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still still still

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Chuuya woke up to the sound of a knocking against his apartment door. Who the hell was trying to visit him on his day off? He groaned, placed his hands flat against his bed, and lifted himself up to a sitting position. Upon further review Chuuya realized that the knocking sound was not coming from outside, but rather, inside his own head.


How much had he drank last night?

Chuuya didn’t remember anything significant happening yesterday to warrant a heavy drinking night. He didn’t remember any sort of party either. Maybe, just for the hell of it? It wasn’t often that Chuuya had a whole week without some form of rehearsal, interview, performance, or general business meetings.

Regardless, Chuuya blindly reached for his phone lying on the bedside table. He flipped his phone over, tried pressing the home button a couple times before. ultimately he realized it was dead.

“Tch,” he scoffed aloud to his empty apartment. “Figures.”

With smooth movements Chuuya plugged his phone in to charge. With less smooth movements Chuuya moved from his bedroom into his kitchen, deciding that he should at least start to diminish this headache with some medicine and water while his phoned charged.

Once in his kitchen, Chuuya moved to the medicine cabinet and rummaged through the various medications until he found the painkillers stuffed in the back. Then he moved over to his cabinets above the sink, subconsciously stood on his tip toes, curled his fingers around the nearest glass cup, and filled it up to the brim with water.

The recommended number of painkillers was one, but Chuuya popped two pills in his mouth, before swallowing the medicine with a gulp of water. He needed this headache to go away. After all, Chuuya had plans to do some composing today. He needed to be in a stable mindset in order to hear the right bassline he was looking for. And that could take a while.

Speaking of time, Chuuya really had no idea what time it was.

He trudged back into his bedroom, placed the half-finished glass on his bedside table with one hand and grabbed his phone with the other. Immediately after reading the ungodly amount of notifications on his phone, Chuuya was so glad he put the cup down. If not, he would’ve shattered glass all across his bedroom floor.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Chuuya mumbled as he unlocked his phone with shaky fingers.

Chuuya clicked on the Twitter app with 999+ notifications. That wasn’t theoretically out of the realm of Chuuya’s status. He was one of the top selling artists in Japan, after all, and was slowing gaining huge recognition in the United States. But Chuuya was also positive that he turned his notifications on to only receive them when someone he mutually followed directed him.

Moving from the bell screen to his profile screen, Chuuya’s heart almost stopped beating. He didn’t even register his legs gave out underneath him until he felt himself flop against the bed, which was once beneath him.

“Fuck, this cannot be happening,” he pleaded.

Prominently displayed on Chuuya’s profile was a string of tweets from last night, all within five minutes of each other.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 7h

it’ss honesntyl unfair hwo FUKSGF hottt osaufd dazsi is.,,, o wana run my hands thur hs hair


Chuuya could hardly breathe. He would never, and he means ever admit to anyone that he thought Dazai Osamu was his type, much less that he found the other man attractive. Fuck was he even allowed to say something as clearly homosexual as that?

No wonder he had 17 missed calls from Mori, his record label’s president, and Kouyou, his manager.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 7h

orr hwo talented hee is?? Like pop msui isn;t my thingg but thatt mamn sngis lik meltheb buttr


Chuuya didn’t even remember listening to Dazai’s music last night. In fact, Chuuya couldn’t remember much of anything from last night. He remembered opening up a bottle of 1989 Petrus just because. But after the first couple glasses, his mind was totally blank.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 7h

God what I wondl do to snig a snojg with daxis


“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chuuya screamed, with each ‘fuck’ escalating in volume. He clenched his hand around his phone and buried his head in his other hand.

He was totally and royally fucked. If Kouyou didn’t kill him, then Mori definitely will. And if, on the off chance, that doesn’t happen, Chuuya will definitely kill himself. How is this his life right now?

And if it couldn’t possibly get worse, Chuuya scrolled down beneath his thread of Tweets and felt his soul literally exit his body. Of course, his luck was shitty enough that the top responder was the man, the myth, the legend himself: Dazai fucking Osamu.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Chuuya sputtered as he read Dazai’s response.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 5h

@taintedsorrow how sweet ゚(。ノω\。)゚i never knew you were such a fan. if only i could say the same for myself. dm me... ԅ(≖‿≖ԅ)


It took all the restraint in the world for Chuuya to not hurl his phone against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. Great. Now he looked like some fucking fan boy who was dying to collaborate with Dazai. As if.

Being the mature adult that he was, Chuuya decided to bury underneath the covers, forcing himself to fall asleep once more. He would deal with this shitstorm later.




Chuuya woke up again to the sound of knocking at his door. He groaned, already anticipating the headache that was forming from the combination of his clusterfuck and lingering hangover.

Chuuya forced himself to sit up in his bed. When he was sitting up properly he noticed that the knocking was not as dull as it usually was. Wait... Was someone actually at his door this time?

With hurried footsteps Chuuya scampered out of his bedroom, into the decently sized living room, and up to the front entrance. Chuuya made his way over to door and pried it open. There was only one person who would dare try and visit him on his day off.

“Ane-san,” Chuuya greeted.

Kouyou nodded, before inviting herself into Chuuya’s apartment, promptly moving over to sit on his couch.

Chuuya gulped. There were very few times when his manager was truly and utterly pissed at him. A lot of his more questionable actions could usually be written off as living his “rockstar” life. But this seemed far more important.

He had to give it to her, even while Chuuya knew Kouyou was mad, she carried herself with the upmost grace and poise. As if she knew she was about to get her way, and that all of these formalities were just to prove that, once again, she was in charge. Sometimes, Chuuya was truly terrified of her.

Chuuya lamely closed the door behind him. “Would you like some tea, Ane-san?” he offered.

“No, thank you, lad,” she responded. “We should only be here for ten minutes tops.”

“Uh, we?” Chuuya asked dumbly, fixated on the pronoun.

“Yes, we,” she repeated, voice clipped. Her eyes were zoned in on the seat in front of her. Chuuya basically leaped over his couch, quickly understanding what she was implying, and sat opposite Kouyou.

“You’ve made quite the mess for yourself.”

Chuuya bowed his head down in shame. He didn’t know what to say. Yeah it was bad, but how bad could it really be? Wasn’t it obvious those were drunk Tweets? They didn’t mean anything.

“I have been receiving calls basically non-stop since I woke up this morning from publishers of magazines and your sponsors wondering if it’s true that you are in fact gay and collaborating with Dazai Osamu.”

Chuuya winced. Fuck.

“Imagine my surprise when I heard that you openly called your number one rival, and I’m quoting here, ‘hot.’ I almost couldn’t believe it until I read the Tweets myself.”

“Ane-san, I-”

Kouyou held up her hand, signaling Chuuya to stop rambling before he could even begin. “There is a silver-lining. One of the people who contacted me was Kunikida-kun, Dazai-kun’s manager, who very much wants to get in touch with us. He said that Dazai-kun has an idea that could benefit the both of you.”

Chuuya’s head snapped upwards so that he was staring Kouyou straight in the eyes. He searched her features trying to discern if she was telling any sort of lie. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anything other than the truth.

"You have approximately seven minutes to make yourself look presentable to meet Mori-san, Fukazawa-san, Kunikida-kun, and Dazai-kun.”

Chuuya practically sprang off of his couch and into his bedroom. He rummaged around through closet, trying to find outfit that didn’t scream ‘I drank so much wine last night, and made a terrible decision, and still kind of have a hangover.’ After a few seconds of frantically searching, Chuuya found a lighter shade black leather jacket, deep red shirt, and black skinny jeans.

He threw the outfit together, foregoing his usual hat since he didn’t want to appear as if he were casting the sun away from his eyes, but nonetheless buckling the choker around his neck. With two minutes to spare, Chuuya stumbled out of his bedroom, hopping as he slid on his shoes.

“Ready,” he announced.

Kouyou looked unimpressed but nodded her approval at his choice of clothes. She then led the two of them down the apartment complex, and steered Chuuya to a discreet black car. The two climbed in and began to drive off to somewhere unknown to Chuuya.

Little did Chuuya know that he had essentially signed a death sentence.




The only thought Chuuya had running through his mind during the car ride was that he was going to damn Twitter to the deepest pit of hell. He didn’t know how he was going to make it happen, but he was going to get the social media platform removed from the Internet forever.

After twenty minutes of tense silence, the car stopped in front of an old café which looked like it had closed years prior. But Chuuya had been in show business for a long time at this point. He knew that inside would be a fully functional café, where it was common for producers and stars to meet in order to escape the eye of the paparazzi.

Kouyou led the way into the building, Chuuya close behind. He was not surprised in the slightest when Kouyou opened the front door and the inside was revealed to be gorgeous.

Chuuya looked around at all of the dark wood and gold accents, immediately feeling the calmest he had been all afternoon. There was a strong scent of coffee lingering around the café, and oh, what Chuuya would do to get his hands on a cup of black coffee. Huh, he hadn’t eaten all day. Add that to the list of ‘reasons why this is the worst day ever.’

Chuuya’s eyes continued to roam around the café until Kouyou stopped moving in front of him. He almost crashed into her, but luckily Kouyou could sense Chuuya’s unusually clumsy manner and took a side step to the left.

Immediately his calm mood turned to once more to anxiety. In front of him sat Dazai Osamu, his legs crossed, and sipping on something in a small tea cup. To his left was Dazai’s manager, Kunikida, and to his right was Dazai’s record label’s president, Fukazawa. On the other side of the table sat across from Fukazawa was Chuuya’s own boss, Mori.

Chuuya and Kouyou quickly took their places across from their respective equals.

“Sorry we’re late,” Chuuya said as he settled into his seat.

“Nonsense,” Kunikida said, “You’re actually two and a half minutes early. This is off to a good start.”

Dazai chuckled into his tea cup and placed the delicate china down on the saucer in front of him. He placed his elbows on the table, hands clasped together, and leaned his chin on top of his hands, eyes boring directly into Chuuya’s soul.

“Hello, Chuuya~” he purred.

Chuuya scoffed. God what an idiot drunk-him was. Looking at Dazai’s face this close up, he couldn’t believe he found this man attractive. All Chuuya could focus on was the tacky line of bandages rolled around Dazai’s neck... and the way his milky skin somehow complimented the stark white bandages...

No Chuuya, he told himself, stop thinking about Dazai.

Dazai smirked, as if reading Chuuya’s thoughts. God, he wanted to punch this smug bastard so bad.

"If we’re ready to begin,” Kunikida said once more, “I believe Dazai has free reign to speak.”

After a few seconds of no objections, Dazai launched into his scheme.

“Ah, thank you, Kunikida-kun,” he sing-songed. “It seems like our favorite Chibi here got himself into quite the predicament. But luckily, I have a master plan to fix this!”

Chuuya felt his blood boil, and Dazai had barely begun speaking. This entitled fucker thought that he really had some control over fixing Chuuya’s life. Fuck. And Chuuya was probably going to have to agree, no matter the circumstances. Damn all of this to fucking hell.

“I propose that Chuuya and I enter a fake relationship. It starts off slow, a couple meetings for three weeks to collaborate on the song Chuuya asked for, we fall for each other, start to date, release the song in a couple months, and then in a year break things off mutually.”

Chuuya’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, no noise daring to leave his mouth. What the fuck?

Finally, Chuuya eloquently said, “I don’t want to date you.”

Dazai huffed. “Yeah, well, I’m not too thrilled at the idea of having a crazy rockstar boyfriend. But you got us into this mess, you need to help us get out of it.”

Had Dazai gone insane? Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu, dating? Had Chuuya not made it clear through the dozens of direct and indirect meetings that he despised Dazai with every fiber in his body.

And what would his fans think? Chuuya’s pretty sure his fans hate Dazai with just as much fervor as Chuuya does. This was bad. Especially considering that Chuuya’s fanbase and Dazai’s fanbase were the two of the biggest Japanese music fanbases in the U.S. Fuck, this was going to end so poorly.

However, if Dazai was as confident as he was, maybe there was a chance something good could come out of this? But that was still a lot of maybes. And as nice as it sounded that Chuuya could gain more popularity, he could also lose everything...

Yet, something still smelled like rotten fish. There was definitely something that Dazai wasn’t telling Chuuya, and it was gnawing at the back of Chuuya’s mind.

He glared at Dazai. “What’s in it for you?”

“Excuse me?”

"I mean, I didn’t get us into this mess, I got myself into the mess,” Chuuya pointed out. “I don’t understand why you’re willing helping me.”

Dazai huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into his seat, clearly pouting. “I have been told,” He said, his eyes darted over to Kunikida, “That I can be quite the womanizer. It’s starting to affect my public image negatively.”

While Chuuya could agree that was true, it still didn’t feel like the full answer.

“And?” Chuuya prompted.

"And I want to win an Oscar.”

Caught off guard, Chuuya barked out a laugh. “You? Act?”

“What? You don’t think I’d be good at it? Or do you think I’m not hot enough for film?” Dazai asked, clearly parroting Chuuya’s earlier words right back at him.

Chuuya gritted his teeth. “I certainly think you’re fake enough to be an actor.”

“Ne, Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed, overly excited, “I didn’t know you thought I was a good actor, on top of being a talented singer!”

Chuuya groaned. He was going to kill him. Chuuya was seriously about to perform his first murder right here, right now, in front of four witnesses, because he could not stand Dazai fucking Osamu.

“I’m sorry,” Chuuya said, backpedaling. “You’ve never acted in any sort of movie, and you think you can win an Oscar right off the bat?”

Dazai tilted his head off to the side, clearly confused by Chuuya’s own confusion. “Yes?” He said, even though it sounded more like a question.

Leave it to geniuses to think that they can do anything and everything with ease.

“Okay, fine, let’s theoretically say you get nominated for an Oscar,” Chuuya said, exasperated. “How is dating me benefiting you?”

“Simple,” Dazai replied. “In all my analyses, it seems that the actor who wins the Oscar tends to have a strong and positive presence, both within the public and with the Academy, for three months before the awards. Us dating would make me look like I have found a steady relationship, and us collaborating, and you releasing a song about me, would only perpetuate the false image that you helped make me a better person.”

Chuuya gaped at Dazai. “You never said anything about me having to write a song for you,” he exclaimed.

“Oh, did I forget that?” Dazai asked, mock innocence laced within his voice. “It’s only fair. As you said yourself, you got us into this mess to begin with. You’re going to have to do some damage control. Plus, by my calculations, that should boost my ratings by forty percent.”

Chuuya opened his mouth, most likely to scream profanities at Dazai, but someone beat him to the punchline.

Mori cleared his throat. “I, for one, think it is an excellent idea.”

Kouyou nodded her agreement. “It would help both of our numbers, and even more importantly, would help expand the Japanese music and film industry here in the U.S.”

“I’m not keen on the idea of lying to the public,” Kunikida said before clearing his throat. “However, the benefits seem to outweigh the harms.”

“I also agree,” Fukazawa simply said.

Everyone’s eyes were on Chuuya. Dazai was practically sparkling at Chuuya. “Well, what do you say, partner?” He asked, sickeningly sweet, and so obviously to rile Chuuya up.

Chuuya sighed. There was no getting out of this. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

Dazai clapped his hands together, smile wide on his face. “It’s decided then! We can work out the nitty gritty details later, but Chuuya and I are officially in a relationship!”

God fucking dammit.

Chuuya better learn how to take Twitter down, and preferably soon.

Chapter Text

Chuuya left the impromptu business meeting with Dazai’s phone number. He didn’t quite know what to do with said number. He supposed that he should text Dazai. But, ugh, he really didn’t want to.

It was a couple hours later and Chuuya was back lounging in his apartment. He finally got something to eat, but his initial plans to compose music were completely and utterly shot. Instead it was just past five, and Chuuya was stuffing his face full of Chinese takeout to compensate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

Off to the side sat Chuuya’s phone, mocking him. He turned off almost all Twitter notifications, not wanting to be reminded of last night. But, even then, his phone was glaring at him. Telling him to text Dazai.

 Chuuya groaned and picked up his phone. His fingers moved over the ‘new message’ icon before he decidedly muttered, “fuck it,” and sent Dazai a text.


[me]: Hey it’s Chuuya


Not even a minute later Chuuya received a response. If Chuuya were texting someone he actually enjoyed, he would like to fantasize that, just maybe, Dazai was constantly checking his phone, waiting and hoping that Chuuya would text. But this was Dazai, and no such fantasies were allowed.


[Dazai]: chuuya (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ 


[me]: What the hell? Were you waiting for me or smthn


[Dazai]: yes!!! i miss my new boyfriend (づ ̄³ ̄)づ


Chuuya felt his face heat up after reading the new title. He knew it was all pretend, just to rile him up. He was even more ashamed to admit that it was already working.


[me]: Idiot don’t say things like that


[Dazai]: (╥_╥)


[me]: And what’s with the damn emojis? Knock it off


[Dazai]: chuuuuuuyaaaa

[Dazai]: how can u not like emojis

[Dazai]: they’re funny

[Dazai]: ♪ ♬ヾ(´︶`♡)ノ♬♪


[me]: Pls stop


[Dazai]: boooo

[Dazai]: fine but only bc i plan on being the best boyfriend ever~

[Dazai]: anyway chuuya when are you free?


[me]: I’m free all week why


[Dazai]: to meet about the song!!

[Dazai]: or did you already forget


[me]: Oh yeah

[me]: Why don’t you come over Thursday for lunch?


[Dazai]: it’s a date ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)


[me]: I told you to stop with the damn emojis!!

[me]: And we’re not “dating” yet


[Dazai]: fufufu


Chuuya flopped back into the pillows on his couch. He should not already be half-dreading, half-looking forward to Thursday. That was only two days away so maybe in that time he could start to come up with some ideas for the song they were going to collaborate on.

Halfway through his rush of inspiration, Chuuya’s phone lit up with another Twitter notification: @nolongerhuman has tagged you in a picture.

This day just kept getting stranger and stranger. Chuuya slid open the notification and was met with a screenshot of a section from his most recent text conversation with Dazai.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 29s

〜( ̄▽ ̄〜) it’s happening (〜 ̄▽ ̄)〜



Chuuya was going to kill him. Luckily it was the harmless portion, confirming that they were to meet on Thursday to start working together. But still. Not even a day after their meeting and Dazai was already hinting at what’s to come.

This was going to be a long year.

The celebrity portion of his brain quickly retweeted the picture, letting his fanbase know what the two singers were planning on creating. Right before Chuuya closed the app, his attention was drawn to what what Dazai had set his contact name to.




[Dazai]: chuuya!!

[Dazai]: yes

[Dazai]: ur quite slow

[Dazai]: hence the nickname


[me]: Can’t you just be normal

[me]: You’re just Dazai in my phone


[Dazai]: no first name ??

[Dazai]: chuuya as ur boyfriend i demand that u give me a cute nickname


[me]: You think slug is CUTE???


[Dazai]: yes

[Dazai]: it’s endearing


Chuuya worried his bottom lip between his teeth. There was no way that this was real life and that this was really happening to him. Thinking back to the multiples times he had seen Dazai in person, there was only one reoccurring image that he decided would both satisfy and piss Dazai off.

Quickly, Chuuya renamed Dazai’s contact, sent a screenshot, and waited for Dazai’s response.


[Mackerel]: you named me after a smelly fish


[me]: Yeah how does it feel to be named after something completely stupid


[Mackerel]: it feels amazing

[Mackerel]: i knew deep down in chuuya’s heart that he loved me ( /)w(\✿)

[Mackerel]: or maybe not so deep down since chuuya is so tiny~~


Chuuya groaned.

This really was going to be a long year.




stream the setting sun on itunes @daaazai – 30m

wait is this real??? wtf!!!


chuuya could step on me @chuuchuu – 31m

what in the world?? there is no way chuuya-sama would collab with d*zai


chuuya is @tinybutmighty – 32m

first we get chuuya as a confirmed gay and now we get a new song? we stan a legend


sarah loves dazai @bandagedheart – 33m

hh i want to listen to the new song but i don’t want to hear chu*ya’s voice. he can’t hold a freaking note.


dachuu @nkhr – 34m

did I just see DATE and CHUUYA in the same dazai tweet? it’s really over for us bitches



Thursday could not have come soon enough. Chuuya enjoyed his time off, away from the pressures of the music industry. If only for a little bit, Chuuya could pretend that he wasn’t some “living legend” but rather just a normal person. A normal person who ordered way too much take out and didn’t dare leave their apartment.

However, music was Chuuya’s passion in life. He reveled in being able to convey his feelings in a way that words couldn’t necessarily achieve on their own.

All in all, Chuuya was glad to start songwriting again. These past few months had been dedicated to his third world tour and in between travelling and playing new venues, there wasn’t a ton of time for experimentation.

Which is why Chuuya was so glad that starting to develop a few rough ideas for songs took up the majority of his free time. Well, that, and texting Dazai.

Over the past few days he and Dazai had texted more than Chuuya would like to admit. At first it was just to confirm the time and place on Thursday, and if Dazai would be okay with just ordering pizza so they could keep their public presence low. But then Dazai would ask Chuuya stupid questions like what his favorite color is, and if he preferred fire or water, or if there were any books he is currently reading.

It was annoying, time consuming, and downright aggravating because Dazai never fucking shut up. But if Chuuya were being honest with himself, which he definitely would not allow himself to do, it was a nice feeling to consistently be texting someone.

Chuuya kept glancing at the time on his phone. Dazai was late. Because of fucking course, he was. It wasn’t that Chuuya was necessarily anxious about seeing Dazai, Chuuya wasn’t particularly anxious about anything really. It was more that every time he and Dazai interacted they always seemed to get off on the wrong foot.

Either Dazai would say something demeaning and Chuuya would blow up at him, or Dazai would belittle Chuuya and Chuuya would blow up at him, or Dazai would stand there being his smug self and Chuuya would blow up at him. He really didn’t want to get mad at Dazai today. He just wanted to finish what they had to do and send Dazai off on his merry way.

Although in order for that to happen Dazai needed to show up in the first place.

Fifteen minutes after their scheduled lunch meeting, Chuuya heard a knock at the door. Chuuya moved from his living room to his front entrance and opened the door to reveal a well-groomed Dazai.

Dazai had foregone the typical trench coat he wore, and instead was dressed in a fitted black button up long sleeve shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, which Chuuya would have been a complete sucker for had it been anyone else but Dazai standing in front of him. The buttons lining the middle of the shirt were copper instead of a typical silver, which actually complimented the brown of Dazai’s eyes quite nice. The only button that was undone was the top button.

The shirt was tucked into a pair of well fitted dark blue jeans, a black belt keeping Dazai’s pants pulled up high. All in all, Chuuya was thoroughly impressed with how Dazai looked. But not enough to forget how late Dazai was.

Which he decided to point out when he said, “You’re late.”

Dazai’s eyes gave Chuuya a once over and he smirked. He leaned against the door frame, taking in Chuuya’s half angry appearance. “And you look good,” he teased. “You do know this isn’t a real date, right?”

Chuuya felt his cheeks flare up. Of course, he knew that. Contrary to Dazai’s belief, Chuuya really did not want to date him. However, Chuuya did want to look presentable. This was still technically a business meeting.

Chuuya was also wearing a black button up shirt, but his top was short sleeves and the black only partially visible because there was a pink and red floral pattern decked across the fabric. The first three buttons were also undone on Chuuya’s shirt, revealing a decent amount of his pale skin. Additionally, he wore a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and his usual choker.

He would never consider this a “date” outfit, but he supposed it was on the nicer side.

“Yes, I know that. Just come in before you waste anymore of my time,” Chuuya said, before he stepped off to the side to let Dazai into his apartment.

Dazai crossed the threshold and Chuuya quickly shut the door behind him. As Dazai took in the first few opens rooms of Chuuya’s apartment he let out a low whistle.

"This is nice, Chuuya,” he said.

“Oh, thank you,” Chuuya said, proud. He was the one who did the majority of the interior design.

“A bit flamboyant for my tastes, but eh.”


Dazai laughed and moved over to sit on the couch in Chuuya’s living room before Chuuya could cause any bodily harm. Chuuya grumbled and made his way over to Dazai.

“Oh, before we begin,” Dazai said, pulling out his phone. “Come here, I need to take a selfie.”

Chuuya glared at Dazai. “Why,” he deadpanned. He seriously wasn’t in the mood to listen to someone who couldn’t show up on time and then had the audacity to ask to do something which would waste even more of his time.

“For fanservice,” Dazai exclaimed. “Seriously, do you know nothing about how to keep your fans in the loop?”

Chuuya shrugged. “That’s not really my job. I just write and sing, and hope that people like what I do. I do Tweet when something cool happens, I guess.”

“My, my, my, Chuuya,” Dazai tsked. “I have so much to teach you.”

Chuuya opened his mouth to complain but wasn’t able to form a single word before Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s wrist and pulled the other man forward. The side of Chuuya’s head landed with a small thud against Dazai’s chest. He sputtered, trying to get in a less scandalous position, but by that point Dazai had already snapped a couple pictures.

More composed, Chuuya was now sitting at Dazai’s side with his usual smirk directed at the camera. Dazai slung his arm around Chuuya’s shoulders and pulled their faces closer, winking at the camera. It only took a couple seconds for Dazai to hum in approval and drop his hold on Chuuya.

A few more seconds later, Dazai sent out a Tweet, the notification quickly popping up on Chuuya’s phone.

"There,” Dazai announced. “Now retweet that, and we can get started.”

Even though Chuuya just complained about this being fucking stupid, he slid the notification open. He swore it was just to appease Dazai, and not know which picture Dazai ended up selecting. Thankfully, it was one of the ones Chuuya actually posed for.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 31s

we hope you stay tuned for more... (◡‿◡✿)



Huh. Chuuya retweeted the photo and then pocketed his phone.

“So, lunch?” Chuuya asked.



It took Dazai and Chuuya ten minutes to decide on what to eat. Chuuya thought prior to meeting that they agreed on pizza, but apparently Dazai was a whiny baby who wasn’t in the mood for pizza.

Turns out he wasn’t in the mood for anything really. So, after ten minutes of Chuuya suggesting different types of delivery food, they arrived back on the idea of pizza, which this time Dazai happily agreed to.

Chuuya was going to kill him.

While waiting, Chuuya thought now was as good as any time to talk about the schematics of their relationship. There wasn’t enough time to talk about the song, much less start brainstorming, and he definitely didn’t want to sit in awkward silence, so this seemed like the obvious route.

“I have some conditions.”


“About us."

“Oh, yes, obviously.” Dazai waved his hand to signal Chuuya to keep speaking.

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

Dazai raised his eyebrows. Surprise seemed to flicker across Dazai’s face, but for as quickly as it appeared, it also disappeared twice as fast. Chuuya isn’t even sure if what he saw happened.

Dazai coughed awkwardly. “Right, well, we’re not actually dating so that’s a given. We’ll just fake it,” he said. “Although we are going to have to do some minor things in public.”

Chuuya groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

"Anything else?”

“Hm,” Chuuya pondered for a few seconds. “I want you to pay for all of our dates, since this was your fucking idea. And tell me when you’re going to do something gross, like hold my hand.”

“Chuuya is such a needy and high demand boyfriend,” Dazai whined.

“Fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me?” Dazai questioned, his head tilted innocently.

Chuuya let out a huff of frustration before grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking Dazai’s chest with it.

“Domestic abuse,” Dazai screamed, trying, and failing, to thwart off the pillow attack, “This is clear domestic abuse!”



"Wait, wait, wait,” Dazai said, mid-bite, a thin string of cheese hanging loose against his lips.

Chuuya scrunched up his nose in disgust at the display. Somehow, against Chuuya’s better judgement, Dazai had convinced him that it would be more relaxing if they ate their pizza over Chuuya’s couch. And while Dazai was right, for the first time ever Chuuya went at least five minutes without screaming at Dazai, it was also incredibly nerve wrecking.


“You seriously drank three glasses of wine in between songs, at a concert people paid to see might I add, and then fell asleep on a couch backstage?”



Chuuya shrugged. “My guitarist and bassist were doing a riff-off of sorts, so I went backstage to grab a towel, saw the wine, and, well, I guess I drank too much.”

Dazai very visibly held back a laugh.

“It’s not funny,” Chuuya exclaimed.

“It’s a little funny,” Dazai replied. “You’re a lightweight!”

"Shut up!”

Well there goes his streak for longest amount of time talking to Dazai without yelling at him. Seven minutes is something to be quite proud of.

Dazai couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore, doubling over and letting out a true genuine laugh. Chuuya just grumbled in response, shoving half a slice of pizza in his mouth.



After lunch, Chuuya gave Dazai a proper tour of his apartment. Although apartment wasn’t quite the right word. Chuuya’s home was more like a penthouse. He lived on the top floor of his high-end complex, and the entire floor was his.

On one side of the penthouse lay Chuuya’s bedroom, bathroom, recreation room, kitchen, living room, and balcony. On the other side lay another bathroom and Chuuya’s personal music room. Since it was his profession, and Chuuya thoroughly enjoyed experimenting with different sounds and instruments, he wanted to be sure that he had access to everything that he needed.

Chuuya opened the door leading into the other half of the penthouse. Inside was a completely soundproof room, foam lining covering the walls and ceiling. In the center of the room sat a black grand piano. He remembered how much of a pain it was to get that installed, but it was entirely worth it the first time Chuuya’s fingers slid over the smooth keys.

Off to the right side sat a variety of different guitars, both acoustic and electric, which obviously varied in age. There was also a bass stuffed in the corner of the room. And on the left side of the room sat a small drum kit, only composed of a few drums and no cymbals.

Right next to the door, a leather couch and coffee table were situated.

“If you wanna grab a seat, I’m just gonna grab something real quick,” Chuuya said as he moved over to collect some sheet music he accidentally left lying about.

Dazai’s eyes were still roaming around the makeshift studio, but he plopped down nonetheless.

“Ne, Chuuya, do you really know how to play all of these instruments?”

“Yes, of course. Who do you think plays the instruments in my songs?”

“I assumed your band.”

“I mean, they help play the live stuff, since I obviously can’t do it all. But as far as composing and recording albums, that’s all me.”

Dazai hummed his approval.

“So, I had a couple ideas if you wanted to look over what I’ve got so far,” Chuuya said making his way over to Dazai. He sat down next to Dazai and then held out the different types of music.

“No need,” Dazai said, not even bothering to spare a second glance at the messy sheets. “I can already tell I’m going to hate everything you’ve composed.”

“Excuse me?” Chuuya accused, already feeling the need to defend his pride.

“You’re a rock singer, I’m a pop singer,” Dazai pointed out. “My voice isn’t going to suit your style. And knowing your one-dimensional mind I am almost positive everything that you wrote would suit you and not me.”

“So, you’re not even going to look at it?” Chuuya raged.


Chuuya angrily tossed the papers on the ground, clearly pissed. He huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, completely closing himself off from Dazai. No one dares openly insult his life work without even giving it a chance.

“Okay, asshole,” he snarled. “What do you have in mind, then?”

Dazai stroked his chin, lost in thought. Chuuya didn’t know if Dazai was completely oblivious to the murderous aura he was emitting, or if Dazai was choosing to ignore it. Regardless, for Dazai’s own sake, he better come up with something ingenious or else Chuuya was definitely going to strangle him.

“Well, it has to be a love song,” he finally said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Preferably sad. Maybe something like ‘I still love you, don’t you say goodbye?’”

“What if I hate that idea?”

“Seems rather unlikely,” Dazai purred, bringing his face closer to Chuuya’s. “What seems more likely, however, is that you don’t want to admit it sounds like a perfect fit.”

Chuuya scoffed, uncrossed his arms, and shoved Dazai out of his personal space. Not even bothering to hold back his true strength. Dazai’s back hit the couch cushions with a satisfying smack. For the first time that afternoon Chuuya felt calmer. More in control.

“Prove it,” he said, cocky.

“Alright,” Dazai replied, moving so he was sitting up straight once more. “First, you’re quite an emotional singer. The only songs of yours I can stand are the ones which start off slow and have an emotional key change halfway through, so we’ll follow that trend.

Second, if we focus more on the pop side, that will be able to account for my expertise of hiding a deeper meaning. The song will be catchy enough that, at first glance, it doesn’t feel sad. But once you listen to the lyrics more you realize that even a happy relationship can experience sadness.”

Chuuya was going to scream. Of course, that sense of control he felt was all manufactured in order for him to fall right into Dazai’s trap, allowing the bastard to explain his nearly flawless rational.

He couldn’t believe he was actually going to agree with this fucker. Especially after he insulted his music. Fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck. Who was Dazai to insinuate that Chuuya wasn’t talented, dammit. Chuuya felt his shoulders sag in defeat.

“You planned this didn’t you?” He asked, still very clearly mad at the change of events, “You had this idea knowing that I would give in, didn’t you?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai gasped, “I would never do such a thing.”

Chuuya said nothing in response. Instead he bent forward to his long-forgotten song lyrics and flipped them over to the blank side. With a pen in hand Chuuya began to brainstorm, completely blocking out Dazai’s insistent whining.




double suicide @osxmu – 3h

umm are we going to ignore that chuuya and dazai are lowkey matching????


chuuya-sama @blacksheepchuuya – 3h

is it wrong that i already ship dazai and chuuya?


o granters of dark disgrace @donotwakeme – 3h





no longer human @d-osamu – 3h

this song is already going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me ,,, we stan ,,,


DOUBLE BLACK @doubleblack – 3h

petition for the ship name of dazai and chuuya to be ‘double black’ because they’re both wearing black in the first pic of them together EVER


       osamu dazai ()@nolongerhuman – 6m

       @doubleblack i quite like that!! \(^ω^\) it’s cool like me and tacky like chuuya~

Chapter Text

Chuuya’s week off from work ended much too quickly for his liking. Come Monday morning he was sat in a business meeting with Mori discussing the numbers from his latest tour. They were good. Like really good. Like so good that Mori offered Chuuya an opportunity for a fourth album as soon as he wanted.

At least there was a silver-lining to all this bullshit.

As Chuuya was making his way out of The Port’s studio office, he was thinking about what kind of sound he wanted. Maybe a jazzier approach? He had been wanting to experiment with saxophones and trumpets for a while now, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Perhaps he could even get his band, The Black Lizard, involved. Ever since Dazai questioned if they helped him record albums or not, Chuuya had been thinking of more ways to get them involved. It would be nice if they could help him compose music for instruments he didn’t know how to play.

Halfway through his thoughts, Chuuya felt a buzz in his front pocket. Chuuya reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone. One new message from Mackerel.

Ugh. Speaking of Dazai and absolute bullshit, of course the text was from him.

Chuuya’s gloved fingers slid open the notification.


[Mackerel]: chuuya!!!!

[Mackerel]: i heard you got a new record deal


[Me]: How did you hear that so fast? It literally just happened


[Mackerel]: oh chuuya

[Mackerel]: i ofc have my ways


Chuuya groaned aloud. Dazai was slowly becoming a constant presence in his life, and it was seriously becoming an issue. Now every morning when he woke up there was a greeting text waiting from Dazai. It felt like every other day Dazai would ask if he could come over, so they could work on the song. Already since their first meeting on Thursday, they had met twice more.

And the worst part was that they hardly got any work done. For some fucking reason Dazai would always text to confirm a time, completely disregard whatever he said and show up roughly twenty minutes late, and then insult every single idea Chuuya presented.

It took them nearly ten hours to pick the lines for the chorus. And even that was subject to change since they had nothing else decided. Chuuya had written actual full-length songs in less time.

The worst part was that Dazai hardly ever did anything. He had taken a particular liking to the leather couch in Chuuya’s makeshift studio. More often than not, Dazai would take up the entire length of the couch, put his hands behind his head, close his eyes, and listen to Chuuya.

Chuuya could count on one hand the number of times that Dazai presented anything that was worthy of contribution. And when he did contribute, it was actually very helpful. Chuuya couldn’t fathom why Dazai didn’t help so they could get this bullshit done faster.

This was supposed to be the easy part too. They hadn’t even begun to talk about the sound of their song, much less composing music for each instrumental.

Another buzz.


[Mackerel]: are u free now?


[Me]: I have a meeting with Kouyou in 15 why


[Mackerel]: (◡﹏◡✿)

[Mackerel]: when will u be free i’m bored~


[Me]: Idk Dazai I’m booked solid today

[Me]: You know if you’re so bored you could work on our song

[Me]: I guess I’m free tomorrow night


[Mackerel]: ✧・゚:*✧・゚:* \(◕△◕✿)/ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

[Mackerel]: i’m going to ignore that middle txt

[Mackerel]: bc chuuya is so much better at coming up with bad ideas idk why u would want me to do that


[Me]: I swear you were put on this world to make my life a living hell


[Mackerel]: love u too mon petite rockstar~


Chuuya pocketed his phone and headed to the car which was awaiting him outside The Port’s offices. He really hoped Dazai actually did some work between now and tomorrow.



Unsurprisingly, Dazai showed up empty handed.

Well, that’s not entirely true. To make up for being twenty-five minutes late he at least had the common sense to grab some dinner on the way. Dazai held up two bags of takeout burgers with a sheepish grin.

Good thing too, because Chuuya was so close to just slamming the door in Dazai’s face and finishing the song himself.

Over dinner, Dazai talked about some potential acting roles which he thought may be worthy of an Oscar.

“Were you actually serious about that?” Chuuya asked.

“About the Oscar?”

"Yes, but more like, acting in general.”

“Oh,” Dazai said, “Yes, absolutely. I don’t lie when it comes to business deals.”

“It seems kind of hard, doesn’t it?” Chuuya asked, “Balancing both music and a new acting career.”

Dazai shrugged. “Not really. Tons of musicians do it nowadays.”

“Yeah, I suppose, but none of them are aiming as high as you are,” Chuuya refuted.

“Maybe they’re just not as good as me,” Dazai replied.

“Maybe it’s not possible.”

“Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya,” Dazai tsked. “If there’s one thing you must learn is that nothing is impossible. I promise you, I am going to win the Oscar and dedicate it to you.”

Chuuya scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”



It took nearly two and a half fucking weeks for Dazai and Chuuya to finish the lyrics for their song. Chuuya blamed Dazai entirely. For working with someone who was a supposed genius, Dazai wanted to do everything but work on the song.

Seriously. It was insane.

There were strange benefits to working with a genius, however. Once Dazai had a rush of inspiration, his mind was zoned in until he was completely satisfied.

It happened out of the blue. One minute, Chuuya was sitting at the piano, humming a different idea since Dazai rejected his previous one. And then the next minute, Dazai’s eyes blew open wide, and he was sitting beside Chuuya on the bench.

“Hum that again,” Dazai instructed.

“Why?” Chuuya asked, simply to be confrontational.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, turning so they were staring each other head-on. His eyes were dark and so unlike anything Chuuya had ever seen before. “Hum that again.”

This time Chuuya did as he was told.

It took a while for Dazai to find the right notes on the piano for the basic melody he was looking for, but once he found it, everything came into place.

The lyrics practically flowed out. Dazai and Chuuya were feeding and building off one another. It was almost scary how easily they could read each other. Always pushing and digging for the best ideas, not settling for second-rate. It’s like they knew what the other was fully capable of.

“What if we did something with the changing of seasons?” Chuuya asked, gnawing on the pen, lost in thought.

“Think deeper, Chuuya, more specific,” Dazai replied.



“What if we sang about the cherry blossoms flying off a tree, and what once felt warm feels cold? We could talk about dead leaves in the next verse too.”

“Now you’re on to something,” Dazai said, snatching the pen out of Chuuya’s mouth.

Chuuya moaned, but only for a second until he realized Dazai was not listening to him. Dazai quickly scribbled something down on the paper in front of him. Once satisfied, Dazai hummed and thrust the paper into Chuuya’s hands.

“Sing this,” he said.

Chuuya read over the lyrics and felt a small smile bloom. “This is perfect.”

It only took a few more hours after that to fully come up with the story being told within the song. True to Dazai’s word, it was a lot sadder than Chuuya initially anticipated. And written in all caps was the location where they agreed upon a key change to help Chuuya’s voice shine.

"The two of us climbed a hill of cherry blossoms,” Chuuya sang.

“We kissed as we watched fireworks by the sea,” Dazai sang, picking up right where Chuuya left off.

"Never again can we return to that season,” they sang together, voices complementing each other beautifully.

Chuuya felt a huge smile stretch across his face. When he looked over at Dazai, he saw the other man with just as proud of an expression. Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh. For all their bickering over the past couple of weeks, this was something to be damn proud of.

“What?” Dazai asked, confused by Chuuya’s sudden burst of laughter.

“Nothing,” Chuuya said, giddy off the post-song writing high.

Dazai scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to decipher Chuuya. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Chuuya laughed again and punched Dazai lightly in the forearm. He liked when Dazai looked caught off guard. It made him look softer, more human.

“It’s nothing, Dazai,” Chuuya said, quieter this time.

Half an hour later, at just past two in the morning, they called it a night. Chuuya began to tidy up his studio while Dazai organized the papers on top of the piano. There were so many half-crumpled sheets of music strewn about everywhere. A few empty pens had rolled under the piano, but Chuuya did not have the patience to crawl on his hands and knees to fish them out right now. He could only handle the most basic of cleaning.

“Chuuya?” Dazai asked.


“I can stay the night, right?”

Chuuya nearly dropped the music stand he was dragging over to the corner. Oh. He didn’t quite process that it was nearing two thirty in the morning.

“Sure,” Chuuya finally replied. “But you’re going to sleep on the couch. I don’t want you anywhere near my silk sheets.”

“Chuuya is so rude,” Dazai pouted, but didn’t press the matter any further.

Chuuya helped Dazai set up the couch as a makeshift bed, complete with a thick comforter and one of Chuuya’s pillows. Dazai slid under the covers and nuzzled his head to one side, blinking up wide at Chuuya, already on the verge of unconsciousness.

“You all good, then?” Chuuya asked, ready to head to his bedroom.

Dazai shook his head no. “I’m not sure if I can sleep, since everything smells so much like Chuuya.”

Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so close to being away from Dazai for the night. All he had to do was finish this conversation without blowing up at the man sleeping on his couch.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Chuuya finally said. He turned around in the opposite direction.

Before he made one full step in the direction of his bedroom, Chuuya felt something tug at his arm. He whipped his head around and saw that Dazai’s fingers were curled around his wrist.

“Thank you,” Dazai said, before his grip faltered and he fell asleep.

Chuuya would never admit that he laid in his bed that night with a small smile on his face before falling asleep.



Unfortunately, Dazai’s rush of inspiration seemed to only be a one-time thing. Once they woke up in the morning and agreed on some basic edits to the lyrics, Dazai became completely unmotivated.

This bled into the next meeting, and the next meeting.

The lyrics were, for the most part, done. But now they had the instrumental pieces worry about. And since Dazai came up with the basic melody, he then deemed himself worthy to not contribute anything other than telling Chuuya he was wrong. Every. Single. Time.

The only thing it seemed that Dazai did want to talk about was his new-found acting career. Which pissed Chuuya off to no end, because they were so close to finishing the song. Why didn’t Dazai just want to get it over with, dammit!

“Chuuya, I need your opinion on something,” Dazai said, while scrolling through his phone and not paying attention to what Chuuya was working on.

“Is it about the song?” Chuuya prompted.

Dazai waved his hand and locked his phone, setting it aside. “Don’t be silly~”

Chuuya could feel a vein about to burst. “What is it about, then?”

“My acting, of course!”

Chuuya groaned. Not this again.

“What could you possibly want my opinion on?”

“I’m in the final round of auditions for two roles that I’m debating between. One of them is for a more artistic movie, they want me to sing, and go through a journey about the corrupt music industry. The second one is a pure drama, about a mafia boss who struggles with the concept of what is moral and just. Which do you think I should do?”

Chuuya thought about it for a minute.  

“Well, I suppose,” he started, “That the first role would be easier, since you know how to sing and dance. You could be confident in what you’re doing.”

“Hm,” Dazai said, stroking his chin deep in thought. Finally, he snapped his fingers together, clear epiphany just realized.

"Thank you, Chuuya, I will go with the second one!”

“Hah,” Chuuya stuttered. “Why ask for my opinion then, asshole?!”

"In order to get the Oscar, I’m going to have to do the unexpected. I wanted to see if you thought the first role would be too predictable, and it indeed is.”

Chuuya huffed and crossed his arms. “I didn’t even know you were legitimately in consideration for two big roles.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve been going to auditions for a little over a month now.”

"And you show up on time for those?!”

“Yes, of course, Chibi. Those are business deals.”

"These are business meetings too!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course there aren’t. These are just two friends, hanging out, and writing music when they both feel like it.”

“You-” Chuuya cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me about the auditions? I could’ve helped you.”

Dazai tilted his head to the side, pure confusion and innocence written on his features. “You never asked.”



Three weeks after Dazai brought up the idea that he and Chuuya were to fake date, he made that scary proposition a reality. A small part of Chuuya had hoped that part of the deal wasn’t necessary, but the more rational part of his brain knew it was going to happen sometime.

He definitely didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Chuuya was in the middle of playing the latest chord he had written for the piano when Dazai declared out of the blue:

“I think we should announce that we’re dating today.”

Chuuya’s fingers slipped off the keys his hands were positioned at, and ended up producing a sharp, very out of tune, note.

“I really hope that wasn’t part of your composition,” Dazai sing-songed.

“Of course, it wasn’t a part of my composition, you ass,” Chuuya screamed.

Dazai laughed breathily.

“What made you think of this in the first place?” Chuuya asked, while he turned around on the piano bench, now facing Dazai.

“Nothing in particular, just that it feels like the right time. It’s been long enough that it’s believable, but also short enough where it would keep fans wanting more. Plus, I have a feeling that I’m going to get the mafia role I want next week, and I want our first date to be a celebratory dinner.”

We talked about you accepting that role two days ago?” Chuuya asked, at a loss for words.

"Yes, yes, and my last audition was yesterday. It went perfect, as expected,” Dazai explained.

Well, guess there was no getting out of this now. Although it didn’t happen often, once Dazai truly set his mind to something, he would do anything to make sure it went his way. Even if that mean using whatever backwards-ass method he had in order to trick Chuuya into agreeing.

Chuuya sighed. “Alright, what did you have in mind?”

Dazai’s eyes practically sparkled up at Chuuya. He moved from his current position, so he was sitting up straight. Dazai beckoned Chuuya forward, which Chuuya begrudgingly obeyed.

Chuuya sat down next to Dazai, and without even a second passing, Dazai instantly grabbed Chuuya’s left hand and interlaced their fingers together. On instinct, Chuuya tried tugging his hand away, but Dazai’s grip was bone-crushingly strong.

"Relax, Chibi,” he said. “This will only take a second.”

Chuuya grumbled to himself, but let his hand lay lax within Dazai’s. Dazai moved their conjoined hands so they were resting on his lap, and then he quickly took out his phone. Dazai snapped a few pictures of their hands from different angles.

While Dazai was taking pictures, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. God, was his hand sweating? He seriously hoped not. Had he known that Dazai was going to pull this stunt he would’ve grabbed some gloves. He hardly ever went out in public without his gloves in the first place. Shit, shit, shit, he really hoped this ended soon.

As if on cue, Dazai released his hand from Chuuya’s, and began scrolling through the dozens of pictures he just took. Once he landed on one which he was thoroughly satisfied with, he hummed.

“Okay,” he exclaimed. “Phase one complete. Now take out your phone.”

Once again, Chuuya complied.

“How do you feel about me kissing your cheek?” Dazai asked.

“Pretty fucking terrible, why?”

Dazai pouted. “Chuuya,” he whined, “You were supposed to say that sounds like an excellent idea!”

“But it doesn’t.”

Dazai whined once more.

“Oh my god,” Chuuya exclaimed, exasperated, “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. Just please shut the fuck up.”

Dazai flashed Chuuya an award-winning smile. Fucker.

Chuuya slid open the camera app, placed in on the front-facing view, and then pointed it towards their faces. Dazai scooted closer to Chuuya so their bodies were brushing against one another. He then leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against Chuuya’s cheek, his eyes fluttering closed. Chuuya was facing forward while Dazai was facing sideways.

Chuuya framed the camera so that area from their cheekbones to their collarbones was showing. He snapped a couple different pictures, each one with a different tilt of his chin. The last picture he took, Chuuya even flashed a small, secretive smile at the camera.

Once he was completely satisfied, already knowing instantly which picture he was going to select, Chuuya flicked Dazai in the forehead.

“We’re good,” he said.

Dazai moved away from Chuuya, but only slightly. They were still leaning against one another, but at least Dazai’s lips were off of Chuuya.

“Phase two complete,” Dazai announced. “Now we just have to post these pictures at the same time.”

Chuuya nodded and the two musicians wordlessly opened Twitter. It took a little bit for Chuuya to decide on a caption, but once he did, he knew it would crush every single fan theory out there.

That kind of power was intoxicatingly fun.

“Ready?” Dazai asked.

“Ready,” Chuuya confirmed.

They pressed post at the same time. Not even a second later Chuuya got the notification that Dazai had tagged him in a picture. He tapped on the notification and read Dazai’s post, smiling softly to himself.

He had to hand it to Dazai. The low lighting in the studio room made each picture look like they were taken in a far more intimate setting than reality. Everyone was going to collectively lose their shit.




osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 29s

when his hands are so small they fit in yours perfectly>>>>



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 19s

Hey @nolongerhuman I guess I don’t hate you that much...




THIS IS NOT A DRILL @dazaischeekbones – 5s



hatrack@chuuyashats – 5s

heqlruio;akfnjalbheriuop #doubleblack


fancy hat @nxkxhxrx – 5s

i’m gonna need at least 3 years to process that chuuya isn’t wearing his gloves around dazai that is real love #doubleblack


dazai’s bitch @dazaismfhands – 5s

chuuya really played us hard #doubleblack


mackerel @dazaiii – 5s

dazai looks soooooo mf happy I will literally come after anyone who is hating on these two #doubleblack


i met dazai!!! @dazaishappiness – 5s

I met dazai-san irl yesterday and he seemed so much happier than he has been in months I guess now we know why #doubleblack


double black is REAL @justchuuya – 5s

,asfhajkl i wish nothing but the best for chuuya and osamu they look so good together #doubleblack


dazai and chuuya sittin in a tree @notdazai – 5s

oh .., man......... I just realized this collab song is probs a love song which parallels how they ACTUALLY fell in love I’m going to kms #doubleblack


Needless to say, the double black tag went trending worldwide for a little over twenty-four hours.



A few days later, Chuuya’s heart almost stopped.

It wasn’t like they did anything during these meetings anymore. The last meeting was a true testament to that. All Dazai did was read off funny reaction Tweets while Chuuya tried to compose. That lasted all of five minutes before Chuuya joined in on searching through Tweets as well.

This time, Dazai didn’t even bother asking to meet to work. Instead he suggested dinner and an at home movie, so they could get to know each other on a more intimate level. Chuuya knew it was bullshit, but the break from hearing Dazai talk was nice.

“Ne, Chuuya,” Dazai said from his spot lazing about Chuuya’s couch in the living room.

It was honestly beyond aggravating how quickly the bastard spread himself out over the entire length of Chuuya’s couch. Making himself comfortable as if he owned the damn place.

“What?” Chuuya asked from his spot squished in between Dazai’s feet and the armrest of the couch.

“Now that we’re dating shouldn’t we practice kissing?”

Chuuya sputtered. What the fuck?!

“You know we’re not actually dating, right,” he stammered.

“Yes, yes,” Dazai hummed, “but if we’re going to kiss in public it has to look like we’ve at least kissed each other privately.”


Before Chuuya could finish his thought, Dazai sprung up from his position so his face was less than a foot away from Chuuya’s. He had never seen Dazai move so quickly in the entire three weeks they have been together.

“I’m just trying to make this as believable as possible,” Dazai murmured. “I don’t want us to get caught in a lie and get in even more trouble than we originally would’ve.”

Chuuya bit his lower lip, weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, he really didn’t want to kiss Dazai. He didn’t want to taste his probably too chapped lips, too sinister breath, and too sharp tongue. But on the other hand, he really, really didn’t want to face the possibility of being called a liar.

Deciding on an answer, Chuuya released his bottom lip with a huff of defeat. Dazai’s eyes flickered down to Chuuya’s now glistening lip.

“Alright, fine, whatever,” Chuuya finally said, “But I’m going to close my eyes the entire time and pretend you are literally anybody else.”

“Good, I was going to do the same thing anyway,” Dazai taunted.

Wordlessly, Dazai and Chuuya adjusted their positions so they were facing each other. Chuuya turned around so his back was leaning against the armrest, his legs crossed in front of him. Dazai was sat right in front of Chuuya, his legs also crossed.

Dazai reached forward so his hands were cupping both of Chuuya’s cheeks, directing their faces close together. Chuuya’s gaze was immediately drawn to Dazai’s lips as they slowly inched forward.

Chuuya would never admit it, but his heart was beating incredibly fast within his ribcage. So fast and so loud that he was worried Dazai could hear how nervous he was for the next few seconds.

It wasn’t that Chuuya hadn’t kissed anyone. He had. Lots of times. But they never meant anything. He rarely ever saw that person more than the current night they spent together. To have to kiss Dazai, to have to do it again and again, and for it to seem like secondhand nature because he was supposedly dating this asshole was terrifying.

Chuuya’s gaze watched Dazai’s lips until he could feel himself going cross-eyed. Finally, he kept true to his word and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt Dazai’s laughter against his mouth, but before he could defend himself, he felt Dazai’s lips press against his.


It was not nearly as bad as Chuuya anticipated.

Dazai’s lips were surprisingly soft.

The kiss started off slow, a few experimental pecks which slowly turned into quick presses against one another. And as time went on their lips started leaving each other’s less and less.

It should have been terrifying, how quickly they fell into rhythm with one another. How easily it was for Dazai to tilt his head to one side and slide his slips over Chuuya’s, so their pace was even. How with each pull of Dazai’s lips, Chuuya was immediately chasing his lips to come back. Or how quickly Chuuya’s heartrate evened out because he felt secure within the kiss.

But it didn’t feel that way. To Chuuya, it felt natural. And he couldn’t get enough.

At some point Chuuya’s hands found their way entangled in Dazai’s brown locks. It was a nice feeling, running his hands through Dazai’s hair which he had wanted to do for weeks now. Chuuya could finally confirm that Dazai’s hair was indeed softer than in looked.

The kiss began to turn deeper and deeper. One of Dazai’s hands moved down Chuuya’s body until it was resting on Chuuya’s hip. Chuuya’s head began to spin with the overwhelming taste of Dazai. He wanted more. No, he needed more.

Chuuya wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but one second, he and Dazai were sitting up straight. And the next second, he felt Dazai tilt forward, which led to Chuuya’s back was sliding down the couch.

Chuuya uncurled his legs so they were flat against the couch. Dazai also adjusted, so one leg was positioned between Chuuya’s, the other leg caught between the back of the couch and Chuuya’s body. The hand which was initially left cupping Chuuya’s cheek was now pressed against the side of Chuuya’s face so Dazai was propped on top of Chuuya.

It was only when Dazai licked Chuuya’s lips, asking permission to enter, that Chuuya gained spatial awareness of where he was, what he was doing, and who he was doing it with.

Chuuya released the grip he had on Dazai’s hair and let his hands slide down until they were pushing against Dazai’s chest. Dazai immediately took the hint and parted from Chuuya’s lips. It was embarrassing to admit that they were both panting a little.

Dazai’s eyes were blown wide, cheeks flushed, his hair a complete and utter mess, and his lips were bright red, clearly kiss swollen. Chuuya couldn’t even imagine what he looked like underneath Dazai.

“I think that’s good enough,” Chuuya mumbled.

Dazai quickly nodded his agreement. “For once, I agree with you.”

Chuuya’s heartrate began to pick up again as Dazai climbed off of him and they made their way over to Chuuya’s front entrance. Dazai turned so he was facing Chuuya, and for a split second he thought that Dazai was going to kiss him again. His heart started to pound even harder.

Instead Dazai said, “You’re still free Friday night to work, right?”

“Yeah, that should be good.”

“Well, until then, mon petite rockstar.”

“Uh, huh. Don’t be late next time.”

Dazai just winked at Chuuya and slipped out of Chuuya’s apartment without another word. Once Chuuya closed the door behind Dazai’s retreating figure, he leaned his back against the door and slid down until he was sitting.

Chuuya brought his fingers up to touch his lips and still felt them tingling.

God fucking dammit.

This was really, really bad.

Chapter Text

There was a part of Chuuya that was afraid come Friday there would be some level of awkwardness between him and Dazai. On his end, Chuuya knew that he was completely and utterly over thinking everything. That was one of the best kisses he had ever had in his entire life. It felt mutual and perfectly in synch. Chuuya really couldn’t even compare it to someone else.

Truthfully, the most terrifying part about this whole process was that he was going to have to trust Dazai.

Chuuya couldn’t deny that Dazai was smart. He was. Terrifyingly so. If Dazai thought that this was a good idea, then Chuuya was going to have to roll with it.

Thankfully Chuuya didn’t have a ton of time to dwell on Dazai. The next two days of his life were a whirlwind of interviews discussing the aftermath of his latest tour. Chuuya was glad that there was such a short turnaround from his dating announcement with Dazai to the interviews. It was an easy excuse to say that he didn’t have time to prepare answers rather than because he doesn’t want to talk about Dazai.

Even Friday turned out better than expected.

Dazai showed up to Chuuya’s apartment only ten minutes late with some rough ideas of what he wanted the music to sound like. Which was great considering Chuuya hadn’t even had time to think about their song.

Everything about this day was completely reversed: Dazai was sat at the piano, Chuuya was sitting on the couch passing judgement. They hardly bickered.

It was like something had completely shifted their relationship dynamic. Chuuya didn’t quite understand what had happened over the past few days, but he was not complaining in the slightest.

After Dazai played a vague tune of what he wanted the piano portion to sound like, he turned around to face Chuuya.

“What did you think?” He asked.

Chuuya shrugged. “It was alright. Honestly I’m surprised how bland it is.”

“Excuse me?”

“It just kind of sounds the same. I didn’t hear a clear key change that we agreed upon, or any dynamic tones which would highlight both the solos and the duets. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a decent start, I just think we can do better.”

Dazai hummed in thought. He spun around so he was looking down at the piano. He replayed a part in the song which was where one of Chuuya’s solos were.

“Can you sing your part here? I’ll keep adjusting until it matches your voice,” Dazai explained.

Chuuya complied, pulling out his lyrics sheet and locating the proper area. He sang the lyrics no less than fifteen times until they were both satisfied with the pace, pitch, and feel of the song.

They continued working like that, focusing on specific sections of the composition to work out the kinks. It took a couple hours, but they covered all the solos and decided to wrap it up. Mainly because Dazai’s stomach was starting to growl, and Chuuya could feel himself growing hungry too.

As if this night couldn’t get any weirder, Chuuya also decided that he really didn’t want to eat fast food again. Now that he was back in work mode he really needed to watch what he ate.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya said as they made their way into the living room, “Do you like fish?”

“Sure, I do, why?”

“Would you be okay if I cooked some tilapia for dinner?”

Dazai stared wide-eyed at Chuuya. “You can cook?”

“Uh, yeah?” He said, even though it sounded much more like a question since Dazai caught him so off guard. “What, can you not?”

Dazai shook his head no.

“For fucks sake, of course you can’t,” Chuuya groaned. “Alright, we’re heading to the kitchen. I’m going to teach you some basic things.”

Chuuya should have known that with Dazai nothing would be simple. He led them into the kitchen and instructed Dazai to stay put while he grabbed the ingredients. Naturally, Dazai did not stay put and started fiddling with the cabinet in front of him. Once Chuuya placed the fish and necessary spices on the counter, he turned to Dazai.

Dazai held up the cabinet’s knob and smiled sheepishly.

“I told you not to touch anything!” Chuuya exclaimed.

“No, you told me to stay put,” Dazai corrected. “Which I did. It’s not my fault that my arms can reach this drawer and that it has a loose knob.”

Chuuya groaned and snatched the knob out of Dazai’s hand. He placed it next to the sink, far out of Dazai’s reach.

Chuuya set off to work, prepping the fish. As we went through his routine, he explained to Dazai what was going on. Through the cutting, coating and glazing of the fish, and even prep work to setting up the stove. He explained to Dazai what utensils he was using and why. Dazai watched in silence, he seemed to be picking it up pretty quick.

Once Chuuya was ready to start frying the fish, he decided to trust Dazai with one very simple task.

“Dazai,” Chuuya called, with his back turned to the stove, starting on the clean-up. “Could you add two teaspoons of lemon juice to the pan and then hand me that to clean?”

“You got it!”

A few seconds later Dazai handed Chuuya the measuring spoon. Chuuya glanced at it and felt his heart drop down to his stomach.

“You used this?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Dazai, this is a tablespoon,” Chuuya replied, emphasis on the ‘table’ part.

“Isn’t that what you said?”

“No, I said teaspoon,” Chuuya said, this time with an emphasis on the ‘tea’ part.

“Oh,” Dazai paused. “I thought that was too much, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

Chuuya groaned.

“You know, Chuuya would make a pretty great housewife~”

Chuuya threw the tablespoon at Dazai’s shoulder. “Just for that, shithead, you’re going to finish cleaning up. You can’t possibly fuck that up.”

This time Chuuya was partially right. Dazai did clean the dishes. However, he didn’t quite dry the dishes fine. There were going to be streaks later, but Chuuya decided that was good enough.

As much as Chuuya wanted to trust Dazai with setting up the dining table, he also couldn’t do that. Chuuya instructed Dazai to again stay put in his seat, this time specifying to not touch anything.

Chuuya grabbed plates, forks, knives, and wine glasses and set them properly at his dining table. He then went back to where he stored all his wine in a pantry, and decided on a 1980 Pinot Grigio. Since the fish was lean and lanky the best pairing would be a wine which was zesty.

Only a few minutes passed between when Chuuya set dinner on the table and left to grab a wine. True to his word, Dazai was sat compliantly at his seat, not touching anything. Chuuya hummed to himself, poured two glasses, and then took his seat opposite Dazai.

Chuuya waved his hand in between them. “Go ahead.”

Dazai beamed up at Chuuya and began to cut the fish. All things considered, Chuuya was proud that dinner was good. Albeit a little too citrusy, but that’s what he gets for trusting Dazai.

“You know, I’m not usually a huge wine person,” Dazai said while finishing off his second glass. “But this is pretty good.”

 Chuuya scoffed. “Of course, it is. I’m not some fucking amateur who doesn’t know what tastes good.”

Dazai chuckled. Chuuya was already feeling more than a little buzzed. Reaching for the wine bottle, Chuuya poured himself a third glass.

Dazai raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure you can handle that much?”

“The fuck are you implying,” Chuuya snarled.

“You’re a lightweight,” Dazai pointed out.

Just as a giant ‘fuck you’ to Dazai, Chuuya downed half his glass of wine in one gulp.

“You were saying?”

It looked like Dazai wanted to say more, but he bit his bottom lip to keep him from arguing further. He settled on saying, “I’ll clean up.”

Chuuya was pleasantly surprised when Dazai cleaned everything correctly. Even going as far as to hand dry everything and place all the plates and utensils in their appropriate homes.

As far as Chuuya was concerned, his work for today was done. He moved over to the living room, grabbed one of his throw blankets and wrapped it around himself. Half full wine glass still in hand, Chuuya took small sips here and there as he snuggled up.

Being drunk had a lot of effects on Chuuya. Every single one of his emotions seemed to be heightened. If he was annoyed, he would scream. If he was sad, he would fight, or on rare occasions cry. If he was happy, he would sing. If he was tired, he would become cuddly. It seemed that today was the latter.

Dazai took a seat next to Chuuya. Chuuya blinked at him confused.

“You’re still here?”

Dazai raised his eyebrows, challenging. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chuuya pondered the thought for a minute. Everything was more sluggish than usual.

“Not really.”

Dazai waved his hand in response. He leaned back into the couch cushions, spreading his arms wide on either side of him. It was only because Dazai had a ginormous wingspan that Chuuya found himself kind of cuddling with Dazai. Not that Chuuya would ever call it that sober.

They didn’t talk for a while. The only sound coming occasionally from Chuuya sipping on his wine. After he drained his glass, Chuuya gently placed it down on the coffee table in front of him. He then resumed his position tucked into Dazai’s side.

“Hey, Chuuya?” Dazai asked.

“Mmhmm,” Chuuya mumbled.

“I’ve been wondering this for a while now, but I didn’t know how to ask. You don’t have to respond if you want, but why were your fans making such a big deal about you not wearing gloves?”

Chuuya tensed up against Dazai. It’s not that he didn’t think Dazai would ask, and honestly at this point in their relationship Chuuya wasn’t necessarily afraid to share the reason. It’s more that Dazai always teases Chuuya for everything. This meant the world to him.

“If I tell you, can you promise to not be such an ass about it?” Chuuya asked, a lot quieter than usual.

Dazai nodded his affirmation.

Chuuya breathed out. Slowly, he began to peel off the gloves. Once Chuuya placed the gloves beside him, he flexed his fingers, adjusting to the cold air. Then, he held up his hands in front of Dazai.

His skin was littered with scars. It wasn’t as apparent from the backs of Chuuya’s hands, only a few scrapes here and there, but once he turned his hands over it was clear. There were faded scars running from the palms of Chuuya’s hands all the way to his fingertips. Dazai’s eyes roamed over Chuuya’s hands without saying a word.

“I used to practice nearly every hour of the day,” Chuuya explained, “I only stopped playing guitar or bass when my fingers bled. And then when that would happen, I would play the drums or piano until my hands were good enough to practice string instruments again.

I repeated the cycle for years. The strain was so much on my hands that they never had enough time to heal, hence the scarring. I wear gloves because the scars are ugly, I guess. My fans don’t know the reason, just that I always wear gloves in public.”

Dazai didn’t say anything for a while. “Why haven’t you been wearing them around me recently?”

“I can’t really play as well with the gloves, so when I write music I take them off,” Chuuya replied.

Once again Dazai didn’t say anything. Then Dazai shifted next to Chuuya. He adjusted his position, so both of his arms were in front of his body. Chuuya held back a whine at the loss of heat.

With careful hands, Dazai rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He used his left hand to unwrap the ends of the bandages on his right arm and began to unravel. Dazai exposed his right forearm but didn’t go any higher.

Chuuya watched in silence and intrigue as Dazai continued. Once Dazai was done, Chuuya instinctively reached his hands out to touch the flesh. Dazai only tensed up for a second when Chuuya’s fingertips brushed the inside of his wrist, but he quickly relaxed.

They continued to sit in silence as Chuuya ran his fingers up and down Dazai’s forearm. He took in every indent of skin, every milky white or red gash. Chuuya didn’t necessarily feel sympathy for Dazai, partly because he knew Dazai would dismiss such gestures. Instead he felt connected to Dazai.

For the first time since they started hanging out, Chuuya felt like Dazai’s equal. They were both facing their own demons. Dazai was in fact human, even if he didn’t act like it sometimes.

Chuuya didn’t push Dazai to open up about the reason behind his own scars. Satisfied, Chuuya leaned against Dazai’s shoulder, his left hand loosely wrapped around Dazai’s right wrist.

“Thank you,” Chuuya whispered.

Dazai rested his own head on top of Chuuya’s and chuckled. “What a pair we make.”

Chuuya liked that. When Dazai laughed. He could feel the rumble of Dazai’s chest against his body, warming him to the core. Chuuya hummed in agreement, but closed his eyes, feeling the buzz of alcohol drift him off to sleep.




Chuuya woke up the next morning with a crick in his neck, an ache in his lower back, and a slight headache. At some point during the night he and Dazai leaned to one side, so Chuuya was laying more on Dazai’s chest than his shoulder. He propped himself up into a sitting position, repeating the mantra that he did not cuddle with Dazai last night.

He stood up from the couch, letting Dazai rest, and checked the notifications on his phone. In the middle of his notification list read: @nolongerhuman has tagged you in a picture.

Chuuya slid open the Twitter app and was met with a picture of himself asleep on Dazai’s shoulder. His lips were slightly parted, a few red strands of hair caught between his lips. He looked content.

At the top of Chuuya’s head, he could make out some tufts of brown hair. He assumed that Dazai leaned against him in order to get the right angle.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 7h

chuuya is such a cute lil drunk~ (づ ̄³ ̄)づ



Chuuya smiled and liked the tweet. He was especially thankful Dazai cropped the photo so that their arms weren’t showing.


hannah~ @littlechuuya – 6h

honestly dazai is the biggest chuuya stan


for the tainted sorrow @nakahaaaara – 6h

god bless dazai for giving us new chuuya content


sunshine @dadzai – 6h

dazai leaning his head on chuuya’s is the softest thing I have ever seen


osamu mood only @etherealdazai – 6h

seeing dazai this happy is UNREAL i will never get over this relationship



After a little more than a month of Dazai becoming a constant in his life, a week after their dating announcement, Chuuya stopped questioning Dazai’s odd behaviors. However, this one this one easily surpasses anything that Dazai has ever done before.

Chuuya was alone in his apartment after a particularly early morning for a breakfast interview with a TV show and a lunch interview with a magazine. He had a photoshoot tomorrow, but until then Chuuya just wanted to rest.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to get that either.

As he was lounging on his couch, book in hand, his front door flung open. Chuuya sprung up from his position, ready to fight, only to be met with Dazai.

“Um, what the fuck,” Chuuya sputtered out.

“Hey,” Dazai said, as if this was normal. “You should really lock your door.”

Chuuya blinked at Dazai in bewilderment. This is not real life.

“You shouldn’t be breaking and entering into my apartment! That’s illegal!”

Dazai waved his hand. “It’s only illegal if Chuuya reports me~”

“What are you doing here?” Chuuya groaned.

“I’m supposed to be getting a call from Kunikida-kun in ten minutes. Knowing him he won’t call me early, so I took a walk to clear my mind, and ended up here.”

“Is this about the mafia role?”


“Well, I guess you can stay here for a bit,” Chuuya sighed, “But I want you out as soon as possible, I have a busy day tomorrow and can’t fool around.”

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me?” Dazai asked, parroting Chuuya’s old words once again.

Chuuya threw the pillow he was using as a back rest at Dazai. He dodged it, naturally.

Dazai chuckled and began to pace around Chuuya’s apartment. He followed the same pattern: from the door leading to Chuuya’s studio, to Chuuya’s bedroom door.

True to Dazai’s word, he received a call ten minutes later, right as the minute turned. Dazai stopped dead in his tracks, right at the base of the couch.

“Ah Kunikida-kun~” He answered, “I hope you have good news for me.”

