Chapter Text
Getting called to the hospital wing of the Port Mafia is not something Chuuya can say has ever happened to him before, but when the boss wants you somewhere, you go. He knocks on the door he was directed to, and when called to enter, he hears the tail end of Mori saying, “...got you a caretaker.” Well, that’s ominous, but Chuuya decides to ignore it for now, a decision he’ll soon regret.
Entering the hospital room, he sees Mori sitting on the other side of the hospital bed and, ugh, Dazai lying propped up in the bed. Attention caught by the sound of the door, Dazai turns and sneers upon seeing Chuuya. He whips back around and says, “No. Absolutely not, Mori.”
Mori chides Dazai as Chuuya walks up. He stands next to the bed but keeps his distance. You don’t want to get too close. “You wanted to see me, Boss?” he asks.
Mori smiles. Oh no. “Oh, yes. Thank you for coming.” Chuuya can almost see the daggers Dazai is glaring at Mori. “As you can see, Dazai has had a couple of unfortunate accidents resulting in the temporary loss of use of his arms.”
Chuuya looks over at Dazai, who, sure enough, has a cast around each arm. The cast on his right arm ends above his elbow, completely encasing his hand, and is supported by a sling. The one on his left leaves his fingers exposed and lets him freely move his elbow, at least, but that isn’t a lot when your other arm is useless. Chuuya is getting a bad feeling about this.
Mori looks like the cat that ate the canary when Chuuya looks back at him. So much so that Chuuya is half tempted to look around for little yellow feathers. Mori continues, “Due to his condition, Dazai will need someone to look after him and help him do things in the meantime.”
“Mori…” Dazai growls. Chuuya can feel his lip curling in disgust. Maybe he should’ve just skipped work today.
“I’d like you to act as his caretaker, Chuuya.”
And the other shoe drops, ladies and gentlemen! Now, watch as Chuuya decides if he should kill Dazai for being stupid enough to break both arms, or Mori for making him care for said idiot! What a tough decision, folks. Who will he choose?
Chuuya is broken from his daydream when Mori speaks after a dramatic pause. “It shouldn’t last too long, only about six weeks. Then Dazai can get his casts off and function independently again.” Chuuya can barely keep himself from outright glaring. It’d be extremely disrespectful, but, man, is it tempting. “Dazai, your discharge should be ready within the hour. I’ve delegated most of you two’s duties. You’ll only have to keep up with paperwork.” Mori claps and stands. “Well, I’ll leave you to it!” And just like that, Mori leaves, as if he didn’t just ensure Chuuya’s life will be a living hell for at least six weeks.
“Your face is gonna freeze like that, you know. Although it might be an improvement over the norm.” Chuuya snaps his head around to glare at Dazai. The bastard also looks pretty irritated, so at least Chuuya isn’t the only one upset.
“Shut up! How’d you even break both arms anyway?” Chuuya turns and puts his hands on his hips.
Dazai scoffs and looks away. Chuuya thinks he sees a hint of red on his visible cheek. It must be embarrassing. He’ll get it out of Dazai one way or another. “Doesn’t matter. I’m hungry! They brought my lunch a bit ago. Why doesn’t my obedient dog feed its master?”
Chuuya can feel his lip twitching with the urge to sneer. “I swear to god I’m gonna kill you one of these days. I’m only doing this because the boss ordered it.” Chuuya stalks over to the tray left on the hospital table. There’s a bowl of soup and some utensils waiting for him. He grabs the soup and a spoon and walks over to the side of the bed. “Move your legs, or I’m gonna sit on them.”
Dazai obliges and moves his legs over. Chuuya sits, folding one leg underneath his body and leaving the other hanging off the bed. He gets a nice spoonful of soup (even blows on it!), but when he goes to hold it up for Dazai, he’s interrupted. “Higher up here, Chibi~.” He’s pointing at his mouth with a stupid smile, and oh, if Chuuya could just punch him…
He holds the spoon up to Dazai’s mouth, and Dazai eats it. Chuuya pulls the spoon back and says, “I could pour all of this soup on you right now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Dazai frowns but refrains from making any more snide remarks as he’s fed.
They’re nearly done when a nurse comes in and tells Dazai that he’s been discharged and is free to go whenever. It’s a testament to the professionalism of the nurses employed by the Port Mafia that she hardly bats an eye at the Demon Prodigy being fed by someone he publicly hates. Though Chuuya imagines Dazai and his shenanigans are frequent flyers here.
He sets the bowl and spoon back on the tray they came from. Dazai has managed to get out of bed and is standing impatiently next to the door. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, the freak.
Chuuya gets to the door and opens it with a sarcastic flourish. Dazai smirks as he walks through, looking way more full of himself than anyone who broke both of their arms should. A thank you would be nice, especially when you can’t even open a door on your own. Whatever.
Chuuya tells Dazai he needs to grab some stuff from his office, and they head off. Of course, nothing can be easy. Dazai keeps running ahead to each door and grinning like a little shit until Chuuya catches up and opens it. At least he can get the elevator by pushing the buttons with his feet. That said, Dazai does try to close the doors before he can catch up. Chuuya threatens to throw Dazai down the stairs.
Chuuya grabs what he needs and arranges a car to meet them outside. He asks if Dazai needs anything, but he just says he’ll delegate everything further. The only thing he can’t push off onto someone else is the report for last night’s raid. The slimy fish bastard can’t even be bothered to do his job. Chuuya grabs an extra report form, and they head out.
