[Dazai isn't leaving. Chuuya doesn't know why he isn't leaving, when he clearly should. All of this feels too uncertain, too complicated, too... Something. They're not partners, and even as partners, they hated each other. He doesn't want to feel whatever it he's feeling right now. It's like whatever fragile dynamic they've managed to maintain has just been blown apart.
He makes a gesture like he's chasing Dazai out.]
Figured you'd take it anyway. This way you don't get to be smug about stealing from me.
[That's not why at all, and they both know it. But he doesn't have the energy to come up with anything more convincing, either.]
[Being chased out doesn't work on Dazai, even if Chuuya were more capable of just a casual hand gesture to do it. (He's really piling on excuses now.) Dazai knows he has absolutely no obligation to make sure Chuuya is okay, but this lack of anger is... annoying, that's what it is, and it's irritating Dazai more by the minute.]
It's creepy when you offer me things. I'm not taking it. I'll just take something else instead.
[If he can needle Chuuya enough to get him to snap, then Dazai can leave. It seems like a reasonable plan; drag Chuuya out of whatever weird space he's in, turn things back to normal. Because things need to be normal between them. Even when Dazai had come back after disappearing for four years, Chuuya's anger had been refreshing. Yeah, that's a word for it.]
[Chuuya wants to get angry. He wants to throw something at Dazai. He's not sure he has the energy for it, but when the hell has not having the energy for something even mattered? He's going to push himself up, and then push himself to his feet, ignoring that he feels shaky and weak and that his body is screaming at him again. He's shivering from the cold, and he's ignoring that, too.
He does almost manage a half convincing glare at Dazai.]
Do you want me to break every bone in your body?!
[It's definitely not as threatening as it would be, considering all he wants to do is fall backwards again. But he can at least try to put on a show.]
I changed my mind. You don't get to take anything.
[That's... better. Still not nearly as threatening as Chuuya normally is -- not that Dazai ever buys it -- but better than the way he'd just been lying there. Except now Dazai wants to demand he get back on the bed, because it looks like he's about to fall right back over.]
In that case, I'll take it.
[They both know, at this point, that it's a game they're playing. A performance. Dazai is prodding Chuuya to play his part, but the halfhearted performance doesn't feel right. It's even throwing Dazai off, and he doesn't sound like as much of a petty bitch as he usually does. And he doesn't even want to take the whisky.]
Honestly, I'd much rather the entertainment of seeing you try to break every bone in my body. But since you're in such a state... [Dazai nods his head towards Chuuya's bed.] Might as well not make a jog the thing that finally kills you.
[Chuuya hates being ordered around by Dazai. He hates it even more when Dazai is right. At least he didn't say the words directly, didn't try to outright tell Chuuya to get back on the bed, so when he immediately gives in and sits down on the edge, he can almost pretend it's his own choice. He would have fallen over soon if he hadn't.
But annoyance gives him strength. Or maybe he's just too cold and desperate. He manages to find the energy to pull his sweatshirt over his head, along with the t-shirt he had under, dropping them both in a pile on the floor.
It's even more obvious now that he's shaking from the cold, goosebumps covering his too pale skin.]
I'll do it next time I see you.
[He's just keeping up the threats for normalcy's sake. Because Dazai would want him to, really. He lets himself fall sideways so his head is at least in the vicinity of a pillow.]
Since you've broken in before, you know how to let yourself out.
[If Chuuya had waited to get rid of those layers until Dazai had gone, it would have been fine. Dazai wouldn't have seen the way he trembles, and could have left without issue. Now, he's seeing it, and the way Chuuya's body rests limply near the pillow but not on it, and Dazai stares with an almost disgusted look on his face. More towards himself, but absolutely towards Chuuya, too.
Wordlessly, he turns to head towards the bedroom door.]
You at least have tea in this shitty, overpriced apartment, don't you?
