Soukoku One-Shots

Die Tomorrow, But Marry Me Tonight

Dark Era

The night's mission took longer than either of them had expected. Who knew taking out an enemy organization overnight would be so much work? They'd hoped to be finished by midnight, but it was now nearing three in the morning and they were both exhausted, covered in blood, and looking more than worse for wear.

Unfortunately, they'd underestimated the amount of intel the opponent had about them. They'd accommodated their strengths and honed in on their weaknesses, which caused a few unforeseen complications that they had to work around and forced them to adapt their strategy midway through the bloodbath. That was both irritating and very difficult when one also had to concentrate on not getting shot.

Fortunately, they were Double-Black.

"Stop squirming or I can't finish the stitches," Dazai muttered, brows furrowed in concentration as he poked at the ends of Chuuya's wound to thread the stitches through.

"Don't tell me what to do," was the pained hiss he got in reply. When Dazai flicked his gaze up to Chuuya's face—very briefly, so he didn't mess up his handiwork—he found the redhead biting down on the insides of his cheeks and gritting his teeth, clearly in pain.

It made sense. Corruption, which was only used for a few minutes, took a serious toll on Chuuya. Without the regular defenses his body would put up against pain like this, he was likely feeling everything very deeply and very vividly. It didn't help that the gash Dazai was currently sewing together was sliced with a knife laced with some kind of nerve-modifier solution and while temporary, was certainly still in effect.

Dazai huffed a small chuckle. "Chuuya's so stingy."

"Just finish the job, bastard."

He did. It didn't take long to finish the last few stitches and tie them off before applying more numbing cream, which Chuuya insisted he didn't need even though they both knew that was a lie. When he'd finished, Dazai put away the first aid kit, brushed off his bloodstained black slacks, and slung an arm around Chuuya's waist to help him out of the alleyway they'd ducked into, despite Chuuya's insistence that he could walk and that he didn't need help from idiot mackerels. They both knew he didn't, technically, but Dazai didn't want Chuuya to reopen his stitches. That's what Dazai told him, anyway.

It only took about ten minutes before they ended up at some kind of park. All of their communications had been destroyed in the fight and the extraction point was at least another three miles from where Dazai and Chuuya were now, so they found themselves slumped on a park bench instead, huffing and puffing like they'd just run across the entire city.

But then Dazai felt a weight on his shoulder and looked down to see Chuuya leaning on him with eyes half-closed and brows furrowed slightly. His hair looked impossibly soft just then, bathed in the gentle silver glow of the moonlight (and despite the blood and dirt caking it, along with the rest of him and Dazai both.)

"Well, that certainly could have gone better," Dazai sighed, looking back up at the sky. He feared the things that might've come out of his mouth instead had he continued to take in the sight of Chuuya next to him.

His partner snorted at that. "No shit." He shifted slightly, following Dazai's gaze up to the sea of stars above them. "But it could've been a lot worse, too." Chuuya shrugged. "We could be dead." Dazai hummed, face spreading into a knowing smile, but Chuuya beat him to the punch. "Don't you fucking say it," he grumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I can't deal with your bullshit right now."

Dazai huffed a quiet laugh and, ever-so-carefully, leaned over to rest his cheek against the top of Chuuya's head. His partner didn't shift, didn't move away, and Dazai wasn't sure if he could chalk it up to exhaustion or something else. He decided not to think about it.