To Chuuya’s utmost relief, Dazai denies needing anything from the cesspool surrounded shipping container he has the audacity to call a home. Chuuya thinks he might actually die if he has to go there.
They get to his apartment unscathed, and Dazai tries to open the door with his foot, but obviously, it’s locked. He pouts, and Chuuya asks, “Why don’t you try picking the lock with your toes?!” thoroughly fed up with the antics. He just wants to shower and go to sleep. Who cares if it’s the middle of the day?
Oh god. He’s going to have to help Dazai bathe.
He shakes his head and resolves to deal with that… later.
As soon as they get into his place and lose their shoes, Dazai runs over to jump straight onto the couch, using one leg and his exposed fingers to pull a blanket over himself. He then declares, “I’m thirsty!” as if he expects Chuuya to do something about that. Well, he will, but that’s beside the point. The point is that he’s lazy. Lying there as if this is great fun.
Chuuya shoots him a half-there glare and goes to put the paperwork he’d brought home on the desk in his room. His ladyship can wait a minute. Chuuya knows he’s not dying of dehydration. He does take the blank report back out with him. Better to get it over with sooner than later.
On his way to the kitchen, he drops the form on the table. Chuuya grabs a glass and fills it with water. He brings it over to Dazai and realizes that straws are going to be a necessity if he doesn’t want to give Dazai all his drinks by hand. He doesn’t think Dazai wants that, either. They’ll have to go shopping tomorrow or something.
Still, he holds the glass out, and Dazai leans forward to put his lips to the glass. Chuuya slowly tilts it back as Dazai drinks. He makes sure Dazai doesn’t drink too fast, but he isn’t given any indication that Dazai wants him to stop. Chuuya touches a hand to the top of Dazai’s head, and abruptly he begins choking.
Chuuya yanks the glass away and sets it on the coffee table, probably spilling some as Dazai coughs. He pulls Dazai up until he’s sitting and smacks him on the back a couple times (gently, can’t have the bastard breaking anything else on his watch). That seems to do the trick, and really, it’s Chuuya’s fault. Obviously, you’ll choke if you drink something while lying down. What was he thinking?
Dazai clears his throat a couple times and rasps out, “Oh god. Are you trying to kill me?” His face is bright red, natural after something like that.
“I’m not trying to kill you! Sit up next time you want something to drink!” Chuuya huffs and crosses his arms. Just because he should’ve mentioned it before doesn’t mean he has to own up to it now. He does feel a little bad, especially when Dazai lays back again, and Chuuya notices his shirt has water spilled on it. The shirt is also not a shirt, but instead, a hospital gown. Dazai should probably get something else to wear soon. A hospital gown and matching pants aren’t that comfortable.
Dazai sighs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. If you’re done trying to drown me, I’m going to take a nap.” He wiggles down into the couch, pulling at the blanket as much as he can with his exposed fingers.
“Do you want to change first? There’s water on your clothes.” Chuuya already knows the answer, though, and so takes the corners of the blanket to flick it out over Dazai, shaking out any wrinkles that form.
Dazai hums negatively. “I’d like to keep my dignity for at least a little longer.” He sounds annoyed, but from the shift of his eye, Chuuya can tell he’s nervous.
Chuuya would never admit it, but he is too. He’d helped kids in the Sheep who were sick before, but the difference between a cold and two broken arms is huge. He’s a little out of his depth. Chuuya does know that Dazai is a side sleeper, so he grabs a couple of throw pillows and tucks them under Dazai’s arms for support and comfort. Dazai already sleeps badly enough, and this isn’t going to help.
Satisfied with how he’s tucked Dazai in, Chuuya nods and steps back from the couch. “Do you need anything else before you go to sleep?”
Dazai shakes his head, and Chuuya notices his face is still red. Must be residual from the choking. Whatever.
“Alright. I’m gonna work on some stuff. After your nap, we’ll do that report you needed to do.” Dazai hums noncommittally and shoves his face partially underneath the blanket. Chuuya rolls his eyes and heads off to his room. He’ll let Dazai sleep as long as he can. Sleep helps healing, and with how little of it Dazai gets anyway, there’s no reason to interrupt it.
The first thing he does is change clothes into something more casual. A t-shirt and jeans will do when working from home.
Chuuya manages to get a productive couple of hours in while Dazai sleeps. He finishes all the paperwork he’d wanted to do today, plans some meals (mostly crab, call him indulgent), and puts together a shopping list. If Dazai isn’t going to get clothes from his hovel, then Chuuya will have to buy some. The only reason he could even offer for Dazai to change was that after too many times of Dazai stretching the legs of Chuuya’s sweatpants, he’d caved and bought a couple pairs of sweats as well as a few shirts and a hoodie for the bastard. Unfortunately, so few clothes will only last so long, so shopping it is.
He does wonder what happened to Dazai’s usual suit, but he can always ask about that later.
…Does Dazai even own any leisure wear that Chuuya hasn’t bought him? Chuuya’s only ever seen him in that suit or clothes he has for Dazai, so he can only assume, but that just seems… sad. Chuuya often calls him lazy, but he’s not stupid enough to think that it isn’t another of Dazai’s infinite facades. Maybe this can be a nice vacation for both of them, broken arms notwithstanding.
“Chuuya?”
If Chuuya nearly uses his ability to pick up his desk chair and hurl at Dazai just because he was startled, then that’s no one’s business but his own. Thankfully, the only part of that action he completes is standing up. Dazai is smirking at him, though, so Chuuya already knows he can’t play it off. Better to just ignore it, then. “Sleep well?” It’s weak, but Chuuya is still recovering from the adrenaline rush. He might have forgotten that Dazai can still walk just fine.