[He's not going to say he's making it for Chuuya's sake. It's a good day for tea, that's all, and since Dazai had to come all the way here, he might as well make himself at home. At least for a bit, long enough to make a cup of tea--or a pot of it. For himself. And if there's extra, then whatever. Chuuya can help himself to Dazai's leftovers.]
[Chuuya watches him leave. He's assuming Dazai is about to really leave, until he speaks, asking about tea of all things.]
Yeah. In the kitchen.
[Chuuya's kitchen doesn't really have much in the way of food, but he does have wine, whiskey, vodka, rum, a few other types of alcohol, as well as coffee pods, and an actual tea set that was a gift from Kouyou. There's a few dry snacks, and too much powder for protein shakes. Nothing else.
He's never learned how to cook, and usually eats out or orders food. He hasn't been especially hungry for the past few days - there's a notable lack of empty takeout boxes, compared to what there should be. But he's been sleeping too much anyway.
While Dazai is gone, he manages to kick off his pants as well, and then drag the blanket over himself. He pulls his knees up, curling into a ball to try to preserve some heat while he waits.]
[Chuuya isn't even demanding Dazai get out of his apartment and not touch anything, which is entirely out of character. Dazai tells himself it's just the lingering effects of Corruption; Chuuya's always particularly weakened afterwards, but even this doesn't seem the way he usually is. He can still run his mouth plenty even if his limbs aren't working correctly, but Chuuya is hardly doing that at all.
Dazai has an unpleasant suspicion this isn't from Corruption at all, but the events that led to Chuuya using it.
He knows the path to the kitchen, because he's been here before. Even if he hadn't, it's not difficult to get the floor plans for a building, and he does have those too. The kitchen is abysmal--mostly alcohol, a tea set that isn't at all Chuuya's taste--Dazai assumes it was a gift--and that disgusting protein shake powder. It's eye-rolling, quite honestly, but it's not like he's trying to cook a meal. Though he's likely more decent at it than Chuuya is.
Has he even been eating, though? There are none of the telltale signs of takeout, hardly any of the snacks have been touched. Dazai mutters under his breath--annoying, annoying, annoying--and sets to work boiling the water, grabbing what he figures is the most expensive tea because why not? Chuuya is leaving him alone in the kitchen; Dazai is going to touch everything he can.
It doesn't take long to fill the pot with hot water, tea leaves, and balance it on a tray. Dazai feels ridiculous with this thing--he is someone who drinks tea exclusively from mugs unless otherwise offered--but he carries it without spilling, nudging the half-open door of Chuuya's room with his hip.
He's not dead, at least.]
I thought you were gone. You're so small I could hardly see you under that blanket there.
[It's an insult without much bite, and Dazai sets the tea on the bedside table.]
[Chuuya lifts his head when Dazai returns, somehow still surprised at the sight of the tea, even though Dazai had said he was going to make it. Dazai carrying a tray like that is just a strange sight, that's all.
And he's relieved, because he'd been too cold to be able to drift off, and too exhausted to do anything about it. He could get his pyjamas, but he'd have to actually get up first. He settles for just sitting up, and then scooting over a bit to make room for Dazai next to him so he can sit on the bed, too. There are two cups on that tray, and the only other option would be for Dazai to sit on the floor.]
Shut up. I considered disappearing to get away from you.
[There's no real sting to that, either, he's clearly just saying it out of habit, and to maintain normalcy between them. As much as that's possible, because it still feels awkward, still feels... he doesn't want to think about how it feels. He wants to get these thoughts out of his head. He reaches up to rub at the bruise on his neck for a second.]
[Chuuya makes room, and Dazai sits without saying anything, taking one of the cups and holding it towards him. None of this is a favor. He’s only doing the bare minimum to make sure Chuuya doesn’t… die, or something, and- These excuses are growing increasingly flimsy, so Dazai is just not going to think too hard about what he’s doing.]
I’m going to get away from you as soon as I finish this tea.
[For a moment, the movement Chuuya makes directs Dazai’s attention to his neck, and there are the bruises, ones that would form to Dazai’s hands were he to wrap them around Chuuya’s neck again. He looks away, taking his own cup of tea in hand. The heat is something to distract.]
