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Atsushi wasn’t well-versed in the concept of love. Having grown up in an orphanage all his life and shunned by everyone there, he never really had the chance to experience anything remotely close to it. It was only after joining the Armed Detective Agency that he began to experience the different types of love that he could only dream of back then, the most prominent being familial love for the people he learned to call his family. Probably just as important, he was also learning to love himself.
In spite of everything, the one love he couldn’t quite grasp was romantic love.
But to be fair, could anyone really blame his lack of knowledge when he was surrounded by people like...this?
"Tsk. Tsk. Kunikida-kun, don't you think 58 characteristics is a bit much to look for in an ideal partner? At this rate, you'll die a lonely old man!"
"That's none of your business!"
A crash sounded through the office as Kunikida tackled Dazai to the ground for his notebook. When he was successful, he put it out of the latter’s reach and began to mercilessly strangle him.
"Kunikida-san, don't listen to shitty Dazai,” Chuuya said boredly from his desk, eyes never once leaving his computer’s screen. “If you lower your standards, you might end up with someone like him."
Said man had somehow escaped the blond’s death grip and was now standing much too proudly for someone who was tapping out mere moments before. "How mean! I like to think of myself as the highest quality of packages."
Kunikida and Chuuya gave each other a look, as if to say Dazai wasn’t fooling anyone with whatever delusional image of himself he had in his head.
"Unlike Kunikida-kun, I happen to love all women and a select few men.” He spun around, throwing a mischievous smirk Chuuya’s way. “But even if my standards are quite low, I doubt chibi would ever be able to reach them because of how tiny he is.”
With his cheek resting on his fist, attention briefly stolen away from his work, Chuuya stared him down with one eyebrow raised. “Really?”
“Yup!”
“Maybe I should settle for someone with lower standards then,” the redhead said with a shrug, then went back to typing up his report from the last case.
Dazai was looking as smug as ever after having successfully completed his daily routine of mocking Chuuya. Of course, that was until Yosano walked by and, having heard the whole conversation, went and caged Chuuya in from behind with her arms, gloved hands finding purchase on the arms of his chair.
“Chuuya-kun~ You’re practically laying yourself bare for me,” Yosano purred into his ear.
It took one quick, saccharine smile in Dazai’s direction, and the man already knew that Chuuya was willing to play his little game, with the intention of making sure to pay him back tenfold.
Dazai watched as he craned his neck up to look at her, his head just barely pressing back against the chest behind him. “Sensei, I didn’t realize you were into trash.”
Now, Yosano was a smart woman. She knew what was hers and what wasn’t (read: what was Dazai’s). However, there are times when opportunities like this one - Dazai being an asshole and Chuuya wanting to see him suffer for it - opened up right in front of her, and she’d be a fool to let it slip through her fingers. Which is exactly why she didn’t hesitate to dance her fingers up Chuuya’s arms, until they settled on his shoulders, and pulled him flush against her body.
“I’m more of a Chuuyasexual, baby boy , so I’d gladly take trash like you out anytime.”
The bandaged man watching everything unfold felt cheated. Whenever he tried calling Chuuya ‘baby boy,’ he’d get roundhouse kicked into another dimension, but now that Yosano was using the pet name, she was gifted with a blushing Chuuya. The discrimination!
Dazai was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a flirtatious, “How about we discuss over lunch?”
“No, wait-”
They did not wait.
“With pleasure.”
And so, Dazai watched in despair as Chuuya was whisked away by Yosano and out the door to who-knows-where.
“Chuuya was supposed to take me out to lunch.” He was sulking now, body lifeless against the surface of his desk.
Kunikida was back to working through the day’s paperwork. He had given up trying to make the man next to him get work done, and thus opted for becoming his unintended therapist.
“Why must your flirting always be so difficult? He'll never come around, if it’s like that.”
Dazai pouted. “A man can try, can’t he?”
“In the two years I’ve known you,” Kunikida began, only ceasing his typing for a second to push up his glasses, “ not once has your shameless office flirting been effective.”
