★彡[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ]彡★

(Not) Be(ing) Here

The world burst back into focus.

At once, the sea of red that had coated everything shattered into a million pieces, color swelling back into Chuuya's vision as the frigid sting of wind chased away the fiery heats of calamity.

The executive hissed at the sudden stab of pain, air whistling crudely between his teeth. 

Without the senseless adrenaline that came with Corruption, the exhaustion began settling in rapidly. Where he had once felt fierce and indestructible, he now felt exposed, vulnerable, and very very cold.

"Can you stand?"

The first thing Chuuya noticed about Dazai's voice was that it was close. Too close. He could feel the exhale of warm breath against his face, all too aware of how dangerously near it was to his dumbly parted lips.

He tilted his head back ever so slightly, wide eyed gaze landing on Dazai's glittering one. It was only when he moved did he notice Dazai's hands were wound in his hair, left thumb brushing the spot on his cheek where the crimson spirals had just faded.

It took Chuuya a full minute before he remembered how to speak.

"No."

His voice ended up coming out slightly more irritated than he meant it to. But that didn't seem to bother Dazai, who merely chuckled and withdrew, holding out his bandaged arms in invitation.

Chuuya, lacking the strength to do much else, tumbled into them immediately.

"Let...go of me..." Chuuya rasped, cheeks burning as the detective's hands folded over his back, " God dammit Dazai, let...go of me..."

"But if I do that," Dazai teased gently, "You'll fall."

"Then...let me fall...you moron..."

Chuuya broke off into a shuddering bout of coughs, dimly aware of Dazai pulling him even closer.

He was too weak to struggle, so he didn't even bother. Instead he went slack against the detective's warmth, blinking rapidly to offset the little black dots dancing at the edge of his vision. 

Everything hurt...so much...

"Ah, there you go." Dazai hummed once Chuuya's tense form loosened, "Much better. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Chuuya felt as much as he heard Dazai's voice reverberate in his chest, causing the mafia executive to melt with an obscenely warm and fuzzy feeling. 

He swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how dry his throat was and the rhythmic thrum of his own heart against his ribcage.

It was around that moment he decided that he was actually very glad Dazai hadn't let go of him. Partly because the only alternative was the ground. And maybe just partly because there was something very reassuring about the reminder that Dazai was here.

He was safe. They were both safe. And sometimes it felt like that was the only thing that mattered. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Chuuya began letting himself calm down. 

That was of course, until he remembered just what this feeling was:

I'm in love with Osamu freaking Dazai.

Panic shot through Chuuya. With a gasp, he looked up only to see Dazai smiling down at him. A smile that became somewhat confused at Chuuya's sudden urgency.

Because his luck really was that terrible, the moon happened to be reflecting ethereally in Dazai's deep thoughtful eyes, the stars surrounding him in a faint, silvery halo. He looked unreal. He looked impossible.