“Well enough. Is dinner soon?” Dazai seems content to let this one go.
“No? You just ate lunch, and it’s barely four now. You can’t possibly be that hungry yet.” Dazai pouts. “And besides, you gotta do that report. I’m not letting you get out of it.”
Dazai purses his lips. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
“Nope.” Chuuya grabs a pen and heads to the dining table where he’d left the form. “You gotta do it, and I’m not risking Mori breathing down my neck about it. Speaking of, how are you going to foist all of the rest of your work off on other people when you don’t even have your phone?”
Dazai shrugs. “We can swing by HQ tomorrow and pick it up. Or I could borrow yours.”
“Not happening.” Chuuya snaps as he takes a seat and grabs the form.
“Tomorrow it is, then. Don’t you know I’ve suffered a traumatic injury?” Dazai makes a faux innocent face. “I’m sure people will understand if it takes me a bit to get back to boring, old bureaucracy.”
“Uh-huh.” Chuuya looks at him unimpressed, “Well, I’m not people, so we’re doing this now.”
“Fine…” Dazai pulls out a chair with his foot and sits. He rests his head on the table and sulks, but at least he isn’t trying to get out of it anymore.
It goes relatively painlessly. Dazai’s account lacks details, but Chuuya can extrapolate and fill in just fine. Dazai does get up at one point to pace around as Chuuya finishes writing a paragraph.
As Chuuya writes the next part, Dazai leans over his shoulder to read. Chuuya can feel his face get hot, but he tries to ignore it and keep writing. He isn’t used to such attention from Dazai. It’s kind of-
“Chibi, you spelled something wrong.” Oh, for god’s sake!
Chuuya feels the pen crunch in his grip and hears his teeth grind. That bastard! “Why don’t you fix your hands and write your report yourself!” He forces himself to let go of the shattered remains of the pen and is glad that he didn’t break the inkwell. He’s lost too much paperwork to that already.
Dazai finally leans away and puts his left hand to his hip. “I would if I could. Sue me for wanting to make sure my report is filled out properly.”
Chuuya sighs and brushes the pen’s broken body into one hand. He stands and throws it away in the kitchen trash can. A waste of a perfectly good pen. Goodbye, friend! You’ll be missed.
Chuuya goes to grab another one from his room, and when he returns, Dazai is sitting back down with his head resting on the table. Maybe this time, they’ll actually finish it. Chuuya amends the spelling mistake and asks, “Alright. You’d fallen, then what happened?”
Dazai hums. “Had my arm out.” He shrugs his right shoulder to indicate which one. “Went under a car tire, vroom. You can guess the rest.”
Jesus. Mackerel hadn’t been joking when he said traumatic injury. “Which bones broke?” Chuuya asks incredulously.
“Just the radius and ulna. Also dislocated my elbow and wrist, though, hence the whole production I’ve got going on here.”
“And they think that’ll heal in six weeks?” Injuries of that severity seem like they should take longer.
Dazai shrugs. “Apparently, my X-rays weren’t a complete horror show.”
“Here’s hoping.” Hope indeed! The less time this takes the better.
Chuuya writes that with actual details, and they go back to writing as they were before. It doesn’t take too much longer to finish the report. Chuuya insists on Dazai using the pen to put some kind of squiggle in the signature box and adds a note, saying that it was dictated to him. Sure, someone could look at the content and guess well enough why it wasn’t written by Dazai, but Chuuya is a big believer in the Cover Your Ass method.
Now that he thinks about it, Dazai never said his left arm was broken during the events of this report, did he? Chuuya skims through it again, and as he’d thought, there’s no mention of Dazai’s left arm anywhere. “How’d you break your left arm anyway?”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter for the report,” Dazai mutters and goes to turn his head the other way, but Chuuya just steps around Dazai’s chair to the other side. Dazai glares at him, and Chuuya can see a little bit of a blush.
“How’d you break it, huh?” Dazai was embarrassed about it earlier, too, so it must be really stupid. Chuuya still doesn’t get an answer, which means it’s time to resort to drastic measures.
He heads over to the kitchen and grabs a pair of scissors out of his junk drawer. He opens them, puts the report between them, and says, “I’ll cut this right up and tell Mori you’re being uncooperative.” It’s underhanded, and something Dazai would be more likely to do, but Chuuya doesn’t think Dazai will tell him any other way, so… Who cares? Chuuya wouldn’t actually do it, and that’s what matters. He thinks, at least.
Dazai’s look of indecision is delightful. Chuuya closes the scissors a little more, and Dazai looks pained before finally blurting out, “Fine, I’ll tell you. Don’t cut it up.”
Chuuya smirks and pulls the scissors away. He still holds onto them, though. Just in case.
“I’d just gotten my right arm cast on, and I wasn’t used to its weight. When I stood up I…” Dazai hesitates, his expression an interesting mix of anger and indignity. “I fell and broke it trying to catch myself. Happy now?” Dazai faces away but can’t completely hide the blush that’s taken over his face.
Chuuya stares, mouth agape. “That’s how you broke it?” Dazai huffs but otherwise refuses to acknowledge him. Chuuya laughs incredulously. He never knew Dazai could be so clumsy. That’s incredible.
Dazai glares at him now. “As if you’re the perfect picture of grace. I saw you trip on the end of Kouyou’s kimono once.”