Chuuya closed his book in anticipation and watched Dazai’s facial expressions, trying to decipher what was going on. Dazai was incredibly hard to read. His face was completely blank as he took in whatever Kunikida was saying over the phone. Chuuya could feel his own heartrate spike, hoping that Dazai did get the part.

Not because it would make Dazai happy. But for his own sake. If Dazai didn’t get this role then he’d have to deal with a whiny baby.

“I see,” Dazai said, his voice devoid of emotion, “Thank you, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Dazai clicked end call and pocketed his phone. He sighed and made his way over to Chuuya.

“Well?” Chuuya prompted.

Next thing Chuuya knew he was swooped up into Dazai’s arms and swung around the room a couple times. Dazai was laughing hard, huge smile spread across his face. He set Chuuya down and squeezed his arms in excitement.

“I got it!” he exclaimed.

Chuuya didn’t realize he was already smiling, until he tried to smile harder.

“I’m really happy for you, Dazai,” he said genuinely.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Dazai said, already spinning on his heel to leave Chuuya’s apartment. “There’s so much I have to do. Are you free Friday night? We should go out on a celebratory date. You know what, I’ll make the reservations, just text me if something comes up. I’ll leave you to your night.”

Chuuya didn’t even have time to respond before Dazai left with a click of the front door. He fell back against his couch and picked up his book. At first, Chuuya tried to resume reading, but was quickly distracted by thoughts of Dazai’s smiling face. He looked happier in that moment than any other time while songwriting.




Chuuya had never been more nervous for a date in his entire life. It wasn’t even that he was going out with Dazai that terrified him, he honestly couldn’t give a shit about that. But there were going to be reporters, gossip magazines, and fans all watching them. On top of the usual judgement that comes from a date.

He was already done with tonight and Dazai hadn’t even picked him up.

Dazai was late, as usual. Which was bad because Chuuya had been dressed and ready for nearly thirty minutes, and with each passing minute Chuuya had the overwhelming urge to change. Deeming every outfit too much or not enough.

As of now, Chuuya settled on a nice three-part outfit. He was wearing tight black slacks, which hugged his ass and legs incredibly well. Deciding to stick with the theme of ‘double black,’ Chuuya wore a matching shade of black long sleeve shirt.

Overtop the shirt was a maroon colored vest which had a deep chest cut, stopping at the base of his stomach. In addition to the clothes, Chuuya decided on a matching shade maroon choker and hat. His gloves were standard black, but overall Chuuya thought he looked good.

But Chuuya had also thought that about the last seven outfits he tried on. Dozens of shirts and pants were strewn about his room, probably wrinkling if he didn’t pick them up soon.

He just wanted tonight to go perfect. He wanted to look good, so people thought this was serious, and he wanted to dress appropriate for the place Dazai was taking him. There was also a part of Chuuya that wanted to blow Dazai away because the bastard kept teasing all of Chuuya’s previous outfits.

Fuck, he just wished Dazai would show the fuck up already.

Chuuya fidgeted in front of his full body mirror once more. He brought his hands up to his collar and decided to unbutton the first two buttons of his undershirt. Finally, he felt like he could breathe. Much better.

It took a few more minutes of waiting around until Chuuya received a text that Dazai was waiting for him outside. As Chuuya left his apartment, he decided to deal with the clothes when he came back. It’s not like he and Dazai were going to use his bedroom anyway. A few wrinkles wouldn’t kill him.

Chuuya made his way down the apartment complex to where Dazai was waiting for him in a big black SUV. That was one of the things Chuuya always hated about being a celebrity. He could hardly go anywhere in public on his own. Always needing some sort of chauffer or bodyguard.

At least Dazai had the decency to stand outside the SUV and open the door for Chuuya. As Chuuya approached Dazai, he could see the other man rake his eyes up and down Chuuya’s body. Bingo.

Chuuya wasn’t even ashamed to say he did the same for Dazai. He looked really good. After their first meeting, Dazai always showed up in sweatshirts or some form of oversized jacket. Chuuya quickly realized that Dazai would only dress up if he had to.

This was one of those times.

Dazai was wearing black slacks as well, but that was the only similarity between their outfits. Dazai had a black suit jacket, layered underneath was a light brown textured vest, and an ocean blue undershirt. Overtop everything, Dazai wore a mid-size brown jacket, ending mid-thigh, similarly textured and colored to the vest.

He looked incredibly soft. But also, sharp. Chuuya hummed his approval.

“You clean up nice,” he said.

“So do you,” Dazai repeated. “I see what you mean by your date outfits are different.”

Chuuya huffed. “You need to stop doubting me.”

Dazai completely ignored the comment and brought his left hand up to finger at Chuuya’s choker between his fingers.

“I especially like this,” he said instead.

Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up at the close proximity but didn’t flinch away. He supposed the kissing made sense now. All of their physical contact made Chuuya desensitized to the whole thing. Maybe he should take his own advice and stop doubting Dazai.

“Thanks,” Chuuya replied, a little breathless.

Dazai dropped his fingers and smiled at Chuuya. He nodded his head to the open door. “Ready?”

“Where are we going exactly?” Chuuya asked as he slid into the car. “You kept it pretty fucking vague.”

Dazai hummed and slid in beside Chuuya. “I told you, we’re going out to dinner.”

“Yeah, but there are probably a thousand places to go to dinner in L.A.”

“You should’ve done some research then~”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“You keep saying these sweet things but never deliver. Honestly, Chuuya, you need to give me some sort of relief.”

Just for that, Chuuya smacked Dazai on the arm multiple times. Dazai laughed and didn’t even bother trying to swat Chuuya’s attacks away.

Feeling better, Chuuya huffed and crossed his arms. “It better be fucking expensive since you’re paying.”

Dazai whined. “Were you serious about that? Chuuya, I’m so poor.”

“Bullshit,” Chuuya exclaimed, “You probably have a greater net worth than I do!”

“Fifteen million, but who’s counting?”

Chuuya turned his head to look outside the window. Wherever they were going, it shouldn’t have been too far away from Chuuya’s apartment since he lived in the heart of the city.

The rest of the ride was sat in silence. Chuuya was still a little apprehensive about this whole thing, but hopefully his newfound trust in Dazai would pay off.

Five minutes later the SUV stopped in front of a nice restaurant. Chuuya peeked his head outside of the car’s window and read the sign above the entrance. He had never heard of it before, but it looked promising.

Dazai stepped out of the car first and held out his hand for Chuuya. Chuuya gratefully took Dazai’s hand to help pull him out of the car. Dazai closed the door behind him, squeezed Chuuya’s hand, and led the two into the restaurant.

There were a couple photographers outside but Chuuya didn’t think anything of it. This is what they wanted after all. He expected that it would be far worse in a couple hours when more people got wind of where they were.

Dazai provided his name to the hostess and the two were instantly led to a table tucked against a window. Chuuya groaned internally since that he meant he was going to have to be affectionate with Dazai all night.

Their waitress was practically hovering over them as they sat down and briefly looked over the drink’s menu. Chuuya ordered a wine whereas Dazai ordered a whiskey.

“You really don’t like wine?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai looked up at Chuuya from behind his menu. “I prefer other alcohols. Personally, I’m much more of a sake fan, but I don’t love which sakes Americans think are good.”

Chuuya snorted. “How very Japanese of you.”

“Huh, it’s almost like I am Japanese.”

Chuuya gasped, fake surprise. “No way so am I!”

“What a coincidence!”

Chuuya and Dazai looked at each other before snickering. It was nice and easy. The rest of dinner progressed that way too. Simple conversation and easy laughter. Chuuya really was glad Dazai had wormed his way into his life earlier. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to look past Dazai’s flaws and not bicker with him during dinner.

At some point towards the end of their evening Dazai snapped his fingers, eyes blown wide.

“I almost forgot,” he said while pulling out his phone.

Chuuya raised his eyebrows but didn’t question it. Dazai was Dazai. He took a sip of his wine, completely missing Dazai snap a picture and send out a quick tweet.

When Chuuya felt a buzz in his front pocket, he pulled out his phone instinctively and checked the notification. He slid open the Twitter notification, confused at what Dazai just tweeted. It was a picture of Chuuya, sipping wine, remnants of a smile on his face. He looked happy. He was happy.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 30s

get you a man who looks at you the way chuuya looks at wine (▰˘◡˘▰)



Chuuya chuckled. “Cute,” he said, “Give me something good too.”

Dazai rested one of his elbows on the table in front of him, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes and flashed a small smile. Chuuya’s heart fluttered. He blamed it on the alcohol and not how angelic Dazai looked in this soft lighting.

Chuuya took a few pictures and selected one to post himself.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 29s

So incredibly proud of this one. Congrats on your first acting role Dazai. Thank you all for the support!



Dazai remained in that position for the rest of the dinner. Once they received the bill, it wasn’t even argued that Dazai would, in fact, pay. Regardless, Chuuya was still touched. He reached his hand forward and squeezed Dazai’s outstretched palm.

“Thank you,” Chuuya whispered.

Dazai flashed him another smile.

Their hands remained that way until it was time to leave. Before they stood up, Dazai leaned over the table so his face was closer to Chuuya’s.

“Chuuya,” he said, “Can I kiss you?”

Oh, right. This was a date. There were most likely dozens of cameras on them right now, and twice as many waiting for them outside.

Chuuya nodded. He also leaned over the table to meet Dazai halfway.

Dazai leaned forward and pressed a soft closed-mouthed kiss against Chuuya’s lips. Chuuya’s eyes fluttered shut as he kissed Dazai back. It didn’t last too long, just enough so that Chuuya’s lips tingled when he pulled away.

Before they exited the restaurant, Dazai placed his hand at the small of Chuuya’s back. He led them forward, silently guaranteeing Chuuya that everything would be fine.

When they made their way out, Chuuya’s suspicions were confirmed. There were nearly thirty different cameras on them during their small walk from the restaurant to the SUV waiting.

Dazai opened the door for the both of them and pressed a chaste kiss to Chuuya’s cheek before they slid into the SUV. Once the door closed behind Dazai, Chuuya deflated against the car seat.

“That was exhausting,” he commented.

Dazai hummed. “It was kind of fun. We should do more stuff like that.”

Chuuya quirked an eyebrow at Dazai. “You think that shit is fun?”

“Sure,” Dazai said, shrugging his shoulders, “It’s just like acting.”

Right. Just like acting.

Chapter Text

Black Cat in the Rue Morgue

Osamu Dazai Can’t Be Stopped

Written by: Edgar Allan Poe

Over the past week, Osamu Dazai, 22, has had one of the busiest lives in show business. From making it apparent he is no longer on the market, to the announcement of his new movie Stray Dogs, Dazai is one of the hottest current entertainers.

Last Tuesday Dazai announced via Twitter that he is currently dating singer songwriter Chuuya Nakahara, 22.


Pictured above: Dazai and Nakahara’s announcement tweets

Since then, the new couple have only been spotted in a couple of pictures that Dazai himself has shared through Twitter. Because of the scarcity of their public relationship, it is unknown how long Dazai and Nakahara have been official. But one thing is for sure, Dazai and Nakahara seem to be very much in love.

For Nakahara, this is his first public relationship since he started gaining popularity. Nakahara’s sexuality was never discussed openly, leading many to believe that he was straight. The announcement of his relationship with Dazai was quite a shock. And not just because Dazai is a man.

Dazai has a history as being called a “womanizer” by various past ex-lovers. None of the claims have been sexual assault related, more so that Dazai moves on from women quickly, leaving a string of broken hearts. Because of this, the announcement of Dazai dating another man caught many by surprise.

Nonetheless, Dazai and Nakahara’s first public appearance seemed to clear up any rumors that the two are indeed head over heels in love.


Pictured above: Dazai and Nakahara enter into Undefeated by the Rain


Pictured above: Nakahara squeezes Dazai’s hand in reassurance


Pictured above: Dazai and Nakahara share a private kiss over their dinner table


Pictured above: Dazai and Nakahara leave Undefeated by the Rain


Pictured above: Dazai kisses Nakahara on the cheek whilst Nakahara seems to smile at the contact

We wish nothing for the best for Nakahara and Dazai as their relationship continues to blossom. It appears as though they have become accustom with the public eye, already spotted on two more outings. While it is not confirmed when their relationship started, it appears as though the two are incredibly comfortable around each other. Nakahara seems proud that Dazai has moved beyond the singing world and into acting.


Pictured above: Nakahara’s tweet congratulating Dazai on his new role

Which leads into the second part of Dazai’s insane week: his role as mafia boss Shuuji Tsushima in the new movie Stray Dogs, projected to come out in November.

On Thursday, a little more than a week after Dazai’s dating announcement, Stray Dog’smovie studio, The Guild, released the main cast list. Among the main actors were Dazai, Atsushi Nakajima, making his cinema debut, and Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, who previously starred in Rashoumon.

It is quite an interesting cast. Just looking at the main three, Akutagawa is the only member with previous acting experience. But, we have no doubt The Guild chose Nakajima and Dazai for a specific purpose.

As of now, not much is known about the movie. A basic plot synopsis that Francis Fitzgerald, the movie’s director, provided us is that, “Stray Dogsis about a mafia boss [Shuuji Tsushima] who comes to grips with what he defines as truly good and truly evil. After living a life shrouded by the darkness, a little light has him questioning his own morals and the morals of those around him.”

From the brief summary, we expect that this role should be intense for Dazai and wish him the best on his new journey. What do you guys think about all of this? Let us know below!

[read 501 comments]



Chuuya should have known that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid talking about Dazai forever. It has been nearly two months since Chuuya had come back from his world tour, so post-concert interview season was wrapping up. Really, he just had to get through four more interviews, one television and three magazines, and then he was free.

Well, until the single with Dazai came out. Then he would be bombarded with press events again. But that was a whole other story, since he wasn’t sure when that would even be released to the public. Dazai was slowly getting busier. Ever since the announcement of his acting role, everyone wanted to talk to him.

Dazai seemed to be an expert at avoiding questions though. Chuuya didn’t know much about the role, mainly because Dazai didn’t know much either, but what he did know is that it was going to be emotionally taxing. The amount of mental games that Dazai was going to have to play with himself in order to embody Shuuji was going to be difficult. Hopefully Dazai opened up to Chuuya during those moments.

Chuuya hadn’t actually discussed with Dazai how things were exactly going to change once filming began. He didn’t know much about the movie industry, only that it usually took between one and two months for production.

Oh, shit. Chuuya didn’t even account for pre-production. Now that he thinks about it, Chuuya remembers Dazai vaguely telling him that script readings were going to begin within the next couple of weeks.

Damn, Chuuya should really pay more attention to Dazai when he speaks. He decides to mentally add that to the list of things to talk to Dazai about during their next “date.”

After a particularly packed day of photoshoots for his live album, Chuuya received a call from Kouyou. Which isn’t necessarily bad, but considering Chuuya just said goodbye to Kouyou less than five minutes ago, spells trouble.

He answered the phone call as he entered his apartment.

“Hello, Ane-san,” Chuuya said, as he flopped down on his bed. “What’s up? Did I forget something?”

“No, lad,” Kouyou replied, “I figured this conversation would be easier to have over phone.”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You need to stop avoiding questions about Dazai-kun,” she said.

Chuuya groaned. Not even bothering to mask his annoyance. This was just Kouyou, after all. She knew Chuuya better than he knew himself.

“I really don’t want to do that,” Chuuya whimpered.

Kouyou clicked her tongue. “I knew you were going to say that, which is why I didn’t want to see you pouting and complaining.”

“I am not pouting and complaining,” Chuuya retorted.

Kouyou didn’t say anything over the line.

Okay, maybe, Chuuya was pouting and complaining. But it was justified. This was Dazai they were talking about. Sure, he wasn’t hating their time together, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go in front of everyone and look like some fucking love-struck teenager gushing over Dazai. He was still the worst. Just maybe less so than Chuuya initially thought.

“Alright, alright,” Chuuya relented, “I’ll do one interview where I talk about Dazai.”

Kouyou hummed in approval. “I was hoping you would say that.”

Chuuya felt his blood run cold. Kouyou would only say that when she already had something planned.

“What did you do?”

“I received a call today from the producers of the Tanizaki Siblings Talk Show. Apparently the other guest who was scheduled to go on before you had to cancel due to sickness. They’re giving you their slot in addition to what you already had. I want you to humor their questions about Dazai-kun.”

Chuuya almost screamed. And to make matters worse, he was supposed to go out to lunch with Dazai tomorrow. He anticipated that he would not have to stay on their set for nearly that long.

“I was supposed to get lunch with Dazai tomorrow,” Chuuya said dumbly.

“Take him with you. That would look even better.”

This time Chuuya did scream. Kouyou just chuckled over the line.

“You really are a demon, you know that?” Chuuya asked, deflated.

“Yes, of course,” Kouyou replied, unbothered. “I’ve also been meaning to ask how your song is coming along.”

Chuuya shrugged even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“We finished the lyrics a while ago, and the basic melody for the piano is almost done. Honestly, I have no fucking clue when it’ll be ready to record. Hopefully within the month, but I’ve been meaning to talk to Dazai about that.”

“What do you two talk about?”

“Basically everything besides the song!” Chuuya explained, exasperated, “Did you know he can juggle?”

“I did not.”

“He’s a goddamn enigma, I’ll tell you that much.”

“It sounds like you’re having fun,” Kouyou said. Chuuya did need to see her to know that she had a smile painted upon her lips.

Chuuya scoffed at the image. “Yeah fucking right. The only fun I have is when he leaves me alone.”

As if on cue, Chuuya felt his phone buzz against his ear signaling that he received a text. Most likely from Dazai. Ugh.

Over the line, Kouyou didn’t sound convinced. “Uh huh. Well, regardless, I hope to see both you and Dazai-kun tomorrow for the talk show. Have a good night, Chuuya.”

“You too, Ane-san,” Chuuya replied before they hung up.

Chuuya moved over to his messages and saw three unread texts from Dazai.


[Mackerel]: chuuya!!!!

[Mackerel]: i found this café u are going to love

[Mackerel]: it’s small and pretentions like u


[Me]: Haha very funny

[Me]: I’m going to have to take a rain check though interview came up


[Mackerel]: (╥_╥)

[Mackerel]: can’t i just come with chuuya and then we go out to lunch


[Me]: Have you been conspiring with Kouyou?

[Me]: She said the exact same thing


[Mackerel]: ohoho~

[Mackerel]: no i haven’t but you know what they say

[Mackerel]: great minds think alike~


[Me]: Ugh

[Me]: Fine you can join just don’t be weird about it


[Mackerel]: i would never~~



Chuuya was glad that he decided to talk to about Dazai on the Tanizaki Siblings Talk Show. He’s met Naomi and Junichiro many times before and they’re very nice people. Their affection for each other was a... tad bit scarring the first time Chuuya saw it, but at least they’re professional on camera.

And true to Dazai’s word, he wasn’t over the top annoying when they entered the studio. Dazai made sure to hold Chuuya’s hand, but besides that he was calm. Dazai seemed very aware that this interview was for Chuuya. The more he cooperated, the saner Chuuya would be during lunch.

So far, the interview was going really well. Chuuya was about halfway through it and it was simple banter. Everyone in the audience was selected based on if they knew and liked his work. Which made it even easier to engage with the audience.

And then the topic of “boyfriend” came up. Good thing Chuuya had been mentally preparing for this for hours.

Naomi spoke next, changing the subject entirely, “So, let’s talk about this boyfriend of yours.”


The hosts nodded.

“This is your first public relationship, how is that transition?” Naomi asked.

“It’s been pretty dividing,” he replied. “I didn’t think so many people cared about my personal life. I was definitely overwhelmed about the amount of people who have asked me about Dazai so far. Both critiques and well wishes, but that was expected. I try not to focus on the hate though, it feels pretty shallow.”

“And the coming out as gay part?” Naomi asked.

“That’s been way more positive,” Chuuya replied, fidgeting a little, “I think we were both incredibly thankful for that. My sexuality has always been a part of my life I’m not afraid to talk about, but coming out on such a large scale is scary.”

The audience clapped for that, which Chuuya was even more thankful for.

"Was there any negativity about dating Dazai specifically?” Naomi asked.

“You mean Osamu ‘the womanizer’ Dazai?” Chuuya asked, addressing the rumors up front. This is what Dazai was waiting for. For Chuuya to clear his name. And he was going to do a damn good job of keeping us his end of the deal.

Chuuya shrugged it off.

“Sure. A lot of people warned me that I was going to get hurt and that Dazai was only using me. But, Dazai has a far worse reputation than he deserves. I know that he would never cut me out without saying a word. I also know that Dazai would never cheat on me, with a man or a woman. I’m very happy to say the least.”

“Sounds like a crazy couple of weeks then,” Junichiro said, his sympathy clear.

Chuuya chuckled. “It’s been a whirlwind to say the least. But Dazai has been incredibly patient with me through the whole process, so I guess I’m pretty lucky.”

A couple ‘aww’s’ passed through the live studio audience. Which was the exact opposite of what was running through Chuuya’s mind. He wanted to vomit at the cheesy line.

“Is Dazai here now?” Naomi prompted.

“Uh, yeah,” Chuuya said, twisting around in his chair so he could get a good look behind him. He awkwardly waved at Dazai from behind the curtain separating the studio from backstage.

Chuuya was confused as to what Naomi was implying. She herself said hello to Dazai backstage.

The camera quickly followed Chuuya’s motions and caught the image of Dazai smiling wide and waving enthusiastically at Chuuya. He even blew a kiss for added affect.

“Would you like to join us, Dazai?” Naomi asked, completely bypassing Chuuya.

Chuuya whipped his head back around to face the Tanizaki siblings. Naomi had a smirk plastered on her face while Junichiro was trying to wave Naomi to stop speaking. But she completely disregarded the both of them.

From the screen behind them, Chuuya could see Dazai point at himself and ask, “Me?”

Naomi laughed. “Yes! Someone get Dazai a microphone, and he’ll come out after a commercial break.”

Once the red light on the top of the camera flickered off, Chuuya turned fully to Naomi. “You don’t have to do this,” he said sheepishly, hoping it came off as more embarrassment and not apprehension.

"Nonsense,” she exclaimed, “This is good for both of us, since we’ll be the first ones getting to talk to you two!”

"Right,” Chuuya trailed off.

“Don’t be nervous,” Junichiro piped in, “I promise I’ll hold Naomi back from asking too personal.”

Chuuya rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, thanks.”

The rest of the commercial break passed with the crew quickly moving out the single chair that Chuuya was sitting on and replaced it with a two-person couch. Chuuya resumed sitting down, waiting for the signal from the executive producer that they were going live.

Once the light on the camera turned red, it zoomed in on the two hosts.

“Now that we’re back, we’re super excited to introduce our surprise guest, singer and songwriter Osamu Dazai,” Naomi announced.

Chuuya, Naomi, and Junichiro stood up and Dazai followed his cue, walking out on set. He smiled and waved to the audience. They ate it up. Cheering hard, whoops and screams included. A couple girls in the crowd even screamed louder than when Chuuya made his own appearance. Figures.

Dazai made his way over Naomi and Junichiro first and gave each host a respectful hug. Then he walked over to Chuuya, leaned down and pressed a close-mouthed kiss against Chuuya’s lips.

Chuuya had just enough time to flutter his eyes shut and kiss Dazai back. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was just enough to make it look believable.

The two took a seat on the couch. Dazai was tucked against the farther armrest from the crowd, Chuuya by his side. It went unsaid that since Chuuya was shorter he needed to be in front.

Dazai wrapped his arm around Chuuya’s shoulders and pulled him closer, their thighs pressed against one another. Chuuya was practically fuming at the change of events. Dazai was so going to get it later.

“Thanks for being flexible, guys,” Junichiro said, small smile on his face.

Dazai waved him off before Chuuya got the chance to scream profanities.

“It’s no worry,” Dazai replied. “I’m excited to finally do something with Chuuya.”

Chuuya scoffed. “You see me almost every day.”

“Yes, but I don’t get to share you with the whole world every day.”

Chuuya groaned while the audience cooed. He hoped that didn’t get picked up in the audio recording.

“Almost every day?” Naomi repeated, “Are you two that serious?”

Dazai and Chuuya replied at the same time.

“Oh, yes.”

"Hell no.”

Dazai glared at Chuuya, silently begging him to not blow their cover.

Chuuya sighed. “Well, we haven’t even been dating for two months yet. I don’t want to label it as ‘serious.’ That was part of what I meant when I said Dazai is being so patient with me.”

Dazai squeezed his shoulder. To everyone else it would look reassuring, but Chuuya knew that meant Dazai was glad he found a good recovery.

“Two months? How did you two meet?” Junichiro asked. “That’s always been a gray area for me.”

Dazai and Chuuya laughed nervously.

“You want to tell it?” Dazai teased.

“I don’t like this story,” Chuuya groaned, nuzzling his face in Dazai’s neck. Partly to keep up the act, but partly because he really doesn’t like the story of how drunk-Chuuya ruined sober-Chuuya’s life.

Dazai laughed again and rubbed Chuuya’s shoulder comfortingly. “Chuuya drunk tweeted me.”

Everyone in the audience laughed. Chuuya visibly cringed.

“It was endearing though!” Dazai exclaimed, overly excited and eyes shining. “He said he really liked my music and wanted to work on a song with me. For the former, I contacted Chuuya and asked if he wanted to meet, and well, that ended about as well as you would’ve expected. For the latter, we’re currently working on something~”

Chuuya gasped, sat up straight, and punched Dazai lightly in the stomach.

“You’re not supposed to tell anyone about that,” Chuuya exclaimed.

Dazai shrugged. “I teased a song a little bit ago, we’re almost done. What’s the harm?”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow. “Are we almost done?”

Dazai laughed again. “Yes!” A pause. “Actually, I’m not so sure.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes, in what he hoped was fondness.

“Getting distracted?” Naomi teased.

“I’m not one to kiss and tell,” Dazai replied, winking at the camera.

“You’re also not one to work, literally ever,” Chuuya groaned. He turned to the audience, hoping they understood his frustration. “Do you know how hard it is to work with a genius? He will do literally nothing except maybe tell me when I’m on the right track.”

Dazai brought his free hand up to rest against his heart. “Chuuya, you think I’m a genius?”

"You know you’re a genius,” Chuuya replied.

Apparently no one shared his pain because everyone just laughed.

Dazai sighed dreamily. “Still nice to hear you say it.”

Junichiro’s voice brought Chuuya back facing the hosts, “So, was working together a strain on your relationship?”

“Not really,” Chuuya shrugged, “If it wasn’t for this song, Dazai and I wouldn’t have gotten to know each other. So, I guess it’s worth it.”

Dazai nodded. “Plus, since that was our first exposure to each other, I think we got over the awkwardness quickly. We saw the worst of the other in a stress related environment.”

Chuuya huffed out in agreement. “Tell me about it. I have never wanted to punch someone more than when Dazai just lays on my couch and doesn’t answer me.”

Dazai laughed.

He was doing that a lot during this interview. Laughing. Chuuya had never noticed that Dazai didn’t laugh enough. Was that his fault? Should be make Dazai laugh more?

But the more he compared these laughs to the ones they shared privately, it felt off. Less genuine? More forced? Chuuya hoped that meant Dazai was comfortable enough around Chuuya to not fake a laugh.

“You’re no dreamboat either,” Dazai added. “Sometimes Chuuya throws things at me.”

“Sounds like domestic abuse,” Naomi said, chuckling.

“That’s what I always tell him!” Dazai exclaimed.

Chuuya eyed Dazai wearingly. “I think you should clarify that the things I throw at you are pillows and I’m not actually hurting you.”

Dazai pulled Chuuya closer to his body and pressed a kiss against Chuuya’s forehead.

"My tiny Chibi would never hurt me~”

Chuuya bit back his response. Saying not if you keep that up would definitely get him in more trouble.

“So, Dazai,” Junichiro said, shifting topics, “Did you see Chuuya’s latest tour?”

“No, I didn’t,” Dazai replied. “We had never really spoken at the time. And I was working on landing my role in Stray Dogs, so I’ve been really out of the public eye these past few months. I heard it was very good though.”

“Did you listen to the album?” Naomi asked.

“I did! Rain Beat was easily my favorite song,” Dazai shifted his focus to Chuuya. “I heard you played an acoustic version live.”

Chuuya nodded. He was so dumbfounded that Dazai actually listened to his music, and genuinely liked a song, that he couldn’t speak.

“Will you play it for me sometime?”

Chuuya looked into Dazai’s eyes and for a second, he forgot that there were hundreds of people around him. In that moment, it was just Chuuya staring into Dazai’s big brown eyes and getting completely lost in how soft his features were.

Chuuya nodded shyly.

“You know,” Naomi said, snapping Chuuya back to reality, “You could play it here instead of what we planned originally. It wouldn’t take long to re-set up.”

Chuuya felt Dazai deflate next to him but didn’t comment on it further. Instead, he shrugged.

“Sure, I’ll just have to tune my acoustic guitar.”

“Well then, we’ll get that situated over another commercial break,” Junichiro said to the camera. “When we come back Chuuya will be singing Rain Beat live!”

The red light on the cameras flickered off. Immediately afterwards Chuuya leaned against Dazai’s chest. He didn’t even realize how tense he was.

“Thanks for that segway, Dazai,” Junichiro said. “And Chuuya, I really hope you don’t mind.”

Chuuya shook his head. “Of course not, I love that song.”

Dazai and Chuuya stood up. As if it were the simplest thing in the world, Dazai placed his hand on the small of Chuuya’s back and led them backstage. As they passed the studio audience each waved and smiled. Once backstage, Chuuya quickly made his way to where his instruments were located and prepared for the sudden change. 

Overall, that didn’t go bad at all. Hopefully Dazai felt the same way.




chuuya only @lovelynakahara – 46m

no offense but d*zai didn’t have to crash chuuya’s interview ... i rlly wanted to just see chuuya


double black is canon king @dachuu – 45m

chuuya roasting everyone who isn’t supporting his relationship with dazai is THE BIGGEST MOOD


tiffany ♬♬ @osxmu – 44m

I’m sorry chuuya getting that shy and soft around dazai is the sweetest god damn thing ever goals honestly


osamu~ @osqmudqzqi – 43m

hearing dazai laugh that much just added 15 years onto my lifespan UGH



Chuuya still wasn’t quite sure how Dazai’s script readings was going to affect their relationship. From what Dazai told Chuuya, it was going to take up most of the day. That meant no more lunches or afternoon work sessions. That also meant no more late-night work sessions, since Dazai had to be in a studio quite early in the morning. They would only be able to spend early evenings and weekends together.

On Saturday night, the weekend before Dazai’s first script reading, he decided to take Chuuya out to a dinner by a nearby park and then take a stroll through the trees while the sun began to set. Chuuya’s hopeless romantic side was eating this scene up.

Dinner was nice, as always. Dazai really had a talent for picking upscale places that pleased Chuuya’s refined tastes.

The walk was also nice. Dazai and Chuuya were holding hands, fingers interlaced. Chuuya noticed that there were some cameras pointed their way, but he didn’t really mind. This is what they wanted.

“So,” Chuuya began, “You nervous for script readings on Monday?”

Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s hand. “Me, nervous? As if.”

Chuuya snorted. “One of these days you’re going to fail.”

“Unlikely. But if I do, Chuuya will be there to pick me up~”

They walked in silence.

Chuuya looked at the flowers along the path as they went. It really was a beautiful night. Flowers of yellow, white, and red were scattered all throughout the grass. A few butterflies and bees flurried their way across the park. It was so peaceful. Like the whole world breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you going to miss me?” Dazai teased.

“As if.”

Dazai bumped their shoulder together. “It’s okay, you don’t have to lie.”

Chuuya tilted his head to look at Dazai, shooting him a venomous look.

“Maybe I’ll actually get some work done, now that the living leach is gone.”

“Hm,” Dazai pondered, “Sounds false, but perhaps. I’ll see you Friday night, so if you want to prove me wrong, you have until then.”

“A whole week without Dazai? How did I get so lucky?”

Dazai chuckled. “You’ll miss me by Wednesday, I guarantee it.”

Chuuya scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

They continued to walk in silence. Only once they reached an overgrown weeping willow tree did Dazai halt their movements. Chuuya looked up at Dazai and raised his eyebrow.


Dazai leaned down and looked Chuuya in the eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

Chuuya felt his cheeks up. “This is so public,” he pointed out.

Dazai reached forwards and plucked Chuuya’s hat off his head. Chuuya whined in protest until Dazai turned it sideways, the inside of the hat facing their faces. With their backs against the tree, it was almost like they had privacy from the amount of people looking at them.

“Can I kiss you now?” Dazai repeated.

Chuuya nodded. “Just so you know, I wasn’t going to say no before.”

Dazai closed the distance between them. The kiss was soft. It was also longer than their usual kisses in public. Chuuya assumed it was because they were hidden by the hat, so they could appear as if they were kissing a lot heavier than socially acceptable.

It was nice. Dazai was always a nice kisser.

Chuuya didn’t even notice that they had unclasped hands. Everything was so natural. Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck and pulled him closer. Dazai slipped his free arm around Chuuya’s waist, holding him tight.

Chuuya only noticed their new position when he felt a hand grab his ass.

Chuuya pulled apart from Dazai’s lips.


“What?” Dazai blinked innocently at Chuuya, patting Chuuya’s ass gently. “Just playing the part.”

Chuuya ripped the hat out of Dazai’s hand and started smacking him with it. Dazai started laughing and attempted to swat Chuuya away. “I’m,” smack, “going,” smack, “to,” smack, “kill,” smack, “you,” smack.

Dazai just laughed harder. After a minute of abuse, Dazai wrapped his tentacle-like arms around Chuuya, pinning his arms to the side of his body. He leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on Chuuya’s cheek.

“So violent~”

“Dazai!” Chuuya raged.

“Relax, mon petite rockstar, it was harmless,” Dazai said with a wink.




o expectations @nakaharas – 5m




double (black) suicide @babychuuya – 4m



here u are; @preciousdazai – 4m

real talk the hat thing was so cute i cannot believe how in love these two are

Chapter Text

Sunday was boring.

Monday was even more boring.

Tuesday was, somehow, even more boring.

Chuuya hated to admit it, but by Wednesday he was finding that he did actually miss the thorn in his side that was Osamu Dazai. Not that he would ever give Dazai that amount of satisfaction.

It’s not that Chuuya didn’t do work. He did. He had two magazine interviews earlier this week and attempted to edit the song during the nights. Attempted being the key word. Chuuya could only spend like twenty minutes max on the collaboration song before he got frustrated with himself. But dammit, he didn’t want to admit to Dazai that he was right.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

As Chuuya was strumming on his guitar, an idea for a chord stuck in his head, he felt his phone buzz beside him. Three new messages from Mackerel.


[Mackerel]: chuuya!!!

[Mackerel]: it’s wednesday

[Mackerel]: do u miss me yet


Chuuya felt the tips of his ears go warm. Ugh. He hated that after nearly two months of knowing Dazai, he still somehow managed to rile Chuuya up. It was infuriatingly easy for Dazai to piss Chuuya off.


[Me]: No I told you I wouldn’t miss your sorry ass


[Mackerel]: a bit defensive aren’t we~

[Mackerel]: and u answered pretty quick

[Mackerel]: were you waiting for me~~


[Me]: As if


[Mackerel]: can i call u?


Chuuya was at a loss for words. They didn’t really call. It was more like they scheduled meetings and talked then. Sure, they texted throughout the other days when they weren’t meeting, but that didn’t mean anything.

This was Dazai, thought. It shouldn’t mean anything regardless, right?

It has only been four days since Chuuya has seen Dazai. It was pretty ridiculous that this was the longest he’s gone without seeing Dazai since their first meeting. And what made it even more ridiculous is that he still wouldn’t see Dazai until Friday. That felt like so far away.

Truthfully, Chuuya has been very confused about his feelings over the past couple of days. Not seeing Dazai left Chuuya with a lot of time to think about Dazai. Which was infinitely worse.

Combined with the dozens of news and gossip articles that appeared just by searching either of their names, Chuuya was bound to be left baffled. Not that Chuuya usually read gossip magazines, but hey, he was extremely bored.

Chuuya wasn’t blind. He saw the pictures and read the analyses of their relationship. They did very much look in love.

It’s not that this is the first time Chuuya’s thought about them either. He has. Many times. But every time he thought Dazai meant more than what he said, or every time he fell asleep smiling because of Dazai, or whenever he caught himself remembering something dorky Dazai did, Chuuya immediately pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn’t want to pretend there was actually something blooming between them.

Not letting himself admit the true nature of his feelings and actions was really starting to affect Chuuya more than he initially thought it would. A huge part of Chuuya hoped that if he just ignored his internal conflicts, that they would go away. Guess not.

Because, of course, Chuuya found Dazai attractive. He openly tweeted about it, there was no point in pretending that there wasn’t some sort of physical attraction present. Chuuya just didn’t want to admit that his feelings for Dazai ran deeper than that.

Because Dazai didn’t like Chuuya. At least, Dazai always made it a point to comment that all of this was pretend and that it was fun to act. And Chuuya really didn’t want to fall in love. Especially not with Dazai.

But then Chuuya would think about all of their past interactions. All of their “dates.” How every single time, Chuuya could pinpoint at least five minutes where he forgot that there were cameras, that they were famous, and that this was fake. How Chuuya really did enjoy Dazai’s company.

He groaned aloud.

He was so confused.

All of this back and forth thinking was exhausting.

Leave it to Dazai to still cause Chuuya an immense amount of suffering even when he wasn’t physically present.

The only reason why Chuuya hadn’t literally combusted into flames was because he had his music. During the times when Chuuya wanted to scream the most, he turned to his drums, usually, and banged out a really therapeutic session.

The best part of his week was when Chuuya actually started formulating ideas for his own solo stuff. It was all just thoughts, since he wanted to get Black Lizard’s opinion on it first. Chuuya really should text their group chat. It’s been a couple weeks since he’s responded to their messages. But still. Progress.

Back to the issue at hand: calling Dazai.

Since Chuuya was so confused, he really didn’t want Dazai to know that he was completely overthinking their relationship. Furthermore, he really didn’t want Dazai to think that there was anything wrong. Because there wasn’t. Chuuya was probably just believing the tabloids too quickly. At least they were doing a good job of looking in love.


[Me]: Sure


Not even a minute later Chuuya felt his phone ringing, signaling Dazai’s call.


“Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed over the phone. He sounded genuinely happy.

No, Chuuya, he chastised himself internally, you’re just going to hurt yourself.

“Hey, Dazai,” Chuuya replied.

“Hi, Chibi,” Dazai purred over the line.

Chuuya groaned. Ah, yes. This is why he couldn’t actually have feelings for Dazai. He was annoying as fuck.

Dazai just laughed over the phone. “How was your day?”

Chuuya was so fucking confused by Dazai. He seriously could not read this bastard. This really wasn’t a reason to call.

“Uh, it was alright. How about you?”

Dazai sighed. “It was a lot,” he complained, “I thought script readings were supposed to be easy, but I’ve already had to wake up early for three days thanks to Kunikida-kun screaming at me.”

Chuuya chuckled. At least someone understood his pain.

“You poor baby,” he replied, no sympathy in his voice.

“I know right,” Dazai exclaimed, not picking up on Chuuya’s tone at all. Or if he was, completely choosing to ignore it.

“I really like Atsushi-kun,” Dazai continued. “He’s so adorably naïve and good natured. I think he’s really going to add a lot to this movie.”

Chuuya quirked his eyebrow at that. Dazai rarely ever spoke so openly and positively about someone other than himself. This Atsushi kid must have really made an impression on Dazai.

Chuuya felt his stomach twist and turn. Was this jealousy? He really fucking hoped not. He should not be feeling jealous over some kid that Dazai was acting with. That was completely unprofessional. Besides, Dazai could fuck whoever he wanted. It’s not like Chuuya cared.

“Earth to Chuuya?” Dazai teased, “You still with me?”

Chuuya felt the flush from his ears spread down to his cheeks. Fuck, he didn’t mean to completely space out what Dazai was saying. What was happening to him? Why was he all of a sudden being so affected by what Dazai?

“Oh, yeah, sorry, what did you just say?”

Dazai chuckled low over the line. “My little slug is so slow.”


Dazai laughed again and repeated what he said. Soon Dazai went on a complete tangent about his two new costars. Even though he didn’t speak much about Akutagawa, and what he did say was passive aggressive, it seemed like Dazai also had high hopes for him.

Chuuya let Dazai talk about everything and anything, not really interjecting unless Dazai directly asked him a question. It was nice to just hear Dazai speak. Chuuya liked Dazai’s voice. It was silky smooth and washed over him in a way that made him feel safe.

“So,” Dazai said, finishing one tangent and moving to the next, “Any song updates?”


Technically Chuuya had revised the duet portions of the songs since he seemed to have a pretty good understanding of what Dazai liked and what Dazai thought sounded good. But it still sounded clunky. He really needed Dazai to help him sing those parts in order to feel the music.

Chuuya had also started on the guitar portion. Not that that meant anything because he just took out a sheet of paper and scribbled ‘guitar’ on the top with nothing else underneath.

“I worked a little, but not a lot.”

Dazai hummed. “Do you think you’ll have anything to show me by Friday?”

Chuuya felt his blood run hot. No way in hell was he proving Dazai right.

“Oh, I definitely will, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

Dazai gasped over dramatically. “Chuuya thinks I’m pretty?”

“No,” Chuuya screamed, “It’s a figure of speech, dammit!”

“Well at least I know now that Chuuya has been thinking about me because he misses me~”

Chuuya buried his head in his hand and groaned again.

“You are so fucking annoying,” he said, exasperated.

“But Chuuya isn’t denying that he misses me!”

“I’m going to reach my hands through this phone and strangle you.”

Dazai hummed, contemplatively. “Can you even reach my neck?”

Chuuya hung up his phone to the deafening sounds of Dazai’s laughter through the phone line.

Not even a minute later Chuuya received a message from Dazai. Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up even more. God dammit. He really needed to figure out what the fuck was going on with him.


[Mackerel]: i miss you too (◡‿◡✿)



Chuuya worked with a newfound fervor up until Friday. There was no way that he was going to prove Dazai right. Whoever said that spite was not a good motivator was dead wrong. Chuuya had done more work within the past two days than he had in weeks.

Too bad Dazai vetoed literally every addition and change that Chuuya proposed. Chuuya had written the most basic drumline, guitar line, and bassline known to man. And yet Dazai still claimed even the simple chords didn’t suit his voice.

God, what a fucking waste of time. And what a fucking brat.

After bickering for many minutes on what they should do, Dazai decided that they should record the song acapella. Since Dazai was leaving for filming soon and Chuuya really wanted to submit the song to their record companies within the next coupls of months, that meant Chuuya would have to do a lot of work on his own.

Oh, yeah. Dazai was also leaving the country for an entire month. Which he completely forgot to fucking tell Chuuya. Chuuya didn’t even know why he was surprised anymore. Of course, Dazai would do something like this. Of course, he would completely keep Chuuya in the dark about his life.


It’s not that Chuuya would miss Dazai. It’s more like he’s not quite sure what to do without the schedules Dazai proposed. At least now he could meet up with Black Lizard. That was a good excuse.

Once Dazai and Chuuya recorded the vocals with the choppy piano beat, Dazai decided to call in a night. Chuuya didn’t even try to fight it. Theoretically, he would have loved to polish the piano portion. But he knew, realistically, that would never happen.

When Dazai decided to be lazy, he would stay lazy. Plus, Chuuya was still fuming at Dazai for springing up his very near departure without giving Chuuya any sort of heads up. He knew that not talking would be best for both of them.

They were lounging on Chuuya’s leather couch in the studio. Dazai was sitting up straight and browsing his phone, while Chuuya was sitting so his back was leaning against Dazai’s side, fingers strumming his guitar to an old song of his.

“When do you leave?” Chuuya asked softly, barely audible over the music.

“Early next Sunday. I thought I could take you out to a museum next Saturday, if you would like that,” Dazai offered.


They sat in silence as Chuuya continued to play whatever was on his mind. Chuuya was still incredibly confused by his feelings. He knew that right now, in this moment, he was content. With his back against Dazai, heat radiating from the other, lulling Chuuya into feeling comforted, he felt relaxed and cared for.

But then Dazai would open his big mouth and say something either fucking stupid or fucking antagonizing. Most likely a mixture of both. And then Chuuya would blow up at him.

God, Chuuya hated Dazai.

He hated that Dazai never told him anything. Never acknowledged how good of a musician he was. Instead Chuuya always ended up submitting to Dazai’s schemes because by the time he realized what the hell was going on, it was already too late to win.

Sometimes, however, Chuuya would see a softer side of Dazai. How willing Dazai was to show Chuuya his scars. How sometimes Dazai rambled unfiltered to Chuuya and Chuuya got glimpses of the lonely mind that Dazai constantly has to fight. And Dazai does really seem to care. He always listens to Chuuya’s every word.

Fuck. Dazai was still a womanizer, though. That name was given to him for a reason. Maybe he just always flirts with people like this? Chuuya is probably reading far too much into their time together, because he so desperately wants there to be something.

Chuuya would never admit that he keeps telling himself he hates Dazai because he doesn’t want to deal with the crash of emotions that comes with openly liking Dazai.

He really needs to stop doing that. Not allowing himself to admit his own feelings. It led to issues like this, where Chuuya was left dumbfounded. But it was just so much easier, and he was far less likely to get hurt.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dazai asked, pocketing his phone, full attention on Chuuya.

Chuuya shrugged his shoulders. “It’s nothing important.”

“Your thoughts are never unimportant, Chuuya,” Dazai replied.

And there it was again. The side of Dazai which sent Chuuya into a spiral of conflicting emotions. Why the fuck is being so nice for no reason?

Chuuya huffed out a sigh. He leaned his head back, so he was resting on Dazai’s shoulder, face pointed towards the ceiling. Chuuya fluttered his eyes shut and continued to play the same notes over and over. It was basically secondhand nature at this point, he didn’t need to see the strings. At least for a moment Chuuya could pretend that he knew what he wanted.

“I promise, it’s nothing, Dazai. I’ll get over it.”

Chuuya missed the way that Dazai furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the ambiguity and vagueness of Chuuya’s comment.



The next week passed just as uneventful as the last. Chuuya tried and failed to compose anything worthy to show Dazai. As much as he hated to admit it, it was a really good idea on Dazai’s part to have them record the vocals.

Chuuya finally understood what Dazai meant when something Chuuya wrote didn’t match his voice. When composing, Chuuya was used to loud drums and strong guitar riffs. If he added that, however, he would completely drown out Dazai’s voice. It was a lot softer than Chuuya realized.


Well at least Dazai was good for something.

Dazai was also good at never fucking showing up on time. Because he was late. Again. Chuuya tapped his phone impatiently. Fuck, why couldn’t Dazai just be normal?

Chuuya was actually really excited to go to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. He had lived in L.A. for nearly six years now, but Chuuya never really had the excuse to go out and explore. In order to do said exploring, Dazai first needed to pick him up.

After ten minutes of checking and re-checking his appearance, Chuuya heard a knock at the door. That was strange. Usually Dazai just texted Chuuya that he was outside. Chuuya made his way to his front entrance and opened the door.

On the other side was a smiling Dazai, holding a bouquet of red camellias. Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up but schooled his face to look unimpressed. He quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that your excuse for showing up late?”

Dazai shook his head no. “I wanted you to remember me when I’m gone.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he said, a lot softer than before.

With gentle fingers, Chuuya took the bouquet out of Dazai’s grip. He moved around his apartment, quickly putting the flowers in a vase with water and hummed to himself. Once satisfied with how they looked on his kitchen counter, he returned to Dazai.

“Ready?” Dazai asked.

Chuuya nodded.

Dazai reached forward and laced his fingers with Chuuya’s. He tugged the two of them out of Chuuya’s apartment complex and down to the black car waiting below.

The drive wasn’t too bad. Dazai and Chuuya’s hands were still clasped together, lying between the both of them. Selfishly, Chuuya always looked forward to his “dates” with Dazai. Dazai always looked really good.

Today Dazai was wearing a dark blue jean jacket, unbuttoned, with a fitted white shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up, and unlike the first time Dazai rolled up his sleeves, Chuuya actually really enjoyed the bandages wrapped around his arms. Dazai was also wearing gray skinny jeans and black shoes.

Chuuya was wearing a tight fitted, sand colored turtleneck, the neck line reaching high up to his chin. The turtleneck was tucked into a pair of high waisted black slacks, and accessorized with black shoes, black gloves, and a black scarf that hung open on both sides of Chuuya’s body.

He decided to forgo the hat today. Mainly because after the last stunt Dazai pulled, Chuuya was afraid they were going to make headlines again. Pervert.

Once they reached the art museum, Dazai led the way. He paid for tickets and led them through the different exhibits. Chuuya was thoroughly impressed with how big this art museum was. It didn’t look nearly this vast from the outside.

Chuuya could have spent an entire day in each exhibit. Because Chuuya had such refined tastes, it wasn’t a stretch for Dazai to assume that he also loved art. It was a really good choice. Dazai seemed to be able to read Chuuya incredibly well, since every outing was perfectly planned.

For as much as Chuuya loved the art and the different styles and rooms, it was also pretty entertaining for Dazai to be by his side. Whenever Dazai didn’t quite understand what a painting or sculpture represented, instead of whining, he made lots of different jokes.

Sometimes, Dazai would stand in front of an extremely expressive painting and contort his face in order to mimic what was going on. Other times he would comment on how falling on top of a sculpture in such a way would kill him instantly. And on rare occasions, when Chuuya was really happy finding an art style he loved, Dazai would just rest his cheek on Chuuya’s shoulder and mouth at his jawline.

That was when Chuuya knew he needed to keep them moving.

There were, however, times when Dazai’s eye caught something and he would stare fixated at one painting for what felt like hours. Each and every time he would whisper to Chuuya, “I get this one,” as if he had cracked the secret code to understanding the universe.

It was adorable. Chuuya never wanted to tug Dazai away from the paintings at the time. It was always paintings too, never sculptures. Always paintings that were dark but had a shimmer of light scattered somewhere. Instead, Chuuya stared openly at Dazai, unashamed since he was pretty sure Dazai didn’t even notice that Chuuya was by his side during those times.

At least during their “dates” Chuuya didn’t have to worry about looking like he liked Dazai. That was his job, after all.

There was, however, one room that Dazai was bouncing off the walls excited to drag Chuuya to. It took them a while to make their way to whatever Dazai kept whining about, but once Chuuya entered inside, it took his breath away.

“It’s called the Rain Room,” Dazai muttered, breath hot against Chuuya’s ear, “I had to bribe the lady selling the tickets to give us some because they were sold out for today.”

Chuuya chuckled. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, no real heat to his words.

The room was practically pitch black. The only source of light was located on the ceiling in the center of the room, illuminating what looked like millions of raindrops.

The entire scene in front of Chuuya looked like a snapshot. Like someone had captured the exact moment that rain was falling and Chuuya happened to be able to move throughout the picture. As if they were one.

Chuuya stepped forward and reached his hand out to touch the rain. He half expected for his hand to feel wet by just how real it looked, and was somewhat disappointed when he touched icicle-looking strands of plastic.

Dazai disappeared from Chuuya side, but only for a moment. Chuuya turned around to look for Dazai and found him smiling at Chuuya behind his phone camera. Chuuya felt a smile form on his face as well. He reached his arm out and made a grabbing motion for Dazai to join him.

In response, Dazai held up one finger to signal to wait. Chuuya dropped his hand down by his side and watched as Dazai moved off a little to the side where two girls were staring blatantly at the display.

Chuuya couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, since the room was so noisy, but from the telltale smiles and the girls’ phones held up in an obvious selfie angle meant that they recognized Dazai. Dazai then handed off his phone and made his way back to Chuuya.

“Did you just leave me on a date to go flirt?” Chuuya teased.

Dazai gripped both hands over his heart and gasped. “Chuuya,” he exclaimed, “How dare you accuse me of having eyes for anyone else but you.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes fondly.

Dazai flashed a smile right back and moved his hands up to cup Chuuya’s cheeks. Chuuya leaned into the touch, already anticipating where this was going. They both leaned in to kiss, but right before their lips made contact Dazai asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Chuuya laughed softly and nodded. Dazai closed the distance between the two. Their eyes fluttered shut, completely lost in their own little world.

Chuuya moved his hands up to grip Dazai on both sides of his waist. Every time Chuuya’s lips slid across Dazai’s, he always felt lightheaded. At least if he moved his hands up and down Dazai’s waist teasingly he was grounded to where he was standing.

Like with most of their public kisses, it didn’t last too long. A minute at most. But to Chuuya it felt like so much more. Each time Dazai’s lips parted from Chuuya’s, it took every ounce of restraint to not chase Dazai’s lips right back.

Fuck. He was really going to miss not being able to kiss Dazai.

No bad, Chuuya, he internally chastised himself.

Dazai smiled again at Chuuya before working his way out of their embrace, and back over to the girls. He seemed to thank them graciously, retrieved his phone, and then made his way back to Chuuya. After returning to Chuuya’s side, he wordlessly slid his left arm around Chuuya’s waist, pulling their bodies flush against one another. Dazai wasn’t paying attention to Chuuya though, his entire focus on scrolling through his phone.

Chuuya leaned over to see what he was looking at. Oh. Dazai asked those girls to take pictures of them. Chuuya didn’t quite know how to feel about his beating heart. On one hand, this solidified that everything between them was fake and how Dazai only kissed him for the picture. On the other hand, Dazai now had dozens more pictures than he needed. Maybe he’ll just keep them?

Chuuya watched as Dazai chose a picture he enjoyed the most, captioned it on Twitter, and posted it. He couldn’t help but snort at how cheesy Dazai was.

“I hope you don’t talk about your actual girlfriends like that,” Chuuya commented.

Dazai swallowed. “What? You don’t think that’s cute?”

Chuuya chuckled and bumped their shoulders together, exactly like what Dazai did two weeks ago, “I think you’re dumb.”

Dazai whined the entire rest of the way through the museum.




osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 3h

one last kiss with my favorite rockstar before i’m off to japan tomorrow~

every time i see the rain i will think of you, mon petite (• ε •)




dazai’s suicide @dazaisexual – 3h

god I wish I was chuuya rn


mon petite @chuuyaswine – 3h

this is the cutest fuckign thing I have ever seen I’m going to kms


kissy kissy @osamusdazais – 3h

chuuya not going with dazai to japan is extremely homophobic


gloria <(' .' )> @lovesdazai – 3h

hi so like I took that picture of double black and my hands were shaking the whole time


gloria <(' .' )> @lovesdazai – 3h

no deadass look at how CUTE dazai is

i love these selfies

[image.jpg] [image.jpg]


gloria <(' .' )> @lovesdazai – 3h

also my friend snapped this pic of chuuya looking at dazai when he thought no one was watching so lmk who doesn’t support these two


Chapter Text

Knowing Dazai, there was a huge part of Chuuya that expected to wake up on Sunday with a bombardment of texts from said bastard all revolving around ‘surprise, I’m not actually in Japan!’ Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how Chuuya wanted to look at it, that was not the case.

Chuuya woke up to a few texts from Dazai whining about how early it was and a selfie of his airport outfit. Apparently Dazai had also decided to wear a face mask, which Chuuya himself hadn’t worn in years. He felt extremely nostalgic.

There was no way Dazai was off the plane yet, so Chuuya shot Dazai a simple text in Japanese welcoming him home, and then forced himself out of bed to start his morning routine. Chuuya really didn’t have anything on his schedule for today. Maybe he would go for a run? He hadn’t worked his muscles out in what felt like ages.

Deciding that was the plan for his morning, Chuuya decided to forgo his shower, and save it for later. He changed into shorts, a dry fit shirt, running shoes, and placed a ball cap over his recognizable red hair. It took a few minutes for Chuuya to stretch out all his muscles, not wanting to pull anything because it had been so long.

Once Chuuya was ready to go, he grabbed his phone and headphones and queued up a couple hours worth of songs. If over half of the songs were Dazai’s, well no one really had to know that.




Chuuya absolutely loved running. And working out in general, for that matter. He didn’t know why he didn’t do it more often. Probably because he was so fixated on his music right now that he didn’t have time to think about anything else.

While on runs Chuuya also didn’t mind being stopped by fans. It didn’t happen often, but it was pretty funny when it did. Chuuya was always out of breath because he was, well, running his hardest. And sometimes his fans would also be out of breath because they stumbled into Chuuya. The juxtaposition was pretty hilarious.

During his most reason session, Chuuya ran into fifteen people. Which was pretty low considering it was a Sunday afternoon at a nearby park. It was especially nice too, because he was only stopped once, people gathering up for an impromptu meet and greet after he was recognized.

Chuuya posed for pictures and apologized for how sweaty he was, but no one really seemed to mind. One girl in particular asked Chuuya a lot of questions about Dazai, which was equal parts funny and annoying.

“Do you miss Dazai?” she asked. A couple other fans laughed.

Chuuya chuckled along with them and shrugged. “I mean, he left this morning, so there’s not much to miss.”

More small laughter.

Chuuya reached for his phone and paused his music, thinking that this was going to be a long conversation. A couple fans very non-discreetly looked over at his phone, trying to catch a glimpse at what was on their favorite rockstar’s lockscreen.

“Were you listening to Dazai?” another fan asked.

Chuuya glanced down at his playlist and scoffed, not annoyed at all. “Huh, so I was. Even when he’s not here, that bastard is following me everywhere.”

Another wave of laughter.

“Do you have a favorite song of Dazai’s?” a guy piped in from the back.

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. That was a good question. He sucked on his bottom lip as he thought.

“I do but it’s kind of an obscure song,” Chuuya finally said, “It’s Eien Misui ni Good Bye. I think Dazai re-sang the song in English and called it Double Suicide. But, personally, I think the Japanese version is prettier and has a more hopeful interpretation than the English version.”

A few fans nodded their approval. Chuuya awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, not used to this much scrutiny because he was talking about someone else’s songs.

After answering a few more questions and indulging in a few more pictures, Chuuya waved goodbye to everyone who was hanging around. He really wanted to finish his run so he could eat.




jan @soothingchuuya – 58m

so like this is definitely chuuya right



I JUST MET CHUUYA @paintingnakahara – 57m


[image.jpg] [image.jpg]


margret misses chuuya @kiingchuuya – 57m

chuuya keeps apologizing for being sweaty i don’t think he realizes how god damn thirsty we all are for him


only love @chvvya – 38m

here’s a video of chuuya talking about dazai for a minute straight they really are That Couple





Thirty minutes later, Chuuya was back inside his apartment. He was out of breath, dirty from sweat and some sand he kicked up, sore because of how out of practice he was, and starving. But he felt good. Really good.

Right as Chuuya was about to raid his fridge, he felt his phone buzz insistently in his pocket. Out of habit, Chuuya picked up his phone without looking at the caller ID. It was probably just Kouyou anyway.

“Hello?” He asked, still a little out of breath.

“Chuuya,” a fairly recognizable, but still none the less infuriating voice said over the line.

“Dazai?” Chuuya asked, his confusion clear.

“The one and only,” Dazai exclaimed.

“I thought you were still on a plane?”

Dazai hummed. “Well evidently not,” he teased. “Are you sure you did your math correctly?”

Chuuya groaned. It was too early within Dazai’s stay in Japan to wish the other man to never return back to the U.S.

Dazai laughed over the phone. “I enjoyed your text. I didn’t know you still spoke Japanese.”

“I really hope you’re joking,” Chuuya deadpanned.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Dazai replied, chuckling, “But still, you should speak it more often, you have a nice voice.”

Chuuya stared at the camellias on his kitchen counter. After hearing it was Dazai who called him, Chuuya stopped dead in his tracks. Only now did he fully process that he stopped hunting down food for his post workout meal.

Chuuya grunted his acknowledgment, moving back to the task at hand of finding and making lunch.

“My Chibi is making such suggestive noises. First panting and now grunting, is Chuuya cheating on me?”

Chuuya sighed. “Why are you the way that you are?”

“You’re not answering~” Dazai sing-songed.

Even though Dazai sounded cheerful and joking, Chuuya could detect a light undertone of something darker. Like if he answered wrong someone was definitely going to pay. Dazai could be really terrifying if he wanted to.

“How could I be cheating on you if we’re not dating in the first place?” Chuuya teased.


Fuck, did Chuuya say something wrong? Was that not what Dazai wanted to hear? Was being playful not okay?

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya called after nearly a minute of not hearing a response, “I’m just joking. I went for a run and came back. I’m trying to look for something to eat.”

That technically wasn’t a lie. Chuuya did go workout. He just wasn’t looking for food as actively as he should. Chuuya was far too focused on Dazai’s voice, hoping he didn’t fuck up.

Dazai chuckled, deep and low, sending shivers down Chuuya’s spine. God damn.

“You shouldn’t say that stuff to a man overseas. You know distance is the number one reason for someone to cheat.”

Chuuya huffed. “Well, yeah, no shit.”

Chuuya heard Dazai start to say something but couldn’t decipher what Dazai said over the screaming in the background. What Chuuya did hear was Dazai’s very airy and very fake laugh.

“It seems that my time with you is going to have to be cut short, Kunikida-kun found me,” Dazai explained.

“What do you mean ‘found you?’” Chuuya asked.

Dazai completely ignored Chuuya. “I’ll text you later. Have a good lunch. I hope you think about me when you shower~”

Chuuya didn’t even have time to process whatever the fuck that comment was supposed to imply before Dazai hung up. He scrunched up his eyebrows and nose in disgust. Dazai was seriously beyond baffling.



Within the first week of Dazai being gone, Chuuya had a lot to do. He had one more magazine article to interview for, two photoshoots, and he unofficially wanted to get in touch with Black Lizard.

The more official business exchanges went really well. Chuuya really enjoyed talking to magazines, TV shows, and reporters. Their questions were always interesting, and Chuuya always had a lot on his mind. It worked out pretty well.

And Chuuya also really loved photoshoots. Call him vain, but it was incredibly fun to dress up, more so than usual, and own the camera like it was his own.

As for texting Black Lizard, well, he was getting there. Finally, on Thursday, Chuuya decided to say ‘fuck it’ and send a hello text. All of their inevitable teasing be damned. He knew it was going to happen regardless of what he said. Might as well just get it over with and straight to the point.

Not even an hour later Chuuya was bombarded with texts in their group chat.


[Me]: Hey

[Me]: So like does anyone know how to play the saxophone or violin or trumpet or cello


[Tachihara]: chuuya wtf

[Tachihara]: you don’t speak to us for like three months and this is the first thing you say?


[Higuchi]: ^


[Tachihara]: ALSO way to tell us that you’re dating Osamu FUCKING Dazai


[Higuchi]: ^^


[Gin]: ^^^


[Me]: Oops

[Me]: I thought I did?


[Gin]: you definitely did not, and you know you did not. please don’t lie.


[Higuchi]: Roasted


[Me]: I hate all of you


[Higuchi]: To your question though I can play the cello


[Gin]: I can’t play any of the other instruments, but I can help compose if that’s what you’re asking.


[Tachihara]: wait a second I don’t want to let chuuya off the hook

[Tachihara]: he literally ghosted us


[Gin]: please grow up. we all know you’re just nursing a heartbreak. chuuya has no obligation to tell us anything.


[Me]: Wait what?

[Me]: Tachihara you like Dazai?


[Tachihara]: chuuya I also can’t play any of the other instruments but I can help


[Me]: Ooookay thanks

[Me]: Would you guys like to meet up like next week?

[Me]: I have some jazzy song ideas I really want to fuck around with



The first week Dazai was away, Chuuya threw himself into his work. He developed a completely new daily routine. Get up, go for a run, shower, eat, and then work on his music until he was hungry again. Sometimes those nights ended at eight at night or two in the morning. It really depended on if Chuuya’s inspiration overpowered his hunger.

Surprisingly enough, Dazai was really patient with Chuuya’s work schedule. Not that he really had a choice. Technically Dazai was done with his end of the songwriting process. He just needed to approve all the other instrumental pieces Chuuya wrote. When those were sent for review was all dependent on Chuuya.

The only other time Chuuya talked to Dazai during the first week of filming was a brief Skype call on Saturday. It was really late too. Dazai was still getting adjusted to the jetlag and woke up at two in the afternoon in Osaka, making it ten at night for Chuuya.

But they made it work.

Chuuya set up his laptop on top of the piano, glass of water off to the side, and his compositions to the other side. He began to fidget nervously while waiting for Dazai. Because of their lack of communication, Chuuya was even more stressed to see Dazai.

Did he look alright? He was getting pretty tired, but he showered earlier today and spent extra time making sure his hair looked good. Hopefully some of the bounce in his curls was still visible.

Chuuya didn’t even know why he cared so much. This was just Dazai. There was no reason to be judged based off how he looked because Dazai literally looked like a drugstore vomited all over him.

But even when Chuuya contemplated the idea of strolling in to their Skype call wearing a sweatshirt, he visibly cringed. He kept telling himself that it was because this call was a technically a business meeting. Nothing else.

Chuuya heard the musical notification from Skype signaling that he had a call. Shaking himself out of his insecurities, Chuuya pressed accept. After a few seconds of buffering was met with a smiling Dazai.

“Chuuya,” he exclaimed.

“Hi, Dazai,” Chuuya said, with a small smile of his own.

Dazai looked incredibly soft. He was sitting cross legged on his hotel bed, sleek brown bedframe behind him. Dazai’s hair looked slightly damp, most likely the result from coming out of a shower. His clothes were also too large, his gray t-shirt swooping low on his chest and hanging slightly off his left shoulder.

The most shocking part of the image in front of him, was that Chuuya saw a lot of bare skin. No bandages, no long sleeves, but pasty pale skin expanding from beneath his shirt, up his neck, and down his arms. It was a nice sight.

Chuuya couldn’t quite see Dazai’s features as crisp as he would’ve liked, but that was probably for the best. He wouldn’t dare admit that he actually missed the lanky asshole in front of him.

“What do you have for me, mon petite rockstar?”

“I have some guitar and bass bits for you,” Chuuya replied, already shifting to the side to pull one of his acoustic guitars onto his lap.

Dazai leaned forward, shifting his ear closer to the microphone and closed his eyes. “Ready when you are.”

Chuuya began to play the guitar and sing along. Occasionally, Dazai would stop Chuuya mid-word and mid-chord and tell him it was all wrong. During those times, Dazai would hum for Chuuya what he had in mind and Chuuya would try and interpret it onto the guitar until Dazai nodded in approval.

For the most part, though, Dazai was thoroughly impressed.

Going through both the guitar and bass parts only took an hour. It was still rough, but Chuuya could edit those and send audio recordings to Dazai later. He at least had a direction of where to go. It was seriously so nice to be able to have an acapella version of their song handy.

“So,” Chuuya said, not wanting to hang up just yet, “How was your week?”

Dazai tapped his chin. “Boring. I feel like Shuuji is almost too easy to play.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just seems so similar to who I am in my personal life, that to play him isn’t quite a challenge,” Dazai explained.

Chuuya moved over to the opposite end of the studio to place his guitar back in its appropriate place.

“Maybe you could write down Shuuji’s thoughts?” He shouted, adjusting his guitar appropriately, “That way you can develop him far deeper than the movie needs. If he’s so similar to you, then you can really dig deep inside yourself and add a level of depth only you can.”

Dazai stared at Chuuya as Chuuya made his way back over to the piano bench.

“What?” Chuuya asked, genuinely caught off guard by how wide Dazai’s eyes were.

“Nothing,” Dazai mumbled, chuckling to himself, “I just didn’t know Chuuya could be so smart.”

“Oi!” Chuuya screamed.



It was really refreshing to see Black Lizard later the next week. Chuuya hadn’t realized how much he missed their company ever since his time was spent mostly with Dazai. Actually, Chuuya hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed their company in general.

When Chuuya told Dazai that he composed all the music for his songs, that wasn’t a lie. The only reason Chuuya had a band was because he literally could not perform without other people playing instruments. He couldn’t do it all. Although sometimes he wish he could.

It’s not that Chuuya didn’t trust others. He did. More so than he probably should, if his relationship with Dazai was any evidence to that. But, when it came to his music and his sound, Chuuya would much rather have everything be within his control.

The four musicians talked about Chuuya’s ideas. Higuchi and Tachihara were very vocal about how excited they were over the new sound. Even Gin had a small smile on her face and nodded in approval.

That was definitely one of Chuuya’s favorite feelings. Being able to experiment with different styles of music and have it received so positively. It was like a part of his soul was being judged.

If people didn’t like what he wrote, Chuuya was crushed. That might be the reason why Dazai is on the top of the list for people Chuuya cannot stand to be around. Well, that and other reasons Chuuya really doesn’t want to think about.

Black Lizard decided to meet with Chuuya every other week until Chuuya felt confident about how to play to the strengths of instruments he didn’t know. For this album, Chuuya promised to keep them more in the loop during the brainstorming process.

It wasn’t as involved as they were probably expecting. But, hey, baby steps.

During their second meeting, as they were packing up, Dazai was inevitably brought up. Surprisingly though, it was Gin who spoke.

“Has Dazai ever mentioned my brother?” she asked.

Chuuya stared wearingly at Gin, caught off guard. “Uh, who’s your brother?”

“Ryuunosuke Akutagawa,” Gin replied.

“Wait,” Higuchi exclaimed, “That’s your brother?!”

Everyone stared dumbfounded at Gin.

“Yes,” she replied coolly.

“Hold on a second,” Tachihara said, shaking his head, “Why didn’t you ever tell us that?”

“We have the same last name, I thought it could be assumed,” Gin responded, shrugging her shoulders in a minuscule manner.

Chuuya just barked out a laugh. “Gin, you are one of the coolest people I have ever met.”

Gin didn’t reply, it’s like the words didn’t even affect her. She just stared at Chuuya, waiting for the answer to her original question.

“Oh, right,” Chuuya stuttered. “He has mentioned Ryuunosuke. I think Dazai likes him but doesn’t want Ryuunosuke to know. Why the fuck he’s acting like that, I can’t tell you. Maybe tough love? Either way, I think he has high hopes for your brother.”

Gin nodded. “Thank you.”

After Black Lizard left, Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the exchange with Gin. The connections between him and Dazai were just getting stranger and more interconnected. It was bizarre.



The time difference between L.A. and Osaka, where Dazai was currently filming, was a pain in the ass. Sixteen hours was so extreme of a time difference that Chuuya and Dazai barely had any time to talk.

