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‘I’ll be okay, Atsushi. Trust me.’
He had to trust Dazai.
Feeling around the surface of his nightstand, fingers brushing over bottles of medication and his reading glasses and Dazai’s things haphazardly strewn about, his hand came to rest atop the cold, smooth surface of his phone.
Atsushi’s eyes fluttered open as he grabbed the phone, clutching it to his chest like a child holding their favorite toy. Out of instinct, he glanced towards the alarm clock on the back of the nightstand, its angry red numbers glaring at him through the gray darkness that had befallen the room.
1:32 AM.
Dazai still hadn’t returned home.
Atsushi’s heart immediately began to pound in his chest, and his mind swirled with horrible thoughts about what could’ve possibly happened to Dazai.
What if he’d been killed, and died bleeding out on the cold concrete floor of some abandoned warehouse? What if, in his last moments, as his last breath was squeezed from his lungs and the light in his playful amber eyes finally extinguished, he longed to see his husband’s face one last time? What if he’d wished to die in Atsushi’s warm, loving embrace instead of alone and in pain, blood pooling onto the linoleum beneath him?
Or what if he’d been critically injured, and had been taken to the hospital without Atsushi even knowing? What if, as he struggled to keep a grip on the last fluttering wisps of his consciousness, alone and terrified, called out Atsushi’s name, only to hear no response?
‘I’ll leave my phone on, so call me if you need anything!’ Dazai had said as he brushed a small lock of silver hair from his husband’s face, voice chipper as it always was.
Atsushi glanced down at his phone, a wave of anxiety swelling up in his chest as he opened his lock screen, terrified that he might see a hundred texts and voice messages from his friends and colleagues about how sorry they were for his loss, or how Dazai had been injured in an accidental encounter with the Port Mafia, or how a stray bullet had struck him in the chest and killed him.
He let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding when his lock screen flickered to life and he saw only one notification, a reminder he’d set for himself that reminded him not to worry; to take deep breaths and to try and go back to sleep. Behind the notification, Atsushi’s lock screen projected a picture himself and Dazai had taken at their wedding of the two of them holding one another close and showing off their wedding rings to the camera. It made Atsushi’s heart flutter, and the anxiety that had been piled up in his chest just moments ago dissipated.
Almost, that is, as a small inkling of doubt still lingered in his mind.
What if Dazai hadn’t contacted him because he had no service, or maybe his phone had been crushed or taken by his abductor? What if nobody else from the Agency even remained awake so late as to receive an emergency call from a colleague begging for help, or even a call from the authorities saying they’d found a body?
Upon hurriedly typing in his password, Atsushi once again found his hands shaking, edges of his vision blurring with a creeping blackness.
Tapping on the name ‘Osamu💕’, Atsushi kept his phone in a white-knuckled vice-grip as the dial tone rang out through the room.
With every intermittent low beep, Atsushi felt dread’s icy hand encroach further and further into his very soul, terror wrapping its clawed fingers around his heart.
“Atsushi? Is everything alright?” Dazai’s voice flowed like smooth honey from the phone’s speaker, causing hot tears to prick the corner of Atsushi’s eyes.
“F-Fine. I just...lying here without you beside me doesn’t feel right.” Atsushi’s voice tumbled hoarsely from his lips as a warm stream of tears rolled steadily down his cheeks and onto his pillow, glinting like sharp silver daggers beneath the moonlight leaking in through the thin curtains.
“I know. The good news is, the case is finally finished. Everything went off without a hitch. Kunikida-san and I are heading back to the station now.” Dazai sounded so calm, yet the exhaustion in his voice could be heard plainly even through the distortion created by the phone. The slight rasp in his throat as he stumbled over his words was unmistakable, especially to Atsushi. Still, his tone remained playful and cheery as ever, music to Atsushi’s neurotic ears.
"I’ll see you in a bit. I promise I’ll give you a kiss first thing~!” Dazai chirped, earning a pleased hum from Atsushi in reply.
