Chapter Text
Chuuya made a noise of annoyance as the movie was interrupted by an ad break. “Tch, I should’ve paid for the ad-free version.”
Dazai, less impatient, asked lazily, “Do you need a refill or to hit the bathroom or anything?”
“Nah,” Chuuya said, pulling Dazai’s arms more tightly around him and squirming back into his chest. Then he turned his head alertly. “Or, did you?”
“No,” Dazai assured him, stroking Chuuya’s side with his thumbs. He brought his knees up a little, tightening his thighs around Chuuya to lock him in place, and Chuuya relaxed back into him again.
They watched in companionable silence as a grocery store ad played, and then the second ad began, for Tokyo Disneyland. Couples walked through the park, ooh’ing and ah’ing over the Christmas decorations and parades.
Both men were thrown back in time.
For some reason, Dazai had agreed to hang out with him on their day off. They’d hit the arcade earlier, and had then grabbed takeout and gone back to Chuuya’s place to eat and play video games. They’d sniped at each other less than usual, and the teasing had been more friendly. For once, it almost felt like Dazai didn’t despise him.
“Ya wanna watch a movie?” Chuuya asked, almost diffidently. “Die Hard’s on.”
They’d actually watched the movie, eating microwave popcorn. Chuuya had brought up the standard internet argument about whether or not Die Hard counted as a Christmas movie, and took the ‘yes’ side, leading to a spirited - but not mean-spirited - debate.
Chuuya had begun to wonder if he and Dazai could actually be friends. It would be nice. The one person he saw nearly every day, that he worked with, the one that he trusted above all others. The one person he thought understood him. And then it all came crashing down.
An ad for Tokyo Disneyland came on, and Chuuya offered tentatively, “I’d like to go see the Christmas stuff there someday.”
And an ugly expression crossed Dazai’s face. “Like you’d ever find anyone who wanted to go with you.”
Dazai had spent the whole day with Chuuya, and it had been fun, which was not a word he had ever thought would apply to him. He’d enjoyed himself. The arcade, the video games at Chuuya’s place, the movie. Whatever he might say aloud, when he was with Chuuya, life - seemed like a real thing. It must simply be his enthusiasm, surely. Nothing to do with the fact that Chuuya was the only person who understood. The only person his age, and his equal. The one human being who knew him, for worse and worst, and still thought Dazai was human, too. Maybe he should spend more time with Chuuya.
And then an ad came on for Tokyo Disneyland, couples enjoying the Christmas season. And Chuuya had said casually, “I’d like to go see the Christmas stuff there someday.”
The unwanted vision of Chuuya, holding hands with some faceless girl, walking through Disneyland all lovey-dovey like the couples in the ad, made something nasty twist in Dazai’s stomach.
“Like you’d ever find anyone who wanted to go with you,” he said coldly.
The look on Chuuya’s face made the churning in his gut even worse.
Chuuya was rigid in Dazai’s arms.
“Chuuya. Sweetheart,” Dazai said in a low, intense voice. “I am so sorry. I was jealous, back then. You said you wanted to go someday, and I imagined you there on a date with some girl, and was jealous.”
“You fucker,” Chuuya said. He was no longer board-stiff, but he was still clearly upset. “I was hinting to you. Not as a date, granted, but I was asking you to go with me. I was trying to be friends.”
“I know that now.” Dazai pleaded, with an unhappy, helpless laugh, “But surely it’s not a surprise to you that I was an idiot back then.”
Chuuya snorted. “Dumbass.” His voice was marginally less angry now.
Tentatively relieved, Dazai agreed, “Yes, I was a dumbass. Am a dumbass.” He searched his memory for Chuuya’s preferred insults. “And a moron, and an idiot, and a fuckwit.” Chuuya’s next snort was almost entirely humorous, and Dazai continued, hopeful.
“Um, and dipshit, and, let’s see, oh! Asshole!” Dazai was running out of Chuuya-branded insults, but Chuuya was finally relaxing in his arms again, so he just extemporized. “And cretin, and oblivious, and jerkwad. Jackass. Prick?”
“Yeah, fucker,” Chuuya said, but this time it was wryly affectionate, and Dazai thanked his lucky stars that the most important person in the world was so forgiving. “Forget it, ancient history. We’re missing the movie.”