I’m surprised you had any good tea. Your kitchen is abysmal, by the way. Do you even eat?
[Chuuya can feel the warmth of him again. He cups the tea in his hand, but his attention is on the heat coming from Dazai, almost wishing he could just lean into him. He shoves that thought down hard.]
I order takeout.
[When he's hungry, but he's the type to forget to eat if he's not hungry. He does usually make sure to get a meal in after exercise, but he hasn't been able to do that, either.
He sips his tea. It's good. Dazai didn't burn the leaves, which surprises him a little, but probably shouldn't. Of course he knows how to make tea. Mori probably forced him to learn, since it's not the kind of thing Dazai would care about otherwise. Or maybe it's just another piece of random information he picked up somewhere.]
[Dazai definitely can't afford takeout all that often, but he's also not the best at feeding himself regularly. Most of the time, he doesn't care enough to bother, but when he does, at least he can make something decent. Unlike some people.]
Perhaps if you ate better, your growth wouldn't be so stunted.
[Mori forced Dazai to learn a lot of things--all boring and pointless and annoying, too much work, but at least he knows how to make decent tea. It's come in handy a couple of times, and Dazai hasn't even snuck in anything poisonous this time around. He'll pat himself on the back for making a decent pot, but all of that is really just something to distract from the fact that he's sitting on Chuuya's bed, drinking tea from fancy cups, and they're hardly bickering.
At least Dazai is trying. Chuuya is the one whose attempts are falling flat.]
My kitchen is... [Dazai has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but it actually is worse than Chuuya's. Less alcohol, more empty bottles. Particularly this week. Nobody has come to drag him out of his apartment and force him to clean just yet--it'll probably take a few more days--but at least he has food in there somewhere. Cup noodles count as food.] Excellent. Much better than your shitty kitchen.
[Of course it comes back to that. At least mentioning his height is an easy way to rile Chuuya up, no matter how exhausted he is. He manages to throw a sideways kick at Dazai's leg.
It's pretty weak, but the attempt is there.]
Shut up! It's not stunted!
[He knows he's short, but mostly Dazai is just too tall.
The conversation is slowly getting easier. He's sitting, resting, he's feeling a little bit warmer, a little less like he's seconds from passing out. That weird mood is still there, overshadowing his exhaustion, but he's always been stubborn about hiding his moods when they're such an obvious weakness. He might not be good at it, but he tries.
And these are arguments they've had so many times that he doesn't have to think about what he's saying.]
I bet it's more of a trash pile than a kitchen.
[And they're no longer talking about Chuuya's eating habits. Good.]
[That's slightly better, though the kick feels like basically nothing. Still, there's more of Chuuya in his voice; it's less dull, more annoying. It's a voice that will probably haunt Dazai's worst dreams forever, but it's better than how he'd sounded before. There's still something, an undercurrent, but Dazai trusts it will go away with time.
They always get back to how they've been since they met, after all. Nothing changes. They'll go through these same old insults, and it's oddly comforting.]
Maybe I ought to take a lesson from you and live off of nothing but takeout, protein shakes, and wine. I've always wanted to be a head smaller than I am. [Dazai warms his tea with more from the pot, and wordlessly offers Chuuya a refill. This is the nicest he's ever going to be, so Chuuya had better not mention it, ever, or he'll regret it. They just... have to not ever talk about this again. Add it to the list of things they'll pretend never happened. Simple!]
If you want to be shorter, I've offered to cut your legs off before.
[He'd hit Dazai again, but they're both drinking tea. At least that's his excuse, but really, he's not in the mood for it. He holds his cup out for Dazai to refill it, appreciating the warmth, and takes a moment to just sip it while he tries to make up his mind about something.
He knows they're not supposed to talk about this.
