Drunk Teen Actions

4

When Osamu returned to Chuuya's home yet again, bringing with him some things of his own from his apartment, the redhead was humming along to some english rock song with his hair in a bun as he cooked.

"Oi Mackerel," Chuuya called, seemingly as if he had forgotten the events that transcended the night before. "Come taste this, I'm experimenting."

Osamu complied, opening his mouth for the food filled utensil once he got to Chuuya. He was suddenly thrown back into a strong and prominent memory from the past.

"Oi Mackerel," Chuuya had said in the same way as in the present. "Come taste this, I wanted to try making a foreign dish."

"Why not stick to the traditional Kouyou taught you? I'd rather not suffer food poisoning."

"Shut up. Just taste it, Shitty Dazai," sixteen year old Chuuya muttered, holding out a small plate.

"Fine," Dazai had sighed before taking a tentative bite. "Decent I suppose. I guess it wouldn't give me food poisoning."

Chuuya grinned, that was praise in Dazai's language. Dazai hadn't been truthful though, it had tasted amazing to him and he wanted more of it.

Chuuya eyed Osamu's expression as he pulled away with the food in his mouth.

"You've gotten better," Osamu said, savoring the lingering taste on his tongue after swallowing to give Chuuya his answer.

He received the same beam he had received that day nearly six years ago and Chuuya turned back to the pan. Osamu was reminded of his earlier mission when coming back here, to make sure Chuuya was okay. And given how just his entrance was, he feared that this was some sort of illusion.

"Sit down, dinner will be ready in a minute," Chuuya said, not looking up.

"One thing first," Osamu said.

Chuuya sighed, removing the meal from the heat and turned off the stove, rolling his eyes as he turned to face Osamu.

"And what is this one thing?"

The redhead let out an indignant squawk as he felt two fingers jab into his side as Osamu smirked.

"Osamu, for-"

"Language, dear Chibi."

"Osamu, for sexual intercourse's sake-"

"What the f-"

"Language, Mackerel," Chuuya interrupted with a smirk.

"Touche."

"Now sit down, I have a few more things to do to prepare dinner."

"Yes Chibi~" Osamu sang as he made his way to the dining table with a small skip in his step. Chuuya was real, and he was letting him back into his home even after last night, and tonight, Osamu was determined to not make the same mistakes he did last night, or for the last four years.

Dinner, once served, was a quiet affair. Chuuya pulled out paperwork, not seeming to care that he was dealing with mafia affairs in front of an enemy. Osamu made no move to take advantage of it. Instead, he blatantly watched Chuuya. The redhead was too enveloped in the work to notice Osamu's gaze on him.

The easy domesticity of a quiet dinner was something Osamu hadn't anticipated after last night's debacle but didn't dislike in the slightest. The small twinges of irritation on particular work forms that formed on Chuuya's face were amusing to Osamu. The quiet rustle of papers and the scratch of the pen was the only thing heard other than eating, and it was relaxing. Lonely nights in his ADA issued dorm wasn't something Osamu felt he could go back to. It was just another reason that perhaps, despite the risk of Mori, he would stick around in Chuuya's life as more than just an enemy.

Osamu finished the meal long before Chuuya, and when Chuuya eventually finished, Osamu gathered the plates before Chuuya could make the move to do so. Chuuya's eyes followed him as he took the dishes to the sink and began cleaning up.

"You're acting weird," Chuuya said after a while of watching. Osamu didn't look up from the task of washing the dishes.

"You made the dinner, so I'm cleaning it up."

"You never willingly do work."

Osamu didn't need to look at Chuuya to know his eyes were narrowed and boring into him.

"Then aren't you lucky I'm feeling generous enough to help today," Osamu said in his regular playful tone.

"Bullshit. You were acting weird last night too. Not even counting the night before last. What is it that you want."

Osamu froze. He hadn't anticipated for Chuuya to so bluntly put his strange behavior forward, though he supposed it should've been expected. Chuuya was Chuuya after all. He removed the cleaning gloves and carefully set them aside so they didn't soak the counter with soap suds. And with that, he carefully turned round. Chuuya was only a couple feet behind him when he turned, Osamu supposed he used his ability so as to not make a sound.

"I-" Osamu hesitated. Would admitting the fact he was trying to make up for the four years he had been missing in anyway he could end with him being kicked out? It's a rather difficult thing to try to make up for and just doing the dishes really doesn't do much.

"You what? Don't think I've seen you this hesitant before. What the hell are you not saying?" Chuuya growled, stepping closer with a glare that promised violence.

"I want to make up for it all," Osamu finally stumbled out.

"Make up for it all?" Chuuya asked, voice quiet, a stark contrast to the growling. His expression shared how off guard he had been caught by that statement.

"The four years, the lies, everything. I want to find a way to make up for it all," Osamu said, reaching forward. Chuuya slapped the hand away, his expression hardening.

"You break into my apartment, you taunt me, and you do my dishes after four years of silence after you abandoned me and you think I'll just forgive you? That suddenly everything you've done to hurt me will be made up for because you "feel bad". Maybe I just want you out of my life, ever think of that?" Chuuya spat.

"I have."

"Then why, Osamu! Why do you force yourself back into my life? I was perfectly fine without you!"

"Because I'm not."

Anything else Chuuya was about to say was replaced with wide eyes and a quiet, "what?"

"I'm not fine without you."