Clandestine

lies

They eased into it, day by day.

And no one was really around to notice either.

Fyodor and Dazai went back into their normal schedule of working while Tachihara went out with friends to practice, (something Chuuya started turning down). Chuuya found himself to be quite lonely.

It was only because of that reason that he decided to walk to Shirase's home and sit with him.

There were changes, Shirase hadn't been lying when he said that. When they did their gatherings and everyone drank, Chuuya was glad to see the way Shirase stopped at two bottles of beer, even if everyone else kept going. Chuuya was especially surprised when Shirase's friend had brought some cocaine and offered the man some, only for him to refuse.

He did eye the powder carefully though, wishful eyes brimmed with want and desire but one look at Chuuya and he pulled back from his desires.

Chuuya was glad about that.

They smoked weed though. But with the effects that it has, Chuuya wasn't nervous. Weed is a calmant, it numbs your body, makes you sleepy in some cases. There are some individuals who end up being hyper, Chuuya was sometimes one of them, but not often.

Regardless, knowing that weed had a calming effect meant that he didn't need to worry about Shirase's anger.

Shirase also treated him with kindness.

Most would have considered it the bare minimum, a hug here and there, an occasional waist grab to pull him closer.

But Chuuya had no other relationship to model after, he thought he was being treated like a king.

Three days had passed since then, and Chuuya yet again found himself sitting behind the desk at the library, he was trying to divide his time between his boyfriend and his best friend fairly. He noticed that Dazai was bouncing his leg and chewing on the end of his pen, eyes transfixed on the computer in thought, surely library work didn't require that much concentration, he was essentially babysitting books all day.

"What are you doing?" He asked, shifting around so that his knees were slightly spread out, while perched up on the desk, comfortably. "I mean, I get you like working here but you look like you did when we were taking our finals," Chuuya kept his gaze transfixed on him, he had to admit he looked quite pretty when he was concentrating.

Dazai put the pen down and exhaled, but he didn't look away from the computer screen, eye brows furrowing in contempt, "I'm writing," he lowered his ahead and ran his hands through it "It's killing me."

"So... the grade on the essay turned out alright then?" Chuuya asked, remembering the anxiety the poor man had when he had to hand in his literature essay to Ango "You stressed yourself out for no fucking reason then?"

Dazai looked at him unimpressed "Yeah... kinda? I've got reason to stress now though."

"And why's that?"

"I'm writing the final messy draft of my novel, if this isn't good enough Oda won't propose my idea to the publisher's," Dazai looked around at the library "I've done everything for this, worked and got good grades, volunteered at libraries, editing companies, I need to make this good."

Chuuya smiled at him "There isn't much you can't do Samu, take it from someone who's outside of the box you're in," Chuuya glanced at the top left corner of the screen, where the word count sat, he couldn't really see it well from where he was sitting but it was well over one hundred thousands words. "What's this one called then? Got a name?'

Dazai scoffed "Yeah, feels a bit shitty though."

"Go on."

"The rising moon."