They've always had that agreement. They never actually officially made any agreement, but they've both always known it's there, since the moment they met. They don't talk about anything. They fight and they bicker and they agree that they hate each other, and if anything happens to indicate otherwise, they both pretend that it didn't. Because they do hate each other. They have to.]
[Dazai has hips cup to his lips, a sip of warm tea on his tongue, when Chuuya asks. It’s an actual question rather than an insult, and this is rare; Chuuya never asks before doing something, and the unfamiliarity of this makes Dazai’s body stiffen. He doesn’t like situations he doesn’t know how to read… but no, that’s not it. He’s concerned he can read this, and that Chuuya is going to say something they can’t just forget about.]
Since when have you asked my permission to do anything?
[It’s not a no, which is as good as a yes. Dazai knows no is exactly what he should be saying, that he ought to be getting up and walking out of here, because he doesn’t want to answer whatever Chuuya wants to ask. He knows, even without hearing what it is.
They don’t need to discuss this. Chuuya really can’t be stupid enough to bring it up, can he?]
[He really wouldn't normally ask permission, but this feels like crossing a line, and he doesn't like it. If Dazai had objected, he would have let it go immediately. It would have been easier.
And he has a lot of questions he wants to ask. It's difficult to decide which one seems more important... Part of him wants to talk about how it all felt, being underneath Dazai like that, choked out by him, trusting him. He needs to know how Dazai felt about it all, too, but that wouldn't be fair, he won't be that much of a dick, and Dazai wouldn't give a straight answer anyway. He'd say he hated it.
And it's a betrayal that Chuuya didn't.]
Would you do it again?
[It's... Not what he'd been planning to ask. And he doesn't mean right now, obviously. Just in general.]
[Dazai is silent for a good moment, watching Chuuya with an unreadable expression. Not surprise, nor disgust. Blank, but also not. It's the sort of expression Dazai makes when he's in one of his moods, when he's thinking too much about things too far in the past. And... he doesn't quite understand the question.
Here is where he could deflect, make a stupid joke, refuse to answer. He could get up and leave. There are so many thing Dazai could do to alter the outcome of this, to keep things normal between them, and even he isn't sure what he'll decide until he does it, swirling the tea in the cup.]
Would I choke you again? Or fuck you again?
[He looks up from the amber liquid, watching Chuuya. There's some weird thing between them that has been there before and never really gone away; this is one of the rare occasions Dazai isn't pushing it under layers and layers of self-hatred and denial, letting it air out, but he's waiting for the split second he needs to deny it again.]
[He's already regretting the question. Dazai is taking too long to answer, and Chuuya really would have preferred mocking to that. Jokes or outright insults are easy to deal with - it would hurt (why the hell does this hurt?), but he can deal.
But it's Chuuya's turn to go quiet for a moment when Dazai asks for clarification. He's not really sure. It's not like he's wanted to think too much about this. He wanted to forget it, he just hasn't been able to, since he hasn't been able to bury himself in work. He hasn't even been able to drown himself in wine, so he's been stuck with the memories of what they did.]
Either. Or something different.
[He finishes his tea, and then just holds the cup against his lips as though it's in any way effective as a shield. At least it's something.]
I know this is the point where you start mocking me.
[Chuuya’s response gives no clarification at all. Something different? That could be anything, and annoyance creeps into Dazai’s face, though he doesn’t shut this down just yet. Really, what the hell does Chuuya mean by something different? But Dazai isn’t going to let on that he sort of wants to know, and that he’s annoyed for not immediately getting the answer.]
If you’re going to ask a question, don’t be vague about it.
[His tea is cooling, but he doesn’t finish it to avoid that. He sits, looking at Chuuya.]
Don’t tell me what to do. [If Dazai wanted to mock Chuuya, he totally would. Could. He will, when Chuuya clarifies the question.]
[Ugh. Of course Dazai makes him clarify, when Dazai should be able to guess what Chuuya means anyway. Though this isn't something they've ever even come close to talking about.]
Forget it --
[No, he won't do that. He brought it up, so he won't back out like some coward. Dazai won't drop it now anyway.]
We talked about a lot of things other than choking. So I'm not just gonna suggest that one thing.
[There's a brief, subtle look of surprise on Dazai's face. He should know everything, especially when it comes to Chuuya, but somehow he was not expecting that. To have the other things they'd talked about brought up as actual possibilities. Why? They only did that because they had to. Neither of them enjoyed it--right? Dazai certainly hadn't!]
Why are you bringing this up?
[It's definitely not an answer to Chuuya's question, but two can play at the defensiveness game. Being honest and upfront is not Dazai's thing, anyway, so Chuuya should be prepared for this. At least he isn't laughing it off, or making some insulting joke to shut down the conversation entirely.
[He knows he shouldn't bring it up. And he's felt like utter shit since they did it, in a way that can't be explained by his use of Corruption, so it's definitely a bad idea anyway. He can blame it on being out of it, on his body still being too weak. He needs sleep. That's his excuse. That's how he'll defend himself when Dazai starts mocking him.
(He won't. He'd never use being weak as an excuse.)
He hesitates again.]
Because it pisses me off that we did it when we had no choice.
[That explains nothing, but he still has no idea how to explain it, and he doesn't actually want to.]
Because -- You're the only one who could.
[Maybe that's why he's been feeling this shitty. He shouldn't be feeling this shitty.]
[Fair; that pissed Dazai off, too. He hates being forced to do anything to the point of being contrary just for the hell of it, even if it’s something he normally wouldn’t mind doing. This… it’s another level entirely. How dare someone fuck with his carefully-curated relationship without his consent?
Still silent, he watches as Chuuya admits more. He knows what Chuuya means; there’s nobody but Dazai who can hold Chuuya down, who can force him to be normal, a human without any sort of special ability, who can’t defend himself any better than a non-ability user could. Dazai doesn’t understand it; he’s never had anyone who made him feel ‘normal’.
That’s not what this is about, though.]
Why are you asking if I’d do it again?
[Or more importantly: why is Chuuya cannonballing his way through what there remains between them? Some tenuous, barely-there remnant. They orbit each other, but don’t get close, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. The way Dazai wants to keep it, and he’d thought that’s what Chuuya had wanted, too. Why would he want anything different?]
[Chuuya looks over at him, feeling uncomfortable. Dazai should know. Chuuya would let him, there's nothing more to it than that. He's been unable to stop thinking about it, and maybe if they did it again, he'd be able to get it out of his system. Maybe he'd stop feeling so off.
There's nothing left of their relationship, the way he sees it. Dazai chose to leave, after all. So there's nothing to break here.]
Forget it.
[This time he won't offer an explanation after all. Dazai clearly doesn't want to, so Chuuya isn't going to push, not when this is already as uncomfortable as it is. If he was willing to actually analyze his own feelings, he'd call it painful, but he prefers to call it anger and move on. He can be angry at the people who did that to them.]
All you have going for you is that ability anyway.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He makes a gesture like he's chasing Dazai out.]
Figured you'd take it anyway. This way you don't get to be smug about stealing from me.
[That's not why at all, and they both know it. But he doesn't have the energy to come up with anything more convincing, either.]
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It's creepy when you offer me things. I'm not taking it. I'll just take something else instead.
[If he can needle Chuuya enough to get him to snap, then Dazai can leave. It seems like a reasonable plan; drag Chuuya out of whatever weird space he's in, turn things back to normal. Because things need to be normal between them. Even when Dazai had come back after disappearing for four years, Chuuya's anger had been refreshing. Yeah, that's a word for it.]
You're not using that new car you got, right?
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He does almost manage a half convincing glare at Dazai.]
Do you want me to break every bone in your body?!
[It's definitely not as threatening as it would be, considering all he wants to do is fall backwards again. But he can at least try to put on a show.]
I changed my mind. You don't get to take anything.
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In that case, I'll take it.
