Chances | Dazai X Reader

Seventeen • I Don't Want to Remember the Past

"Thank you."

• • •

He opens his eyes slightly, looking into yours before quickly shutting them again. His lips find yours and he starts peppering kisses, both of his hands cup your face and he's tilting your head upwards the slightest bit.

One thing noted, Dazai's lips are surprisingly soft. From a person like Dazai, you'd expect him to chew or bite on his lips from time to time, but they're practically smooth. And with the way he's repeatedly pressing them against yours? You can't help but enjoy the feeling of it.

He's...good.

Not only that, but the way his lips move against yours? God it's good—just good, no other better adjective describes the moment greater than good. Perfectly molded into the other as both of your minds go blank, not worrying about what's to come after this, not worrying about anything in the world.

Not worrying about the fact of how this may change things between you and Dazai, because it doesn't matter anymore, anything you've once had is broken.

And well, Dazai's attractive, there's no point in even denying that. With the several months you've known each other? I'd be practically impossible to think that this man wasn't pretty, or hot, or—

But the idea of genuinely feeling something for him other than friendship has definitely crossed your mind every once in a while. He's like a walking cliché teenage mess, maybe even worse, actually. But he's caring, he finds it hard to open up to people, but when he does—it's a whole new level of a relationship.

Dazai finds it intimidating.

Because he's never felt like he was crumbling in front of another person. He never felt like he could be liked, loved, wanted, whatever.

All Dazai wants to do right now is cry, let everything, all those bottled years out. But every time he tries to cry, he can't and he doesn't even remember the last time he's actually shed a tear. Because Dazai didn't actually cry that night. Yes, it felt like he was going to, but nothing actually happened other than red eyes stinging from the strain on his whole body and blurry vision.

You slide down your hands from his chest—he shivers lightly at the feeling—before taking them off, moving them to hold onto his wrists, not pulling him away, not pulling him closer, you simply hold onto him. He pushes his body weight backwards, trying to get himself to pull away from you, but his lips keep trailing back to yours. "Sorry," He mumbles, letting his lips go back to yours once more. The kiss is needy, but mixed with an odd sense of comfort. "Sorry," He says, moving back fully.

He lets go of your face, bringing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he swallows loudly, an audible gulp fills the room. Because yeah, it's a great movie moment until it dies down and it's awkward. Even worse, you have to talk about what just happened—and Dazai's so close to just running out of the room.

But he...refrains himself from doing so.

He walks over to his bed, sitting down. You sit on the bed next to him, repeating his actions. "It's okay," You tell him, laughing lightly, trying not to think about his lips again. "I just did something you didn't even-" You cut him off, "Listen, we both initiated that, and it's fine. You're stressed out and that's fine."

He leans his head back, stretching his neck out as he stares at the ceiling above him, "Still feels wrong."

Maybe he's also trying not to rush over to Oda and tell him what just happened, so he tries to act as casual as possible. You know, like he didn't just show how he truly felt. "I'm really trying to not make this sound like we're in middle school," Dazai says, laughing at himself. You laugh with him, letting the room feel something similar to the nights when you and Chuuya lived here, but it's not the same.

"I suppose time will tell. Time will tell a lot of things, actually," You state, looking at the dark oak floor under you.

Oh. God. No.

He panics, reaching into his pocket and pretending someone's calling him, "Hello?" He says in a rush. It's quick. "I have to go," He announces, already getting up from the bed. "We'll talk later?" You nod at him, starting to get up from the bed yourself.

He's out the door in a matter of seconds, but you gather yourself and go back to your own room.

• • •

Why'd you have to say it like that?

He's heading to Bar Lupin, a place where he knows he won't be disturbed at this time of day.

Why'd you have to say the exact same thing he said to Oda before the mission?

"Time will tell a lot of things, actually." And it does, time sets everything that happens. It's fucking wonderful now. Absolutely great that he now freaks out everytime he's reminded of that night, or whenever Corruption is mentioned, because there were so many things he could've done to prevent Chuuya from practically dying.

He sits on the bar stool, waiting for someone to ask him what he wants. He plays with the bandages on his arms. "What can I get you at this hour?" The bartender asks. It's still early, around four, almost five.

"One glass of whiskey."