"Make me feel alive."
It was precisely midnight when Chuuya had been awaken by a soft, yet firm knocking at the door of his apartment. Truthfully, his only motivation for getting up to answer it was the thought of viciously pulverizing whoever had dared to disturb him-not that Chuuya slept well anyways, but oh well.
However, much to his initial shock, standing in front of him was none other than Dazai Osamu. Usually this wouldn't have surprised Chuuya, but it'd been four years since his ex-partner had contacted him apart from work related matters. So, now the two stood there staring at each other, one confused and the other too blank-faced to read.
"I said: Make me feel alive," Dazai repeated, his words masked by his characteristic monotone voice.
"I- Yeah yeah, I heard what you said, it's just," Chuuya sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to wake up his dreary brain so he could fully register the situation occurring before him. "For fucks sake, Dazai... It's twelve o'clock at night, did you go out drinking or something? What's up with you?"
There was a brief silence from the man before him, but then Chuuya was nudged aside as the bandaged covered male collapsed onto the redheads couch, not even bothering to ask for permission when they both knew that at this point he didn't need any.
Chuuya blinked for a few heartbeats before he shook his head and shut his door, locking it once more before trudging over to his couch to confront the pain in his rear who had his face buried in a pillow.
"Dazai, I am seriously not in the mood for your vague poetry bullshit, either tell me what's wrong or I'm kicking your ass out and going back to bed," Chuuya snapped, but there was still an obvious undertone of concern laced into his threat
The brunette said nothing-for once in his miserable life-and instead rolled over onto his side, staring at the calendar hung up on the shorter man's wall. Chuuya followed his gaze and his eyes promptly widened as he realized the date; January tenth, the day Odasaku died. (Authors actual death date)
Chuuya gained a much more sympathetic expression and feeling, despite not personally knowing or caring about Oda, he knew how much Dazai had. After all, no one knew better than Chuuya how it felt to loose people, especially those he cared about.
"I'm... I'm sorry," he murmured softly, looking back over at his former partner.
Dazai merely scoffed, sitting up and shrugging. "It's not your fault so don't waste your breath apologizing."
Most people would've been irritated or hurt by this remark, and Chuuya would've been too, but he knew Dazai too well to hold it against him. He knew that when Dazai felt too vulnerable or exposed, he would push the person and the subject away in order to try and save himself from any further pain.
"Do.. Do you wanna stay the night?" the words were out of Chuuya's mouth before he had the time to think them over.
"Isn't Chuuya a bit old for sleepovers?" the bandage waster teased, but it lacked his usual taunting and mischievous tone. Then, he gave a quick glance at the empty space on the couch next to him. A subtle signal for Chuuya to join him and the latter mentally prided himself in knowing Dazai well enough to pick up on the hint.
With a far more gentle sigh, Chuuya complied and sat next to him, but as soon as he did, he was all but tackled by the usually calm and composed ex-Mafia member.
Dazai's arms snuck around Chuuya's waist and clutched at the back of black T-shirt, his face nestling itself in the crook of Chuuya's neck. He sat there shocked for a moment before gingerly reaching up with one hand to run his fingers through the lanky detectives hair, using the other to subconsciously trace patterns on the taller young man's back.
"You know, I highly doubt Oda would want you to sit around and sulk. He'd probably want you to be happy or some shit," Chuuya muttered, tilting his head so that he was nuzzling against soft brown locks.
Dazai hummed in acknowledgement and pulled back slightly only to rest his forehead against Chuuya's, who was suddenly hyper aware of just how close the pair had become.
"I know, that's why I came here," Dazai explained quietly, as if afraid to break the precious moment.
Chuuya raised his eyes to meet the chestnut brown ones that seemingly stared into his soul, but yet they did it comfortably if that was possible. Most days when the two were together, those pools of brown looked empty, void of any feeling. Today-or rather tonight, they had a spark in them that had only ever been witnessed by the Mafia executive.
"I make you happy?" Chuuya inquired in a matching hushed tone, cocking his head to the side in a subconscious enunciation of his surprise.
"More than that," Dazai clarified. "You make me feel alive without even trying, you fill that hole in my chest with such emotion that it overwhelms me, but in the best way possible."
Chuuya doesn't even need a mirror to know he probably looks like a fish out of water at the moment; mouth open and closing as his brain tried to form a coherent response to the confession. In the end, Chuuya just gave up and decided to let his actions express the feelings that his mouth can't, kissing Dazai before he had a chance to complain about Chuuya's lack of response.
He wasn't sure how ling the two stayed lip-locked, all Chuuya knew was that it still felt too short despite gasping for air when they finally parted. His heart was pounding in his chest to the point that Chuuya wondered how he wasn't dead of a heart attack, but he certainly wasn't complaining. After a few seconds of catching his breath, he could finally bring himself to speak again.
"I'm... I'm glad, you do the same for me. You make me feel human, even if I am only partly," Chuuya breathes against Dazai's lips, earning a genuine smile that Chuuya can't help but gawk at as he decided happiness is an amazing look on the brunette.
"Aww~ Is Chuuya in love with me?" Dazai queried, a mix of playfulness and nervousness hiding behind his question, his eyes flickering open to meet Chuuya's.
"As a matter of fact, he is."