i won't let you choke (on the noose around your neck)

[twelve shots of summer: eleventh hour, week one: "last time"]

[tw: self-harm, depression]

Chūya could tell that Dazai was getting into one of his moods again. He was getting more and more distant, his smiles increasingly fake. Chūya knew without having to check that there would be fresh wounds under those ever-present bandages. As always, he told himself that it wasn't really his problem. So what if Dazai was incapable of taking care of himself? Why should Chūya give a shit? But as always, he still found himself breaking into Dazai's place.

He wrinkled his nose as the musty smell of the apartment hit him. It was dark in the apartment despite it being only late afternoon. No lights were on and the blinds were all closed. Chūya reached out and found the light switch effortlessly, flicking it on. His annoyance grew as he stalked through the apartment, seeing clothes strewn about everywhere. He could see dirty dishes piled up in the sink in the kitchen. He ignored it all for now and went straight for the bedroom.

Chūya opened the door and immediately slapped the light switch.

"Wake up, lazy bastard," he loudly demanded.

Dazai was curled up under a blanket, and he blinked blearily up at Chūya with the eye that wasn't covered by a bandage. Even from the doorway, Chūya could see that Dazai's brown hair was limp and greasy.

After several seconds too long, Dazai's eyes finally seemed to focus. "What are you doing here?"

Chūya crossed his arms over his chest and gave Dazai an unimpressed look. "Making you get your shit together. It's bad enough I'm stuck working with you, but right now you're super disgusting."

Dazai closed his eyes again. "Go away. I'm tired."

Chūya scowled at his mess of a partner. "I'll leave once I see that you're at least somewhat functional."

He crossed the small distance to the bed and yanked the comforter off of Dazai. He didn't even want to know how long that idiot had been in those same wrinkled clothes.

"Get up before I kick you," Chūya demanded.

Dazai slowly sat up, frowning slightly at Chūya. "Your voice is hurting my head," he complained. His words lacked their usual bite.

"And your smell is hurting my nose," Chūya muttered. "Now get out of those gross clothes. When's the last time you showered?"

Dazai looked thoughtful for a moment and then just shrugged. Chūya groaned.

"Whatever. I'm gonna get your shower turned on."

The bathroom, at least, wasn't as bad as the kitchen. It could still use a good cleaning, but that could wait until the owner of said bathroom was clean. Chūya turned the shower on, getting the water to be almost too hot, as that usually helped Dazai ground himself instead of staying lost in his head. He went back into Dazai's room, and his partner was down to his underwear and working on getting all those bandages off. Chūya sat next to Dazai on the bed and grabbed his right arm. Dazai stared blankly forward as Chūya unwrapped the bandages, only making a small noise of discomfort as Chūya carefully peeled it away from fresh cuts alongside Dazai's forearm.

Dazai had been defensive the first couple of times. He had tried to scare Chūya away, but his cruelty was far less clever than usual when he was in one of these moods. Chūya wisely just avoided commenting on anything he saw: the cuts on his wrists, the rope burn marks on his throat. Chūya's breath caught in his throat momentarily when the bandages on Dazai's face were off, and both of those brown eyes were staring into Chūya's blue eyes.

Once Dazai was free of his bandages, Chūya helped him up and nudged him to the bathroom.

"Don't be in there too long or I'll have to come drag you out," Chūya warned.

Dazai rolled his eyes, which was good enough for Chūya. The redhead made quick work of stripping the bed and shoving it all into the washing machine. Once that was going, he wandered into the kitchen. He knew from experience most of anything in the refrigerator would likely be expired, so he pulled out his phone and texted a subordinate to bring some food here. There were definitely some good perks to being a high-ranking member of the Port Mafia.

Chūya set to work with cleaning the dishes in the sink. It was an easy enough, if boring, task. He heard the shower shut off at some point during this. By the time he was wrapping up on this task, Dazai came slinking into the kitchen, dark wet hair plastered to his face. The shower seemed to have brought some color to his skin, and there was a light in his eyes that hadn't been present earlier.

"Chūya-kun would make a good housewife," Dazai commented as he sat down on a chair.

Chūya threw the dish-drying towel at Dazai's face.

"Nevermind, you aren't docile enough," Dazai sighed.

"As if anyone would be insane enough to marry you," Chūya snapped. He grabbed two clean glasses and filled them with water. He set one down in front of Dazai, who gulped it down quickly. "I don't even want to know how dehydrated you are."

"Ah, I guess I'm lucky to have you around, even if you have no bedside manner," Dazai said.

Chūya scowled and tried to ignore the way his cheeks were flushing. "Don't get too used to it. This is the last time I'm doing this. Next time I'll leave you to rot."

"So mean," Dazai whined. "I think you really just want to get me naked."

Now his face was definitely red. "Shut up! Nobody wants to see your ugly body!"

Dazai tilted his head up toward Chūya, who had to fight the urge to back away. Why was he still standing next to Dazai anyway? There was a small little smile on Dazai's ugly, stupid face. Chūya scowled in response.

"Oh, what a cruel world it is that the only person who sees me undress is you, instead of a beautiful woman," Dazai said, letting out a loud, dramatic sigh.

Chūya slapped the back of Dazai's head, and the other boy let out a yelp.

"Ouch! I'm being abused!" Dazai cried. "You're so cruel."

"And you're so annoying. If you can be this mouthy, you're fine to be on your own. Food's on the way, your sheets are in the washer," Chūya told him, beginning to walk away.

A hand grasping his wrist stopped him. Chūya noted Dazai's fingers were warm now. They had been cold earlier.

"Nope, you gotta stay here and entertain me," Dazai demanded. "Even your annoying presence is better than being bored."

"Ugh, you're so needy," Chūya complained. "Fine, I'll stay but I'm eating half your food when it gets here."

Dazai finally released Chūya's wrist, and Chūya slumped down into the chair across from Dazai's. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Even shitty Dazai was better company than being alone. Besides, he might as well make sure that Dazai wasn't going to backslide right away. It would be annoying having to go through all this again.

He let himself be drawn into another argument with Dazai, and denied that he enjoyed any of this at all.

Noiz: Where to begin? I've had so little time to write, but I just finished school last week. I'm starting a fulltime job tomorrow, but having no homework should, in theory, mean more writing time.

Aviantei had me watch bungo with them and now I've got a new hyperfixation. When is this set? Idk, just at some vague point after Age 15 and before the Dark Age. Written for the Twelve Shots of Summer challenge! I'm quite behind but oh well.

I didn't tell Avi I've been writing this so I'm looking forward to their reaction once they get notified of me posting~

Oh, and title is from "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons.