双黒 — ブンゴウストレイドッグス
Missing Dazai Was Like Missing The Smoke Of A Cigarette
Dazai and Chuuya.
Chuuya and Dazai.
Double Black.
Partners.
They were known to everybody; everyone knew their names — and rightly so.
Their crimes were a work of art, honestly.
If there were such a thing as soulmates these two would definitely be fit the description: they way they know each other inside out, working together like it was the most natural thing ever.
It was a perfect match, really, they were strong, they were invincible, they were perfect.
They were.
They had been.
Once, a long time ago.
Nowadays, Chuuya was fighting alone and even though his work certainly was efficient, it wasn't perfect. At times it lacked precision and performance, it was flawed — to put it simply: it was still above-average but it wasn't a work of art. Not like it had been with Dazai.
Chuuya had just returned from another, rather demanding, mission, feeling worn out and jaded. There's a lot more effort involved, seeing as he can't use "Corruption" anymore, knowing it would definitely kill him eventually if Dazai's not around to use that stupid ability of his to stop it from happening.
Of course "Corruption" had also left Chuuya feeling exhausted and completely shattered like his body had been drained of all energy but that was a different kind of pain.
Every time he needed to use his combat skills to complete a mission rather than simply demolishing them with his ability, he was reminded once again of the fact that Dazai had left him.
"Stupid waste of bandages!" Chuuya growled angrily while pouring himself a generous amount of red wine and dragging his aching body to the armchair in front of the window.
"He doesn't give a damn, that bastard!"
No matter how much he tried to block them out, thoughts about Dazai kept creeping in, tainting his thoughts, his mind, his heart.
It's always worse after a mission. It makes him think of the times when they would have done these kind of things together. Back when they were still invincible.
Dazai and Chuuya.
Chuuya and Dazai.
Double Black.
Partners.
He needed to stop thinking about that, damn it!
Clenching his fist, Chuuya stood up and poured himself another glass of his favourite wine. Two glasses turned into three, three turned into four and before he knew it he had emptied the whole bottle of his favourite wine, Château Lafite Rothschild.
Upon noticing that, Chuuya let out a frustrated groan. Now that tacky bastard also made him waste his precious wine on him!
It was already quite late but Chuuya didn't feel like sleeping just yet. He looked around his fairly empty flat and his gaze fell upon the box of cigarettes lying on the kitchen counter.
In his drunken state, he didn't give it much thought and lit himself a cigarette.
It's become a habit, honestly. Chuuya doesn't know when it started but whenever he feels like this, he always has a smoke — it makes him feel a little bit better, somehow.
It's pathetic.
Even though he would never ever admit it, Chuuya misses Dazai. It's been years since he betrayed the Port Mafia and left him in the middle of the night and yet Chuuya still finds himself thinking about him every single time he has to complete a mission on his own — hell, he even thinks about him when he's not on a mission!
It's not only pathetic and despicable, but it's also destructive.
Dazai had never nor will he ever be able to care about anybody than himself. He doesn't seem to understand the concept of empathy or affection — Chuuya knows that. (He was brought up by Mori after all, how could one expect otherwise?)
And yet, he still finds himself making excuses and missing him. (Maybe he'd had a good reason for leaving the Mafia, for leaving him, for leaving everything behind?)
Chuuya clenches his fist and takes a deep drag of his cigarette, letting as much smoke fill up his lungs as possible. He closes his eyes and holds his breath for as long as can before exhaling slowly, letting the cold smoke escape from his lungs into the chilly night air.
Missing Dazai was like missing a violent thunderstorm: it was completely irrational and stupid — Dazai would only wreak havoc in his mind, leaving behind nothing but destruction and devastation.
At the sound of someone walking around, Chuuya slowly forces his tired and heavy eyelids to open. He must have fallen asleep in the chair.
There's another quiet noise coming from out of the kitchen and instantly Chuuya jumps to his feet, grabbing his dagger and making his way towards the noise.
"What the hell…" he mumbles quietly while furiously blinking his eyes in an attempt to get himself to focus. He really shouldn't have drunk that much yesterday.
As he steps into the kitchen, ready to attack, his whole body tenses up at recognising the person standing right in front of him in the kitchen.