Atsushi, who has been trying his absolute best to not eavesdrop anymore than he already has (In his defense, who wouldn’t when two of his co-workers were shamelessly flirting across from him?), finally cracked and looked over at his mentor with wide eyes.
“Dazai-san has been trying for two years?”
Said man turned his head over to rest his other cheek on the desk, so that he could face the teen. “Yes, and I’ll get him to crack some day.”
The unpaid therapist sighed. “Rather than trying to woo Chuuya-san, why don’t you do some actual work, you waste of bandages?”
“But how can I possibly work with a wounded heart?” he asked gloomily.
At that, Kunikida finally looked at Dazai, really looked at him, and said, with the straightest face he could muster, “I’ll tell Chuuya-san.”
“And what is the chibi going to do?”
Wordlessly, Kunikida took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and pressed the device to his ear. It took a few seconds before muffled talking could be heard from the other end.
“Hello, Chuuya-san.”
Dazai continued to watch, unfazed so far, as Kunikida proceeded to listen to what was being said on the other line, occasionally humming or replying with affirmative responses.
“Alright, thank you. Goodbye.”
A raised eyebrow silently asked what the point of the call was.
“He said you can say goodbye to dinner.”
The brunet instantly shot upright. “Wha-! Kunikida-kun, that’s not fair! I’ve been looking forward to it since forever!”
Kunikida knew his dramatic ass meant he'd been waiting since he got to work. Atsushi did not.
“Then do your work.” And he went back to his own duties like the responsible man he was.
“Atsushi-kun~”
Oh, boy. Here we go.
Atsushi knew that tone, had heard it countless times whenever Dazai was feeling extra lazy. It meant poor Atsushi was getting an extra load of work for the day.
“Won’t you help out poor Dazai-san? I can’t risk losing dinner with the chibi.”
There it was.
The white-haired teen braced himself before asking, “Why is dinner with Chuuya-san so important to you?”
He was expecting another fabricated lie, a lousy excuse, simple deflection of the question, anything . What he wasn’t prepared for was the utterly smitten look that crossed Dazai’s face, complete with sparkling eyes and a tender smile.
“Isn’t wanting to have dinner with the one you love enough of a reason?”
Wait. What?
“You love him?” Atsushi’s mouth hung open in shock, still baffled by the nonchalant admittance.
“Of course! I thought I was being pretty obvious.” Dazai was looking at the younger boy in a way that made him feel as though he should have already been aware of the fact that his mentor was supposedly in love with their co-worker.
“No?” he said, unsure.
Dazai was usually playing petty pranks on Chuuya, poking fun at him, provoking him, and even full-on fighting with him. It was, honestly, surprising to hear the man admit to really loving Chuuya.
Was that how people flirted?
Inexperienced Atsushi just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Ah…” Dazai had flopped back on his desk, seemingly uninterested in continuing their conversation. “I just want to have dinner with the love of my life.”
But, Dazai sounded so genuine . And was he actually opening his laptop to work?
Atsushi stared at Dazai as he slowly but surely began to chip away at the work he had yet to do. He hadn’t pestered him to help him out again, only diligently worked.
He must be really serious about Chuuya-san.
If the lazy, immature, free-spirited Dazai was truly intent on having this dinner with Chuuya and was obediently doing work to achieve it, then maybe, just this once, Atsushi could willingly help out. Because if insulting his crush was Dazai’s way of flirting, then at this rate, he was never going to win Chuuya over.
~
Half an hour later had Atsushi finishing up his own assigned work for the day, and he was just opening up the files he was forwarded when Chuuya and Yosano came back. Each of them was carrying a white box with the logo of the bakery down the street on the top.
Dazai perked up in his seat. He began to wave at the man across the room, greeting him with a cheerful, “Welcome back, wifey!”
Atsushi face palmed. This was going to be harder than he thought.
Chuuya laughed dryly at the name, changed course, and walked straight to Ranpo’s desk. “You just lost pastry privileges. Ranpo-san, you get double.”