Fair, but Chuuya thinks he’s at least good enough not to break his arms from a fall like that. “Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll make crab for dinner, you big baby. Will that help?”
Dazai gives him a skeptical look but nods. That’s tonight's dinner plan taken care of. Chuuya says as much, and Dazai’s suspicions seem to be assuaged. The report had taken long enough that dinner wouldn't be crazy early. It will be somewhat early, but Chuuya is exhausted, and the sooner this day is over, the better. He doubts Dazai will mind, either. It’s not obvious, but Chuuya can tell he’s more tired than he’s been letting on.
Crab cakes are easy and tasty, so Chuuya decides to make them. He’s made them enough times that he’s memorized the recipe by now. Chuuya also has canned crab readily available because it’s easier than dealing with constant complaints from Dazai when he’s being a leech.
As he begins preparing the meal, Chuuya hears Dazai wander off. He should be more concerned about letting Dazai wander around his place unbidden, but hopefully, the broken arms will deter most of his mischief. He rolls his eyes and puts his hair into a small ponytail.
Chuuya has finished mixing all the ingredients when Dazai comes back. This time, entering the kitchen and watching Chuuya work. He doesn’t say anything, and Chuuya can’t be bothered to start a conversation. The only sound is from crackling oil in the pan as he puts the first batch of cakes in to fry.
Dazai keeps hovering around awkwardly as Chuuya tends to the food. He’s got his left hand to his mouth, almost like he’s thinking, though the cast does make it look silly. Dazai’s cheeks are pink. He almost looks… No. It doesn’t matter.
Chuuya’s half tempted to ask what the Mackerel’s deal is, but as long as he isn’t being a nuisance, Chuuya will let him be.
Soon enough, the crab cakes are finished and piled onto a plate. Chuuya brings them over to the table and sets them down. He heads back into the kitchen and grabs two plates and forks. He turns around, intending to set spots at the table, only to see Dazai sitting at the table, having somehow pulled the plate of crab cakes in front of him. He’s wearing a self-satisfied smirk.
“You know you can’t even eat without my help?” Chuuya pushes the crab back to the middle of the table and sets the proper places. Dazai frowns at him. “Well, I guess you could eat like a dog…” Chuuya raises a brow at the now glaring Dazai.
“I’d sooner starve.”
“Suit yourself.” Chuuya chuckles as he fills two glasses with water and brings them over, making the final touch to their meal. “How many do you want?”
“All of them.” Chuuya should’ve known he’d say that.
Chuuya sets their glasses down and uses his fork to put two crab cakes on each of their plates. No sides to go with them. Dazai wouldn’t have eaten anything else anyway. He takes a bite of one of his crab cakes and nods in approval. He would never admit it out loud, but he’s slowly coming around to crab.
Chuuya takes Dazai’s fork and gets a bite. He holds it out to Dazai, who eats it with a happy hum. “Just let me know if you want some water.” Dazai nods.
Dinner goes by relatively easily, with Chuuya alternating between taking a bite and feeding Dazai, interspersed with breaks to drink water. He’s surprised by how quiet Dazai’s been the whole time he was cooking and now while eating. Chuuya figures he’ll chalk it up to fatigue.
Dazai winds up eating three crab cakes to Chuuya’s two, but he figured that would happen. He covers the last three and puts them in the fridge. Dazai will probably want them for breakfast. As he gathers the dishes, he says, “I figured we’d drop by the office tomorrow for your phone and stuff, then go shopping. Are you sure there’s nothing you want from your place?”
Dazai shakes his head. “Nothing I need there.”
“Not even gonna get clothes?” Chuuya asks as he sets the dishes in the sink and begins washing them.
“A suit would be hard to wear with these casts.”
“A suit? Hold on-” Chuuya flicks off the water and turns around. Dazai is still seated at the dining table. “Do you only wear suits? All the time? What do you sleep in?”
Dazai looks slightly sheepish, and the embarrassed blush is back. “I just take off my jacket and tie. It’s no big deal.”
“No big-? Dazai!” Chuuya laughs incredulously. “You can’t just wear suits! Especially not to sleep in! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I untuck my shirt.” Dazai weakly defends. God, even the tips of his ears are glowing red. Chuuya wishes he had a camera.
Chuuya shakes his head at Dazai, shocked that he’s still alive. For a genius, he sure is stupid. Chuuya gets back to the dishes and says, “Not anymore. Tomorrow you’re getting regular clothes that aren’t a suit. When your arms are better, you’ll take them back to that dump heap you call a house and use them. I swear if I ever find out you’ve slept in a fucking suit again…” Unbelievable.
When Chuuya finishes the dishes, he finds Dazai still at the table, this time with his feet up on the tabletop staring off into nothing. It must be boring not being able to use your arms to do anything. But that doesn’t excuse Dazai from putting his feet on the table.
Chuuya goes over and swipes Dazai’s legs off the table, startling him out of his thoughts. “Don’t put your feet on my table.” Dazai rolls his eyes. Chuuya sighs. It’s still too early to think about going to bed. Mindless entertainment it is, then. “You want to watch TV?”
“Sure.” Dazai gets up, and they wander over to the couch. Chuuya grabs the blanket from where Dazai had left it strewn earlier and folds it up, throwing it over the back of the couch. He also puts the pillows back into their proper places before sitting down.
Chuuya looks around for the remote and hears a whistle to his left. He looks over at Dazai, sitting curled up with the remote held precariously between his index and middle fingers. Chuuya tries to swipe for it, but Dazai yanks it away. “You can’t even use it. Just give me the remote, Dazai.”
