"I bet you didn't write this in you notebook, huh?"

The words that left Dazai's mouth sounded oddly light-hearted, the contrast with the tense back pressed against Kunikida's side so clear in his voice that it probably hurt the both of them.

Crossing his arms under his head to make himself comfortable, Kunikida looked at his partner out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't worried about what had just happened; it wasn't the first time they ended up like this, with half their clothes taken off and the other half still clinging to their bodies but creased in an unkempt mess. He was a bit concerned, though, about the fact that Dazai kept pushing himself to do something he clearly didn't want.

"Nothing you ever do is written in the Ideal," Kunikida finally replied, "so it's alright."

Even from where he laid he could catch a glimpse of Dazai's jaw tensing. Kunikida was sure the reason wasn't a sudden regret for having ruined every single one of his meticulously planned days since he came to the Agency, but the knowledge only made the situation they were currently in more awkward.

Eventually Dazai huffed out something that was probably intended to be interpreted as a laugh.

"Even though you wanted to––"

"Yeah, yeah, I said it would be good," Kunikida cut him off. He had indeed stated some time ago that he wanted to have sex with Dazai, because after weeks keeping a precarious balance between the usual urge to kick his partner's ass and a newfound pleasure in shutting him up with kisses, after stumbling with that lunatic into this parody of a relationship and realising they weren't completely terrible at it (and because it had been Dazai the one to start stealing kisses to make Kunikida blush as a hobby), it felt logical; and hell if he didn't want to.

Even though he had never considered being into men something appropriate enough to write it down on the Ideal.

(Not that Dazai could ever fit in any idea Kunikida might have about logic, or cared about his life plan.)

"But I can live without it. Quite well, mind you." Dazai extended his flexed legs a little. "So I don't mind you don't want to."

"But I want to," Dazai replied, a barely audible whisper that was more for him than for Kunikida to hear.

"Sure. That's why you have an existential crisis whenever we try."

Dazai turned his head to look at him. "I'm not having an existential crisis."

Kunikida couldn't help but laugh at his partner's offended expression.

"Whatever. I'm fine either way, so stop forcing yourself. You worry me."

It should be punished by law, Kunikida thought, the way Dazai's eyebrows shot up, how his warm eyes widened in pure, irrepressible surprise. For someone who had seen more than Kunikida would probably ever ask, he was caught off guard by the simplest things way too often.

He turned around completely, straddling Kunikida's leg as he laid down on him.

"Aw, what was that?" Dazai crossed his arms and used them as a pillow on Kunikida's chest, ignoring the half-hearted attempts to push him off with a grin that was gentler than expected.

"Get off," Kunikida managed to grumble, distracted by the heat creeping up his neck. "You're heavy."

"You're actually heavier," Dazai pointed out, swinging his legs as he patiently waited for Kunikida to give up. "But… Could it be––" He raised his head, an exaggerated shocked expression drawn on his features as he inhaled sharply and unnecessarily loudly. "Maybe… Kunikida-kun, could you have actually grown fond of me?"

And Kunikida might be relieved (and annoyed) to have that familiar Dazai, the clown who was easy to deal with and wasn't upset back; but he was also a bit disappointed the moments his partner allowed anyone to peek through the act were so scarce and brief. Kunikida wanted to ask, wanted to learn about the reasons behind every shade in those deceitfully innocent eyes.

But he wouldn't get answers that way. Dazai was not the type to give anything he didn't want to, and Kunikida had the feeling that was just right the way it should be.

Kunikida gave his partner an unimpressed raised eyebrow, his mind racing as it tried to find a proper answer to what he could tell was no longer just a joke.

You wish. Hah! Uh… Well. I hope not.

(Maybe.)

Oops.

…God help me.

Kunikida slid an arm out of its place under his head, grabbed at a loose thread hanging from the bandage around Dazai's left wrist and tugged at it absentmindedly.

Oddly enough, Kunikida wasn't curious about that. The glimpses he had caught at times were enough.

"Guess what isn't written in the Ideal either," he eventually muttered.

The kiss caught him off guard, shaped his lips into a smile that mirrored Dazai's. It was unexpectedly soft, too, almost like a ghost of an actual mouth over his own. But Kunikida knew, if only for the warm weight laying on him, that it was real; his fingers found their way to Dazai's hair, tangled with it and refused to let go.

"Are you going to write it, then?" Dazai eventually whispered, drawing back and leaning his head on Kunikida's shoulder. Kunikida's hand drifted down until it arrived to his partner's waist.

"No." He wanted to apologise when he felt Dazai's almost successfully concealed wince, but forced himself to continue. Now Dazai wasn't looking at him, now the will to speak up his mind was stronger than his doubts. It was the best moment. "You have the habit of turning everything I write there upside down."

For the longest second, Dazai didn't move.

Then he landed a kiss, shy and deliberately slow, on Kunikida's clavicle.

"It's a good idea, then."