The sugar-obsessed detective cheered, and greedily reached for the box. After he pulled out his choice of treats, Chuuya went to deliver the others to Kunikida, skillfully dodged grabby hands, and then finally to Atsushi. He waved off the thanks from his colleagues and took out his own treat. It was a rather cute, mini strawberry shortcake that tasted even better than he expected.
He could feel a gaze burning into him, so as if to further spite the man currently staring longingly at him and his cake, he moaned in delight around his fork. A kicked puppy was what Dazai looked like, and Chuuya was gleaming .
‘Dazai-san never learns,’ Atsushi thought to himself as he redirected his focus to his custard bun.
Yet perhaps his seemingly hopeless mentor was doing something right, because when Atsushi left to go to the restroom, Chuuya had pushed the other half of his cake to Dazai and watched fondly as he happily finished it all. He also missed when Chuuya motioned the other to lean over the desk towards him, and when he met him halfway, he kissed away the stray smear of cream on the corner of his lip.
Instead, Atsushi came back to Dazai groaning in pain on the floor, hand cradling his cheek, while Chuuya furiously typed on his computer. Both had matching red faces, and no one would tell the boy that it was because Dazai tried to kiss Chuuya on the lips.
(“Oh, so it’s okay for you to kiss me, but I can’t kiss you ?”
“I told you, I was getting the cream! The cream !”)
~
Later that day, during one of their breaks, Atsushi decided to bring the topic up to Chuuya. They were relaxing at the downstairs cafe, each nursing their own cup of coffee.
“Chuuya-san?”
Blue eyes flitted to him, giving the teen his full attention. Atsushi hadn’t actually planned out what he wanted to tell him, but now that the redhead across from him was staring, waiting for him to go on, he had to say something. Maybe being direct would be the best course of action.
“Dazai-san finished all his work for today, so... Please have dinner with him!”
A soft ‘ clink’ of the porcelain cup meeting its matching coaster reached Atsushi’s ears. He refused to meet Chuuya’s eyes, an unexplained fear of rejection for Dazai’s sake taking over. And rather than simply waiting for the rejection to come faster, he figured filling the space with more talking would calm his nerves. It did not.
“He may not show it in the best of ways, but he really cares about you. Please give him a chance.” Atsushi knew he sounded pathetically desperate, but he didn't know what else to do. Dazai's love life was on the line!
Chuuya sighed, the first sound from him since the younger’s sudden exclamation. Atsushi was relieved to hear a different voice other than his own, ‘cause God knows, he might have been making things worse.
"You know, Atsushi, about Dazai…” He lifted his head to see Chuuya resting his chin on interlocked hands, his own shoulders relaxing when he saw that the other man was staring out the window, a pleasantly thoughtful look on his face. “Even if he gets on my nerves and makes me want to end his life most days, I actually really love-”
“Ah, you look as radiant as ever! Wouldn’t it be even more beautiful, if we were to commit a double suicide together?”
"I fucking hate him!"
There’s a slamming of fists on wood, and then Chuuya was throwing down enough money to cover both of their coffees and then some, most likely for what he was about to do. He exits their booth with a deep red aura surrounding his person, and then there was a loud ‘ thunk!’ as one of the freshly baked muffins on the counter goes to hit the back of Dazai’s head.
“Ow! Chibi-”
He was ignored as he’s roughly pushed aside, his body nearly losing its balance from the sheer force. Chuuya had enough self-restraint to keep from taking his anger out on the door, so there’s only the little tinkle of the cafe’s bell once he’s gone.
The waitress beside Dazai sighed, putting a respectable distance between them as soon as she helped him regain his bearings. “Dazai-san, you shouldn’t tease him so much. He might really divorce you one day.”
“It’s exactly because of how strongly he reacts, that I love to tease him. He’s just too cute.”
Dazai spotted his protégé a few booths away and called out to him, voice taking a sing-songy tone. “Atsushi-kun~!”