The first week Dazai arrived he was essentially silent. Apart from the one Skype call, they rarely spoke. Which was frustrating because Chuuya really did have questions and corrections he needed for their song.

More recently, Mori and Fukazawa were hounding Chuuya and Dazai for this song. With Dazai’s life completely dedicated to filming for the next two months, it would be hard to not fall behind with the progress. Dazai was pretty confident that everything would follow his proposed timeline, but Chuuya wasn’t so sure.

There was one benefit, however. Since Chuuya didn’t really talk to Dazai and because he was so consumed to work to make sure everything would be finished everything on time, that left him no time to miss Dazai, or even think about the bastard.

The only reminder Chuuya had of Dazai were those damn red camellias. Infuriatingly enough, they really were beautiful. It hurt Chuuya so much more than he was willing to admit. No one had ever bought him flowers before. They served as a constant reminder that maybe Dazai really did care.

Too bad they only lasted about a week and a half. Chuuya diligently took care of them too, changing the water and even cutting the stems diagonally to allow for more water. But some things were inevitable.

More accurately, however, was that all but one of the camellias died. Throughout the weeks Chuuya thought it was weird that as the red petals began to turn more muted, one flower in the center never lost its color. Now, as Chuuya was throwing out the dead flowers, did he realize that that one flower was fake.

The petals felt more like fabric and the stem was softer to the touch. It was almost uncanny how similar it looked to the real flowers.

Chuuya decided to keep the fake flower. But not before taking a picture to remember. Chuuya tucked the fake camellia behind his ear, and let his red curls frame his face. He angled the camera, so it was a somewhat side profile, flower very prominently in view. Smiling softly, Chuuya took multiple pictures.

Moving over to the Twitter app, Chuuya posted a collection of the flowers in their original vase, which he took right after he got home from their “date,” and the selfie. Chuuya hummed as he hit post. Hopefully Dazai would appreciate that when he woke up.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 4h

Before @nolongerhuman left he gave me a bouquet of flowers so I wouldn’t “forget him” I thought that was dumb since they were all going to die but today I just found out one of them was fake

[image.jpg] [image.jpg]


           osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 43m

           @taintedsorrow ne chuuya!! i miss you and your slow little brain so much!!! ლ(╹ε╹ლ)


james •ᴥ• @fordazai – 4h

so I just looked up what red camellias mean and apparently it’s ‘love, passion and deep desire’ so like I wanna die real bad


my moon and stars @hellochuuya – 4h

at first I didn’t love the idea of chuuya and dazai together but the more dazai does for chuuya the more I support them


sweet dazai @fuckyeahdazai – 4h

god damn i need to get me a man like dazai that shit is just too mf sweet




The first thing Dazai asked Chuuya about on Skype that Friday were the camellias.

“So,” Dazai purred, “It took you eleven days to figure out one flower was fake.”

Chuuya huffed at the screen in front of him, crossing his arms and pouting. “It’s not my fault I did such a good job taking care of them.”

Dazai chuckled. “I suppose. But still, it must have felt different than the others.”

“I don’t go around touching the petals, Dazai.”

“What about the fact that there were thirteen flowers instead of the usual twelve?”

“I thought that was just you being weird, as usual.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai whined.

Chuuya laughed at Dazai’s pain. But still, he decided to be nice. Just this once.

“Calm down,” Chuuya said, “They were very beautiful. Thank you.”

Dazai’s pouting faced turned to one of euphoria. At least, that’s what Chuuya thought Dazai’s facial expression looked like. He hated only being able to see Dazai through a low quality video screen, where Dazai’s face was mostly comprised of pixels.

“How was filming this week?” Chuuya asked, shifting topics.

Dazai hummed, lost in thought. “It was good. A bit tedious at times. Fitzgerald finally let me watch the feedback of scenes we would just finish recording, so when we would reshoot I could make everything perfect myself.”

“It sounds like you’re really enjoying yourself.”

“I am.” Dazai gasped, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, one second.”

Dazai held up one finger to signal to wait and then ducked out of the laptop camera’s view.

“I took your advice on trying to connect with Shuuji,” Dazai said from beneath the laptop. Chuuya couldn’t quite out make what Dazai was saying because of the obstruction.

There was a lot of rustling and muffled words after that.

“Uh, Dazai?” Chuuya called after a minute of nothing.

Dazai popped his head back up from behind the desk and smiled wide at Chuuya.

“Found it,” he exclaimed, waving a small leather-bound notebook in front of the camera.

“What is ‘it’ exactly?”

“I decided to start journaling as if I were Shuuji. That way right before I film a specific scene, I can flip to how I think Shuuji would react and get in the mindset. I also add new anecdotes whenever I learn something new about Shuuji.”

Chuuya stared at Dazai. He was thoroughly impressed. Chuuya knew Dazai cared about music, but it felt like he cared way more about acting. More might be the wrong word. Different was probably more accurate.

When Chuuya was working with Dazai on songs, Dazai seemed to rely strictly on his genius. He never had to push himself, never felt any sense of doubt, and certainly his face never lit up this much.

There wasn’t a doubt in Chuuya’s mind that Dazai loved singing and songwriting. But he probably loved it because it was soothing. Because his hands could run over a piano’s keys and it could sound like liquid gold. Or because the lyrics he could come up with in a shorthand’s notice were always painfully beautiful.

With acting, it seemed like Dazai was still sure of himself, but less so. Like he wanted to put in so much time and effort simply because he could and because he was going to be the best there was.

It really was beautiful to see.

Seeing Dazai challenge himself and believe in what he wanted to.

Chuuya was really in too fucking deep. He never wanted to see Dazai with anything less than this level of enthusiasm for his life and his work.

“How is the journaling going then?”

“Really well, I’m actually keeping up with it.” Dazai then leaned into the camera and mock whispered, “Kunikida-kun is scared because he has never seen me act like this. It’s quite funny to rile him up.”

Chuuya snorted. “For fucks sake,” he sighed, “Can’t you just give that man a break?”


Chuuya laughed along with Dazai and leaned forward so he was resting on his palm, blinking up at Dazai through tired eyes. Dazai went off on a tangent about what he was filling the book with, flipping through pages and showing Chuuya pictures and words he had written.

Chuuya really was happy for Dazai.

“You know,” Dazai said a couple hours and eight different conversations later, “Chuuya should come visit me in Japan.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya exclaimed, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” Dazai replied with a smile, “When was the last time you were back in Japan? Plus, it would look like you’re visiting me because you miss me.”

Chuuya thought about that for a second. “I think the last time I was in Japan was when I lived there at eighteen. Once I moved to L.A. I’ve just kinda stayed here.”

“That’s exactly why you should come,” Dazai said, waving his hands in the air.

“I’m going to have to pass on that, Dazai,” Chuuya replied, rolling his eyes fondly. “One of us has to finish this song. And, besides, you would be busy.”

“I’d make time for you.”

Chuuya felt his heart skip a beat.


Dazai shrugged, as if it didn’t mean the world to Chuuya.

“Sure,” he said, “If the paparazzi are there too, it’s a win-win.”

Chuuya deflated. Of course, Dazai didn’t want to see him without making a public affair. This was all for everyone else, after all.

Fuck, he didn’t realize how much that hurt his heart. Chuuya swallowed the lump in his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I don’t know, it sounds like a hassle. Especially if it’s going to set us back with our song. Kouyou and More are already going to wring my neck if this takes any longer.”

Dazai sighed dejectedly. “Chuuya is no fun.”

“One of has to be the adult here.”

“Still no fun~”

“I’ll show you fun, dammit!”

“Lame~ What a weak comeback. Surely you could do better than that?” Dazai teased.

Chuuya smirked and licked his lips. Even through the shitty camera quality, he could see Dazai’s eyes dart to his tongue and watch in silence.

“I can assure you, I’m very, very fun,” Chuuya said, low and tantalizing, with an added wink.

Chuuya saw Dazai visibly swallow.

“Oh, yeah?”

Chuuya chuckled throatily and once again leaned forward in his seat. He nuzzled his head on his hands, so when he looked up at Dazai he was blinking through his long eyelashes. Sitting on the kitchen counter was an added bonus, making the difference in height very prominent.

“Uh huh,” he said, voice clipped and enunciating every syllable.

Dazai opened his mouth but no noise came out.

Luckily for both of them, Dazai’s phone began to ring. Dazai visibly jumped in his seat, completely taken aback by the distraction.

“Sorry,” Dazai growled, clearly pissed, as he glared at his phone.

Dazai stood up from his chair, snatched his phone from the hotel’s desk, and pressed hard on the answer call button. Chuuya couldn’t hear any of the conversation besides a snarled, “What,” from Dazai as he moved away from the microphone.

Chuuya smiled to himself and closed his eyes. It was getting incredibly late on his end, nearing three in the morning. Perhaps if he rested his eyes during Dazai’s phone call, when he would return Chuuya would feel rejuvenated, so they could keep talking.




Apparently not.

Chuuya woke up the next morning with a crick in his back and neck, and a numbness in both of his arms. He groaned, completely disoriented as to why he wasn’t in his bed.

Chuuya blindly grabbed for his phone next to his head and full on cringed when he saw the time. One in the afternoon?! Fuck, he essentially lost the whole day.

With incredibly sore muscles, Chuuya forced himself into a sitting position and scrolled through some of his notifications to try and wake himself up. Of the notifications was one from Dazai via Twitter. Chuuya clicked on it.

Once he saw the picture, Chuuya felt his entire face heat up out of embarrassment. It was a picture of himself, fast asleep while resting on his arms. His face was tilted slightly to the side, lips parted, and face muscles relaxed. He looked incredibly peaceful.

What caught Chuuya’s attention the most wasn’t the caption, or the hundreds of subtweets below, or even how long they Skyped, but it was Dazai’s face in the corner of the screen. Dazai was smiling fondly, face half covered by his phone, but sweet smile evident nonetheless.

Chuuya’s heart ached. This was such a private moment between the two of them. They didn’t even do any work last night because Dazai didn’t want to push Chuuya with a deadline, and Chuuya didn’t want Dazai to have too much additional work on top of acting.

Chuuya really, really, needed to figure out what he was feeling. For his own sanity.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 10h

look at how adorable chuuya is~

who’s the sleeping beauty now? ♥‿♥


Chapter Text

This was a really bad idea.

Chuuya really should not have come here. What was he thinking? Yeah, Dazai suggested coming to Japan, but that was probably a joke. And not telling Dazai? Not giving him any sort of warning? This was impulsive. A pure stupid impulse that was definitely going to backfire.

And yet, Chuuya loved it. Even though he was drumming his fingers against his thighs in anticipation, heart thumping against his ribcage at what felt like a million beats per minute, and sweat collecting on palms, Chuuya had a bright smile on his face.

There was something about knowing that he was going to surprise Dazai, that he was going to see Dazai past a computer screen, that he was going to be able to hold Dazai, that kept Chuuya’s mind buzzing with positive thoughts.

The hotel room Dazai was staying in was really nice too. An added bonus. Currently, Chuuya was sitting on Dazai’s bed within his hotel room. Chuuya slid his shoes off before stepping past the threshold, so his socked feet were hanging off the edge of the bed, not quite grazing the floor.

The walls were paneled with a light-colored wood, bed frame a dark wood contrasting the subtle color. The bedding underneath Chuuya was dark red, as opposed to the usual whites and cream colors Chuuya was used to hotels adorning. The Guild must really be going all out to allow Dazai to stay in this nice of a place during filming.

Chuuya kept checking his phone anxiously. The only person he had contacted about his trip was Kunikida. Kunikida had kindly informed Chuuya that Dazai was scheduled to finish filming at four today. Knowing Dazai, he would be out of makeup and costuming and back home around five.

It was a little past five and every creak or squeak Chuuya heard sent him into a fit of nerves. Where the fuck was Dazai? Didn’t he know how fucking anxious Chuuya was? Well, he didn’t, but that was the point.

Finally, Chuuya heard the click of the front door and saw the usual mop of brown hair duck inside. On impulse, Chuuya stood up, not knowing what else to do with his body when he ached to just run to the main in front of him.

Dazai’s eyes caught the sight of an unusual pair of shoes by the front door and snapped his head up. Brown eyes met blue.

Dazai’s mouth fell open, no words or sounds escaping.

Chuuya smirked and tossed Dazai a small wave. “Yo,” he said lamely.

“Hey,” Dazai responded breathless, smile already forming as he made his way over to Chuuya. He didn’t even bother to toe off his shoes.

Once Dazai was a few feet away from Chuuya, he stopped. It looked like Dazai’s arms were itching by his side to reach out and hold Chuuya. Chuuya desperately wanted to reach forward and be in those arms, but he didn’t want to push Dazai, just in case he was reading the whole situation wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Dazai asked, confused, as if this wasn’t his idea.

Chuuya shrugged. “I wanted to see you,” he replied honestly.

“So Chuuya did miss me,” Dazai teased.

“And what if I did?” Chuuya taunted, raising his eyebrow.

Dazai chuckled and took one more step forward. He snaked his arms around Chuuya’s waist and pulled the smaller man close to his body. Chuuya reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Dazai’s neck.

“I’m so happy Chuuya is here,” Dazai said, leaning down so his lips were hovering over Chuuya’s, “I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I’ve wanted you ever since I left.”

Dazai squeezed Chuuya tight and smirked. Chuuya felt all the blood within his body run immediately south. He swallowed. He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to hold himself back. Everything he wanted was right in front of him.

“Shh,” Chuuya murmured, ghosting his lips over Dazai’s, “You talk too much.”

This time Chuuya leaned forward and took Dazai’s lips between his own.

It didn’t last very long.

Mostly because Chuuya woke up in a cold sweat the moment his tongue parted past Dazai’s lips and was met with the new sensation of Dazai’s mouth.

The first thing Chuuya registered was that he was panting hard, his heart was racing just as fast as it was in the dream, and he felt wide awake. He blindly groped both side of him to check that this was indeed still his bed, and that everything that just happened was a fabrication.

Once having that confirmed, Chuuya rolled over and did what any sensible human would do when they dreamed about kissing someone they definitely should not kiss. He screamed into his pillow.

There was no way in hell Chuuya was going to be able to fall asleep again. Especially not if there was a chance, even a slim one, that he could have another dream about kissing Dazai. That was dangerous.

Using his forearms, Chuuya sat up in his bed and tried to regulate his breathing. Chuuya touched his lips and felt that they were still tingling from the dream-kiss.

He was so fucking fucked. There was so much wrong with the dream Chuuya woke up from. First off, he would never, ever, fucking listen to Dazai and visit him. Second, he would never initiate a kiss with Dazai, that was Dazai’s job. Third, there was no way Chuuya wanted to kiss that bastard for real.


For the past few weeks, Chuuya has been insistently pushing down his feelings and trying to ignore them. He didn’t want to admit that he was falling for Dazai and his shitty, dorky, personality. But this dream smacked him like a ton of bricks.

He was falling for Dazai.

Chuuya groaned aloud once again.

Well, there was no point in denying it anymore. His goddamn fucking subconscious was betraying him by showing Chuuya physical proof that he liked Dazai.

Chuuya forced himself up out of bed and practically sprinted into his studio. If he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, he might as well work on his music. The good thing was that Chuuya was emotionally charged, on edge, and feeling everything far more heightened than usual.

Chuuya ran his fingers over the strings of his bass, closed his eyes, and let the music he played sooth his soul. Hopefully that worked, and he would be able to fall asleep that afternoon. Damn his sleeping schedule.




Honestly, Chuuya was impressed with himself at the amount of work he was able to get done. Within the span of a few hazed hours, he was able to edit the guitar and base compositions, as well as find the rhythm for a drumline.

It was completely therapeutic. Whenever Chuuya got into frenzies like that, it was really hard for him to want to leave anything unfinished. It wasn’t a genius quality per-say, nothing quite like Dazai, but it was his own unique work ethic.

The best part was that Chuuya actually used his frustration over Dazai to his advantage. Since the song was about lovers, Chuuya channeled the range of emotions he felt towards Dazai during the highs and lows of the song. Whenever the song reached a dramatic and emotional peak, Chuuya arranged the music in such a way which he thought his heart most identified with.

Most everything that Chuuya did came from the heart. Chuuya was driven by emotions, so much so that it sometimes clouded his judgement on what was the right decision. But not with music.

With music, Chuuya let his emotions run free. He was a bystander to what he was feeling, trying to translate and interpret what was swirling throughout his brain and heart to the notes. His music represented him.

As Chuuya looked over the final sheet music arrangements, he hummed in satisfaction. Chuuya moved from his studio to his bedroom, grabbed his phone, and walked back. He moved to the camera app and snapped pictures of what he just finished. Then, he moved over to his e-mail and sent the music for Dazai to review.

After that feat, Chuuya finally felt the exhaustion of last night crash over him like a wave. Well, at least he knew he was so tired that when he fell asleep, he wouldn’t dream. Chuuya trudged back to his bedroom, placed his phone on the bedside table, and crawled under the covers.

Not even five minutes later, as Chuuya was starting to drift off, he heard the harsh vibrations of his phone against the wood table. Chuuya groaned. He blindly reached over and pulled his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” He asked, voice hoarse from singing and drained from exhaustion.

“Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed.

“What the fuck,” Chuuya breathed out, eyes snapping open wide. All he could think about was Dazai in his dream. Dazai’s hands around him. Dazai’s lips on his. Dazai, Dazai, Dazai.

Chuuya swallowed hard, trying to will those invasive and dangerous thoughts away. He really didn’t want to fuck up with Dazai, regardless of if he really wanted to fuck Dazai.

“Correct,” Dazai replied with a laugh. “Why did you send me an e-mail at five in the morning your time?”

Chuuya blinked. “Is that what time it is?”

Dazai burst out laughing. “My, my, Chuuya,” he said in between laughs, “You really are dumb.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya screamed. If he wasn’t awake before he sure as hell was now.

Dazai huffed out a breath of air.

“Were you working?” Dazai asked, his tone much more serious than before.

“Yeah,” Chuuya replied.

“That early in the morning?” Dazai inquired.


“On your own volition?”



Well, Chuuya wasn’t going to actually tell Dazai the reason. For one, that would mean he would have to talk about his feelings and emotions with Dazai. That was out of the question. And if Chuuya did want to have that talk, which was a huge if, there was no way he was going to have it over the phone.

“I don’t know,” Chuuya lied, “Rush of inspiration, I guess? I woke up in the middle of the night and had a drumline stuck in my head, so I worked on everything.”

Dazai hummed in acknowledgment. “Chuuya really is a workaholic.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Honestly, Dazai, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Oh,” Dazai said quieter.

They didn’t speak for a couple minutes, but Chuuya could hear Dazai’s breathing over the phone. It was nice. Calming. Kept him grounded to his surroundings. Chuuya completely forgot the reasons why he was so awake.

Chuuya’s eyes drooped shut as he listened to Dazai. It really was a moment only meant for the two of them.

After a few minutes Dazai asked, “You still with me?”

Chuuya half processed what Dazai said. He grunted, assuming that was a safe response.

Dazai chuckled, soft and throaty. “I hope you dream of me,” Dazai mumbled.

The line went quiet again, filled only with the sounds of Chuuya and Dazai in their own little world.

Oh, Chuuya thought, you have no fucking idea.



Chuuya had a countdown at this point.

Two weeks until Dazai came home. Eleven and a half days to be exact. Chuuya’s not exactly sure at when exactly Dazai is coming home, but it’s probably going to be at the most inconvenient time for Chuuya. Because Dazai seems to know exactly how to piss him off. Fucking asshole.

Which is why it was probably a bad idea for Chuuya to want to hold a surprise one night only concert, for him and Black Lizard to play some songs they typically don’t in concert. Dazai was most likely going to show up that day and ruin it.

Ever since Chuuya had that dream about Dazai three nights ago, it’s been the only thing on his mind. He’s had a lot of time to self-reflect. The conclusion he came to wasn’t great. But, honestly, no matter what Chuuya decided his feelings meant, he was going to be pissed at himself.

Chuuya has also had a lot of time to write. Since he was done with his collaboration song with Dazai for the time being, he allowed himself to get consumed by the back and forth of his emotions.

Of his hatred for Dazai which raged like a fire. Of the serenity when he was with Dazai, which washed over him like water. Of the ups and downs, hills and valleys, confusion and security. Chuuya poured it all into new songs that he wanted to experiment with.

For the past three days, Chuuya practically lived in his studio. The only time he registered that days had passed was when he received phone calls from Kouyou, or texts from Dazai and Black Lizard.

He nearly forgot that Black Lizard was going to meet with him until he received a call from Higuchi, informing him that they were outside his apartment, knocking and waiting for nearly three minutes.

Chuuya rushed to his entrance and ushered his friends in. It was only then that Chuuya registered he probably hadn’t showered in three days. Well. Nothing he could do now.

He led them back to his studio and passed off some of the lyrics, verses, and chords he was working on. They all seemed to approve. Even Tachihara started to strum on a guitar, getting the feel for one of the more somber tones Chuuya wrote about.

It was peaceful. Chuuya sunk deep into the piano bench, playing some random notes that resonated with him. And then it struck Chuuya. It was too peaceful.

He was bored.

Chuuya’s fingers tensed up on the piano and he didn’t dare continue playing.

“Chuuya?” Tachihara asked, confused by why Chuuya stopped playing mid-tune, “You alright?”

“We should hold a concert,” Chuuya declared, completely ignoring Tachihara’s question.

No one said anything. Chuuya spun around in his seat so he could look directly at Gin, Tachihara, and Higuchi. He wanted to make sure that they heard him properly.

“What do you mean?” Higuchi asked.

“I mean exactly what I said,” Chuuya snapped, tension over the past couple days hitting him, “We should hold a one night concert here in L.A. We should tell everyone like one day in advance and play whatever the fuck we want.”

Higuchi stared at him, mouth slight ajar. “You’re serious,” she finally deadpanned.

“You bet.”


“Next week. The sooner the better.”

Higuchi worried her thumb between her teeth, lost in thought.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m in,” Tachihara exclaimed.

“I am as well,” Gin said.

“I think we can make this work,” Higuchi finally said, “I’ll have to make a lot of calls, but I’m pretty confident we can get a small venue.”

Chuuya’s eyes lit up. In fact, he felt his entire body jolt alive at the thought of once again standing in front of a crowd.

Fuck yes. This was really happening. Nothing calmed Chuuya’s nerves more than doing something he absolutely loved with a moment’s notice. That way he was depending strictly on his impulses and talent.

True to Higuchi’s word, it took a couple days to get everything confirmed. Higuchi didn’t give herself nearly enough credit. She got them booked at a decent sized venue and got them to agree on ticket prices only worth five dollars. Only catch was it’s first come first serve. Chuuya didn’t know how she did it.

Now all they had to do was pick a setlist, rehearse, and put on a damn good show. Chuuya was practically buzzing with energy for the rest of the week.




Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3d

SURPRISE! For one day only me and Black Lizard are going to be singing some of our favorite songs! Come join us!!




Dazai insisted on Skyping with Chuuya the night before Chuuya’s concert.

Chuuya wasn’t exactly sure why, since it seemed like a pretty inconvenient time for Dazai, but he didn’t object. He hadn’t heard Dazai’s voice in quite a while.

The first thing Chuuya noticed once Dazai’s face came through clearly on Skype’s video feed, was that the walls of his hotel were indeed wood paneled, and the bed behind him had a dark red comforter.

Chuuya swallowed hard. Exactly like his dream.

It practically gave Chuuya whiplash, how quickly the memories flooded back to him. He could still kind of feel the tingle of Dazai’s lips on his if he really thought about it. He really shouldn’t be thinking about it.

The nice thing about planning an impromptu concert was that every waking minute Chuuya spent with his band. Planning, replanning, rehearsing, re-rehearsing, checking out the venue. Making sure everything was absolutely perfect. As a result, he didn't have a ton of time to think about his feelings for Dazai.

But now, everything was coming back.

“Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed.

“Hello, Dazai,” Chuuya replied.

The second thing Chuuya noticed was that Dazai looked... off. He didn’t want to necessarily he looked good or bad, but just that something about his physical appearance had changed in the week and a half since their last Skype call.

Once it dawned on Chuuya, he didn’t even bother to censor himself, blurting out, “Have you been losing weight?”

Dazai stared at Chuuya, wide-eyed. Kind of like a kid when they got caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

Dazai chuckled, trying to play it off. “Is Chuuya my mom now?”

“No, idiot, I just happen to care about how you look next to me. I don’t need a fucking spaghetti string hanging off my arm.”

Dazai had always been lanky. But for him to lose this much weight for Chuuya to notice only after a week of not talking was bad.

“I guess I’ve been losing weight,” Dazai said, even though it sounded like it wasn’t a guess at all, “But it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course, it’s a big deal,” Chuuya raged, “Dammit, Dazai, this is your health.”

“Why do you care?” Dazai asked, face and eyes completely unreadable.

Chuuya’s cheeks heated up. Partially from rage and partially from being flustered. He didn’t want to actually admit that he cared about Dazai because he was worried about him. So he lied.

“I told you,” Chuuya huffed, “You’re my “boyfriend” you need to look like you’re happy with me. What are people going to say? Oh, look there’s Dazai and Chuuya, Chuuya probably starves Dazai, look how skinny he is.”

Dazai laughed. “No, people are going to think I lost it for the movie. Which is true, I did, it just wasn’t in my contract to do so. I thought Shuuji would be someone who didn’t care about eating while he lived in the mafia.”

Chuuya sighed dejectedly.

“Fine, whatever, do whatever the fuck you want. But once you get back, I’m going to make you a proper meal.”

“Yes, yes, sure, mom.”

“What the fuck did you fucking say, you fucker?!”

Dazai burst out laughing as Chuuya raged on the other side of the screen. It reminded Chuuya that he couldn’t smack Dazai silly, which ended up making him even more angry.

After Chuuya calmed down, Dazai brought up the topic of their music. He was thoroughly happy with the arrangements that Chuuya emailed him prior. There were only a few small edits to make, but Dazai wanted to try it once live before they sent it to their record labels.

The whole conversation made Chuuya’s heart soar. He had never heard Dazai say such sweet and inspiring things about his music before. Dazai even commented how painful the music sounded, somber yet hopeful.

Chuuya really fucking wished there was hope between him and Dazai.

Maybe this was a sign that Dazai liked Chuuya back.

That conversation lasted for a while, but once they wrapped up, Dazai began to talk about filming. Chuuya paused Dazai mid-rant in order to grab some black nail polish. It was one of his signatures after all, no way was he going out on stage without it. Even if Dazai was going to keep him up late.

“Are you even listening to me?” Dazai asked with a pout.

Chuuya glanced up at Dazai from his task but didn’t reply. Within the next second, Chuuya’s eyes were fixated back on his nails, stroking the small paint brush up from the base to the tip.

“Chuuya,” Dazai whined.

Chuuya laughed. He only had one nail to finish, Dazai could wait all of two minutes. After Chuuya finished coating his pinky in black nail polish, he screwed the cap back on the bottle, and gave Dazai his full attention.

“Okay, done,” Chuuya said.

Dazai stuck out his bottom lip in protest.

“Don’t do that,” Chuuya chastised, “You’re acting like a child.”

“You’re ignoring me!”

“I am not,” Chuuya pointed out, “All of my focus just wasn’t on you.”

“That’s basically ignoring me!”

“No, it’s not, you shitty bastard.”

Dazai stuck his tongue out. Chuuya chuckled.

“What do you think?” Chuuya asked, holding up his drying nails to the camera.

“Do you always do that?” Dazai asked, eyes roaming over Chuuya’s nails, “It looks surprisingly good.”

“Can’t you ever genuinely compliment me?”

Dazai tilted his head to the side, confused. “You’ve never done anything that has warranted my praise.”

“I hate you,” Chuuya huffed, curling his nails so they were facing his mouth and blew cold air on them to accelerate the drying process.

Dazai hummed in thought. It sounded like he wanted to refute that, but was smart enough to not say anything.

“So, as I was saying,” Dazai started up again, “if Fitzgerald gave me full control over this movie, it would go so much better.”

Chuuya let Dazai ramble on for as long as he wanted. He really liked when Dazai was completely unfiltered, not as calculating as usual. Sometimes Dazai would even stutter and backtrack his thoughts. It was a completely different side that no one got to see. Since Dazai would be damned if he let anyone else think he was human.

After a couple hours, Chuuya began to yawn and slip in and out of consciousness. Dazai checked the time and his lips formed a small ‘oh.’

“You should probably sleep,” Dazai said.

Chuuya nodded, half hearing Dazai’s words.

Dazai leaned his head on the palm of his hand and smiled fondly at Chuuya.

“Goodnight, mon petite rockstar. I hope you have a good concert. You better save Rain Beat for when I get back, bye,” Dazai said softly, waving his other hand as he signed off of Skype.

Chuuya didn’t even have time to say goodnight before the Skype window closed. Chuuya shot Dazai a quick message through Skype, shut his laptop, and forced himself into bed. He wrapped up in the covers and fell asleep, mind constantly shifting thoughts between Dazai and performing.



Fuck, Chuuya missed this.

The crowd cheering.

Hitting every high note and low note he wanted, damned if it was originally in the song.

The sweat dripping down his face and clinging to his clothes.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The slight soreness in his legs and arms from running up and down stage.

The full command he had of everyone in the room. If he wanted them to be quiet all he had to do was raise a finger.

The smile on his face strained his cheek bones.

But Chuuya didn’t care.

It was intoxicating.

Performing for hundreds of people always brought Chuuya an immense, unmated, and euphoric sense of fulfillment. Nothing could top how he felt like pure gold to the touch and sounded just as smooth.

Since the concert was so last minute, their set list was short, only about half the songs that Chuuya would usually perform. Which was a blessing and a curse because Chuuya didn’t think he had rehearsed enough for a two hour show, but fuck if he wanted to keep going.

Halfway through the concert, Black Lizard left the stage and helped rearrange the set so Chuuya was sitting on a stool, acoustic guitar slung around his neck. He took a seat on the stool and thanked his band for the intimate moment they allowed for him to have with the crowd.

Chuuya flashed a smirk to the audience as he was tuning his guitar slightly. Everyone screamed.

He leaned forward, close to the microphone and asked, “How is everyone enjoying the concert so far?”

Once again everyone cheered. Chuuya smiled and nodded.

“You know,” he explained, “this was a complete spur of the moment thing. I missed you all so much that I was practically itching to get back on stage. Higuchi found this venue and helped work out all the details so give her a huge round of applause.”

Chuuya loved this power. On command, everyone clapped and whooped for Higuchi. Although she wasn’t on stage, Chuuya knew that she was probably blushing and stuttering at the praise she just received.

Chuuya chuckled. Once satisfied with the way his guitar sounded, Chuuya pulled the guitar close to his small frame and strummed it once.

“I was going to play Sea of Stars,” Chuuya said, waiting for the immediate reaction of cheers he usually received, but was left completely baffled by the only mediocre response.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What the fuck?” Chuuya asked on impulse.

A few laughs, but again everyone seemed pretty silent.

“Am I missing something here?” Chuuya asked, turning to his sides to see if someone was sneaking up on him.

Finally, a ripple of a response spread throughout the small arena. It started somewhere in the middle, but within a few seconds everyone was chanting the same thing. It felt like the crowd was pulsating. Begging until Chuuya gave them what they wanted.

“Rain Beat! Rain Beat! Rain Beat! Rain Beat!”

“Rain Beat?” Chuuya repeated, caught completely off guard.

This time the crowd erupted in cheers and screams.

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows, confused. During his last tour he played Rain Beat as his halfway through acoustic song. Wasn’t that kind of boring? He had never played Sea of Stars acoustic before and was actually really looking forward to it. Why the sudden demand of a song surely everyone had heard before.

“Uh, why?” Chuuya asked. He knew it was dumb to ask an entire arena of pure chaos, but hopefully even a few words would clear up the confusion.

Thankfully, he was close enough to the edge of the stage to make out the response a few girls screamed at him. That confused Chuuya even more.

“Dazai?” Chuuya repeated, dumbstruck. “You guys want me to sing Dazai’s favorite song, acoustic?”

Another wave of screams, in what Chuuya hoped was approval.

Chuuya slumped back in his stool, a dumbstruck smile on his face. That was actually kind of a sweet idea, Chuuya playing Dazai’s favorite song because he “missed” him, or whatever.

“Alright,” he finally declared, re-tuning his guitar for the different range. “But I want all of you guys to tweet videos of this at Dazai so when he wakes up, he sees it.”

Chuuya swears he saw twice as many people whip at their phones at a lightning fast pace in order to catch the beginning of the song. Chuuya cleared his throat a little and began to strum his guitar accordingly.

Usually, when Chuuya performed acoustic songs, he paid special attention to the crowd in front of him. He loved seeing the lights on everyone’s phones brighten up the dark arena, so he could see everyone’s eyes on him. That way he could see people smiling fondly, struck with awe, and even the occasional teary-eyed stare.

But not today. Today, Chuuya’s eyes were fluttered shut as he played Rain Beat from the heart. He didn’t want to think about anybody else but Dazai.

Because while it was easy to deny his feelings during his normal daily routine, during songs it was harder. Chuuya threw everything he had into his music, all his doubts, insecurities, fears, and heartbreaks fueled his sadder songs. Rain Beat was a prime example.

Today, he was singing for Dazai. For the hope he wished that Dazai reciprocated his feelings. For the drumming of his heart against his chest, screaming to be let free, so it could find its way to Dazai. For the pain that he felt every single time he feared Dazai would reject him for real.

Chuuya’s emotions got the better of him towards the end of the song.

Oh, rain beat,” Chuuya sang, voice cracking a little, but still holding a sweet sounding yet somber note, “Can you see me? Oh, rain beat, my eyes before they fade away.

Chuuya had only one more verse to get through but it was difficult. All of the lyrics hit a little too close to home. He hoped Dazai heard him. Every part of him. This is the first time since his feelings were conflicted as a result of Dazai, that Chuuya knew what he wanted.

He really fucking hoped he doesn’t regret it.

Chuuya barely made it without tears welling up in his eyes. As he played the last few notes, a respectful clap showered through the audience.

No one was screaming. Everyone seemed to acknowledge and feel that that song meant so much more to Chuuya than they were anticipating.

Chuuya smiled nervously and tried to subtly wipe at the prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

He didn’t quite want to leave the stage yet. The next song was a really enthusiastic dance song, and Chuuya really needed to be composed and pumped up for that.

“Funny story,” Chuuya continued, “Dazai keeps asking me, and begging me, and essentially whining for me to play Rain Beat for him. But I haven’t. You guys got to see it first, so I guess you know who I care about the most.”

The cheers once again picked up in full force.

Chuuya smiled and laughed naturally. The crowd’s rejuvenated energy filled him, once again, with the desire to put on a damn good show. He smiled, stood up, and waved, before making his way backstage to do a quick costume change and finish the concert strong.




hold me tight @formychuuya – 1m

chuuya singing ‘rain beat’ acoustic in la



nancy @redhotlove – 1m

I legit have tears in my eyes that song was so beautiful who the FUCK hurt chuuya


CHUUYA’S CONCERT COUNTDOWN: 0 DAYS @happynakahara – 1m

i’m legit going to kms. i can ascend now hearing chuuya sing this perfectly.


double back is real and alive @ddoublebblack - 1m

hey @nolongerhuman you seeing this shit?




Chuuya barely made it backstage before his bandmates started to harass him. Tachihara, Gin, and Higuchi were standing behind the curtains, costumes already changed, staring at Chuuya wide-eyed. Higuchi looked like she even had tears running down her face.

Chuuya glared at them, and blinked, confused.

“What?” he asked.

Higuchi and Gin eyed each other wearingly. Tachihara scratched his head awkwardly.

Chuuya huffed out a breath, pissed that he wasn’t getting an answer, and pushed passed his bandmates. He still had to get changed and put down his guitar.

“Chuuya,” Gin called out.

All of a sudden, the three were walking beside Chuuya.

“Can I help you?” Chuuya snarled. He placed his guitar down and began to take his shirt off. It’s not like they hadn’t seen Chuuya naked before.

“That was really beautiful,” Gin replied, not acknowledging the harsh tone Chuuya threw at her.

Chuuya froze halfway taking his shirt off. He continued to strip the fabric off his body, far slower than before, and held the shirt in his hands. Chuuya glanced out of the corner out of his eye and saw Gin staring blankly back at him.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, not quite sure how to respond to the unsolicited positive comment.

“Seriously Chuuya,” Higuchi piped up, “That was the best version of Rain Beat I have ever seen.”

Chuuya felt his entire body heat up at the second compliment. Not knowing how to react, Chuuya nodded his head and grabbed the new shirt off of the rack in front of him. He began to button it up.

“You also seem a lot happier performing,” Tachihara rambled, “Not that you weren’t happier before. But it feels like you’re singing for one person, so it sounds more personal, I guess? Uh what I meant was-”

“Wait,” Chuuya interrupted, turning around so he was facing the three, “Are you guys trying to imply that I’m singing for Dazai?”

Gin, Tachihara, and Higuchi shared a look.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gin asked.

“I’m so happy for you, Chuuya!” Higuchi exclaimed, “You finally found your muse.”

This time, Tachihara didn’t say anything, only nodded.

Chuuya felt his jaw drop. He could not believe what he was hearing. Yeah, he supposed he sang Rain Beat for Dazai, but not the rest of his songs. Was his subconscious seriously fucking with him again?

“Well, thanks, I guess?” Chuuya said, even though it sounded like a question.

Chuuya then cleared his throat, once again pushing past his bandmates, walking back to the stage. They had another thirty minutes of performing, after all. Chuuya glanced back and waved them forward.

“Come on, then. We still have a fucking job to do.”



A couple of days later, Chuuya woke up to a voicemail from Dazai. He hadn’t had the time to talk to Dazai ever since his impromptu concert. Dazai was finishing up filming in Japan over the past few days. From what Chuuya understood, every second felt like crunch time.

So Skyping Chuuya wasn’t the highest priority on Dazai’s list.

That was okay though. Dazai and Chuuya made time before Chuuya’s concert. That was such a nice break from all the insanities whirling throughout Chuuya’s life that it didn’t feel like a hassle.

Chuuya moved over the phone app and clicked on the voicemail waiting for him. He held the phone up to his ear, eyes closed, and listened to Dazai’s voice.

“Hi, Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed, “You may be wondering why I called you so late even though I know you’re asleep. Don’t worry, I’ll tell your slow, little, brain. I’m flying home soon!

We’re actually boarding now. Kunikida-kun is yelling at me to finish up, because I’m being rude, or something like that. I don’t start filming the second half for another week, so I thought we could go on another date after I’ve recovered from jetlag.

I look forward to your scowling face! Bye~”

Chuuya threw an arm over his smiling face, trying to pretend that his heart wasn’t racing at the idea of being so close to Dazai again.


He really did miss the sound of his annoying voice, the smell of his terrible shampoo, the feel of his rough scratchy bandages, and that god awful laugh.


He really did like this bastard.

How the fuck was this going to work now?!

Chapter Text

Chuuya was awake when Dazai landed. He didn’t get a phone call this time, just a text. Attached was a picture of the L.A. airport, sunset low in the sky.


[Mackerel]: [image.jpg]

[Mackerel]: i can already feel chuuya’s angry stare from here


[Me]: You do know the reason I can’t stand you is because you send me annoying shit like this right?


[Mackerel]: sorry i can’t hear you over how tired i am~


After an hour of not receiving a follow up text, Chuuya assumed that Dazai really had fallen asleep. That was actually really good. For as long as Chuuya knew Dazai, he always texted a goodnight text after Chuuya fell asleep, and a good morning text before Chuuya woke up. Chuuya wasn’t actually sure when Dazai went to bed, or if he slept at all, and was instead some kind of fucked up vampire.

Even though the circumstances weren’t amazing, since jetlag really was a bitch, sleep was still sleep. And Dazai had a couple weeks off to recover.

A few hours later, once Dazai presumably woke up from his nap, Chuuya received a string of texts.


[Mackerel]: chuuya

[Mackerel]: have you ever gone bowling?


[Me]: Uh I think so?

[Me]: Why


[Mackerel]: we should go bowling!!


Chuuya stared at his phone in bewilderment. Well, that was certainly out of the blue. Usually Dazai took Chuuya to incredibly fancy, high scale, and refined places, what was he playing at?


[Me]: Any particular reason why?


[Mackerel]: i have a feeling that i’m better than chuuya at bowling

[Mackerel]: i want to test this theory out


Chuuya gritted his teeth in determination.


[Me]: Oh you are sooo fucking on




It took about four days for Dazai to recover from jetlag, but once he was on a more normal sleeping schedule – normal being relative since Chuuya still didn’t know when Dazai slept – Dazai asked Chuuya out to bowling officially.

Wednesday was kind of random, but Chuuya didn’t mind since that meant it was going to be a little more private. Dazai also promised Chuuya whatever dinner he wanted, so Chuuya asked for burgers, hoping that Dazai would eat everything.

Deciding on something more casual, Chuuya wore ripped skinny jeans, a fitted, black and white striped t-shirt, and a leather jacket over top. Once again Chuuya decided to forgo the hat, only sticking with a choker and gloves as accessories.

When Dazai showed up fifteen minutes late (at least some things never changed) he also seemed to decide on a casual look. He was wearing black skinny jeans and one of Chuuya’s band t-shirts, very oversized. Chuuya raised his eyebrow at that.

“What?” Dazai asked, “Do I have something on my shirt?”

He frantically looked down and inspected every inch, even running his hands over the fabric.

Chuuya shook his head no. “I’m just surprised you own one of my shirts, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Dazai said, a lot softer this time, “Of course I do. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“I suppose a shitty one,” Chuuya agreed.

Dazai hummed.

Chuuya and Dazai stood there for a few seconds, not really saying anything. Having Dazai this close made Chuuya dizzy. Everything felt so real. His shirt, his goofy lopsided smirk, his smell, his lanky body. Being this close also confirmed that Dazai had indeed lost a lot of weight, even if the baggy shirt was covering most of it up.

Chuuya really just wanted to tuck himself into Dazai’s arms and never leave.

It seemed that Dazai was on a similar wavelength because he asked, “Can I hug you?”

Chuuya nodded and took half a step forward so he could wrap his arms around Dazai’s waist. Dazai followed suit, wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s upper back. Chuuya had never really acknowledged their height difference before, but being able to press his ear right where Dazai’s heart was, was a plus he never noticed until now.

Dazai rested his chin on the top of Chuuya’s chin and squeezed him tight. Chuuya smiled, knowing that Dazai couldn’t see his face, so he allowed himself to openly relish in the contact.

But, of course, Dazai had to open his big fucking mouth and ruin everything.

“Has Chuuya gotten smaller?” Dazai teased.

“Hah?!” Chuuya screamed, pushing Dazai away from him, scowl on his face.

Dazai laughed at how angry Chuuya got in such a short amount of time. His arms were still loosely hung around Chuuya’s body, but after the insult Chuuya tried to worm his way out of Dazai’s grip. In retaliation, Dazai squeezed Chuuya harder, pulling the other man closer to his body.

“Dazai!” Chuuya raged, “Let me go!”

Dazai just continued laughing, snuggling his face into Chuuya’s hair. His octopus arms were basically impossible to escape from. What the fucking fuck. It’s not like Chuuya didn’t have some level of muscle definition, dammit!

After a few minutes of wrestling, Dazai let Chuuya go. Chuuya huffed and crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai said, clearly not sorry at all.

“Tch,” Chuuya scoffed.

His hair was a wreck now. Chuuya angrily started to comb through his locks with his fingers. Damn Dazai.

Dazai stepped closer to Chuuya, arms already outstretched in an apology hug.

“If you so much as lay a finger on me right now I will smack that stupid fucking grin off your face,” Chuuya threatened.

“Oh, how scary~”

Once Chuuya was satisfied with how his hair looked, he turned back to Dazai and nodded, signaling that he was ready to go.

“Can I hold your hand?” Dazai asked, as they left Chuuya’s apartment.

“Don’t push your fucking luck,” Chuuya snarled.

“Chuuya,” Dazai whined.

He continued to whine all the way down into the car. Dazai only shut up when Chuuya had enough and snatched Dazai’s hand which was lying between them during the car ride.

They stopped for dinner first. Chuuya was a little disappointed that Dazai only ate half his burger and merely picked at the fries, but Chuuya really didn’t want to make a scene in the family restaurant Dazai decided on.

Then they went to bowling. Dazai paid for a lane, they grabbed their bowling shoes (Dazai and Chuuya joking about how awful these were going to feel), and then picked their bowling balls.

For some reason, Chuuya let Dazai enter in his name. He glanced up and saw the name ‘SLUG’ in all caps representing him. Chuuya scrunched up his nose.

“Can you stop calling me that?”


Chuuya groaned.

“Here, I’ll let Chuuya decide what he wants me to be named.”

“Slimy fucking mackerel.”

Dazai hummed and only entered the word ‘MACKEREL’ in all caps.

“I specifically asked for fucking, you fucker.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai gasped, “There are children here! How dare you use that vulgar type of language!”

“I’m going to strangle you when we get home.”

“Oho~ Is Chuuya inviting me back to his place~”

“No, dam-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Dazai tsked, cutting Chuuya off entirely, “No swearing!”

Chuuya bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from screaming. He calmed down only a little bit by the time the pins were set up, awaiting for Chuuya to start bowling.

“Chuuya,” Dazai singsonged, sitting back in one of the chairs behind the lanes, “Would you like to have a bet?”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow.

“What kind of bet?” He asked, not trusting this at all.

“If I beat you at bowling, I want to ask you whatever question I want. If you win, you can ask the same and I’ll buy you a bottle of wine.”

“Why do I get an extra prize?”

“Because I really don’t think you can beat me.”

“So then why the f-” Dazai raised his eyebrow and Chuuya cleared his throat before correcting himself, “heck would I accept?”

Dazai hummed, lost in thought. “Why wouldn’t you? The reward of beating me at something is too good to pass up, isn’t it? And, asking me anything, answer completely honest, doesn’t that sound delicious?”

Chuuya bit his bottom lip, weighing his options. If he won, there was a chance he could ask Dazai about his true intentions. Even though Chuuya thought he had a good read on Dazai, didn’t mean he understood everything about the other man. It would really help ease his conscious before he acted on his newfound feelings.

“Alright,” Chuuya breathed out, “You’re on.”

Dazai nodded and waved his hand, allowing for Chuuya to start his turn.

It turned out Chuuya was really fucking awful at bowling.

Due to Chuuya’s short temper, every time he wouldn’t knock down more than half of the pins, he would get angry at himself and throw the ball way too hard next shot. Dazai was no fucking help either, just laughing at Chuuya every time he rolled a gutter ball.

Dazai wasn’t stellar per say, but he wasn’t bad, probably somewhere above average. Far better than Chuuya. With his calculating mind, he was able to ascertain exactly how many pins needed to be knocked down, how to do it, and then execute perfectly. Dazai was only lacking on the strength side.

He was always at least ten points above Chuuya.

It was infuriating.

Chuuya ended up losing the bet. He sighed, dejected, and flopped down in the seat next to Dazai.

“Alright,” he said, “What’s your question?”

“How boring,” Dazai exclaimed, “I’m going to save this for when something important comes up!”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow but didn’t push further.

“Want to go another round?”

What?” Chuuya asked, completely misunderstanding what Dazai was insinuating.

“Of bowling,” Dazai clarified, smirk clear on his face.

“Oh,” Chuuya whimpered, face bright red. He huffed, standing up, trying to fight down the growing blush on his cheeks. “Sure.”

After Chuuya got home that night, he checked his phone. That was the one nice thing about hanging out with Dazai, he never really went on his phone. Always focused on the task at hand: making it look like they were in love.

Chuuya missed the usual texts from Black Lizard and a phone call from Kouyou. A problem for another day. There was an unusual Twitter notification from Dazai, however.

Chuuya clicked on it, completely baffled. He didn’t remember Dazai taking his phone out at any point throughout the night. Chuuya was met with a video of himself bowling from behind, Dazai zooming in on his ass halfway through.

Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed that Dazai took the video in the first place, and now it was public to the entire world. He was going to kill Dazai.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman

the real reason why chuuya and i went bowling~




Dazai insisted that they meet again within the next couple of days because once filming started back up again, it was going to be intense. They weren’t quite sure when the next opportunity would arise to submit the song. And Chuuya really wanted it looked over by their respective companies.

Two days later Dazai was back at Chuuya’s apartment. Even though a month had passed, Dazai walked in like he owned the place. Like no time had passed. It was oddly comfortable and reassuring on Chuuya’s end.

Dazai passed an angry Chuuya into the apartment, leaning down briefly to press a chaste peck to Chuuya’s cheek.

“You’re an hour late,” Chuuya deadpanned.

“Jetlag~” Dazai sung as he walked past the living room and into Chuuya’s kitchen.

“Bastard,” Chuuya snarled, slamming the door, “That’s not how that works!”

Chuuya was so mad he didn’t even process that Dazai kissed him on the cheek.

“Details, details,” Dazai replied. His eyes roamed around the kitchen until landing on the camellia displayed prominently in a small vase. Dazai stopped walking, far too zoned in on the fake flower to continue moving towards the studio.

“Dazai, I swear-” Chuuya raged before his eyes focused on what intrigued Dazai so much. He cut himself off, also taken aback.

“You kept it,” Dazai breathed out.

Usually, it was hard to read Dazai. But Chuuya understood why Dazai was so dumbstruck. He was in awe.

“Yeah,” Chuuya replied, “But don’t make a big deal out of it. It just looked good in my kitchen, that’s all.”

Dazai’s head turned so he was looking at Chuuya. He nodded in acknowledgment. But Chuuya could see how wide Dazai’s eyes were and how his jaw was slightly slack. He didn’t believe a word of what Chuuya said.

Chuuya scratched his neck awkwardly. Instead of trying to defend himself, Chuuya walked past Dazai, hoping to lead the other into the studio. For the reason they were here. Not to get sidetracked.

Dazai followed like a lost puppy.

Once inside the studio, Chuuya took a seat at the piano bench. Dazai joined him soon after, sitting close to Chuuya, thighs pressed close together. Chuuya blamed the physical contact on the tiny bench and nothing else. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Chuuya opened his laptop which was propped on top of the piano and started sifting through audio files. Finally, he pulled up the newest arrangement for the instruments that he recorded this morning.

The sheet music was already sitting on the piano’s stand, awaiting the two singers. Chuuya glanced back at Dazai and asked, “Ready?”


Chuuya hit play and leaned back on the bench, awaiting his cue.

It sounded really pretty. Not quite beautiful. There was still something off that Chuuya couldn’t quite place, but he was hoping that Mori and Fukazawa’s keen ears would correct their mistakes.

After the initial ten seconds of pure instrumental, Dazai and Chuuya began singing together. It was powerful to have the two of their voices blend together as the first note. Just like their relationship, it was unbeatable, strong and consistent to the core.

Chuuya had to admit, even though he didn’t love pop music, he really liked this song. There was a constant push and pull of their voices. And they seemed to read each other perfectly. Whenever Chuuya wanted to go high, Dazai would sing a lower tone of voice to balance them out. Whenever Dazai wanted a more prominent vocal, Chuuya would reign in his voice quieter so he could give Dazai his moment.

Chuuya closed his eyes halfway through, feeling the music entirely. It felt so good to be in his own world singing. With Dazai pressed so close to his side. He could pretend that everything was right. There was nothing he loved more than singing... and maybe he would allow himself to lump Dazai in that category. Maybe.

Once the singing portion ended, the instrumentals fading out, Chuuya fluttered his eyes open. He was met with Dazai’s smiling face. Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up. He didn’t remember consciously turning so he was facing Dazai.

Dazai was close. Too close.

Chuuya licked his lips anxiously, heartrate picking up. Dazai’s eyes immediately flickered down to Chuuya’s lips. Seeing that display filled Chuuya up with more confidence and reassurance than he had felt all month. Chuuya couldn’t have stopped the natural progression even if he wanted to. But he really didn’t fucking want to.

Chuuya’s lips met Dazai’s lips halfway. The angle was slightly awkward, since their bodies were still facing the piano, their faces turned to the side to kiss. Dazai reached his hands up to cup Chuuya’s cheeks, positioning their faces to as good of an angle as possible. Chuuya’s hands chased after Dazai’s, cupping Dazai’s own hands.

Dazai tilted his head to the side in order to slide his lips over Chuuya’s better. Chuuya really had to hold himself back from moaning into the kiss. But Dazai’s lips felt so good, so soft, so plump, and so much like Dazai. Chuuya’s head was spinning. He never wanted to taste anything different. After a few minutes, they parted for air.

Dazai smiled lopsidedly at Chuuya. “Hi,” Dazai whispered.

Chuuya chuckled. “Hi,” he whispered right back.

“It feels so good to be back home.”

Chuuya’s stomach fluttered. He knew exactly what Dazai meant.

After the spur of the moment kiss, Chuuya suggested that they record one version of the song and send it off to their managers before calling it a day. Because Dazai was late, Chuuya really didn’t have time to mess around before he had to leave for a meeting.

Singing the song a second time, with his lips still tingling from Dazai’s, really helped Chuuya sing a version he was even more proud of. Adding the song to the existing audio file was easy enough, the whole process done in twenty minutes.

And then Dazai was leaving.

Before Dazai exited Chuuya’s apartment, Chuuya reached forward, encircling Dazai’s wrist. Dazai turned back to Chuuya and raised his eyebrow.

“Do you have a favorite food?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai hesitated. “Why?”

“I promised I was going to cook you a meal, and I always keep my promises.”

Dazai’s eyes softened. “Chibi would make such a good housewife~”

Chuuya dropped Dazai’s hand as if it were scolding.

“Never-fucking-mind,” he snarled.

Dazai laughed and turned around, giving Chuuya his full attention. “If you must know,” Dazai said, “My favorite food is crab.”

Chuuya huffed out an annoyed breath. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” Dazai replied, waving as he walked away. “You could’ve looked that up online though.”

“You-" Chuuya screamed, half tempted to pick up one of the shoes lying by the entrance and throw it after Dazai.



For the next two and a half days, Chuuya frantically tried to teach himself how to cook crab properly. He kept telling himself that it didn’t matter what the crab tasted like, any type of food with actual substance should be more than enough for Dazai. Besides Dazai probably ate canned crab chalked full of sodium. Anything would be better than that garbage. But still.

There were three reasons that Chuuya was determined to make the best fucking meal of his entire fucking life.

One: he really wanted Dazai to eat. From the looks of it, Dazai had essentially been starving himself while overseas. Chuuya didn’t quite know the specifics of it, but he was hoping that some good food might help Dazai enjoy eating again.

Two: this was the last full day that Chuuya and Dazai would spend together before Dazai started filming tomorrow morning. Due to jetlag, and the movie’s already pretty tight schedule, the fact that they saw each other as often as they did these past few weeks was surreal. Chuuya wanted to do something nice. Just this once.

Three: Chuuya wanted to distract himself from thinking about the kiss. Ever since Dazai and Chuuya kissed without Dazai asking for consent, no intention of anyone ever seeing their private moment, Chuuya was confused. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to the kiss. If anything, he really wanted to do it more.

It more had to do with the fact that he had no idea what it was supposed to mean. Chuuya still couldn’t read Dazai like an open book. He wasn’t sure if it was a spur of the moment lust thing, or if there was the possibility that it meant more.

Whenever Chuuya thought back on that moment, Dazai’s eyes shining at him, looking at Chuuya like he was the only person in the world, Chuuya could swear that it meant something more. That he wasn’t just reading into what his heart wanted him to believe.

But then Chuuya would remember how the first time Dazai kissed Chuuya it was also in his apartment, away from everyone else, and no one saw evidence of it. There was a small part of Chuuya’s brain which kept nagging him that Dazai meant this most recent kiss as simply “more practice.” Especially since they hadn’t kissed in a month.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe Chuuya should stop trying to get his hopes up.

Because as much as he hates to admit it, Chuuya can’t imagine losing Dazai.

Chuuya rarely thought about the future, but when he did, he always assumed Dazai would be there, an omnipresent thorn in his side. Even when they were just rivals, competing for top sales, Chuuya could never imagine wanting to outdo another artist more than he wanted to outdo Dazai.

There was a big part of Chuuya that didn’t know what he was going to do when this year ended. When Dazai and Chuuya inevitably “broke up.” Would they go back to being rivals? Would there be more hatred? All the possibilities exhausted Chuuya.

So, like with everything else Chuuya did, he threw himself into whatever he was currently working on. In this case, it was cooking. He got lost in the artistic finesse behind different spices and techniques he could use to make Dazai a good crab.

If he wasn’t going to be Dazai’s boyfriend forever, he was definitely going to be the boyfriend who made Dazai the best meal ever, dammit.

Come Sunday, Chuuya was once again immersed in cooking. But this time it was for real. Dazai should be showing up in around twenty minutes. Technically, Dazai should be showing up in five minutes, but honestly, Chuuya started to factor in that Dazai was going to be late.

Chuuya had already cleaned the crab and was just about to start breaking up the meat into sections when he heard a knock at the door.

That was strange. It might be his neighbor underneath him. Chuuya supposed he was making a lot of noise but compared to the amount of noise that he usually made while brainstorming, this shouldn’t be anything that would require a noise complaint for.

Chuuya placed the crab down gently on the kitchen counter, grabbed a nearby hand towel, and started wiping down his hands as he made his way to the front door. When Chuuya swung open the door he was met with none other than Dazai.

Dazai smiled at Chuuya and waved.

Chuuya stood there shocked. His grip on the towel tightened as he looked at Dazai, completely taken aback by Dazai looking that good in front of him.

“You’re early,” Chuuya blurted out.

Dazai shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought I would make up for being so late last time.”

Chuuya nodded and stepped to the side, not daring to trust his voice. Dazai walked inside and closed the door behind him.

“Something smells really good,” he commented.

“I was still in the process of cooking,” Chuuya admitted sheepishly.

Dazai looked back at Chuuya, giving him a clear once over. “I guess that explains the gray sweatpants.”

Chuuya nodded. “Yeah, I planned on changing while the crab was boiling.”

Dazai hummed and strolled into Chuuya’s kitchen, Chuuya close behind, making sure that Dazai didn’t fucking ruin anything. Once back at the kitchen counter Chuuya was working at, he tossed the towel by the sink, and picked up right where he left off. Dazai was especially quiet, watching Chuuya’s hands with rapt attention.

All Chuuya had left to do was submerge the crab and let it boil for twelve minutes. Every website Chuuya had inspected over the past couple days recommended ten to fifteen minutes. From Chuuya’s own tests, twelve was perfect.

He placed the crab in the pot filled with boiling water and set a timer on his phone. Chuuya then held up two hands at Dazai, signaling he would be back and changed in ten minutes. That meant Dazai had ten minutes to not fuck around. Dazai nodded his understanding and Chuuya walked into his bedroom.

He was honestly kind of glad that Dazai showed up first, because then he could gauge how nice he was supposed to dress. Chuuya had a couple different outfits planned depending on how serious this night was.

Dazai was wearing a pale yellow sweater, the front chunk tucked into a pair of light washed jeans, and the rest of the sweater hanging down loosely. He looked incredibly soft to the touch. Chuuya just wanted to snuggle Dazai.

Deciding on a similar vibe, Chuuya went with outfit number three. Outfit three consisted of a gray beanie, gray and blue checkered flannel shirt with a darker gray undershirt, and dark blue jeans. Since it was just dinner, Chuuya decided to leave the choker and gloves off. The only reason he bothered putting on a beanie was because he had been cooking with his hair tied in a tight bun, meaning some his hair wasn’t as curly as usual.

True to his word, eight minutes later, Chuuya reappeared from his bedroom freshly dressed. Dazai gave him another once over and nodded in approval. Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully but didn’t make a verbal comment.

He relished in the fact that he and Dazai could have full blown conversations without saying a word.

Chuuya moved over to the pot and poked at the crab, checking its tenderness. His phone alerted him that he still four minutes until the crab was done, but he wanted to check, just in case. Dazai moved over to stand by Chuuya, leaning his back against the countertop, his arms crossed loosely.

Dazai’s head nodded towards Chuuya’s left side and asked, “Did you drink half a bottle of wine before I got here?”

Chuuya glanced to what Dazai was referencing and chuckled. He read somewhere online that adding wine to the boiling water mixture would heighten the crab’s flavor. And any opportunity for wine, Chuuya would take.

Chuuya shook his head no. “I added it to the crab,” he explained.

Dazai’s lips formed a round ‘o’ shape in understanding.

Dazai pushed himself forward so he was leaning against Chuuya’s back. He bent forward and tucked his head on Chuuya’s shoulder, watching Chuuya’s movements as he finished preparing the crab. Once Chuuya was finished plating and wanted to move to the dining table did he see an issue with this current configuration.

“Are you going to be a damn leech all night?”

Dazai huffed out a breath of air against Chuuya’s ear, causing shivers down his spine. Dazai’s arms looped around Chuuya’s waist and pulled the smaller man flush against his body.

“But Chuuya is so warm,” he pouted, turning his face to the side and snuggling into Chuuya’s neck.

“Dazai,” he warned.

Dazai grumbled in response, pulling Chuuya impossibly closer and nestling his head even more on Chuuya’s shoulder. Chuuya just sighed. He could feel Dazai’s lips ghosting over his neck, right where the choker usually rested. It felt even more intimate.

Chuuya brought his hand up to stroke through Dazai’s hair. “Dazai,” he murmured, “I know what you’re doing. Don’t think you’re going to get out of eating. I spent a lot of time on this.”

Slowly, Dazai withdrew his arms from Chuuya’s slender waist. He trudged around the kitchen, helping Chuuya bring the necessary things to the table for their meal.

Once everything was set up, Dazai and Chuuya sat down across from each other. Chuuya swished around his glass of wine before taking a small sip, letting the cool liquid moisten his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dazai snap a picture. Chuuya didn’t even question it anymore.

It took a little bit of coaxing on Chuuya’s end, but he did eventually get Dazai to do more than just poke at his crab. After a few bites, Chuuya could see a clear shift between Dazai forcing the crab into his mouth, wincing silently with each movement of his jaw, and enjoyment. Chuuya was genuinely surprised that Dazai managed to finish his entire meal.

That brought a smile to Chuuya’s face which wouldn’t leave for the entire night.

Much like last time they ate dinner, Dazai offered to clean the dishes while Chuuya continued to sip wine on the couch. The only difference is that when Dazai joined, Chuuya didn’t protest. Instead, Chuuya immediately folded himself against Dazai’s side.

Dazai interlaced his fingers with Chuuya’s and gave his hands a small squeeze.

Dazai didn’t need to say anything. Chuuya read him loud and clear. The thank you made Chuuya’s heart ache.

They didn’t talk about anything for a while. Dazai fiddled with Chuuya’s fingers, Chuuya soaked up the heat that Dazai was radiating off. Dazai was probably thinking, that big, stupid, brain of his always in overdrive.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya called.

Dazai hummed.


Chuuya felt Dazai tense up next to him but didn’t bother specifying the ‘why.’ Dazai knew what Chuuya was implying. He didn’t need to outright say anything.

Dazai sighed and leaned his head on top of Chuuya’s.

“I guess I’ve really taken your advice to heart when embodying Shuuji,” Dazai finally said.

Dazai didn’t need to say anymore. Chuuya understood. He snuggled closer to Dazai, pressing a small kiss to Dazai’s neck.

They’ve never really talked about Dazai’s past. Sure, Chuuya knew about Dazai’s rise to fame. It was actually very similar to his own story. But besides that, Chuuya never pushed Dazai to open up to him.

It went without saying the reason behind Dazai’s scars was due to self-harm. And from the looks of it, things were getting better, but a small part of Chuuya was afraid that this movie would take more of a hit to Dazai’s mental health than either of them initially anticipated.

Chuuya didn’t quite understand the extent of what Dazai did to feel any sort of emotion, but judging off of this event alone, it went to extreme lengths.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Dazai began to chatter on about whatever popped into his mind. He started off talking about the crab, and then showing Chuuya pictures of Japan, and even commenting on Chuuya’s impromptu concert. As the conversation continued, Dazai’s voice garnered more and more excitement. It was music to Chuuya’s ears.

At some point, Dazai even wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist, snuggling right back against Chuuya. Chuuya promised himself that he would never tell anyone about his cuddly drunk side.

At around ten o’clock, Chuuya told Dazai that he should probably leave so he wouldn’t be tired in the morning for filming. Dazai whined. Chuuya huffed in amusement and tried to wiggle his way out of Dazai’s grip. Dazai whined even louder.

“Dazai,” Chuuya exclaimed.

Dazai just laughed.

How did he allow himself to constantly get stuck within this position?

“Please?” Chuuya asked.

“Hm,” Dazai pondered. “Okay, I’ll let you go. But only if Chuuya gives me a kiss.”

“I don’t want to kiss you, asshole. You’re just going to treat that as positive reinforcement and keep fucking doing this!”

“When did Chuuya get so smart?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Chuuya raged.

Dazai just laughed louder. After two more minutes of frantically wriggling around, Chuuya gave up.

“Fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll kiss your stupid ass.”

“Oh~” Dazai purred, face inching close to Chuuya’s, “Chuuya wants to kiss my ass?”

Chuuya’s face heat up. “No!”

Dazai chuckled lowly. Chuuya seemed to finally register how close he was to Dazai and leaned closer in anticipation. Dazai immediately took the hint, meeting Chuuya’s lips halfway.

Each time Chuuya’s lips brushed against Dazai’s, he always felt a rush of energy shoot through his spine. He though by the third, or fourth, or hell even tenth kiss he shared with Dazai that this feeling would go away. But no. He still felt breathless.

Dazai’s arms slipped away from Chuuya’s body, signaling that he was free to leave, but Chuuya didn’t want to stop the kiss anytime soon. After a few minutes, Chuuya inevitably parted from Dazai because it really was late. And at this pace, Chuuya would end up wanting to do more with Dazai than just kiss. Which was dangerous.

Dazai smiled goofily at Chuuya and slowly hoisted himself up.

“I’ll wait for my driver here,” Dazai said, “Hope you don’t mind.”

Chuuya shrugged. “That’s fine. I’m probably going to shower right now.”

Dazai nodded and moved over to the front door, leaned against it, and scrolled through his phone. Chuuya also moved from the couch, into the bathroom connected to his bedroom and began to strip himself down for a shower.

The spray of warm water felt incredible against his muscles. Chuuya hadn’t even realized how stressed for this night he was. The weight of making Dazai a meal on top of understanding his new feelings for Dazai was just exhausting.

But for the first time this week, Chuuya felt himself relax. He even caught himself singing verses from different songs. Some were his own, some were Dazai’s, some were of their new collaboration song. After fully cleaning himself, Chuuya emerged from the shower a new man.

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He then grabbed another towel and began to pat down his hair. Moving to the sink, he grabbed a few hair products and ran them throughout his hair, accentuating and locking in his curls.

Just as an added reward, Chuuya even used a couple more expensive moisturizers on his skin that he only reserved for special occasions.

Once satisfied with his hair and skin care routine, Chuuya moved out the bathroom.

“You know,” a silky-smooth voice said as he padded into his bedroom, “It takes real talent to butcher your own songs.”

Chuuya nearly dropped the towel he was gripping around his waist in shock.

Was that Dazai? Sitting on his bed? Looking at Chuuya through hooded eyes? What the fuck?!

“Dazai,” Chuuya screamed, “What the fuck, you can’t fucking scare me like that! And what the shit do you mean ‘butcher my own songs,’ bastard?! I’ll have you know, I did a great performance in there.”

Dazai laughed at how quickly Chuuya got riled up.

“Also,” Chuuya continued. “What the fuck are you still doing here?!”

“Well,” Dazai explained, eyes raking up and down Chuuya’s exposed muscle, “I was thinking to myself that it’s getting kind of late. By the time my driver gets here, I’ll be getting home even later. And then I thought, well, what if I stayed here? I did the math, it’s a shorter distance from here to on-set than my own house.”

Chuuya blinked at Dazai owlishly. “So, you’re staying the night,” he deadpanned.


“I don’t have a spare room, dumbass.”

“I know. But you have a pretty big bed. And we’re supposed to be dating, right?”

Chuuya sighed. He was too drained from all of thisto even point out the absolute bullshit that justification provided. Plus, there was no way Dazai was going to give in. He was way too predictable when it came to his general cockiness during these moments.

“You know what,” Chuuya snarled, “Fine. But if you so much as touch me, I’m going to kick you off the bed before you even realize what’s happening.”

Dazai’s eyes sparkled up at Chuuya.

Chuuya felt his heart pound in his chest.

Getting ready for bed with Dazai was surprisingly easy. They could read each other well enough where they never got in each other’s way, and there was hardly any waiting time to use the bathroom.

As Chuuya crawled into bed, he finally checked his missed notifications.

Unsurprisingly, there was one from Dazai. Seriously, this man was a genius when it came to pulling out his phone unseen.

Dazai tweeted three pictures of Chuuya. The first was of when Chuuya was still in the process of cooking, small smile on his face as his hands were wrapped around the crab. The second was of when Chuuya was sipping wine, their finished dinner prominently on display. The third was of their kiss. Chuuya especially liked that picture, because he hadn’t realized that both he and Dazai were smiling against each other’s lips.

Normally, Chuuya didn’t retweet Dazai’s stuff. But this time he did.




osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 1h

date night ヽ(^◇^*)/

[image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg]


darlin’ @blxcklizxrd – 1h

chuuya cooking dazai’s favorite meal?????? did somebody say DOMESTIC


naomi!! @foreverdazai – 1h

does anyone know if dazai and chuuya live together?


original resonance @ooooosamu – 1h

HOW are we not talking about that KISS? my gay heart,,,, is literally .....crying with joy


cool alright @freechuuya – 1h

i for one hate that d*zai constantly posts shit about chuuya bc it feels like he’s just using chuuya? lol don’t @ me tho


double suicide with chuuya @onmylove4dazai – 1h

any theories as to why dazai is losing so much weight? , I’m like really worried for him


heart and soul @inspiringchuuya – 1h

tbh to be honest for anyone saying that chuuya is the reason dazai lost weight this clearly proves that is not the case!!


heart and soul @inspiringchuuya – 1h 

no way would dazai willingly post smthn abt food w chuuya if it wasn’t a reassurance that he IS eating


heart and soul @inspiringchuuya – 1h

pls stop attacking chuuya and dazai clearly they just want to be happy

all of you being nasty are so problematic and jealous and that’s just the tea

Chapter Text

Sleeping with Dazai was weird.

