Hey! It's been forever since I posted a new fic! Well, I'm currently watching (and reading) Bungou Stray Dogs. I love it! It's hilarious, but also has a great plot and amazing characters. But you know me, I can't get into a fandom without having some gay ships. In this case, it's Atushi and Dazai. So here you go!
"So she's your type?"
"I like all women."
If Atsushi's growing frustration was a nail, then Dazai's nonchalant tone was the hammer knocking it further and further in. Continuing to rest his chin dejectedly on the desk, Atsushi turned his head so that he could glare at the dark-haired detective. Was he hating his heart for cursing him to fall for the laid-back, suicide-obsessed man? A thousand times, yes. Was he going to take it out on Dazai? Of course.
He wasn't the only one. Atsushi could feel Kunikida's irritation clear across the desk; Dazai must've been feeling it from all sides. If he wasn't such an oblivious prick, of course.
If only Atsushi could stop feeling so jealous and just be angry. He couldn't stop his mind from flicking back to Dazai and the abduction victim, Sasaki. Had Dazai slept with her or not? Atsushi had no idea, and it was killing him.
He was able to tune out most of Dazai and Kunikida's back and forth- Dazai talking about a double suicide, Kunikida sounding annoyed, nothing new- until Dazai turned to him, holding Kunikida's book between his fingers. "Oh, Atsushi, want to read it?" he asked, looking far too innocent. "His ideal woman."
Kunikida looked shocked. "You bastard! When'd you swipe that?"
"Read…? You mean it's written down in here?" Atsushi asked, his jealousy being quickly replaced with curiosity. He began to flip through the pages.
"Kunikida's notebook has a wide range of schedules, plans, and ideals recorded in it," responded Dazai. He leaned over to Atsushi and pointed to a section in the notebook. "See, like here."
Atsushi glanced down to where Dazai was gesturing, and immediately gasped in disgust. "Th-This is too much…" he managed, trying and failing to divert his eyes from Kunikida's… ideals.
All of a sudden, the book was plucked out of his hands from above him. Atsushi glanced backward tentatively to find a fuming Kunikida standing there. "You have a problem with it?" the blonde growled.
"No, I can sympathize with your vision of an ideal woman, but…" Atsushi trailed off. That was a lie; he didn't really have a vision of an ideal woman. The reason? He didn't… exactly… like women in that way.
The person he did like in that way spoke next. "You should probably not share that vision with women," said Dazai.
Kunikida looked furious. "Forget about me! We're talking about the abductions right now! Have we picked up on anything?"
"Yeah," Dazai replied. He held up the newspaper; its front page held the story of their failed rescue, with a photograph of Kunikida beside where the abduction victims had been held. "In this newspaper photo, you look pretty manly."
It was like a kick to Atsushi's stomach. Luckily, Kunikida didn't seem to like it either, because he hissed, "Is that your way of indicating that you want me to punch you?"
Dazai ignored him and kept talking. "What's regrettable is this… you should've picked sexier eyeglass frames if you were going to end up in the news. They're so plain." With that, he reached over and took the glasses right off of Kunikida's face and put them on his own.
"Hey!" said Kunikida, indignant.
Again, Dazai ignored him. "Only a naturally flamboyant person like me could pull off wearing them." He turned to Atsushi, and posed thoughtfully. "What do you think, Atsushi?"
"Not bad, really," admitted Atsushi. Dazai did look good with the glasses on. However, Kunikida looked naked without them.
"They only scream 'con man' to me," growled the blonde, closing his eyes. He paused for a moment, and then opened them again. "Wait…"
"What's the matter?" asked Dazai. The words had barely left his mouth before Kunikida reached over and snatched his glasses back.
"Let's go, both of you," he ordered, putting them back on. "I know who's behind this." He was off at once, charging towards the door. A jittery burst of nervous excitement welled up inside Atsushi. He got to his feet, mind racing. However, when Dazai stood up, the question he'd been wrestling with before broke through the whirlwind of thoughts in his head; had Dazai slept with the abduction victim or not?
Dazai took a few steps in Kunikida's direction before stopping to look back at Atsushi, who hadn't moved. "Are you coming or what?" he said.
"Y-Yes," stammered Atsushi. Dazai turned back toward the door, but before he could reach it, Atsushi blurted out, "Did you sleep with Sasaki?" Immediately, he froze, his cheeks burning. Dazai looked taken off guard for a moment, and then laughed.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked teasingly. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"No!" cried Atsushi. "Look, just forget it, okay? Forget I ever asked."
Dazai smirked at him. "All right."
Atsushi leaned down as if searching for something on the desk, looking at anything, anything but Dazai. "You can go ahead outside," he muttered. "Kunikida's probably getting impatient, so you don't want to keep him waiting. I'll just be a second."
"Okay." He heard the sound of Dazai's leisurely footsteps retreating, and his heart dislodged itself from his throat. However, just as he thought that the older detective had left, he heard Dazai speak from across the room.
"I didn't, by the way."
Atsushi looked up. "Huh?"
"I didn't sleep with her," Dazai explained. "She slept in an adjoining room to mine. I didn't lay a finger on her at all."
The knot inside Atsushi's stomach unwound itself somewhat, and he couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across his face. Dazai saw this, and grinned. "You're hopeless," he laughed.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?" demanded Atsushi, heat seeping into his cheeks.
But Dazai was already heading out the door. Not wanting to aggravate Kunikida's obsession with punctuality, Atsushi followed him. But as the two of them got into the back seat of the car, Atsushi felt Dazai's hand brush against his. Did he do that on purpose? the white-haired boy wondered, his heart beginning to bounce inside of his chest. There was no way of knowing for sure; Dazai's detached, impassive gaze gave away nothing.
He might have done it on purpose. Maybe it was a sign; a subtle hint for only Atsushi to pick up on. Maybe he felt the same way about him…?
Or, thought Atsushi ruefully, maybe he was just reaching for his seat belt.
end