“I told you that you could trust me, by the way.” Dazai clicked his tongue, causing a light blush to bloom across Atsushi’s cheeks. He could imagine Dazai delivering unto him a gentle scolding, teasing him all the way by sliding his hand beneath Atsushi’s shirt, nimble fingers brushing warm skin.
“S-Sorry,” Atsushi stammered.
“Don’t worry.”
“Okay, I’m gonna hang up now.” Atsushi stared cautiously down at the phone, as if expecting Dazai to suddenly hang up on him without reason.
Dazai chuckled loudly, a bubbling stream of laughter bursting forth from his lungs. Kunikida’s stern, firm voice came unintelligible from somewhere close by, causing Dazai’s laughter to devolve into a series of hushed, muffled snickers. “Okay. I love you, Atsu~!”
Being called by that nickname still made Atsushi blush despite the fact that he and Dazai had been married for over two years.
“I love you too.”
After hanging up, Atsushi returned his phone to its place on the nightstand, sighing happily. Thirty or so minutes passed as Atsushi lay awake like an excited child on Christmas eve, awaiting his husband’s return with an eager anxiety before the muffled sound of the door to their shared apartment opening graced his ears.
“I’m ho~me!” Dazai called out, shutting the door behind him and placing his shoes beside the doorway. He knew Atsushi would still be awake, as it always proved difficult for him to sleep without Dazai, especially after their marriage. Besides, Dazai knew his husband would be much too giddy to go back to sleep.
Just as Dazai had predicted, the moment he entered the bedroom, Atsushi nearly leapt out of bed, running and hugging Dazai tight. Burying his face in his husband’s chest, a sigh of relief passed Atsushi’s lips as he breathed in his partner’s scent. Despite having been working all day, the warm scent of Dazai’s cologne still clung to him, lingering on his clothes like a thin mist.
“Happy to see me, hm?” Dazai chuckled, combing his fingers through his husband’s silver hair as he held him close, planting a soft kiss against the top of his head.
“Of course,” Atsushi replied, looking up at Dazai.
“I told you to trust me, right?” Dazai murmured, clicking his tongue playfully as he stared down into Atsushi’s purple eyes rimmed with yellow, reminiscent of the dying breath of a particularly beautiful sunset. They felt like home; those eyes reminded him of Yokohama. It was almost as if Dazai always carried a small piece of the sunset through being married to the love of his life.
“I trust you.”
Dazai laughed again, sighing contentedly.
“Really though, I need to get changed. I’m exhausted,” he muttered, causing Atsushi to immediately release the hold he’d had on Dazai.
“Sorry. I’ll let you do what you need to.” Atsushi gave a sheepish laugh, crawling back beneath the thick cocoon composed of several layers of blankets atop the couple’s shared bed.
He watched with wide eyes as Dazai shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of his desk chair, humming softly.
Next came the vest and tie, non-essential items, followed by his shirt. Atsushi still found his face warm at the sight of seeing his husband’s shirt slowly slide down his back, revealing the bandaged skin beneath.
Dazai glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “I know you’re watching.”
How could he not? Dazai’s charm could only be described as irresistible, and Atsushi found himself nearly brought to tears at how handsome his husband was, despite having seen him fully unclothed many a time.
“You got me,” Atsushi laughed lightly in response.
Dazai merely nodded, undoing his belt and sliding his pants down, stretching with a long yawn as he stepped out of them.
Now only in his boxers, Dazai lazily slid open the drawer to his dresser, producing a t-shirt from within and sliding it on, once again concealing the upper portion of his slender frame. He gave Atsushi a small wink before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving their bedroom silent once again.
The silence only remained for a moment as the bathroom door opened again as Dazai stepped out into the darkened room, his silhouette outlined by white moonlight which gave him an otherworldly, almost angelic aura.
Again, Atsushi couldn’t help but stare. How had he gotten so lucky? How had someone as pathetic as himself been so blessed by the gods?
A single hot tear streaked down Atsushi’s cheek and Dazai noticed immediately, breathing a quiet ‘what’s wrong?’ in that soft, caring tone he’d switch to whenever Atsushi got upset.
“Nothing, just...I’m lucky to have you, Osamu.”
“I’m lucky to have you too.”