No, scratch that, everything with Dazai was weird.

The first night had not been that bad. True to Chuuya’s word, Dazai slept on his side of the bed while Chuuya curled up on the other side. There was no touching of any kind. Even though Chuuya had stayed up a lot later than he would’ve liked because he kept thinking that he was going to naturally drift closer to Dazai.

No such thing happened. Well, as far as Chuuya was concerned no such thing happened. When he woke up it was late in the morning and Dazai was already gone.

Chuuya stretched out his limbs and made his way over to the kitchen to make something for breakfast. He was surprised when there was already a mug waiting for him on his kitchen counter. Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows and directed himself that way instead.

Underneath the coffee mug was a post-it note with Dazai’s shitty handwriting on it. ‘Thank you,’ it said.

Cute, he thought.

Chuuya smiled softly and brought the mug up to his lips. No point in letting a good cup of coffee go to waste. Even if it was a tad too cold.

Chuuya took a sip and immediately spit it right back into the cup where it came from. He slammed the ceramic mug, thank fuck it didn’t break, and coughed on the particulates stuck scratching his throat.

Was that goddamn salt in his coffee and not sugar?

So not fucking cute, he thought instead.

And that should have been the end of Dazai staying overnight at Chuuya’s apartment.

Key word: should.

That night as Chuuya was in the middle of a phone call with Kouyou, his front door opened. Chuuya raised his eyebrow and made his way over to the living room so he could get a clear view of who was entering his apartment. He really should not have been surprised when he saw Dazai.

Chuuya sighed, voice directed towards the phone call. “Ane-san,” he said, “I’m going to have to call you back.” Without even waiting for a response, Chuuya ended the call.

“What are you doing here?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai flashed a smile. “I thought we agreed for me to stay here for the rest of filming.”

“I’m pretty sure we said no such fucking thing,” Chuuya snapped.

Dazai hummed. He placed his chin between his thumb and forefinger and contemplated what Chuuya said. After a minute of silence, Dazai snapped his finger in acknowledgment.

“I’ve just decided that there is no way you could be correct.”

Chuuya opened his mouth to retort, but quickly gave up. Dazai was so fucking annoying.

Dazai moved over to the couch and laid down, body taking up the entire length. Chuuya glared daggers.

“If you’re going to stay here at least give me some room, asshole.”

Dazai lifted up his head and neck. With his eyes, Dazai gestured vaguely to the small area underneath his head. Chuuya sighed once more. Well, that was going to be as much room as he could’ve ever hoped for.

Chuuya sat down and settled into the couch beneath him. Dazai then rested his head on top of Chuuya’s lap. He smiled up at Chuuya.

“You are so fucking weird,” Chuuya huffed.

Nonetheless, he brought a hand up to start carding through Dazai’s brown locks. He pushed the bangs which usually covered part of Dazai’s eyes upwards, so it wasn’t obstructing his face. Chuuya couldn’t help but admit that Dazai looked even more breathtaking like this.

Dazai blinked up at Chuuya and smiled. Chuuya dragged his hand down to shove Dazai’s face away from looking at him.

“Stop that,” he hissed.

“But Chuuya,” Dazai whined.

Chuuya shushed Dazai by running his hand once more through Dazai’s hair. Dazai hummed, content, his eyes fluttering shut and nestling his head more comfortably on Chuuya’s thighs.

It was nice. Chuuya could easily admit that when Dazai kept his fucking mouth shut, he was pleasant to be around. They didn’t speak for a while, falling into a comfortable silence. Chuuya was pretty sure Dazai had a rough first day back filming. Everyday sounded like it was going to intense, after all.

“You can stay one more night,” Chuuya finally said. “But that is it. Got it?”




One night turned into two.

The second day, Chuuya finally came to the conclusion that Dazai never fucking listened to him. Chuuya walked out of his studio, stomach growling from his decision to skip lunch and keep working.

Chuuya noticed two things as he entered his living room. One, Dazai was curled up on his couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, breathing even as if he were asleep. Two, on top of the coffee table lay two bags of takeout. Well, at least Dazai had the foresight to bring Chuuya food.

“Dazai,” Chuuya mumbled, shaking the other man awake.

It took a little bit of coaxing, but Dazai finally woke up, blinking blearily up at Chuuya.

“What are you doing here?”

Dazai yawned and sat up straight, blanket sliding past his shoulder.

“We got out late today,” he explained, “I thought this would be easier.”

Chuuya sighed, already tired. Seriously, he was so confused. He reached forward for one of the takeout bags and inspected the content. Burgers, huh? And they didn’t feel too cold either.

“Do you want to eat?” Chuuya asked, already feeling his hunger grow more impatient.

Dazai nodded. He wordlessly scooted over, allowing Chuuya the pleasure of having half of the couch to himself this time. How fucking generous.

Chuuya handed one of the bags off to Dazai and then began to dig into this grease-filled feast. Dazai also started to nibble on his food, much to Chuuya’s approval.

Throughout dinner Dazai rambled on and on about the movie. From his itchy costume, to Fitzgerald’s insane movie budget, to Akutagawa and Atsushi. It seemed like he was having a lot of fun. Even though Dazai’s co-stars sounded like they weren’t getting nearly enough credit for having to put up with Dazai’s bullshit.

Chuuya only interjected here and there, asking questions when Dazai’s train of thought was ten steps ahead of his own. Chuuya liked listening to Dazai talk unfiltered, excitement bursting from the tip of his tongue. When he got into fits like this, sometimes he would slip from English to Japanese without realizing. Chuuya absolutely adored it.

After dinner, Dazai asked if he could shower. “Dinner” was to be used loosely, since Chuuya and Dazai talked for almost two hours, long after their burgers were eaten, wrappers strewn about the living room rug. Chuuya really didn’t mind. He showed Dazai the bathroom connected to the master suite.

In the meantime, Chuuya scrounged through his closet to try and find something big enough for Dazai to sleep in. Seriously, if this was going to be a full-time deal, Dazai was just going to have to bring over clothes. This was ridiculous. He’s too fucking gangly for Chuuya’s petite clothing.

It took a little bit, but Chuuya finally found a ratty old band shirt, which he himself hadn’t seen in months, and a pair of sweatpants. Just as Chuuya was about to lay out the clothes and leave Dazai some privacy, the door to the bathroom opened.

Dazai emerged, towel hanging loose around his hips. But that’s not what caught Chuuya’s attention. It was the overwhelming number of scars that littered Dazai’s body. Chuuya could barely swallow over the lump emerging in his throat.

Dazai’s eyes widened only momentarily before he realized what Chuuya was so fixated on.

Without speaking, Dazai and Chuuya moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Chuuya didn’t even ask permission before his fingers were roaming over Dazai’s abdomen.

It’s not that Chuuya didn’t know Dazai had scars. He did. Dazai showed them to him. But this was different. So much more than Chuuya could have ever predicted. Dazai’s entire front half was covered with milky white scars, deep maroon burn marks, and even some unknown markings that Chuuya couldn’t fathom the cause of.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind the attention. Chuuya wasn’t pitying Dazai per say, he just wanted to know what Dazai was going through.

Chuuya’s fingers ran up the entire length of Dazai’s stomach to his chest and back down again. Rough, calloused, hands skirting over indents and old gashes. Chuuya could barely breathe.

Once he was done inspecting Dazai’s chest, Chuuya move his fingers over to Dazai’s left forearms. He gently twisted Dazai’s arm over to see the inside skin and almost felt sick. Unlike on his chest, these marks looked so much more recent. The skin around certain areas still looked red and irritated.

It looked worse than Chuuya remembered. Fuck, was this because of the movie? Was Dazai seriously putting himself in a situation where he was killing himself just to produce a good role?

Chuuya opened his mouth to yell at Dazai for being so irresponsible.

As if knowing what Chuuya was going to say, Dazai spoke first.

“I’m okay,” he said.

Chuuya gritted his teeth. The evidence seemed to point otherwise.

“Bullshit,” Chuuya spat out.

Dazai raised his eyebrow.

“Dammit, Dazai,” Chuuya breathed out, “This isn’t something to fucking lie about.”

“Why would I lie?” Dazai asked, head tilted to the side.

“Why would you tell the truth?” Chuuya retorted.

Dazai and Chuuya fell into a lapse of silence.

Chuuya sighed. “Can you at least let me know what kinds of scenes you’re filming beforehand so I can know what the fuck is going on?”

Dazai contemplated that for a second and then nodded. It was such a small movement that Chuuya barely missed it. But there it was, consent that Dazai would at least talk to Chuuya.

Chuuya smiled softly and then dropped Dazai’s hand. He shoved the clothes he picked out into Dazai’s lap, and shooed him off into the bathroom to change.



Two days turned into two weeks.

Honestly, Chuuya isn’t really sure what happened.

It was so easy to fall into a routine with Dazai. Every morning Dazai would leave for filming before Chuuya woke up. Chuuya would then walk into the kitchen to see some stupid post-it note lying on the counter. Ranging from silly drawings, to Japanese characters, to phrases in English. On top of said post-it note, there would always be a cup of coffee.

Chuuya learned his lesson the first time he drank the coffee. After that, he never pressed his lips to the liquid gold, no matter how bad he craved caffeine. No amount of good coffee would make up for Dazai’s fuck ups.

Then, Chuuya would workout in the morning, leaving the whole afternoon for himself. Typically, he would answer business calls, write, or read a book. He was still waiting for the revisions from Mori and Fukazawa. Until then, Chuuya busied himself with small projects.

Finally, at around five or six, Dazai would come back home. Every time he returned, Dazai would flop onto the couch and curl up, either playing on his phone or reading.

This also gave Chuuya the excuse to cook for Dazai a lot more. Sometimes Dazai didn’t eat everything, but that was okay. At least Chuuya knew Dazai was eating one meal per day.

It should have scared Chuuya a lot more than it did, how easy they were able to adjust to living with each other.

Because, yeah, Dazai was still annoying. Sometimes he would lay on the couch and only speak to Chuuya when it was absolutely necessary, telling about what was in store for tomorrow. Other times he would hog up the bathroom rehearsing lines. But overall, Chuuya was able to read Dazai well enough that he never felt like they were stepping on top of each other.

It should have scared Chuuya, but, honestly, it didn’t. Chuuya had only really contemplated their living situation a couple times throughout the past week, and he always came to the same conclusion. He enjoyed living with Dazai.

Not that Chuuya would ever admit that. But it was nice to know someone was coming home. That this big apartment wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore. Because it was very lonely. Chuuya had never realized how alone he had felt before meeting someone like Dazai, who faced a lot of the same insecurities Chuuya did when starting off in the music industry.

It was nice.

They also talked a lot more now.

Chuuya was happy.

Chuuya was also happy that Mori finally sent Chuuya revisions for their song earlier this morning. Now Chuuya could work on something of utmost importance.

Chuuya finally felt confident in the sheet music that he was looking over. It took forever, but for once Chuuya felt like he had a clear direction of what he wanted the finalized guitar line to sound like.

Just as Chuuya was about to text Dazai, he heard the telltale click of his front entrance, signaling Dazai was home. Perfect timing.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya hollered from the living room, “I think I have something you’re going to like!”

Dazai didn’t say a word as he trudged through the apartment. Once he reached the couch where Chuuya was sitting, he flopped down, all his limbs falling in uncomfortable positions.

Chuuya was stunned. He had never seen Dazai this unresponsive before. Sure, he was lazy, but never to the point where he would outright ignore Chuuya. Something was very off.

“Dazai?” Chuuya prompted again.

Dazai just groaned into the pillows in response.

“What’s up with you?”

Dazai, again, didn’t say real words.

Chuuya raked his brain. He was genuinely confused why Dazai was moping like this. Did something happen at work? Chuuya couldn’t remember Dazai complaining about anyone or anything in particular.

He kept thinking. Finally, it dawned on Chuuya. Fuck, he felt like such an idiot. This was the day where Dazai filmed his self-harm scenes. Where Dazai had to show his scars on camera, and because Dazai was a fucking idiot, volunteered to add more scars to make it more “realistic.”

God, Chuuya was going to kill him.

Instead of saying anything further, Chuuya reached his hand over to Dazai and began to rub his back. He hoped it was comforting. Dazai burrowed his head in the cushions in response.

Chuuya sighed. He really hated seeing Dazai this vulnerable. It was so unlike him. Sure, Chuuya appreciated that Dazai was more real this way. But it was so hard for Chuuya’s heart to not ache with sympathy for Dazai.

After consoling Dazai for a few minutes, Chuuya had a brilliant idea.

Without saying a word, Chuuya stopped rubbing Dazai’s back and made his way into his bedroom. It took a while to rummage through the closet to find exactly what he was looking for, but once Chuuya found it he smiled to himself.

He walked back out to Dazai and dumped an oversized gray sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and a black beanie on Dazai’s back.

"Put those on,” Chuuya instructed, “I want to show you something.”

With sluggish movements, Dazai sat up. The clothes Chuuya previously tossed on Dazai’s back slipped off and landed in a small pile on the couch.

“What?” Dazai asked dumbly.

“Get changed,” Chuuya repeated, “I think I know something that will take your mind off of all of this.”

“Chuuya is being oddly cryptic,” Dazai replied. Nonetheless, Dazai scooped up the new clothes and moved into the hall bathroom to change.

Chuuya moved back into his bedroom and changed his own clothes. His red sweater was far too recognizable for where they were going. Chuuya quickly put on gray skinny jeans, a black sweater, a gray ballcap with his hair tied in a ponytail sticking out the back of the hat, and he slipped on a pair of black fingerless gloves.

He then reentered the living room to see Dazai already waiting for him. Dazai’s eyes perked up a little once he took in Chuuya’s appearance.

“Chuuya and I are matching,” he said, a little more Dazai back in his voice.

Chuuya chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that would cheer you up. Now follow me.”

Dazai nodded and followed Chuuya without another word. Chuuya led them down into the garage of his apartment complex. He led them over to the side of the garage, where a white sheet was covering a vehicle underneath.

Chuuya wrapped his fingers around the cloth and tugged it off to reveal a pink motorcycle.

“Ta-da,” Chuuya exclaimed.

Dazai’s eyes flickered between the bike and Chuuya a few times before he said anything else.

“You wanted to show me a bike?” He asked, confused.

Chuuya laughed and grabbed two helmets he had stashed away.

“No,” he replied, handing Dazai one of the two helmets and straddling the bike, “I want to take you somewhere I think you would really enjoy.”

Dazai seemed to finally understand what Chuuya meant.

“Without anyone watching us,” Dazai said, completing Chuuya’s rationale.

Chuuya nodded. He motioned for Dazai to sit behind him, which Dazai did easily enough. They both strapped on their helmets, and then Chuuya revved up the engine. It sounded beautiful. Chuuya didn’t realize how much he missed riding. He should do it more often.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Chuuya kicked up the kickstand and began on their journey. Dazai wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist. At first it was a little too tight for Chuuya’s liking, but it made sense considering Dazai had never ridden on a motorcycle before.

Thankfully, it was only a twenty minute drive. Traffic was good, only adding about ten minutes to their final destination.

About halfway through, while at a stoplight, Dazai leaned forward and said, “I didn’t know you had a motorcycle.”

“Not many do,” Chuuya replied, eyes focused on the traffic light. “I don’t talk about it, so I can escape when I want to. No bodyguards or cameras. Just me, the road, and wherever the fuck I want to go.”

Dazai hummed. “I didn’t really understand the appeal before, but now I think I do.”

Chuuya smiled to himself. He was glad. To have Dazai’s chest this close to his back, he could feel how fast Dazai’s heart was racing. He hoped it was because of the adrenaline pumping through Dazai’s veins. That he was excited about how free he was. That’s why Chuuya loved it so much, at least.

It was only when they passed by a pier with the iconic Ferris Wheel landmark did Dazai finally seemed to understand. He was really sluggish today, which logically made sense, but it still made Chuuya’s heart ache. If it was a normal day, Dazai should have been able to decipher where they were going based on the exit signs Chuuya was following.

“You’re taking us to the pier?” Dazai shouted over the traffic.

“Yeah,” Chuuya yelled back, “I thought the ocean waves would be soothing.”

Dazai leaned forward so his chin was resting on Chuuya’s shoulder and he hummed. Chuuya couldn’t necessarily hear Dazai’s hum as much as feel the vibrations against his back, but it was still a nice acknowledgement.

It only took a couple of minutes for Chuuya to locate a parking garage near the pier and park his motorcycle in a discrete manner. Mostly because he didn’t want his bike to get ruined, dammit.

Dazai hopped off the bike first and stretched his legs, followed by Chuuya. Chuuya eyed his bike warily. If it wasn’t for Dazai grabbing his wrist and tugging him away, Chuuya is pretty sure he would’ve stayed watching his bike all night.

They walked outside the parking garage and over to the pier. It was a really nice night. The sun was low in the sky, not quite sunset, but close. The once blue sky had deep golden hues painted along the horizon. Chuuya was glad he grabbed a sweater and jeans. The seaside air always made it a little chillier than in the city.

Dazai’s eyes were scanning every little thing, taking in every small kid running around and laughing, every flashing light, every new sign of food. Chuuya knew he should be focusing on directing them to find some place to eat, but watching Dazai’s comically large eyes blink was too amusing.

“Have you ever been to Santa Monica?” Chuuya asked, as they got closer to the end of the pier, the Ferris Wheel shining bright in the late day sky.

Dazai shook his head no.

“What do you think?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai furrowed his eyebrows, lost in thought. “It’s loud.”

“Good way or bad way?”

“I think I like it. But what does Chuuya have in mind?”

Chuuya shrugged. “I thought I would do whatever makes you happy today.”

Dazai looked at Chuuya wearily. “Is this because Chuuya wants me to pay?” he asked with a pout.

Chuuya laughed and shoved a hand in Dazai’s face, making the puppy eyes disappear.

“No, idiot. I’m going to pay for everything. This is my treat.”

Dazai blinked at Chuuya with the same confused and wondrous expression as he was taking in everything before.

“Chuuya’s not being hostile with me today,” Dazai pointed out.

Chuuya nodded. “This is a one-time deal only, so be sure to choose wisely.”

Dazai continued to stare at Chuuya.

“Oi,” Chuuya said and punched him lightly in the shoulder, “Quit looking at me like that, it feels wrong.”

Dazai’s eyes softened and he chuckled. “Chuuya will always be hostile with me.”

Chuuya began to feel his blood pressure rise. “Look,” he started, getting fed up.

Dazai cut Chuuya off before he could say anymore. “I’m appreciative, I promise. Can I hold Chuuya’s hand and can we get hot dogs?”

Chuuya let out a sigh. He nodded, and then reached forward to interlace his fingers with Dazai. Chuuya then steered the two of them to a nearby hot dog stand and ordered two. One of Chuuya’s favorite things was going out in disguise. He enjoyed being treated like an equal, paying with cash, and not feeling the glare of a million cameras.

He handed off one of the hot dogs to Dazai and the two walked silently as they ate. It felt completely natural. To hold Dazai’s hand, to brush shoulders, to just take a day away from all the press, music, acting, and have the world revolve around Dazai and Chuuya. It was indescribable. Chuuya could even pretend that this was real.

Chuuya led the two of them down the length of the pier. After he finished his hot dog, Chuuya shamelessly licked the grease off his fingers. No one was around, so why the fuck not?

Dazai snickered.

Chuuya whipped his head so he was looking at Dazai. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dazai said, wiping his hand on Chuuya’s sweatshirt. “Just cute.”

Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t comment any further.

Chuuya continued to watch Dazai out of the corner of his eye. Dazai wasn’t especially talkative today, but that was to be expected. However, Chuuya still wanted to be able to let Dazai have whatever he wanted. If that meant picking up on subtle clues, then Chuuya would just have to pay more attention.

Once they reached the games section of the pier, Chuuya noticed Dazai’s light up. Chuuya halted their motions and looked out at the few booths in front of them. There was one water shooting game, one darts game, and one knock over the milk jugs game. Chuuya assessed his options and felt pretty confident about the last one.

Chuuya looked up at Dazai. “I could probably win you something.”

Dazai blinked down at Chuuya. “Really?” He sounded genuinely touched at the notion.

Chuuya nodded and tugged Dazai in the direction of the booth.

The carny looked Chuuya up and down and snickered. “You think you can win, sonny?”

Chuuya shrugged nonchalantly.  “Probably. Give me one round,” he said, taking out the appropriate amount of bills he would need.

Chuuya absolutely loved being underestimated. To prove someone wrong who thought they knew everything gave him such a rush. He knew that he was physically capable to launch a softball hard enough, and had a killer aim, this should be easy.

The carny and Chuuya exchanged the money for three balls. Chuuya had three shots to knock down all three milk jugs. The more he scored, the better the prize. Easy.

First throw knocked down every bottle effortlessly.

Then the carny reset the bottles. But Chuuya knew the trick to this game. He knew that the carny would set the bottles so that the heavier side was facing Chuuya, so that the bottles would absorb all his strength.

Chuuya took a breath and aimed at the center of the two lower bottles with all his strength. They toppled over effortlessly.

The carny stared at Chuuya in bewilderment. Chuuya just smirked in response and held up the last softball tauntingly. Again, the carny repositioned the bottles. Chuuya knew this would be more difficult, but if he continued to aim right, and used his legs he should be fine.

And he was. The milk bottles once again fell over in a pile.

“Huh,” the carny huffed, “Well, I’ll be damned. You can pick anything you want.”

Chuuya turned to Dazai, who was also staring at Chuuya equal parts amazed and something else Chuuya couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Dazai?” He prompted.

Dazai shook his head, physically shaking away whatever he was thinking, and glanced at all the plushies hanging from the booth. Finally, he pointed at one.

“Can I have that one?”

“Sure thing, kid,” the carny said, reaching up to pluck the sheep plushy off its hook and hand it over to Dazai.

Dazai smiled and hugged the sheep close to his chest. Chuuya watched Dazai fondly.

“Look,” Dazai said, nuzzling his head against the sheep, “It’s soft and cuddly like Chuuya.”

Once again, Chuuya’s cheeks heated up. Did that mean he did cuddle with Dazai in his sleep? Fuck his subconscious, seriously. To offset the redness of his face, Chuuya dragged Dazai away from the games.

After that Dazai seemed to perk up a bit. He took his phone out a lot more, snapping pictures here and there. Dazai even whined at Chuuya to take a couple selfies.

When Chuuya asked what Dazai was doing since they wanted to keep this outing private, Dazai responded with, “I know. But this is fun, and I want to remember today.”

Chuuya dragged Dazai all across the pier, pointing out small things that he found funny, and trying to keep Dazai entertained. Dazai was eating it all up, taking in every word Chuuya was saying. After a loop around the pier, Dazai interlaced their fingers again.

The sun slowly went down, and the darkness ate up the sky. The only other thing Dazai asked for was a ride on the Ferris Wheel, which Chuuya happily obliged. They crammed into the cart and while they were going around, Chuuya stared out the opening and pointed out buildings and landmarks to Dazai that he loved.

Dazai stared at Chuuya in awe.

"Do you like being this high up, Chuuya?” Dazai asked as they were waiting at the top of the Ferris Wheel.

Chuuya nodded. “I feel like I can fly. Why? Do you not?”

Dazai looked down warily at the ground below. “I used to, but now I’m not so sure I would enjoy falling from this high up.”

“Don’t worry,” Chuuya said as he squeezed Dazai’s hand comfortingly, “I won’t let you fall.”

Dazai smiled softly and tugged on Chuuya’s hand. Chuuya turned around so he was facing Dazai. He easily reciprocated Dazai’s smile.

"Chuuya, I-”

Before Dazai could finish his thought, the ride lurched forward and Chuuya, caught off balance, fell into Dazai’s lap. Chuuya and Dazai burst into a fit of laughter at the irony of Chuuya promising to never let Dazai fall and then fell himself.

Dazai never did finish his thought.

Later, as the sky was completely littered with stars, Chuuya bought himself and Dazai ice cream cones, and led them over to the actual beach. They took a spot a little way away from the pier and sat down in the cold sand.

By the time they reached their destination, Dazai already finished his ice cream. He placed his new found plush by the side Chuuya wasn’t sitting next to, and wrapped his arm around Chuuya’s shoulders. This time, Chuuya didn’t fight it.

“Thank you for today,” Dazai mumbled.

Chuuya hummed his acknowledgement while also licking his ice cream.

Dazai scooted closer to Chuuya and pressed a soft kiss to Chuuya’s cheek.

They didn’t say anything more, just watched the waves roll in. The crash of strong, powerful water against the soft sand soothed the beating of Chuuya’s heart. He hoped it helped Dazai in the same way.

“It’s beautiful,” Chuuya whispered, “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Dazai replied, “Beautiful.”

Chuuya completely missed the way that Dazai was no longer staring at the ocean, instead staring directly at Chuuya’s mesmerized face.

Chapter Text

Things didn’t magically get better after Chuuya took Dazai to Santa Monica. If anything, things got worse.

Dazai started returning from filming more and more lethargic. After a couple of days of Chuuya trying to force Dazai to do anything, from watching TV, to playing video games, to even just letting Chuuya run his hands through Dazai’s hair, Dazai snapped.

“Dazai,” Chuuya murmured as he ran his hand up and down Dazai’s back, “What’s up?”

They were lounging on the couch, as was typical whenever Dazai came back from filming. Dazai’s head was buried in a pillow, Chuuya trying to rub some life back into him.

Dazai grumbled.

“What was that?”

Dazai turned his head to the side so Chuuya could hear him properly. “I said to leave me alone.”

Chuuya’s hand stilled, mid-motion. “Huh?” He asked, confused.

“I said to get away from me and go do something else. Go call your band members or something. I don’t want you here.”

Chuuya narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“What I heard was an ungrateful bastard telling me to leave my house,” Chuuya snapped, “Or did I hear you incorrectly? Do you think you live here? Because I’ve been trying to get rid of you for weeks now. There’s nothing stopping you from walking out that door and going the fuck home.”

Dazai lay on the couch motionless.

Chuuya huffed and moved over to his bedroom. He even slammed the door for good measure. What the ever loving fuck has gotten in to Dazai?



Dazai only had a week left of filming. Selfishly, Chuuya could not wait for Dazai to stop playing a mafia boss. At this point, Chuuya despised Shuuji Tsushima with every fiber in his body. He didn’t know what Dazai was going through during filming, but he saw the aftermath. And it was ugly.

By now, Dazai had filled up nearly two notebooks from cover to cover on notes about Shuuji. Whenever Dazai came back from filming completely unresponsive, the only thing that seemed to bring him back down to earth was journaling.

It was toxic, dangerous, and above all else, scared Chuuya to death. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that Dazai’s role was the reason he was getting worse mentally. Why more and more bandages were being wrapped around his arms. Why he was essentially starving himself. Maybe even why he was pushing Chuuya away.

But, god fucking dammit, Chuuya really did care about the glorified mummy. Why couldn’t he see that and let Chuuya in? Was there something that Chuuya was doing wrong?

Did Dazai know about his crush?

Was Dazai shutting himself out because he knew that Chuuya was actually falling for him, and this was his subtle way of rejecting Chuuya’s feelings?

This past week had comprised of way too many fucking mind games. From trying to cook meals for Dazai ahead of time so he could force Dazai to eat. To trying to read every single flicker of emotion that crossed Dazai’s face as he was writing so Chuuya could decipher what was truly going on. The last thing Chuuya needed was to worry about a confession. Not now.

Things were starting to get tense with their music careers too. Dazai and Chuuya hadn’t finished editing the song because Dazai was far too depressed to even look at suggestions Chuuya made.

 And, on top of that, they hadn’t been seen in the public eye for over two weeks. Fans were starting to speculate that things weren’t as perfect as their tweets seemed to indicate. It wouldn’t be much longer until gossip magazines started spreading rumors. Ugh.

But Chuuya really didn’t know what the fuck to do.

Every time he asked Dazai even the simplest of questions he felt like he was walking on eggshells. That one wrong question could set Dazai off in ways which terrified Chuuya.

He couldn’t sit Dazai down and ask what the fuck was up. Even though they had gotten closer, Dazai has still refused to open up about his past. And now was definitely not the time to try and open up that box.

They started to fight over simple things, too. Chuuya asking if Dazai wanted water or alcohol for dinner usually ended in a shouting match circling around how Dazai couldn’t take care of himself and how Chuuya would much rather prefer him dead.

Even though it was an empty threat, Chuuya is almost positive that if they were to start talking about Dazai’s past, Dazai would push his buttons in just the right way to make him say something he would truly regret.

Chuuya was just trying to get through the week making sure that Dazai was alive.

At least they had a “date” scheduled for Saturday night. Maybe by that time Dazai would perk up.



It took a while for Dazai to feel safe during dinner. When they first sat down, Dazai’s eyes kept darting every which way. His side of the conversation was lacking, only offering clipped and short answers.

Once their waiter took their orders, Chuuya reached forward and rested his hand on top of Dazai’s. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on Dazai's knuckles.

“Dazai,” Chuuya murmured so only he could hear. “I don’t know what’s gotten you so on edge lately, but I promise you everything is okay. Nothing is going to hurt you, or me for that matter. Just, please come back to me.”

Dazai blinked at Chuuya, seemingly absorbing the words that Chuuya just said.

It seemed to work. By the time their waiter returned with their meals, Dazai was talking a lot more, a little of the shine behind his eyes back once again.

For the first time in over two weeks, Chuuya felt himself breathe normally.

After dinner, Dazai suggested a walk through the small downtown area. Which Chuuya could not have agreed to faster. Chuuya wanted nothing more to walk hand-in-hand with Dazai while looking at the quaint little shops.

As they stood up from their seats, Dazai laced his hand with Chuuya’s and tugged him away from the restaurant. Chuuya squeezed Dazai’s hand in appreciation for taking the lead. For coming back. Even if just for tonight.

They didn’t talk much during the walk. Occasionally, Dazai would stop in front of a shop and point to something he saw in the window that made him chuckle. Chuuya smiled every single time. Dazai was finally back to his nonsense rambles.

“Look at this,” Dazai exclaimed, gesturing wildly to a cactus in the window of a flower shop, “It looks just like Chuuya!”


“It’s small and prickly,” Dazai explained.

Chuuya groaned. “Bastard,” he tsked, trying to move Dazai away from the shop before he insulted Chuuya further.

Yet, Dazai remained firmly planted in front of the window. He opened his mouth again, whining, “You didn’t let me finish.”

Chuuya sighed, waving his hand, signaling Dazai to continue. Might as well get the goddamn teasing over with.

“There’s also a red flower blooming, so it’s sweet and soft too,” Dazai said, softer this time, “Two sides. Just like Chuuya.”

Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up. He glanced down at their shoes. All of a sudden, he felt embarrassed at how nonchalantly Dazai could switch from being antagonistic to endearing.

“Bastard,” Chuuya repeated, also a lot softer than before.

After a few more minutes of walking around aimlessly, Chuuya looked up at the sky above him. He noticed that it seemed incredibly dark, especially considering that it was only a little after eight.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya said, breaking their comfortable silence, “Does it feel colder than before?”

Dazai hummed. “I suppose, but I wouldn’t worry your tiny little brain about it.”

Chuuya huffed and squeezed Dazai’s hand as hard as he could. Dazai whimpered, but still had a blinding smile plastered on his face.

A couple more minutes passed and Chuuya swore he felt small drops of water hit his face and roll down his cheeks.

“Dazai,” Chuuya said once more, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”

“Rain?” Dazai repeated, shocked, “Mon petite rockstar, this is California. It doesn’t rain here.”

No less than a minute after Dazai finished speaking it began to rain more noticeably. Big fat raindrops fell at a more consistent rate from the sky and onto Dazai and Chuuya. Chuuya looked down at the pavement and saw the light gray cement turn darker from the rain.

Chuuya yelped and dragged Dazai underneath the nearest awning. Chuuya felt his clothes begin to stick to his body slightly. He was damp and angry. Dammit, this was a really nice outfit.

Chuuya glared at Dazai. “You sure about that?”

Dazai shrugged. “Honest mistake,” he admitted. “But it’s not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Chuuya snarled, “Your clothes won’t get ruined in the rain.”

Dazai chuckled and turned his face towards Chuuya, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. Chuuya raised his eyebrow, confused.

“What?” He asked, feeling a little anxious, “What could you possibly want?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai whispered, low and suggestive, “Do you trust me?”

“Hell fucking no,” Chuuya snapped.

Dazai whined and interlaced both of his hands with Chuuya’s, squeezing them reassuringly.

Chuuya glanced up into Dazai’s big doe-like eyes and couldn’t even stop how quickly he fell for Dazai’s charm.

“Please?” Dazai mumbled.

Dazai almost had Chuuya. Chuuya shook his head, quickly waking himself from the daze that Dazai put him in. There was no way Dazai was going to be outwardly nice unless he wanted something from Chuuya. Or if this was going to end bad for Chuuya. Or most likely both.

“What are you planning?” Chuuya asked, glaring up at Dazai.

“Me?” Dazai asked, huge gasp after his question, “I would never.”

Chuuya sighed. This was just going to go in circles until he inevitably gave in. Seriously, Dazai was the fucking worst.

“Alright, fine, you sleazy bastard,” Chuuya said, “I trust you.”

Dazai beamed down at Chuuya, and with their hands still interlaced took a few steps backwards, tugging Chuuya along with him. Dazai kept his eyes locked with Chuuya’s as he moved back past the awning and into the splash of the rain around him. Chuuya’s eyes widened in realization and he quickly tried to squirm away. Dazai chuckled, but nonetheless tightened his grip on Chuuya’s hands so he couldn’t escape.

Chuuya hissed at the contact of cold water rolling down the brim of his hat and falling onto his cheeks. Slowly, Chuuya felt the crisp lines of his freshly cleaned jacket, shirt, and pants soften to mush. The rain seeped through every layer and left him feeling like a drenched rat.

“What the fuck,” Chuuya screamed over the rain’s deafening pattering against the concrete.

Dazai laughed hard. Chuuya did not understand how Dazai switched from on guard to completely carefree in a matter of hours. Especially considering he looked just as bad as Chuuya. He should not be laughing right now.

Dazai’s hair was plastered to his face, bangs falling in front of his eyes so that Chuuya could barely see his brown irises. And his clothes were just as worse for wear. Not that Dazai cared. Because he was a fucking asshole.

Angry, Chuuya used the leverage of their hands still clasped and began to punch Dazai’s chest. “You bastard,” he yelled. “This is goddamn designer!”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said between laughs, seemingly unbothered by the abuse.

“No,” Chuuya retorted, continuing to try and beat the shit out of Dazai, given his limited range.

Dazai laughed harder and squeezed Chuuya’s hands tight, putting an end to the torment. To make sure Chuuya couldn’t retaliate further, Dazai pinned their hands against his own chest.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, “Relax, I just thought this would be fun. Dancing in the rain like there’s not a care in the world.”

Chuuya huffed. “That’s rich coming from you. Besides, we are not dancing and there’s no music.”

Dazai raised his eyebrow, challengingly. “There’s two Grammy award winner singers right here. I think we could figure it out.”

Chuuya groaned. There wasn’t anyone watching them. What the fuck was Dazai trying to get out of this little stunt?

He was about to protest, but then Chuuya registered how close he was to Dazai. His hands could feel the rise and fall of Dazai’s chest. Dazai’s heart was beating quicker than usual, as if he was anxious about the words he had just said. As if he were anticipating Chuuya’s response. As if he truly didn’t want Chuuya to reject his proposal.

And, fuck it, what the hell? If Dazai was making himself vulnerable for Chuuya, then Chuuya could actually trust Dazai. Even for a couple minutes. Maybe it would be fun.

Chuuya slipped one of his hands out of Dazai’s grip and rested it on his shoulder. Dazai smiled down at Chuuya and rested his free hand on Chuuya’s waist. Their conjoined hands were now off to the side, Dazai easily taking the lead. Chuuya could even feel a genuine smile creeping up on his face.

He also knew the perfect song to sing. After all, Chuuya did promise that he would sing it for Dazai some time. And no one had ever heard a version quite like this before.

Chuuya cleared his throat before singing, “Even today everyone is crying.”

Dazai’s eyes widened in acknowledgement. His smile turned softer, and his movements leading them throughout the impromptu dance slowed down.

Chuuya continued singing. Dazai only hummed along with Chuuya, backing him up, until the chorus.

As Chuuya began to sing, “Oh Rain Beat, can you see me?” Dazai finally vocalized part of the song. Their voices intermingled together perfectly. Dazai sang lower than usual in order for Chuuya’s voice to shine more.

Dazai continued to sing throughout the entirety of Rain Beat.

About halfway through the song, however, Dazai and Chuuya subconsciously adjusted their bodies so the top Chuuya’s head was resting on Dazai’s shoulder. Dazai’s arms were now wrapped tight around Chuuya’s waist, while Chuuya’s arms were wrapped around Dazai’s neck. Instead of elaborate foot sequences, they were rocking from side to side, enjoying the ease of singing together.

After Dazai and Chuuya sang the final line of the song, Dazai tightened his grip around Chuuya even more. And that was the only warning Chuuya got before Dazai picked him up off his feet and swung him around carelessly. Chuuya could barely stop the bubble of laughter from spilling out of his mouth.

For once, as he was being spun around, Chuuya could actually look down at Dazai. He felt like a god.

“You are such an idiot,” Chuuya yelled, weightlessness making him feel giddy.

“Yeah, an idiot who really wants to kiss you,” Dazai replied, slowing down their movements so they were standing still.

“Those two things don’t correlate,” Chuuya retorted, hands gripping Dazai’s shoulders, still hoisted slightly above Dazai.

“Is that a no?” Dazai asked, slowly lowering Chuuya back down until his feet touched the ground.

“I didn’t say that,” Chuuya pointed out, his grip on Dazai’s shoulders making it easy to pull the other man down so their lips were hovering over each other’s.

“Can I kiss you, then?” Dazai asked, even though he pressed a soft peck to Chuuya’s lips directly after he finished speaking, before Chuuya gave him a formal response.

Chuuya rolled his eyes and captured Dazai’s lips between his own.

It was a weird feeling. Kissing Dazai as rain rolled down his cheeks and mingled with their lips. Sure, it made sliding their lips easier, but it also felt like Chuuya was swallowing more water than Dazai.

Chuuya only parted from Dazai’s intoxicating mouth when he felt a harsh bright light engulf his entire body, blinding him even though his eyes were shut.

Dazai craned his head to look behind him and sighed, pulling Chuuya forward. “That’s our ride,” he said.

Oh, that did very much look like a car’s headlights. Chuuya followed Dazai’s lead as they scrambled into the car, away from the rain.

Once they made it back to Chuuya’s place, Chuuya basically forced Dazai to strip off his wet and slimy outfit so he could take their combined clothes and dry them somewhat properly. In the meantime, Dazai got ready for bed and curled up under Chuuya’s covers.

When Chuuya finally made his way to bed, he was surprised that Dazai wrapped his arms tight around Chuuya and snuggled up against him.

“I’m freezing,” Dazai mumbled, as he nestled his head on Chuuya’s chest, his breathing already beginning to even out.

And, what the hell. This night was already strange enough. Chuuya could allow the invisible line drawn on his bed to be crossed. He was pretty chilled too, and Dazai was very, very comfortable. Surely one night of domestic cuddling couldn’t kill them.




kelsey @hisoukoku – 1h

tell me i’m not hallucinating and this is dazai and chuuya outside my mom’s store ?????



you’re in my heart @dazai--san – 1h



#doubleblackisaliveparty @dasai – 1h

This blurry video singlehandedly saved my life HOW did you take that and WHY are they dancing hjfhuu


deadly drive; @chuuyaisbae – 1h

hey so like osamu and chuuya are still in love and that’s just the tea




Chuuya woke up in the middle of the night. His groggy mind wasn’t completely sure why he was awake in the first place. He groaned and rolled over, so his face was buried in the sheets beneath him, trying to fall right back asleep. Subconsciously Chuuya reached out to his side. He swore that he fell asleep with something warm right there...

Chuuya’s eyes snapped open once he figured out what was missing. Dazai.

With sluggish moments, Chuuya sat up and ran his hand through his hair. Well that dried awful. He’s going to have to take a shower when he properly wakes up.

“Dazai?” Chuuya asked to nothingness.

No response. Fucking typical.

Chuuya grumbled and pulled himself out of bed. His bare feet touched the cool wood underneath and he almost shivered at the contact. Ugh. Dazai better be fucking dead or something. There was no reason Chuuya should be awake and looking for this bastard.

Chuuya padded through his apartment, destination already determined. There was only one place Dazai would go. He made his way over to the makeshift studio on the other side. Chuuya didn’t even bother knocking when he turned the doorknob to peek inside.

Dazai was sat at the piano, his back facing Chuuya. He was sat up straight, so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t hear the door creak open. And then Chuuya fully processed Dazai was doing.

He was playing their song.

And it was complete.

More so, it sounded beautiful.

Chuuya had to physically hold himself back from gasping while watching Dazai hard at work. He couldn’t help but wonder where this sudden rush of inspiration had come from. Especially considering Dazai had been so out of it lately. Dazai probably hadn’t even thought about music in weeks. Chuuya slipped inside the studio and closed the door behind him softly, as to not disrupt Dazai from his trance.

There was a rhythmic rise and fall from all the notes, flowing together. If Chuuya had to metamorphize the song into any type of imagery, he would say it sounded like fire and water fighting for dominance. At first fire dances over water, evaporating it, but then water extinguishes the flame.

It was a constant push and pull. A constant uphill battle. Chuuya couldn’t help but smile to himself, it’s almost like he could hear his bickering with Dazai through the composition.

After a few minutes of watching silently, Chuuya made his way to sit next to Dazai. He had the revised melody down at this point.

Only when there was a slight puff of air from the cushion under Chuuya, did Dazai notice that he had a companion. Chuuya smiled sheepishly at Dazai but said no more. Dazai’s eyes were wide, like a deer caught in a car's headlights. Chuuya disregarded the sudden shyness and brought his hands up to the piano.

Dazai took the cue and began to play the opening chords of the song. Chuuya picked up quickly. His own fingers added a deeper tone to Dazai’s part. He even occasionally added a few riffs here and there, which Dazai smiled in approval at.

Their hands only brushed a couple times, and each time Chuuya felt his heart beat a little harder in his chest. He had long forgotten that he was woken up at fuck only knows in the morning. Chuuya felt alive.

It felt like the song ended far sooner than Chuuya was used to. Before he knew it, Dazai was playing repeating notes that signaled for the music to fade out.

Dazai turned to Chuuya and smiled shyly at him. “Sorry,” he said, “Did I wake you up?”

“No, you’re good,” Chuuya replied.

“Did you like it?” Dazai asked. “I was going to show you in the morning, but you beat me to it.”

Chuuya’s heart fluttered. This was meant to be a surprise?

“Yeah, I really liked it,” Chuuya said. “If I could make one suggestion, though?”

Dazai nodded and waved at the piano for Chuuya to have full reign.

“Right before the key change you play this,” Chuuya explained while putting his hands in the vague position where he thought he remembered Dazai’s hands hovering over. “But you could make it flow a little smoother.”

Dazai tutted and placed his hands over Chuuya’s. He wrapped their fingers together and adjusted the position to a few keys over, so Chuuya was technically correct.

Chuuya twisted around a little so he was staring at Dazai straight on.

Dazai shrugged. “You were slightly off,” he explained. Not daring to let go of Chuuya’s hands.

Chuuya nodded. “Thanks.”

As if gravity brought them together, Chuuya found himself leaning in close to Dazai. Dazai followed suit. Their lips brushed together, closing the distance entirely.

It was an awkward start. The right side of Chuuya’s body was pressed tight against Dazai’s, his neck angled too sharply. Chuuya’s arms were also half wrapped around himself from Dazai’s current hold on him. He wanted nothing more to be able to wrap his arms around Dazai and pull him closer.

As if reading Chuuya’s unspoken wishes, Dazai adjusted. From Dazai’s current position, it was easy to wrap his arms around Chuuya’s slim waist. Chuuya felt the grip around his hands vanish, so he quickly moved his hands to rest on Dazai’s shoulders. This slight change in position fixed how their lips slotted together and helped deepen the kiss.

Only when Chuuya began to feel breathless did he part from Dazai’s lips. Their eyes fluttered open at the same time and Dazai flashed Chuuya a small smile.

But something didn’t sit right with Chuuya. His heart was pounding within his chest faster than ever before. This kiss was so unlike the ones they shared in public. It felt like... something more. It even felt more intense than the one they shared on the couch a few months ago. And he didn’t know if he was fabricating it all.

Chuuya really didn’t want to admit his feelings to Dazai, but he had to know. He had to know that everything wasn’t inside his head. That these kisses, these “dates,” these moments they shared, whether intimate or over text, meant as much to Dazai as it meant to Chuuya.

Chuuya was terrified. He really didn’t want to ask Dazai at such a fragile time in his mental headspace. But fuck it. Chuuya had a right to be selfish. Chuuya had a right to know if they could ever be something real.

“Dazai,” he started, barely above a whisper, “What are we doing?”

Dazai scrunched his eyebrows, lost in thought.

“What do you mean? This doesn’t mean anything,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Chuuya felt his heart drop. It practically stopped beating.

Of course.

This was all pretend. They weren’t really dating. That’s what Dazai said on the couch, right? That this kissing was all for practice?

How could Chuuya be so naïve to think that they could be anything more?

It’s like he kept telling himself late at night: he didn’t like Dazai. And Dazai didn’t like him. They were using each other.

That was it.

And yet, whenever they were together, Chuuya couldn’t stop those thoughts from escaping his mind with ease. He really did like Dazai more than he was comfortable to verbally admit.

Now, it seemed that he needed to crush those feelings.

Luckily, Chuuya schooled his features enough that the inner turmoil he was experiencing wasn’t apparent to Dazai. He slid his hands down Dazai’s chest and used the new vantage point to push himself up from the piano bench.

Chuuya nodded. “Right,” he said, holding out his hand to Dazai. “Well, then, are you coming back to bed, or what?”

“Give me a few minutes,” Dazai replied, turning back around to the piano. Chuuya stared at Dazai’s back. It looked like he was sitting stiffer than from when Chuuya first entered.

“I just want to write in the additions and comments you had.”

Chuuya’s arm fell limp by his side and nodded again, knowing full well that Dazai couldn’t see him. He didn’t trust his voice to speak without wavering. Chuuya exited the studio, made his way through the apartment, entered his bedroom, and crawled under the covers.

It felt colder than when he originally left to look for Dazai.

Chuuya tossed and turned for what felt like hours. In reality it was probably only thirty minutes until Dazai re-entered the bedroom. Chuuya stilled his movements completely and snapped his eyes shut, all to pretend he was asleep.

He felt the bed dip and heard the tell-tale sound of rustling covers, signaling Dazai had slipped underneath. This time Dazai didn’t wrap his arms around Chuuya.

And why would he?

They weren’t cold and wet anymore. They didn’t need each other for warmth. They didn’t need each other in general.

He supposed Dazai was right. This thing between them really didn’t mean anything. And Dazai was an actor now. Of course, he was good at pretending. Had he been pretending during their private meetings too?

God, Chuuya felt like such an idiot.

Why did he let himself believe that, for even a second, what they had was real?

“Chuuya?” Dazai asked, his voice soft.

Chuuya didn’t dare answer. He tried evening out his breathing and calming down his aching heart so Dazai couldn’t tell he was ignoring him.

It seemed to work, since Dazai turned on his side, back facing Chuuya.

“Goodnight,” Dazai whispered, more to himself than anyone in general.


For the first time since Chuuya had met Dazai he woke up to a silent phone, void of any good morning text, and an empty kitchen, coffee cup and post-it note nowhere in sight.

In fact, every little trace of Dazai seemed to vanish. His limited amount of clothes he brought over once he started spending the night. His three favorite books. His two journals. His old scripts. His bandages. Even the plushie sheep that Dazai snuggled with every once and a while. All gone.

Chuuya barely left the studio all day for fear that he was going to use his rage, and hurt, and sorrow in a way that wouldn’t be considered productive.

Chapter Text

osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 3w

andddd that’s a wrap~ HUGE thank you to everyone who went on this journey with me ( /)w(\✿) i look forward to when everyone can see stray dogs!!



            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3w

            @nolongerhuman Congratulations! I’m so proud of you! Dinner soon? :)


Daily Osamu Dazai Pictures @dailydazai – 3w

Osamu Dazai with various members of the “Stray Dogs” cast during their last day together on set.

[image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg]


passion; @akutagawas – 2w

hey so like where tf are double black’s dinner pics ??? did I miss something lmao


nakahara nation @boudledlack – 2w

I forgot what it is like to live in a pre-dazai-dating-chuuya world bc WE NEVER GET ANY NEW CHUUYA CONTENT EVER !!!BITCH!!!


( ̄。 ̄)~zzz @julialovesdazai – 2w

I’m not the only one who is completely confused where tf dazai and chuuya went right?


Slug~ @safechuuya – 1w

Hey so like what do we do if Osamu and Chuuya broke up? Like what if this why they’re MIA?


double black is alive @tachihara-and-gin – 1w

you: dazai and chuuya broke up and want time to adjust to their new lives

me, and intellectual: this is the first time dazai and chuuya don’t have to deal with dazai’s filming schedule so they’re probably having some rockin sex


Daily Chuuya Nakahara Pictures @dailychuuya – 1d

Chuuya Nakahara spotted for the first time in over two weeks. He was seen jogging around a local park near Los Angeles.

[image.jpg] [image.jpg]



The past three weeks were bad. Chuuya had barely left his house. Only alternating between writing, eating, and sleeping. At least he was being productive, though.

That wasn’t necessarily the case the first night Chuuya was alone after a month of having Dazai practically glued to his side. Chuuya had tried to convince himself that he was blowing things way out of proportion.

But, somehow, Chuuya found himself drinking straight out of the bottle from one his nicest wines. An 1889 Petrus, damned if he was saving it for a special occasion. It was one of his oldest aged wines meaning that the alcoholic content should be enough to get him drunk and fast.

There was a small voice in the back of Chuuya’s head reminding him that drinking too much alone was what got him into this mess in the first place. However, it was easy to tune out that voice after a couple long sips. Mind already becoming hazy and numb.

Chuuya thanked every god he could possible think of that when he woke up there were no outrageous notifications waiting on his lockscreen. The only thing Chuuya found was a note from his drunk-self to his sober-self with a few lines for what looked to be a song. Chuuya had no recollection of such lyrics coming to him, but he was instantly inspired.

After that, Chuuya spent most of his time inside. Spending nearly twenty days working day and night, trying to throw all of his emotions into something which he could be proud of.

He even sent a demo to Kouyou for approval. Chuuya had no idea what he was going to do with the song. If he should even release it, since it was almost entirely in Japanese and he didn’t release songs like that anymore. Nonetheless, it helped him cope.

It really shouldn’t have been that big of a surprise when Kouyou brought up the past few weeks to Chuuya during their quarter-annual meeting.

“What’s going on, lad?” Kouyou asked, softer than before. All formalities were thrown out the window. This wasn’t Chuuya talking to his manager. This was Chuuya talking to an old friend.

“What do you mean?” Chuuya inquired.

“Well for starters I haven’t heard from you in weeks,” Kouyou said, “And then the first thing I do hear from you is a song that sounds like it has been personally stripped from your heart.”

“Did you not like it, then?” Chuuya asked, trying to avoid the true intent of this conversation.

Kouyou sighed. “I actually loved it. I haven’t heard that raw sense of pain from you in years.”

Chuuya nodded, awkwardly clasping his hands together. He knew that Kouyou wanted him to open up on his own, not have her pry. But he really didn’t want to talk.

After a couple minutes of silence, Kouyou was fed up.

“Is this about Dazai?” She asked, getting right to heart of the issue, not bothering to give Chuuya an option anymore.

Once again, Chuuya didn’t respond. But his visible tensing made it obvious that she had been spot on with her analysis.

“You haven’t been out with him in weeks, did something happen? Did he do something that caused you to spiral?”

“I haven’t been that bad,” Chuuya pointed out, breaking his silence. “Not that it fucking matters. I’m not dating Dazai, he’s allowed to have his own personal life.”

“Sure, lad,” Kouyou said, unconvinced, “But you do have a public appearance to uphold. Since you’re saying you’re dating Dazai-kun, you must keep it up for everyone’s sake.”

“Public appearance, my ass,” Chuuya snarled, “When was the last time Dazai and I did anything? He hasn’t talked to me in almost three weeks.”

Kouyou didn’t say anything. Chuuya scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He has not been keeping track, dammit.

“Not that I care,” he mumbled as an afterthought.

Kouyou snorted. “Right.”

“I don’t,” Chuuya snapped.

“You denying it further is only going to make me believe you less and less.”

Chuuya groaned. “Whatever.”

Kouyou raised her eyebrow, not believing a word Chuuya just said. But she seemed to know when a fight was over. She wasn’t stupid, she knew how stubborn Chuuya could be.

“Can you at least promise me you will try to take better care of yourself? Maybe go out with a couple friends, that would be good for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya sighed, “I promise.”



Chuuya slammed down his umpteenth shot in the past hour.

Chuuya didn’t even like hard liquor that much, especially having to gulp it down, but shots seemed to be the only thing they offered at this bar. This party wasn’t nearly as high-end as he preferred. But, hey, beggars can’t be choosers, he supposed.

Tachihara invited him, Gin, and Higuchi to some album release party for some American boyband. Chuuya had never heard of them before, had only met them earlier this evening. Three boys named Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer, and Huckleberry Fin. They seemed nice, and Chuuya had wished them success.

Mainly so he could excuse himself to the bar and get as trashed as he wanted. Especially since he wasn’t spending his own money. An added bonus, really.

It wasn’t entirely Chuuya’s fault that he was drinking like his life depended on it. As soon as he and Black Lizard walked into the ballroom, completely decorated in the boyband’s signature colors, Chuuya’s eyes caught sight of crab cakes on the endless amount of waiter’s trays.

Immediately Chuuya felt his heart lurch into his throat. Ever since he slaved over his kitchen stove to create Dazai the perfect dish, every sight of crab, scent of buttery shellfish, and even blinding red color reminded Chuuya of that night.

Right as he thought he had his emotions under control, Chuuya heard the loud speakers all around play one of Dazai’s songs. One of his more painfully beautiful songs too.

You’re in my heart. It seems like it’ll burst. I’ve never known eagerness like this before. I wanna stay together.

Whatever has happened, my heart will only chase after you.

It almost felt like the fucking lines were fucking taunting him.

Guess he was a lot more of a wreck than he initially thought he was.

Before the song was even halfway over, Chuuya had knocked back two shots of vodka. He wanted to order whiskey, but then he remembered Dazai really enjoyed whiskey. Everything, everywhere, constantly reminded Chuuya of Dazai.

It was fucking exhausting.

He wanted to forget, for at least one night, that his stupid crush hadn’t cost him someone who he considered very important to his life. Feeling something like that was simply not allowed.

So, Chuuya was drinking.

Fuck, there is nothing he would rather do than take someone home. At least that would get his mind off of Dazai for a couple more hours.

Chuuya flexed his hand over his now empty shot glass. He gripped it loosely and waved the bartender over for another round. After the bartender poured him more vodka, and right as Chuuya was about to lift the alcohol to his lips, he felt someone slide up next to him.

He side eyed his new partner, and the man just smiled back in response.

“Now what’s a delicious looking man, such as yourself, doing all alone at a bar like this?” He purred. Light Russian accent. Obviously cocky.

Chuuya snorted and downed his shot instantly, no regards to how rude that may have looked. He didn’t give a shit. He slammed the small glass down against the bar top. What a cheesy fucking line. But, he had been just wishing for a man to fuck. And well...

Chuuya actually ran his eyes up and down the man in front of him. Ugh, no, everything was wrong. First off, he was far shorter than Chuuya would have preferred, maybe a couple inches taller than Chuuya. Secondly, his eyes were just a couple shades of brown too light, almost honey colored rather than an ideal amber in which he could swim in for days. Finally, the hair was all wrong. Chuuya wasn’t really into blonds. He was more of a sucker for dark brunettes.

“Not interested,” Chuuya huffed, turning his gaze so he could once again catch the attention of the bartender.

The other man opened his mouth, assumingly to say something stupid and needy, but Chuuya cut him off before he could utter a word. “Besides, I have a boyfriend. Now scram, Russian boy.”

The man closed his mouth and sauntered off.



A few days later, Chuuya could not have been more surprised to wake up to an unread text from Dazai. He thought that their relationship was pretty much non-existent at this point.


[Mackerel]: good morning chibi~

[Mackerel]: can i still take you up on that dinner offer?


[Me]: That wasn’t an offer to pay you bastard. I only tweeted that because I had to


[Mackerel]: sooo yes to dinner but no to paying


[Me]: Sure


[Mackerel]: but chuuuuuya

[Mackerel]: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥)

[Mackerel]: i’m so poor

[Mackerel]: pls just wine and dine me


[Me]: Wine and dine yourself


[Mackerel]: (⊙ω⊙✿)

[Mackerel]: fine

[Mackerel]: tonight at 7?


Right as Chuuya type out his agreement, his finger stilled over the send button. Could he really handle being in Dazai’s presence for a couple hours, just the two of them, talking and pretending that everything was alright?


[Me]: Could we see a movie instead?

[Me]: There’s one I really want to see


[Mackerel]: hm~~

[Mackerel]: the point of these dates are so that people could see us

[Mackerel]: or is chuuya trying to avoid me


Chuuya froze. Fuck.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to internally come up with a good enough excuse to why he wanted to see a movie with Dazai. He didn’t really anticipate that Dazai would think anything of it.


[Mackerel]: jk

[Mackerel]: i understand

[Mackerel]: u want to be alone with me in a dark theater

[Mackerel]: i'm irresistible ik


[Me]: Just take me to a damn movie Dazai


They settled on a compromise. Dazai still really wanted to go to dinner, and while Chuuya would rather die than sit alone with Dazai in a dark restaurant, he agreed to pizza at a local bistro. And then Dazai would take Chuuya to a movie. Chuuya didn’t actually know what the fuck was playing in the theaters right now, so he had to scrounger through the movie theater’s website to pick something appropriate.

Saying that Chuuya was nervous for this “date” was the biggest understatement of the year. As opposed to everything in the past, he really didn’t know how to approach Dazai. He knew that it was his fault for compromising his relationship with Dazai. But that didn’t mean Chuuya knew if it was a good idea to directly apologize. Or maybe he should just pretend that nothing had happened.

Obviously, Chuuya preferred the latter since that meant not having to make things awkward by bringing up events which happened weeks ago. But it didn’t feel right to not talk to Dazai about something that really bothered him. Above all else, Chuuya was furious with himself for allowing Dazai to become one of his major support systems. And now he was gone.

Chuuya was fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he waited for Dazai. He was wearing a navy-blue shirt, unbuttoned, over top a plain white shirt, adorned with a black hat, black choker, and black gloves. The white shirt was tucked into a pair of black jeans, while the blue over-shirt was left hanging loose and open.

By the time Dazai showed up to pick him up from his apartment, Chuuya was convinced that they weren’t going to make their movie. Hopefully dinner wrapped up quickly and they could still catch it.

Chuuya met Dazai downstairs and saw the other man leaning against the black car. Dazai was wearing a long sleeve marron shirt tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans. Dazai barely lifted his head in acknowledgment as Chuuya walked the entire distance to meet Dazai.

“Long time no see,” Dazai said, huge fake smile plastered on his face.

Chuuya clenched his jaw. As if that were his fault. As if it wasn’t Dazai who left him alone in his apartment. As if it was somehow Chuuya that cut Dazai out of his life, and not the other way around.

He had to physically hold himself back from chewing Dazai out right there and then.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Chuuya grumbled, pushing past Dazai and sliding into the car. He could practically feel the tension weighing down on him and causing him to choke during the car ride. Chuuya didn’t even open his mouth for the duration of their travel.

Dinner was just as awkward to say the least. Chuuya tried to make jokes and tried to engage Dazai in conversation, but it was obvious that they both weren’t all the way there. And it’s not like Dazai was helping aid the conversation. He barely spoke to Chuuya, much more intrigued with poking at his pizza with a fork and knife.

Chuuya decided, as they made their way to their seats, that the best course of action was to just ignore whatever the fuck happened, going on as if they were a happy couple. He didn’t want Dazai to feel like he owed Chuuya anything, since it was obvious he didn’t care about Chuuya in the same way. They didn’t have to be friends, or anything. Just fulfill this bullshit. This was painful.

Chuuya was rambling about something, half drunk, when Dazai finally had enough.

“Can we just cut the shit?” He asked, cutting Chuuya off mid-sentence.

Chuuya blinked at Dazai, dazed and confused. “About,” he said, trailing off, hoping Dazai would finish speaking.

“About this,” he said gesturing between them. “I think you know that I don’t like you in the same way. So, can we just agree to meet once a week for dinners, take a couple pictures, and then leave.”

Chuuya practically cracked the wine glass he was gripping out of pure astonishment at the boldness of Dazai’s words. Out of pure hatred for the man sitting in front of him.

“You asked me out,” he snarled. “I’m doing what you’re supposed to do on a date.”

“I asked you to dinner.” Dazai pointed out, “I didn’t ask for all the pleasantries or whatever you’re trying to do.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Chuuya practically screamed. The only reason he reigned himself in, even if just slightly, was due to the fact that they were in a public restaurant. The fucking audacity Dazai had to have this kind of discussion where anyone could hear them.

“I’m just trying to do my job,” Dazai said with a shrug.

“So, everything up to this point was for your job?” Chuuya retorted, “All the flirting, all the kissing, all the talks we had? How the fuck can you look me in the eyes and say that?”

“I told you, that was for practice. I didn’t think you would actually fall in love with me.”

Chuuya didn’t even register that he stood up from the table, chair making a horrendous scratching and screeching sound behind him. A couple nearby patrons were obviously listening in.

This was so unlike all of their previous teasing. This felt like Dazai was trying to cut deep by exposing something incredibly personal to Chuuya.

“Excuse me,” Chuuya said, placing the wine glass gently on the table. The gentle motion completely contrasting the violent sound of the chair.

The whole restaurant was practically silent by the time by the time Chuuya turned his back to Dazai and made his way to the bathroom.

Chuuya slammed the door shut and leaned his back against said door. He quickly calmed down his breathing. There was no way in fucking hell he was in love with Dazai. That was way too far.

Rationally, Chuuya knew that Dazai was riling Chuuya up. That he was most likely trying to push Chuuya away for some sick and twisted reason he couldn’t fully comprehend in his overly wound-up, far too emotional state. But Chuuya couldn’t convince himself that his brain’s rationale was right. Not when his heart hurt this bad. Chuuya decided to trust his emotions with where to go next.

If Dazai wanted to treat this as another work engagement, that was fine. Chuuya could do that. He could act like a good boyfriend.

It didn’t take long for him to compose himself once more and return to his table. As Chuuya was walking back, he saw Dazai ask for the check, easily denying to box up the leftovers and signing for their food.

“Ready to go?” Dazai asked, standing up to meet Chuuya.

Chuuya nodded. Dazai didn’t say anymore, taking Chuuya’s hand within his own and leading them out of the worst dinner of Chuuya’s life. When they made their way out of the restaurant, Chuuya wasn’t surprised to see dozens of cameramen.

He was surprised, however, when Dazai leaned in close and whispered in Chuuya’s ear, “Can I kiss you?”

Chuuya stared at Dazai as if he were looking at a cryptid. Confused that something could possibly exist. Instead of verbally responding, Chuuya shrugged out of Dazai’s personal space, and then dragged Dazai behind him by their conjoined hands. Like hell he was going to kiss Dazai right now.


They didn’t end up going to the movie. Chuuya asking if he could go home than be with Dazai for another minute.




Are Double Black No More?

Written by: Ranpo Edogawa


Welcome to my insight on the rise and fall of Chuuya Nakahara and Osamu Dazai’s star-crossed relationship.

For anyone who does not know who Nakahara and Dazai are, here is some context. Seven years ago, at the age of 15, Nakahara and Dazai made their individual debuts in Japan. Ever since then, the two have constantly been competing for the number one spot in Japan. And more recently, the same spot in America.

Nakahara is originally from Tokyo, Japan. He met his current mentor and longtime friend, Kouyou Ozaki, at the age of fourteen during a call-out. Ozaki was looking for someone with a wide range of talent, and Nakahara fit the description. At the time he could play piano, guitar, and the bass. Since then he has also perfected his ability on the drums. Ozaki has been managing Nakahara ever since, under Ougai Mori’s label, The Port.

Nakahara released his first single “Darkness my Sorrow” which was a rock song, distinguishable by its long and sensual guitar riffs and Nakahara’s easy flowing and dynamic voice. It was an instant hit, charting number one for nearly a month.

The reason Nakahara’s single fell off the number one spot in Japan was due to, his now rival, Dazai’s debut.

Dazai is originally from Yokohama, Japan. While it is unclear how Dazai met his current manager, Doppo Kunikida, the two have always been working underneath Yukichi Fukazawa’s label, Armed Agency. Interestingly enough, there were rumors that Dazai originally met with Mori’s label before settling into his forever home with Fukazawa.

Dazai has always been considered a musical genius. He claims that he has been playing the piano since the age of two, performing at three, and learning how to sing and songwrite by four.

The song which knocked Nakahara from the top spot was “Eien Misui ni Goodbye” (since been re-sung and re-released in English, dubbed “Double Suicide”). This particular song highlighted Dazai’s musical talent, focusing on a prominent piano line with an upbeat and smooth voice, to juxtapose the lyrics and true meaning of the song.

It is unclear whether Dazai and Nakahara met or knew each other during their auditioning days, but, to me, that seems rather unlikely. Personally, it seems as though both singers have big prides, whether they choose to admit it or not. Each wants to be at the top, and they will do anything to knock the other off his pedestal. That is where the rivalry began.

The first public interaction of Dazai and Nakahara was during the Japan Record Awards, Japan’s major music award show. Both Dazai and Nakahara were nominated for Best New Artist Award, Best Album Award, and Japan Record Award. Incredibly impressive at the age of 15.

Nakahara walked away with Best New Artist Award. Whereas Dazai walked away with Best Album Award. Neither won Japan Record Award.

However, what makes this event so significant is how they acted off broadcasting cameras. The following pictures were all taken from Twitter users, appropriately credited within each image.


Pictured above: Dazai taunting Nakahara with childish faces and poses.


Pictured above: Nakahara shaking Dazai’s hand, in what seems to be a peace offering.


Pictured above: Nakahara throwing a punch at Dazai after learning that Dazai was the reason for his hat’s mysterious disappearance during the after party.


Pictured above: Dazai’s tweet congratulating Chuuya on his excellent aim and excellent voice. Underneath the tweet is the photo Dazai attached of himself with a blackeye.

Over the years, their relationship seemed to become less physically aggressive. Especially after each moved to Los Angeles, at age 18, and began to integrate themselves within the American music industry. While still competitive, it is nowhere near as nasty and stressful as the Asian music industry.

I believe that this is where Dazai and Nakahara started to gain an appreciation for each other as artists, acknowledging the other’s talent. However, still not meeting in person for fear of more taunting, teasing, and roughhousing. Only now have they began to meet-up in person.

Now, is also when the timeline begins to get murkier. Publicly, Nakahara tweeted about how much he loved Dazai’s voice. Soon after, the two met to work on a song. Even more soon after, they announced they were dating.

It seems as though this started as a publicity stunt. Not that either needed a boost in popularity, but more as a way to improve public personality. Nakahara constantly tweeting and caught on camera intoxicated was starting to take a hit to his image. Likewise, with Dazai’s image of being a “womanizer,” constantly shamed by past lovers saying all he wanted was sex and a double suicide, even though he promised them more.

While their relationship may have started as a publicity stunt, that does not seem to be the reason why there is obvious tension between the two as of late.


Pictured above: Nakahara shrugging out of Dazai’s grip, twisting his head to the side in order to avoid a kiss.

From multiple images of Nakahara rejecting Dazai’s affections, it is my theory that while it may have started as a stunt, Dazai truly fell for Nakahara. Dazai most likely confessed his feelings to Nakahara, but Nakahara could not look past the rotten things Dazai had pulled in the past, and denied his crush.

As a result, things are tense because they need to finish out their contract, but neither knows what to do. It is my belief that the two will be broken up by the year’s end.

However, while it is doubtful, I may be incorrect. Let me know what you think about Dazai and Nakahara’s relationship. Is it real and they have just hit a rough patch or fake and over the top?

[read 999+ comments]



The crash of waves, Chuuya decided, would always calm his scattered thoughts.

There was something so soothing about seeing such a powerful force, waves stronger than he could ever imagine, hit the immoveable beach. The fury at which the waves relentlessly slammed into the white sand was gorgeous. It was also comforting to know that the Pacific Ocean was the only thing separating him from Japan.

Chuuya wasn’t necessarily a sentimental person, but it helped stabilize him. He remembered when he first came to Los Angeles, how scary everything was. While he knew English, it would never come to him as naturally as Japanese did. Just being able to drive himself out to the one place which was as physically close to Japan as possible was the initial appeal of buying a motorcycle. He wanted freedom. To not feel constrained by his new home.

Sometimes he wondered if the waves crashing into this shore were a product of waves circling from Japan’s many ports. He liked to believe so.

Chuuya was sat on the beach, his feet just skimming past the tidal line. Sometimes the waves would continue to roll and engulf his feet with an icy blast. He liked that feeling too.

Chuuya sighed and bent his legs up so he could rest his chin against his knees. Chuuya wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them close to his chest. He was foolishly wearing the hoodie he gave to Dazai when he took him to the beach. It still kind of smelt like Dazai.

But it was the only thing Chuuya owned which was big enough for the hood to cover his entire face. He didn’t want anyone to see him.

Or that’s what he kept telling himself.

He’s not exactly sure how long he’s been sitting on the beach. He has his motorcycle propped next to him. Chuuya had never drove to this beach before.

At the time it had made sense to drive as far away as possible. Chuuya  had woken up in the middle of the night, plagued by a nightmare he had no real memory of. Only vague flashes of red, the sound of maniacal laughing, and the taste of copper remained with him. Whatever the fuck it was, it haunted him.

Instead of possibly pondering on the implications of that, Chuuya hopped on his bike and drove. He passed all the highway exits which indicated beaches he frequented, instead he kept speeding down the open road, waiting for the right location. As a result, he found a beach much further north than he had ever gone before.