[They both know, at this point, that it's a game they're playing. A performance. Dazai is prodding Chuuya to play his part, but the halfhearted performance doesn't feel right. It's even throwing Dazai off, and he doesn't sound like as much of a petty bitch as he usually does. And he doesn't even want to take the whisky.]
Honestly, I'd much rather the entertainment of seeing you try to break every bone in my body. But since you're in such a state... [Dazai nods his head towards Chuuya's bed.] Might as well not make a jog the thing that finally kills you.
no subject
But annoyance gives him strength. Or maybe he's just too cold and desperate. He manages to find the energy to pull his sweatshirt over his head, along with the t-shirt he had under, dropping them both in a pile on the floor.
It's even more obvious now that he's shaking from the cold, goosebumps covering his too pale skin.]
I'll do it next time I see you.
[He's just keeping up the threats for normalcy's sake. Because Dazai would want him to, really. He lets himself fall sideways so his head is at least in the vicinity of a pillow.]
Since you've broken in before, you know how to let yourself out.
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Wordlessly, he turns to head towards the bedroom door.]
You at least have tea in this shitty, overpriced apartment, don't you?
[He's not going to say he's making it for Chuuya's sake. It's a good day for tea, that's all, and since Dazai had to come all the way here, he might as well make himself at home. At least for a bit, long enough to make a cup of tea--or a pot of it. For himself. And if there's extra, then whatever. Chuuya can help himself to Dazai's leftovers.]
no subject
Yeah. In the kitchen.
[Chuuya's kitchen doesn't really have much in the way of food, but he does have wine, whiskey, vodka, rum, a few other types of alcohol, as well as coffee pods, and an actual tea set that was a gift from Kouyou. There's a few dry snacks, and too much powder for protein shakes. Nothing else.
He's never learned how to cook, and usually eats out or orders food. He hasn't been especially hungry for the past few days - there's a notable lack of empty takeout boxes, compared to what there should be. But he's been sleeping too much anyway.
While Dazai is gone, he manages to kick off his pants as well, and then drag the blanket over himself. He pulls his knees up, curling into a ball to try to preserve some heat while he waits.]
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Dazai has an unpleasant suspicion this isn't from Corruption at all, but the events that led to Chuuya using it.
He knows the path to the kitchen, because he's been here before. Even if he hadn't, it's not difficult to get the floor plans for a building, and he does have those too. The kitchen is abysmal--mostly alcohol, a tea set that isn't at all Chuuya's taste--Dazai assumes it was a gift--and that disgusting protein shake powder. It's eye-rolling, quite honestly, but it's not like he's trying to cook a meal. Though he's likely more decent at it than Chuuya is.
Has he even been eating, though? There are none of the telltale signs of takeout, hardly any of the snacks have been touched. Dazai mutters under his breath--annoying, annoying, annoying--and sets to work boiling the water, grabbing what he figures is the most expensive tea because why not? Chuuya is leaving him alone in the kitchen; Dazai is going to touch everything he can.
It doesn't take long to fill the pot with hot water, tea leaves, and balance it on a tray. Dazai feels ridiculous with this thing--he is someone who drinks tea exclusively from mugs unless otherwise offered--but he carries it without spilling, nudging the half-open door of Chuuya's room with his hip.
He's not dead, at least.]
I thought you were gone. You're so small I could hardly see you under that blanket there.
[It's an insult without much bite, and Dazai sets the tea on the bedside table.]
no subject
And he's relieved, because he'd been too cold to be able to drift off, and too exhausted to do anything about it. He could get his pyjamas, but he'd have to actually get up first. He settles for just sitting up, and then scooting over a bit to make room for Dazai next to him so he can sit on the bed, too. There are two cups on that tray, and the only other option would be for Dazai to sit on the floor.]
Shut up. I considered disappearing to get away from you.
[There's no real sting to that, either, he's clearly just saying it out of habit, and to maintain normalcy between them. As much as that's possible, because it still feels awkward, still feels... he doesn't want to think about how it feels. He wants to get these thoughts out of his head. He reaches up to rub at the bruise on his neck for a second.]