The boy lifted his face from where it was pressed into his palms, expression completely distraught.
"Dazai-san! I almost got him to confess his true feelings, but you ruined it!"
"Eh?” Dazai’s mind stopped, confused as to what he was going on about.
A second too long of that same lost look made Atsushi lie face-down, too tired to keep his head up any longer. “You said you love Chuuya-san, so I was trying to get him to admit that he loves you back. But now, it’ll be even harder.”
Oh!
Atsushi thought that-!
Imaginary devil horns appeared on the brunet’s head, a devious smile playing onto his lips. This was a game he was eager to play.
“Why must you propose a double suicide with other people, if you love him ?”
Dazai, with his best teacher’s voice, was happy to educate the confused child. “Atsushi-kun, a double suicide is completely different from a lovers’ suicide.”
“How?”
“You do one with your lover, of course!”
Atsushi didn’t get it, couldn’t even if he tried, but he supposed that’s just the way Dazai’s brain worked. He sat up upright, ill-defined wood markings littering the left side of his face as soon it left the tabletop. “Still, Chuuya-san might get the wrong idea.”
“Shall I only propose to him then?” he asked as he picked up Chuuya’s abandoned coffee, nose scrunching up in disgust when he tasted how bitter it was.
“Yes…?”
Now Atsushi was the disgusted one. He had to watch as the man ripped open several packets of sugar and promptly dumped everything into the cup. There was definitely not enough liquid to compensate for that much sugar. A satisfied hum sounded when he took a sip of the monstrosity he created, and Atsushi didn’t even try to disguise the cringing of his body.
“What do you suppose I do to gain Chuuya’s favor?” he was asked.
It wasn’t meant to be a difficult question, but for someone with no experience in this field whatsoever, he honestly didn’t know. The only reference he had was from that one romance movie he watched a few weeks ago by the insistence of Naomi, who was kind enough to lend him her copy after having heard he hadn’t watched it.
“Have you tried flowers?” he suggested, trying to recall what the protagonist of the movie had done to woo their significant other. “I think people get flowers for the people they love.”
“Great idea! I’m sure Chuuya would love them.”
Atsushi beamed at the praise. He could already picture the surprise on Chuuya’s face when he was presented with a lovely bouquet of flowers. Surely, not even Dazai could mess up something as simple as that.
~
He was wrong. Absolutely, positively wrong . He should have expected this. It was Dazai, for fuck’s sake.
Did Dazai buy an actual bouquet of flowers for Chuuya? Yeah, he did.
Were the flowers legit or even remotely attractive? Yes, actually. They were a stunning array of yellow and white daffodils that must have been expensive with how fresh the flowers looked and how large the bouquet was.
He even refrained from throwing any petty insults at the redhead when he presented the bouquet to him. All he gave was a charming smile and said he hoped he liked it.
Obviously, Chuuya was very skeptical of getting a gift like that out of the blue, especially since it was from Dazai. But after a quick inspection of seeing whether or not they were real, Atsushi caught him smiling ever so softly at the flowers, fingers delicately brushing against their velvet petals.
It would’ve been a huge step in his plan of getting Chuuya to realize his feelings for Dazai, and he’d most likely be convinced of how serious the other was about pursuing an honest relationship together.
It would’ve been perfect.
It would’ve been too good to be true.
It all went downhill the moment the bandage-wearing man opened his mouth (no surprise there).
Apparently, the bouquet was designed with the intention of making Chuuya’s day brighter, because “being vertically challenged must be so difficult for chibi.” Dazai, ignoring the growing rage radiating off of Chuuya, pushed it further and went on to explain how the white daffodils were to wish him good luck in growing taller.
Unsurprisingly, the morning was spent watching a giddy Dazai being chased around the office by a fuming Chuuya, who had the bouquet in his clutches, ready to beat the living shit out of him with it. By the end of it, the brunet had somehow successfully dodged and blocked all attacks, and both men ended up lying breathless on the floor, surrounded by stray daffodil petals.