The wind was a little crisper, beach a little cleaner, town a bit smaller than he would have liked. But it was quite early in the morning. No one would give a shit if there were some tire tracks on the sand. Chuuya would be gone by the time tourists or surfers would claim the land. There was just no way in hell he was leaving his prized beauty on the side of a road.

Time's passage hadn’t felt real. Chuuya remembered mounting his bike a little past three in the morning, but he’s not really sure how long of a drive he took, or how long he’s been sitting here. Chuuya knows he has been sitting long enough for his ass to go completely numb, sand probably making his pants turn wet in spots.

He also saw the sunrise. A beautiful array of light purples, pinks, and yellows. Currently the sky was in a transition period from a baby blue shade to one truly brilliant and rich. It was so much different than the burning sunsets Chuuya adored. Everything was softer, more pastel, a quiet promise that this was the beginning of the day where a lot was possible.

Chuuya barely registered the buzzing in his pants until it stopped for a minute and then started back up again. He honestly thought that was the vibration of the waves against his thigh.

Scrambling for his phone, Chuuya sighed in relief when he saw it was just Kouyou calling him. He slid the answer call bar and held the phone up to his ear.

“Good morning, Ane-san,” he said.

“Hello, lad.” A pause. “Is that the ocean in the background that I’m hearing?”


“At six in the morning?”

“Sorry, was there something that you wanted?” Chuuya snapped, trying to divert the topic from her fretting over his wellbeing. Again.

“I didn’t expect you to answer,” Kouyou explained, “Just hoped you would call me back in a few hours.”

“Well, here I am.” Chuuya chuckled, “What’s up?”

“Mori-san and Fukazawa-san have both agreed to your collaboration song with Dazai-kun. They want to meet Monday morning to start recording.”

Chuuya almost dropped the phone out his loose grip. He hadn’t thought about the song in weeks. He kind of hoped that his falling out with Dazai would put an end to this fake dating thing all together. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

Kouyou continued, picking up that Chuuya’s silence was an indicator he was processing everything, “Apparently Mori-san has been in communication with Dazai-kun, the two of them finished the remaining edits. Fukazawa gave the final agreement. I assumed you were aware as well.”

Chuuya gritted his teeth in, what? Annoyance? Hatred? Frustration? A complete and total lack of empathy since he shouldn’t have expected anything more of Dazai but has still, once again, been let down?

“I see,” Chuuya finally said. “Well, I will be there.”

Chuuya listened in silence as Kouyou went over all of the logistics of their upcoming meetings. Two full weeks of seeing Dazai and coming up with a new timeline. Fucking hell.

As they were wrapping up, Chuuya only had one question.

“Did Dazai name the song?” Chuuya asked, voice small, barely heard over the roaring of the waves.

Kouyou seemed to hesitate before she replied. “Still Still Still.”

Chuuya felt his throat constrict to the point where he could barely breathe. That was the title Chuuya had suggested during their first late night session. He scribbled it on a piece of paper and slid it over to Dazai wordlessly. Dazai laughed, telling him it was way too cliché and cheesy, and that they could do better.

“Right,” he choked out. “I’ll see you later, Ane-san. Goodbye.”

Chuuya didn’t even wait for a farewell before he hung up on Kouyou. He felt his arm go limp beside him, falling into the sand, palm with his phone clasped between his fingers shining at him. Taunting him. Chuuya still hadn’t changed his wallpaper of himself and Dazai, smiling lazily at the camera. They were both wearing iterations of Chuuya’s band’s shirts.

He dropped his forehead into the crook between his knees and screamed.

Everything was finally catching up to him.

It was too fucking much.

Chapter Text

Chuuya only had a weekend to prepare for the shitstorm that was working with Osamu Dazai again. His weekend was nice. Long motorcycle rides, hard runs, late night writing sessions. He was content.

In hindsight, that should have been a cue to Chuuya that that weekend was the calm before the storm.

Barely even thirty minutes into the first recording session and Chuuya was already tapping his foot in annoyance. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

“Where the fuck is Dazai?” He snarled, directed towards Kunikida.

Kunikida grimaced and scrolled through his phone once more. “That waste of bandages is probably still asleep.”

Chuuya groaned. At least Dazai was consistent about being an insufferable, lazy, piece of goddamn fucking shit. With a flick of his wrist, Chuuya looked at the watch he put on in addition to his fingerless gloves. Thirty-four minutes left. Honestly, Chuuya could have recorded this thing already.

Thirty-six minutes earlier Chuuya had strode into one of The Port’s recording studios, navy blue beanie, navy blue sweater, and black jeans snug on his body. Chuuya liked being comfortable and mobile during recording sessions. That way he could move around the studio and allow himself to feel the music.

Looks like he had dressed up for nothing.

“This is ridiculous,” Chuuya huffed, pushing himself up from the sofa positioned in the back of the room. “Can’t I at least start on some of the instrumentals? It’s not like Dazai plays anyway.”

Kouyou and Kunikida shared a look before seemingly coming to the same conclusion.

“I don’t see why not,” Kouyou said.

Kunikida nodded. “We’re already wasted enough time. Might as well check the sound system.”

Chuuya nodded, hands already twitching with anticipation to play. There was nothing Chuuya loved more than performing. Whether it be live at a concert, or in a studio recording, or just in front one person, Chuuya loved that people could hear his feelings through music, completely and utterly unique.

Going through soundcheck was tedious, but necessary. It only took a little while to confirm that all the equipment was working properly and that Chuuya could be heard flawlessly.

Once that was out of the way, Chuuya slid the bulky headphones over his ears and tuned out every little thing around him. It was just him and his drums. Chuuya was personally far more attached to his guitar over any other instrument, however it just made logical sense to have the backbone of the piece finished first.

As much as Chuuya hated to admit it, the song was good. Not because he didn’t want the song to be successful – he did. It’s just that he hadn’t helped finish constructing it. Still Still Still didn’t feel like it was completely his and Dazai’s. That being said, Dazai had done a very good job with the edits.

While Chuuya was banging along to the rhythm, he couldn’t help but feel himself get lost in his work. Admittedly, Chuuya was incredibly wary about trusting Dazai with leading the direction of their song. Especially considering Dazai was pushing for a pop sound. And even though Chuuya couldn’t help but be underwhelmed while drumming along to a basic backbeat, it made sense.

Every single piece of the song alone couldn’t stand together. The drumline was predictable, the bass was only there to highlight the guitar, the guitar followed a simple pattern, the piano was too chaotic, and the vocals sounded like a fight for dominance. It was too hectic. But together it worked. Together it sounded like a complete story. Something only achieved if every single composition works together to highlight the piece, not each individual component.

Chuuya knew Dazai was a genius, but damn, even he was impressed as to what he helped create alongside Dazai.

But still, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel that something was lacking in his performance. Maybe it was the tune, but that didn’t feel all the way true.

As if on cue, Chuuya heard a loud screech in his ear. He instantly hissed in pain. Chuuya then dropped his drumsticks to free his hands in the fastest way possible, and then yanked off his headphones. Even after the headphones were secured around Chuuya’s neck, he could still hear a faint ringing in his ears. What the fuck.

Chuuya glared his eyes to the recording booth in front of him and shouldn’t have been surprised at the Dazai’s shaped lanky asshole banging on the window separating them.

“Fucking Christ, Dazai,” Chuuya screamed, “What the hell was that for?!”

Dazai opened his mouth and said something that Chuuya couldn’t quite make out. Chuuya tried interpreting what words Dazai’s lips were forming but was at an utter loss.

“What?” Chuuya asked, genuinely confused why he couldn’t hear what Dazai was saying.

Chuuya watched as Dazai rolled his eyes and pointed at his own neck. Chuuya scrunched his eyes in confusion. Why would Dazai be pointing at his neck? Was he missing something? He reached up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, and only when Chuuya’s fingers brushed against the headphones blocking his neck did he realize.


He was in a recording studio.

He kind of needed headphones in order to hear someone on the other side.

Well wasn’t that embarrassing.

Chuuya tried with all his might to fight down the incoming blush as he slid his headphones back over his head.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “What did you say?”

Dazai laughed lightly. “Stupid slug.”

Chuuya groaned. Already with the bullshit nicknames. Literally not even five minutes into seeing Dazai again and he was already getting under Chuuya’s skin.

“Why are you here, Dazai,” Chuuya gritted out.

“What do you mean?” Dazai asked, feigning innocence, “This is my song too. I’m here to record, obviously.”

“Well you could’ve showed up forty minutes ago as we agreed on.”

Dazai hummed, stroking his chin in thought. “A valid point. However, I would much rather bypass all the boring stuff~”

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya replied. “Fine, okay, why did you interrupt me and ruin this take then?”

“Oh, that’s obvious,” Dazai said, waving his hand, “That was boring.”

“Excuse me?” Chuuya was so offended. How dare Dazai, the pretentious asshole that he is, stroll in nearly an hour late and then immediately critique Chuuya’s process. As if he had the fucking right.

“C’mon, Chuuya,” Dazai whined, “Where’s the passion! It looked like you wanted to die up there.”

“That’s because I did, asshole,” Chuuya snarled, “This drumline is boring.”

Dazai raised his eyebrows in surprise. He seemed caught off guard that anyone would ever push back against his musical decisions.

“Well, you’re a talented drummer,” he finally said with a shrug. “You can figure out what to do to put some energy into the song.”

This time it was Chuuya’s turn to raise his eyebrows in surprise. That was oddly sweet of Dazai to say. Dazai had never admitted that Chuuya was even remotely above average at playing music, much less pay him a legitimate compliment. It felt wrong.

After waiting a couple seconds for Dazai to follow up, with no avail, Chuuya spoke, “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“There’s nothing else you want to say?”


“Are you sure?”


“Okay,” Chuuya said, unconvinced of Dazai’s uncharacteristic niceness.

Chuuya bent over to pick up the drumsticks he dropped. He still isn’t sure what Dazai did to generate so much feedback, but he decided to bring that up later. Right as Chuuya was about to signal for the track to be played again, tips of the drumsticks resting on the rim, he heard a smooth voice chime.

“Oh, and Chuuya,” Dazai added, laced with honey and oh so very suggestive.

Chuuya groaned. There it was. Fucking asshole always had to be so goddamn controlling.

“Yes, Dazai?” Chuuya asked just as sickeningly sweet, attempting to mock Dazai.

“This is just the backbone of our song. There’s no need to get so into the music that you attempt to steal the show from our vocals. Try not to overstep your bounds, okay?”

Chuuya bit the inside of his cheek to hold himself back from lashing out at Dazai.

Just to prove Dazai wrong, Chuuya kicked the stool out from underneath his legs, now standing, his hands hovering over the drumset in front of him. Then, Chuuya signaled for Kouyou to play the track and put everything he felt into drumming.

Every little frustration he felt towards Dazai. Every ounce of pent up anger that stemmed from Dazai never feeling repercussions for his actions. Every doubt and anxiety Chuuya felt when thinking about the next two weeks. All of it went into hyping up the drumline. To add more emotion.

Needless to say, Dazai immediately vetoed that performance.

And honestly, Chuuya agreed that it was too much. At one point he even heard his right drumstick crack under the pressure. Well, at least that was somewhat therapeutic.




Dazai, Chuuya decided, was fucking ruthless. If he thought that trying to write with Dazai was bad, it was nothing like recording. It’s like Dazai could hear Chuuya’s every little thought and stopped him every time he even attempted to go off script. Dazai wanted everything to be perfect, even down to the millisecond. Even if Chuuya was off by a quarter of a beat, Dazai stopped the track and made Chuuya start over.

“Enough,” Dazai said, once more immediately turning off the track.

Somehow, some-fucking-how, Chuuya finished the drumline. It took nearly two hours and Chuuya felt like his hands had gone numb with how many times he had to repeat the same fucking beat. But at least it was done.

Now, however, Chuuya was playing the bassline which he decided was so much worse. He couldn’t even imagine how hard trying to sing was going to be. Especially considering he had no idea if Dazai was going to be in the booth with him.

“What?” Chuuya snarled. “What the fuck could it be this time?”

“You’re off.”

“How?” Chuuya screamed, “I just fucking raised my hands!”

Dazai shrugged. “I could just tell that you were going to be off.”

“Maybe it’s because I can’t feel my fucking hands, Dazai,” Chuuya retorted, “Give me a five minute break, for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re a musician, Chuuya,” Dazai replied smoothly, “You should be able to do this.”

“I shouldn’t have to do anything.” Chuuya tightened his grip on the neck of the bass. “I’m not an unfeeling, inhuman machine, like you.”

Chuuya couldn’t really see Dazai through the window but he felt a dark energy overtake the recording booth. Maybe what he said was too far. Well, no going back now.

“I’m asking for the bare minimum here, Chuuya. You don’t have to be antagonistic just to make a point. It should be easy for you to listen, shouldn’t it? You listened to my fake dating proposal far too well, didn’t you?”

Chuuya’s jaw fell open on impulse. This was goddamn embarrassing. Kouyou and Kunikida were also in the studio. They could hear everything.

Chuuya immediately tightened his grip on his bass so hard to the point where he felt the strings dig into his skin, pinching his already scarred skin. It didn’t take long for Chuuya to feel the familiar sting of hot blood drip down his palm.

He threw down the bass in outrage. There was a loud crash, probably resulting in a crack to his precious instrument. But Chuuya didn’t care. He wanted to get as far away from Dazai as possible in this very moment. Chuuya flashed his mauled palm to the studio where he knew Dazai’s eyes were calculating his every movement.

“I’m done,” Chuuya declared, “Get off your high fucking horse by tomorrow.”

And with that, Chuuya stormed out of the recording booth, past the patrons sitting around watching him in the studio, and out of the building. He kept telling himself that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Dazai.

But if that were the case, then why did it hurt so much to leave?




Four days later, Chuuya got a call from Mori telling him that he and Fukuzawa would be accompanying Kouyou and Kunikida in the recording process to make sure that everything remained on schedule. Apparently Dazai and Chuuya were not supposed to have the recording studio for more than two days. They were already at double that and they still had the vocals to record.

It’s not like it was Chuuya’s fault. He tried to listen to Dazai’s every command. But every time he thought that he was doing something correct, Dazai would say one degrading comment that would halt any progress they made.

It was fucking infuriating.

And the worse part was that Chuuya couldn’t even say anything back about how Dazai was off or that Dazai needed to pick it up. Dazai could easily step into the booth and pick up any slack that Chuuya left. It drove him insane. At this point, Chuuya wasn’t sure if Dazai was being overly critical to make him suffer or if he was really that off.

Chuuya will admit, the sound wasn’t nearly as good as the demo they sent to each of their respective recording companies. He partly blamed in on Dazai being a fucking asshole. But there was a bigger part of Chuuya which knew that it was his fault. When he and Dazai recorded that version, he was riding a post-kiss high, when he was fairly certain that his feelings towards Dazai were reciprocated. When he could sing a love song and maybe feel that he was in love.

Now that Dazai had completely and utterly rejected him, multiple times might he add, it was hard to get into the mindset that this song was supposed to be two lovers singing to each other about trying to make it work.

They were halfway through recording when Chuuya realized what was wrong.

Chuuya stopped singing mid-verse, instead his eyes zoned in on a dent located on the wall underneath the window separating the booth from the studio.

(Technically, Chuuya had been the one to put that mark there. Dazai was being especially nitpicky yesterday and Chuuya threw one of the music stands against the window in retaliation. Unfortunately, the glass was bulletproof, but at least some of his anger manifested in the deep dent on the wall. Not that that was what Chuuya was thinking about.)

“Uh,” Dazai mumbled, waving his hand in front of Chuuya’s face, “Earth to Chibi.”

Chuuya shook his head, once again fully aware that Dazai was right next to him. A constant presence that Chuuya wasn’t good enough. And that was the problem. Chuuya couldn’t let his true feelings show with Dazai right there, reprehending every little thing.

Chuuya turned to Dazai, his eyes filled with a sense of determination that had been lacking. “Dazai, could you do me a favor?”

Dazai’s eyes darted between Chuuya’s face and the recording studio, silently questioning if this was okay. “I suppose,” he finally said.

“Can you leave this room for one take?” Chuuya asked. “Can you just keep your big mouth shut for once and let me try one thing on my own?”

“I don’t know,” Dazai said sheepishly, “We’re trying to stay on track. This seems like a waste of time.”

“Please,” Chuuya begged, “I have been listening to your every command for the past couple days, just please trust me on this.”

Dazai’s eyes searched Chuuya’s for any misdirect or ill-intent. Seemingly satisfied that he couldn’t find anything harmful, Dazai turned his attention to those behind the window. He quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Is that alright?”

There seemed to be a unanimous agreement. Dazai slipped off his headphones, flashed Chuuya with a look of uneasiness, and then walked out to the adjoining studio. Finally, Chuuya felt like he could breathe.

Chuuya flexed his hands and shook out his legs. He even made the decision to pull out the hair tie keeping his red locks up in a bun. 

“Okay, ready,” he announced, signaling for Kouyou to play the track.

The track from the demo that they sent.

So that he could hear Dazai’s voice and know when it was his turn to sing along. So that he could fully immerse himself into that night. Chuuya took a deep breath before he belted out the first lyrics of the song.

Every single emotion came flooding back to him. The dim lights, highlighting Dazai’s soft features and making his eyes glimmer like warm pools of honey. The warm atmosphere of Chuuya’s makeshift studio enveloped Chuuya here, sending him back to a time when his lips were tingling. And, more importantly, a time when his heart was beating fast not due to a throbbing ache, but because he was so unbelievably happy. 

He felt all of those things right here, right now.

Chuuya’s eyes fluttered shut as he sang along to lyrics. He didn’t miss a beat. Instead, he was right on cue, his voice filled with more passion than anyone could’ve expected.

On impulse, Chuuya began to move around the room, well, as much as he could with a clunky microphone blocking his path. During the more heartfelt lines in the song, he reached his arm out towards Dazai. There was a small voice telling him that Dazai was just going to chastise him for the action, but he didn’t give a shit. He poured his heart into his songs in order for them to sound authentic. He was damn well proud of this.

After their voices faded out in the recording, Chuuya finally opened his eyes. He was nearly out of breath with how much he put into that. But it was worth it. Chuuya could tell that was the best recording he was ever going to be capable of, and by the immediate lack of critiques from a certain bandage-wasting machine, he could tell that everyone agreed.

“So?” Chuuya prompted.

Still more silence.

Finally, Chuuya heard a throat being cleared through his headphones and Dazai’s voice speak next, “That was perfect, Chuuya.”

Chuuya beamed at the studio, proud. Even just from Dazai’s tone of voice he could tell that the other man was smiling, and that what he said was a true, genuine, compliment.

Chuuya’s heart was still beating fast. Although he was starting to come off his post singing high, and back into the familiar ache that appeared each time he was around Dazai lately.

“You can come inside now,” Dazai continued, “We’ll switch places and I’ll finish it up. Nice job, partner.”

Chuuya flashed a quick thumb’s up before slipping off his headphones and hanging them around the microphone. Damn, it felt good to be done. His hands were still numb from the near three day abuse of Dazai trying to get everything to sound perfect, but it was well worth it. Chuuya couldn’t wait for everyone to hear their song. Still Still Still finally felt like his too.




When Chuuya got home that night, he realized that Dazai had tweeted something during the day. Well that was odd. Chuuya hadn’t seen Dazai pick up his phone at any point during their recording session. He quickly tapped on the notification with curiosity.

He was met with a video of himself, singing along to their song. Dazai had happened to catch the part where one of Chuuya’s hands was curled around the microphone, the other one slowly outstretching for Dazai himself. Chuuya isn’t certain that Dazai knew that part was intended for him, but it still felt weirdly intimate to see on a social media platform.

Nonetheless, it was still touching that Dazai felt the need to include his fans on all the updates of their lives.


osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 3h

hey-o~ sorry chuuya and i have been mia recently! we’re working on something very special indeed ★~(◡‿◕✿)




Jordan (ˆ⌣ˆԅ) @atsushis – 3h



dazai’s left dimple @dazaisleftdimple – 3h

ooooooooh boooooy it’s HAPPENING ladies and gents


king chuuya @forthetaintedsxrrxw – 3h

There was a part of me that hoped the song was fake so I didn’t have to hear d*zai singing with chuuya. This fucking blows.


once and forever and only chuuya @chuuyaforever – 3h

ffs I really thought they had broken up or something...


light up my life @doubleblxck – 3h



dreamy dazai @ozamus – 3h

hey @nolongerhuman when can we expect to hear it???


            osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 1h

            @ozamus soon (◡‿◡✿)



Apparently, when Dazai decided he wanted something done soon, he wasn’t kidding. Just two days later after the recording had been finalized (the only thing left now was to splice the audio tracks on top of each other) Chuuya found himself in a brightly lit studio to take a picture for their single.

Normally, Chuuya didn’t mind photoshoots, but this one felt especially over the top. The second he stepped into the studio he was met with Kajii, eccentric photographer who kept talking about his goddamn “vision.” Chuuya had never worked with Kajii before, but Dazai swore by his methods, so he didn’t question it.

Immediately, Chuuya was rushed into hair and makeup. Nothing too drastic was done. Some of the longer ends of his hair were snipped to come off as cleaner, but still keeping its asymmetrical style. He was given a light covering of makeup and prominent eyeliner, but besides that Chuuya looked very much like himself.

That being said, Chuuya was very pleased with the main outfit that they picked for him. Light washed jeans with rips at the knees, a thin silk black button-up shirt, and three long necklaces. He quickly switched clothes until he was wearing the new outfit.

Chuuya tucked half the black shirt into the jeans, making sure that the other half was hanging out low. He assumed that the necklaces were supposed to take up the majority of his chest, so he undid three of the buttons on the shirt and let the three chains hang low. Once Kouyou gave him a nod of approval, he made his way out to Dazai.

It seemed like Kajii’s “vision” was very much revolved around their name Double Black. Dazai was also wearing a primarily black outfit. He was wearing a black t-shirt, covered with a black mid-length trench coat, stylish and soft, and then dark blue jeans.

“Why can’t you look that good for me?” Chuuya teased, walking over to Dazai, awaiting Kajii’s next instructions.

Dazai chuckled. “I don’t need to impress you, I’ve already got you.”

“A tragedy on my part.”

Kajii made his way over to them, camera in hand, big smile on his face.

“I am really, really, excited for this shoot,” he blubbered, “I’m a big, big, fan of you two. It’s nice to see some representation in the media.”

The small smirk Chuuya was wearing immediately fell and was replaced with guilt. He had never processed that this whole thing between him and Dazai was affecting other people’s lives. When they broke up, it was going to mean so much more than he could’ve ever anticipated. Fuck.

Dazai swooped in, wrapping his arm around Chuuya’s shoulders and pulling him close. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Chuuya’s head.

“I can speak for myself and Chuuya when I say that means a lot,” Dazai replied, “A lot of people are rooting against us, so it’s nice to see someone isn’t.”

Kajii smiled once more, completely ignoring Chuuya’s sour mood, and then took a few steps back. His demeanor changed to far more professional, asking Chuuya and Dazai to fall into place for poses.

Another thing Chuuya quickly learned about Kajii’s “vision” is that he didn’t have a clear idea of what pose he wanted coming into this. Dazai and Chuuya only held a certain pose for half a minute at most before Kajii ecstatically made them move.

Pose three had Dazai and Chuuya sitting down. Dazai’s legs were crossed and Chuuya was positioned in his lap securely. Dazai wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist and pulled him so that his back was flush against Dazai’s back. Chuuya smiled secretly at the camera, like he knew that everyone wanted Dazai but no could have him.

Halfway through those photos, Dazai pressed another kiss to the top of Chuuya’s head. Chuuya glanced up and his smile turned far more genuine. Dazai was staring straight at Chuuya and pressed another kiss to his nose.

After that, Kajii made them move.

Pose six had Chuuya’s hand pressed against the side of Dazai’s face, cupping his cheek protectively. Chuuya’s back was facing the camera, his face turned to the side so that the main focus was on Dazai’s smile.

Unprompted by Kajii, Dazai pressed his lips against Chuuya’s palm. Even though Chuuya was still wearing gloves, he could feel the pressure of Dazai’s lips against his skin and he smiled as well.

The last thing that Chuuya noticed about Kajii’s “vision,” is that it also revolved around red camellias. He had thought that it was a nice gesture during the first couple poses, a nice call back to when Dazai bought Chuuya those flowers, but he soon realized that it was meant to be prominent theme throughout each of the pictures.

In each pose, either Chuuya or Dazai was holding a camellia, and there were dozens of red petals and full flowers scattered on the studio floor. It was very overwhelming.

Thirteen poses in and Chuuya leaned his head against Dazai’s shoulder in exhaustion.

“You swear by this guy?” Chuuya mocked.

Dazai laughed lightly and gently stroked his hands through Chuuya’s hair. “Have I ever let you down before?”

Before Chuuya had the chance to scream at Dazai, Kajii had them moving again.

Pose fourteen, Kajii finally asked for a kiss. Chuuya was honestly surprised it took this long for the dreaded pose. Dazai cupped Chuuya’s neck, Chuuya quickly wrapping his hands around Dazai’s wrists. It had been so long since Chuuya had kissed Dazai, but he was honestly surprised that the moment Dazai’s lips brushed against his, it sent butterflies to his stomach.

Chuuya closed his eyes, reminding himself that this was still a photoshoot and he couldn’t get that into the kiss. But still, for as much as Chuuya was holding himself back, he felt like Dazai was just standing there.

“C’mon, Dazai,” Kajii called, “Give us a little something!”

Dazai’s lips parted from Chuuya’s only for a second before he quickly surged forward to Chuuya’s mouth. Chuuya couldn’t help the small groan he let out even if tried, he had no idea what Dazai had planned to do.

Apparently, “a little something” meant two very different things to Dazai and literally any other person on planet earth. Dazai tiled his head, making sure that both of their faces were still in the camera’s frame, and kissed Chuuya with everything he had. He nipped at Chuuya’s lips, constantly switching between short kisses and long, deep, kisses.

Chuuya’s head was spinning. He squeezed Dazai’s wrists, to which Dazai just replied with kissing Chuuya harder. Chuuya couldn’t breathe. Dazai confused Chuuya so deeply. Just a few weeks ago he said that they were nothing more, but if that were the case, then how was Dazai able to kiss Chuuya as if there were something

“Dazai,” Chuuya moaned out on impulse, breath hot against Dazai’s lips.

“Chuuya,” Dazai rasped out, pulling him back forward for a kiss.

“Dazai,” a different voice said. This caught Chuuya by surprise. He pulled away to see what was going on. He was met with half a dozen faces watching in horror, another half dozen adverting their eyes.

Huh, he completely forgot about everyone else the second Dazai went all out.

Dazai smiled sheepishly, cheeks flushed.

“Okay,” Kajii said awkwardly, “You two aren’t allowed to do that again.”

Chuuya took a step back from Dazai and glanced at him warily. He really couldn’t get a good read on Dazai anymore. There definitely felt like there was some sort of emotion behind the action. So why the fuck was Dazai insisting that this didn’t mean anything?

Or did he seriously kiss everyone like that? Chuuya certainly hoped not. The mere thought made him want to claw everyone’s eyes out.

Was it really Chuuya’s fault? Or was Chuuya seriously missing something?

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, acutely aware that they had a photoshoot to finish. Chuuya didn’t see a time in the near future to bring it up to Dazai, especially considering their next few weeks were dominated by work.

Pose fifteen was so tame it almost made Chuuya cry out of embarrassment. He and Dazai interlaced pinkies, Chuuya’s gloved pinky tightly secured around Dazai’s.

Pose twenty had Chuuya and Dazai back on the floor. Dazai was laying down on his back, one arm by his side and the other clutching his chest, both of his eyes closed. Chuuya was laying down as well, but on his stomach with his face hovering over Dazai’s. One of Chuuya’s arms, the one closest to the camera, was holding another camellia while his other arm was helping prop up his head.

Chuuya briefly glanced down at Dazai and noticed how close they were once again. He could lean down and press a kiss to Dazai’s lips if he wanted to. Instead, knowing how bad that went, Chuuya faced the camera with a soft smile on his face, completely aware of how vulnerable Dazai was lying under him.

After a few more shots, they wrapped up. Chuuya and Dazai were ushered into the same rooms where they went into at the beginning of the day to clean up. Once Chuuya was back in his own clothes, makeup gone, he went out to the studio to thank Kajii.

Kajii was sifting through the photos on a huge computer monitor, deleting the ones that didn’t have the right angle or weren’t focused on the right focal point.

Chuuya cleared his throat. “I just wanted to thank you for everything you did today,” he said, “I know that Dazai and I can be a lot sometimes.”

Kajii spun around in his chair and waved his hand at Chuuya dismissively. “Don’t worry about it! Made for some interesting shots,” he said, moving back around. “Here, look at this one.”

Kajii flipped through a couple pictures until he got to the final pose, the one where Chuuya looked so protective of Dazai. Like he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to the man underneath him even if his life depended on it.

“You just don’t get this kind of raw emotion from models,” Kajii explained.

Chuuya nodded dumbly.

Chapter Text

[Mackerel]: hey chuuya~


[Me]: Yes?


[Mackerel]: are u home


[Me]: Uhh yeah

[Me]: Why?


[Mackerel]: come to ur door~~


Chuuya scrunched his eyebrows. What the fuck had Dazai done now? Did he order something for Chuuya? He really hoped not. Chuuya was very much enjoying his Dazai-less apartment. Well, besides the red camellia still resting on his kitchen counter. He just didn’t have the heart to throw it away.

Chuuya hoisted himself up out of his bed, grabbed a beige cardigan and threw it over his black tank top and checkered sweatpants, and finally made his way over to his living room. He didn’t look great, but he really had no intentions of seeing anyone today. Chuuya supposed that one delivery man seeing him look like shit wouldn’t make all the difference in the world.

He stalked over to his front door, opened it, and nearly slammed the door shut at the sight of Dazai on the other side. A total stranger seeing him look like this? Fine. Dazai on the other hand? Fuck, the teasing would never stop.

Dazai took in the sight of Chuuya and chuckled lowly. “Wow, you really let yourself go ever since I left.”

Chuuya sighed. “Why couldn’t you have said you were coming over like a normal person?”

 “My, my, Chuuya,” Dazai teased as he bypassed Chuuya and walked straight into his apartment, “You must know by now that I want you to be as on guard as possible.”

Chuuya sighed again, already feeling a headache begin to form. At least it wasn’t from the alcohol this time. He shut the door behind him and followed Dazai to the couch.

“Rough night?” Dazai teased again, taking in the sight of a blanket strewn across the floor and two empty wine bottles clearly displayed on the kitchen counter.

Chuuya immediately had flashbacks to last night when he was drinking straight from the bottle while watching shitty rom-coms where the couple always got together, and the only pain they felt was for maybe five minutes. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he get his movie ending? He had made sure to yell all of his frustrations at the TV last night.

“You have no idea,” Chuuya muttered.

He made quick work of disposing of the wine bottles, folding the blanket, and fluffing the pillows. Hopefully he didn’t smell too much like alcohol. Originally his plan was to laze around during the day and shower at night. Evidently, that was the wrong plan.

“So,” Chuuya said, done with cleaning, as he plopped on the couch beside Dazai, “What’s up?”

“Oh, right. Can I borrow your laptop?”

Chuuya raised his eyebrows, confused. “You came all the way over here just to borrow a product I have no doubt you own as well?”

Dazai clapped his hands in mock-praise. “Congratulations,” he exclaimed, “You knew that wasn’t the real reason I came! Now, can you go fetch your laptop?”

“I’m not a damn dog,” he growled, but nonetheless got up from the couch to retrieve his laptop.

About a minute later Chuuya came back, laptop in hand, and sat down once more.

“Good boy,” Dazai purred, patting Chuuya’s head condescendingly.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Chuuya said as he handed Dazai his laptop.

Dazai ignored the insult and opened the laptop. When he was met with no initial password, he tsked Chuuya.

“Really?” He asked, already logging into his email. “What if someone had stolen your laptop? Then they could know everything about you~”

“I don’t have anything incriminating, bastard.”

Dazai looked at Chuuya pointedly. “Really? No nudes?”

“If you wanted to see my naked, why didn’t you just say so.”

Dazai snorted. “Pass.” A pause. “Although it’s not like I haven’t seen you nearly naked already. You really like to leave little to the imagination when you’re performing, huh?”

Chuuya scoffed. “Tch, you wish.”

They fell into silence as Dazai opened up whatever extra tabs he was in the process of clicking on.

“When have you ever seen me perform, anyway?” Chuuya asked, still not able to get Dazai’s comment out of his mind.

“I watched that surprise concert you did in LA a couple months ago,” Dazai said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“Oh,” Chuuya said, very small. He wrapped his arms around his waist protectively, remembering how much emotion he had put into the version of Rain Beat. And Dazai had seen it. And didn’t care.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Chuuya leaned over into Dazai’s space. “What are you doing anyway?”

“Kajii sent me some proofs for the pictures we took last week,” Dazai explained, clicking on the email tab. He doubled clicked on the attached file which led to a whole album filled with dozens of pictures of Dazai and Chuuya.

Dazai continued, “He asked me to forward them to you so we could select which photo we wanted for the single, but I thought it would be easier to just do it in person.”

“Right,” Chuuya said, still sensing that wasn’t the entire truth for why Dazai was here, but not pushing him further.

For next couple hours, Dazai and Chuuya went through each picture that Kajii sent over. Like with everything, Dazai was overly critical towards every pixel on screen. If he didn’t like how even one strand of hair was placed, he skipped past the photo, deeming it not good enough.

The only pictures Dazai didn’t comment on were the ones of the kiss. And rightfully so, since Chuuya already felt the tips of ears heat up as he looked at one of the pictures for a split second. Needless to say, they breezed through that set fairly quick.

They finally agreed on using one of the pictures where Chuuya was leaning over Dazai. Dazai concluded that it was suggestive, yet tasteful enough, to serve as their cover art.

Next, they moved on to the limited amount of editing they could do on Chuuya’s laptop without Photoshop. Chuuya learned that Dazai needed to be a part of every process that went into making something. He didn’t know if it was because Dazai was passionate about what he did or a damn control freak, but either way it led to them spending far too long trying to pick a placement for “Still Still Still.”

And then when it came to who’s name got to go first? Chuuya had to restrain himself from punching Dazai multiple times.

“Well,” Dazai exclaimed, “My name should go first because I’m taller.”

“Don’t chalk it to such trivial things, dammit!”

“You’re right,” Dazai mused, “It is such a small thing to base our decision off of.”

Chuuya groaned. “If anything, my name should go first since Chuuya comes before Osamu.”

Dazai didn’t reply. No usual quips or retorts. Chuuya tore his eyes away from the laptop screen to see what the fuck had happened to Dazai. Dazai had apparently short-circuited next to Chuuya. His eyes were blown wide, glued to Chuuya. In fact, his whole body looked glued together, rigid and tense. It didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“Uh,” Chuuya said, waving a hand in front of Dazai, “Earth to Dazai?”

Dazai shook his head, also essentially shaking the life back into himself. “Why don’t you say that more often?” He practically demanded.

“What?” Chuuya asked, eyebrows once again scrunched up in confusion. He hadn’t said anything necessarily unusual. The only thing slightly different thing was, “Osamu?”

Dazai nearly shivered at the sound of his given name from Chuuya’s lips. “Yeah,” he breathed out, “That’s my name, after all.”

Chuuya shrugged. “It felt way too personal, I guess.”

Dazai seemed to think about that for a minute before humming his agreement.

“If we’re going by names though,” Dazai retorted, as if pretending the last couple minutes hadn’t happened, “We should always go by last name, to which Dazai comes before Nakahara.”

“True,” Chuuya agreed. “However, I did most of the work. I should get most of the credit.”

“Excuse me? You did most of the work? Who do you think had to coach you to sound good on that track?”

“Oh, please.”

After an additional hour of arguing, they still didn’t decide on who’s name should go first. In the end, Dazai and Chuuya agreed to let Kajii decide what fit best on the picture as he was in charge of editing the final version.

Once that email was sent, Dazai placed Chuuya’s laptop on the coffee table and flopped down so his head was resting on Chuuya’s lap. He blinked up at the redhead.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Dazai asked.

Chuuya shrugged. “Nothing really, why?”

Dazai snuggled his head on Chuuya’s lap, seeming to hunker in for a long stay. He let out a hum and fluttered his eyes closed. Within the next couple minutes, Dazai’s breathing evened out and his lips parted slightly, signaling that he was completely asleep on Chuuya.

Chuuya smiled to himself and began to card a hand through Dazai’s hair. At least until Dazai woke up, Chuuya could have this moment to himself, and pretend that everything was okay between them. He would never admit it out loud, but he much preferred when there was a Dazai lounging about in his apartment.



osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 3w


my lovely chuuya and i are proud to present “still still still” our first baby

i hope you enjoy ♪ ♬ヾ(´︶`♡)ノ♬♪



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3w

It’s true! @nolongerhuman and I finished our newest single! Thank you all for your continued support! :)



            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3w

            @taintedsorrow Also for anyone wondering why we didn’t have a countdown blame Dazai. He wanted to make you all freak the fuck out.


            osamu dazai (☞゚∀゚)☞ @nolongerhuman – 3w

            @taintedsorrow pls baby don’t expose me like this (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥)



( ・_・)♡ @heartsosamus – 3w



stream still still still @jokesdazai – 3w

okay this song HIGHKEY POPS OFF bitch WTF #stillstillstill



My crops are thriving. My grades are improving. My skin is clear. My gay heart is whole. #stillstillstill



osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 2w

here are some unused photos from that photoshoot chuuya and i did~

my favorite is the one where he’s sitting in my lap ❀(*´◡`*)❀

[image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg]


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 2w

Dazai forced me to pick my three favorite shots from our photoshoot. I guess he cleans up kinda nice?

[image.jpg] [image.jpg] [image.jpg]    


            osamu dazai (☞゚∀゚)☞ @nolongerhuman – 2w

            @taintedsorrow careful~ if you keep saying sweet things like that people may start to think you like me or something



Gracie✧ @camelliachuuya - 1w

I have never wanted to die more than looking at double black in love with camellias everywhere........ pls,,,, just get married already




“Will you stop fucking fidgeting?”

“Chuuya’s hurting me.”


“I’m cramping up over here.”

“Dazai, I told you to get comfortable and stay still, this is going to take at least half an hour.”

“Half an hour?!”

“For fucks sake, you asked me to do this, bastard!”

Dazai whined. “I didn’t think painting my nails would be this excruciating.”

Chuuya took a long sigh. “It’s really not. You’re just an asshole who can’t stop moving!”

As if to prove Chuuya’s point, Dazai began wiggling in his chair on Chuuya’s kitchen counter. Chuuya was sitting on his knees, so he could get a slightly taller angle when looking down at Dazai’s nails. Chuuya reached forward and smacked Dazai’s waist.

“Stop that, you’re going to ruin this coat.”

Dazai whimpered. “Chuuya should kiss it and make it better~”

“You’re insufferable. Now stay the fuck still.”

After an additional fifteen minutes of Dazai whining, and complaining, and trying to mess Chuuya up – really just Dazai being himself – Chuuya finished painting Dazai’s nails black.

“So, what do you think?” Chuuya asked as he began to move on to his own nails. He unscrewed the clear coat nail polish and with gentle strokes began painting his nails.

Dazai held up his nails for inspection. He held his hand up to the light, down against the floor, curled them into his palm, and out again.

“I like it,” he finally said.

Chuuya grunted in understanding. He was way too in the zone to answer verbally to Dazai.

“Is it harder to paint your own nails?” Dazai asked, his face, and more importantly his hair, way too close to Chuuya’s wet nails.

“Yes, bastard,” Chuuya hissed, pushing Dazai’s face away from him. “You know, just because I’m done with your nails doesn’t mean you can start fidgeting again.”

“Chuuya’s not fair,” Dazai pouted. “Chuuya’s being stingy.”

“Yes, I’m the one being stingy because I want our nails to look good for the next couple weeks.”


Chuuya sighed. “Didn’t you say you had interview questions for us to go over? Can’t you be useful and start reading some off to me.”

Dazai stuck his tongue out. “Chuuya’s really no fun.”

After a few more minutes of harassing Chuuya, Dazai finally took out the small stack of papers that he brought with him. Chuuya nearly winced at the sight of it. He really had a long couple of weeks pretending that they were a happy couple in love.

They had so many interviews to prep for. So many, in fact, that they even had to travel from California to New York, since a lot of the nighttime talk shows were located there. Chuuya was especially displeased about that because that meant sharing a bed with Dazai again. But there’s nothing he can do about it at this point.

A lot of the questions they went over were pretty standard. How did you two meet? What was your first date like? What was the inspiration behind the song? Chuuya, how did you feel about Dazai leaving for filming? Would you two ever work together again? How has it been being openly gay?

Chuuya really hoped that some hosts adjusted their questions, because some of them were downright boring. He was especially thankful that some slotted in time for their own games. That meant less time talking about Dazai and more time trying to beat Dazai in front of everyone.

“Oho,” Dazai hummed, sifting through the papers, “This one is interesting.”

Chuuya hummed his affirmation to continue speaking. He only had the final clear coat left to paint. Overall, his black nails looked good. He had all but perfected using his non-dominant hand to paint his nails, making sure to not get any on his skin.

Dazai cleared his throat, trying his best to impersonate a stereotypical talk show host, “How did you two say you loved each other?”

Chuuya’s shoulders immediately tensed. “Scratch it,” he demanded. “I don’t want to answer that.”

“C’mon Chuuya~ Aren’t we supposed to put on a show?”

Chuuya snorted. “That’s way too much. Besides, we’ve never discussed how we would come up with that lie.”

“Easy,” Dazai replied.

Dazai stood up from his chair and made his way over to Chuuya. “It was a natural progression, obviously. After hating each other for so long, it only made sense for our feelings to switch from one end of the spectrum to the other. Hate and love aren’t that different, don’t you think?”

“Dazai,” Chuuya warned, his heart’s pace already picking up.

“We go out way too much, so I would never say it in public. It would be private. I would take you into my arms,” Dazai said as he did just that. He wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist and twisted him around in his chair so that he was facing Dazai.

“Dazai,” Chuuya warned, a little louder this time. His heart was beating so incredibly fast, he’s sure that Dazai could feel it.

Dazai ignored him. “Then I would kiss you gently,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Chuuya’s lips.

“Dazai, please,” Chuuya begged, breathless. He’s not sure if he could handle Dazai toying with his emotions as blatant at this.

“And then I would say it. I love you, Chuuya.”

Chuuya searched Dazai’s eyes for anything. Even an ounce of truth behind his words. But all he could see was Dazai’s dead mackerel-like stare looking back at him. Like how he looked like when he was rehearsing lines as Shuuji. He was acting again.

“Scratch it,” Chuuya repeated, pushing himself out of Dazai’s arms and refocusing on finalizing his nails. “I will never say that on live television.”



“So,” Yosano said, propping her chin on top of her hand, “I’m sure we’re all dying to know. Who said, ‘I love you’ first?”

Chuuya’s smile immediately felt more strained. As subtly as he could, he pinched Dazai’s side. How fucking dare Dazai not remove that question from Yosano’s list. Even after Chuuya outright said that he would never ever have this conversation.

By the sound of Dazai’s forced laughter, he got the message. Good. Fucking asshole.

“Well,” Chuuya started, “Dazai said it first, so I think he should answer.”

Dazai rubbed his hand up and down Chuuya’s waist. “Chuuya is far too modest,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the side of Chuuya’s head. “He technically said it first during his impromptu concert a couple months ago. But I literally said it a few weeks afterwards.”

“Oh?” Yosano asked, egging Dazai on to tell the story.

Dazai sighed over dramatically, easily giving in. “Alright, alright, I’ll spill.”

Chuuya’s ears perked up. He shifted around in Dazai’s hold so he could get a good look at his “boyfriend.” They really hadn’t rehearsed this. Was Dazai seriously going to spew the same bullshit he did a couple weeks ago alone in his apartment?

“I was having a really bad day,” Dazai started, “And it was actually Chuuya’s idea to take me away to Santa Monica for the evening, just to get away from the monotonous environment we were in.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Dazai was seriously telling this story? And wait, what the fuck? Chuuya had no memory of Dazai ever saying ‘I love you’ during their trip. He would’ve remembered that.

Dazai continued, small smile appearing on his face with the more and more details he shared. “Chuuya bought me a hot dog, which I’ve never had before, and he won me a stuffed animal at one of those rigged booths, and he took us on the huge Ferris Wheel.”

Chuuya’s cheeks heated up at the memory. He remembered how beautiful Dazai looked at the top. The wind was blowing through what hair was poking out of the beanie, the slightly colder air flushed his cheeks a light pink, and the oversized sweatshirt made him look cuddly.

“Anyway, when we were at the top of the Ferris Wheel, I looked over at Chuuya, and wow, I have never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life. All cocky and looking like he could fly.” A couple awes from the crowd sounded. But Dazai didn’t seem to hear them. He only had eyes for Chuuya.

“I was just overwhelmed that Chuuya would take the time out of his busy schedule to cheer me up. It was easy to say,” Dazai finished, gently pulling Chuuya in closer to his side.

The whole audience erupted into claps and cheers.

“And did you say it back, Chuuya?” Yosano asked, cunningly smile painted on her face.

“It’s like Dazai said,” Chuuya breathed out, completely taken aback by what Dazai just did, “It was easy to say.”

Yosano shifted in her seat so she was looking at the camera to her left. “Before these two lovebirds do something obscene on my couch, we’re going to take a commercial break. When we come back, a live performance of Still Still Still.”

Chuuya was speechless after the red lights on the cameras went out. He couldn’t stop staring at Dazai. Where the fuck had that little stunt come from?! Chuuya’s brain went into overdrive, combing through that entire scene. Nowhere had Dazai said ‘I love you.’  He was one hundred percent positive of it.

“Dazai,” Chuuya hissed, his lips pressed close to Dazai’s ear so no one could hear, “We’re talking about this later, got it?”

Dazai smiled lazily at him. “Whatever you say, mon petite rockstar.”

The two were then shooed off of Yosano’s couch and onto her stage where she had live music performers sing at the end of every show. Chuuya and Dazai were given headsets and microphones, ran through a quick soundcheck, and then waited for their signal.

Chuuya was so fucking grateful that this was their last talk show. He was also grateful that they ended with Yosano. She was easy to talk to, funny, and smart as a whip. She could sense if a topic was going to get violent and shifted the conversation in a better way. Plus, Chuuya could swear on her show.

Over the past two weeks, the two had spent a week and a half in LA, and then four days in New York. Most of the daytime shows were filmed in LA, while more of the nighttime shows were filmed in New York. It was weird flying in a plane with Dazai and staying in a hotel room with Dazai, but Chuuya supposed that was what normal celebrity couples did.

One thing that Chuuya was completely sick of doing, however, was performing this damn song. It was exhausting, having to look into Dazai’s eyes and sing like his heart demanded. He was also getting sick of Dazai kissing him. It started off innocent enough, just a peck on the cheek, but as the weeks droned on, it started getting worse.

For some reason, their fans made a huge deal out of Dazai asking if he could kiss Chuuya. Apparently, no one had caught that before. Probably because they were never wearing microphones on their staged dates. Regardless, it blew up. And for some reason, Dazai felt the need to keep making the kisses more and more over the top.

Chuuya sighed before plastering a smile on his face and bumping Dazai’s hip with his own. “Ready?”

Dazai winked at Chuuya, already getting into his starting position. “You bet.”

Yosano gave them their cue, the music started, and Chuuya and Dazai immediately broke out into their powerful vocals. The choreography – if it could even be called that – was pretty simple. Chuuya wasn’t a huge fan of staged dance, much rather preferring the music to take him in whichever direction it dictated, and since they only had a few days to prep, Dazai wasn’t complaining.

During their combined vocals, Dazai wrapped his arm around Chuuya’s waist and led him whichever way he was feeling, their eyes locked. Then when it was come time for a solo verse, Dazai would loosen his grip so Chuuya could walk towards the audience, singing his lines with a smile. Dazai would normally stay put, moving his arm up and down to accentuate the notes he was hitting.

Overall, it was an easy performance.

As they were nearing the end of the song, instead of Dazai normally letting Chuuya bop around the stage freely, he tightened his grip on Chuuya’s waist. Chuuya stared into Dazai’s big brown eyes as they sang their final lines.

“Don’t say, ‘Goodbye and thank you,’” Dazai sang, eyes swimming with unsaid emotion.

“I’m begging you, please,” Chuuya sang, moving his free arm up to grip at Dazai’s forearm, nearly drowning in Dazai.

“Time would cease all together,” They both sang, voices interweaved perfectly.

Dazai lowered his hand with his microphone until it was also wrapped around Chuuya’s waist. He then maneuvered his free hand until it was tangled in the back of Chuuya’s hair, clutching his head protectively.

The instrumental track began to fade, and as it did Dazai asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Chuuya nodded, as he did every single damn time, but was caught off guard when Dazai’s first move wasn’t to lean in, but instead it was to dip Chuuya down. Chuuya barely had any time to react before his hat began to slip off his head. Luckily, he slammed his hand flat against his head, effectively trapping his hat from hitting the ground, right as Dazai’s lips descended on his.

Well, didn’t that just knock him off his feet.




An hour after they were dropped off at their hotel, Dazai still wasn’t back from whatever bullshit phone call he had to make. Chuuya supposed that he should’ve pressed Dazai for an estimated time back, but realistically Dazai wasn’t getting into any trouble. Chuuya just really wanted to get this conversation over with as fast as possible.

He sighed and lowered himself down onto the hotel bed. Seriously, it fucking sucked that he had to share a bed with Dazai again. But, guess they can never be too safe with this whole charade. At least it was almost over. Just one more night. Their plane back to LA leaves tomorrow evening.

Chuuya looked around the room. He had barely unpacked his carry-on sized suitcase even though they had stayed here for four days. And by the looks of it, neither had Dazai. Guess they both had similar approaches to staying in somewhere temporary and new. Why get comfortable when leaving is inevitable?

That’s why it was weird when Chuuya’s eyes caught sight of two familiar looking black leather notebooks resting on top of the hotel room’s desk. Curiosity getting the better of him, Chuuya moved up from his position on the bed and over to the desk. He sat down in the chair, internally cringing at the creaking noise of the chair underneath him.

Chuuya ran his fingers over the worn leather of the notebook located on top of the other and then flipped open the cover. Huh, he was right. These were Dazai’s journals that practically dominated his life during filming of Shuuji Tsushima. What the hell were they doing here?

Well, it’s not like Dazai was here anyway. Chuuya’s poor justification was the only thing he needed before he began to flip through the journal aimlessly. Some of the stuff was boring. Just what Dazai imagined Shuuji’s favorite food was, what his morning routine was like, maybe if he had a favorite color. Some pages were even filled with a doodles made up of black scribbles.

It was only when Chuuya got about three-fourths into the first journal, where his name was written clearly, that Chuuya’s hands froze.


I think I’m in love with Chuuya.


Chuuya’s heart stopped. He read the line over and over. He flipped through the pages before and after just to make sure that the handwriting lined up. Just to make sure that this wasn’t one of Dazai’s pranks to cause him more pain.

When Chuuya found nothing, he slumped back in the chair. Chuuya’s eyes were swimming with the words on the page. His thoughts were dominated with ‘Dazai loves me.’

He didn’t realize he was smiling until his face immediately went dark. If this was true, and Dazai did actually love Chuuya, then what the fuck were the past couple months about? Why had Chuuya gone through all this confusion if Dazai had reciprocated his feelings the entire time?

Chuuya was furious. Now, he didn’t care if this was an invasion of privacy, Chuuya needed to know what had happened. And since Dazai was no help, maybe these journals would give Chuuya all the answers to the inner workings of Dazai’s brain.

He snatched the journal, clutching it close to his chest, and started from the beginning. This time he read every single line, analyzing if there was a deeper meaning behind even the most mundane of thoughts.


How Shuuji copes with stress: distance, closing himself off, control

How Shuuji copes with failure: self-harm, suicide attempts, pushing those who care away

How Shuuji attempts to feel something: self-harm, purging, making himself hurt

How Shuuji expresses happiness: ?


Starting from now on I am going to try and embody Shuuji, inside and out. Every time I have to respond to something, I am going to think, ‘what would Shuuji do?’ I think that will really help make it more authentic.


The thought of forcing myself to eat is physically and mentally exhausting. I think it would be easier if I just skipped meals. Besides, it would help me get into the mindset of Shuuji.


Chuuya called me today. That made me smile. I miss him.


Chuuya told me to eat today. I tried to eat some canned crab, but the pungent smell after one bite was too much and I had to throw it up. Maybe I’ll start with something less off-putting tomorrow.


All I ever feel is numb anymore. I don’t miss playing music. I don’t miss LA. I don’t miss eating. I just want to feel again.


Forgive me.


Fitzgerald had to cover up a suicide attempt today. I told Fitzgerald I was trying to get into the mindset of Shuuji during his final scenes. Seemed like he saw right through that lie. I guess dying is going to have to wait until after I finish this role.


Chuuya texted me a picture of a book he read which he thought I would really like. I really wish he would text me a picture of his face.


There’s a part of me that is glad Shuuji would result to self-harm. I haven’t felt the blade of a knife in so long. My fingers are itching already. He must enjoy the rush of adrenaline he feels every time he lifts a blade to his skin. I enjoy the tingle.


Forgive me.


I almost told Chuuya that I loved him tonight. He looked so beautiful on top of that Ferris Wheel, the words practically fell out of my mouth. Thank whatever pitiful Gods that are up there who pushed Chuuya into my lap. I almost made him obligated to care about me.


Telling Chuuya that I didn’t like him back was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But this will be better for him. He won’t have to spend time worrying about me. So when I inevitably die, he won’t hurt as much.


I know that Shuuji wouldn’t be the type of person to keep something that someone gave to him. But I just can’t give away the sheep Chuuya won for me. No matter if it is what I should do. I miss him so much.


Did I fuck up?


Today was the first day in months that I ate a full sandwich!


I know that Chuuya would kill me if he found out how many new scars I’ve added. But I’ve found a new way to hurt myself that wouldn’t cause bodily harm. Hopefully he’ll forgive this. Pushing him away physically and mentally causes me more pain than anything else. But at least I know that I’m real. Seeing the hurt on Chuuya’s face helps me know that what I’m saying is true. I feel awful. But at least I feel alive.


Kissing Chuuya is so much harder than I remembered it being. I really thought I had my feelings under control but then he was right there and fuck... I think I’m still in love with him. I thought I told myself that wasn’t allowed. I think more punishment is in order.


Fuck fuck fuck fuck


What is wrong with me?


Chuuya eyes stung with the unshed tears threatening to spill out. He couldn’t believe what he had just read. Fuck, he really had no idea what Dazai was going through. During filming, Chuuya had always hated Shuuji. He thought the character got way into Dazai’s head, and if this journal was anything to go by, was still in Dazai’s head.

It wasn’t fair. Dazai didn’t deserve this amount of pain, and especially the need to think that he had to self-inflict it. Chuuya felt completely and utterly helpless in this moment. And also furious. How could Dazai not see that Chuuya was right in front of him, willing to help fight his demons.

Chuuya clutched the second notebook close to his chest, and began worrying on his thumb, lost in thought. He had no idea how he was going to bring this up to Dazai.

Actually, now that he stopped to think about it, there was no way this was an accident. There is no way Osamu “genius” Dazai accidentally left these journals out for anyone to see. He wanted Chuuya to see this. He wanted Chuuya to find out what was going on without actually opening up.

What a fucking coward.

Twenty minutes later the door to the hotel room opened with a click. The second Dazai stepped past the threshold, Chuuya threw the journal he was holding with all his might.

“How dare you,” he raged.

Dazai barely had enough time to side step before the journal came hurtling towards him. Luckily, he moved just enough so it landed with a hard thud against the white door behind him. Dazai’s eyes travelled down until they were resting on the journal. It had fallen open, whatever words staring back at Dazai threateningly.

Chuuya could feel the electricity in the room; and it was all radiating from his fury.

“You fucking child,” Chuuya continued, “Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me about any of this?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Dazai replied.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Chuuya snapped, “Drop the act for five minutes and answer my damn question.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Dazai replied, almost as if he was still trying to convince himself of that fact. “It’s not my responsibility to open up to you.”

“Bullshit,” Chuuya screamed. He took a deep breath and started again, “Dazai, we had a good thing going. I told you about how I need to be perfect and showed you my scars. You think that wasn’t enough proof to show you that I care?”

Dazai bowed his head, not replying.

Chuuya did instead, “You must know that this isn’t healthy for you, right?”

Dazai nodded slowly.

“Then why,” Chuuya croaked out, finally letting the tears fall down his face. “Then why didn’t you reach out to me for help?”

“Why would anyone care about me?” Dazai whispered, “I don’t care about myself. I can’t fathom that anyone could possibly care about me.”

“Look at me, Dazai,” Chuuya muttered.

No response. Dazai’s eyes were still fixated on the journal.

“Dazai,” Chuuya growled, getting more fed up, “Look at me.”

Still no movement.

Chuuya made his way over to Dazai until he was crowding his personal space. Chuuya then grabbed a fistful of Dazai’s hair and angled his face so Dazai was forced to look at Chuuya.

“Does this look like the face of someone who doesn’t fucking care?”

Dazai’s eyes widened, taking in the redness of Chuuya’s eyes and cheeks. The tear stains already streaking down to Chuuya’s chin.

“I thought you were pretending,” he mumbled, still in disbelief.

Chuuya sucked in a shaky breath. “What more could I have done to show you that it was genuine? Tell you that I loved you?”

Dazai’s eyes looked like they were beginning to glass over. “Loved?” He repeated.

“I’ve been trying to get over you, you bastard,” Chuuya replied, letting Dazai’s hair go. At least he was still looking at Chuuya.

However, Dazai’s eyes darkened significantly. “See, I told you,” he said, “No one cares about me. Not really. Not for long.”

All Chuuya saw next was red. Chuuya didn’t realize that he swung his arm and punched Dazai square in the face until he saw Dazai sprawled on the floor. Well, that’s one way to let out his frustration.

“I care about Osamu Dazai,” Chuuya clarified, “But who’s in front of me isn’t him. You’re still Shuuji Tsushima. I can’t care about someone who isn’t real.”

Dazai stared up at Chuuya in awe. Almost as if Chuuya had cracked the code to single hardest puzzle known to man.

Chuuya knelt down until he was at Dazai’s level. Even with Dazai clutching his jaw in pain, hair flying in every which way, and lanky limbs looking like dead weight, he somehow didn’t look like a lost cause.

Chuuya cupped both of Dazai’s cheeks, incredibly mindful of the one he just punched. Dazai let out a shaky breath. He turned his head to the side, closed his eyes, and pressed a long kiss to Chuuya’s palm.

“I lost you, didn’t I?” Dazai barely breathed out, eyes still closed.

Chuuya smiled sadly. “I don’t know. Talk to me again when you find Dazai.”

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, Chuuya and Dazai didn’t speak once they got back home. The plane ride had been awkward to say the least, since Dazai didn’t dare open his mouth to try and crack jokes and alleviate tension while Chuuya hardly acknowledged Dazai’s presence. Surprisingly, however, Chuuya was okay with the much needed distance.

Unlike the last time Dazai left Chuuya’s side, there was an unspoken agreement that when Dazai was ready he would be the one to reach out to Chuuya. Chuuya had done all he could at this point, there should be no guilt on his end.

Last time, Chuuya was left confused, impulsive, and angry. Now, he was far more subdued. Instead of reaching for a bottle of wine, Chuuya was far more content to just relax with music. Instead of watching shitty rom-coms, he watched basketball on TV or read books.

It still hurt like a motherfucker to know that the person he was in love with wasn’t currently present with him, but Chuuya at least had hope. Even if it was just a sliver of hope, at least it was something.

That was another thing too. This whole “love” word being used so freely. That should have been an incredibly new and scary word to Chuuya. Due to starting his career so young, Chuuya had never really had the opportunity to meet someone outside of the music industry and fall in love.

He had always grown up listening, and hell even writing, love songs. Therefore, Chuuya had always had this idealized version of love. That it would leave him feeling warm and fuzzy; that he would just know looking at a person that they would be his one true love; that love was magical. He had never realized how fucking gullible he was.

Falling in love with Dazai wasn’t nearly as romantic or instantaneous as all of the love songs he had heard before implied. It was so easy to fall in love with Dazai, that Chuuya missed it. If it weren’t for Dazai pointing it out - albeit just to hurt him - Chuuya may have never realized how he truly felt for the damned bastard.

Even though Dazai was full of shit, he did get one thing right. It was so natural for Chuuya to fall in love. So fitting for their dynamic. Chuuya’s emotions towards Dazai had always been super-charged, he had always thought he hated Dazai. But, looking back on it, that may not be the whole truth.

Chuuya could admit it now, that Dazai was really fucking talented. He truly was a genius at everything that he did. What Chuuya hated wasn’t necessarily Dazai as a person, it was the Dazai persona that he had come to associate with Dazai himself.

The Dazai that Chuuya knew now wasn’t anything like the smug bastard who made everything from playing the piano to singing in perfect pitch look easy. Chuuya now understood that Dazai was just as flawed as every other human being. He had scars, and demons, and understood humanity in a way that most people could only dream to achieve.

The one thing that stayed consistent from Dazai and Dazai was how much he loved to annoy Chuuya. However, Chuuya didn’t mind it nearly as much as before. In fact, Chuuya enjoyed challenging Dazai. He thrived off of being able to call Dazai out, to push him right back, to try and help further Dazai as a person because he was never going to go easy on him.

Falling in love with Dazai was so seamless, that it didn’t scare Chuuya one bit. And while it perhaps should’ve left Chuuya running in the exact opposite direction away from Dazai, it didn’t.

Chuuya tried to convey all of that into the first genuine love song he had ever written.

A few months ago, he started to convey his feelings into a song, but something still felt off. Originally, he sent a rough version to Kouyou, and while she said she liked it, Chuuya could tell that something was off. Listening back to his original demo now, he instantly identified that he wasn’t singing from the heart.

The pain was there, but the love wasn’t.

And that was what truly set a love song apart from a love song. Love songs were always too fucking generic. Either the singer drones on about how they lost someone and how much it hurts, or they sing an upbeat ballad about how fucking happy they are. From Chuuya’s limited knowledge of love, neither painted an accurate picture.

The thing that was so beautiful about his love for Dazai was how easily he could get hurt. Could and did, Chuuya would argue. To have love without pain, and to have pain without love, just doesn’t make sense. The reason why Chuuya hurt so bad after Dazai left was because he was in love. If he truly felt nothing for Dazai, then him leaving should have logically left Chuuya with the same nothing-type feeling.

That wasn’t nearly the case.

As a result, Chuuya tried to pour in all of his emotions into the edited version of the song. He still really liked the general rise and fall of the instrumentals, but what needed serious tweaking were the lyrics.

Predictably, the second Chuuya got home he holed himself in his studio. He spent nearly two weeks perfecting a song that truly captured the rollercoaster his heart went through by loving Dazai. And when he was done, Chuuya truly believed he had written a love song unlike anything he ever had before.



Chuuya could not have been more surprised when he looked at his ringing phone and saw the contact name ‘Mackerel’ flashing back at him. It had only been two and half weeks since he and Dazai had properly spoken, apart from a few random texts and Twitter conversations. Had Dazai really sorted himself out in such little time?

“Uh, hello?” Chuuya asked, answering the phone tentatively.

“Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed over the receiver.

“Hi, Dazai,” Chuuya said, small smile already appearing on his face.

“Hi, Chuuya,” Dazai said, a little breathless.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Chuuya was so taken aback by the obvious happiness in Dazai’s voice that he completely forgot that Dazai called for a reason. Chuuya shook his head.

“So,” he said, “You called?”

“Oh, right,” Dazai said sheepishly. Apparently, he forgot as well. “I think we should go out soon. I don’t want to cause a scandal like last time.”

Chuuya huffed out a laugh. “You’re telling me. Did you see some of those tweets?”

“You thought the tweets were bad? Some of those gossip articles brought tears to my eyes.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Did you read Ranpo’s article? That one was scarily accurate.”

“Of course, I did. Ranpo is far too intelligent for his own good.”

Dazai and Chuuya burst into a fit of laughter. It should’ve been scary how easy it was for Chuuya to fall back in step with Dazai. But it wasn’t. It was really comforting. Even if this was temporary, at least it was obvious they could always return to something normal if they tried.

“Well,” Chuuya said after composing himself, “What did you have in mind?”

“Want to take a walk?”

“Is your wallet getting too thin?” Chuuya teased.

“Chuuya,” Dazai whined, “I am so poor. This is no laughing matter.”

“Oh, please, Mr. My Net Worth Is Higher Than Yours.”

“Has Chuuya been stalking me?”

“No, bastard, you’ve told me that before.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai exclaimed, “I had no idea you liked me enough to learn fun facts about the great Osamu Dazai!”

“I’m going to kill you.”


“Fuck yes.”

Dazai snickered. “Is it a date, then?”

“What? Me killing you? I mean, I guess. I haven’t determined how I’m going to kill you though.”

“No,” Dazai whined again. Over dramatic as always. “Me taking you on a nice romantic walk.”

“I know, idiot,” Chuuya replied, genuinely not knowing if Dazai was fucking with him or didn’t catch Chuuya’s joke. “Just give me two days, okay?”




Seeing Dazai in person proved a lot harder than Chuuya thought. After their phone call, Chuuya had a little bit of hope that being around each other would be easier than before. Dazai had sounded happier and maybe even a little lovestruck? But, Chuuya supposes that was far too much to ask for.

Dazai arrived at Chuuya’s apartment wearing light blue jeans and light brown knit sweater. Chuuya was dressed in a similar comfort level, dark blue jeans, long sleeve forest green shirt, and a matching forest green beanie.

It was awkward to say the least. Chuuya didn’t want to push Dazai to talking about his feelings, since there was no way he was having this conversation in public and it wasn’t his responsibility. It also seemed like Dazai was holding himself back from talking, obviously recognizing that things were different, and they couldn’t pretend that they were alright.

The phone call provided a buffer that Chuuya didn’t know he needed. Actually seeing Dazai’s face, led every memory of their fight rushing back to Chuuya. He was still hurting. Even though Chuuya had poured all of his raw emotions into a song he was damn proud of, it still didn’t mean that he was okay. Everything was still so fresh.

As a result, Dazai and Chuuya mostly walked and talked about work. Dazai had them driven out to a park along the outskirts of L.A. before they were left to chat for a couple hours.

First, Chuuya had asked Dazai about his movie. He hadn’t heard any updates in a long time. After they finished recording Still Still Still, Chuuya hadn’t heard anything else besides the song come out of Dazai’s mouth.

“So,” Chuuya said, fiddling his fingers with Dazai’s, “What’s the status of Stray Dogs?”

“Everything looks pretty good,” Dazai replied. “Last I heard they’re still in post-production, no setbacks, no need to reshoot any scenes. Hopefully a trailer soon.”

Chuuya nodded. “Are you excited to see it?”

Dazai sighed, heavy and tired. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Chuuya winced at Dazai’s lackluster response. It hurt to hear that Dazai was so indifferent about a movie he literally couldn’t stop gushing over during filming. But after reading Dazai’s journal, it made sense. If Chuuya were in Dazai’s position, he wouldn’t be looking forward to seeing himself play a character that sucked all the emotions out of him.

Chuuya squeezed Dazai’s hand reassuringly. It’s not that Chuuya pitied Dazai, if anything Chuuya was really proud of Dazai for saying those simple words. He was allowing himself to be honest and vulnerable with Chuuya. He’s not sure how many people were able to see this side of Dazai.

Daring to be bold, Chuuya even leaned up to press a soft kiss to Dazai’s cheek. Even though Dazai’s eyes blew only a fraction of a size bigger, Chuuya understood he had really caught Dazai by surprise. He smiled softly and they continued walking.

One of the things that Chuuya adored about California was how free he always felt. There were so many different types of landscapes. Right now, Chuuya and Dazai were walking among hundreds and hundreds of trees. Everywhere Chuuya turned there was a different unique tree, some turning brown due to age, some younger saplings, some with such distinct marks, scars, and scents. Chuuya could spend hours getting lost trying to commit each tree to memory.

On top of that, not even fifty miles away there lay a gigantic ocean, with just as many possibilities lying in it as this forest. If Chuuya wanted to feel safe, he could stand amongst the trees. If he wanted to feel connected to his roots, he had the opportunity to watch the ocean. If he wanted to feel humbled, all he had to do was walk outside his apartment throughout the modern, yet historic, city.

Then it was Dazai’s turn to ask Chuuya about what he has been up to.

“Can I ask Chuuya a question?”


“Have you started writing that song about me?”

Everything seemed to come to screeching halt. Chuuya’s heart skipped a beat as he tried to process what Dazai just asked. His heart seemed to get stuck in his throat. Chuuya was still moving, but only thanks to Dazai leading the way.

How the fuck did Dazai know that he was writing a song about him? That was meant to be incredibly personal, and also meant to be a surprise. Chuuya wasn’t great with his words. Especially when it came to Dazai, Dazai always managed to rile him up or make him too flustered to really express his feelings. He was hoping a song could help Dazai see how Chuuya still felt.

But that couldn’t happen if Dazai fucking knew about it. What was he missing? Had he told Dazai? Or was Chuuya really that predictable?

Sensing Chuuya’s apprehensiveness Dazai clarified, “Remember, the one we discussed during our very first meeting? Or is my slug being especially slow today?”

Oh fuck.

Chuuya breathed a small sigh of relief. That made sense. Dazai was trying to make sure that one of the last loose threads from their initial contract was being tied up. How did Chuuya even forget about that in the first place?

“I have a few ideas, but I’ve been kind of busy,” Chuuya lied. As if he hadn’t already polished off the song about Dazai, hadn’t cried while hearing the song spliced together for the first time, and wasn’t currently in the process of getting it approved by his record label.

Dazai nodded in approval. “That’s good. Chuuya just needs to get it done before the Oscars.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes. This smug bastard still thought he was going to win an Oscar. Even before he saw the final cut of his movie.

“Don’t worry, I’m on it,” Chuuya assured.

The rest of their walk was filled with similar tense small talk. The only time it wasn’t tense was when fans would sheepishly walk up to them and ask them questions and for pictures. Those breaks in conversation were much needed and well appreciated. Chuuya could only take his heart aching over Dazai’s distant mood for so long.

