Tempus Fugit

Is the meaning of happiness really necessary when I know I'm truly happy?

"Recognize this room, mon petite mafia?"

"Course I do, how could I forget? My dimwit detective. It's the room future you painted in."

"So what do you say? This is the one right?"

"Yes, this is the one. I don't think I'd be able to give up this room just to change the future we saw, especially considering I barely remember any of it."

Dazai leaned against the window ledge, looking at the empty room that stood before him.

"Sometimes I wish we could go back to the day we went to the future, like you said, I don't remember much, but I do remember how happy I was in those two weeks"

Chuuya came from behind and copied the pose he was standing in, though he stared up at his boyfriend rather than the room.

"I'm sure we can recreate that happiness, right?"

"Definitely. I can't want to have everyone over and celebrate, they'll be pleased to see we're finally living together rather than rushing from each other's apartments late because we slept late."

Chuuya laughed covering his mouth with his hand, head leaning against Dazai's shoulder, the touch making Dazai's shoulder tingle, even if it had been a year, he'd never bore of Chuuya's touch.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and then got up, looking at his rosy-cheeked, giggly partner, "Come on then, let's go buy our future home."

Chuuya smiled at him, fixing his hat as he got up, he then walked over to Dazai, snuck his hand in his pocket and interlaced their fingers

"You better paint me."

"Only if you write me cheesy poems~"

"Ack, you're so annoying, they're embarrassing."

"You say that but you smile like an idiot when you write about me."

"I- well- whatever, it's not my fault you make me happy."

"hmmm, you make me happy too Chuuya. Past me, Present me and Future me."