At least you got the good tea.
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I’m going to get away from you as soon as I finish this tea.
[For a moment, the movement Chuuya makes directs Dazai’s attention to his neck, and there are the bruises, ones that would form to Dazai’s hands were he to wrap them around Chuuya’s neck again. He looks away, taking his own cup of tea in hand. The heat is something to distract.]
I’m surprised you had any good tea. Your kitchen is abysmal, by the way. Do you even eat?
[Not that Dazai’s is much better.]
no subject
I order takeout.
[When he's hungry, but he's the type to forget to eat if he's not hungry. He does usually make sure to get a meal in after exercise, but he hasn't been able to do that, either.
He sips his tea. It's good. Dazai didn't burn the leaves, which surprises him a little, but probably shouldn't. Of course he knows how to make tea. Mori probably forced him to learn, since it's not the kind of thing Dazai would care about otherwise. Or maybe it's just another piece of random information he picked up somewhere.]
I bet your kitchen is worse.
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Perhaps if you ate better, your growth wouldn't be so stunted.
[Mori forced Dazai to learn a lot of things--all boring and pointless and annoying, too much work, but at least he knows how to make decent tea. It's come in handy a couple of times, and Dazai hasn't even snuck in anything poisonous this time around. He'll pat himself on the back for making a decent pot, but all of that is really just something to distract from the fact that he's sitting on Chuuya's bed, drinking tea from fancy cups, and they're hardly bickering.
At least Dazai is trying. Chuuya is the one whose attempts are falling flat.]
My kitchen is... [Dazai has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but it actually is worse than Chuuya's. Less alcohol, more empty bottles. Particularly this week. Nobody has come to drag him out of his apartment and force him to clean just yet--it'll probably take a few more days--but at least he has food in there somewhere. Cup noodles count as food.] Excellent. Much better than your shitty kitchen.
no subject
It's pretty weak, but the attempt is there.]
Shut up! It's not stunted!
[He knows he's short, but mostly Dazai is just too tall.
The conversation is slowly getting easier. He's sitting, resting, he's feeling a little bit warmer, a little less like he's seconds from passing out. That weird mood is still there, overshadowing his exhaustion, but he's always been stubborn about hiding his moods when they're such an obvious weakness. He might not be good at it, but he tries.
And these are arguments they've had so many times that he doesn't have to think about what he's saying.]
I bet it's more of a trash pile than a kitchen.
[And they're no longer talking about Chuuya's eating habits. Good.]
no subject
They always get back to how they've been since they met, after all. Nothing changes. They'll go through these same old insults, and it's oddly comforting.]
Maybe I ought to take a lesson from you and live off of nothing but takeout, protein shakes, and wine. I've always wanted to be a head smaller than I am. [Dazai warms his tea with more from the pot, and wordlessly offers Chuuya a refill. This is the nicest he's ever going to be, so Chuuya had better not mention it, ever, or he'll regret it. They just... have to not ever talk about this again. Add it to the list of things they'll pretend never happened. Simple!]
no subject
[He'd hit Dazai again, but they're both drinking tea. At least that's his excuse, but really, he's not in the mood for it. He holds his cup out for Dazai to refill it, appreciating the warmth, and takes a moment to just sip it while he tries to make up his mind about something.
He knows they're not supposed to talk about this.
They've always had that agreement. They never actually officially made any agreement, but they've both always known it's there, since the moment they met. They don't talk about anything. They fight and they bicker and they agree that they hate each other, and if anything happens to indicate otherwise, they both pretend that it didn't. Because they do hate each other. They have to.]
Can I ask you something?
[He might be about to break their agreement.]
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Since when have you asked my permission to do anything?
[It’s not a no, which is as good as a yes. Dazai knows no is exactly what he should be saying, that he ought to be getting up and walking out of here, because he doesn’t want to answer whatever Chuuya wants to ask. He knows, even without hearing what it is.