“I hate you,” Chuuya hissed, weakly whacking the man lying next to him with what was left of the now ruined bouquet.
“I hate you, too.” Dazai eyes were anything but. No, they were reflecting all of the love and affection he had for the man trying to impale him with dead plants. And judging by the way Chuuya turned his head away from him, face and ears going beet red, Dazai knew he was seen right through.
(When they got home that night, there, sitting on their dining table, was a vase filled with red camellias, Chuuya’s favorite.)
~
“Why not try to do something nice for Chuuya-san?”
That was what Atsushi suggested the other day after the whole flower fiasco, but this was not what he meant by ‘nice.’
“You threw away my laptop?!”
“Yes,” Dazai replied casually, inspecting his fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the world.
Dazai-san, why?!
Atsushi chanced a tentative glance in front of him, only to find that Chuuya was seething. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
Dazai had begun to spin around in his chair without a care in the world, acting as if Chuuya didn’t currently have the majority of the office supplies and a few of the decorative plants suspended in the air, ready to attack if he gave an insufficient answer.
“Chibi’s been complaining about his computer system being so slow and shutting down unexpectedly. And since I know chibi is too stubborn to admit he needs another one, I took it upon myself to get rid of it for you.”
Contrary to what everyone thought was going to happen, the floating items slowly descended back to their original positions, eliciting breaths of relief from the concerned co-workers that had already taken cover the second their pens and rulers began to float.
Chuuya took a long, deep breath. He didn’t even look at Dazai. Instead, he gave a tight smile to Atsushi.
All he said was, “We have a case to do, don’t we?” before turning on his heel and exiting the office. Atsushi had no choice but to follow after him, turning back once to see Dazai waving him off with a carefree smile on his face.
Did he not care that he upset Chuuya by doing that? Or was that simply his twisted way of being nice?
Either way, his actions made it hard for Atsushi to talk him up, because every time he so much as mentioned his name, Chuuya would divert the conversation elsewhere. He noticed soon after a few failed attempts that it would be useless to try and bring the man up any more than necessary, which was not at all, so he didn’t try to mention him anymore. All he could do was focus on completing the case at hand.
(“Chibi, don’t be mad anymore. You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”
“You could’ve told me that the President was planning on giving me a new laptop, before you pulled that shit!”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Dazai slept in a futon that night.)
~
“Dazai-san, how about you just try being yourself around Chuuya-san?” Realizing his mistake, Atsushi immediately corrected himself. “Actually, no! Be a more tolerable version of yourself!”
“You wound me, Atsushi-kun.” The man lifted himself from his seat, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. “But, if you insist, then I suppose I can try.”
If doing something nice for another person was something Dazai couldn’t do in a way that conveyed the underlying message behind it, then maybe attempting to be less insufferable than normal would be a better way to accentuate whatever appealing features he had.
“Good morning, my beautiful wifey.”
See, Atsushi was clever to not get his hopes up.
“You’re looking as ravishing as always.”
Chuuya, having only just returned from a case with Kunikida, looked about ready to walk out that door again. His escape was halted by an arm around his waist pulling him back and around and leading him to his desk.
Dazai, the ever charming man, pulled his swirly chair out from where it was tucked under the desk. “Here, let me get your chair for you,” he said before guiding the other man to sit down.
“What the fuck is up with you? Did you break something again? Dazai, I swear to God- ”
“Can’t I be nice to Chuuya once in a while?” Said man went rigid when adventurous hands began to massage his shoulders, skilled fingers rubbing out the various knots that have been plaguing him for a few days now.
Chuuya nearly groaned out loud when Dazai massaged at a particularly stubborn knot at the base of his neck, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Not without an ulterior motive.”
“Maybe,” Dazai had stopped massaging him and began to trail a playful hand from his shoulder down his arm, “I do have one.”
“And maybe,” Chuuya grabbed his hand before it could move any lower, using it to pull the brunet even closer to his face, lips inches apart, “I’m not interested.”
