hmmm so this is basically my favourite chapter of the whole fic, so everything before and after it is just... shit. this is relatively decent shit, though. c':

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Dazai opened his eyes, he confusedly blinked a few times before he finally recognised where he was. The mafia's infirmary. His body hurt all over, especially his head ached like hell. How did he get here? What happened to him? He tried to sit up, his body heavily protesting. As he looked around the infirmary for a familiar face, he noticed a small form, sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Chuuya?" 

He asked, his soft voice a little hoarse and raspy. 

The cobalt blue eyes shot open. First, joy was seen in them. Though, they quickly changed into burning anger. Chuuya stood up and hurried to the bed. From what Dazai saw, he looked tired and sloppy. Purple eye bags framed his eyes and he wasn't dressed like he usually was, only wearing his simple black trousers and a white button-up. 

Before he knew what was happening, Dazai felt a hard slap across his face, causing his cheek to burn and his lip to bleed. He groaned, tasting the coppery liquid on his lips. He confusedly stared at the small form before him, whose face was slowly turning red from anger. For a second, Dazai was actually afraid Chuuya would lose control and use his ability on him. 

"You're such a fucking piece of shit, Osamu Dazai!"

Chuuya accused Dazai angrily. His voice rang painfully in Dazai's ears. The brunette's eyes grew wide as he saw that the man was crying. He had never seen Chuuya crying, even if they were just tears of pure anger. The small man didn't seem to notice the tears staining his face and continued with his waterfall of words.

"How dare you fucking overdose and then jump of a fucking building just because... I refused to have sex with you that night? You know, you almost did it this time, you almost fucking died. Con-fucking-gratulations, Dazai." 

Chuuya sneered.

"They said it's a goddamn miracle that your only injuries are a broken arm, several internal bleedings, four broken ribs that caused a punctured long, and not to forget a severe concussion. They also told me it is a fucking miracle created by God himself that you don't have any severe brain damage."

Distraught Dazai listened to the words, trying to make sense of them. Then, everything came back to him. The memories of that night swirling in his head, making him dizzy and nauseous.

Chuuya's Corruption. The cheap motel room. Whiskey. The urge to end it all. Chuuya's beauty. Light skin. Soft hair. Dark hickeys. The feverish kiss. Sweet taste of Chuuya's lips. Denial. Threats. Even more whiskey. Even more pills. The moonlit roof of a skyscraper. The toes of his shoes already over the edge. Endless falling.

He almost did it. He almost ended it all.

"You know how worried I was? I tried to follow you that night. I fucking searched the whole fucking city, only to find you somewhere half-dead in an alleyway next to a goddamn skyscraper. I had to drag your bleeding body all over here, not knowing if you would make it!" 

Chuuya cried out, the thought of how hopeless he had felt causing his shoulders to shock. The brunette watched him, still confused. His head still throbbed painfully and all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn't want to deal with his angry partner in crime.

"Why would you care? You hate me."

He implied, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. If only Chuuya would just go away. 

"Yes, I hate you! I hate how you just run off to kill yourself, leaving me to worry for a very long two weeks. I hate you for not telling your own partner that you're not okay. I hate how you give me all these mixed signals. I hate how you look at me with those eyes, as if I'm the most beautiful thing in the goddamn world, when we both know I'm not. I hate how you always know how to make me angry. I hate how you know me through and through. I hate how you made me feel that night, when I genuinely thought you were perhaps as in love with me as I was with you." 

The auburn haired man cried out, his voice shaking and barely a whisper at the end. 

"And oh, goddammit, how much hatred I feel towards you for making me say those words, Dazai!"

He yelled, covering his face with his small hands. Chuuya fell to the floor, sobbing, hiccupping and making choking-like noises. His shoulders were shaking and he seemed even smaller than usually. Dazai stared at the sight before him. He never had seen his partner acting so vulnerable like this. Yet, it was another side of Chuuya he found mesmerizingly beautiful. He wanted to get up and just hold Chuuya, telling him that everything was going to be all right, that he was indeed in love with him. 

Even though it was the truth that Dazai indeed had fallen in love with Chuuya, he still couldn't say it, a thick lump in his throat. He always had been called emotionless, heartless, a demonic dog of the mafia. He was known as a twisted-minded suicidal maniac, obsessed with his own death. Was he really capable of love? He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words in his confused mind.

"Chuuya." 

He just whispered, watching as the other frantically dried his tears and wiped his nose.

"What?" 

The redhead answered in a broken voice. Chuuya felt ashamed for showing this side to Dazai. 

"Come here... please." 

Dazai mumbled a bit shyly. He patted the bed, making it an open invitation towards Chuuya. He started making place for the redhead, groaning softly as every muscle and every bone in his body screamed in protest, but he couldn't care less. 

Rather timidly Chuuya crawled into the into the single bed, a red blush on his face. Only now Chuuya realised he basically confessed his feelings towards the brunette. He never really thought about what would happen once Dazai would wake up, because they weren't sure if he'd ever wake up. But he never thought he would confess his feelings towards Dazai and then proceed to accompany him in an infirmary-bed. 

Once Chuuya was in the bed, Dazai managed to get on his side, so he was directly facing his partner. Chuuya copied the act, so the two of them were now inches away from each other, blue eyes staring into brown ones. Dazai used his not broken arm to reach out and cup doll-like face, his thumb wiping away the tears that were still coming from his partner's eyes. He pulled the smaller form closer, placing a soft kiss on Chuuya's lips, before burying his face in the auburn curls. He breathed in deeply, his ribs and lungs protesting, but the rather familiar smell calming him down.

"I'm so sorry."

Dazai mumbled, not knowing what else he could say to make things better. 

"You better be, asshole." 

Chuuya whispered, even though with a small smile present on his lips. He buried his face deeply in the crook of Dazai's neck. After a while of silence, the tears stopped coming and Chuuya felt himself finally calm down. The past two weeks of Dazai's unconsciousness had been like drowning and now he was finally able to breathe again.

"I'm just glad you're okay." 

Chuuya said softly, before he lazily placed a sloppy kiss on Dazai's neck. 

"I missed hating you so much."

He hummed, after placing another butterfly kiss on the brunette's skin.

"And sorry for the bitch slap."

He chuckled softly, rather ashamed of how he had hit the already wounded Dazai so hard. Dazai, too tired to speak, just sighed contently. He forgot about the pain and just enjoyed Chuuya's feather light touches. Soon, he was fast asleep. 

Chuuya placed a kiss on Dazai's forehead, whispering him goodnight. He couldn't help but smile when he saw how boyish Dazai looked while asleep. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Dazai was actually younger than him, since the brunette already had so many responsibilities at such a young age. It was easy to forget that Dazai still was just a kid, even though a kid with a drinking problem that soon would be the boss of the Port Mafia.

They were both still kids, in a really fucked up world. But Chuuya didn't mind, since he had Dazai and Dazai had him. They were a team, Soukoku. 

They always would be a team. 

Double Black, in an even darker world.