"Dazai…?"
This can't be true. There's no way that the same person that's made him empty an entire bottle of "Château Lafite Rothschild" last night, that seemed to haunt his every thought, was now standing right in front of him.
"Oi! Dazai! What the hell?! What are you doing here?! No, first of all how did you get in my kitchen?!"
After the surprise had passed, anger took over.
How dare he?! How dare he stand there like nothing had happened?!
Dazai laughed softly. "Chuuya! I am also very pleased to see you again!" He mustered him from head to toe and judging from his smirk and the way his eyes glanced towards the empty wine bottle he knew exactly what Chuuya had been doing. "Rough night?" He asked with that same cocky smirk.
"Shut up, Dazai!" Chuuya growled angrily. "I'm not in the mood for that! What the fuck are you thinking, suddenly appearing in my house?! I'm going to kill you right now, you traitor!" Chuuya's eyes glinted and the grip around his dagger tightened.
"You aren't still upset, are you Chuuya? Come on, that was so long ago!" Dazai chuckled and came closer.
"Stay away from me! I swear to God Dazai, if you come one step closer, I will kill you!"
Dazai didn't seem to mind one bit, taking another step towards the significantly smaller redhead. "I've missed you, too, Chuuya! After all you're my favourite little hat rack!" Another one of his sly grins as he teased him and took another step.
Chuuya clenched his jaw and stared at Dazai. His alcohol induced mind wouldn't focus properly and he feared his combat skills also wouldn't be of much use in his current state. Damn it, why the hell did he have to drink so much?!
There was now barely any space left between them as Dazai came to a halt and looked down at him, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?! Get the fuck away from me, you stupid waste of bandages!" Chuuya protested furiously as Dazai suddenly grabbed his chin and pressed his lips on Chuuya's. Dazai's tongue forcefully entered Chuuya's mouth, pressing him into the wall behind him.
At first Chuuya struggled against Dazai, trying to clumsily free himself from his firm grip but soon he gave in and leaned into the kiss. He could feel Dazai smirking against his lips and growled — that smug bastard! He'd show him!
Suddenly Chuuya showed initiative, grabbing Dazai's shirt and pulling him down a bit, fighting for dominance. He could feel Dazai losing his annoying nonchalance, getting more and more desperate until they were both clinging onto each other, hungrily kissing like they needed each other to keep breathing.
The kiss tasted like red wine and cigarettes and regret.
After they finally broke apart, gasping for air, they looked at each other. Their cheeks flushed, their hair disheveled and their eyes glazed over.
Yet, Dazai still managed to give him one of his sly smiles. "Well… it seems like you did miss me, after all!" A soft chuckle followed.
"Shut up, you bastard!" Chuuya replied, licking his lips. He could still taste him.
Dazai's eyes darkened and as he captured the redhead's lips once again, claiming his mouth as his, Chuuya knew that it would be a night he would come to regret bitterly in the morning.
The bright light woke Chuuya up, he squinted against the sunlight and groaned. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he had one hell of a headache.
He turned around in his bed, clinging onto the tiny sliver of hope that he would still be here, that last night had meant something to him, too.
When he opened his eyes and saw nothing but his own black bedsheets, he shut his eyes and clenched his fists.
Of course.
Of course Dazai wouldn't stay.
What did he expect? Didn't he just last night establish yet again that Dazai was totally unfamiliar with the concept of other people's feelings?
He'd known that — he knew last night that the brunette would leave him again, he knew and he had accepted that premise.
Then why did he still feel like a part of him has been ripped out, leaving him only with a gaping aching hole in his chest?
He suddenly craved a cigarette.
Missing Dazai was like missing the smoke of a cigarette: everybody know that smoking is bad, that cigarettes are only going to kill you some day and yet they still smoke them; it was the same with Dazai — Chuuya knows he shouldn't keep missing that damn bastard, that it would one day destroy him completely, yet he still yearned for him more than anything.
He took a deep drag of his cigarette and revelled in the feeling of dizziness it gave him.
The smoke may be slowly killing his body but it didn't matter, did it?
Because Dazai was already killing his mind anyways.
I'm so sorry Chuuya! T_T
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