Dazai hums in mock contemplation. “No. I don’t think so. You’re going to put something stupid on.” Dazai lifts his right foot and shifts the remote so he’s holding it between his fingers and foot. Gross.
“Dazai, just give it to me.” Chuuya tries to grab it again and finds Dazai’s other foot shoved under his chin to keep him away. He grabs Dazai’s ankle, about to pull it away, when Dazai puts his right foot (still holding the remote with his left arm) behind his head, smirking the whole way.
Chuuya doesn’t have a mirror, but if he had to guess, he’d say his expression is probably one of shocked horror. That’s messed up. That’s seriously fucked up.
He’s broken out of his revulsion by Dazai clenching the toes on the foot under Chuuya’s chin, essentially caressing his jaw. Now, he slaps Dazai’s leg away and jerks back.
“Ugh. Don’t do that, you freak. What’s wrong with you?” Dazai folds his leg back into himself and shrugs. A gesture that would typically look fine, but with two broken arms and a leg behind his head, it’s kind of horrifying. The innocent smile isn’t helping at all.
“I want the remote. I want to choose what we watch. I was just injured, you know.”
Chuuya sighs frustratedly. “You can choose what we watch half the time as long as you knock that off and don’t do it again.”
“Half? I want three-quarters.”
“Three-fifths.”
“Two-thirds, take it or leave it.”
Chuuya glares but says, “Fine. Just give me the remote. If you try to do it, we’ll be here all day.”
Dazai smiles in earnest now. “Deal.” He pulls his leg out from behind his head, which is no less horrifying to watch than when Dazai put it there in the first place. He gives the remote to Chuuya, and they both settle back in.
Dazai chooses some nature documentary, which Chuuya will begrudgingly admit is entertaining enough. They rarely watch things together, both preferring video games, but it’s a little hard to use a controller without hands. If this is what Dazai likes to watch, then Chuuya might have to introduce him to some actual shows.
Soon enough, the documentary finishes. Chuuya asks if Dazai wants to watch anything else, which Dazai declines. Chuuya turns off the TV and stretches. He’s been dreading this all day, but he really can’t put it off any longer. “We should bathe.”
Predictably, Dazai is upset. “Bathing is not a we activity, slug.”
“Yeah, but we both know you can’t do it on your own.” Chuuya looks over at Dazai. He’s scowling but not at anything in particular. Probably just the entire situation.
Chuuya lets Dazai take his time, and eventually, Dazai relents and says, “Fine. Better sooner than later, I guess.”
Chuuya nods and stands. “Okay. Meet me in the bathroom. I’ll get something to cover your casts.” Dazai groans but makes his way to the bathroom.
When Chuuya comes in, Dazai has already shimmied his pants off and is sitting on the closed toilet. There’s a thick layer of bandages covering both legs, so it’s not like anything is exposed yet.
Chuuya brought a couple garbage bags and duct tape, not having anything better to keep the water off of Dazai’s casts. Another thing to add to the shopping list.
“I figured we’d take a bath together just to make it easiest, you know?”
Dazai nods. Chuuya can see him mentally checking out. That’s not healthy, and Chuuya doesn’t feel good about doing anything to Dazai when he isn’t fully there.
He taps Dazai on the shoulder, and Dazai blinks back to awareness. Chuuya has never been quite sure how Dazai feels about being touched. Everyone in the mafia is terrified at the thought of crossing the Demon Prodigy and gives him a wide berth, but Chuuya has never seen Dazai go out of his way to avoid it. Sure, he hasn’t exactly been dishing out physical affection, but he figures this is probably the best time to ask about it.
“I’m going to have to touch you a lot… Is that alright, Dazai?”
Dazai hums and says, “Yeah, it’s fine.” Chuuya still isn’t sure but shrugs and takes Dazai at his word.
“Okay. I’m gonna get the bath running, then we can undress and cover your arms.” He steps over to the bath and starts getting the water to a good temperature. It takes a while to find a temperature he thinks will be good since Dazai likes his baths hot enough to cook in. Chuuya also mixes in some soap so that there will be bubbles enough that Dazai won’t feel too exposed without his bandages.
“While we’re out tomorrow, we need to get literally anything else to cover the casts. There’s no way I’m letting you duct tape my arms every day.”
Chuuya chuckles as he plugs the bath and stands. “You don’t want to let me wax your arm hair off, Dazai?”
Dazai scoffs. “You know I hate pain.”
“And yet you still manage to wind up with two broken arms.” Chuuya steps over to Dazai and helps him up. “I’m gonna take your hospital gown off now.” Dazai hums his assent and turns around so Chuuya can access the ties on the back. He carefully pulls each bow apart, and the back panels fall open, exposing Dazai’s bandaged back. Rather than trying to pull the sleeves over the casts, even though they’d be wide enough, Chuuya pulls apart the snap closures on the shoulders and lets the gown fall. Dazai kicks it into the same corner as the pants.
Dazai turns back around and mutters something Chuuya can’t quite catch over the sound of the faucet running.
“What was that?”
“I said, it’s alright for you to take the bandages off. I don’t mind.” He’s turned his face away, and Chuuya only just manages to hear him.
Chuuya nods. He knows the bandages can be a sensitive subject, and he’s glad Dazai hasn’t chosen this hill to die on. Chuuya grabs a pair of bandage scissors from underneath the sink. Those and the pile of bandages are another side effect of Dazai’s many unannounced stays here.