Dazai didn’t even ask to kiss Chuuya once. While a small part of Chuuya was disappointed, it was probably smart to let Dazai take the lead. He was the one who ultimately needed the time to reassess his situation.



The next three weeks followed the same routine. Dazai and Chuuya would only really communicate individually when necessary, instead increasing their Twitter interactions as if to show that they were happily goofing on each other.

Dazai had taken Chuuya out a couple more times. A coffee shop, a wine tasting event, another walk. All incredibly public and Dazai would always leave after dropping Chuuya off at his apartment. No goodbye kiss, no pestering Chuuya to let him in his apartment, no hint at a later texting conversation. Strictly business.

It was slowly starting to eat away at Chuuya’s insides. He wanted to talk to Dazai, he wanted to be able to help Dazai through his feelings. But that is exactly what held Chuuya back. This needed to be something that Dazai figured out on his own. If Chuuya helped him, Chuuya isn’t sure if he could trust that Dazai’s feelings were genuine or if they were Chuuya’s own feelings mimicked.

There was still quite a bit of Shuuji inside Dazai.

So while Chuuya was restless, he would wait until Dazai gave him a sign that he was mentally feeling better.

Until then, things resumed as usual. Their latest “date” was Dazai taking Chuuya out to a movie. Chuuya was a little confused since this was far more private than any of their previous dates, but Dazai had insisted, and actually seemed pretty excited to take Chuuya out.

It was some drama film Chuuya had never heard of, but he wasn’t buying the tickets so he really couldn’t complain. Dazai had also bought popcorn. Once inside the theater, Dazai led them to two seats within the back row. They hadn’t tried to hide their faces when walking into the theater, but hopefully they weren’t too disturbed.

Assuming Dazai wouldn’t eat any of the popcorn, Chuuya placed the bucket on his lap. As the trailers for upcoming movies rolled, Chuuya flicked popcorn into his mouth.

“What are we doing here, Dazai?” Chuuya asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

Dazai wasn’t even paying attention to the trailers. He had his phone open, brightness all the way up, and scrolling shamelessly. What the fuck? Why had Dazai even suggested coming here?

“For research, obviously,” Dazai replied, as if that made any sense.

“What does that-”

Before Chuuya could finish another trailer began which caught Dazai’s attention. He pocketed his phone quickly and brought his hands up to silence Chuuya.

“Shh,” he mock whispered, hand loosely covering Chuuya’s mouth.

Chuuya groaned and tugged Dazai’s hands away from his mouth. Nonetheless, Chuuya still watched the trailer with vague curiosity.

The trailer started with short shots of back alleys, dimly lit rooms, puddles of rain, and stray bullets hitting the ground below. The coloring seemed to be purposely muted as if to reflect how grim the situation was. Then the trailer moved onto to show the back silhouette of a man shrouded in darkness overlooking the city below from the top of a building. It was only when the man spoke that Chuuya instantly recognized his voice.

“I own all of this,” Dazai, no Shuuji, said looking melancholily below.

More shots of gunfire, fallen bodies, blood, money.

The shot was once again on Shuuji’s back. This time there was a clear glint reflecting off the blade in Shuuji’s hand.

“And yet,” Shuuji continued, “Nothing matters. There’s no game to be won.”

Shots of a clear day, families laughing happily in a park, cops looking at numbers of the lowest crime rate in history.

“What makes you so special?” Shuuji asked.

Shuuji was positioned differently though. His back was to the window, his front turned to the camera. As he spoke the camera panned up until it ended on Shuuji’s face.

Dazai looked so different as Shuuji. Physically they looked similar, obviously. The only difference being that half of Shuuji’s face was covered in bandages, a few splotches of dried blood on the cheek beneath the white gauze.

But it was what was behind the eyes that caught Chuuya’s attention. Shuuji looked like he had given up all motivation to live. There was no light behind those eyes, no reason for him to be talking. His shoulders were drawn tight, his posture perfect, as if he had trained himself to stand a certain way in order to always be the tallest person in the room. He oozed intelligence, arrogance, fear, and even something ominous all at the same time.

The next shot was a cut to a well synchronized gun fight, one continuous long frame of Atsushi and Akutagawa’s characters in a fight which looked to be as even as possible. Shuuji was off to the side surrounded by darkness, smirk on his face, laugher bubbling out of his mouth.

“Now this could be interesting,” Shuuji’s disembodied voice said as the screen faded to black.

Then the date for Stray Dogs’ release appeared on screen.

“Holy shit,” Chuuya whispered. And he wasn’t alone as it seemed the whole theater grew into a fit of muffled gasps and hushed whispers.

Chuuya turned so he was facing Dazai. Dazai’s eyes seemed to already be on Chuuya, and he shot Chuuya a smile once Chuuya was looking back at Dazai.

“Is this why you brought me here?”

“I wanted Chuuya to see it on the big screen. It was released today.”

“I cannot believe you didn’t send me a link like a normal person,” Chuuya huffed.

“I wanted to see Chuuya’s reactions in person,” Dazai said. “Chuuya is so expressive.”

Chuuya’s cheeks heated up. It wasn’t his fault the trailer actually looked really intriguing and seeing Dazai look like that had captivated him even further.

It seemed as if that was the last trailer as the movie theater’s lights dimmed. Chuuya silently lifted up the armrest separating him and Dazai until it was out of the way so he could scoot closer to Dazai. Dazai easily wrapped his arm around Chuuya’s shoulders and pulled him so Chuuya’s head was resting on Dazai’s shoulder.

“How does it end?” Chuuya whispered. The opening credits for the actual movie they were here to see played.

“I can’t spoil the ending, silly Chibi,” Dazai said, stealing some of Chuuya’s popcorn in the progress of replying.

Chuuya sighed. Both in frustration that Dazai wouldn’t tell him, and in awe that Dazai allowed Chuuya to see a character they both openly despised. It must have taken a lot of courage for Dazai to watch Chuuya watch Shuuji. Determined to reciprocate Dazai’s strength, Chuuya made up his mind to ask Dazai to listen to his song later tonight.

The movie’s title flashed across the screen. Before the initial dialogue began, Chuuya tilted his head so he could whisper in Dazai’s ear, “Can I show you something in my apartment tonight?”

Dazai didn’t say anything, but he squeezed Chuuya’s shoulder in acknowledgment.




osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 6h

i am so so so excited to share the first teaser trailer for stray dogs!!!! thank you all for the amazing support (〜 ̄▽ ̄)〜#straydogs



Atsushi Nakajima @beneaththemoonlight – 6h

Here’s a sneak peek for our new movie Stray Dogs! I really hope you enjoy! :) #straydogs



Ryuunosuke Akutagawa @TheRashoumon – 6h

‘Stray Dogs’ comes out this December. Please continue your ever-growing support. Thank you. #straydogs



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 20m

Dazai just showed me his new trailer and I could not be prouder!! Can’t wait to see the whole thing!



         osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 15m

         @taintedsorrow ily (╥﹏╥)


Laurie ☾ @tsushimasosamus - 10m

ngl #straydogs looks unreal that was only a two minute trailer and I can tell dazai killed that role. fuck me up




“So, what is it that you wanted to show me?” Dazai asked, not particularly looking at Chuuya. In fact, he was doing the very opposite of that, with his phone held high up to his face, scrolling.

Chuuya sighed, already regretting his decision. With the advantage of his hand still clasped in Dazai’s, Chuuya was able to simply tug Dazai towards his bedroom. Dazai noticing the direction which Chuuya was dragging him was what finally caught his attention. He pocketed his phone.

“Oh~” Dazai teased, “Chuuya wants to take me to bed~”

“I’m this close to never speaking to you ever again, asshole.”

Dazai laughed. True and genuine. It warmed Chuuya’s heart.

Once inside his room, Chuuya wiggled his hand free from Dazai’s and located his laptop on his bedside table. In the meantime, Dazai made himself comfortable on Chuuya’s bed. He even toed his shoes off at the foot of the bed so he could sit crisscrossed in the middle of the covers. Chuuya silently crawled over to Dazai.

“I was just wondering if you could give this song a listen to?” Chuuya asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure thing,” Dazai said, waving his hand dismissively.

Chuuya opened up his laptop, double clicked on the finished audio file, and hesitated over pressing play. Was he really ready to show this to Dazai? He had no idea if Dazai was ready to confront his feelings, but, fuck, Chuuya was. Now more than ever he wanted Dazai back. Chuuya just hoped this would be enough to show that he still cared.

Dazai looked quizzically at Chuuya, trying to assess the situation. Before Chuuya knew it, Dazai leaned over into his personal space and helped Chuuya click down on the trackpad to press play on the song.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Dazai whispered. He then retracted his body away from Chuuya’s, but not as far away as they were before. Dazai was hovering next to Chuuya.

The song began soft and slow. A simple guitar with a more prominent bass, piano, and drumline. The exact opposite of the majority of Chuuya’s songs. Even Chuuya’s voice started softer than usual after a thirty second instrumental.

More surprising, however, was that Chuuya decided to keep most of the lyrics in Japanese. Dazai seemed to hum approvingly at the choice after the first couple words were sung.

It wasn’t until the first chorus where everything exploded. Almost as if his voice and the guitar couldn’t stand being oppressed any longer. All at once, Chuuya’s voice started singing louder, the guitar’s riffs following not too long after to back him up. Chuuya felt Dazai tense up next to him.

And then after the chorus ended, Chuuya’s voice and the guitar backed down instantly, like the outburst hadn’t occurred at all. Chuuya had tried to use the juxtaposition in tones as a parallel for how often Dazai and Chuuya seemed to ignore their own issues.

Chuuya sang, “I believe,” softly in English next. The phrase tugged at his own goddamn heartstrings, even though he knew it was coming. The specific phrases he wanted to keep in the language a majority of his listeners would be able to understand meant the most to him. These next verse followed the general trend of being a softer lull, much like the intro.

Somehow, the next chorus was even more powerful than the last. Probably because there was a long guitar solo before it, building up in anticipation to Chuuya’s next outburst. But then the guitar stopped. Chuuya sang the beginning of the chorus devoid of any instruments, until finally, it was time for everything to come together.

The guitar, the bass, the piano, the drum, and Chuuya’s own voice, came together as one. If he was going to sing in Japanese, he was going to treat his voice as an instrument as well. Chuuya could feel his own desperation in the words he was singing, in the way all the instruments came together to build each other up.

After the chorus, there was another sensual moment for Chuuya to sing on his own. Begging to be heard.

As if sensing that another one of theirs was hurting, the guitar, bass, drum, and piano started playing together, trying desperately to help build the singer back up.

Once again, everything came together seamlessly. Chuuya’s voice was stronger than ever. He felt invigorated by everything helping him. But since he was playing the instrumentals as well, it was really him helping himself.

Just like the calm before the storm, Chuuya allowed himself to have one more acapella solo.

There was a constant rise and fall of the song. Of wanting to be heard to wanting to wanting blend in with the instruments and hide. From daring to be vulnerable to begging for reassurance. Toeing the line between love and pain.

The song ended with one more powerful bridge. Chuuya started singing, “I still remember,” before bleeding back into Japanese. With everything backing him up, Chuuya sang the loudest and strongest notes that he could muster. Every little frustration, doubt, hopeful anticipation, and love, in its most raw and pure form, went into producing those final cries.

And then it ended much like it began. Everything stopped. The piano was the only thing producing sound for the last few seconds of bleed off before the track signaled it was over.

Chuuya and Dazai sat in a tense silence. Chuuya couldn’t even tilt his head to the side to see Dazai’s reaction, much less see what he thought of it. It wasn’t like how Dazai was watching Chuuya during the Stray Dogs trailer, confident Chuuya would be impressed. Chuuya was terrified that Dazai would dismiss his feelings.

“What’s it called?” Dazai finally asked, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Haitoku no Koudo,” Chuuya replied.

“Beating heart,” Dazai easily translated.

Chuuya nodded in reply.

Dazai sighed softly. Finally, Chuuya turned his head to look at Dazai and felt his eyes widen involuntarily at the state of Dazai. Dazai’s eyes were misty, threatening to spill over the raw display of emotions Chuuya just poured into that song. Wordlessly, Chuuya scooted closer to Dazai so he was pressed against Dazai’s chest.

Dazai brought his arm up to loosely encircle Chuuya’s waist. They sat in silence once more, although this time it was far less tense, instead comforting.

“Was that really about...?” Dazai asked, his voice trailing off at the end, almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to admit what was right in front of him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of genius?” Chuuya huffed, “Of course it’s about you.”

“Chuuya, I-”

Chuuya cut Dazai off. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I have been working on this on and off for months now. When you asked me if I had started working on a song for you, I had. I just didn’t think I was going to be comfortable showing you so soon, but then you showed me the trailer and it just felt right, I guess.”

“This is how you feel?”

“This is how I feel.”

Dazai laughed sadly and pulled Chuuya in for a proper hug. “Chuuya Nakahara, you never fail to surprise me. I hope I can someday be enough for you.”

Chuuya closed his eyes, his ear pressed tight against Dazai’s chest. He could feel how quickly Dazai’s heart was racing. It reminded Chuuya that Dazai was alive, and real, and with him, and seemed so willing to want to learn how to feel again.

In this moment, Chuuya knew he made the right decision by waiting for Dazai.

He would wait an eternity if that’s what it took for Dazai to come back to him.

Dazai was already enough.

Chapter Text

Slowly but surely, things were getting better with Dazai. As with most things concerning him, it happened so subtly that Chuuya almost missed Dazai’s progress.

It was the small things which should have clued Chuuya in that Dazai was starting to find himself again. At least once a day Dazai would send Chuuya a picture of a meal that he was eating. The range of food varied frequently, sometimes it was small, like cheese and crackers, and other times it was a full crab dish, but without fail Chuuya would receive an artistic shot and a percentage with how much Dazai ate. Even though it never went over 50% completed, Chuuya was glad that Dazai was trying to include him in the more sensitive parts of his life.

However, Chuuya didn’t really think much of it. What really smacked Chuuya in the face was a video Dazai posted to Twitter. It was a short thirty second clip of Dazai playing the piano to the opening tune of Haitoku no Kodou.

That really caught Chuuya’s attention for two reasons.

One, since Chuuya had only played it for Dazai once, he was genuinely shocked that Dazai could play the opening melody perfectly. Chuuya had no idea how deep of an impact his song truly made on Dazai. Or how fucking talented Dazai was that he could just play something he only vaguely heard. Damn genius.

Two, one of the lines that had stuck with Chuuya ever since he read Dazai’s journal was that he lost all passion and motivation for music. This clip seemed to prove otherwise. The amount of concentration and pure bliss laced within the lines of Dazai’s face made it clear to Chuuya that he was trying to rediscover what he once loved.

Chuuya was so proud of Dazai.

As far as their “dates” went, they were still going out in public. It was still tense, obviously trying to skirt around the issue following them like a storm cloud, but for the most part they were getting better. As cliché as it was, time truly was the best healer. And every day that passed with new texts, phone calls, random Twitter mentions, and just being alone with his thoughts, really helped Chuuya heal from how much he was hurting.

If someone had told him a year ago that he was going to fall in love with Dazai and actually have the audacity to wait for the bastard, Chuuya would have laughed in their face. But now, it felt like the simplest thing to do. Each day made it easier. Each day gave Chuuya more hope that they were getting closer and closer like they never had before.



Chuuya looked at himself in the mirror. Fuck, he should not still be getting nervous over seeing Dazai. It’s been what, six, maybe seven months since they started this whole charade? Chuuya should be unfazed by Dazai’s bullshit, but he supposed a lot has happened in such a short span of time.

He was wearing a cropped black leather jacket, with a blue and white striped shirt underneath, and dark blue jeans. Chuuya was also wearing a matching deep blue colored hat, black choker, and usual black gloves. Dazai had suggested a walk, and while that should have meant something a little more casual, Chuuya also understood that they were probably going to be bombarded by photos. Kills two birds with one stone.

Chuuya also had no idea where Dazai was taking him. Was it really just a walk around Downtown L.A.? That seemed so... boring. Especially considering this was not the first walk they had taken in the past month. But, Chuuya supposes that he really can’t complain. He hasn’t really offered any help for “date” ideas, anyhow.

Only a couple of minutes later than agreed upon, Chuuya heard a knock at his door. Dazai smiled on the other side of the doorway. He was wearing a thinly checkered purple and white long sleeve shirt, which was tucked into khaki pants, and held together with a brown belt. Dazai was also wearing matching brown colored shoes and watch. Fuck, he looked way more casual than Chuuya.

“Hi,” Dazai said, “You look good.”

“Tch,” Chuuya scoffed. “I know I do, asshole.”

Dazai chuckled. He then brought his hand forward and interlaced his fingers with Chuuya’s. “Ready to go?”

Chuuya shrugged in response. “Lead the way.”

“The way” in this case started in Downtown L.A., much like Chuuya thought. Because Chuuya didn’t live that far away from the heart of the city, they decided to walk the couple extra blocks. The weather was incredibly nice too, L.A. in the Autumn led to weather which was sinfully pleasant, Chuuya felt incredibly snug in his jacket and didn’t mind not taking a car at all.

After they walked up and down a couple blocks, occasionally waving at not so subtle fans trying to take their picture, and sharing a few staged kisses, Dazai started to tug Chuuya in a perpendicular direction.

“What are you doing?” Chuuya hissed, very much thrown off as to where Dazai was leading him.

“I’m taking you on a nice, romantic, walk,” Dazai replied, unfazed by Chuuya’s wariness. “Is that not allowed?”

“I suppose,” Chuuya mumbled, squeezing Dazai’s hand in the process.

Dazai led Chuuya through Downtown, passed Skid Row, passed the Toy District until they were in a familiar area, covered with red and white lanterns. Buildings that imitated ones Chuuya had looked up to for the first decade of his life, trees and flowers that Chuuya could recognize from a mile away.

“Little Tokyo?” Chuuya said, exasperated as they rounded a couple buildings, and everything became far more clear. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dazai asked. He held up his free hand to his heart and clutched at it overdramatically. “You didn’t want to see a slice of home?”

Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t this like the single worst place you could’ve taken us? Everyone is going to know who we are.”

Dazai considered it for a minute, before dismissing Chuuya with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense. We should be giving the people what they want after all!”

Chuuya estimated maybe two minutes of peace after they stepped on the gray cobblestone of Little Tokyo’s main pavilion before fans bombarded them from every which way. It wasn’t chaotic, but it was certainly overwhelming. Dazai was eating this up, the fucking asshole.

At some point Chuuya and Dazai had to let go of each other’s hands to meet the requests of their fans to take pictures, to sign autographs, to answer questions. After a little while longer, Chuuya barely even registered that Dazai was by his side. There seemed to be an unspoken ordering that those who wanted to see Chuuya would congregate on his side, likewise with Dazai.

Chuuya probably would’ve forgotten that he was supposed to be here with Dazai entirely if he didn’t feel Dazai slap his ass at some point. Of course, Chuuya retaliated by kicking Dazai in the shin. Serves him right.

The only saving grace was that, for the most part, everyone was considerate. No one person spoke to Chuuya for too long, and after a couple minutes, each fan moved out of the way so someone else could get their chance to speak to him. That made it enjoyable, at least.

Chuuya absolutely loved interacting with people who were just as passionate about his music as he was himself. He always loved asking each fan if they had a favorite song of his and why.Hearing everyone’s interpretations, seeing the passion shining on their faces, and the vigor with how they spoke, really fired Chuuya up to create even better songs.

He was never upset that he had to interact with fans. If anything, that was one of the best perks of the job. That being said, it was getting to be a bit much when everyone asked him questions about Dazai’s new movie as if he wasn’t standing just a couple feet away from him. Plus, he was supposed to be on a “date” with Dazai. This hardly counted as date material.

Dazai seemed to sense Chuuya’s restlessness because after nearly an hour of being courteous, Dazai finally spoke up. The mass of people seemed to be thinning out, but that didn’t mean anything. Chuuya knew the drill. Enough time had passed that anyone who was decently close within the area would be bombarding them soon.

“Everyone,” Dazai announced, cheery tone lacing his voice.

As if on cue, all of those surrounding Dazai and Chuuya fell silent and shifted their attention to Dazai. Even Chuuya lowered his hands and returned the phone of a girl whom he had just posed for a picture with.

Dazai possessively wrapped an arm around Chuuya’s waist and tugged Chuuya close to his chest. “Thank you for being so fond of us, we appreciate all your support. But my dear Chuuya and I are currently on a date, and we really want to spend time together. If you could please leave us to it, we would really thank you.”

Chuuya breathed a sigh of relief against Dazai’s chest. He also spoke up, “It was really nice meeting you all.”

Even though it was a slow process, their fans dissipated from the area. A few seemed to linger around, but it’s not like Chuuya was going to chew them out for it.

With his arm still wrapped around Chuuya’s waist, Dazai began to steer him away from the shops that they had been stuck lingering outside, and throughout the other areas. Chuuya really didn’t mind how clingy Dazai was acting.

They began to make their way to the Little Tokyo Watchtower. A beautiful red structure which lay in the middle of the dining pavilion. Chuuya looked upwards at the traditional architecture of the stained red wood beams, the classic pilings on the black roof.

“Do you miss it?” Dazai asked.

“Miss what?” Chuuya asked in reply, scrunching his eyebrows.


“Oh,” Chuuya said.

He thought about that for a minute. It’s not like Chuuya didn’t go back to Japan. After leaving when he was eighteen, Chuuya had been back to his home country probably once a year for a couple weeks at a time. Primarily for touring, but it’s not like he had completely cut out where he had come from.

But that posed the question: did he miss it? Chuuya supposed he missed the constantly familiarly of speaking his native language and eating food that he really enjoyed. He also missed some of the landmarks that he had come to associate with home.

Then again, Chuuya was a pretty free spirit. He hated that when he stood within a crowd of Japanese men, he was the only one with striking red hair and brilliant blue eyes. He despised that he wasn’t allowed to speak his mind, constantly being oppressed by tradition. And the work regiment, on top of all of that, was taxing, and sometimes would take the fun out of performing.

Chuuya liked to experiment with all sorts of different things and coming to the U.S. allowed him to do so in ways he could’ve never imagined. Plus, selfishly, he’s not sure if he would’ve ever been able to have this relationship with Dazai if they were still confined within the Japanese entertainment industry.

“I don’t know,” Chuuya finally said. “Sometimes, I guess. Why? Do you?”

Dazai shrugged. “Same for me. Sometimes I miss the smell of the sea from Yokohama.”

“I didn’t know you were from Yokohama.”

Dazai nodded, tugging them away from the center of the pavilion. “Where were you from again?”


Dazai nodded again. “Did you ever visit Yokohama?”

“Maybe for a few concerts,” Chuuya said. “But after I turned fifteen, I was permanently working in Tokyo. I couldn’t really get away from it all even if I wanted to.”

“You’re telling me Chuuya didn’t always have the capability to ride a motorcycle and go wherever Chuuya wanted?”

Chuuya laughed and bumped his shoulder against the side of Dazai’s ribcage. “Funny,” he said sarcastically.

Dazai laughed alongside Chuuya. “Well, I’d love to show you around sometime.”

“I might just take you up on that.”

The rest of the afternoon was easy going. Chuuya and Dazai made their way through the shopping and dining pavilion of Little Tokyo unbelievably slow because they kept making unnecessary stops. Even with the knowledge that more of their fans could find them with more questions at any minute, Chuuya and Dazai continued to linger around the same area.

The first stop was when Chuuya caught the scent of nikuman being freshly heated up at a vendor’s stand, to which he scurried his way out of Dazai’s hold in order to buy a couple pork buns for the both of them. Since Dazai refused to buy anything today, stingy bastard that he was, Chuuya generously used his own money and then handed one of the buns to Dazai.

Dazai eyed the food warily but ate it nonetheless. His bites were slow, deliberate, and he only ate about half of the already small snack food. Chuuya shot him a tender look but didn’t chastise Dazai’s actions. Instead, Chuuya wordlessly finished the other half without teasing Dazai.

The second stop was in a small DVD and CD store. Dazai practically ripped Chuuya’s arm off by pulling him inside, claiming that he saw his first debut’s album from the window. He was right, of course, and excitedly flipped over the CD case. Dazai ran his fingers across the print of his songs, smiling, an obvious nostalgia on his face.

Chuuya glanced down at the CD and scrunched up his nose.

“It took me fucking forever to listen to your shitty ass album,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms.

Dazai chuckled. “Are you still mad that my album outsold yours?”

“I am not,” Chuuya hissed.

“You are too!” Dazai waved his index finger in front of Chuuya’s face, causing Chuuya to go cross-eyed looking at Dazai’s disrespecting finger.

“It’s not my fault people like pop music over rock music,” Chuuya huffed.

“Or my dashing good looks over your ugly hats.”


Dazai laughed. He then looked over to his left and pulled out another CD from the dozens of others in the rack. On the front was Chuuya, usual smirk on his face, looking off to the side. The picture cut off so only above his waist was showing, where Chuuya was wearing a leather jacket, gloves, choker, and hat. He was also posed in such a way where he had a traditional microphone hooked underneath his arms and resting on his shoulders.

“Look at this handsome boy,” Dazai mocked, even adding a low whistle.

“Gross. I was fifteen, that should be illegal.”

Dazai laughed again, still clutching the CD. After he composed himself, Dazai held up the CD to Chuuya’s scowling face. His eyes darted from the posed fifteen-year-old Chuuya to the scowling twenty-two-year-old Chuuya.

“What?” Chuuya asked, exasperated.

“Nothing,” Dazai said, small smirk already appearing on his face.

“You’re so fucking annoying, just tell me.”

“I was just thinking that I like Chuuya’s longer hair now more.”

Chuuya felt his cheeks heat up. He awkwardly lowered his head, pretending to browse the other titles, as a way to advert his eyes from Dazai’s teasing glance.

“Whatever,” Chuuya said, trying to fake disinterest.

They spent a long time in the CD section. After a while even Chuuya started to sift through old CDs and excitedly talk about how he wrote this song, or how much he loved this other band, and even paid Dazai’s music a couple compliments.

Then Dazai moved them over to the movies. His eyes drifted over film after film, some of them traditional Japanese while others were dubbed versions of popular American titles. Dazai would occasionally hold up a film and tell Chuuya how much each one inspired him to want to become an actor. How each film brought a story which touched real issues in such an authentic way. Chuuya watched in silence, taking in every single word of Dazai’s ramblings.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya finally spoke up after they left the store.

Dazai broke his no spending rule by purchasing one of his favorite movies which he hadn’t seen since after leaving Japan. Dazai hummed, signaling he was listening. They were, once again, slowly making their way through the area.

“Do you seriously think that you’re going to win an Oscar?”

“Chuuya, I put everything into that role,” Dazai said deadly serious. “I don’t have a doubt in my mind that I did more than any other actor this year.”

Chuuya tensed up at the confession. He had no idea that Dazai was going to genuinely answer such a trivial question. Usually Dazai responded with such a light and cocky tone that Chuuya genuinely forgot how much Dazai put into playing Shuuji. Everything, from the lost weight, to the self-harm, to the journals, and even Dazai’s distant attitude was a direct result of trying to win this damn award.

And all for what? Just to prove to himself that he was great at everything? Honestly, Chuuya isn’t quite sure what Dazai’s motivation behind acting was. Initially, when Dazai had told him, Chuuya assumed it was because Dazai was bored with singing. But now that Chuuya knew more about Dazai, he could tell that was all wrong. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have pushed himself to the brink of death.

“For once,” Chuuya replied, squeezing Dazai’s hand comfortingly, “I really hope you’re right.”

Chuuya returned to his apartment far later than he anticipated. His afternoon with Dazai bled into the early evening because every single thing they looked at in Little Tokyo reminded one of them of a story they just had to share. Chuuya had said that he only missed Japan sometimes, and while that is true, it was nice to reminisce. Dazai made it easy to think about all the good times.



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 4d

I was scrolling through old photos and found this video @nolongerhuman sent me while he was filming. Look at how dumb he is



            osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 4d

            @taintedsorrow smh that was meant to be private (✧ᴗ✧✿)


            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 4d

            @nolongerhuman Bitch you not knowing how to work your phone’s camera just because one of your eyes is covered is one of the funniest things I have ever seen


            osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 4d

            @taintedsorrow (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)


            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 4d

            @nolongerhuman Don’t be a brat. I’ve wanted to share that for MONTHS but I didn’t want to spoil your costume design. You look cute


            osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 4d

            @taintedsorrow ( /)w(\✿)



Chuuya looked around the restaurant Dazai had selected. It was far nicer than anything they had been to up until this point. The carpet was a deep purple, the tables a dark mahogany wood with black tablecloths draped over, abstract art seemed to be on every wall, and the lighting was dark.

This was very clearly an expensive place. Chuuya even felt a little bad that Dazai was paying. Maybe he should split the check?

He also felt way too underdressed for the occasion. Even though Dazai had told him to wear a suit, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel that the cream colored tuxedo he decided on wasn’t nearly as prestigious as this place demanded.

As if sensing Chuuya’s apprehension, Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s hand in comfort.

“Relax,” Dazai said with a small, sweet, smile, “You’ll fit right in, I promise.”

Chuuya felt a little tension from his shoulders fall away after hearing Dazai’s words. He supposes that this place is high class enough to fit his refined tastes. But still, this was way out of Dazai’s usual price range. Especially considering he had barely paid for anything over their past couple “dates.” What was Chuuya missing?

After Dazai gave his name to the hostess, she quickly led them to a secluded table nestled against the wall adjacent to the windows. Chuuya was pleasantly surprised how inviting the restaurant seemed to be. Even with the color scheme primarily consisting of maroon and plum undertones, it was an incredibly lively atmosphere.

As expected, Chuuya ordered wine with his meal. What was unexpected, however, was Dazai also entertaining the idea of drinking wine tonight, as he ended up splitting the bottle with Chuuya.

Conversation was easy, only a couple minutes after sitting down, Dazai was sharing a story about a dog which tried to bite him. Chuuya insisted that most likely wasn’t what really happened, but Dazai persisted in telling the story like fact. Chuuya found himself smiling the entire time.

For their meals, Chuuya ordered some sort of fish dish while Dazai ordered pasta. Chuuya was pleasantly surprised that Dazai not only ordered something that he didn’t absolutely love, but also that he ate every last bite.

Chuuya was so shocked that he stared at Dazai, completely forgetting about the forkful of fish he was holding up to his mouth. He didn’t intend to be rude, but Chuuya hadn’t seen Dazai finish a meal it what felt like forever. This was progress that Chuuya never dreamed he would witness so quickly.

“What?” Dazai said, slurping up the last bit of his noodles.

The disgusting display shook Chuuya out of his trance. He groaned and quickly shoved the forkful of food into his mouth, as if to pretend he hadn’t been staring.

“Nothing,” Chuuya said after swallowing.

Dazai eyed Chuuya knowingly. Neither commented on it further. The bigger the deal they made out of it, the harder it would be for Dazai to recover if he ever relapsed.

Apparently Dazai was full of surprises tonight. As they were wrapping up the main course, Dazai asked their waiter if they could look at the dessert’s menu. Chuuya felt his heart jump into his throat. They had never once ordered something as frivolous as dessert on one of their fake dates. What the fuck was Dazai playing at?

Dazai opened the smaller menu and skimmed through the options.

“What do you want, mon petite rockstar?”

Chuuya glanced up at Dazai. “Uh, I don’t really care, Dazai.”

Dazai hummed. “What about the chocolate lava cake?”

“I’m wearing white, dumbass.”

“But you said you didn’t care~”

“Dammit, Dazai, I take it back. I don’t want to spill, or rather I don’t want you to fling chocolate at me like a goddamn child.”

“Wishy washy~ Chuuya’s no fun~”

Chuuya just glared at Dazai before returning to look at his menu. He skimmed the options and seemed vaguely interested in the cheesecake option. He could entertain that.

“Well what does bossy Chuuya want, then?”

“How about the cheesecake?”

Dazai brought his hand up his chin and rubbed the area in deep thought. Before Dazai could respond to Chuuya, their waiter returned asking if they had decided.

Dazai snapped his finger, coming to a conclusion. “Yes, we have,” he declared. “Could we have the chocolate lava cake?”

“Dazai,” Chuuya hissed.

The waiter glanced confused over to Chuuya. “Are you sure?” He asked.

Dazai waved a hand dismissively in Chuuya’s direction.

“Don’t mind him, he suggested it,” Dazai assured. “He just doesn’t want to be needy.”

The waiter nodded and left with their order. Chuuya glared daggers at Dazai the second their waiter turned around.

“Why do I even bother?” Chuuya sighed.

He crossed both of his arms in front of him on the table. Chuuya then buried his head between his arms and sighed, half annoyed and half joking. Vaguely, Chuuya could make out Dazai chuckling across from him.

A couple minutes passed in comfortable silence. Dazai hummed a tune Chuuya recognized as one from his latest album, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, Chuuya preferred to keep his head down and listen to Dazai. Chuuya only lifted his head when he felt Dazai’s foot nudge his ankle, signaling that their waiter was returning with their dessert.

Once the waiter was at the edge of their table, he placed their chocolate lava cake in the middle of Dazai and Chuuya, handed them two new forks, and left. Chuuya couldn’t help but admit that even though he didn’t want to eat the dessert at first, it looked really tempting.

Dazai cut into the center of the cake and both watched as the warm chocolate sauce flowed down and soaked the bottom of plate. Wordlessly, Dazai and Chuuya alternated taking bites of the small dessert in front of them until it was completely gone.

As their dinner was finally winding down, Dazai was swirling his fork through the left-over chocolate, obviously lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Chuuya asked, watching as Dazai continued to fidget.

“Who says I’m thinking about something?” Dazai replied, still dazed and confused.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes. “You’re always thinking. Spill.”

Dazai sighed, overdramatic. He let the fork fall out of hand and clatter against the plate. Chuuya barely registered the sound as Dazai gracefully reached for one of his hands and interlaced their fingers.

“I actually have a question to ask you.”

“Is that what this was about? To butter me up?”

Dazai chuckled nervously. “I suppose, yeah.”

“Well go on.” Chuuya nodded, listening attentive.

Dazai fiddled with Chuuya’s fingers as he spoke, “We’re going back to Yokohama in a week for promotions. I was going to ask you when we were in Little Tokyo if you wanted to come with me, but I thought you would say no. But I really do want you to come with me. If you want to, of course.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened involuntarily. He blinked owlishly at Dazai.

“You want me to come with you to Japan?” Chuuya clarified, “Specifically your home?”

Dazai lowered his gaze, focusing strictly on how his fingers were so much longer with Chuuya’s, but still seemed to fit so well.

“Only if you want to,” he repeated.

Chuuya used his free hand to flick Dazai in the cheek. “Of course, I’ll go with you, you idiot.”

Chapter Text

Airports were never Chuuya’s favorite places to go. He hated the excessive amount of downtime waiting to board, waiting for the plane to take off, waiting for the plane to land. Essentially, airports were like a giant limbo, only existing to take one person far away. Chuuya hated that it wasn’t instantaneous. Sitting in airports always made him antsy.

At least he and Dazai decided to heavily disguise themselves today. The last thing Chuuya needed was to accidentally yell at a fan because he was already on edge. Chuuya didn’t put it beneath himself to scream over someone looking at him the wrong way.

Chuuya wore black sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a jean jacket. To cover his face, he stuffed as much hair as possible into a ballcap and even wore a black facemask. The facemask was partly because he hadn’t been to Japan in so long that he wanted to be respectful when they landed, but it was mainly because he could cover a majority of his defining features.

To his credit, Dazai also disguised himself pretty well. Chuuya was a little wary that Dazai would pull the same stunt in Little Tokyo, but, thankfully, Dazai seemed to agree with Chuuya that meeting fans in an airport was too chaotic and dangerous.

Dazai was wearing blue jeans, an oversized tan sweater, with a black scarf hanging loosely around his neck. He had also covered his hair in a black beanie and was sporting a pair of fake round-framed glasses.

Kunikida was also there with them, but his facemask was enough of a disguise. Not many people knew who Dazai’s manager was anyway.

Dazai and Chuuya were sitting in two seats within the terminal. They still had an hour to board. Fucking international flights always required them to get there so much earlier than they needed. Chuuya was losing his mind.

“Relax, Chibi,” Dazai purred. He reached his arm up and wrapped it around Chuuya’s shoulders.

Chuuya scrunched up his nose at Dazai’s casual touching. Not that Dazai could see with Chuuya’s facemask in the way. And even if Dazai could see Chuuya, he wouldn’t have been fooling anyone with the way he subtly tried to scoot closer to Dazai.

Kunikida was across the hallway pacing back and forth, making phone call after phone call, confirming that things were in order for the second and even third time. Chuuya had no idea how he and Dazai worked so well together. Dazai had no idea how lucky he was to have Kunikida at his side.

Dazai reached down into his travel bag and pulled out a book. Chuuya quirked one of his eyebrows as he watched Dazai read a couple of pages. Since Dazai’s arm was still hooked around Chuuya’s shoulders, he was holding the book with the palm of his hand and attempting to flip the pages using the same thumb.

“You know,” Chuuya said, after watching Dazai try to make the task seem seamless, “You don’t have to use one hand.”

“I know,” Dazai replied, shrugging. “I’m comfortable, though.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine, make things more difficult. See if I care.”

Dazai didn’t respond as he seemed to get lost in his book. After a few uneventful minutes, Chuuya fished out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Kouyou’s phone number. He had promised to call her before he left, and now was as good of a time as ever.

Chuuya clicked on her number and held his phone up to his ear. Kouyou answered immediately and the two talked until Dazai started to whine that Chuuya was disturbing his peace and quiet.

“Is that Dazai-kun?” Kouyou asked.

“Yeah,” Chuuya huffed. “He’s acting like a goddamn leech.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai whimpered, “You’re spreading lies.”

“Dazai, for fuck’s sake, if you keep complaining I will leave and have this conversation elsewhere.”

“No,” Dazai exclaimed, squeezing Chuuya tighter to his side.

Kouyou clicked her tongue over the line. “It seems like things have gotten better.”

Chuuya had no idea how much of the conversation Dazai could hear, but he really didn’t mind. It’s not like Dazai didn’t know his feelings on the matter. Plus, he hadn’t talked to Kouyou about Dazai in weeks.

“Things are better, yeah,” Chuuya confirmed. “I don’t know, it might be naïve to say, but, I guess, I still have hope in it all after seeing how hard he’s tried over the past couple weeks.”

“Is Dazai-kun still there?”


“Well, I think it’s good for him to hear that. And I’m sure that his lack of response means that he has hope as well.”




osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 12h

how many times can i catch chuuya falling asleep on me? the list continues to grow... ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)



            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 4h

            @nolongerhuman How the fuck did you even get Wi-Fi on the plane to tweet this


Shuuji Tsushima @dazaiis – 11h

Red Fucking Alert Dazai In Glasses Is My New Kink


chuuya’s cheekbones can slice me @nakaharaisfine – 10h

brb going to add this to my thread of chuuya being the absolute cutest and softest baby when he falls asleep


julie*:・゚✧ @melodiousosamu – 9h

hey so like ,,, where are dazai and chuuya going ???


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 30m

When in Yokohama, Dazai takes me to the pier... and then ruins my nice clothes. Anyone want my boyfriend? He’s up for sale

[image.jpg] [image.jpg]


            osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 20m

            @taintedsorrow at least the first pic we took was cute ヾ(`ε´)ノ


julie*:・゚✧ @melodiousosamu – 12m




Dazai’s schedule for their time in Yokohama was absolutely insane. Chuuya had no fucking idea how he managed to pull this off. For starters, Dazai had somehow convinced Kunikida that he needed “free days,” which essentially meant that Dazai had almost every other day off from doing interviews and other promotional material. Apparently Dazai had told Kunikida that he really wanted to spend some time in his home city because he felt so distant from Japan. Even though Chuuya could smell the bullshit from a mile away, Kunikida fell for it.

On top of that, Dazai’s days weren’t taxing to say the least. He only approved certain shows, magazine, and photoshoots from people that he had positive experiences with in the past. This movie meant way too much to Dazai to let Fitzgerald, or whoever else was in charge of promotions, have an interview end poorly.

Their first day here was technically a free day. Once Dazai and Chuuya had landed and dropped off their things at a hotel room, Dazai had taken Chuuya out to a nearby café for lunch and then walked the two over to Yokohama’s infamous pier. There seemed to be a lot that Dazai wanted to show Chuuya and so little time that they had in Japan.

Although Chuuya had only got to see a little snippet of Yokohama before becoming a subject to jetlag and wanting nothing more to crawl into bed and sleep, he had to admit, he did miss Japan a lot more than he realized. It was so nice to be able to speak his native tongue, to understand why people moved the way they did, and overall feel like he could take a deep breath and relax. This was probably the longest he had gone in a long time without thinking about music. It was strange, but a good kind of strange.

Maybe he could ask Dazai if they could speak Japanese more when they got back to L.A. It would be fun to fuck with reporters and other gossip columns, their writers having to try and read their lips as well as translate their sentences from Japanese to English. Plus, it was just another thing they could do together that was purely their own.

The best part about jetlag was that Chuuya was so fucking tired by the time they returned from their lunch and walk “date,” that Chuuya barely gave a shit it wasn’t even four in the afternoon and that he had to share a bed with Dazai again. Instead of dwelling on that, Chuuya stripped down into something far more comfortable and launched himself under the covers.

It only took a few minutes for Chuuya to drift into a deep sleep, the sheer comfort of the sheets enveloping him, easing all the tension of being on such a long flight. Chuuya’s sleep-hazed mind barely registered Dazai slipping under the covers, settling in next to him. He’s pretty sure he heard Dazai whisper goodnight, but honestly, Chuuya isn’t sure if that was real.

What was real, however, was when Chuuya woke up a couple hours later and found that he had gravitated towards Dazai. His head was nestled half on Dazai’s shoulder and half on the bed underneath. Chuuya’s arms were also splayed over Dazai’s stomach.

Dazai wasn’t much better. His arm was pinned underneath Chuuya’s shoulders and neck, his head tilted to the side where Chuuya was, strands of Chuuya’s own hair caught between his lips. It was fucking adorable.

Chuuya smiled to himself, unafraid of anyone seeing him since Dazai was obviously still very much asleep. Using that to his advantage, Chuuya turned more on his side and snuggled tight up to Dazai.

He probably should’ve been a little angry at himself for always finding his way back to Dazai. Even when he said he wanted one thing, his body seemed to desperately crave Dazai’s comforting touch. Well, at least in the morning he’ll blame it on the jetlag. For now, Chuuya will savor every ounce of domestic bliss he can squeeze out of Dazai.

Chuuya’s not actually sure how much later he slept, but he woke up to a hand running through his hair. Chuuya grumbled and buried his face deep into Dazai’s chest underneath him. He could feel the vibrations from Dazai’s body when he chuckled rather than see it. The feeling practically lulled Chuuya back to sleep.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said after Chuuya remained quiet, “Don’t fall back asleep.”

“Five more minutes,” Chuuya murmured into Dazai’s shirt.

“If we wait any longer to get ready, Kunikida might kill us,” Dazai reminded.

Chuuya sighed, forcing himself to sit up in the bed, sheets pooling around his waist. He turned his head to the side and blinked down at Dazai, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Fuck, it was going to be so hard to adjust to the new time in the limited amount of days they were in Yokohama.

Chuuya yawned. “Morning,” he said lazily.

“Good morning, mon petite rockstar,” Dazai replied, smiling easily at Chuuya.

Chuuya could get lost in those big brown eyes if he let himself. Especially when Dazai was blinking up at him, so incredibly vulnerable because he too had probably just woken up.

“I’m going to use the shower first,” Chuuya declared, dragging himself out of bed.

Somehow, Chuuya was able to get Dazai and himself out of the hotel and into the car awaiting them in enough time that Kunikida wasn’t remotely mad. Apparently, Dazai had a couple interviews today. Chuuya had no idea why he was accompanying Dazai. Probably because Dazai wanted him to meet his coworkers, and it’s not like Chuuya was going to explore Yokohama on his own, so it just kind of made sense to tag along.




Once they arrived at their first location, Dazai was rushed into hair and makeup and Chuuya and Kunikida awkwardly sat behind the cameras. Chuuya thanked Kunikida for looking out for Dazai and for helping set this whole trip up, since Chuuya was sure as hell Dazai had not thanked his own manager. Kunikida seemed slightly taken aback that someone would praise him for going above and beyond at his job, and wasn’t that sad. Chuuya made a mental note to chastise Dazai about that later.

The two of them talked until Dazai, Atsushi, and Akutagawa walked out in front of the camera. It seemed to be some kind of gameshow, as evidenced by the small table with a bunch of marshmallows lying in the center.

From what Chuuya could pick up, Dazai, Atsushi, and Akutagawa were to compete over who knew more facts about Stray Dogs. Whoever didn’t answer correctly had to throw a marshmallow up in the air and try and catch in their mouth. If they failed that, then they were out. Each round ended when only one person was left standing. Then they moved on to the next batch of questions.

It was so strangely complex, Chuuya was still baffled over the rules even after the cameras started rolling. That was one thing he preferred in America. Interviews, talk shows, and even games were so much simpler and didn’t feel completely goofy. But, if he were a fan, he would probably love seeing Dazai flounder trying to use his zero hand-eye coordination skills. He supposed it made sense why shows like this were still so popular in Japan.

All things considered, it was actually pretty funny to watch. Chuuya even found himself laughing when Dazai threw an arm over his eyes and whined that Atsushi wasn’t being fair to his superior and Atsushi floundered, begging Dazai to forgive him.

It was also very interesting to hear facts about the movie that Chuuya himself didn’t know. Dazai was serious when he said he didn’t want to spoil anything for Chuuya. He didn’t even know that Atsushi’s character wasn’t a part of the mafia. Chuuya assumed that the whole movie took place in the mafia, he had no idea how much Dazai kept a secret from him.

As the game was winding down, the three co-stars were tied up. It all came down to this final question. It was a question about Akutagawa’s character, so naturally Akutagawa guessed it first. Dazai pouted and took a marshmallow in his hand, ready to throw it.

When the marshmallow fell back down, Dazai seemed to misjudge the angle and fell backwards, trying to catch it in his mouth. His arms flailed while he was on the floor, but when he stood back up, he miraculously had the marshmallow between his teeth, smiling and pointing proudly. Everyone behind Chuuya clapped and cheered at the grand gesture.

Chuuya didn’t buy it for one second.

“Rewind the footage,” Chuuya shouted off-camera.

Dazai found his eyes instantly and looked away sheepishly, quickly swallowing the marshmallow. Atsushi and Akutagawa eyed Dazai, confused. It seemed as though they thought he caught the marshmallow as well.

“In slow motion,” Chuuya added.

Dazai laughed at that. He covered his face, pretending to hide an embarrassed blush.

The crew did indeed rewind the footage. Chuuya leaned forward in his seat to get a good look at the screen in front of him. He barely even noticed that one of the cameras had swiveled around and was directed on him attentively watching Dazai’s face and hands.

Much to Chuuya’s suspicions, Dazai had not caught the marshmallow in his mouth. As Dazai was falling to the ground, he managed to sneakily grab the marshmallow in his left hand and place it into his mouth as he floundered. When Chuuya saw that he burst out laughing. He pointed at the screen accusingly.

“Cheater,” he playfully shouted at Dazai. Everyone seemed to laugh at that.

Dazai bowed his head and shamefully made his way over to Chuuya. He draped himself over Chuuya’s shoulders, his head buried in the crook of Chuuya’s neck.

“You’re supposed to support me,” he whined.

Chuuya snorted. He flicked Dazai in the center of his forehead. “Do better next time.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai complained.

Chuuya rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to Dazai’s forehead. “Calm down, you big baby.”

Dazai seemed to shut up at that. He calmly watched Atsushi and Akutagawa finish out the game from his position wrapped around Chuuya. Neither of them noticed that a camera was still faced their direction, recording their soft interaction.



“What do you think?” Dazai asked.

Chuuya glanced around at the street they were walking down. Impressively large skyscrapers were lined up and down for as far as Chuuya could see. There was a certain atmosphere about Yokohama that didn’t strike Chuuya as intimidating as Tokyo. Yokohama was obviously busy, but it seemed more relaxed, slightly more understanding. He liked it.

But it was far more fun to mess with Dazai.

Chuuya waved his hand passively. “It’s alright, I guess.”

“Chuuya is mean,” Dazai said with a pout. He tugged on Chuuya’s arm, trying to catch his attention.

“Tch,” Chuuya tsked. “Stop being bratty.”

Dazai huffed. He dropped Chuuya’s hand and crossed his arms, turning his head to the other side. Obviously overplaying how hurt he was, pretending to ignore Chuuya.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes before Chuuya gave up, sensing that Dazai wasn’t going to drop the charade anytime soon. He snaked his hand through Dazai’s crossed arms and tugged one of his hands free to hold again.

“C’mon you know I’m just messing with you. It’s nice here.”

“Just nice? Even when you’re spending such a lovely day with your boyfriend?”

“I have a boyfriend?”

“Mean! Chuuya can’t stop being mean!”

“I do it out of love.”

That seemed to shut Dazai up. Chuuya could see out of the corner of his eye that Dazai’s lips were slightly parted, signaling that he really was taken aback.

“Wait,” Dazai finally said, “Is that true?”

“I don’t know, Dazai,” Chuuya replied with a casual shrug. “Is it?”

“Chuuya truly is mean.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Dazai walking Chuuya up and down some of his favorite streets, even dragging Chuuya through a few random back alleys to avoid being bombarded. Every little thing seemed to remind Dazai of a story he wanted to share with Chuuya. Buildings, kiosks, even a few random fountains, had Dazai babbling non-stop. Chuuya had never heard Dazai talk for this long and with this much passion in his voice. It was a good look on him.

At one point, Dazai and Chuuya passed a bar and to Chuuya’s surprise, that was the only place so far which Dazai decided to not comment on. When Chuuya tried to press into the reason why, Dazai only responded with a few remorse words.

“I used to hang out there with a couple friends.”



Weirdly enough, Chuuya didn’t formally meet Atsushi and Akutagawa until a few days later. Everything had been so hectic trying to get Dazai from one place to the other, that Chuuya didn’t really have time to linger and chat.

Finally, one afternoon everyone’s schedules seemed to align that after a group interview Dazai took Atsushi, Akutagawa, and Chuuya out to lunch. Chuuya couldn’t help but feel a little nervous to meet people that Dazai had spent so much time with during filming. These were the two people that Dazai couldn’t talk about without his entire face lighting up, the tone of his voice full of excitement. Truthfully, Chuuya had thought Dazai much preferred Atsushi and Akutagawa to himself.

But after speaking with Atsushi and Akutagawa for a half an hour, he understood Dazai’s sentiment. These were two young actors who had so much potential and such stark differences in the way that they thought which brought a depth to their characters Chuuya couldn’t fathom. Plus, it was really funny to watch them interact.

“Akutagawa,” Atsushi finally snapped, “Can you stop calling me man-tiger?”

Akutagawa barely looked up from his plate of fruit. “No.”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow questioningly, watching the two bicker in front of him on the opposite side of the table.

Dazai turned to his side and explained the nickname to Chuuya. “Apparently one time they were up late practicing lines in Atsushi’s hotel room and Akutagawa noticed a white tiger plushie on his bed. He started him calling man-tiger after that.”

“It’s not fair,” Atsushi exclaimed.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai said, scandalized, “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Chuuya? What if I had been whispering sweet nothings into my lover’s ear?”

Atsushi’s ears seemed to heat up at the idea that he was breaking his mentor’s trust.

“No,” Atsushi replied quickly, trying to defend himself. “I would never!”

Chuuya chuckled at Atsushi’s insistent apologies and proceeded to jab Dazai in the ribs. “Don’t be fucking disgusting, Dazai. Atsushi-kun, don’t believe a word this idiot says.”

“I’m sorry,” Atsushi mumbled.

“Didn’t you hear a word Chuuya-san said?” Akutagawa asked, glaring daggers at Atsushi. “You’re fine. Be confident in yourself.”

Atsushi whimpered at the criticism.

Deciding to switch the conversation, Chuuya turned to Akutagawa and talked to him about Gin. Akutagawa seemed to be far more willing to have a pleasant conversation about how talented his sister was. He even shared a story with Chuuya about when the two were kids, they had their own pretend band. Akutagawa himself pretending to be a lead singer and Gin pretending to play the guitar. It was funny to see how that all played out.

After Akutagawa was done talking, Atsushi stared at him dumbfounded.

Akutagawa glanced at Atsushi hesitantly. “What?”

“I didn’t know you were cable of being civil with someone,” Atsushi blurted out.

Dazai very obviously held back a laugh at that. As expected, Atsushi and Akutagawa fell right back into a quarrel while Dazai and Chuuya watched.

At some point, Dazai looked down at the phone resting on his thigh, his eyes widening in surprise at whoever was calling him. Chuuya glanced down, trying his best not to look nosy. He had no idea who Ango Sakaguchi was. Whoever it was, was important to Dazai as Dazai excused himself politely and answered the phone almost instantly, walking outside.

Atsushi and Akutagawa seemed to shut up after that, now left alone with Chuuya.

“Uh, Chuuya-san,” Atsushi piped up, “It’s a huge honor to meet you. Dazai-san would not stop talking about you on set, so it’s really nice to meet the person behind all the compliments.”

Chuuya was taken aback by Atsushi’s comment. “He talked about me?” Chuuya repeated, dumbfounded.

“All the time,” Akutagawa answered for Atsushi. “It was actually very annoying.”

“Don’t say that,” Atsushi interjected. “It was nice to see Dazai-san so happy!”

“Huh,” Chuuya said involuntarily, lost in thought.

Chuuya felt all the feeling in his body vanish. He barely registered that he was sitting in a chair because he could no longer feel the hard wood underneath him. Chuuya had no idea how hard and fast Dazai fell for him. Dazai always chastised Chuuya for falling in love easily, but he seemed to be no better off.

Guess Chuuya had never really asked for clarification on the lack of dates in Dazai’s journals. He just assumed that it happened far more recently than what had actually went down. That brought a whole new meaning to this trip.

“Chuuya-san?” Atsushi asked, “Are you alright?”

“Hm,” Chuuya said, shaking himself out of thought. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

Atsushi and Akutagawa shared a confused glance but didn’t push any further.

“Oi, Atsushi,” Chuuya exclaimed, changing the subject. “If it makes you feel any better, Dazai sometimes sleeps with a plushie sheep when I’m not around. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Atsushi perked up. “Really?”

Chuuya nodded. “You guys should call him Queen of the Sheep or something like that. I’m sure that would really get on his nerves.”

“Get on whose nerves?” Dazai, the devil himself, asked, slipping into his seat next to Chuuya. He looked at Chuuya, eagerly awaiting an answer.

Chuuya just shrugged, winking at Atsushi and Akutagawa. The two responded by smiling cryptically at Chuuya. Dazai was utterly confused, trying to decipher what the hell he had missed in maybe ten minutes. Chuuya was so proud.




Atsushi Nakajima @beneaththemoonlight – 30m

It was so so so exciting to meet Chuuya-san!!!!



osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 20m

when u get ur bf wrapped up in promotion stuff >>>

look at my three boys ∩(︶▽︶)∩



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 15m

Hey @GinAkutagawa thanks for letting me steal your brother for a while. Think he could make a new addition?



            Ryuunosuke Akutagawa @TheRashoumon – 14m

            @taintedsorrow For clarification, this is a joke.


            Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 13m

            @TheRashoumon :(



Even in the dead of night, the city lights were almost blinding. Yokohama wasn’t nearly as vast and smog ridden like L.A., nor was it as colorful and crowded like Tokyo, instead Yokohama had its own charm. Since Yokohama was a port city, the red and blue lights of the Ferris Wheel reflected off the water in such a subtle yet majestic way which Chuuya absolutely loved.

This city seemed to somehow remind him of his two homes, but also manage to feel completely different. It was comforting, yet exciting. Chuuya understood why Dazai seemed to have such a close connection with Yokohama. It had a charm that could not be replicated.

As Chuuya was sitting on the balcony, eyes darting from building to building, he couldn’t help but get lost in his thoughts over this trip. He didn’t realize how much he adored watching Dazai in front of a camera, rambling on and on about what acting means to him. He didn’t realize that his heart would skip a beat whenever one of Dazai’s coworkers thanked Chuuya for making Dazai so happy. He didn’t realize how hard Dazai was trying to be a better person, to try and make friends, to really, truly, take Chuuya’s words to heart.

Chuuya was touched.

So unbelievably so that he sometimes felt like he was being suffocated whenever he was around Dazai for too long. Everything felt so real, so close. All Chuuya wanted to do was stretch his fingers just a few inches, grab Dazai, and never let him go. However, Chuuya understood why he needed to hold himself back. Ultimately, it was Dazai that needed to make the final move.

Chuuya didn’t even hear the telltale click of the balcony door opening and shutting. Chuuya was only shook out of his thoughts when he felt something brush against his side. Confused, Chuuya tilted his head, already mentally preparing himself for a fight, but was met with Dazai’s deep brown eyes and lazy smile looking back at him.

“Oh,” Chuuya said, relaxing his stance, “It’s just you.”

Dazai reached his arms out and wrapped them around Chuuya’s waist. With sluggish movements, Dazai rested his forehead against Chuuya’s shoulder. He squeezed Chuuya close.

“Come back to bed,” Dazai murmured, breath fanning Chuuya’s neck causing him to shiver. His heart clenched at Dazai’s casual request.

“I’ll be back soon,” Chuuya replied.

Dazai whined, squeezing Chuuya closer. “It’s easier to sleep when Chuuya is around.”

Chuuya froze. He had no idea that sleeping together made such an impact on Dazai. They had only really cuddled together twice, so Chuuya never thought Dazai actually noticed his presence. He must have just woken up. No way Dazai would be saying these things if he wasn’t half asleep himself.

“What are you looking at?” Dazai asked, completely ignoring Chuuya’s tense posture.

“The city,” Chuuya replied. “It’s really beautiful. I understand why you like it so much.”

Dazai nodded his head. His eyes were closed, his breathing evening out slightly. Not wanting to lose Dazai to sleep, or the more likely option of having to drag him back inside, Chuuya rolled his shoulder.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “Why don’t you tell me a story?”

Dazai blinked his eyes awake, even going so far as to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He seemed to finally be aware that he had walked out of the hotel’s bed, out onto the balcony, and sat down next to Chuuya, tucked against his side.

Chuuya waited. Finally, Dazai pointed to one of the larger skyscrapers and told Chuuya that’s where his record label was located. He told Chuuya about the time when he snuck onto the roof of the building and sat on the edge, letting his mind drift for hours in order to come up with new song ideas.

All he had was a few empty pages left in a notebook, a pen, and all the time in the world to think. Dazai explained the sensation of sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the edge, pen and paper clutched close, the wind blowing through his hair. That was one of the reasons why he used to love heights. He felt so powerful, being able to look down on anyone, but he also felt so powerless, knowing that one unexpected gust of wind could knock him down at any moment.

The song he ended up writing was Love Overflowing. He told Chuuya how he had watched so many couples pass by. Men and women in their thirties, holding the hands of their young children as they walked through the busy street. Young adults clearly focused more on their hormones than the actual relationship at hand. Older couples who had been through more than Dazai could ever imagine.

He somehow wanted to capture the common theme that everyone, from each walk of life and in each stage of a relationship seemed to cling to. The result was one of Chuuya’s favorite songs of Dazai’s, so he gave credit where credit was due. Sometimes Chuuya really forgot that behind all of Dazai’s goofy masks and rough edges, he truly was a broken genius.

Dazai and Chuuya talked for hours. By the time conversation was dwindling down, the sun was beginning to rise. Chuuya had no idea how long he had been sitting out on the balcony. Hours ago, he had woken up from a fast-paced nightmare and wanted a little air to clear his head. Originally, he had no intentions of staying up this late, but Dazai made it easy to lose track of time.

“Ne, Chuuya,” Dazai said, lifting his head off of Chuuya’s shoulder so he was looking him in the eyes.

“Yes, Dazai?”

Dazai’s smile softened and he reached up, tucking some of Chuuya’s hair behind his ear. Chuuya felt his heart skip a beat. Dazai’s hand was ghosting over Chuuya’s cheek, his face far too close to Chuuya’s than either of them were expecting.

For as often as Dazai made fun of Chuuya, Chuuya was no idiot. He knew that there was an ulterior motive for Dazai inviting Chuuya to Yokohama with him. Chuuya had assumed it was so they could try to fall back to their normal rhythm. Sure, a small part of him hoped that Dazai wanted to take that final step, but hoping for something that big was a dangerous game.

But now, with the light purples and pale yellows dancing across Dazai’s eyes, their last good conversation still lingering in the air, huddled together slightly for warmth, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel that hope grow exponentially.

“Dazai?” Chuuya asked again.

Dazai jolted slightly, clearly snapping himself out of whatever he was thinking about.

“I was just wondering if,” Dazai said, trailing off.

Chuuya waited patiently. Or as patiently as he could manage. His heart was pounding, blood pumping up to his ears, deafening the sounds around him.

“For fuck’s sake, Dazai, what?” Chuuya finally snapped.

“I was just wondering if,” Dazai repeated, “you had gotten shorter since last time we snuggled? I definitely fit better last time.”

Chuuya groaned in frustration. Instead of responding, he smacked Dazai in the side. Dazai brought his arms around his stomach and cupped the area sensitively.

“Chuuya,” he whined, “That hurt.”

“You fucking asshole,” Chuuya raged, “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing~” Dazai teased, smirk plastered on his face.

Chuuya lunged forward and tried tackling Dazai to the ground. This time, Dazai was prepared and wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist. As Chuuya tried to move back, ready to watch Dazai fall to his rightful place on the ground, he found himself trapped against Dazai’s chest, landing on top of Dazai in the process.

After Dazai’s back hit the ground with a thud, Chuuya blinked down at Dazai, thrown off by the turn of events. Dazai just laughed. His brown hair fell on all sides of him; his usual bangs were swept upwards and out his face. Dazai’s hair framed his face beautifully. Fuck. Chuuya’s breath hitched at the image underneath him. Dazai.

Dazai reached up and tangled his hand in the ends of Chuuya’s hair which were tickling Dazai’s cheeks. Chuuya couldn’t help but gravitate downwards, his lips hovering over Dazai’s. Dazai didn’t try to stop him.

Right as Chuuya was about to close the last few inches of distance between them, there was a large crash that sounded from inside the hotel room. Chuuya visibly cringed at the noise, fully extracting himself from the moment unfolding. Before Chuuya had time to decipher what just happened, the balcony door was almost ripped off its hinges by the sheer force of someone sliding it open.

“Dazai,” the person bellowed.

Dazai tore his eyes away from Chuuya, a murderous glint challenging whoever dared interrupt their moment.

“Kunikida,” Dazai replied, sickly sweet, and oh so obviously fake.

“This is what you’ve been doing?!” Kunikida screamed, “I have been waiting for you in the lobby for twenty minutes! You are supposed to be getting ready for a morning talk show in ten minutes. I have been calling you non-stop!”

Chuuya climbed off of Dazai, trying to distance himself from the tension brewing between Dazai and his manager. He had no idea that was the plan for today. If Chuuya had known, he wouldn’t have kept Dazai up so late. Or, well, early in this case. He just assumed by Dazai continuing the conversations, and not pestering Chuuya to come back to bed, that this was another light day.

“Dazai,” Chuuya said, quieter comparatively to Kunikida, “Just get changed real quick. I’ll see you later.”

Dazai sat up as well. He glanced at Chuuya, and just for a second Chuuya thought he could see longing in Dazai’s eyes.

“You’re not coming with me?” Dazai asked.

Chuuya shook his head no. No fucking way was he sitting in a car ride with Kunikida screaming at Dazai about ruining their ideal schedule.

“I’ll see you tonight, right?”


“Dazai, can you not waste anymore of our time?” Kunikida snapped, breaking Dazai and Chuuya out of their little world.

Dazai opened his mouth to reply but could barely get a sound out before Kunikida grabbed Dazai by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up. Chuuya heard a lot of banging and whining as Dazai and Kunikida made their way through the hotel room. Only when the front door slammed shut could Chuuya feel himself physically relax.

Chuuya let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and slumped against the wall separating the balcony from the hotel room. He really needed a lot of time to mentally prepare for tonight.

Chapter Text

After Dazai left, Chuuya decided to do the one thing that he said he would never do and go explore Yokohama by himself. He grabbed one of Dazai’s sweatshirts, a pair of his own jeans, and tied his hair up, tucking it into the hood. Before leaving, Chuuya also grabbed a clean facemask and slid it over his mouth and nose.

Once he was thoroughly covered up, Chuuya slipped outside of the hotel room and onto the streets of Yokohama. He didn’t necessarily have a specific location in mind, Chuuya primarily just wanted some fresh air. No way was he was staying cooped up in the hotel room while waiting for Dazai to come back.

As Chuuya started walking up and down the streets, he was suddenly very glad he ended up grabbing a facemask. Chuuya could practically feel his lips still tingling from nearly brushing against Dazai’s. It’s not that Chuuya didn’t want to kiss Dazai. He did. He really fucking did. But it didn’t feel like the right time.

Chuuya couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there was something nagging inside of him. Some voice in the back of his head telling him to not let Dazai get off that easily. While Chuuya openly acknowledged that Dazai was slowly but surely getting better and opening up to Chuuya, there still felt like something was missing.

At this point, Chuuya felt pretty confident in saying that he could read Dazai accurately. The fact that Dazai had pushed all of his interviews to the morning and afternoon, leaving a whole night for them in addition to a free day tomorrow, basically screamed that he had something big planned. Chuuya isn’t exactly sure what it is, but, at this point, he’s pretty sure he can handle whatever Dazai throws at him.

Chuuya took in everything that Yokohama had to offer. The beautiful trees, the contrast between old traditional Japanese architecture and modern skyscrapers, even the slight saltiness within the air, most likely a result from the ocean breeze. Although not even twelve hours ago, Chuuya was just captivated with the sight of Yokohama’s skyline, it was still so easy to get lost within the city, all thanks to a different perspective.

It was a pleasant afternoon. Chuuya ordered ramen from a small ramen bar downtown, he browsed through some of the more crowded shops, and even sent Dazai a couple pictures. At a certain point, Chuuya found himself gravitating towards the piers on the port side of the city.

He walked up and down the piers, trying to find a spot where he could sit for a while, undisturbed by anyone that worked there, and technically not considered a trespasser. After scouting out three different docks, Chuuya found an area surrounded by boxes towards the end of the pier. He sat down and got comfortable.

Chuuya took out his phone and headphones, queuing up some of his favorite songs. He then slipped off his shoes, balled his socks together, and let his feet dangle off the end of the pier, his toes just barely skimming the crests of the waves.

It’s ironic that last time Chuuya was at the beach, he was thinking about Japan. Now, while in Japan, all he could think about was the United States. Once Chuuya got back, there was so much work he had to do. He had to go through the whole process of turning Haitoku no Kodou into a single, in addition to deciding when and if he wanted a full album accompanying it, and there were probably events he had to go to with Dazai.

When was Stray Dogs even coming out? Chuuya should really figure that out so he can start planning accordingly.

But what Chuuya was mainly thinking about was Dazai. How much fun he was having with Dazai here, how easy it was to hear Dazai’s stories, and how much his cheeks seemed to hurt from smiling. He really didn’t want all of this to go away once they returned back to L.A.

Chuuya closed his eyes, letting the lyrics of the song wash over him, the constant spray of cold water against his ankles keep him grounded, as he reflected on everything. Chuuya wanted so much more with Dazai. He didn’t want it to end.




Oddly enough, Chuuya was actually late to meet Dazai.

Chuuya should’ve known better, but it was so easy to lose himself to his thoughts when he was around the ocean. This always seemed to happen. The rhythmic rise and fall of waves was too hypnotizing, it seemed.

Chuuya strolled back into his hotel room a little after seven. When he opened the door, Chuuya was met with a sight he thought he would never see. Dazai was nervous. He was pacing back and forth, fingers tapping his thighs anxiously. And while Chuuya had seen Dazai pace before, this was a whole different type of energy.

After the door clicked shut behind Chuuya, Dazai’s eyes snapped forward to take in Chuuya’s appearance. Chuuya just waved awkwardly.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had no idea what time it was. I can change really fast.”

Dazai’s stance visibly relaxed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What’s the dress code?” Chuuya asked, taking in Dazai’s outfit.

Dazai was wearing a jean jacket and matching colored jeans as well. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt underneath the jacket and a deep maroon scarf around his neck. From the angle that Chuuya had, the scarf could cover a majority of the lower half of his face.

“Something to cover yourself up, but nothing crazy.”

Chuuya nodded, moving about the room to grab appropriate clothes. Once he was satisfied with what he picked, Chuuya moved to the bathroom to change.

He quickly stripped down from the drab clothes he was wearing, folding them neatly to be put away. Then Chuuya put on black jeans, a deep blue shirt, a cropped leather jacket, and then tucked his hair into one of his favorite hats with a matching deep blue colored fabric strip encircling the base. He also slipped on his usual pair of leather gloves and clasped a choker around his neck. Thoroughly satisfied, he exited the bathroom.

Before Chuuya could even take a full step into their hotel room, Dazai was crowding his personal space. A bouquet of pink, red, and white camellias was clasped between Dazai’s hands. Apparently, he was full of surprises today.

“These are for you,” Dazai declared, holding them out for Chuuya.

Chuuya didn’t really know what to say. His suspicions were slowly being confirmed that tonight was most likely going to be an important milestone.

“Thank you,” Chuuya said, taking the flowers from Dazai. “I don’t know where to put these though.”

“Oh,” Dazai mumbled, looking around the room.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Chuuya said, reassuring Dazai.

Chuuya then searched a couple of cabinets, trying to find the biggest water glass possible. After a few minutes of searching, Chuuya found a glass, filled it up, and then placed the camellias inside. Maybe he could ask the front desk if they had a vase he could borrow for the remainder of their trip. He’d do that tomorrow.

Once Chuuya confirmed that the flowers wouldn’t fall out of the glass, he made his way to Dazai. This time Dazai was holding a bouquet of white hydrangeas in his hand. Chuuya had no idea how he had missed the two large bouquets of flowers upon entering their hotel room.

He glanced between Dazai and the new bouquet of flowers questioningly. Dazai reached forward and laced his fingers with Chuuya’s.

“These are for where we’re going,” Dazai clarified.

Chuuya nodded, not that that made any sense, but he was willing to trust Dazai. “I’m ready when you are.”




