Everything or Nothing

Sex Education

Summary:
The boys share an 'educational' experience.
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Chuuya scrambles out of his arms at around ten in the morning with several apologies and a rushed explanation about body heat.

Dazai is true to his word in the sense that he doesn't bring it up—not even once. And their relationship—which, before, could have been described as combative at best, hostile at worst—begins to shift.

The first step is when Chuuya buys Dazai breakfast that morning—a reluctant act of gratitude that the brunette insists isn't necessary.

The next, when Dazai invites Chuuya out with his own friends and actually teaches him how to drink—more than just awkward, rushed tequila shots in a dive bar.

"You don't like it?" The taller boy laughs when Chuuya's face scrunches up, licking beer foam off of his lips. "It's the sweetest thing they have on tap here."

"It tastes—" Chuuya makes this tiny, over dramatic little gagging face that leaves Nikolai horribly offended, but Dazai can silently acknowledge that it's adorable, "—like stale bread."

Gogol sniffs, clinging to Fyodor's arm, "You acquire a taste for it!" He protests, looking utterly insulted. "But it's made out of wheat, so obviously it's going to taste a little like--"

Fyodor shushes him by cramming a handful of pretzels in his mouth, rolling his eyes as his boyfriend chews on them sulkily. "People can have different tastes, love—relax—"

But Fyodor does notice how indulgent Dazai's gaze is when the redhead isn't looking.

"Is there a guy you like or something?"

"Here, try this one next—"

"Are those feelings going away?"

"Blech—DAZAI, why would you tell me to drink that?! That was NASTY—"

Dazai's answering laughter is enough to tell Chuuya that he's being a dick, "I—wanted to see if you'd spit it out—!"

And he did, so Dazai's predictions, as usual, come true.

"That tasted like actual garbage!"

"You can say shit, you know." Dazai smirks, leaning his chin on his hand. Chuuya notices how close their faces are and his eyes widen slightly in annoyance and embarrassment as he leans away.

"I know." He mutters, squirming, and Dazai leans closer.

"It's okay, we can sound it out, 'shhhh—"

Chuuya's eyes narrow into a glare, even if he's maroon. "Shhhhut up."

They still bicker. All the time.

"Chuuya!" Dazai whines, hanging upside down from the side of his bed with annoyance. "Yuan said I could try one!"

"Face mask Fridays are our thing, asshole!"

"But!"

"No buts!" Chuuya glares, crossing his arms over his chest as he tries to return to his zen, his hair pulled up in a bun with one of Yuan's fuzzy green scrunchies, a blue sheet mask in place while his friend paints his toenails. "Besides, just because she's single now doesn't mean I'm gonna let the first creep that's interested mess around with our routine!"

"If I was interested I would be doing something a little more manly than asking to do a face mask with her!" Dazai groans.

"You mean you're not interested?" Yuan lifts her head, pretending to look very hurt, "Am I ugly or something? I thought you were into anyone with tits and a can do attitude—"