“Don’t care,” said Dazai, removing one arm from Chuuya’s waist and stretching for the remote. He paused the movie and dropped the remote, clasping Chuuya once more. He pressed a kiss to the back of his head. Softly, he asked, “Let me make up for being the absolute worst teenager? May I take you to Disneyland this weekend?”
Chuuya tipped his head to the side, pressing it against Dazai’s chest. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t need to do that.”
Dazai’s voice betrayed his confusion. Disconcerted, he said, “‘Need to?’ Do you not know the meaning of ‘jealous’? I wanted to go with you. That’s why I was jealous. I wanted to go with you, and I just assumed you had to be thinking about a girl because everyone in the commercial was couples.” He paused, and added hesitantly, “And because - well, why would you want to go with me.”
Chuuya twisted his head and looked up into Dazai’s face searchingly. Apparently, he saw all too well, as his face softened. He squirmed around until he was lying on his stomach on top of Dazai. “Dumbass,” he said gently, and nestled his cheek onto Dazai’s chest, wrapping his arms around his husband. “Always had to make things so fucking difficult.”
Dazai made a helpless noise of agreement, and Chuuya gave a half-laugh and rubbed Dazai’s back.
“Okay,” he said into Dazai’s chest. “You can take me to Disneyland.”
Chuuya and Dazai, dressed in the same elegant suits they’d worn to Kunikida’s belated birthday dinner, paused in front of a fifteen meter tall Christmas tree to take selfies. Chuuya wore a fluffy hat with fox ears and Dazai wore a Mickey Mouse hat with pom-pom ears. A couple passing by stopped and offered to take pictures for them, and they handed over their phones with wide smiles of thanks, posing arm in arm with Chuuya leaning his head against Dazai’s shoulder.
After receiving their phones back, they offered to return the favor, taking pictures of the cute couple and then returning their phones.
Dazai wound his arm through Chuuya’s once more and they strolled onward.
“What’s been your favorite so far?” he asked.
“The Haunted Mansion,” Chuuya said immediately. “I loved the Christmas version. And you?” He looked up at Dazai inquisitively.
“Country Bear Christmas. The Jingle Bell Jamboree, especially,” Dazai replied with equal surety. “But the afternoon is young.”
“Yeah,” Chuuya said, squeezing Dazai’s arm. “I’m betting the Toys Wondrous Christmas parade is gonna be f-” he looked around at all the couples, and continued, “totally awesome.”
Dazai looked down at him, amazed. “You are really in the Christmas spirit, aren’t you?” he asked, impressed that Chuuya had refrained from swearing.
Chuuya’s cheeks turned pink and he looked resolutely forward. “Maybe,” he said gruffly.
Dazai untangled his arm and slipped it around Chuuya’s waist, holding him close as they continued toward the parade due to start in fifteen minutes. “Definitely,” he said softly into Chuuya’s ear.
Chuuya slipped his arm around Dazai’s waist in turn and he looked up at his husband, his expression open and honest and full of love. “Definitely,” he admitted.
Chuuya’s hands were starting to ache from clapping when the toy parade finally finished passing by. He shook them out, and grinned, seeing Dazai doing the same.
“The electric parade is in about two hours,” Dazai said, checking his phone. He met Chuuya’s eyes. “Do you want to stay for it?”
Chuuya looked concerned. “Does it conflict with our dinner reservation?”
“I don’t know,” Dazai admitted. “You made the dinner reservation.”
“I think dinner’s at seven,” Chuuya said, frowning, and pulled out his phone. His thumbs moved quickly. “Yeah, seven,” he said.
“Then yes, it conflicts,” Dazai said. “We’ll have to skip the electric parade this year.”
Chuuya’s smile winked up at him. “This year?” he said in a leading voice.
Dazai smiled back down at him. “This year,” he confirmed in a husky voice. “We’ll plan better when we come back next year.”
Chuuya demonstrated the virtue of compromise, splitting the difference between his wishes and consideration for bystanders. Reaching up, he wrapped his hands around the back of Dazai’s head and pulled him down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, and then released him. He wrapped his arm firmly around Dazai’s once more, and set off, eyes forward, and said firmly, “Next year.”
Promptly at seven, Chuuya and Dazai presented themselves at the resort’s restaurant and were ushered to a candlelit table for two. Dazai held Chuuya’s chair for him, and the maître d' presented them each with a menu, and offered a single wine list which Chuuya reached out to accept, and then bowed and wished them a pleasant dinner.
