31 Days Of Dazai

tear-stained

The air is warm and salty, the call of the ocean most certainly reaching him, its humid warmth aluring, attractive, yet the familiarity of it also brought a certain discomfort to him ad he roused. The salty sea-- a familiar scent to him, always wafting towards him while he wandered the Ports, keeping an eye of the workers, making sure they did nothing to cause concern. A symbol of a life and occupation since passed, one of pain and torment, but also a dream.

Dazai rolls over, the thin white curtains billowing in the breeze, morning sun pouring in, lighting the bed up.

There, in front of him, is Odasaku's back, the man clearly still dead asleep, a common occurrence since he'd recently been up all night writing, deadlines keep him very busy, the least he could be awarded is sleeping in a bit.

While the Agency kept Dazai late sometimes, that was rare and Dazai's tendency to wander away during work left him as a last resort overtime worker. So, for the most part he would return early, sidle up beside the busy man and simply sit with him, make no attempt at chatter, not wanting to distract him, merely soaking in each others presence. It was calming, the two sitting so quietly, doing their own thing.

His shoulders slowly rise and fall, and for a moment, the brunette is mesmerized. Watching the man, who's always ever so vigilant, completely relaxed and calm. He's surrendered his control. Dazai could kill him right now, and he wouldn't have a chance to defend himself.

After his moment of staring, slowly Dazai wiggles up to him him and buries his face into his back, breathing in deeply, the smell cigarettes and paper, a comforting scent, and relaxed against him, slinging an arm across the older man and making himself comfortable against him.

Oda stirs, but just barely, and Dazai finds his usually frantic mind bare of thought, everything fading as it is just him and Oda, relaxed and safe.

Safe. Oda is safe, the man always provided him a sense of security, something he couldn't quite understand then, and even now it was still fairly lost on him. But nonetheless, security was a nearly nonexistent commodity in his life, so Dazai latched on hard.

Perhaps he felt a tad bit guilty for taking such a wonderful man, that Oda couldn't find someone better, less sinful and tainted than him, but while he may not be human, he had the gluttonous greed of one, that's for sure.

He held tight to Oda's love, so boundless it was-- when the man first saw him flayed of all bandages he reacted with neither disgust nor horror, rather he merely ran roving, calloused hands across them, caressing the damage with nothing but mute adoration in his eyes.

When Mori saw his scars, his reaction was gleeful and proud, knowing he was the cause of most, while Chuuya's reaction had been blatant disgust, leering at the mutilated flesh.

They'd finished that night with the lights off.

Oda was not gleeful nor disturbed, just calm and honeyed, the man treated the scars as just another part of him-- a specific charm he held that set him apart.

It was a completely new experience, and Dazai had, admittedly, been incredibly stumped for a significant amount of time about it, unable to  comprehend.

Oda let out a deep breath, and Dazai softly sighed against him as well, eyes fluttering shut, wholey prepared to fall back asleep with him.

"... Dazai?" The redheads back rumbled slowly, voice raspy and soft with sleep.

"Mmhm..." The brunettes hums into his back, wrapping his arm around him tighter, further nuzzling against him.

"Mm'what time is it...?" Oda reached backwards and placed his hand lightly down on Dazai's thigh. Dazai's skin was cool to the touch, but Oda's was quite the opposite.

"Its..." Dazai reluctantly rolled away, patting around the side table before blind grasping his phone. Eight thirty one.

"Too early." The brunette whined, and shuffled back to the warmth Oda brought him, selfishly stealing it away.

"We should stay in bed till nine, sleep in a little longer, or..." Dazai leant over Oda and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, grinning.

"No, I think it's a bit too early for that, I think. But sleeping in a little while long surely wouldn't hurt." The scruffy man chuffed out a laugh and pulled Dazai the rest of the way over him, wrapping his arms around the shorter man and burying his face into his collarbone.

"I've become Odasaku's pillow...!" Dazai gasped, shocked sounding but clearly playing it up.

"And you're a comfy pillow too." Oda murmured into his chest, causing Dazai to giggle, body hitching slightly as he did so.

They settled into the new position, Oda practically lying on top of Dazai, one of his feet hanging off of the end of the bed, his four o'clock shadow pressing into his scarred body, a feeling he once despised but now craved.

The brunette slung his arms over the mans shoulders and down his back, melting into the embrace well and proper, relaxing against the mattress, head turning to find a comfortable place on the pillow, and lastly, his eyes fluttering shut once more.

Previously, Oda had been completely st his mercy, open and easy to attack at any moment, but the roles had now swapped and Dazai was in that position.

Keeping people in positions of vulnerability had been his job for most of his life, whether through torture or threatening, he kept people beneath his boot, writhing and whining to flee. Simultaneously, he had been in the exact same situation with Mori as he had forced others into. Mori had tortured him into submission, offered him a form of peace within himself before leveraging it above him.

That was an all too familiar feeling.

There was a time he'd have despised that, despised losing control and not having the complete upper hand of any and all situations, but now, embracing Oda Sakunosuke, he couldn't help but feel safer than ever.

There, in that bed, completely vulnerable, Dazai drifted back to sleep with a feeling of partnership, completely safe.

He slept soundly in his lover's arms.

~~~~

When Dazai awoke, it was to a cold bed and a tear stained pillow.