He roughly pushed him away, leaving Dazai disappointed that his puckered lips were met with air. Dazai then shot the not-so-discreet Atsushi, who was pretending to look hard at work all hunched over his computer, an apologetic smile. The teen gave his own little smile, showing the other that it was fine, when in reality, he felt utterly defeated.
~
Atsushi was found sulking in a cafe booth, one cheek pressed to the hardwood tabletop again.
“I’m sorry, Dazai-san. I just don’t know how to help anymore.” He sounded so dejected, Dazai couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit bad for teasing the young one this far. He reached over and gave his head a quick pat.
“It’s okay, Atsushi-kun. You did your best.”
He looked up at his mentor, eyebrows scrunched together in the cutest of frowns. “But you haven’t gotten anywhere with Chuuya-san! It must be because I have no experience with romance.”
Dazai smiled gently at the pitiable sight of Atsushi looking genuinely troubled by all this. He supposed he’d played enough.
“Darling,” he called loudly to the man making casual conversation with the cafe owner, “Atsushi wants you to admit that you love me.”
Chuuya glanced over at them, exchanged a few final words with the owner, and made his way to where the two were seated. He didn’t spare a glance at the youngest of the three, who was rapidly looking back and forth between the two of them, mouth slightly ajar, and eyes wider than saucers.
“Is this another one of your games?” he asked warily, refusing to take a seat as it was almost time for them to go back to work anyway.
And with all the playfulness in his body harvested into a single word that would suggest otherwise, he answered, “No~.”
He gave the man that was grinning stupidly at him a scrutinizing look, which only made Dazai grin wider. While massaging his temples, he finally gave up and said, very, very tiredly, “I love you, shitty Dazai.”
Dazai beamed and grabbed his hand. “I love Chuuya, too.”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes when he saw how puckered up Dazai’s lips were, even cringed a little when exaggerated smooching noises reached his ears.
“Fucking disgusting,” he muttered, before pulling the other man up in a kiss.
The kiss was meant to be short and sweet, enough to shut Dazai up. So, before that daring hand could travel any lower than it already had, Chuuya shoved the man away, making a show of roughly wiping his lips.
“Our break ends in five,” Chuuya stated after a quick look at his wristwatch. “If I don’t see you up there by then, you can reacquaint yourself with the futon.”
Dazai sighed dreamily after the retreating figure, eyes unashamedly being drawn to Chuuya’s ass. “Isn’t my husband the best?”
Not ‘wifey,’, like Dazai usually, and what Atsushi thought was jokingly, referred to Chuuya as.
Husband .
Dazai saw the expression on the younger’s face and seemed to glow even more.
Atsushi?
Atsushi didn’t know what was real anymore.
~
“Chuuya-san, tell me it isn’t true!”
The redhead looked at the breathless boy from over the top of his computer screen, an eyebrow raised in question.
“Tell me you aren’t really married to-,” he had to stop to catch his breath, “-to that !” He had a finger pointed accusingly at the man beside him, who put a hand over his heart at the outburst.
“That hurts, Atsushi-kun. It truly does.”
Not knowing what the big deal was, Chuuya slipped off his left glove and held up his hand to showcase the silver band around his finger.
“Unfortunately, that thing over there tricked me into marriage.”
“Chuuya~” Dazai sing-songed as he strolled over to his lover’s side. “Let’s not forget who cried when I proposed.”
Red was always pretty on Chuuya’s face. “I-I did not!”
“Say what you will, darling, but the videos don’t lie.”
“You recorded it?!” he shouted, whipping his head around to glare at the creep that was hugging himself, as if the mere thought of it brought him immense pleasure.
“Of course! I wouldn’t want to forget how chibi cried in my arms like a baby.”
Dazai swiftly dodged a punch aimed at his face.
“Delete it,” Chuuya growled.
“Nope.”
“ Then die .”
As he watched Dazai get chased around the office, a murderous Chuuya hot on his heels, Atsushi muttered numbly to himself,
“Is this how you flirt?”