Drunk Teen Actions

1

Being married in Chuuya's case did not mean a happy white wedding. Instead, it was a drunken night after a mission at eighteen that he tried hard to forget. The one who presided the marriage was too scared of their positions to tell them they couldn't and the two people they plucked off the street to witness included someone who owed a favor and a complete stranger who didn't exactly care to say no to the marriage.

The only reason Chuuya was aware of his blackout drunk decision was when he woke up to his bastard of a husband's taunting voice as he waved the marriage certificate in the air for Chuuya to see. The very same bastard refused to let Chuuya destroy the godforsaken thing with a grin, declaring it the best way to make sure Chuuya stayed his dog. The one he married, Osamu Dazai, had it framed and took it with him when he left the mafia only a short time after.

He resurfaced 4 years later in the Mafia's dungeon. Chuuya was slightly disappointed at the sight. He doubted the asshole was dead but that didn't mean he wanted him back in his life. The situation was only worsened by the fact he had to then rescue Q with Dazai, putting his life in that smug bastard's hands again by using corruption.

And that brings us to now. Chuuya had gotten back to the extraction point no thanks to Dazai, and he was finally able to go home. He stopped as he realized his front door was unlocked. Pushing the door open with his foot, Chuuya activated his ability.

A tan coat on the coat hanger caught his eye and he deactivated it with a growl.

"The hell are you doing here?" Chuuya asked as he slipped off his shoes and removed his hat and coat, hanging them beside the tan coat.

"Chibi! Can't one drop by to check on their husband?"

"Not one who disappeared for four years," Chuuya snapped. He whirled around to where Dazai's voice had come from. "Get the fuck out of my house, Dazai."

"We're in private you know, if you're gonna call me by my last name, better call me by the right one."

Oh, that smug asshole.

Chuuya's eyebrow twitched with his growing irritation. His name may legally not be Dazai anymore, unknown to practically anyone but the two at this point, but it didn't mean he had to call him that.

"Osamu Nakahara~" the tall man sang, getting annoyingly close to Chuuya.

"One more word out of you and I will kick you out rather than ask," Chuuya growled out in return.

"But I wanted to see if you were okay."

Despite the playful tone, Chuuya noted that he sounded rather genuine.

"Of course I am. You can leave now."

That was a lie. Chuuya was in a lot of pain from the aftermath of corruption. And from the frown on the home intruder's face, Dazai knew it too. The fact that Dazai was still in his house was probably indication enough to the man that Chuuya was out of it.

"Chuuya, we both know that's a lie," Dazai said softly. Chuuya didn't even put up a fight as he was pulled to Dazai's chest. Instead, he slumped against it and allowed Dazai to loop his arms under his knees, pulling him up and off his feet, relieving some of the pain that had come from merely standing on his sore joints and muscles.

"Thanks," Chuuya mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. If his head hadn't been currently on Dazai's shoulder, the other probably wouldn't have caught it.

They may be somewhat enemies at work, but there was still that trust that lay between them. And at the end of the day, Chuuya was in pain and Osamu Dazai--nay, Osamu Nakahara was the only one who knew what Chuuya needed after corruption.

The evening was silent as Osamu helped Chuuya into something more comfortable and laid him in his bed. A cup of tea was brought to Chuuya and Osamu sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you doing okay now?" Osamu asked. Chuuya was silent for a moment.

"Did I worry you?" The silence Chuuya received told him all he needed to know. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm okay now."

"I'll leave then," Osamu said. He got to his feet but froze.

Chuuya's hand had grabbed his and lightly pulled him back. The redhead's gaze bore into his tea that was halfway drunk, refusing to look at Osamu.

"Please." Stay was left unsaid but it lingered in the silence that followed all the same. He had spent four years without his partner, he hated admitting he wanted him back. He wouldn't go as far as to say he needed Osamu but his presence in life was appreciated. Someone who could get on his every nerve shouldn't be someone he misses. But that someone also knew Chuuya possibly better than he knew himself after working together since both were fifteen. He had been there through many stages of his teenaged phases, and was-- albeit drunk--willing to say "I do" at 18 and had yet to file for a divorce even now that they were 22 and very much sober.

Osamu pulled his hand away gently and Chuuya pretended as if the action didn't drive a sharp pain through his chest. But then Chuuya noticed him grab a t-shirt and sleep pants from the drawer of sleepwear. It was something of Osamu's that Chuuya hadn't been able to bring himself to throw away after his betrayal. He looked away in a mixture of embarrassment at realizing Osamu knew Chuuya kept his things, and respecting Osamu's preference to not be looked at when changing, self conscious over his bandages.

Osamu wordlessly climbed into the double bed beside Chuuya, pulling the redhead close as to allow him to lay his head on his bandaged shoulder. Chuuya smiled slightly into his tea as he sipped it.

A few sips later, he finished the tea and they slid down till their heads were on the pillows. Osamu still kept him close, much to his surprise. The strange affection though was not unwanted.

"Thank you...Osamu," Chuuya said before letting sleep overtake him.