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of wine and demons

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The world around him spun erratically—never once giving him a moment to process what his body was even doing. The only thing he could see was the bloody intricate designs that laced his body and the summoned black orbs flying towards their victims.

Eliminate the enemy his partner had told him before giving him to go-ahead to use his ability to its full potential.

He tasted the blood that overwhelmed deep within his throat, struggling to gasp for air as corruption refused to give up its hold on his body to its desperate pleas.

Eliminate the enemy he thought as another orb flew from his hand and slammed into the nearly unidentifiable remains of their target.

The earth was a wasteland. Trees had been uprooted. Grass hidden by the vast amounts of blood—of whose was impossible to tell.

Eliminate the enemy. Blood dripped down from his lips as the god inside him laughed at the scene presented in front of him as he urged his host to continue on with the perpetual destruction.

Before he could even raise his arm to the skies to summon another of the orbs, the firm grasp of his partner's hand wrapped around his wrist as he spoke into his ear, “You're overexerting your ability again. Please, end this now.”

At that moment, the whole world went white and a feeling of intense relief washed over his body.

When he came to, Chuuya fell to his knees, gripping on to his stomach as he tried clearing his throat of all the blood that had accumulated during corruption’s control. His body was trembling as he struggled to keep conscious, despite his body's desperate pleas for him to rest.

He felt Dazai place his hand on his back—for what he presumed to be him trying to comfort him—, to which he promptly used the rest of his strength to push him away before muttering, “I don't need your fucking help, asshole...”

“My, my, mon petit chou sure is feeling irritable tonight.” Dazai teased before gently grabbing his partner's shoulders and pulling him against his chest, playing with a curled strand of hair as he continued on with that sickly sweet voice he knew Chuuya hated, “Let your dear Dazai take care of you, chibi. Just for tonight.”

“Damn bastard...,” The redhead muttered, his hand gripping on to his partner's black overcoat as his eyes grew heavy, “Tell anyone about this and I'll kill you...”

He stared down at him for a moment before chuckling, “If you insist.”


Dazai fucked up. Badly.

Corruption wasn't an ability to be taken lightly. It fed off of Chuuya's energy and once that was all but diminished it began to feed on his body.

Admittedly, there was always a small—almost unidentifiable—feeling of worry that went over him whenever his partner would use his ability to its full extent. But that worry was increased tenfold once he saw how crippling it truly was to his body.

As Chuuya laid there unconscious against his chest, he took that moment to examine one of his bloodied arms—wounded by what he assumed to be by the intricate patterns that laced his skin only moments before—and scrutinised how deep it really cut into his skin, which is to say that it went dreadfully deep.

“You really are an idiot, chibi...” Dazai sighed before picking him up, not minding the blood that soaked into his clothing, and took him back to their apartment.


When Chuuya finally came to, he was laying on a bed in a room that was too bright for comfort, shivering from the intense cold that had taken control over his small body.

That bastard, he thought to himself, pulling the comforter closer around his body, I’ll kill him for letting it get this cold.

Then it occurred to him.

When did he even get home? And more importantly. Why was his body all bandaged up?

His arms felt numb and it took great strength to move them even an inch. The only logical explanation he could come up with was that it was caused by his ability, but the post-corruption side effects had never been that severe, so why now?

“Aw, you finally decided to wake up.” He heard his partner speak up, silently entering his room with a glass of water in his hand, “I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya began, forcing his body to sit up, which resulted in him letting out an involuntary groan of pain in the process, “What the hell happened back there?”

Dazai let out a dramatic sigh, sitting at the edge of his bed before answering, “You were being an idiot and overdid corruption to the point it started feeding off of you.” He reached over to him and placed his palm on his forehead, hissing at how hot he felt. “...Too bad it didn’t just finish you off.”

“Fuck you too...” He muttered under his breath before allowing his body to fall back into its previous position, his arm resting over his eyes to shield them from the morning sunlight. “Close the curtains. It’s too damn bright in here.”

“You really are going to start treating me like your personal nurse, huh.” His partner mumbled as he got up to do as he asked before returning to his bedside, smiling down at him while his fingers played with his silky hair and spoke in a teasing tone, “You look so cute when you're this helpless. I could just kiss you, but alas, I wouldn’t want to get infected by those gross germs of yours.”

Paying no mind to the increasing heat on his cheeks that may or may not have been from the fever, Chuuya, rather feebly, punched him in the shoulder. “Say that again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Dazai gripped his shoulder and plastered on a pained expression. “How ungracious of you. I was simply complimenting you on your sickly beauty and you had to go and hate me for it.” He then bent down to whisper in his ear that husky voice that the redhead hated to love, “Or maybe it’s because you are too embarrassed to admit you actually want me to kiss you, hmm?”

“In your wildest fucking dreams,” Chuuya snarled, turning his head away from him before continuing, “Hell, I’d rather kiss that damn little subordinate of yours than you.

“Chuuya-kun,” Dazai whined, “Now that’s just plain hurtful,” He turned away from him, pretending to cry, “Am I...Am I really that ugly? Should-Should I go have Ane-san give me a full makeover?”

Much to his annoyance, his partner didn’t end his whining there—going off on how he can’t believe he would ever say that and ‘Kouyou-san would’ve never been that rude about it’ and that Chuuya should ‘respect his elders’ (despite him being the younger one).

In the end, the endless crying became too much for him to handle. And so, in an attempt to make him shut up for at least a while, Chuuya reached over to grab the collar of Dazai’s overcoat and pulled him down to press his lips against his.

To his surprise, Dazai didn’t jerk away or turn away from him—in fact, he cupped the redhead’s cheeks and turned what was supposed to be just a quick peck on the lips into a long, passionate kiss.

They only separated from the other’s lips when they were practically gasping for oxygen—their hot breath penetrating the other’s skin, resting their heads against each other.

Even with his eyes closed, Chuuya could sense the I-told-you-so smile on Dazai’s lips as he spoke, “You were a lot easier to pull a confession out of than I had expected...”

“Asshole,” He growled, grabbing a fistful of his partner’s coat, “Tell anyone about this and, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.”

Dazai simply chuckled and pulled him back in for another, much softer, kiss before finally responding, “As you wish, mon petit chou.