They don’t need to discuss this. Chuuya really can’t be stupid enough to bring it up, can he?]
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And he has a lot of questions he wants to ask. It's difficult to decide which one seems more important... Part of him wants to talk about how it all felt, being underneath Dazai like that, choked out by him, trusting him. He needs to know how Dazai felt about it all, too, but that wouldn't be fair, he won't be that much of a dick, and Dazai wouldn't give a straight answer anyway. He'd say he hated it.
And it's a betrayal that Chuuya didn't.]
Would you do it again?
[It's... Not what he'd been planning to ask. And he doesn't mean right now, obviously. Just in general.]
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Here is where he could deflect, make a stupid joke, refuse to answer. He could get up and leave. There are so many thing Dazai could do to alter the outcome of this, to keep things normal between them, and even he isn't sure what he'll decide until he does it, swirling the tea in the cup.]
Would I choke you again? Or fuck you again?
[He looks up from the amber liquid, watching Chuuya. There's some weird thing between them that has been there before and never really gone away; this is one of the rare occasions Dazai isn't pushing it under layers and layers of self-hatred and denial, letting it air out, but he's waiting for the split second he needs to deny it again.]
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But it's Chuuya's turn to go quiet for a moment when Dazai asks for clarification. He's not really sure. It's not like he's wanted to think too much about this. He wanted to forget it, he just hasn't been able to, since he hasn't been able to bury himself in work. He hasn't even been able to drown himself in wine, so he's been stuck with the memories of what they did.]
Either. Or something different.
[He finishes his tea, and then just holds the cup against his lips as though it's in any way effective as a shield. At least it's something.]
I know this is the point where you start mocking me.
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If you’re going to ask a question, don’t be vague about it.
[His tea is cooling, but he doesn’t finish it to avoid that. He sits, looking at Chuuya.]
Don’t tell me what to do. [If Dazai wanted to mock Chuuya, he totally would. Could. He will, when Chuuya clarifies the question.]
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Forget it --
[No, he won't do that. He brought it up, so he won't back out like some coward. Dazai won't drop it now anyway.]
We talked about a lot of things other than choking. So I'm not just gonna suggest that one thing.
[At least his defensiveness is almost normal.]
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Why are you bringing this up?
[It's definitely not an answer to Chuuya's question, but two can play at the defensiveness game. Being honest and upfront is not Dazai's thing, anyway, so Chuuya should be prepared for this. At least he isn't laughing it off, or making some insulting joke to shut down the conversation entirely.
...even though he should. Dazai knows he should.]
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(He won't. He'd never use being weak as an excuse.)
He hesitates again.]
Because it pisses me off that we did it when we had no choice.
[That explains nothing, but he still has no idea how to explain it, and he doesn't actually want to.]
Because -- You're the only one who could.
[Maybe that's why he's been feeling this shitty. He shouldn't be feeling this shitty.]
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Still silent, he watches as Chuuya admits more. He knows what Chuuya means; there’s nobody but Dazai who can hold Chuuya down, who can force him to be normal, a human without any sort of special ability, who can’t defend himself any better than a non-ability user could. Dazai doesn’t understand it; he’s never had anyone who made him feel ‘normal’.
That’s not what this is about, though.]
Why are you asking if I’d do it again?
[Or more importantly: why is Chuuya cannonballing his way through what there remains between them? Some tenuous, barely-there remnant. They orbit each other, but don’t get close, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. The way Dazai wants to keep it, and he’d thought that’s what Chuuya had wanted, too. Why would he want anything different?]
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There's nothing left of their relationship, the way he sees it. Dazai chose to leave, after all. So there's nothing to break here.]
Forget it.
[This time he won't offer an explanation after all. Dazai clearly doesn't want to, so Chuuya isn't going to push, not when this is already as uncomfortable as it is. If he was willing to actually analyze his own feelings, he'd call it painful, but he prefers to call it anger and move on. He can be angry at the people who did that to them.]
All you have going for you is that ability anyway.
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