Chuuya scanned the wine list and made his decision, and then handed it to Dazai. Turning his attention to the dinner menu, Chuuya made his selection based on the wine he’d already chosen, and closed the menu.
He watched, chest aching, as Dazai surveyed the menu. The candlelight made Dazai’s eyes sparkle, and deepened the shadows so that his eyelashes looked even darker and thicker. He had pushed his hair back behind his ears the way he knew Chuuya liked it, his cheekbones on full display. His lips were parted in thought, and Chuuya had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
Dazai met his eyes over the menu, and Chuuya didn’t know what he saw, but he stilled completely, pupils dilating and eyelids drooping.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Chuuya said, or maybe he didn’t say it; his voice was so soft that he didn’t know if even Dazai could hear him.
Whether he could hear, or just read Chuuya’s lips, Dazai’s expression grew more serious. “Pot, kettle,” he said softly, and stretched his hand out across the linen tablecloth.
Chuuya reached out as well, and both men unwillingly retracted their hands as their server approached.
A couple of polite minutes later, the server took the menus and left with a bow, and Dazai and Chuuya turned to each other once more, the mood a little less intense.
“I was surprised you went for the shiraz with me,” Chuuya said. “I figured you’d go for sake or whiskey like usual.”
Dazai smiled, mysterious in the dim light, and said, “Hmm, I’d prefer not to mix grape and grain.” His eyes fixed on Chuuya’s lips, and he continued, voice husky, “And I’m hoping to have a taste of the shiraz later.”
And, just like that, Chuuya was once again flooded with warmth. Jesus Christ, he thought, how the hell did I get to marry the sexiest fucking man on the goddamn planet? He swallowed, and then managed, “More than a taste, I hope.”
Dazai smiled demurely, but his voice was wicked as he purred, “As much as you are willing to share, then.”
This kind of public, camouflaged flirtation was new to Chuuya, but oh, god, was he enjoying it. “You’re welcome to anything of mine,” he said provocatively, and his breath hitched - Do I dare? - and he decided to go for it, “my love.”
It was worth the hammering of his heart, he decided, seeing the look that crossed Dazai’s face. In fact, the hammering of his heart might actually have been a plus all by itself, as his arousal was building with shocking rapidity between his own uneven breathing and the look on Dazai’s face that screamed his desire to take Chuuya in his arms right there and then.
Dinner was a warm, seductive blur as they traded double entendres and fed each other. Once it was over, Chuuya couldn’t have said what he’d eaten, but he blindly signed the check when it was brought, and then rose as Dazai held his chair for him once more. They left the restaurant with Chuuya leading, one of Dazai’s long hands solicitously on the small of his back.
Chuuya was eminently conscious of that hand as they crossed the lobby and waited at the bank of elevators, and swore inwardly, every muscle in his body tense, as another couple joined them in the elevator. He and Dazai endeavored to look perfectly calm, but surely the heat and tension radiating off them could be felt for at least a ten-foot radius.
They exited on the fourth floor and walked to their room, Dazai’s hand still on the small of Chuuya’s back, and Chuuya swiped the keycard, hand trembling.
Stepping through the open door, Chuuya dropped the keycard on the small table in the entryway as Dazai closed and double-latched the door behind them, and then they came together like a pair of magnets.
Chuuya rested his hands on Dazai’s hips, tightly pressed against his own, as Dazai took Chuuya’s head between both palms and said hoarsely, “I would very much like another taste of the shiraz.”
“As much as you want,” Chuuya vowed as he raised his face to Dazai’s, and they wasted no time, joining their mouths and exploring each other fully.
For some time, they simply held each other close as they kissed, their hands moving only to tighten and press one another closer. But eventually, their hands began to move to better purpose, stroking, kneading, reaching for the buttons of their suit coats and ridding each other of their first layers.
They made their way to the sofa first, and Chuuya first sat across Dazai’s lap as they began taking off one another’s ties, and then knelt over him as they resumed working on one another’s buttons. Seated on the sofa, they explored one another’s faces and throats, lips moving first to an ear, and then to a chest, and eventually they made their way to their feet, and then over to the bed. As they stood beside it, Dazai leaning down and Chuuya standing on tiptoe, their mouths never left one another as they worked off their remaining clothing, parting only briefly to pull back the covers and climb into bed, where they resumed their efforts to merge two warm bodies into one.