This night's endeavors were two-fold. The first stop was at a local restaurant that Dazai seemed to enjoy a lot. The second stop was far more cryptic.

The walk to wherever Dazai was taking them was tense. Chuuya’s hand was once again clasped inside Dazai’s, their fingers interlaced. He could practically feel the slight tremors within Dazai’s tight hold. It was slightly infuriating on Chuuya’s end. He so badly wanted to help Dazai, but he had no idea what was awaiting them, so he had no idea what to say.

They walked in silence.

They walked past happier couples, brightly colored buildings, beautiful plants swaying in the slight breeze. They walked straight passed the heart of the city, all the way to the outskirts. Dazai led them down a narrow, cobbled path until they passed a huge white church and towards a field off the beaten path.

And that’s when everything clicked for Chuuya.

The location, the disguises, the hydrangeas, the growing anxiety, and even the fact they were going out at night. Dazai was taking Chuuya to visit a grave. Obviously, this was something so incredibly personal to Dazai that he wouldn’t want anyone else eavesdropping on this moment. Hell, Chuuya was surprised that Dazai was even taking him here. As far as Chuuya knew, Dazai hadn’t lost anyone.

Chuuya squeezed Dazai’s hand in comfort.

Dazai didn’t say anything. Rather, he continued to lead Chuuya silently over to the side of the graveyard, towards a large, overgrown tree. Underneath the brush was one solo grave. It read ‘S. Oda.’ Chuuya had no idea who that was. However, his heart still clenched at the idea that Dazai had to go through the death of someone clearly so important to him.

Chuuya let Dazai’s hand slip out of his as Dazai bent down so he was sitting on his knees. Dazai then carefully rested the bouquet of flowers in front of Oda’s grave. Finally, Dazai bent his head and mumbled a traditional Japanese prayer. All the while, Chuuya watched in awe, letting Dazai have his moment.

With his head still faced towards Oda’s grave Dazai said, “Hello, Odasaku. I’m sorry it’s been so long. But I brought a friend with me.” Dazai waved his hand, gesturing towards Chuuya. “This is Chuuya. He’s very important to me, and I’m glad you two could finally meet.”

Chuuya involuntarily swiped at the growing prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes. “Dazai,” he whimpered.

Dazai turned his head and glanced up at Chuuya, his eyes shining. He stood up and made his way next to Chuuya. Dazai and Chuuya reached for each other’s hands at the same time and clung to each other. They were both staring at the grave in front of them, neither one daring to speak first.

“When I was fourteen, I was being scouted by both Fukuzawa and Mori for becoming a potential idol,” Dazai said quietly. “Originally, I was going to sign with Mori because he seemed like the more calculating of the two, but that also came with caveat that he was harsher.

“I had always wanted to be an actor. In fact, when I was being scouted, I was more focused on finding someone who wanted me as an actor rather than a singer. But, when I met with Mori, he had convinced me there was no way I was capable to do such a thing, and that I would be far more popular singing.

“So, I gave up that dream. I actually almost signed with Mori, if it wasn’t for Odasaku and Ango.”

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows at the names. He knew he had heard that second name, but he just couldn’t place where or why. Oda and Ango definitely weren’t singers, Chuuya would’ve remembered them. He’s assuming that ‘Odasaku’ is the ‘S. Oda’ in front of them, but he had no idea who the second name belonged to.

“Who’s Ango?”

Dazai smiled sadly. “Do you remember that bar I showed you? The place where I went with friends when I was younger?”

Chuuya nodded.

“I went there with Ango and Odasaku,” Dazai explained. “I actually got a phone call from Ango a few days ago. You caught a glimpse of that, didn’t you?”

Oh. Oh, shit. Was he not supposed to see that? Chuuya tensed up, guilty.

Dazai chuckled at Chuuya’s reaction. “Don’t worry, Chibi. I wanted you to see that. There’s no reason to feel bad.”

Chuuya had to restrain himself from punching Dazai. He really needed to stop “accidentally” letting Chuuya see things. It was driving Chuuya insane.

“You were saying,” Chuuya said, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Right,” Dazai replied with a shake of his head. “I met Odasaku and Ango by chance. I was strolling through Yokohama, trying to figure out what to do, who to sign with, when I got into a bit of a trouble.”

Chuuya eyed Dazai warily. Dazai simply shrugged in response.

“I have a quick tongue, what can I say? I think you, more than anyone else, would know that.”

Chuuya sighed, waving his hand for Dazai to keep talking.

“Odasaku and Ango broke up the fight,” Dazai said. “And since, I guess Odasaku has a sixth sense for knowing who troubled kids are, he offered to buy me dinner and hear what was on my mind.

“He and Ango took me to Lupin, the bar I showed you, and we all talked. I don’t know why, but there was something comforting about both Ango and Odasaku that I wanted to tell them everything and hear their opinions.

“Thirty minutes turned into an hour, which turned into two hours, and then three. It was so easy to talk to them. Odasaku was the one who primarily gave me advice, while Ango kept the peace between the three of us. After that, there was an unspoken agreement to meet back at Lupin at the same time and talk again.

“Odasaku and Ango were the two who actually convinced me to sign with Fukuzawa. Odasaku actually went so far as to tell me to not give up on acting. But at that point, Mori had shattered all my confidence, so I pushed that to the back of my mind.

“Fast forward a couple of years and I’m leaving for L.A. to broaden my career. By that point, it had become a weekly tradition to meet up and talk. Since Odasaku and Ango weren’t in the entertainment business, I had to leave them behind. We all still talked, but it wasn’t quite the same as meeting in person, you know?”

Dazai paused and took a shaky breath. Chuuya stilled. Up until this point, Chuuya was still inspecting every inch of the pristine grave in front of him, but at Dazai’s hesitation, Chuuya tilted his head to look at Dazai.

There was so much emotion written on Dazai’s face that Chuuya felt his own heart ache. Dazai’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he seemed to mentally prepare himself for what he wanted to say next.

Chuuya tugged on his arm to get Dazai to look at him. Dazai’s eyes found Chuuya’s. His eyes were blown wide, glazed over in pain.

“It’s okay,” Chuuya whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”

Dazai shook his head no. “I know, but I want to do this. I’ve wanted you to know for a while.”

Chuuya glanced away sheepishly. “Take your time.”

Dazai took another deep breath before continuing.

“Two years ago, Odasaku died. Ango called me late at night in hysterics saying that a drunk driver hit him. Looking back on it, there was nothing either of us could’ve done. But in the moment, I blamed myself and, even worse, I blamed Ango. I felt like I had selfishly left the only two people who I considered my friends. Like me somehow being back in Yokohama would’ve stopped Odasaku from...” Dazai trailed off.

Chuuya squeezed his hand in assurance. He would stay here with Dazai for as long as it took for Dazai to compose himself.

“I also blamed Ango for not being there with Odasaku. After the funeral, I cut off all communication with Ango because I couldn’t stop my mind from jumping to conclusions that it was his fault just as much as it was mine. It took me far too long to forgive him for something that he shouldn’t feel sorry for. We actually met up for the first time in years when I was filming a couple months ago. I really wronged him.

“As for me, it took even longer to forgive myself for what happened. I still feel guilty to this day, but I decided that the best way to honor Odasaku’s death was to take his words to heart. I started acting again. That’s why this role was so important to me. I wanted to prove to myself, and to Odasaku, that I could do it.”

Chuuya stared at Dazai dumbfounded. Fuck, he had no idea how much this meant to Dazai. Seeing him now, Chuuya felt like he understood Dazai to a deeper degree than he ever had before. After knowing the full story, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel bad for all his antagonizing comments about Dazai being an actor. He had no right to say those things.

“I admire your strength,” Chuuya said. “I don’t know how I would’ve reacted. You’re doing a damn good job, Dazai.”

Dazai continued, ignoring the compliment altogether.

“When you yelled at me saying that I wasn’t Dazai anymore, I think that was a huge wake up call. I hadn’t realized how consumed I was as Shuuji. Not only had I let you down, but I think I also let Odasaku down. I never wanted to become a bad person, but I was hurting you because it was an easy way to hurt myself.

“I’ve been trying to get better, I really have. I’ve been working up to eating full meals, I’ve been using alternatives to self-harm, and I’ve tried letting you in more and more. Coming back here, to Yokohama, was the last thing I needed. I needed to remember where I came from, and I wanted to share that with you, Chuuya.

“You said that you loved me. Well, this is me, the whole me. If you’ll still have me, my feelings haven’t changed.”

Instead of responding, Chuuya unclasped his hand from Dazai’s and stepped forward. He knelt down so he could look at Oda’s grave eye-to-eye. This was one of the most important people in Dazai’s life. Oda probably knew as much about Dazai as Chuuya did, and cared about Dazai’s wellbeing all the same. The least Chuuya could do was promise Oda something.

“Hi, Oda-san,” Chuuya said. He could practically feel Dazai’s eyes fixated on the back of his head as he spoke. “Thank you for taking such good care of Dazai. He’s a little rough around the edges, but you really helped shape him into the great man he is today. I just want to promise you that I’ll take good care of him from here on out. You don’t need to worry about Dazai.”

Chuuya felt a hand reach forward and grip his shoulder. He could feel the slight tremor in Dazai’s hand through the layers he was wearing.

“Chuuya,” Dazai rasped.

Chuuya stood back up and faced Dazai. Dazai looked like he was ready to burst with emotions, whether that was happiness or sadness, Chuuya couldn’t fully tell.


“Did you really mean that?”

Chuuya opened his mouth to respond. But before he could get a word out, Dazai added something else, “I want to use my winnings from the time we went bowling. You have to answer honestly.”

Chuuya searched Dazai’s eyes for any sort of ill-intent. Besides the small mischief in his words, Dazai seemed to be deadly serious. Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky Dazai could be sometimes.

Dazai furrowed his eyebrows, clearly confused. “What?”

“Of course I meant it,” Chuuya replied, smile threatening to spill across his face. “Whenever I make a promise, I intend to keep it.”

Relief flooded Dazai’s face. Clear and undeniable relief. Dazai didn’t even try to cover it up after an instant, he let Chuuya see him with every emotion painted across his face.

Chuuya reached forward to cup both Dazai’s cheeks. Fuck, he could do this now. Without any shame that he was breaking their rules, or contracts, or guidelines, or whatever.

What a clear contrast this was from the last time Chuuya held Dazai’s face in his hands. This time, there was no anger or frustration. There was only hope and undeniable, finally reciprocated, love.

“Dazai,” Chuuya mumbled, “Can I kiss you?”

Dazai’s eyes softened. “Chuuya, you’ve never had to ask.”

Well, that answers that question. And every other question Chuuya had to ask for a long time.

Chuuya surged forward and took Dazai’s lips between his own. For the first time since they started kissing, fake or otherwise, Chuuya felt no need to hold back. Dazai reciprocated easily, his arms reaching forward to pull Chuuya close to him, kissing him with everything he had.

Only when Dazai’s tongue swiped at Chuuya’s lips, begging for access, did Chuuya remember where they were. Chuuya pulled away from Dazai, as if his lips were on fire, and glared at Dazai accusingly.

“We can’t do this here. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai whined, trying to pull Chuuya back in.

“Dazai,” Chuuya warned.

“What’s wrong about this? Odasaku would be proud of me for finally making out with someone I actually cared about.”

Chuuya scrunched his nose at the thought of making out in a fucking graveyard. Talk about shameless.

“Osamu,” Chuuya tried again.

Dazai reacted strongly to that. “You’re right, we should definitely leave. Like right now.”




Honestly, Chuuya was surprised they made it back to their hotel room without ending up in some rather questionable positions that could have caused quite a scandal. The second the door closed behind them, Dazai slammed Chuuya’s back against the wall.

Chuuya groaned, equal parts pain and arousal. Dazai, on the other hand, seized the opportunity of Chuuya’s open mouth and attacked Chuuya’s lips in a searing kiss. Chuuya reacted instantly. He raked his hands through Dazai’s hair, feeling it get messed up between his fingers.

Dazai’s hands roamed down and around Chuuya’s body, until he was squeezing Chuuya’s ass. Chuuya couldn’t help but let out a huff of laugher at the sudden groping.

“Warn a guy,” he said, hot breath against Dazai’s lips.

“You have a nice ass and I want to hold you,” Dazai growled. “Good enough of a warning?”

Chuuya responded by leaning forward and dragging Dazai back into another kiss. Taking the hint, Chuuya moved his arms down Dazai’s head and neck until his hands gripped Dazai’s shoulders in place. He then hopped up and quickly wrapped his legs around Dazai’s waist. With Dazai’s arms now secured tightly underneath Chuuya’s ass, he was thoroughly trapped against the wall.

Chuuya deepened the kiss. He was going completely and utterly insane by the taste of Dazai. This desire wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before. And now he felt like he could act on it, because, well, Dazai was his.

Dazai eagerly reciprocated. He licked at Chuuya’s lips, asking for entrance, to which Chuuya happily obliged. He parted his lips, Dazai immediately slipping his tongue into Chuuya’s mouth.

If Chuuya thought Dazai’s lips were talented, he was nowhere near ready for how good Dazai was with his tongue. Dazai licked at every inch he gained access to. Taking up and tasting as much of Chuuya as he would allow. Which wasn’t saying a lot since Chuuya didn’t even try to fight for dominance. He wanted Dazai to claim him.

Finally, after a few minutes of sucking at Chuuya’s mouth, Dazai parted for air. As Dazai’s mouth retracted from Chuuya’s, a string of saliva hung between their lips. Chuuya moaned at the image. Physically being attached to Dazai in every way. This was too much.

How the fuck they were able to contain themselves for months before this was beyond Chuuya. He had never felt more touch starved in his entire life.

“Bed, now,” Chuuya commanded.

Dazai nodded dumbly.

He carried Chuuya over to their hotel’s bed and sat them both down on the edge. Chuuya was still on top of Dazai but he didn’t mind this position all. It was refreshing to be able to tilt his head down and look into Dazai’s eyes. Chuuya uncurled his legs so he was straddling Dazai, knees propped up on the mattress, looking down at the man he wanted more than anything else.

Chuuya ran a gloved hand down the side of Dazai’s cheek. He could feel Dazai shiver from the contact of rough leather against smooth skin.

“Fuck,” Chuuya groaned, “You are so beautiful.”

In this low lighting, Chuuya couldn’t exactly see Dazai’s cheeks flush, but from months of getting to know Dazai, he could tell that Dazai was flustered.

Chuuya continued to run his hands down Dazai’s face until he reached Dazai’s mouth. He gently moved his fingers over Dazai’s slightly swollen lips. It was such an intoxicating feeling knowing that he was the one who did this to Dazai.

And then Dazai’s teeth sunk into the fingertip of his glove. Dazai began to tug on the material, until finally, Chuuya’s glove began to slip off his hand. Chuuya watched with wide eyes as Dazai spit the leather glove out of his mouth and onto the floor. His lips quickly found their way to Chuuya’s hands.

Dazai began by pressing featherlight kisses against Chuuya’s skin. Chuuya knew he was being cautious of the scars that littered his skin, and it was so attentive that Chuuya’s heart almost burst.

“You’re beautiful too, Chuuya,” Dazai breathed against Chuuya’s hand. “Everything from the strands of your fiery hair to the tips of your fingers drive me crazy.”

Chuuya’s breath hitched. And not just from the physical attention Dazai was giving him. Once Dazai covered his entire hand in kisses, he made slow work focusing on each individual finger.

Starting with the thumb, Dazai took the whole digit into his mouth and sucked hard. He swirled his tongue around Chuuya’s finger, making sure to take up every inch, all the way up to the knuckle. Dazai even hollowed his cheeks for added affect.

Chuuya couldn’t help the little moans he let out. He knew that this was all a show, to tease what was coming next. But Chuuya was such a sucker for everything that Dazai did. He was also quickly realizing that he loved Dazai’s tongue.

Dazai made his way through each finger. Once he finished sucking on Chuuya’s pinky, he released the final digit with a satisfying pop. Chuuya could practically feel his head spinning. He needed something more between them. No way was he letting Dazai have all the fun.

Suddenly realizing their position, he experimentally moved his hips down onto Dazai beneath him. They both instinctively hissed at the added friction. Chuuya wasn’t necessarily surprised that both he and Dazai were hard, he was mainly shocked both of them had been so neglectful towards each other’s erections.

Taking Dazai’s small noises as a sign on approval, Chuuya continued to grind down. Dazai even moved his hands up from Chuuya’s ass to grip Chuuya’s hips, helping to direct him in exactly the right angle to feel the most amount of heat. 

It only took a few more rolls of Chuuya’s hips until Dazai snapped. Taking full control of Chuuya’s movements, Dazai stilled Chuuya against his lap, not allowing him to move anymore.

“If you keep that up, I’m going to come before we get to any of the good stuff,” Dazai chuckled darkly.

Chuuya raised his eyebrow. “You think I’m good enough to make the great Osamu Dazai come untouched?”

Dazai groaned. “Chuuya, I’ve wanted to do this for months now. Just looking at you like this makes me want to come.”

Chuuya felt all the blood left in his body rush immediately south. Fuck. His eyes went dark, hooded with lust and need.

“Less talking, more making up for lost time,” Chuuya growled.

Dazai barked out a laugh.

With a strength Chuuya didn’t know Dazai possessed, he used the grip on Chuuya’s hips to his advantage to flip them both over. They were now laying on top of the bed in a reverse position. Chuuya was splayed out underneath Dazai, hair falling all around his face. Dazai was hovering over Chuuya, his eyes blown so wide that Chuuya could hardly see any of the reddish-brown he was familiar with.

Dazai’s gaze was practically devouring Chuuya, roaming over every inch of skin he could see.

“Good enough for you?” Dazai taunted.

Chuuya chuckled, bringing his arms up to encircle Dazai’s neck. “Please,” he replied, voice sultry smooth. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Honey,” Dazai teased, leaning down to peck Chuuya’s lips. “I can show you a whole new world.”

Chuuya leaned upwards and swiped his tongue against Dazai’s slightly parted lips. “Prove it.”




“So?” Dazai prompted, smug smile wide on his face.

Chuuya scoffed. “If you’re fishing for compliments, you’re not getting any.”

“Eh? That’s sure not what you said five minutes ago when you said ‘Oh, Dazai, right there, fuck, right there, yes, yes, yes,’” Dazai teased, trying to mimic Chuuya’s voice.

“Hah?!” Chuuya sputtered, shoving his hand in Dazai’s face. “Don’t be goddamn disgusting. And was that me you were trying to impersonate?!”

Dazai laughed, his soft breath fanning Chuuya’s ear. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Chuuya’s neck and sighed.

“Chuuya is just so cute, I could eat him up,” Dazai said, arms around Chuuya’s waist, tugging him closer.

“Idiot,” Chuuya said, but there was no heat behind his words.

They were facing each other, snuggling close as Chuuya finally came down from his post-orgasm high. He was currently drawing meaningless patterns on Dazai’s chest, reveling in the feel of his slightly scarred, but nonetheless beautiful skin.

All he wanted to do was fall asleep, listening to the rhythm of Dazai’s heart. But it seemed like Dazai had other ideas.

“Chuuya?” Dazai asked, words muffled into this skin beneath his lips.

Chuuya rolled his shoulder so Dazai’s head moved, allowing them to once again look into each other eyes.


“I know I haven’t always been one hundred percent honest with you, but I do want to try to get better.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened slightly. Dazai took that as his signal to keep speaking.

“I want to make it clear that this was never about sex, I really don’t want this to be it. I’m not sure when I started falling developing feelings for you, but I guess I’ve always been attracted to you physically. Somewhere along the line my feelings stopped being fake. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re impulsive, interesting, easy to tease, attentive, and I always found myself looking forward to the next time I could see you. I just want to make it clear that I like you for you, too.”

Chuuya stared at Dazai in bewilderment. He supposed their conversation from the graveyard wasn’t quite over. Or quite the right location to have it in the first place. But Chuuya didn’t expect Dazai to talk to him so soon.

“I’m also sorry for the way you found out that I reciprocated your feelings instead of rejecting them. That was cowardly on my part.”

Chuuya couldn’t help the smile that spread wide on his face. Chuuya leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dazai’s in a chaste kiss. It was awkward, since Chuuya was smiling so hard he fumbled against Dazai’s lips. But it was soft, and sweet, and he hoped it passed on every feeling in complete reciprocation.

Once they parted, Chuuya smacked Dazai upside the back of the head.

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again,” he exclaimed. “I have never been more stressed out and confused in my entire life.”

Chuuya huffed in annoyance and then snuggled his head against Dazai’s chest. Just to show that he did, in fact, care. Dazai chuckled and wrapped a hand around the ends of Chuuya’s hair. His other hand began to stroke Chuuya’s back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai repeated.

“You better fucking be,” Chuuya replied. “First day as a couple and we’re already fighting. Disgusting.”

Dazai laughed, true and genuine, and squeezed Chuuya impossibly closer to his body. From this angle, with Chuuya’s ear pressed against Dazai’s chest, he could hear how fast Dazai’s heart was pounding.

“Hey, that means make-up sex, right?”

“Dazai, I am not going for a fourth round tonight.”

Dazai whined in protest.

“Shh,” Chuuya said, eyelids staring to feel heavy. He was slowly being lulled to sleep by the ever-calming sound of Dazai’s heart. Just like he wanted. “Hold me right now. We have all the time in the world.”

And, hey, what could Chuuya say. He was sappy. He was a hopeless romantic. If he wanted to say cheesy lines to Dazai, he damn well would. As long as he blamed it on the fatigue in the morning, that is.



Crime and Punishment

Who is Sakunosuke Oda, and is Chuuya Nakahara just a Rebound for Osamu Dazai?

Written by: Fyodor Dostoyevsky


Last night, Osamu Dazai and Chuuya Nakahara were spotted together in a graveyard located within Yokohama, Japan.


Pictured above: Dazai and Nakahara holding hands while looking at S. Oda’s gravestone.

The gravestone belonged to one Sakunosuke Oda. If that name sounds unfamiliar, there is a reason for that. Oda had no ties to the Japanese entertainment industry. In fact, when he was alive, he helped run an orphanage.

He was also a very close friend of Dazai’s. From what sources inside The Armed Agency, Dazai’s record label, reports, Dazai and Oda met before Dazai signed under Fukuzawa. Most likely between the ages of thirteen and fourteen. While not confirmed, it can be assumed that Oda helped Dazai through the turbulence that was coming out with his first debut.

After first meeting, Dazai and Oda developed a fast friendship. While their relationship mostly stayed hidden from the public, here are the only shots of Dazai and Oda during their time together throughout the years.


Pictured above: Dazai excitedly turning around and talking to Oda while walking around the piers of Yokohama.


Pictured above: Dazai holding up a hand-held console video game with Oda looking over his shoulder and watching Dazai play.


Pictured above: Oda ruffling Dazai’s hair fondly.


Pictured above: From behind, Oda with his arm wrapped around Dazai, the two walking together.

It is not hard to see the clear progression of their relationship. While they may have started out as friends, it certainly did not seem to end that way. When they met, Dazai was presumably fourteen, marking Oda around nineteen. With the five-year age gap, and Dazai’s growing fame, it made sense to keep their budding relationship hidden from the public.

The final picture shown has Dazai aged after he was eighteen, before he permanently left Yokohama for Los Angeles, California. Both Dazai and Oda were over the age of consent, making any type of romantic and sexual relationship legal, if they wished to pursue one. And judging by the close proximity within the picture, it is not hard to assume that they pursued this new type of relationship.

Dazai is not necessarily private about his life. He tweets frequently with the content varying from important song and movie updates to pictures of what he is wearing or food he has eaten. It is safe to assume that Dazai does not hide much from his fanbase. Especially the big news, as evidenced by his constant need to flaunt his current relationship with Nakahara.

For Dazai to keep Oda, someone essential to his life, away from his fanbase, seems to imply something not so wholesome about their interactions.

And because Oda was so important to Dazai, it seems unlikely that distance would keep them apart. This is confirmed indirectly through Dazai’s semi-frequent trips back to Yokohama. Most likely, this was so he could visit Oda.


Pictured above: Dazai disguising himself in the Yokohama airport, over three years ago.


Pictured above: Dazai, once again, disguising himself in the Yokohama airport, only three months after the first picture was taken.

Through these trips, it is also possible to pinpoint when Oda died. Almost two years and ten months ago, Dazai made his final trip to Yokohama, presumably for Oda’s funeral. The next time Dazai returned to Yokohama was eight months later during tour.


Pictured above: Dazai walking through the Yokohama airport, eyes visibly darker, skin paler, more bandages around his arms, and a stark difference in his weight. Most likely returning to Los Angeles from Oda’s funeral.

Since Oda died so young and with no warning, his obituary stating the cause of death as hit by a drunk driver, it is understandable that Dazai never got to say a proper goodbye. Therefore, never truly getting over Oda. While it is true that it took Dazai over two years to start dating Nakahara, there was never anyone in between Oda and Nakahara.

Is it possible that Dazai is just using Chuuya as a rebound for Oda? On both a physical and personality basis, there seems to be a strong backing. Looking at Oda and Chuuya side-by-side, they both have red hair, blue eyes, clear complexion, and strong, unwavering personalities.


Pictured above: A photo of Nakahara (left) compared to Oda (right).

However, all the conclusions about Dazai and Oda’s past relationship are pure speculations based off of the limited information found on Oda. What can be confirmed, though, is that Dazai took Nakahara to Oda’s grave last night. Looking at their vaguely disguised faces, it seemed to be meant as a private affair. And judging by the way Nakahara kissed Dazai, this image may become the last time they are seen together as a couple. It would not come as a shock if this was Nakahara and Dazai’s goodbye as Dazai’s heart still longs for Oda.


Pictured above: Nakahara and Dazai sharing a kiss next to Oda’s grave.


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Chapter Text

Chuuya rustled awake at the feeling of warmth leaving underneath him. He groaned, reaching his arms out to encircle the being trying to slip away. Instead of the familiar presence coming back to him, Chuuya felt soft lips brush against his forehead. All the warmth was gone.

“I’ll be back, mon petite rockstar,” Dazai mumbled against Chuuya’s ear.

“Dazai,” Chuuya whined, already stirring awake. He started to blink his eyes open.

Dazai chuckled. Chuuya probably looked ridiculous, half-asleep and groggy, eyes blearily trying to blink awake, hair knotted and mused from Dazai’s persistence of playing with his hair last night.

“I just have to take care of a few things, I promise it won’t take long,” Dazai said.

Chuuya pouted. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me the morning after. What am I? Just a one-night stand?”

“Funny,” Dazai replied dryly. He began to pace around the room, clearly trying to locate something.

“Here,” Dazai said, handing Chuuya whatever he found.

Chuuya immediately wrapped his arms around the plush object. In his half-asleep mind he processed that it was the sheep he had won Dazai months ago. Dazai really had kept it and brought it with him. If Chuuya wasn’t so tired, he would totally tease Dazai for it.

But, instead, Chuuya curled back up in the center of the bed. While it wasn’t as nice as the real thing, the sheep did smell like Dazai and it was easy to clutch to his chest. Chuuya half registered Dazai pulling the covers back up to his shoulders and press another kiss to Chuuya’s cheek.

“Sleep tight,” Dazai whispered.

“You better be back soon, you ass,” Chuuya grumbled. He had no idea if Dazai could hear him because his face was pressed close to the sheep plushie, but he was already falling into a deep sleep.




The next time Chuuya woke up, it was because his phone was vibrating against the wood of the bedside table in such a horrific and persistent manner that there was no other way to block it out. With his face still buried into the sheep’s wool, Chuuya reached his hand out to grope for his phone. Once he located it, he instinctively swiped to answer and held it up to his ear. He didn’t even bother to check who was calling.

“Hello,” Chuuya said, sleep clearly laced within his tone.

“Chuuya,” it was Kunikida, and he sounded anxious, “Have you seen Dazai?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chuuya replied. “A few hours ago, why?”

“But not anytime recently?” Kunikida questioned.

“What’s with the sudden interrogation?” Chuuya asked, trying to joke around. “It’s not like he’s dead.”

Kunikida didn’t reply.

Chuuya immediately woke up. He shot up out of the bed, almost throwing the plushie halfway across the room in shock. Instead, Chuuya held the sheep so tight that he could feel his nails through the fabric.

“That was a fucking joke,” Chuuya gritted. “All he said was that he was going to take care of some stuff. Do you know what that means? Or, hell, if that means anything good?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he’s doing well,” Kunikida finally replied.

“Kunikida,” Chuuya said, slowly. “What happened?”

Instead of answering, Kunikida, once again, asked another question. “Have you seen the recent news articles?”

Chuuya shook his head no, forgetting that Kunikida couldn’t see him. “No, I just woke up.”

“Apparently a journalist saw you and Dazai last night,” Kunikida explained. “He posted pictures and an article, and ever since then speculation and scandals have been spreading.”

Chuuya’s blood ran cold. Every fiber in his body turned to ice. His hand was shaking, partly from the cold, but mostly from the anger festering inside the pit of his stomach.

They took every precaution necessary. They covered up their more defined features. They walked in such a confusing way to get the graveyard that Chuuya didn’t even know where they were headed. Dazai hadn’t tipped anyone off.

They did everything right.

There was no reason to explain why they deserved this.

Chuuya barely heard what Kunikida was saying over the line. All he could see was ice cold blue. He was so angry that he had gone past seeing red fire. No, what he saw was the blue of the flame, so hot that one touch could cause permanent damage.

Chuuya only registered Kunikida’s final words of, “Nakahara, don’t do anything stupid. I’m sure Dazai is okay. I’ll try and find him soon.” Then the line went dead.

The phone slipped out of Chuuya’s hand and landed on the mattress beneath him. Chuuya was in no shape to look through social media to catch up what he had missed. Instead of sparing his phone another glance, Chuuya decided to shower.

That shower ended up being one of the hottest showers of Chuuya’s entire life. Because his body had practically gone numb from feeling so cold, Chuuya tried to warm up in every way that he could. Plus, the warm water felt great on his aching muscles. He still felt a little sore from last night. Damn Dazai.

Once Chuuya had dried his hair and changed into one of Dazai’s sweatshirts and a clean pair of jeans, he made his way back to his phone. He was still fucking pissed, but less so. As much as he wished it was possible, there was no way he could turn back time and punch the grimy reporter spying on them.

Chuuya picked up his discarded phone from the bed and began to scroll through his notifications. He had almost fifty missed calls, nearly half of them from Kouyou, while the rest were from various friends. If he thought that was bad, he had over twice as many text messages from virtually everyone in his contacts list.

Chuuya winced.

Starting with the easy stuff, Chuuya read some of the text messages. The most recent ones were from Black Lizard.


[Tachihara]: hey chuuya. you okay?


[Gin]: Dazai isn’t that bad of a person. I’m sure Chuuya is fine.


[Higuchi]: Chuuya please call one of us


[Tachihara]: chuuya if ur not okay

[Tachihara]: you always hated dazai anyway

[Tachihara]: now you have more of a reason

[Tachihara]: we understand


[Gin]: Tachihara, don’t be blindsided. I’m sure everything is being blown out of proportion just to sell a few magazines.


[Tachihara]: pls call :(


[Atsushi]: Chuuya-san!!!!

[Atsushi]: Dazai-san would never do that to you!!!

[Atsushi]: I’m sure this is a misunderstanding!!!!!


[Kouyou]: Call me ASAP.


[Akutagawa]: Jinko told me what happened.

[Akutagawa]: []

[Akutagawa]: Here’s the article that everyone saw.

[Akutagawa]: I don’t think you need comforting, but just know that I don’t believe a word of it. Dazai-san wouldn’t talk about someone he was only using as a “rebound.”


Chuuya clicked on the link with shaky fingers. Leave it up to Akutagawa, who he had only known briefly, to know what to do better than any of his longer-term friends. He read every single word from the article Fyodor Dostoyevsky published.

From what Chuuya understood, Fyodor had apparently been there, taken pictures of Dazai and Chuuya, and then proceeded to dig up who Sakunosuke Oda was. That slimy fucking rat. Chuuya had no idea that there had been another pair of eyes on them.

Judging by the content in the article, Fyodor hadn’t heard a word of what Dazai and Chuuya actually said. Or if he had, he chose to write a different story. Chuuya really hoped that Fyodor had just been too far away to hear. It had taken everything within Dazai to open up. Chuuya didn’t need Dazai to constantly be looking over his shoulder every time he spoke to Chuuya.

After he scrolled past the final picture and read some of the comments, Chuuya locked his phone and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

The worst part about Fyodor’s article was that Chuuya couldn’t necessarily deny it. He hadn’t known all of the information Fyodor presented. Dazai didn’t show him any of those photos. He didn’t even know what Oda looked like.

At the time, it had seemed like such trivial things. Chuuya had thought it obvious that Oda was really just a friend to Dazai, one of the first and only friends Dazai had. But after reading this, could he say that was the whole truth?

Chuuya’s not sure.

And it was eating him up inside.

Was he really that naïve?

On one hand, he had a right to be skeptical. Like Dazai had said, he had lied to Chuuya in the past. What makes this instance any different?

But on the other hand, Dazai had been getting better. Chuuya had never seen that emotional side of Dazai before. Just because him telling the full truth was different, didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Chuuya so desperately wanted it to be true.

Deciding not to jump to conclusions, Chuuya stopped dwelling on it. Dazai deserved the right to explain everything to Chuuya. There was no way Chuuya was going to turn on Dazai. Not after everything they had been through. That wasn’t fair to Dazai.

Finally, there was one thing that Chuuya needed to check: Twitter. Fucking Twitter. Chuuya felt like all of his problems could be avoided and solved had he never gotten a Twitter.

And wouldn’t things be so different? He never would’ve drunk tweeted Dazai, he never would’ve fallen in love, he never would’ve felt the most intense and real pain in his life. Maybe deleting Twitter was a good idea.

Chuuya took another deep breath before opening up the dreaded app. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the hashtag doubleblack was trending. Well, at least that made looking through what everyone thought on the manner easier.


i do not stan dazai @hugsforchuuya – 10h

I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN SAYING THIS FOR MONTHS!!! d*zai is not to be trusted!! and now he’s gone and hurt chuuya what the fucking fuck!!!!! #doubleblack #doubleblackisover


double black @lovelyosamu – 8h

everyone jumping to conclusions is legit surreal

please stop making judgements over two people we do not even KNOW #doubleblack


protect chuuya @forthesorrow – 6h

chuuya better break up with d*zai or I s2g I’ll make d*zai pay for what he’s done #doubleblack #doubleblackisover


STOP HARASSING DAZAI @yokohamas – 6h

I cannot fucking believe you guys. This is obviously something personal to Dazai. He’s probably hurting more than any of you. Fuck off. #doubleblack


Katie is away until drama dies~ @fyosamu – 5h

if these accusations are true and dazai has really been stringing chuuya along I will legit be shocked... dazai seemed so in love with chuuya #doubleblack


Daily Pictures of Dazai @dailydazai – 4h

For everyone asking why we haven’t posted anything from Dazai and Chuuya at Yokohama’s graveyard, we personally believe those pictures were taken without consent and was a moment only for Dazai and Chuuya, not us. #doubleblack


cosmological; @starschuuya – 3h

hey @taintedsorrow are you okay? #doubleblack


With that, Chuuya decided there was only one thing left to do. He needed to find Dazai. There was no way he was letting anyone get to Dazai before him.




The second Chuuya walked outside of the hotel, he regretted not thinking this through. Chuuya still had no idea where anything was. He had a few ideas where Dazai could be: his record label, the pier, the park, some of the cafes they went to. Those were all places that Dazai spoke with fondness about. But did Chuuya have any idea where any of those places were in relation to where he is now? No.

Chuuya wandered around aimlessly, trying to recall buildings and streets that looked familiar which Dazai had walked him down days ago. It was so incredibly frustrating that Chuuya couldn’t sprint directly to Dazai’s side. On top of the pressure of locating Dazai, Chuuya could constantly feel the presence of cameras pointed on him.

It’s not like Chuuya bothered to hide his appearance, his red hair whipping behind him as he moved, baggy sweatshirt doing nothing to cover his features. The paparazzi got him into this mess, they deserved to see the state of distress they put him in. Chuuya didn’t give a fuck.

He ran around the city for what felt like hours. Every time Chuuya thought he knew where he was, he would make one extra turn and be just as lost as before. And it’s not like he could use a map app on his phone. The only building he knew the name of was Dazai’s record label, which Chuuya quickly ruled out because it was far too public.

Chuuya was out of breath. He was tired. He was sweaty. And at this point, he was giving up hope. Maybe Dazai truly didn’t want to be found? The mere thought broke Chuuya’s heart. That after everything, all the ups and downs, all the waiting and games, they still couldn’t make it work. Not that Chuuya believed in fate or whatever, but it really seemed like something somewhere did not want Dazai and Chuuya to be happy.

There was nothing Chuuya wanted to do more than scream a giant ‘fuck you’ at whatever was toying with him. Fuckers.

Right as Chuuya was about to turn around and run in the opposite direction, he heard his phone blare from his pocket. Chuuya fumbled to answer as quick as he could. When Chuuya looked at the screen, he was shocked to see that it was a number which he didn’t have. That was incredibly rare.

And it was from this area code. A small part of Chuuya’s hope returned. Could it be...?

Chuuya answered as fast he could, not even bothering to hold back the first words that came to his mind. “Dazai?” He asked as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, the other person on the line sighed, sad. Chuuya couldn’t see them, but he imagined that whoever was on the other end was shaking their head. Every feeling of excitement and hope which had just come back immediately vanished.

Chuuya was half tempted to hang up right on the spot. If this was some kind of joke, or hell a reporter, Chuuya was going to scream all his deep-seated anger. He had no fucking time for this bullshit.

“Who is this, then?” Chuuya snapped.

The person once again sighed. “Hello, Chuuya-san,” a deep, clearly masculine, voice replied. “My name is Ango Sakaguchi, and I am-”

Chuuya immediately cut Ango off. He had heard that name more times than he could count in the past day. He didn’t need Ango’s formalities. Chuuya knew exactly who he was. Ango was probably the one person Chuuya needed more than ever at a time like this.

“You’re one of Dazai’s friends,” Chuuya blurted out.

Ango stuttered over the line, clearly caught off guard. “Is that what Dazai-kun called me?”

“Yes,” Chuuya nearly exclaimed. “Goddamn, how did you get this number?”

“Ah, I actually got a call from Kunikida-kun,” Ango explained. “He asked me if I had any idea where Dazai would go if he felt trapped. I said yes, but I told him that I would only tell you. I don’t think Dazai-kun would respond well to Kunikida-kun finding him. But you’re probably who he needs.”

Chuuya was speechless. He could barely comprehend that someone, such as Ango, who had barely known him could somehow try and look out for Chuuya.

“Shit,” Chuuya breathed out. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“It’s the right to do,” Ango replied. “Now, anyways, Dazai-kun is most likely at Lupin, a bar that he used to frequent with me and Oda. Do you know where that is?”

Chuuya nearly slapped himself in the face. Of coursethat would be where Dazai is. It was private enough that only his closest friends would know its significance and obscure enough that it would fall hidden in the shadows of Yokohama. Chuuya didn’t need any more convincing to know that was where Dazai was.

“Dazai showed me it. But I don’t think I can get there on my own,” Chuuya said sheepishly.

Ango hummed over the line. “I’ll send you the address. Also, Dazai-kun might not be in the bar. If that’s the case, ask the bartender if he’s seen Dazai-kun. He’ll know what to do.”

“Thank you,” Chuuya said. “I’ll find Dazai, I promise.”

“Oh, and Chuuya-san,” Ango added. “I know you might not fully believe me, but the type of relationship Oda and Dazai-kun had was nothing like what you two have. If anything, Dazai-kun viewed Oda as the father figure he never had but always wanted. He very much took what Oda said to heart.

“With you, Dazai seems truly and hopelessly devoted. He was never in love with Oda, I can guarantee you that. I know you’re probably going to want to hear it from him, but I wouldn’t lie for Dazai-kun. I cared for Oda as well.”

Chuuya didn’t know what to say. Dazai hadn’t given Ango nearly enough credit for everything that he had gone through and had to put up with. Chuuya mentally added that to the long laundry list of things he was going to yell at Dazai for later.

“Thank you, Ango,” Chuuya repeated honestly. “That really does mean a lot.”

Ango clicked his tongue in approval. “Good luck, Chuuya-san.”

And with that, the line went dead. Chuuya took a deep breath before pocketing his phone. He tied up his hair and threw the hood over his head, at least somewhat disguised. Finally, Chuuya took one step forward and broke into a sprint. He was so fucking close.




It took nearly twenty minutes of Chuuya diligently following the instructions on his phone, making confusing turns to make sure that no one was tailing him, and trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible before he arrived at Lupin. This place was seriously a hole in the wall. No wonder he couldn’t find this place. Even when Dazai pointed it out to him, Chuuya had missed it.

The only distinguishing characteristic that confirmed Chuuya was in the right place was the sign hanging above the doorway. It wasn’t even lit in broad daylight, but it did read Lupin in clear English. There was even a drawing of an old-fashioned man wearing a monocle and a top hat. It seemed far too subdued for Dazai’s tastes, but Chuuya supposed that’s why it was the perfect hiding spot.

Hesitantly, Chuuya walked up to the front door. Peeking through the glazed window, it seemed like no lights were on and that no one was inside. Chuuya glanced to the side of the building where the hours were prominently displayed, confirming they were supposedly open. No way did he make this far only to turn away at the first sign of confrontation.

Chuuya opened the front door and was a little shocked to see that the first thing upon entering was a set of stairs leading down. Huh. Maybe that’s why it was so dark? There did seem to be a warm glow coming from the bottom of the stairs, and Chuuya could hear the faint sound of a saxophone. Was that jazz?

He began to descend the stairs. Halfway down the stairs Chuuya threw off his hood, confident that anyone here wouldn’t harass him for the drama swirling outside. He felt oddly safe here. Content even.

Once Chuuya got to the bottom of the stairs he was engulfed in golden light. The bar itself looked almost antique. The bar top and shelving units were made of a deep mahogany wood, and the stools’ deep red cushions complemented the gold tones nicely. Chuuya could also confirm that the music was indeed jazz and that it was coming from a record player in the corner of the room.

It really was homey.

Chuuya glanced around and felt his heart tug when he didn’t see a familiar mop of brown hair anywhere. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. Ango did warn him about this after all. Instead Chuuya noticed a man eyeing him carefully behind the bar. He was cleaning a glass idly.

Chuuya nodded politely to the man. He most likely owned the place.

“Hi,” Chuuya said as he sat down on the stool directly in front of the bartender. “My name is Chuuya.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nakahara-san,” he replied.

Ah, so he did know Chuuya’s face. Then he most definitely knew Dazai. And hopefully had an inkling of an idea as to why Chuuya was here.

“I hate to be rude,” Chuuya said. “But do you have any idea where Dazai is?”

The man nodded and gestured to the door nestled in the corner of the bar. A sign on the door clearly read ‘Roof Access. Employees Only.’ Chuuya quirked his eyebrow. Really? Dazai and heights?

The bartender then wordlessly handed Chuuya the keys and moved into a room behind the bar, seemingly giving Chuuya some privacy. Chuuya held the keys tightly in his hand, the cool metal reminding him that he was only a couple flights of stairs away from Dazai.

With that, he moved to the corner of the bar, unlocked the door, and began to walk up three flights of stairs. It was only when Chuuya’s hand was wrapped around the handle, which would open to the roof, did he realize he had no idea what to say to Dazai. Hell, he had no idea what to expect on the other side of this door.

Chuuya had joked that Dazai might be dead, but what if that was the truth? What if everything from the past couple months, on top of this traumatic event, had been too much for him to handle? Chuuya could barely stomach the thought.

Chuuya squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the worst, before he turned the handle and pushed open the roof’s door. The wind blew through Chuuya’s hair and his sweatshirt causing him to shiver. Only when Chuuya heard a small inhale of breath did he crack open his eyes.

There, with his back leaning against the railing of the roof, sat Dazai. He looked terrible. His hair was completely windswept and unkempt, knotting in certain places. His eyes looked bloodshot, almost as if he had been crying for hours. His skin looked paler than usual. Chuuya even had to advert his eyes from the black stained bandages on the inside of Dazai’s forearms.

“Chuuya?” Dazai asked, even though he didn’t seem to believe his own eyes.

The utter shock and despair in Dazai’s voice is what finally broke Chuuya. He felt tears in the corners of his own eyes start to well up. This was real. All of this was actually happening. It wasn’t some kind of PR nightmare. Chuuya barely got over to Dazai before his knees buckled, collapsing on the rooftop next to Dazai.

Chuuya buried his head in Dazai’s chest, breathing him in deeply. He then wrapped his arms tight around Dazai’s waist, grounding himself in the moment, reminding himself that Dazai was here and that he was okay.

“How did you...?”

“Ango contacted me,” Chuuya whispered.

Dazai didn’t say anything. Instead he continued to stare off into the distance. Chuuya could practically hear Dazai’s mind whirling. All the cogs and wheels spinning on overdrive. Fuck, Chuuya wanted to shut up Dazai’s brain for a while.

Tilting his head upwards, Chuuya pressed a soft kiss against Dazai’s jaw.

“Hey,” Chuuya whispered between kisses, “Talk to me.”

“Why are you here?” Dazai asked instead. He didn’t sound angry or accusatory or even confused. He didn’t even really sound all the way here.

Chuuya paused his affections, shifting so that he could look Dazai in the eyes. Dazai complied and also stared into Chuuya’s eyes. There was no light there. If anything, Dazai’s gaze looked glazed over and foggy. Chuuya’s stomach flopped, he didn’t like seeing this side of Dazai.

But he meant what he said. He wanted Dazai. The whole Dazai. Even the bad and ugly parts were what made Dazai beautiful. And this was not going to change Chuuya’s mind.

“I wanted to hear everything from you,” Chuuya replied. “It’s your story to tell. Why the fuck would I believe someone else over you?”

Surprise flickered in Dazai’s eyes before it vanished all together.

“Do you believe it?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”


“Well then, I don’t.”

This baffled Dazai. He scrunched up his nose and mulled over that comment. “What if I had been lying?”

“I don’t think you are. Besides, that’s part of the risk of trusting someone.”

“You trust me, Chuuya? After everything I’ve done to you?”


Dazai huffed. He slumped against the railing, wrapping an arm loosely around Chuuya’s waist, lost in thought.

And then he broke.

Without warning, tears began to stream down Dazai’s cheeks. Dazai’s breathing began to hitch uncontrollably as he couldn’t stop the overwhelming emotions from spilling over. He quickly buried his head in Chuuya’s shoulder, hiding his face from the rest of the world. If Chuuya had to guess, this was probably one of the only times Dazai had allowed himself to cry.

Chuuya immediately wrapped his arms around Dazai’s head. He stroked one hand through Dazai’s hair to comfort him. As the minutes droned on, Chuuya could feel his shoulder soak with tears. But he really didn’t care. Dazai was finally, finally,letting everything out.

After a few more minutes of strained breaths and choked tears, Dazai finally seemed to calm down. He shifted slightly so that his cheek was pressed against Chuuya’s shoulder and so Chuuya could hear his words.

“I can’t believe this happened,” Dazai rasped. “In all the outcomes I had predicted of last night, this was not one of them.”

“It’s okay,” Chuuya reassured. “There’s no way you could’ve known this.”

“But I should’ve.”

“Nobody is expecting that of you. I definitely am not.”

“You don’t get it,” Dazai snapped. “Even when I was young, Odasaku never wanted to be in the spotlight. After I got famous, Ango, Odasaku, and myself always made sure to meet in places where no one would see us. And now I’ve gone and shown Odasaku to the world posthumously and on top of all that, everyone hates him.”


“I failed him, Chuuya,” Dazai mumbled. He sounded so incredibly small. Unlike anything Chuuya had ever witnessed before.

“Look at me,” Chuuya directed.

Without giving Dazai a chance to protest, Chuuya cupped his hands under Dazai’s cheeks and tilted his face so he was looking at Chuuya directly in the eyes. Chuuya even used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away some of the still wet tears on Dazai’s cheeks.

“You did not fail Oda,” Chuuya said firmly. “You did not fail me. You did not fail Ango. You didn’t fail Kunikida or Fukuzawa or your record label. And you definitely did not fail your fans.”

It felt so weird to comfort Dazai. Chuuya’s done it a couple times now, but every time it felt off. Not wrong or abnormal, but Chuuya had always viewed Dazai as someone who had a strong sense of self and a clear plan of what he wanted in life. Getting to know the man behind the mask was something that Chuuya treasured, sure, but it still took some adjusting.

Even a few months ago when Chuuya took Dazai to Santa Monica, that was a huge risk. From what Chuuya understood, actions meant a lot to Dazai. Doing things helped busy his mind, whereas sometimes words got muddled within that big brain of his. But now, here, there was nothing but words for Chuuya to use to comfort Dazai.

Dazai shook his head.

“You’re still not getting it,” Dazai replied dejectedly.

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. He was seriously confused. What happened really wasn’t Dazai’s fault. If anything, Dazai should be pissed at Fyodor Dostoevsky who took those pictures and wrote that article. Why was Dazai so hung up about this? Clearly his friend would understand this was beyond Dazai’s control?

“I wasn’t strong enough, Chuuya,” Dazai whispered. “I let this get to me. I really thought I was getting better.”

Chuuya felt a sharp pain in his heart. Images of the reddish-black on Dazai’s arms swirled throughout Chuuya’s mind. In fact, all Chuuya had to do was tilt his head down in order to look at what Dazai was referencing.

“That’s okay,” Chuuya mumbled. “Recovery is tough, it’s fucking tough as hell. I’m not going to lie to you, it’s going to be the toughest thing you’re ever going to do. And it’s not always going to be a perfect straight shot, but that’s okay.

“Every time you relapse, that doesn’t make you lesser. One bad day does not mean you haven’t made progress. Think about this way, the reason it hurts so bad was because you made it further than ever before.”

Dazai’s eyes began to sparkle at Chuuya. If even just a little bit. At least Chuuya knew he was listening. Taking that as a sign, Chuuya continued.

“Here, I want to show you something,” Chuuya said.

He brought his hands down from Dazai’s face and extended his right palm. Scars littered Chuuya’s hand. They had mostly faded into small milky white indents scattered throughout his hand, but there was one more pinkish scar running from below his wrist and up between his ring and index finger.

Dazai’s eyes darted all across Chuuya’s hand. Hesitantly he brought his finger up to run across Chuuya’s scars. Chuuya saw a slight flash of red under Dazai’s arm but didn’t bother to bring attention to it.

“It was really hard to stop doing something that I loved,” Chuuya explained. “Sometimes I would play the guitar even though I know it would reopen wounds just because it soothed me, and honestly the pain wasn’t so bad. But I learned to care about my body and listen to its needs.”

At this point, Dazai slowly intertwined his fingers with Chuuya’s. They both watched as Dazai’s fingers slid over Chuuya’s skin with such hesitance and gentleness, that Chuuya was almost convinced this wasn’t the same person who literally dug bruises into his hips last night.

“I’ll be there to support you,” Chuuya whispered.

For the first time since Chuuya came up here, Dazai smiled. Even if it was a small half smile and even though it looked somewhat forced, it was still progress. And Chuuya was a firm believer in practice makes perfect. Hopefully that means Dazai’s smile will become real soon enough.

“I get that it’s hard,” Chuuya said pressing his lips to Dazai’s hand. “But if it was easy, everyone would do it, right?” Another press of Chuuya’s lips. “And you sure as hell aren’t like everyone else.” A final kiss. “I’m really proud of you, Osamu Dazai.”

Dazai huffed. “You’re something else entirely, you know that, Chuuya Nakahara?”

“Can’t you go one day without teasing me?”

“Hmm,” Dazai pondered, wrapping his arms fully around Chuuya and pulling him flush against his body. “No.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully, but fully relaxed into Dazai’s touch. They sat in silence, Chuuya fully content on sitting here with Dazai all day.

“I’m sorry about ruining your sweatshirt,” Dazai finally said.

“That’s okay,” Chuuya replied. “It’s yours anyway.”

“Ne, Chuuya looks good in my clothes~”

“Possessive bastard.”

“It took forever to get you,” Dazai mumbled into Chuuya’s ear. “I’m not letting go anytime soon.”

Chuuya’s cheeks immediately heated up. “Don’t say cheesy shit like that!”

“This coming from you,” Dazai taunted. “You just said all that emotional stuff, how could I not repay the favor?”

“What did you want me to do, hah?! It’s not like I could take you to the pier again.”

“Why not? There’s one not even a couple miles away.”


Dazai laughed lightly. He then pressed a soft kiss to Chuuya’s cheek before saying quietly, “Thank you, Chuuya.”

Chuuya didn’t say anything more. He was just so fucking glad to have Dazai with him. Later he would remind Dazai of all the amazing things he had accomplished this past year alone, but for now, that was enough talking.



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3d

For everyone wondering how @nolongerhuman is doing, he’s not great but we’re ok. However, Dazai and I are going to spend some time off of socialmedia.


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3d

Not that it’s anyone else’s business but I’m still very fucking happy with Dazai



osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 20m

my official statement on what happened in yokohama. thank you for all being patient with me.



osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 15m

also huge thank you to chuuya for being so understanding during this all. i couldn’t have done it without you. i love you.

Chapter Text

Dazai breathed in and breathed out. Chuuya was honestly shocked that Dazai had agreed to do something like this. Addressing everyone as a whole? Stop the rumors once and for all? It was so unlike Dazai, someone who lived off of ambiguities, but Chuuya supposed this was an entirely different beast.

“Ready?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai nodded. “Ready.”

Chuuya hit the record button on Dazai’s phone. Their set-up was pretty laughable. Dazai was sat up against the headboard of the hotel room’s bed while Chuuya was sitting at the foot of the bed. In order to get decent lighting, Dazai and Chuuya had to angle every light within the room on Dazai, which involved unplugging and re-plugging in lights in some, probably, illegal ways. They even had to open the bedroom curtains in such a way, so the natural light was only hitting Dazai.

Dazai waved at the camera. He had decided to wear a very thick beige sweater, so even with the added layer of bandages on his forearms, it would be very hard for anyone to determine something was wrong.

“Hello everybody from Japan,” Dazai excitedly said.

“English, Dazai,” Chuuya corrected off-camera.

“Oh right,” Dazai said sheepishly, easily switching from Japanese to English so that a majority of people could understand.

“I wanted to discuss what’s been going on recently,” Dazai began. “First off, those pictures were a complete invasion of both my privacy and Chuuya’s. That was an incredibly personal moment to both of us and the fact that we cannot even walk peacefully and safely is revolting.

“Secondly, I wanted to talk about Oda Sakunosuke. Odasaku was a very close friend to me and that’s all he ever was. He was a great man, an even better friend, and a loving caretaker. I don’t want to talk about the specifics of how he died, but believe me when I say the world lost a truly unique and wonderful person.

“Chuuya actually discouraged me from making this video because he didn’t think I owed you guys an explanation. And while I agree, I also want to explain why Odasaku was never publicly apart of my life.

“Odasaku was a private person. He ran an orphanage, and because of that he didn’t want my success to bleed off onto his business. As wonderful as it is for children to be adopted, Odasaku was a stickler for making sure these kids found good homes and loving families. Someone adopting a kid simply because they were from Osamu Dazai’s friend’s orphanage wasn’t okay.

“It’s not that I was hiding some big secret, it was simply out of respect for my friend. All of those pictures were also harmless. Like I said, Odasaku was one of my closest friends. Of course I’m going to look at him fondly. But don’t be confused by the way I look at Odasaku for the way I look at Chuuya. I don’t feel the same way I feel for Chuuya as I did or Odasaku.

“That bring me to my next point, the coincidence of Chuuya and Odasaku looking somewhat similar is just that, a coincidence. I actually didn’t even notice it until it was pointed out to me. Which in turn caused a huge dilemma if I was subconsciously falling for Chuuya because he looked like my old friend.

“But, no, I started dating Chuuya because he was unlike anyone I had ever met before. He’s so unlike Odasaku and my other friend Ango, or anyone else in the music industry. Chuuya isn’t afraid to fight back, isn’t afraid to call me out, and isn’t afraid to make me learn to love myself.”

At this point, Chuuya had a big dumb grin on his face. Dazai had stopped looking into the phone’s camera and was instead making eye contact with Chuuya. Chuuya bit his lip nervously.

“Stick to the script, dumbass,” Chuuya said half-heartedly.

Dazai chuckled. “Right, right,” he said. The small smile disappeared from Dazai’s face as he continued, “Odasaku’s death was hard for me. Again, I won’t go into specifics, but yes, those pictures did accurately depict how much of a strain it was to lose my best friend. As time went on, I got better.

“Finally, the reason I wanted to address this in the first place was because I want to be open with everyone. I’m so incredibly happy with my relationship and all of the new projects that I’m taking on, and I want to be able to share that with you. However, I need there to be a mutual respect.

“I don’t want you guys to demand to know more about my life than I’m willing to share. I don’t want a situation like this to arise where I feel as if I cannot have my own privacy. This goes for both my fans and reporters. This was too far and I’m not afraid to use both legal and illegal-”

“Dazai, you can’t say that,” Chuuya exclaimed, exasperated.

“-methods to ensure that my privacy remains intact. I’m tired of the fan wars. I love Chuuya and I want you guys to all trust that I’m going to take good care of him, and that he is also going to take good care of me. We’re doing fine, and we really hope you guys can support us from here on out.”

Chuuya reached forward in front of the camera and stuck out a big thumbs up. He then moved his hand to lightly boop Dazai on the nose. Dazai smiled softly back.

“I love you too, you know that, right?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai hummed. “You stopped recording, didn’t you?”

Chuuya clicked his tongue. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean everyone else gets to hear me say that.”

“You’re just as weirdly possessive,” Dazai teased.



Once they got back from Japan, Dazai easily wormed his way back into Chuuya’s apartment. Chuuya really didn’t mind. Considering how off Dazai still was, it was an easy way to keep an eye on him and coax him to eat, and read, and even cuddle. (Not that Chuuya wouldn’t dare admit how often they did the last thing on that list.)

All things considered, Chuuya really didn’t anticipate Dazai being active for the next couple of weeks at the very least. As a result, Chuuya really did try to make his apartment as accommodating to Dazai as possible. He wanted to make sure Dazai felt like this was just as much his home as it was Chuuya’s.

It was going really well. Like exceptionally well. Especially when compared to a few months ago. When Dazai used to stay over for the night, it was always weird to have to set up the couch as a bed and even more awkward when Chuuya would wake up and realize he fell asleep on Dazai. But now, only after a few weeks, it was easy to fall into bed with Dazai and wake up pressed close to his chest.

Sometimes Dazai wouldn’t leave Chuuya’s bedroom for the entire day. Other times, Dazai would camp out in Chuuya’s makeshift studio and listen to Chuuya rehearse for hours on end without making a sound. And even more rare, there were days when Dazai couldn’t let go of Chuuya. He would always hold Chuuya’s hand, or wrap his arms around Chuuya’s waist, and just talk about everything that was on his mind.

Chuuya was no therapist, but he understood where Dazai was coming from. He wanted to be there for Dazai and listen to his insecurities, and more importantly, for Dazai to know that Chuuya trusted him. Of all the ways Chuuya pictured himself starting his first real relationship, it definitely wasn’t amidst a scandal.

But, after all, Dazai and Chuuya started talking because of a slight scandal. It was only fitting that something this dramatic would happen to them. Besides, it definitely put their new relationship to the test, and it seemed to be holding up so far.

Slowly but surely Dazai was working back to his old annoying self. And honestly? Chuuya much preferred this Dazai. This Dazai who was sad and somber, who sometimes stared off into the distance lost in thought. He didn’t want Dazai to completely pretend that everything was okay, putting up yet another mask.

Dazai was willingly allowing himself to be vulnerable and to heal, with Chuuya’s help of course. Chuuya could genuinely feel like Dazai was trying. And that was enough for now. They were taking it one day at a time.



“Fab Love?”

Chuuya jumped from his place on the piano bench, nearly colliding heads with Dazai in the process. He was so engrossed with shuffling through the papers on top of his piano that he hadn’t even heard Dazai enter the studio, nor walk up behind him, nor bend over to read over his shoulder.

“Dammit, Dazai,” Chuuya hissed, catching his breath. “Why can’t you warn me like a normal person?”

Dazai completely bypassed Chuuya’s question, repeating himself, “What’s Fab Love?”

Chuuya sighed. “It’s a potential album title name. You can take a look if you’d like.”

“You’re not naming it Haitoku no Kodou?”

Chuuya shook his head no. “No, I want that to be an emotional song only, not referred to as the whole album.”

Dazai hummed. He reached past Chuuya’s head to sift through the papers across on Chuuya’s piano. There were papers with dozens of lyrics, either used or unused. Some papers had concept drawings for songs that Chuuya crafted in order to find the right meaning. There was even one paper with a saxophone drawn in the corner and nothing else.

Chuuya liked watching Dazai assess what was in front of him. It was always so interesting to watch Dazai’s minute facial expressions. If he liked something, his eyes would widen ever so slightly, and the corners of his mouth would raise a fraction. Conversely, if Dazai didn’t like something, his eyebrows could scrunch up and he would blink a few too many times.

Dazai was mesmerizing.

Finally, Dazai spoke, “I like Trash Candy.”

“I am not naming my newest album Trash Candy.”

“Why not?” Dazai asked, tilting his head to the side curiously. “You named one of your songs that.”

Without even glancing down Chuuya deadpanned, “I named one of my old song Baby Bad Boy, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Dazai burst out laughing. He tried to contain himself, but it seemed that Chuuya’s comment had caught him so off guard that it caused Dazai to laugh hard. Dazai even had to wrap his arms around his stomach to calm down the fit.

Meanwhile, Chuuya just stared at Dazai dumbfounded. This was the first time since they got home that Dazai had allowed himself to laugh that genuine, not trying to muffle the sound escaping his lips. Chuuya thought it was gorgeous. He almost forgot what Dazai’s laugh sounded like.

“Chibi is so stupid,” Dazai wheezed as he calmed down.

“Oi,” Chuuya exclaimed, “I didn’t even attack you!”

“Relax, mon petite rockstar,” Dazai said softly, running a hand through Chuuya’s locks. “I’m not trying to rile you up. I just forgot how you write music for you and not anyone else.”

Chuuya shivered at the contact, twisting slightly in his chair so Dazai could continue to play with the ends of his hair. For a few seconds, Chuuya processed Dazai’s words.

“I had no idea you found music that constricting as well,” Chuuya mumbled.

Dazai shrugged. “I guess I always thought that was the way it was supposed to go. In order to be successful, I was supposed to write what I thought would sell well.”

“And what changed your mind?”

Dazai looked up and locked eyes with Chuuya. “You.”

Chuuya involuntarily sucked in a breath. He didn’t dare break eye contact with Dazai, no matter how hot he felt his cheeks get. This was important, and Chuuya was not backing down.

Lately, Dazai had seemed to fall out of love with music, which absolutely broke Chuuya’s heart. Whenever Chuuya was feeling overwhelmed, frustrated, depressed, overjoyed, or any other intense feeling, he would always channel it into his music. There was something so therapeutic about being able to play whatever came to mind, whatever his emotions deemed at that very moment, and hear the raw notes produced.

Chuuya hoped that that part of Dazai still existed and yearned for music as an outlet. It had only been a couple of months ago that Dazai had played Haitoku no Kodou himself, after all.

Chuuya smiled sadly, bringing a hand up to cup Dazai’s cheek. “What’s mine is yours. If you ever want to use my equipment, you don’t even need to ask.”

Dazai smiled back, far more hopeful.


A couple days later Chuuya came back home to an empty apartment. He had left to go for a run and when he came back there was near silence. Chuuya scrunched up his face, confused. Dazai hadn’t mentioned that he was going out today.

Making sure that everything was okay, Chuuya checked every room in his apartment. By the time he finished walking around the living room, he noticed that there was light filtering out from the bottom of the doorway leading to his studio. Chuuya walked quietly over to the door that separated his make-shift studio and pressed his ear up to the wood.

Through the door, Chuuya could make out the choppy sounds of a piano being played. He smiled to himself, realizing that Dazai had taken his suggestion to heart. Out of tune and out of melody tunes be damned, this was the most beautiful sound to Chuuya’s ears. Not wanting to eavesdrop anymore, Chuuya backed away silently and made his way to the bathroom to shower.

This was Dazai’s time to heal and Chuuya would give him all the time he needed. As long as Chuuya was there for Dazai in the end, that was all that truly mattered.



osamu dazai ()☞ @nolongerhuman – 3 mo

why does this kinda look like chuuya: ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ


       Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3 mo

       @nolongerhuman We are sitting right next to each other just pay attention to me


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3 mo

Side note while Dazai put his phone down, this looks like him: ヽ(^ o ^)ノ



“Ne, Chuuya?”

Chuuya only grunted his acknowledgement that he was listening. Currently he was engrossed in the middle of a book he started last week, and he was almost done. There was no way in hell that Dazai’s bullshit was going to stop Chuuya from reading.

“Can I take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Chuuya nearly dropped the book that he was reading. He turned to Dazai on the other side of the couch to find that Dazai was already staring at him, waiting in anticipation for his answer. Well, guess that’s a good enough reason to dog-ear his page and finish reading later.

Chuuya searched Dazai’s eyes to make sure that he was actually comfortable with what he was saying. “You’re serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Dazai mumbled awkwardly. “I know we already went through the initial phase of dating, as backwards and non-traditional as it was, but I assumed you would want to continue going out.”

Chuuya sighed. “Of course I want all that, but what do you want?”

Dazai blinked at Chuuya blankly. He tilted his head slightly, clearly confused.

Holding back another sigh, Chuuya decided to take pity on Dazai. It seemed as though his idiot of a boyfriend wasn’t getting Chuuya’s words through his thick skull.

“Dazai, you dumbass, this is your relationship too. I’m not going to ask you to take me out just so we can be seen, I only did that shit because we had to. I like spending time with you, and if you don’t want to be hounded by the paparazzi, then we can stay the fuck indoors for all I care.”

Dazai stared at Chuuya, bewildered, before launching forward and wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s neck. In the wake of the unexpected action, Chuuya actually dropped his book in shock. Seizing the opportunity even further, Dazai lifted his hands up to skillfully unclasp Chuuya’s usual choker. Then Dazai bent his head down and kissed all the way up Chuuya’s neck, to his jaw, until finally Dazai’s lips were hovering over Chuuya’s.

“I didn’t know Chuuya felt that way about me~”

Chuuya groaned. He could already feel a headache coming on from how annoying Dazai could be sometimes. This was why Chuuya wanted to read in the first place. When Dazai changed moods so quickly, it only meant trouble for Chuuya. Seriously, it was not natural for anyone to go from sad, to confused, to horny in a matter of seconds.

Deciding not to deal with his Dazai’s insistent teasing, Chuuya tangled his hands in Dazai’s hair and coaxed him back to pressing kisses against Chuuya’s own neck.

“Please, for the love of God,” Chuuya rasped as he did so, “Put that mouth to better use.”

Dazai hummed happily against Chuuya’s skin and did just that. And then, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, Dazai and Chuuya adjusted wordlessly so they were laying on the couch. It wasn’t long until Dazai was sucking on old marks to make them brighter, or nipping on fresh skin, he was absolutely entranced with Chuuya. And, well, Chuuya forgot all about his headache, and book too, for that matter.



As if everything wasn’t already crazy enough, Chuuya was seriously starting to feel the pressure of trying to finalize an upcoming album which would live up to Haitoku no Kodou’s astronomical meaning. The album had been in the back of his head for a while now, but with Haitoku no Kodou set to release within the next couple months, it only made sense to have something on the back-burner.

And if Dazai was right, which he always fucking was, this song was going to be an absolute success. Besides a couple tweets, Chuuya has yet to comment on the whole situation or his feelings about Dazai. Everyone was waiting for something from Chuuya.

And hell, if Chuuya wasn’t going to make a statement. This amount of press coverage, rumors, and overall drama was never in the plan. Hopefully this song would prove to the public that Chuuya does feel strongly for Dazai, does believe him fully, and they don’t want this all to end. Fuck this wasn’t even Dazai’s fault.

So, more often than not, Chuuya was attempting to write song lyrics or compose music. It also seemed to give Dazai something tangible to focus on, rather than letting his mind wander, so he joined.

“What do you think about this?” Chuuya asked while strumming his guitar.

“What am I listening to?” Dazai asked.

“New album.”

“I thought you were going for a more jazz feel?”

“I am,” Chuuya confirmed.

Dazai scrunched up his nose in disgust. Chuuya scoffed at Dazai’s overdramatic antics.

“You can say you don’t like it.”

“Okay, I don’t like it-”

“How the fuck can you not like it?” Chuuya retorted, not even letting Dazai finish his sentiments. “Have you ever written something jazzy?!”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then how could you possibly know what you’re talking about?!”

Instead of responding, Dazai just stared at Chuuya pointedly. Oh right. Dazai was a fucking genius. How could Chuuya forget? Dazai could listen literally half a lyric of a song and know if it would go platinum. What an asshole.

Chuuya just grumbled and started to strum something different.

“You’re sulking,” Dazai pointed out.

“Am not.”

“Are too!” Dazai whined, “Chuuya, you told me to tell you that yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you would like it!”

“I just don’t think it’s got the right feel you’re looking for,” Dazai said softer. “I don’t want Chuuya to release something that’s not as strong as everything else.”

Chuuya blinked dumbly at Dazai. Finally understanding what Dazai was trying to do, Chuuya’s face flushed in equal parts embarrassment and admiration.

“Your methods for helping me are fucked up,” Chuuya deadpanned. “Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have immediately started playing something far different, and far better, I might add. You would’ve tried to convince me that the initial melody was correct.”

Chuuya pouted. He would never admit that Dazai was right, both in his methodology and his opinion on Chuuya’s song, but it was nice to have someone who was willing to push Chuuya to his absolute best.

Dazai shook his head softly and chuckled.

“Speaking of being a pain in my ass,” Chuuya said, “When are you leaving my fucking apartment?”

Dazai shrugged. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chuuya pretended not to hear Dazai, strumming his guitar and writing down notes that resonated with him. It went without saying that Chuuya didn’t want Dazai to leave. His question wasn’t as much an accusation as it was fear he was going to lose Dazai.

Instead of pestering Chuuya for not answering his question, Dazai spoke again. “I suppose if you need me to leave, I can. I have a house after all.”