Chuuya carefully slides the scissors through the bandages wrapped around Dazai’s neck and gently cuts them off, tossing them in the trash. Dazai moves so Chuuya can cut his bandages off with ease. Getting the ones from around his arms is a little tricky with the casts, but Chuuya manages, and soon enough, all the bandages are off. Finally, he takes the sling and sets it on the counter. Dazai shivers even as steam fills the room. It must feel cold without the bandages he wears as a second skin.
“Alright. Let’s cover your casts.” Dazai nods to that, and Chuuya grabs the garbage bags and helps Dazai put each arm through one. He cuts them down so they aren’t too long. Then Chuuya wraps duct tape around their ends, checking for anywhere water might leak in and smoothing it over for proper adherence.
“Ugh. It’s gonna hurt so much to pull off.” Dazai gripes as Chuuya helps him stand.
“Yeah, yeah. Let me take off your underwear and then get in the tub. The sooner this is over, the sooner I don’t have to hear you whine.”
“The sooner I don’t have to hear you whine,” Dazai parrots in a whiney tone. “Fine.”
Chuuya pulls Dazai’s underwear off and tosses it into the corner, and Dazai steps into the bath. He sinks in with a content sigh until he’s only visible from the nose up, bubbles surrounding his face.
Chuuya huffs a laugh, at which Dazai glares, face red, but Chuuya pays him no mind. He turns the water off and makes quick work of stripping off his own clothes, then steps into the bath next to Dazai. The water is hotter than he’d prefer, but it’ll cool off. Chuuya feels his knee knock against Dazai’s as he lets himself relax for a moment before he gets to business.
Dazai turns to look at Chuuya when he grabs the shampoo and squeezes some into his hand. His face is still red, but Chuuya figures it’s probably from being so close to the too-hot water. Honestly, he isn’t sure how Dazai hasn’t breathed in bubbles yet. “Turn around so I can wash your hair.” He says softly. Dazai obeys, and Chuuya begins massaging the shampoo into Dazai’s scalp. He knows it must feel good as Dazai sighs under his touch. “Close your eyes. I don’t want to blind you.”
Chuuya doesn’t know what Dazai’s usual hygiene routine is, but it isn’t hard to guess that it’s not good. He wouldn’t be surprised if the mackerel told him he uses dish soap as shampoo. Well, for the next few weeks, Chuuya is going to force Dazai to indulge in all the nice soaps he has. Take that, you self-loathing bastard!
After Chuuysa finishes Dazai’s hair, he takes his hair down and shampoos it, not taking as much time with it. When he finishes, he leaves his hair to sit and taps Dazai’s shoulder. Dazai looks at him and raises his brows questioningly. His eyes look a little glassy. Hmm.
Chuuya sets his hand on Dazai’s shoulder. He said he was fine being touched, right? “I gotta rinse your hair, okay? Tilt your head back.”
Dazai obliges and tilts his head back, closing his eyes again. Some bubbles stick to his face, and Chuuya barely stifles a laugh. There’s a perfect bubble moustache on Dazai’s face. Oh, that’s beautiful.
…Beautiful?
Chuuya shakes his head. Weird word choice aside, he scoops water up in his hands and pours it over Dazai’s head. He’s careful to avoid spilling it on Dazai’s face. He would say it’s because he doesn’t want Dazai to complain, but Dazai has been uncharacteristically quiet. Chuuya isn’t sure what to make of it, but in an equally uncharacteristic move, he’s decided to trust Dazai to let him know if something is wrong. His skin is still so red, though.
The rest of the bath proceeds calmly. Dazai is still oddly compliant, but Chuuya isn’t going to argue against it. He unplugs the bath and steps out, grabbing two towels. He dries off with one, ties it around his waist, and sets the other around his shoulders. Chuuya also pulls a couple of stools out, placing the smaller one in front of the taller one. He looks over at Dazai, who is still sitting in the tub.
Dazai averts his gaze from where he had been staring at Chuuya and frowns. “If I get up on my own, I’m gonna slip and break my legs.”
Chuuya furrows his brows. “Seriously?” Dazai nods. “Fine, I'll help you out of the tub.” He says with an eye roll. Chuuya gets his hands under Dazai’s arms and begins helping him stand up. Dazai put his left arm over Chuuya’s right, and once he was standing, they shifted to that being Dazai’s only support. Miraculously! Dazai doesn’t slip and break both arms again!
Chuuya grabs a towel to dry Dazai off with and then has him sit on the shorter stool. Chuuya rubs Dazai down, removing most of the water and any residual bubbles. He drops this towel across Dazai’s lap and moves to begin pulling off the makeshift cast cover. “This is probably going to hurt a little bit.”
Dazai sighs and says, “Just get it over with quickly.”
Chuuya gets a corner of duct tape up and takes a deep breath before ripping as much of it off in one go as he can. Dazai’s face pinches, but that’s the only reaction he gets. He tries to make as quick of work of it as possible, only happy once he’s shoving it all in the garbage. He hears Dazai let out a quiet sigh. Chuuya doesn’t acknowledge it, figuring Dazai deserves what little dignity he still has left.
Chuuya grabs one last towel and hops onto the taller stool behind Dazai. He drops this one over Dazai’s head and begins rubbing it dry. Dazai whines a bit at the rough treatment, and Chuuya eases up. For being relatively short, Dazai’s hair holds water well, so it takes him a while to get it to stop dripping. And if he mutters a few rude comments about Dazai’s height while he’s at it, then that’s no one’s business but his own.
