Would You Defy Gravity for Me? (TBD hiatus)

CHAPTER 7: Its Not Gay Panic if You're Not Gay

    5 years, 10 months before Atsushi Nakajima wins gold at the World Figure Skating Championships.

    Dazai woke up to something warm wrapped around his middle. It was a soothing, comfortable warm. In the lingering haze of unconsciousness, he almost wanted to pull the presence closer. His hand threaded through soft, silky hair.
    That was when Chuuya snored.
    It was a soft, quiet snort (which, thinking back to it later, reminded Dazai of a sleeping puppy), but in the moment it caused reality to slam back into Dazai as his eyes snapped open. He was in his bed, in his apartment. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the room. His cheek was pressed to the soft linen of Chuuya's shirt, and when he breathed in, he smelled like the sun- warm and comforting. Like chamomile tea. There was a small, traitorous voice in the back of Dazai's mind that wanted to let his eyes slide shut, let himself lean into Chuuya's warmth, to press his face closer into his chest just to listen to his heart-
    Dazai tugged himself out of Chuuya's arms, pushing away the impulsive thoughts that were a little more enticing than he was comfortable with. The second he pulled away, the familiar cold creept back into him. He glanced back at Chuuya, who's face was buried in the pillow. Dazai's pillow. Dazai quickly looked away from the redhead's face (which was DEFINITELY not adorable when he was asleep, not in the SLIGHTEST), and instead busied himself with finding clothes for the day.

    Chuuya woke up alone. Surrounded by the smell of Dazai, but no irritating partner to be found. He sat up, trying to figure out where he was. After a few seconds of groggily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, everything from night before came back to him. He pushed his bangs out of his face (they were getting long, it would be a good idea to get a haircut soon) and untangled himself from the nest of Dazai's blankets that were wrapped around him. Figuring that Dazai was in the shower, he made his way to the kitchen.
    Chuuya was flipping a batch of pancakes onto a plate when the brunet walked in, pushing his damp hair off of his forehead. "What are you doing?"
    Chuuya set the plate of pancakes on the table. "Making breakfast. What do you think?"
    Dazai blinked. He didn't have breakfast often- he was usually either too tired or busy to bother making it in the morning. He picked up a pancake, moving to take a bite out of it dry, but froze at Chuuya's cry.
    "You heathen! Atleast eat it with butter or syrup, dumbass," the redhead shouted, angrily waving his spatula at Dazai.
    Dazai sighed, rolling his eyes, "What, so now you're ordering me around in my own kitchen?" Despite his complaint, he went to grab the syrup from the pantry.

    Neither of them mentioned what had happened the night before as they sat down at the table. They barely spoke as they ate, but it was more of a comfortable silence than an awkward one. It was too early in the morning for conversation, anyways. Afterwards, Chuuya silently helped him put on a fresh roll of bandages, before heading back to his own apartment to get ready for mid day practice with Kouyou.   

    Darkness filled the room. Dazai stared at his ceiling, figuring that the black that stretched out above him was better than what was behind his eyelids. The music playing through the headphones wasn't doing its job of keeping the thoughts away, like it usually did. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make his mind be quiet. It was never quiet- hadn't been truly quiet in years- but for some reason, it had been more tolerable last night. When he had fallen asleep next to Chuuya.
     It was weird- usually he laid in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the lull of sleep, until he gave up and played video games until the sun began to come up or passed out over a cheap bottle of booze. But when he'd laid in bed with nothing to quiet his thoughts but the steady sound of Chuuya's breaths beside him, he'd fallen asleep within minutes. It was infuriating. He hated Chuuya- at least, he kept telling himself that. So why was his presence so comforting? Dazai was fine with being alone. He'd always been alone. So why was he craving the company of someone else? Especially someone he was supposed to detest?
    He groaned, pressing his fingers to his temples. He knew what he was about to do, but that didn't mean he didn't hate himself any less for it.