Everything or Nothing
CatacylsmicEvents
Chapter 34: you'll always be there
Notes:
tw // existential dread, discussions of death, discussions of potentially terminal illness
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They make it home not long after, with Chuuya striding off, mentioning something about needing a shower, and Dazai lets him.
He isn’t oblivious to why the redhead is upset, he just isn’t willing to give him what he wants, and for that reason he opts to give him space instead.
For the time being, it seems like his boyfriend is willing to take that opportunity to cool down. He’s gone for over an hour, and if he needs to sulk, fine, Dazai can settle down in the living room with a book.
Which isn’t the worst thing for Dazai, either—because it gives him time to calm down as well, and with all of the built up tension...he kind of needs to.
It’s an hour and a half later when the door to the living room creaks open, and when Dazai glances up over the top of his book, he finds his boyfriend standing in the doorway, looking a lot calmer, with a slightly reconciliatory expression that makes Dazai think that giving him space worked.
It should really be said that he was lured into a false sense of security.
“I’m sorry I snapped, earlier.” Chuuya mutters, lowering his chin. “I’ve never been good about...accepting my situation."
Obviously not, and he already explained that much to Dazai before, when it came to why it took Chuuya so long to tell him the truth. And Dazai often finds himself struggling to accept it, so he can't really imagine how hard it is for Chuuya.
"...I get it," he sighs, lowering the book slightly, and the fact that he doesn't sound frustrated or angry seems to make his boyfriend relax. "Wanna order dinner? Or I could call Hirotsu and have him make something—"
"Well," Chuuya cuts him off, stepping inside the room fully, "I'm kinda tired from everything, so...could I just sit with you for a little while?"
Dazai understands why he's asking, given the fact that he practically had to pull Chuuya off of him with a crowbar in the car, and he appreciates it.
However.
Now that Chuuya is actually standing where Dazai can see all of him, he notices the fact that Chuuya is wearing an oversized t-shirt, one of Dazai's, big enough that it slips off of one shoulder. And that isn't the issue, Chuuya wearing his shirts has become a normal, welcome sight at this point.
It's the fact that Chuuya's thighs are bare. The sight of which Dazai has already had to subject himself to today in front of an entire room of photographers and assistants—
"Before I say yes," Dazai cautions, raising one finger, "are you wearing underwear?"
It's the fact that Chuuya has the nerve (so much nerve, if Dazai knew, but love and concern can blind the most cynical person) to sound annoyed, even a little offended, that makes this situation a little ironic. "Yes, Dazai, I'm wearing underwear."
And now, feeling (unfairly) chagrined, Dazai relents, sealing his fate. "Then of course you can."
Chuuya smiles a little from what Dazai interprets as relief, padding across the room and climbing up on the couch next to him, getting comfortable against Dazai's side.
And it is nice. Chuuya has one arm thrown loosely around Dazai's stomach, his head resting against his chest. It is relaxing, settling in like that with a book, Chuuya half dozing in his arms—added with the warmth from the fire, it feels downright cozy.