Chuuya’s certainly not missing the typical height jabs he has to endure.
Chuuya tosses the towel he used to dry Dazai’s hair over a towel rack and asks, “I’m going to get clothes for both of us. Do you mind if I get dressed quickly? Do you need anything before then?”
Dazai shakes his head at both questions, so Chuuya pops into his bedroom. He gets into the first pair of sweatpants and sleep shirt he finds and grabs an outfit for Dazai. He’s back in the bathroom in less than a minute.
Dazai appears to be practicing deep breathing when Chuuya returns. He doesn’t blame him. It must be stressful to be so suddenly stripped of your privacy. Chuuya lets Dazai have a moment as he finishes drying his hair and hangs up his towels.
Chuuya sets the clothes on the counter and pulls out a few rolls of bandages. The scissors are still on the counter from earlier. “Do you want me to dry you off anymore or just get to the bandages?”
Dazai thinks briefly. “Let’s just do the bandages.”
Chuuya nods. He grabs a roll of bandages, scissors, and underwear for Dazai. Chuuya gently helps Dazai into the underwear, letting Dazai lean on him for support. Chuuya hangs up the last towel that had been across Dazai’s lap and sits behind Dazai.
He pulls a decent length of gauze from the roll and cuts it off. As he begins wrapping it around Dazai’s neck, he realizes his skin is still so red. Was the bath water too hot? Chuuya’s skin looked fine when he saw it in the mirror, but maybe Dazai’s is more sensitive from being covered all the time.
He ties off the bandages around Dazai’s neck, not too tight, and brushes his fingers over the exposed skin at the top of Dazai’s back. Just as soon as he does, Dazai jolts with a surprised squeak. Chuuya would typically make fun of Dazai for making such a cute noise when startled, but he’s too busy feeling guilty.
“Ah- I’m so sorry, Dazai. I didn’t mean to- I’ll just get this over with.” Chuuya busies himself with drawing out the next length of gauze.
“Yeah. Get on with it, Slug.” If Chuuya could see Dazai’s face right now, he’d be impressed by how hard Dazai is blushing. Unfortunately, he’s too busy with his own blush.
The rest of the bandaging goes smoothly, if awkwardly, with both boys being too embarrassed to look each other in the eye.
Chuuya is all too happy for the escape of grabbing Dazai’s clothes to help him change into. While he’s facing away from Dazai, he takes a good few deep breaths to help him calm down. Dazai wasn’t even upset really. It’s not a big deal.
Chuuya grabs the pyjama pants first and turns around. He bunches up the pant legs so it’ll be easy to get into and steps up to Dazai. “Alright. Just lean on me for support and lift one of your legs.” Dazai puts his left arm around Chuuya’s shoulder, and shifts most of his weight onto it. Once they’ve found their balance, Dazai lifts his right leg, and Chuuya pulls the corresponding pant leg over his foot, which Dazai helpfully points. He sets it back down, and they repeat the process for his left leg. Once Dazai is standing on his own, Chuuya pulls the pants over Dazai’s hips and ties a quick bow with the drawstrings.
“I can’t believe you chose the fish pants.” Dazai scoffs. The fish pants are a pair of pyjama pants Chuuya found one day and has been trying to force Dazai into as often as he can. And with two broken arms? Chuuya can make him wear them as much as he wants! Maybe there are some upsides to this situation.
“It’s a shame you think that because I see a lot of fish accessories in your future Mackerel.” Chuuya swipes the shirt from the counter and pulls it over Dazai’s head. It’s the largest one he has, baggy even on Dazai, but Chuuya realizes it’ll still be hard to get the casts through. Case in point, despite their finagling, the right cast refuses to get in the sleeve, and Chuuya doesn’t want to rip it.
Eventually, Chuuya just lets go of the shirt with a huff. They’re not getting anywhere. Dazai sighs and sits down on the taller stool.
“This isn’t working.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
They think for a moment.
“Maybe if we put my right arm in first, then the rest?” Dazai ventures.
“Better than what we were doing, at least.” Chuuya concedes. He pops the shirt back over Dazai’s head and rearranges it so the right sleeve is as open as possible. Dazai extends his cast-laden arm, and Chuuya pulls the shirt over it. With a little more rearranging and pulling, the shirt is on comfortably.
“Maybe we should’ve thought of that first,” Dazai mutters while Chuuya puts the sling back on.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the idea guy?” Chuuya snarks. “C’mon, I’m tired. Let’s just brush our teeth and go to bed.”
Dazai nods through a yawn, and they step up to the sink. Chuuya grabs Dazai’s toothbrush from the holder, wets it, and puts toothpaste on it. “Open.” Chuuya pokes Dazai’s cheek. Dazai opens his mouth, and Chuuya pauses, not knowing what to do next. He’s never brushed anyone else’s teeth, so this will be a first.
Before Dazai can get smart with him, Chuuya places a hand beneath his chin to keep him still and sets to it. It’s not too difficult, as it turns out. He’s reminded of cleaning crevices, except it’s someone’s mouth.
Dazai’s mouth.
Oh god. Chuuya can feel himself blushing. He lied. There’s no upside to this situation. There aren’t enough fish pants in the world to make up for how weird he feels about doing this. Deep breaths, Chuuya, deep breaths.
Better to just get this over with quickly.
Chuuya makes quick work of Dazai’s teeth, rinses the toothbrush, and returns it to its holder as Dazai spits out toothpaste suds. Chuuya says, “Go make yourself comfortable while I finish here.”