“Oh? I find that hard to believe considering how much you’re here and refuse to help out.”

“I do. It’s in Calabasas.”

Chuuya nearly snapped the strings of his guitar in shock. “What?!”

“Yeah, have I never showed you?” Dazai asked, feigning innocence. “It’s on the side of a mountain; very nice, quiet, spacious.”

“You have your own fucking mountain?!”

“It’s not my mountain, mon petite rockstar,” Dazai corrected. “I just live on it.”

“How the fuck did someone as uncultured and unfashionable as you get such a nice house?” Chuuya asked, exasperated.

Dazai shrugged, pulling out his phone and showing Chuuya an album of different rooms and angles of his house. “I don’t really like it that much.”

Dazai watched as Chuuya scrolled through the photos. Picture after picture showed expertly decorated rooms, modern furniture and artwork, and giant windows letting in tons of natural light. However, as Chuuya continued to look through the album, he slowly realized why Dazai didn’t spend a lot of time in his house.

It looked lonely. There was hardly anything personal of Dazai’s which indicated that he was living there. If Chuuya hadn’t been told that this was Dazai’s house, he would’ve assumed it was a showroom straight out of a magazine.

Suddenly Chuuya felt really bad about calling Dazai out. He truly did like having Dazai in his apartment, as annoying as it was sometimes. Sure, it would be nice to have more space, but Chuuya was comfortable and content with his living situation. He’s sure that Dazai knew that too.

Chuuya handed Dazai’s phone back to him, gulping down the small lump in his throat. It pained Chuuya to learn how isolated Dazai felt before they met, before Dazai got involved in the movie industry, before Dazai opened up.

“You can stay here for as long as you want, you know that, right?” Chuuya asked sheepishly.

Dazai nodded, smiling wider and avoiding eye contact.

Chuuya coughed awkwardly, trying to clear the tension. It was nice that they could understand each other without words, especially during tough conversations like these, but sometimes it over complicated things. Chuuya shifted so that his guitar was once again resting on his thigh.

“Can I play you something different?” He asked.

“Of course,” Dazai replied.



A week and a half later, Dazai and Chuuya went on their first proper date in over a month. They decided on something simple: dinner and a movie. This also marked the first time they had been seen in public together since coming back to L.A. As with everything about their relationship, their interactions were highly anticipated and bound to be exceedingly publicized.

Originally, Chuuya had suggested they heavily disguise themselves, but Dazai quickly disagreed.

“I’m tired of hiding,” Dazai said during the discussion, “I’m tired of people spreading rumors and lies. I’m not ashamed of our relationship, and I want to defend what we have.”

To which Chuuya quickly agreed with.

Even though they were ready for the worst, nothing could have prepared them for the harassment of the paparazzi. Thankfully a car was able to pick them up and drop them off at the restaurant, but after dinner, the brief walk to the movie theater was hell.

“Nakahara, how does it feel to be a rebound? Do you resent Oda Sakunosuke?”

“Is it true that you two will be breaking up soon?”

“Dazai, any comment on where you’ve been hiding for the past month?”

“Nakahara, Dazai, care to address the rumors that everything has been a lie?”

“Dazai, what is the status of Stray Dogs? Will this postpone the release?”

“Nakahara, how do you feel that Dazai doesn’t love you?”

“Why the excessive amount of bandages today, Dazai?”

Chuuya about had enough.

Throughout the walk Dazai and Chuuya remained completely silent, hands intertwined, and looking forward. But as the questions and comments became more aggressive, Chuuya’s grip on Dazai’s hand tightened. Dazai tried to wordlessly soothe Chuuya by rubbing his thumb over Chuuya’s hand, but it wasn’t enough to stop Chuuya from exploding. Once the questions started to deviate towards Dazai’s mental health, that’s when Chuuya drew the fucking line.

Chuuya spun on his heel so he was facing all the cameras and all the snobby journalists. He was livid. Some of the people closest to Chuuya even took half a step back in fear of what the rock singer would do to them.

“Fuck off,” he snarled.

Chuuya then faced back to towards Dazai, his eyes instantly softening a little bit at how bewildered Dazai was. Wasting no time, Chuuya reached forward with one hand, fisted Dazai’s shirt collar, and yanked him down so that Chuuya could draw Dazai in to a passionate kiss. All the while, Chuuya’s other hand was extended towards the cameras with his middle finger raised as a giant fuck you.

When they parted, Dazai was breathless, his eyes sparkling darkly. No one was ever fucking messing with Dazai, especially as long as Chuuya was around.

“Write that in your fucking columns,” Chuuya spat with a dangerous smirk.

Chuuya was well aware no one could quote him swearing or publish a photo of him flipping them off. It was perfect. To add insult to injury, Dazai and Chuuya once again intertwined their hands and walked in the direction of the move theater, continuing a so far, uneventful and pleasant date.




watch stray dogs in november @no1ongerhuman – 2 mo

umm i’m sorry is this real???? did chuuya just do THAT????

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nic (ノ˘ヮ˘)ノ*:・゚✧ @zodiachuuya – 2 mo

this is the best concept!!!





double black is back @kingofchuuya – 2 mo

all jokes aside I’m super happy to see dazai and chuuya together again. I can’t even imagine what they were going through but they are clearly very happy together.



Jazz was hard. Chuuya soon realized that there were so many nuances of jazz and so many technicalities, but also a huge emphasis on freestyle. He wanted to do the genre justice, but also still true to his roots. This was, after all, still a rock album. It was Chuuya’s take on jazz music. Finding that fine line was proving to be incredibly challenging.

Sometimes Chuuya would just browse through YouTube, watching video after video trying to garner some sort of inspiration or figure out where he was going wrong. Even Dazai seemed committed to helping Chuuya work this out. Oftentimes, Dazai would join and point out things Chuuya had missed.

They were lounging around on the couch. Dazai’s back pressed up against the armrest, his legs spread out in front of him so Chuuya could easily slot himself between. Chuuya was holding up Dazai’s phone, the two scrolling though different videos while Dazai’s arms were wrapped around Chuuya’s stomach and he watched over Chuuya’s shoulder.

After the current video ended, Chuuya scrolled down to see what was recommended. He paused, his finger hovering over a fan-recording of him singing Rain Beat live. What was even more startling was that the red bar at the bottom of the thumbnail was completely filled, indicating Dazai had watched it.

Chuuya clicked on the video. Whoever was recording had started the moment Chuuya had announced he was going to sing Sea of Stars, only to be met with silence and disappointment. As the video went on, Chuuya was taken aback by how vulnerable he was on stage.

He had no idea he closed his eyes, feeling the music, probably thinking about Dazai. He had no idea that his voice shook a little bit during some of the higher notes. He had no idea how in love he looked. Fuck. No wonder his bandmates complimented him afterwards.

When that video ended, Chuuya turned so he could look at Dazai.

“I can’t believe you actually watched that,” Chuuya said, disbelief clear in his voice.

Dazai rolled his eyes playfully. “Chuuya really missed my very obvious flirting then. After that video I realized I loved you.”

Chuuya stared at Dazai. “Really?”

Dazai nodded. “It did take me longer to admit that it was okay to love you, and well, tell you properly.”

“I still don’t think you did that properly.”

“I tried,” Dazai whined in protest. “I was going to on the Ferris Wheel!”

“And you fucked that up too.”

Chuuya pretended that his heart didn’t actually skip a beat when Dazai confirmed what he had been suspecting since Yosano’s interview. Dazai was actually serious about that. Not that Chuuya hadn’t believed Dazai.

He was just taken aback considering the circumstances of that spring of the moment trip. Dazai, who had a plan for everything and ideas for every which way something could end, seemed to be completely running off his impulses that day. Which meant that Dazai might have been planning on confessing to Chuuya just simply based on his emotions and the situation in front of him.

Through all the hiccups along the way, the pain, the misunderstandings, and the blatant sabotage, Dazai’s feelings had apparently always been genuine. Chuuya bit back a smile.

Too bad Dazai always had to ruin Chuuya’s contemplative moments when he was willing to admit he loved Dazai, by opening his stupid mouth.

“Nonetheless, Chuuya’s in my lap now so who’s the real winner~”

“Bitch, this isn’t a competition. This is literally a mutual thing.”

“I suppose.” Dazai paused, thinking. “But if this was a competition, I still think I would win. I loved Chuuya first, after all.”

“You-” Chuuya exclaimed, only to be cut off by Dazai’s laugh.



Things Chuuya absolutely hates: when Dazai calls him “Chibi” and when Dazai uses him as an armrest. Things Chuuya absolutely loves: when Dazai uses his stupidly tall height to box Chuuya in when they’re kissing. Case in point, right now.

Chuuya is lying flat on his bed with Dazai hovering over him. Dazai’s forearms are resting near Chuuya’s head, his hands tangled in Chuuya’s hair. Every time Dazai does this, Chuuya absolutely melts. He loves feeling safe in Dazai’s arms, and when Dazai closes him in like this, it’s like they’re the only two people in the world.

Dazai kisses Chuuya slowly, taking his time exploring Chuuya’s mouth. Not that Chuuya minds the pace. If anything, Chuuya prefers whenever he can take his sweet time showing Dazai just how beautiful and loved he is. At this rate, Chuuya can slowly run his hands up and down Dazai’s chest and torso, committing every inch to memory.

Chuuya isn’t sure how long they’ve been kissing like this. It could have been days for all he’s sure, with his eyes closed and head swimming from the taste of Dazai. He would never admit it to Dazai, but he’s easily the best kisser Chuuya’s ever been with. Everything, even down to the intoxicating smacking of their lips, drove Chuuya wild.

Which is why Chuuya whimpered a little bit when Dazai began to pull away. He tried to chase after Dazai’s lips, pulling him back down, but Dazai just chuckled and pressed a hand against Chuuya’s chest, pushing him flat on the mattress.

“Easy there, tiger,” Dazai said with a chuckle.

Chuuya huffed at the stupid nickname. He could practically feel how bright red both his lips and his cheeks were.

“Why are you teasing me right now?” Chuuya asked. “You were doing so well.”

“Oho~” Dazai replied with a glint in his eyes.

“Dazai,” Chuuya practically moaned. He once again tried to lean forward to capture Dazai’s lips back in a kiss before Dazai stopped him.

“I want to show you something,” Dazai insisted.

“I swear to everything good and holy in this world if you put a tiny hat on your dick or something stupid like that,” Chuuya said, throwing an arm over his eyes already imagining the horror.

Dazai laughed above him. “Nothing obscene like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Chuuya felt Dazai shift off of the bed. With his eyes still covered, Chuuya could only hear Dazai moving around the room. He could make out the telltale sound of a phone being plugged in and then Dazai began to tap away for a bit.

A few seconds later, Dazai clicked the phone off and then crawled back on top of Chuuya. Finally, Dazai easily fell back into a steady rhythm of kissing Chuuya. Chuuya sighed into the deepening kiss. Except something was slightly different...

Instead of the near silence in the room, there was a melodic tune playing, lulling Chuuya to time his movements with that of the song. And speaking of a song, was that Still Still Still? This time it was Chuuya’s turn to pull away from Dazai.

“Seriously?” Chuuya asked playfully, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“What you don’t like it?” Dazai shot back. “I thought I would make a playlist for Chuuya.”

“When I think of mood music, I don’t think of our cheesy love song,” Chuuya retorted.

“Eh?” Dazai asked, voice high and quirking his eyebrow. “What could be more seductive than my voice and Chuuya’s voice?”

As if on cue, the song hit a point where Dazai and Chuuya were singing together as one. Chuuya sighed, exasperated as he watched Dazai listen intently.

“You sound pitchy, are you pitchy?” Dazai teased.

“Oi,” Chuuya exclaimed, smacking Dazai in the chest. “Get off of me and change the damn song. I don’t want to listen to myself while making out.”

“So demanding,” Dazai whined.

However, that didn’t stop Dazai from obeying Chuuya’s request. Again, Dazai crawled off the bed and made his way over to the makeshift speaker. Dazai picked up the phone and skipped to the next song.

A different tune began to play. The soft melody of a piano began to fill the room, setting a far more appropriate tone. Although Chuuya couldn’t place where he had heard these opening notes, it felt familiar. Satisfied with himself, Dazai began to make his way back over to Chuuya.

And then the singer began to sing the first verse.

“Dazai, what the fuck?” Chuuya said, half laughing, half annoyed. He held up his hand, stopping Dazai in his tracks.

“What?” Dazai asked innocently. “You said you didn’t want to listen to yourself. This isn’t you.”

“Idiot, I don’t want to listen to you either.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! You had no problem listening to me a few minutes ago.”

“Change it or I’m not letting you anywhere near me.”

Dazai grumbled but did what he was told. He moved back over to the phone for the third time and skipped to the next song. A different melody began to play, this time starting with an acoustic guitar. But Chuuya knew this song immediately.

“Seriously?” Chuuya asked. “Is this whole playlist just of you singing?”

“I thought Chuuya would like listening to me sing,” Dazai replied with a shrug.

“No, you egotistical bastard.”

Dazai pouted.

“Don’t do that,” Chuuya said with a light laugh. “If you turn it off, you can come back.”

Dazai seemed conflicted. He eyed Chuuya longingly but then glanced back to his phone. The chorus of the most recent song Dazai chose began to play, which, for some reason beyond Chuuya’s comprehension, captivated Dazai more than Chuuya himself.

“Are you kidding me?” Chuuya asked, sitting up. “Is this seriously a tough decision for you?”

“I won a Grammy for this song!”

“Dazai, I am willingly waiting here to have sex with you,” Chuuya deadpanned.


“I can’t believe this.”

“Just one song?” Dazai pleaded.

Chuuya raised his eyebrow challengingly. “If this song finishes, you are sleeping on the couch.”


Needless to say, Dazai did not sleep on the couch that night. After Chuuya was done with him, Dazai was far too limp to do anything more than cling on to Chuuya lifelessly when they fell asleep.



Chuuya had been to a lot of red carpets throughout his life. His first experience was when he was a little older than fifteen, after he had debuted, and was asked to be a guest at some event. Actually, the first time Chuuya had met Dazai in person was on a red carpet a couple months after that. That had also been the first scandal they had been through together, Chuuya nearly knocking Dazai’s front teeth out. 

He had been all over the world for red carpets. Tokyo, Beijing, Shanghai, Seoul, Paris, London, New York, Los Angeles. Chuuya thought he had this whole red carpet shtick down. Apparently, movie premieres were a completely different ball game.

Chuuya was totally out of his element. There were so many people here, far more than at something music related, it almost felt claustrophobic. And the energy was so different. There was excitement, obviously, but also a high degree of tension. It might be because this was the first showing of Stray Dogs, and all of their work would either be validated or discredited in a matter of hours. Or, perhaps, this was normal.

Either way, it made Chuuya cling close to Dazai all throughout the preliminary press talks. Chuuya’s fingers were intertwined with Dazai’s as they walked where they were directed. It also felt weird to not be the center of attention. All of the questions were directed to Dazai because he had all the answers. Chuuya was just the supportive partner.

“You both look great,” one reporter said as Chuuya and Dazai made their way over to him.

Dazai smiled, pressing a big kiss to Chuuya’s cheek. Chuuya scowled. He fucking hated it when Dazai made big scenes. (How hypocritical of him, really.)

“Isn’t he?” Dazai asked, excited. “I even got Chuuya to forgo his usual hat and choker today.”

Chuuya tsked, “Tch, as if. I did not do it for you, idiot. This is the only leg of the movie tour I’m going on, so I thought it would be special to get dressed up.”

“Sure, sure~”

Chuuya was wearing a cream colored three-piece suit. Like Dazai said, he had foregone his usual accessories. Instead, Chuuya’s hair was more windswept, his bangs falling in front of his eyes and curls looser. He was also wearing a loosely tied purple bow tie to offset the suit’s color.

Dazai, on the other hand, was wearing a deep brown two-piece suit, green striped waistcoat, and matching brown tie. Chuuya was actually the one to tell Dazai to leave the suit unbuttoned, even though it was untraditional to do so when walking and standing, but the color really brought out his eyes, and Chuuya was a sucker for Dazai’s eyes.

Chuuya huffed and nudged Dazai to move on.

“Ah, but thank you,” Dazai said with an easy smile.

“So, Dazai, how does it feel to have completed your first movie?” The reporter asked.

“It still feels like a whirlwind.” Dazai responded. “I’m very excited to see it on the big screen.”

“Have you not seen it yet?”

Dazai shook his head no. “Not fully edited, no, but I have seen bits and pieces. Chuuya hasn’t seen anything though.”

The reporter glanced to Chuuya.

Chuuya nodded. “I only know what everyone else knows. Dazai won’t tell me sh-” Chuuya stopped himself from swearing, covering it up with a slight cough. Dazai just eyed him knowingly. “-Anything.”

“Really? Well do you have any hopes or expectations, Nakahara?” The reporter asked.

Chuuya’s eyes slid over to Dazai. Dazai was also looking at him curiously, he seemed genuinely interested in what Chuuya had to say. Chuuya squeezed Dazai’s hand subtly before speaking.

“I don’t have any theories or anything like that,” Chuuya replied, much to Dazai’s fond eyeroll. “But, like with everything relating to Dazai, I’m sure it’s going to be amazing. Actually, I’ve never quite understood why everyone is looking down on this project just because Dazai is the lead? I have never seen Dazai undertake a project which he didn’t think would be successful. Once he finds something he’s passionate about, he perfects his craft and thinks of every possible way to-”

Chuuya cut himself off when he noticed that Dazai’s eyes were shining back at him. It was rare for Chuuya to compliment Dazai so openly. Especially in public. But Chuuya had been reading a lot of articles leading up to Stray Dog’s movie premiere, unbeknownst to Dazai.

There seemed to be quite a few speculations on if Dazai was the right fit for the role. Comments like he wasn’t professional enough, all he knew how to do was sing and look pretty, and how the movie was most likely going to flop. Chuuya had just about had enough. He had seen how hard Dazai pushed himself, how committed Dazai was. So while Chuuya hadn’t seen the movie yet, he knew that it would speak for itself.

Still. He wasn’t about to risk his reputation just to stick up for fucking Dazai. Chuuya looked back at the reporter.

“Is this live?” He asked. “I want to change my answer to a simple shrug.”

“Sorry, Nakahara, we are live.”

Chuuya muttered under his breath, trying to drag Dazai away. Dazai, however, remained firmly planted, side-eyeing Chuuya, the faint shadow of a smirk on his face.

“One more question, Dazai?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Care to comment on your relationship with Oda Sakunosuke?”

Dazai’s eyes immediately hardened. Despite his tense composure, he replied calmly, “I have said all I ever will on the matter. Thank you for your time.”

This time it was Dazai to pull Chuuya away, making their way down the red carpet. Each interview followed a similar pattern. Most questions were directed towards Dazai, Chuuya would nod at Dazai’s comments or laugh at his jokes, and then there was always a question about Oda. The interviews never went past that point.

Dazai continued to say the same thing: “I have said all I ever will on the matter. Thank you for your time.” Without another word, Dazai would lead Chuuya away. Chuuya didn’t question it, nor find Dazai’s silent plea of leaving out of line. If anything, Chuuya thought it was the most professional way to say ‘fuck you’ without causing a scene he had ever seen.




The actual movie, in Chuuya’s humbled and unbiased opinion, was fucking phenomenal. As far as dramatic movies went, they really weren’t Chuuya’s genre of choice. He always thought it was so clear who was “black” and who was “white,” making it painfully obvious who was going to win at the end of the movie.

But with Stray Dogs? There was no one character Chuuya could say he outright loved or hated. Atsushi’s character, Oto Kumata, was loveable, but he was also incredibly blindsided by justice that he would sometimes ignore some of the ugly things about his personality. Akutagawa’s character, Hideo Higahi, was rough on the outside, constantly ready to fight and prove himself, but underneath all the walls he built, there were deeply seeded insecurities.  

Even Shuuji Tsushima, for as awful and manipulative as he was, there was still a part of Chuuya that was rooting for him all the way until the end. Whenever he was on screen, no matter if it looked grim, there was comfort that Shuuji knew what he was doing and that he planned for everything thrown at him. Even as he descended into madness, there was something so incredibly human about him.

No one could have played Shuuji better than Dazai.

At its core, Stray Dogs was a story about the battle between what was right and wrong, how that compared to what was morally just and unjust, and how, in the end, none of that mattered when it came down to society. Each of the characters, Shuuji, Oto, and Hideo embodied the struggle of doing what they believed was best.

Oto was the youngest of the three. Even if their ages were never explicitly said, Chuuya could tell just by looking at his eyes. Oto’s eyes were wide, full of life and hope. He wanted to be helpful, to make sure that people were safe. There was a reason he believed so much in the agency he worked at.

Hideo was intense. His personality was quite standoffish, quite fitting for someone who had grown up in the mafia his whole lie. There was an edge to him that he was tired of those around him taking advantage of him, and he wanted to take everything into his own hands.

Shuuji was the mastermind behind it all. The champion of the chess game, the bored genius, the mafia boss who had once been in the center of the light himself but shrouded away after his friend died. While Oto reveled in the light and Hideo hid among the shadows, Shuuji understood what it was like to live in both sides of the spectrum. Chuuya was absolutely mesmerized.

There were times when it looked like Shuuji was a dead man walking. His eyes never had any light behind them, just dead-eyed sockets, following only what was necessary. His stance was incredibly stiff, shoulders straight, and demeanor demanding. However, when the doors closed, that all went away. Shuuji was also lazy, his bones looking like they weighed a ton, and his mental sanity clearly deteriorating as the movie went on.

The only time Shuuji ever looked happy was during one scene when he shot a suffering man to, “free him from his misery.” One shot turned into two, which turned into five, until Shuuji was smiling like a madman, a laugh bubbling out of his lips, shooting unbothered. His eyes were wide, watching as the corpse twitched, blood painting his own cheeks red. Shuuji only stopped when ran out of ammo, tossing the now useless gun on top of the dead man’s body. With a blink of his eyes, Shuuji returned to his normal-stoic self, even wiping the blood off as if it was nothing more than a spec of dirt.

There were a couple times Chuuya blinked a little too forcefully, not believing what he was watching, his mouth parting involuntarily. That shooting scene was one of them. Some others included when Shuuji slapped Hideo across the face, the first time he raised his voice, and when Shuuji unraveled his bandages to show what was beneath them.

Chuuya had known that the self-harm was coming at some point, but the subtly in execution sent chills down his spine. Sometimes Shuuji would be smoking cigarettes with no ashtrays around, but when a new character entered the same scene, the cigarette would be long extinguished. There was one time when Shuuji was in a room reserved for interrogation, the camera’s angle only showing what was visible under the door’s crack. Blood dripped down, Shuuji’s laugh faint, but when the door opened, signaling Shuuji’s exit, there was no one visible.

Finally seeing the circular burn marks and a mixture of thick and thin slashes all over Shuuji’s pale skin was haunting. All the pieces were put together.

Chuuya reached out for Dazai’s hand. Dazai easily interlaced their fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Chuuya’s hand. This was Dazai right next to him. Not Shuuji, not that monster he was able to turn into. The physical reminder eased Chuuya.

The entire movie felt like a cat-and-mouse game. Oto wanted to find Shuuji and arrest him for the greater good of the city, while Hideo wanted to take Shuuji out for personal reasons. Even when working alone or separately, they were always just out of reach. Shuuji reveled in it.

And when either of them did manage to corner Shuuji, it never ended well.

There was one point where Hideo was able to catch Shuuji walking out of a meeting, and he placed a sharp blade against Shuuji’s neck. Shuuji just smiled and tilted his head so the tip of the knife dug into his skin, blood dripping down and coating his bandages.

“Are you going to kill me, Hideo-kun?” The tone of words didn’t even sound human.

Hideo dropped the knife as if he had burned. Shuuji tsked and walked away as if nothing happened. Disappointed? Perhaps. But none of that mattered to Shuuji.

In the end, it was all for naught. Shuuji had gotten what he wanted. He was standing on the edge of one of the tallest buildings in the city, looking down, wind blowing the bandages around his eye loose.

Hideo and Oto were both there, stunned by the turn of events. Somehow, even facing death, Shuuji had the upper hand. Shuuji turned around on his heel, facing both of the younger men.

“Law, personal gain, none of it matters,” Shuuji yelled over the wind. “What matters is them.” Shuuji motioned beneath him. Towards all the unsuspecting people milling throughout the streets.

Shuuji continued, “When they’re happy, none of it matters. Our lives, our business, they don’t care. They don’t want to see my head on a skewer because they don’t know who I am. They don’t know what I do for them or what I take from them.”

“That’s not true,” Oto exclaimed. “The amount of illegal activities you’ve extorted is unfair to everyone else who has to live life abiding by the rules!”

“Is that so?” Shuuji asked, eyes wide, but nothing behind them. “Then tell me, Oto-kun, how are you any different than me? You’ve killed, that’s a capital degree punishment, why haven’t you paid the price?”

Oto took a half step backwards, stunned by Shuuji’s words. “How-”

“It’s because no one knows, yes? Because you’re helping them, so they don’t care. Their lives still go on, happy, blissful, while we scavenge like stray dogs in the night.”

Hideo watched Oto’s retreating frame carefully after Shuuji’s declaration. Almost as if he was trying to figure out if that was the truth. But Shuuji wasn’t done.

“Hideo-kun, if I had to pick, you were always my least favorite subordinate,” Shuuji sneered. “You never know your worth, always trying to prove it to me, even though I accepted you years ago. Yet through all of this pointlessness, you still have a reason to live.”

Shuuji looked beneath him once more. For the first time his eyes softened, he looked content in the outcome about to unfold.

“I realize now that I am no longer fit to lead. I have lost sight of the importance of them, and to go on would be unfair.

“If I may, I am going to take a page out of your books. I am going to be selfish, just this once. My story is done, and you two will be the only ones who remember how it ends. Create a new balance.”

Shuuji shed off his coat and threw his gloves on top of the pile of clothes. The bandages which once used to cover his eye unraveled completely. He looked at Oto and Hideo with both of his eyes, smiling. Finally, Shuuji closed his eyes, falling back until he was no longer visible from the camera’s view.

There was no thud against the ground, no screaming, no sirens, nothing. It was as if Shuuji Tsushima never existed. Instead, people continued to live, continued to walk past the street beneath Oto and Hideo.

Chuuya was practically shaking when Shuuji fell off the building. He was reminded of when he saw Dazai, cold and broken on top of the bar. Dazai, his real and alive Dazai, wrapped one arm around Chuuya’s shoulders. Chuuya snuggled close to Dazai, free to be vulnerable inside such a dark theater.

The final scene of the movie opened with Oto, now wearing Shuuji’s gloves, walking into work. He was back in his office, except there was one major change. Instead of sitting in a cubicle, he had his own office with the name plaque ‘Director Oto Kumata’ on the outside.

Hideo Higahi, on the other hand, was leaving his new job. The familiar redwood doors opening and closing an indicator that he was now the boss of the mafia, taking over Shuuji’s old office. Hideo was wearing Shuuji’s long black jacket. It fit him perfectly.

The movie ended the same way it began, focusing on strangers going about their day. Shuuji was right. Moralities, personal grudges, none of it mattered. As long Oto and Hideo worked together to protect their city, both of their purposes were fulfilled.

Instead of fading to black, the picture faded to gray, ending credits beginning to scroll.

Everyone in the theater burst into applause. Chuuya clapped slowly, barely registering what was going on around him because mind was whirling at a thousand thoughts per second. He had no idea if he was satisfied or not. Everything was so muddled. Even Oto’s white hair was tainted with a strand of black, Hideo’s black hair was dipped with white at the ends.

Nothing was ever going to be one shade of color, after all. No ending was going to feel right.

Chuuya had no idea that he had cried at some point throughout the movie. It was only when Dazai reached over to wipe away his tears that Chuuya noticed he was still crying. Chuuya felt fucking drained. Dazai just smiled sympathetically, leaving Chuuya to wonder how the hell he did this for months.



Chuuya felt his phone buzz insistently against his face. He ignored it once, assuming it was something unimportant. This was the first time Chuuya been able to talk to Dazai since he left for Stray Dog’s movie premieres and he wanted to savor their time together. Dazai had a red carpet basically every night this week, and if he wasn’t doing that, he was traveling. Chuuya had no idea that this short amount of time apart would make him long for Dazai this much. He blamed the sex.

But the second time he felt his phone ringing, Chuuya actually took time to read the caller ID. Chuuya's eyes widened in realization that he had to take this. What unfortunate time, really.

“Ah, Dazai,” Chuuya said breathlessly, “Kouyou-nee is calling on the other line.”

Dazai moaned over the phone. “Let it go to voicemail.”

“Dazai,” Chuuya weakly protested.

“Chuuya,” Dazai purred back.

Kouyou’s call was once again sent to voicemail. Chuuya groaned, Kouyou was going to assume something was wrong if he didn’t answer a third time. He needed to call her back before she did something hasty like come to his apartment. That wouldn’t end well for anyone.

Even though Chuuya was a consenting adult in a committed relationship, the last thing he needed was for his manager – someone he viewed as an older sister, might he add – to find him writhing around on his bed, hot and bothered by a voice on the other line of a cell phone.

Speaking of. Chuuya opened his camera and snapped a picture of the front half of his body, purposely making sure to crop out anything that could get him in trouble. Chuuya’s entire body was flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistened in the light. Chuuya’s cheeks were crimson. His lips were red, puffy, and aching, especially since he was constantly biting his lower lip. In fact, he was still biting his lower lip without consciously registering it. This should keep Dazai entertained for bit. He sent the photo.

“Give me two minutes,” Chuuya said, trying to regain his composure. “If you come, I won’t talk to you for the rest of the weekend.”

Chuuya then hung up the phone to Dazai’s whining. He switched lines, calling Kouyou back.

“Lad,” Kouyou answered, unamused.

“Sorry, Ane-san,” Chuuya immediately apologized. “What’s up?”

“Are you busy working?”

“You could say that, sure.”

“Well, I’m glad you and Dazai-kun worked things through.”

Somehow, impossibly somehow, Chuuya’s face got even more red. He sputtered, to which Kouyou just snickered.

“Can we make this quick?” Chuuya huffed.

Kouyou laughed lightly before diving into what she called Chuuya to discuss. It was mostly album preparation, carving out days which were going to be dedicated for recording and other miscellaneous meetings. Talk about a mood killer.

Chuuya curled and uncurled his toes restlessly. All he wanted to do was hear Dazai’s sinful voice again. Kouyou was saying something about contracting musicians, but it just sounded like white noise. Instead what was running through Chuuya’s mind was the feeling of Dazai’s hot breath against his neck, the sound of Dazai’s whispered praises and quiet moans, the taste of his lips.

It was starting to get hard to listen to Kouyou. Chuuya was getting antsy, missing Dazai more and more as this conversation took longer than anticipated. Perhaps Kouyou could sense that whatever she was saying was falling on deaf ears.

“One more thing,” Kouyou said. “It’s about Dazai-kun.”

That caught Chuuya’s attention.


“Kunikida contacted me over Dazai-kun’s official statement on Oda Sakunosuke.” Kouyou explained, “He maintains that he does not want to comment any further on the matter. However, Dazai-kun also wants to add that he’s secure enough in his relationship with you that he doesn’t feel the need to continue bringing up the past.”

Chuuya’s eyes snapped open. His vision cleared, but only momentarily, until his eyes glazed over even more, the only thing running through his mind was Dazai. Heat immediately pooled to the pit of his stomach.

Chuuya was going to get a fucking headache from how much blood kept circulating drastically through his system. How he was still hard was beyond him. Dazai should give him an award for this.

“He didn’t tell me that,” Chuuya blurted out.

Chuuya could practically hear Kouyou shaking her head over the line. “If he ever hurts you again, let me know.”

Without even saying goodbye, Kouyou hung up. Chuuya felt a little bad by how relieved he was that Kouyou was off the other line. Only a little bit. He quickly called Dazai back.

Dazai answered before the first ring even went through. “Chuuya’s late,” he gasped.

“Bastard, that was five minutes,” Chuuya groaned, this time more out of annoyance rather than arousal. “Don’t tell me you came?”

“No,” Dazai whined. Chuuya could hear Dazai shuffle around on the other line. Probably readjusting. “But Chuuya made it so difficult with that picture~”

“Oh, is that so?” Chuuya teased. “Did you touch yourself thinking about me being underneath you?”

“Mean,” Dazai replied, clearly strained, “Chuuya is mean for not letting us videocall.”

“Tell you what,” Chuuya said, feeling generous. “If you can get me to come first, we can videocall this weekend. However, if you come first, you can tell me about how secure you feel in our relationship.”

Dazai just whimpered.



[Mackerel]: hey

[Mackerel]: hey

[Mackerel]: hey chuuya

[Mackerel]: chuuuuuuya

[Mackerel]: chuuya this is so important

[Mackerel]: hey

[Mackerel]: hey

[Mackerel]: guess what!!!!!!


[Me]: Oh my fucking god what


[Mackerel]: i love u


[Mackerel]: chuuya?

[Mackerel]: is chuuya blushing~


[Me]: I hate you


[Mackerel]: i miss u





There was really only one positive to Dazai being gone for press coverage. It wasn’t that Chuuya had alone time, or only had to worry about cooking for one person, or hell, even having more room in bed. If Chuuya were being honest with himself, he actually enjoyed those parts of his relationship the most. No, it was that he could finally invite Black Lizard over to rehearse.

Part of the reason Chuuya was hesitant on inviting his bandmates over in the first place was because he didn’t know how Dazai would react. Chuuya wanted to be there for Dazai first and foremost. Leaving to work on something he could very much do on his own didn’t really appeal to Chuuya. But, with Dazai gone, it meant more talented musicians to help work out the kinks in some of the music.

And, boy, was this going to be a tough couple of recording sessions. Already just looking at the sheet music, Chuuya could feel a headache forming. They were going to have to commission trumpeters, saxophonists, violinists, and probably a strew of other classical instruments that Kouyou and Mori would see fit.

“This is going to be hell,” Chuuya announced in the midst of everyone looking over one of the pieces.

Tachihara, Higuchi, and Gin all stared at him blankly.

“No offense Chuuya-san,” Tachihara said, “but nothing you’ve ever given us to play has been easy.”

“The fact that you’re acknowledging how tough this is going to be means that it’s going to be really hard,” Higuchi added.

Chuuya looked to Gin to see if what the rest of Black Lizard was overreacting or actually telling the truth. He could always count on her for being brutally honest and fair. Gin just shrugged her shoulders and nodded.

“They do have a point,” Gin said. “Honestly, I don’t know how you compose all this yourself.”

Higuchi and Tachihara nodded.

“Haitoku no Kodou was something else,” Higuchi said. “You said Dazai-san was your inspiration?”

“Yeah,” Chuuya replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassed.

It was Dazai’s stupid fucking idea anyway to compose a damn song. Chuuya should’ve never made it that personal, that raw. He should’ve made something more generic. He hadn’t even released the song yet and already Chuuya was getting nervous about the idea of performing live. Honestly, Chuuya doesn’t think he can.

The amount of heartbreak and longing in his voice would be incredibly difficult to recreate without some sort of emotion spilling out in the process. The last thing Chuuya wanted was to cry on stage, over Dazai of all people. Even if he did love Dazai a tiny bit, that would be so humiliating.

Chuuya let his fingers drift across the piano keys, playing an unknown melody. He really didn’t want to even talk about how much that song meant to him. After a few minutes of near silence, Chuuya suggested that they dive back into critiquing and editing.


Three hours and two pizzas later there was a knock at the door. Chuuya was especially confused because he wasn’t expecting anyone else to come over. Maybe it was Kouyou? They did call recently to talk about the progress of the full album, so perhaps she was here to see it in person. Chuuya had a lot of good updates.

“Come in,” Chuuya shouted over the guitar solo.

The door opened a lot more hesitantly than Chuuya anticipated. Low and behold the head that popped through was not an elegant face with striking pink hair, but a slightly ruffled looking Dazai holding a bouquet of half red, half pink camellias in his hand.

“Dazai,” Chuuya said stunned. He bolted out of his seat, standing up on impulse.

“Hi,” Dazai said lamely, waving his free hand.

“Hey,” Chuuya breathed out, a small smile quirking up the corners of his lips. It hadn’t even been three weeks and he had already missed Dazai more than he could’ve ever anticipated.

Tachihara cleared his throat, reminding Chuuya that there were other people in the room. Chuuya immediately felt his cheeks heat up.

“Uh,” Chuuya stammered. “You guys know Dazai. Dazai this is Michizou Tachihara, Ichiyou Higuchi, and Gin Akutagawa.” Chuuya pointed to each of his bandmates respectively.

Dazai directed another wave towards Black Lizard. “Nice to meet you, Higuchi-kun and Tachihara-kun,” he said. “Gin-chan, it’s nice to see you again.”

“You too, Dazai-san.”

“Do you just know everyone?” Tachihara hissed.

Gin just shrugged.

Chuuya turned to Dazai as Tachihara continued to pester Gin. “You’re back early.”

“I was actually always planning on coming back at this time,” Dazai replied. “I just wanted to surprise Chuuya.”

Chuuya reached out to run his nails up and down the sides of Dazai’s body. Dazai shivered, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

“Well, you ruined the surprise I had planned for when you got home,” Chuuya replied. “Consider it even, I suppose. A surprise for a surprise.”

“What, I don’t get it now?”

“No way, asshole,” Chuuya said, deceptively soft. “Now that you know about it, that defeats the entire purpose.”

“Can’t you make an exception?”

“For your dumb ass? No way in hell.”


Subconsciously, Dazai and Chuuya had both started to lean in closer to each other’s faces. Chuuya’s hands had settled, resting on Dazai’s hips. Dazai’s eyes kept flicking down to Chuuya’s lips, chapped from how much singing Chuuya had done today.

“What is happening?” Tachihara asked, clearly scandalized. “Are you two going to make out? What the fuck?”

Both Higuchi and Gin glared at Tachihara accusingly. Higuchi even reached out to slap his arm. Tachihara winced. Dazai just chuckled, settling on pressing a kiss to Chuuya’s temple.

“I’ll find something to eat while Chuuya wraps up.”

“Put those flowers in a vase, bastard,” Chuuya shouted out as Dazai walked, presumably, to the kitchen. Chuuya couldn’t help but smile over the fact that Dazai was eating on his own accord, with no coaxing on Chuuya’s end.

Chuuya then turned back to his bandmates and saw their faces displaying an array of emotions. Tachihara was mortified. Higuchi was swooning. Gin was blank, except for the fact that her eyebrows were raised curiously.

“What?” Chuuya asked confused.

“Chuuya-san,” Gin said, “How long have you and Dazai-san been dating?”

Chuuya tensed ever so slightly. He still hadn’t told anyone that their relationship for the first eight months was all a lie. “Ten-ish months,” Chuuya lied.

“And how long have you been working on this album?”

Chuuya breathed a small sigh of relief. Gin seemed to believe him. “Six-ish months.”

Gin just stared pointedly at Higuchi and Tachihara, the latter two groaning in pain.

“What?” Chuuya asked again, this time even more confused.

“I can’t believe this,” Tachihara exclaimed, baffled. “He doesn’t even see the correlation!”

“I’m not following,” Chuuya said.

“Clearly,” Tachihara said with a huff.

“Chuuya-san,” Higuchi said, “It’s just that ever since Dazai-san has been in your life, your musical ability has somehow gotten better, and your writing ability has gotten even more complex. We think he’s the indirect reason these songs are tough.”

Chuuya’s blinked dumbly at his bandmates. He was pretty sure his cheeks matched the color of his hair at this point.

Fuck, Dazai really had weaseled into his life more seamlessly than Chuuya initially thought. It’s just that, he really wanted to push himself as hard as Dazai was pushing him. Chuuya wanted to make Dazai, as well as himself, proud. And this entire album was a true testament to that, damn well something to be proud of.

Chuuya coughed, trying to hide how embarrassed he was. “Well, I think that’s enough hard work for today, don’t you guys think?”



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 1 mo

Two weeks...



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 1 mo

Oh I’m sorry is Dazai the only one who’s allowed to be dramatic and post announcements without any warning?


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 1 mo

Well then it’s a good think Dazai was the inspiration for my next song. Maybe I took one too many pages from his book?


Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 3 w




Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 2 w

Midnight tonight...



Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 2 w

IT’S FINALLY HERE! I put my absolute heart and soul into this song and I really hope you all enjoy. Thank you @nolongerhuman for being my muse.



listen to haitoku no kodou!! @nolongerhuman – 2 w

@taintedsorrow i’m so so so proud of you chuuya ヘ(= ̄∇ ̄)ノ this truly is a work of art! i wonder what else is to come~~


Chapter Text

osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 1 mo

someone pinch me i must be dreaming!! thank you to the academy for my first oscar nomination!!! ∩(︶▽︶)∩

see you all during awards season~


       Chuuya Nakahara @taintedsorrow – 1 mo

       @nolongerhuman Don’t pretend like you were the only one nominated


osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 1 mo

and finally (i didn’t forget chuuya stop glaring at me from across the table) HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to atsushi, akuatagwa, and the rest of the ‘stray dogs’ crew for our total 10 nominations!! it was an honor~ ( ・_・)♡



Chuuya never thought he would see the day when Dazai was actually nervous. Much like everything with Dazai, it was subtle. It was in the way that Dazai kept fumbling with the lapels of his jacket, the way he kept tucking, untucking, and re-tucking his hair behind his ear, and even the slight stiffness in his shoulders.

Chuuya himself, however, was as calm as ever. He was leaning against the entryway to their shared bedroom, arms crossed loosely, watching Dazai furiously fiddle with his appearance. From this angle, Dazai couldn’t see the fond smile on Chuuya’s face as he watched Dazai’s nervous ticks.

Finally, sensing that Dazai needed something to take his mind off the daunting award ceremony in a couple hours, Chuuya crossed the threshold of the bedroom. He made his way behind Dazai, easily wrapping his arms around Dazai’s waist and pressing his forehead between Dazai’s shoulder blades. Dazai seemed to instantly relax.

“Hey, handsome,” Chuuya breathed against Dazai’s back.

Dazai chuckled. He maneuvered his body so Chuuya could see over his shoulder and that they were both visible in the full-length mirror.

“You talking to yourself again?” Dazai teased.

“I could be,” Chuuya agreed. “Damn I look good.”

When Dazai first suggested the matching suits, Chuuya had thought it would be too tacky for his tastes. But looking at how well their inverse colors complemented each other, Chuuya is glad Dazai was able to convince him of the outfit choice.

Dazai and Chuuya were wearing identically cut three-piece suits. Almost everything, even their undershirts, were the same. The only stark difference was the color of the suits themselves and the ties each man was wearing.

Chuuya’s suit was maroon and his tie was navy. Predictably, Dazai’s was the opposite. His suit was navy and his tie was maroon. Originally, Dazai had explained it as a modern yin yang, corresponding to colors that represented them. Chuuya had thought it was cheesy, especially since they weren’t even Chinese, but looking at the finished result, he had to admit that Dazai had a knack for looking good.

While Chuuya had gone for his usual accessories, hat, choker, and gloves, Dazai had decided to switch things up a bit. Underneath Dazai’s suit was devoid of any bandages. There was no white peeking out from the sleeves or above the collar. Dazai looked positively radiant.

Dazai smiled at Chuuya through the mirror, as if sensing how pleased Chuuya was. Chuuya rolled his eyes fondly and pressed a light peck to Dazai’s cheek.

“You look presentable,” Chuuya said.

“What an honor,” Dazai purred, “To be hanging off the great Chuuya Nakahara’s arm as eye candy.”

Chuuya huffed. “Don’t get full of yourself. This is the first, and only time I might add, that I will allow you to walk next to me.”

“I better not disappoint you then.”

“Damn straight.”

“Hold that pose for one second,” Dazai said as he fished out his phone from inside the side pocket of his jacket.

Dazai quickly held up his phone to chest-level so that he could fit both his body and Chuuya’s body in the mirror shot. Chuuya tiled his head down so he could glance into the camera app’s viewfinder, watching as Dazai took a couple photos.

Once satisfied, Dazai scrolled through the shots and decided on the picture where both he and Chuuya had matching soft smiles. Even though Chuuya was pressed against Dazai’s side instead of behind him, Chuuya’s arms were still wrapped around Dazai’s waist protectively. While one of Dazai’s hands was holding the phone for the picture, the other was loosely resting on Chuuya’s hip possessively.

They looked good. Chuuya silently watched as Dazai moved over to Twitter and tweeted the most recent picture they took. Chuuya snorted at the caption but didn’t stop Dazai from hitting post. The second after Dazai hit tweet, Chuuya felt a buzz in his pocket alerting him of Dazai’s tweet.

“Do you have post notifications turned on for me?” Dazai teased, pocketing his phone and nuzzling his face against Chuuya’s ear. His breath was warm and comforting.

“How do you know that wasn’t simply because I’m tagged in the tweet?”

“You’re not outwardly denying it either.”

“Weird,” Chuuya replied, turning his head to the side and gently knocking Dazai’s head off of his shoulder. “Get off of me, you damn leach.”

Dazai whined but nonetheless extracted his body from resting over Chuuya’s. He stood up to his full height and quickly fixed both his suit and Chuuya’s from the wrinkles briefly forming.

“How are you feeling?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai shrugged his shoulders in indifference. “I mean the outcome has already been decided. Nothing I do at this point matters. I either win or become another fleeting candidate.”

“Alright, drama queen,” Chuuya huffed. “It’s clear that you don’t care.”

Dazai just smiled weakly at Chuuya. Chuuya held Dazai's hands and squeezed them comfortingly. They didn’t need to say anything more. On a purely technical standard, Dazai was right. There was no more he could do than what he has already put into the movie. But, from Chuuya’s perspective, that was more than enough.

Stray Dogs was truly one of its kind. Chuuya had never felt more stunned and thrilled while watching a movie. Concerning Dazai’s performance? Chuuya didn’t even think it was the same person in front of him on the screen.




osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 16h

couple goals ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ





“Nakahara, congratulations on the success of Haitoku no Kodou,” the reporter said, adjusting so her microphone was now hovering beneath him.

Chuuya cringed internally at her rough pronunciation of the Japanese phrase but chose not to correct her. “Thank you,” he instead replied. “But, I’m just here to support Dazai tonight.”

Dazai rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t be so modest. That song was a masterpiece. One of your best anthems.”

“Stop trying to divert the attention off of yourself, bastard,” Chuuya said with a huff.

Dazai laughed nervously and looped his arm around Chuuya’s neck, pulling Chuuya close to his body. “Can’t I be proud of you?”

“You’re only proud because I wrote that song about you.”

Dazai beamed into the camera before turning towards the reporter. “Isn’t he an enigma?” Dazai asked, overly sweet. “Chuuya acts so tough on the outside but he has such a big heart.”

“Oi!” Chuuya warned, trying to extract himself from Dazai’s side.

“Don’t deny it! We all know that you’re very loyal to me~”

The reporter was watching all of this in abject horror. Her lips were slightly parted, eyes flicking between the half-argument half-flirting conversation in front of her. Chuuya tried to smile weakly at her, wordlessly apologizing for Dazai’s antics, and begging she try and refocus the interview.

“Dazai,” the reporter said suddenly, catching Dazai’s attention in the process. “How are you feeling about tonight? Your performance as Shuuji Tsushima was phenomenal.”

“Ah, thank you,” Dazai replied, overjoyed. “I’m sure everyone you’ve talked to so far has said this, but it truly is an honor to be nominated. This is my first big role and to stand amongst those who I, myself, have looked up to is reward enough.”

Chuuya smiled politely next to Dazai. The reporter had a couple more questions to ask Dazai, and Chuuya continued to smile and nod when he agreed with something. It was so weird to see Dazai in front of cameras again. After getting to know Dazai so deeply, and especially understand how his ambitions drove him, it was surreal to see Dazai play that part everyone wanted him to be.

Next to Chuuya was Dazai, the beloved popstar turned into humbled actor. It was Dazai, someone who wasn’t allowed to talk about his past and his own mental health. This was the perfect genius who didn’t know what it felt like fail. Dazai really had been acting his entire life.

All of those things couldn’t be further from the truth. So, Chuuya stared at Dazai, taking in all of his beautiful qualities which he was trying to cover up with a mask.

As they were wrapping up, the reporter pointed hesitantly to Dazai’s hand, still hovering over Chuuya’s chest. Both Dazai and Chuuya glanced to what she was referencing. Chuuya chuckled and held up his hand in line with Dazai’s, both showing off their black painted fingernails.

“We’re Double Black, right?” Chuuya teased.

Dazai had a matching smirk as he spoke, “We only thought it would be fitting to make a big statement.”




Chuuya takes back everything he said about not being nervous. Sitting inside the amphitheater, hearing speech after speech and joke after joke, he was fucking terrified. Although for some reason beyond Chuuya’s comprehension, Dazai was now calmer and more collected than ever. He was laughing easily at jokes, clapping politely when awards were given out and during acceptance speeches, and even making casual conversation to those around him.

Meanwhile Chuuya was a nervous wreck. He kept reaching out to hold Dazai’s hand so he could fiddle with his fingers to make the time pass. Best actor in a leading role was the third to last award called for the night. Chuuya really didn’t think he could make it.

Hours droned on and on until finally Dazai’s category was up. Chuuya’s hand was already interlaced with Dazai’s, their conjoined hands resting on Dazai’s thigh. So when the announcer started going through the nominees, it was easy for Chuuya to squeeze Dazai’s hand comfortingly. Dazai’s eyes flicked down to their hands and he squeezed Chuuya back.

“And the Academy Award for best actor in a leading role goes to...”

Fuck. This was actually happening. All the jokes about Dazai winning aside, this was real. Everything over the past year all came down to this. Chuuya could barely breathe. He wanted this so much for Dazai.

Dazai had put his heart and soul into Shuuji’s character, so much so that he almost lost himself in the process. No one deserved this more than Dazai. Damn, what a change that was. Less than a year ago, Chuuya would’ve been sitting on his couch, swearing at the TV, drinking through a bottle of wine, and wishing with every fiber in his body that Dazai loses.

Now, Chuuya is pretty sure he wants Dazai to win more than Dazai himself wants it. To be fair, it is warranted. Chuuya remembers when Dazai first told him he got the role, he literally twirled Chuuya around his apartment in excitement. Everything from starting to write journals as Shuuji, to filming, to the premiere. Chuuya had never been prouder in his life.

This was it. Chuuya looked over to Dazai only to find that Dazai was already staring at him. Chuuya attempted to smile comfortingly to Dazai, but it came out extremely pained because Chuuya had unknowingly started to chew on his lower lip. Dazai laughed quietly.

Right as Chuuya was about to open his mouth and tell Dazai off for making fun of him, a loud voice boomed throughout the theater.

“...Osamu Dazai.”

Time stopped. Chuuya vaguely registered the applause around him, but it sounded miles and miles away, like a distant drum. The cameras’ presence didn’t exist. All of Chuuya’s attention was on the small genuine smile forming on Dazai’s lips and the way his eyes began to shine while he was looking at Chuuya.

They both immediately reached out towards each other, Chuuya’s hands cupping Dazai’s cheeks as they kissed. Chuuya was so fucking proud and he poured everything he could into a five-second-long kiss. When they pulled apart, Chuuya noticed that at some point both he and Dazai had stood up.

Dazai glanced once more at Chuuya, squeezing one of Chuuya’s hands on his cheek in the process, before parting. Chuuya had a big fucking goofy grin as he watched his boyfriend – that was his boyfriend – walk up on stage to accept an Oscar.

Atsushi, who was on the other side of Dazai, actually had to reach over and tug on Chuuya’s suit jacket to signal it was time to sit down. Chuuya was so hyper-focused on Dazai he probably wouldn’t have even noticed he was still standing until Dazai walked off stage.

Dazai stood up there and proudly accepted his award.

“Thank you,” Dazai said. “I mean seriously who would’ve thought? A first-time actor, long-time popstar, Japanese, bisexual man. Everything was stacked against me, huh?”

The crowd laughed. A couple people even cheered.

“Well it’s a good thing I had such an amazing cast and crew working with me. Atsushi-kun and Akutagawa-kun, I could not have done this without you two. Thank you for teaching me while also allowing me to teach you. And to my crew. Seriously, everyone will tell you I was a handful sometimes, so thank you for never giving up on me. Especially to my manager, Kunikida-kun.

“Shuuji Tsushima was by no means an easy character, and the mafia boss lifestyle was challenging to embrace. I learned so much about myself and my mentality that I never would’ve addressed if not for him. So, as the cliché goes, thank you Shuuji.

“I also want to thank my late friend Oda Sakunosuke for encouraging me to follow my dreams, no matter how impossible the circumstance. I wish you had all met Odasaku more properly, and not through a sleazy article, but at least I can thank him properly by name. I wouldn’t be here without his guidance.

“And finally,” Dazai continued, glancing throughout the crowd until his eyes met Chuuya’s. “When I first met Chuuya I told him about my dream to act in a movie. He laughed and didn’t believe me, taunting me by calling me fake enough to be an actor. As such, I promised him that when I would win an Oscar, I would dedicate it to him. Chuuya, this one is for you. Thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin – for the times it was sometimes hard to see where Shuuji ended and where Dazai began.

“Thank you,” Dazai concluded with a slight bow of his head. He was then ushered off the stage and the award ceremony continued after a brief interlude.

But that didn’t matter to Chuuya. There was no way he registered a word of what was said after Dazai’s speech. He dedicated the fucking Academy Award to him. No way were they going to the Oscars after party. Chuuya had a much better idea in mind.




dazai did THAT @ozamuz – 12h



victoria~ @angrychibi – 12h

it’s 3 am and i stayed up to watch the oscars livestream and i’m ??? actually crying ?? dazai’s thank you to chuuya really got me ugly sobbigg !!!!! fuk


HAPPY DAZAI DAY @blackheart – 12h





Chuuya could barely even wait until they were inside the car to throw himself on top of Dazai. Dazai’s yelp quickly turned to a noise of pleasure as Chuuya tried to make the most out of the uncomfortable situation. The backseat was small, they were both extremely cramped. Dazai was sprawled underneath Chuuya, his ridiculously long legs half-bent half-wrapped around Chuuya’s waist just so he could fit in the tiny space. As such, Chuuya was somewhat looming over Dazai so he could try and give Dazai as much room as possible.

So many emotions were pumping through Chuuya’s veins. He felt like he was on fire. Love, lust, a swelling sense of pride, everything. Chuuya felt incredibly overwhelmed and the only thing running through his mind was that Dazai was the reason for this. He kissed Dazai with such passion and fervor, hoping to convey what Chuuya didn’t have the time to do before Dazai had to accept his fucking Oscar.

Annoyingly enough, there was an insistent buzzing on the side of Chuuya’s chest that kept bringing him out of the moment. Chuuya didn’t know if it was his phone, or Dazai’s, or both, but he really didn’t care. It was going to be some bullshit formality of congratulating Dazai on his win or questioning where they went, and honestly, Chuuya couldn’t give a fuck.

He ran his hands through Dazai’s hair, messing up the slightly gelled style Dazai was going for. Chuuya relished in the fact that he was the only one able to mess with Dazai this much. It felt so good to have Dazai squirming underneath him, gasping against his lips for more, greedily trying to seek friction between the two of them.

Right as Chuuya was about to give in and give Dazai what he wanted, they were both suddenly flown forward as the car came to a screeching halt, pulling them apart. Chuuya’s shoulder slammed into the driver’s seat and he groaned in pain. Dazai just laughed next to him.

“Your apartment, sir,” Chuuya’s driver said as if he didn’t just perfectly time their arrival.

Dazai laughed even harder as he and Chuuya tried to extract themselves from one another and leave the car in a decent state. Chuuya was muttering various swear words under his breath as he tried to straighten out his suit. Even Dazai threw in a generous tip in addition to Chuuya’s tip as he slid out of the car.

“Fuck,” Chuuya breathed out as they walked into the complex. “No wonder everyone talks shit about car sex.”

“I didn’t mind it,” Dazai replied nonchalantly. As if his neck hadn’t just been crammed against a car door for fifteen minutes.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Chuuya retorted. “You just want to fuck me over my motorcycle, which isn’t happening by the way.”

Even though Chuuya wasn’t looking at Dazai, he could hear the pout forming on Dazai’s lips. Their fingers were intertwined as Chuuya essentially dragged Dazai towards the elevator.

“But Chuuya,” Dazai whined, “I can make you feel so good.”

The second the elevator doors closed, Dazai spun Chuuya around so they were looking at each other, and so Dazai could bend down and catch Chuuya’s earlobe between his teeth. Shivers ran up and down Chuuya’s spine as Dazai nibbled from Chuuya’s ear to the pressure point on his neck.

“I can make you feel good too, bastard,” Chuuya moaned out.

Dazai hummed against Chuuya’s skin, seemingly not hearing Chuuya’s words.

“I’m serious,” Chuuya said, a little more conviction in his words. He even pushed Dazai’s face away from his neck so that they could make some much-needed eye contact.

Dazai’s eyes were wide with confusion. Chuuya just smiled and ran a hand down Dazai’s chest, causing Dazai to melt a little bit.

“Let me do this for you,” Chuuya said quietly, “please.”

Dazai blinked owlishly at Chuuya, his mouth opening and closing a couple times. It seemed that he had something to say but didn’t quite know how to phrase it. The ding of the elevator signaling that they had arrived on Chuuya’s floor snapped Dazai out of his trance. Dazai seemed to settle on nodding dumbly.

Chuuya smiled, grabbing Dazai’s hand and, once again, pulling him forward towards his apartment. They made quick work of getting to their bedroom. Once inside, Chuuya practically pushed Dazai down onto the mattress so that he was laying on his back.

Dazai waited a couple agonizing seconds before he realized that Chuuya was nowhere near him on the bed. He sat up only to find Chuuya gently taking off his clothes and hanging them in a dust bag.

“Is Chuuya serious right now?”

Chuuya scoffed. “Just because you’re willing to let yourself get thrown around and ruin your suit doesn’t mean I am. This cost a fucking fortune.”

“I know,” Dazai said rolling his eyes, “I paid for one.”

“You’re not acting like it.”

Dazai grumbled, trying to quickly fumble through every button and zipper and unnecessary tie he could. All the while Chuuya was snickering, only furthering Dazai’s obvious floundering. When Dazai was mostly naked, Chuuya sauntered his way over to Dazai.

“Now, where were we?” Chuuya asked, low and sultry.

Wasting no more time, Chuuya pushed Dazai flat on his back again. Then, Chuuya crawled onto the bed and straddled Dazai’s hips, bending forwards so his lips were hovering over Dazai’s tauntingly.

Dazai could only take so much playful pecks and swipes of Chuuya’s tongue against his lips until he got fed up. Hooking his index finger under Chuuya’s choker, Dazai yanked Chuuya’s face down until he could capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Chuuya moaned as he pulled away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chuuya asked, eyebrow raised.

Dazai ran his fingers along the underside of Chuuya’s choker. “I said you could have control, act like it, it’s not like Chuuya’s never done this before. I can take it, I promise.”

A new intensity ignited inside of Chuuya. Except, it was quite different from the lust-filled haze he felt in the car. Instead of wanting to pour everything into one kiss or one fuck, Chuuya wanted to take things slow. This was Chuuya’s time to appreciate and praise Dazai, and dammit, he wanted to do it right.

No longer was this a flame that would flicker out and die, this was a fire that was going to burn all night long.

Taking his sweet time, Chuuya leaned down and began to kiss Dazai languidly. Chuuya could feel Dazai sigh against his mouth and decided to use that to his advantage, taking Dazai’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging playfully.

Dazai huffed in amusement, tangling his hands in Chuuya’s hair. Chuuya laughed lightly at how needy Dazai was, before releasing Dazai’s lip and kissing him properly once more.

It was rare for Dazai to be on his back like this for Chuuya, and fuck if it didn’t drive Chuuya crazy. He wanted more. So much more. Chuuya began to trail kisses down Dazai’s jaw, biting softly at the sensitive skin.

Chuuya felt Dazai’s breath hitch and the subtle turn of his neck, allowing Chuuya to have access to a wider expanse of soft skin. Taking full advantage, Chuuya trailed a mixture of sloppy kisses and harsher bites down Dazai’s neck. The more and more attention Chuuya devoted to Dazai, the more he could feel Dazai’s skin flush in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Chuuya rasped, taking in how beautiful Dazai was. “I am so fucking proud of you, Dazai. Have I told you that yet?”

Dazai’s cheeks reddened slightly. “No,” he eventually murmured.

“Well I am.” Chuuya paused to kiss Dazai hard. “I am so proud of you, Osamu.” Another kiss. “And everything you’ve done.”

Dazai adverted his eyes, seemingly uncomfortable with so much direct praise. Chuuya just rolled his eyes playfully. He cupped Dazai’s chin and tilted Dazai’s face back so he was looking Chuuya in the eyes.

“It feels weird seeing you so shy,” Chuuya admitted. “Where’s that cocky asshole I fell in love with?”

Chuuya watched as Dazai’s eyes immediately darkened with lust. He had to physically push down a laugh from erupting, it was too easy to rile Dazai up.

“He’s still reeling from the fact that he won an Oscar,” Dazai replied, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

Chuuya chuckled low and deep, ducking his head to suck on Dazai’s collarbone. Slowly, Chuuya slid one of his hands down Dazai’s torso until he was running his fingers under the hem of Dazai’s boxers. Dazai tensed slightly, tugging on Chuuya’s hair and moaning softly for more.

“A fucking Oscar.” Chuuya began to pepper kisses down Dazai’s chest, speaking hoarsely as he went. “And you dedicated it to me, are you fucking insane?”

Dazai opened his mouth to respond but in that moment, Chuuya had cleverly swiped his tongue over one of Dazai’s nipples. Instead, Dazai’s reply dissipated into a gasp of surprise.

“I love how vocal you can be,” Chuuya groaned. “That’s the only good thing about those bandages, your body is so sensitive. You react so well for me.”

Without warning, Chuuya wrapped his lips around Dazai’s nipple, sucking and occasionally nipping at the hardening bud. Chuuya then drifted his hand back up Dazai’s body and began to toy with Dazai’s abandoned nipple. Chuuya alternated between rolling Dazai’s nipple through his fingers, tugging gently, and pinching whenever he felt Dazai start to get on edge.

Dazai whimpered, breathing heavy, and squirming, unsatisfied. His own hands moved down from Chuuya’s hair, nails digging into Chuuya’s taunt shoulder blades. Chuuya moaned around Dazai’s nipple, feeling his own vibrations on Dazai’s chest.

Slowly, Dazai’s nipples became raw and red, and only then did Chuuya pull his head back to admire his handiwork. Dazai’s chest was flushed, just as red as his nipples. The only pale thing about Dazai left was the faint outline of his scars. Chuuya blew cold air on Dazai’s nipples one last time before he smiled smugly up at Dazai.

“If I recall correctly,” Dazai said, “Chuuya is the one who said he didn’t want to have sex with me when we started this whole ordeal.”

Dazai then stuck out his tongue, obviously trying to cover up how effected he was. Chuuya leaned forward, sucking on Dazai’s tongue for a few seconds.

“I can stop,” Chuuya whispered roughly against Dazai’s lips.

“If Chuuya stops I will not hesitate to leak Chuuya’s nudes.”

“Blackmail in the bedroom? I’m disappointed.”

“Chuuya,” Dazai pleaded. That was probably the closest Chuuya was ever going to get.

Chuuya began trailing kisses down Dazai’s body, starting at the neck and gradually moving down. One of Chuuya’s favorite things about taking it slow was being able to dedicate care and love to vast areas of Dazai’s skin which only came out of the bandages for showers and sex. Dazai was getting better though, and that meant more than Chuuya could ever put into words.

Chuuya’s pressed soft kisses down Dazai’s chest and torso, devoting as much time as he possible could. There was one scar that ran all the way from Dazai’s belly button up to his shoulder, and once Chuuya reached the end of the scar, he kissed all the way up to Dazai’s shoulder. He reveled in the fact that Dazai’s head was thrown back, small noises of pleasure slipping past his lips.

All for him. Chuuya bit Dazai’s shoulder possessively before continuing his exploration down Dazai’s body. Once he reached Dazai’s boxers, Chuuya skimmed his lips down the fabric, ignoring the wet spot of precum visible, and continued kissing Dazai’s supple thighs.

“Chuuya is such a tease,” Dazai gasped out.

“You love it,” Chuuya retorted.

Dazai moaned in protest, bucking his hips forward as he did so. Chuuya had none of it though, placing a palm flat against Dazai’s hip and pinning him down to the bed. He looked up through lidded eyes, unamused.

“What’s the point of telling everyone you’re mine if you won’t even fuck me to prove it,” Dazai whined, like the selfish baby that he was.

“You’re so fucking bratty,” Chuuya groaned, his breath fanning Dazai’s aching erection.

Dazai tangled his hands in Chuuya’s hair, yanking Chuuya’s face back up to his own so he could bring Chuuya into another kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, Dazai clashing their bodies closer together. He was being especially annoying today.

Dazai even swung his legs around Chuuya’s waist, digging his bony heel into the small of Chuuya’s back. Chuuya’s arms buckled at the unexpected power of Dazai’s legs, causing him to fall fully on top of Dazai. Both Dazai and Chuuya hissed once Chuuya’s skin finally came into contact with Dazai’s.

“Chuuya,” Dazai whimpered between pressing kisses against Chuuya’s neck, “I need you.”

Chuuya looked into Dazai’s eyes and saw a man that looked starved. All color from Dazai’s eyes had been drained, replaced with the jet black of his pupils. His cheeks were bright red, his lips almost matching in color. Dazai’s hair looked wrecked, the sides of his hair and bangs were stuck to his forehead with sweat. His resolve was starting to break. It really looked like he was holding himself back from flipping Chuuya over and reversing the roles.

And, well, Chuuya could only go so long looking at Dazai’s pained and aroused face before he started to acknowledge his own throbbing cock. He needed Dazai too. Especially now, with their hips colliding like this. Fuck, he was going to make Dazai feel so fucking good.


If Dazai actually screaming was any indicator, then yeah, Chuuya made Dazai feel really fucking good. Chuuya was still thinking about it as they were laying together, Dazai’s hand running up and down Chuuya’s back.

“Chuuya?” Dazai asked softly, bringing Chuuya out of his thoughts.

“Yes, Dazai?”

“Our year is almost up,” Dazai said, quite matter of fact.

Chuuya tilted his head up to look at Dazai. Predictably, Dazai’s eyes were blank, no emotion one way or the other to indicate how Dazai felt about the situation.

“What’s your plan to break up, then?” Chuuya asked, deciding to play along.

Dazai hummed, squeezing Chuuya close to him. “I actually have a new proposal, if Chuuya would be open to hearing it?”

“I’m listening.”

“How about another year?”

Chuuya couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face. Dazai easily matched Chuuya’s soft smile.

“We can do better than that, don’t you think?” Chuuya teased.

Dazai barked out a laugh. “Chuuya’s right,” he said contemplatively. “How about I write a song about Chuuya this year?”

“And steal Haitoku no Kodou’s thunder? I think the fuck not.” Chuuya couldn’t deny how fast his heart was beating at the proposition of Dazai falling in love with music again thanks to him. Fuck.

“Hm,” Dazai said, “That’s a shame since I already started working on something~”

Chuuya’s lips parted slightly. He was absolutely stunned. Dazai seized the opportunity and kissed Chuuya’s lips gently.

When they parted, Chuuya was still looking at Dazai with sparkles in his eyes, like Dazai was his whole world. Which, really, wasn’t that far off from the truth. At least Dazai seemed to be staring at Chuuya in the same way.

“I love you, Chuuya.”

“I love you too, Osamu.”




The next morning Chuuya woke up to the faint smell of brewed coffee and some sort of meat pan-seared, bacon his mind supplied for him. Upon further inspection of the abandoned covers and folded clothes, Dazai was no longer in bed either. By this analysis that means Dazai had attempted to make Chuuya breakfast. That never meant anything good.

Chuuya groaned and rolled over, swiping his phone off the bedside table. Maybe he could delay the inevitable and catch up on things he had missed last night. Chuuya clicked on his phone’s home button and his eyes blew wide at the steady flow of notifications rolling in.

There were texts from all his friends, some artists within his record label, Mori, and Kouyou; a dozen missed calls from Kouyou; and so many, just literally an absurd, amount of Twitter direct messages. That combination of things was so much worse than Chuuya could’ve anticipated.

Going back to the app that has plagued his existence for almost a year now, Chuuya opened Twitter. The first post on his feed was something that Dazai tweeted.


osamu dazai () @nolongerhuman – 5h

who needs an oscar when i’ve got all i could ever want right here? (≧◡≦)

(fr tho thank you to the academy~ sleepy chuuya is just an added bonus~)



Chuuya tensed up looking at the image. It was from last night. Or, well, more accurately from early this morning, most likely when Dazai woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. In the photo, Chuuya was fast asleep, his cheek pressed on Dazai’s bare chest. Most of Dazai’s scars were hidden from view, but that wasn’t what Chuuya was concerned about.

The sheet covering them was hanging low, just barely covering Chuuya’s hips, and it was thin, every curve visible. Dazai’s hand was tangled in Chuuya’s hair, subtly brushing his locks to the side to get a glimpse of Chuuya’s neck. There were hints of red nips and newly forming hickeys all over Chuuya’s neck and Dazai’s chest. Dazai’s hips even had clear handprint shaped light purple bruises.

To be fair, the picture would have been kind of cute, Chuuya was snuggling close to Dazai, a faint smile on his face as he slept which no amount of posing could’ve made possible. However, since it was so blatantly obvious by every single thing within frame that Dazai and Chuuya had just had sex, it tainted the sweet gesture of the picture. Dazai was absolutely shameless.

“Osamu,” Chuuya bellowed loud enough so Dazai could hear it no matter where he was in the apartment. Unlike last night, the added use of Dazai’s first name was not a good thing. Whenever Chuuya said “Osamu” it was to make Dazai feel something, and right now the only thing Dazai was going to feel was pain.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chuuya continued, “I don’t want to go through this bullshit again!”

Fucking Twitter. Seriously, Chuuya wishes he had taken the damn app down when he had the chance. Now he had to go through yet another scandal with his asshole of a boyfriend.

And even though Chuuya was fuming about the half-naked picture floating all around the Internet, there was a small part of him that still felt giddy calling Dazai his boyfriend. Somehow, they had made it through two scandals before. There wasn’t a doubt in Chuuya’s mind that they would make it through a third.