Dazai nods and wanders out of the bathroom. Chuuya brushes his teeth and restores some order to the bathroom, straightening out the towels so they dry better and putting the stools and laundry away. He flips off the lights as he leaves.
When Chuuya steps into his bedroom, he’s surprised Dazai isn’t there. He thought the bastard would take the opportunity to take advantage of Chuuya’s comfy bed. He goes out to the living room, and Dazai’s lounging on the couch. If that’s where Dazai wants to sleep, Chuuya won’t stop him.
“Do you want anything else before you go to sleep? Something to drink?” He asks, leaning against the wall.
Dazai hums and says, “Some water if you please.”
Chuuya nods and heads over to the kitchen. He takes a glass and fills it. He brings it to Dazai, who drinks most of it. He must’ve been quite thirsty. Chuuya needs to make sure Dazai eats and drinks regularly during this.
When Dazai pulls away, Chuuya sets the glass on the end table and asks, “Do you need anything else? I could make you a quick bite to eat?”
Dazai shakes his head. “I’m fine. Ready to sleep.” He shimmies down on the couch, and Chuuya begins tucking him in. Chuuya uses the throw pillows under Dazai’s arms again. It’s even more important to keep casts elevated at night, and they seemed to work well this afternoon. He makes a quick stop in his bedroom to grab one of his pillows and a spare comforter from the closet for Dazai to use.
Dazai lets Chuuya do as he pleases without comment. Only when Dazai looks like he’s wrapped in a cocoon of blankets is Chuuya happy. “Alright!” Chuuya claps his hands. “If you need anything just get me. I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“With how well you’ve wrapped me, I’m not sure I could get you,” Dazai says, smirking.
“Then I guess you’ll just have to die, huh?” Chuuya rolls his eyes.
Dazai sighs dreamily. “Oh, if only…”
“Shut the fuck up and sleep. I’m going to bed now. Shout if you need something.” With that, Dazai tucks his face into the blankets, and Chuuya heads back to his room, turning off the lights as he goes.
Chuuya gets into his bed and rearranges the pillows to account for the missing one. Once all his bedding is in order, he settles in with a sigh. This day feels like it’s been going on forever. The next six weeks aren’t going to pass quickly at all.
It is weird how quiet Dazai has been, though. Chuuya thinks Dazai isn’t used to having to rely on others. It must be jarring. The independent, infallible Demon Prodigy reduced to a teen with broken arms.
The weight of a reputation is a hard thing to bear. Chuuya would know.
Chuuya drifts into sleep soon after.
Only a couple of hours have passed when Chuuya awakens, absolutely parched. He stumbles out of bed and into the kitchen for a glass of water. He’s been too busy making sure Dazai doesn’t die that he forgets to even drink. Chuuya sighs as he fills a glass.
He holds it to his lips and, “Slug?” drops it. It’s only the quick activation of his ability that keeps it from shattering on the floor. Most of the water does spill, though. Ugh.
Chuuya takes a few breaths to recover from being startled. He’d thought he was being stealthy, but not enough to avoid waking Dazai. “God damn.” Chuuya shakes his head. “You scared the shit out of me, mackerel. Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry.” He grabs a towel and kneels to clean up the water.
Chuuya hears Dazai hum and then say, “It’s fine. I wasn’t asleep.”
Chuuya stands holding the towel and glass. Most of the water has been dried, and he figures the rest can evaporate. He drinks what’s left in the glass and drops it and the towel in the sink. He’ll deal with them tomorrow. “Did you not fall asleep? Are you comfortable?” He walks over to Dazai. The lights are still off, so Chuuya can’t see him that well, but there’s enough moonlight that he can make out the general shape of Dazai’s cocoon.
Dazai shakes his head. “It’s plenty comfy. Just can’t fall asleep. No big.”
Chuuya sighs and stares at the wall for a moment, already knowing he’ll regret this. Oh well. He begins pulling the blankets off of Dazai, saying, “C’mon. You’re sleeping in bed with me.”
Dazai questioningly hums as he sits up.
“You could’ve just asked, you know. I thought you’d do it anyway.” Chuuya shoves the blankets under his arm and grabs the pillow. He starts walking to the bedroom but realizes he doesn’t hear Dazai follow. He turns around, and Dazai’s silhouette is still seated on the couch, staring at him. Chuuya rolls his eyes. He shoves the pillow under his arm and walks back over to Dazai.
“God, you’re pathetic.” Chuuya gets his arm around Dazai’s upper arm and pulls him up. He marches them into the bedroom and sits Dazai on the bed. “Scoot over to the other side, and I’ll get you comfortable again.”
Dazai makes his way over, and Chuuya arranges the pillows behind him. Then Dazai lays back, and Chuuya gets to making the cocoon again. He makes a quick trip to the living room for the throw pillows since those seem about the right height for Dazai’s arms. Once he deals with the pillows, Chuuya grabs the blankets he’d dropped on the floor and spreads them out on the bed. He slips in under the blankets on Dazai’s left side, makes some last adjustments, and settles in.
Chuuya positions himself to face Dazai, who is stiff as a board. Chuuya jostles his shoulder. “Relax. It’s fine. You’ll be doing this for the next six weeks anyway.”
Dazai nods, and bit by bit, he seems to relax. Good. Chuuya didn’t want to share a bed if Dazai was going to freak out about it.
“Good night, Dazai. Sleep well.”
“...Good night, Chuuya.”