Chapter Text
Dazai's Introduction to Literature class is packed to the brim, for some reason. It's usually pretty empty, leaving enough room for Dazai to sit alone in a corner and slack off without worrying about disturbing someone else.
Today, he's shoved into a seat at the end of the back row. There's one empty seat between him and another student.
Dazai stares at the clock above the whiteboard, praying to a God he doesn't believe in.
Please. Please don't bring some asshole in at the last second to sit next to me.
The clock hand moves to 9:30. He's safe, he thinks with a sigh of relief.
Alas, whatever God there is fucking hates him, because he's not safe at all.
The chair beside him is pulled out and filled by a body smaller than most of the others in the room.
Dazai sees red hair in his peripheral as they scoot in. No fucking way. There's no way, right?
Again, God hates him. It's Chuuya, he confirms, as he pretends to look at the back door to catch a glimpse of the person next to him.
It's Chuuya Nakahara, who was, admittedly, a loser the last time Dazai saw him. He barely showed up to class in high school, always looking grumpy. Most people assumed he was a delinquent.
Apparently, old habits die hard; he's never even seen Chuuya show up to class, and it's the end of the first semester. Dazai's pretty sure he'd have noticed him. After all, he'd done a lot of staring when Chuuya would show up to class once in a blue moon. He knows what the back of his head looks like.
"Seriously?" Chuuya's glaring at him. He has the same grumpy expression as he did back in high school.
Dazai didn't expect him to say anything. Most people don't.
"You can always leave. Not like you've ever bothered with perfect attendance, anyway." He shoots him a blank look. Please leave, you're a walking reminder of high school.
"Fuck you. Just don't talk to me."
"Wasn't planning on it, hatrack." Dazai curses mentally. He didn't even mean to say that.
Chuuya's eye twitches. Well, Dazai thinks, it wouldn't be the first time his smart mouth got his ass beat.
"Still an asshole, huh." Chuuya scoffs to himself and turns away, opening his computer.
And really, how dare he!? He didn't even speak to Chuuya in high school. He was busy actually having friends and getting laid.
Dazai is obviously the bigger (literally) and more mature person, so he simply scoffs and gets back to his computer.
Dazai can't focus. The teacher is rambling about symbolism, but the side of Chuuya's head just happens to be more interesting than the lecture.
He looks different. A few new piercings. He's grown out his hair, orange waves tucked into a low ponytail.
His jaw's sharper, he's lost weight and he's been frequenting the gym, judging by how his forearm looks when he flexes it to write.
He busies himself for the remainder of the class with the very important task of counting Chuuya's freckles.
Sharp eyes meet his, and Dazai suddenly feels like an embarrassed teenager who's been caught staring at a girl all over again.
Dazai knows it's too late to look away and act like nothing happened, so he just makes eye contact and prays it'll scare Chuuya off. He's embarrassed, but he's still irritated by his presence and doesn't want Chuuya to have any sort of power over him. He'll stare if he wants to, damnit.
He's got heterochromia. Dazai never realized.
Chuuya raises an eyebrow. He opens his mouth, probably to say something rude, but decides against it and goes back to taking notes on the lecture.
By the end of the class, Dazai has another angle of Chuuya to add to his mental portfolio. Because he's annoying, obviously. He's tiny, but he takes up so much space. How irritating. Why did he even bother to start showing up to class 3/4 of the way through the semester, anyway?
But Dazai doesn't have time to sulk over it, not when Chuuya is sliding his phone over to him, looking up expectantly.
His nails are clean and evenly trimmed. He's got nice nailbeds.
When Dazai looks back up to meet his eyes, they're closer than he expected and he flinches.
"What?" Dazai tilts his head.
"Put your number in," Chuuya looks irritated already. Thinks he's playing dumb. He scoots the phone closer.
Now, he's even more confused. "Is Chuuya hitting on me?"
He wasn't paying attention to whatever had been said near the end of class.
"What? No, of course not. I'm not even- god, what's your problem?" Chuuya's a little flustered by the comment. Good, now they're both embarrassed.
Dazai looks around. Everyone is talking to the person beside them, if they haven't gotten up to leave yet. "I missed icebreakers?"
Judging by the look on Chuuya's face, he doesn't find it funny.
"Professor's birthday present planning?"
"Dazai."
"God, fine. Group project?"
Chuuya nods. "You knew that already."
It's not usual for Dazai to be that spaced out. Give it to this annoying ginger to distract him for an entire class period.
Obviously he figured there was a group project once he saw what everyone was doing, but still.
Dazai picks up the phone and puts his number in, creating a contact for himself under his name.
Judging by the look on the ginger's face, that name will be changed to something insulting as soon as possible.
He's sure he can come up with something worse, eventually.
It's been a week. It's been a full seven days, and the only notifications on Dazai's phone have been emails and class reminders.
Chuuya hasn't shown up to class since the day they exchanged numbers. Dazai hasn't texted him (he's not that easy!).
So much for Chuuya suddenly becoming a model student. He doesn't care what that runt does with his life, but he's certainly not going to let him force Dazai into partnership and then disappear forever.
Instead of calling Chuuya like a normal person, he decides to stalk him on every social media platform and figure out where to find him. He's going to abduct him, slice his achilles to prevent escape, and then force him to work on the project.
He won't actually do that, but he sort of wants to.
Luckily, figuring out where to find him is easy.
Chuuya doesn't post much, but he certainly isn't frugal with his reposts. Lots of sports, specifically soccer.
It isn't hard to figure out when the school's soccer team has practice. Still, it feels good to show up to the soccer field the following night and have his suspicions confirmed.
It's cold. He can see his breath in the air, and he's shivering with two jackets on. How the hell is Chuuya-and all of these other guys- running around in nothing but a jersey and shorts?
He showed up when they were supposed to end, but they're running overtime, apparently. Dazai wants to go home, but he can't back down now. He needs to show Chuuya that he isn't just going to do all of the work for free like some nerd who gets bullied in shitty american highschool movies. He takes a seat on the bleachers and watches a bunch of idiots run around in the cold and chase a ball.
After some time, he sees some sort of appeal to it. Everyone is communicating with eachother in short phrases, equal in praise and insult. Chuuya may be short, but he's the fastest one on the team and it stands out easily. He's also confident with the ball, always trying to ask for a pass.
His body is loose and relaxed even in tense situations. It listens to Chuuya well. Some people are just born that way, with every athletic bone in their body.
Dazai is jealous. He hates how easy it is for normal people to be in love with something, to smile so widely and do something just for the fun of it.
When he was younger, he never had any hobbies or sports he was involved in.
In high school, all he could do was play a character for six hours a day and then go home.
Chuuya was alone in high school, too, because he was rude and loud. He only had a few friends.
For all Dazai poked fun at him, he never really had any to begin with.
Twenty minutes pass. There's a loud yell and everyone stops, walking over to the benches. Chuuya grab his water bottle but doesn't stop walking, not until he's in front of Dazai. Good, he noticed.
Chuuya walks up with a loud groan.
"What, not happy to see me?"
"My night is ruined."
"I had to sit here for twenty minutes in the cold, asshole. Stay on schedule next time." Dazai pouts, trying to look cute to piss him off.
Chuuya's breathing is uneven and heavy, and there's a few beads of sweat dripping down the side of his pale, freckled face.
Looking up at him like this, Dazai realizes that he's missed something during his observations in class the week prior: Chuuya's gotten extremely attractive.
Well, as attractive as a 5'3 ginger can get. Dazai brushes himself off. No way will he compliment this guy.
Once Chuuya catches his breath a little, he glares down at him. "Why're you even here? Stalker."
"Rudeee."
"Answer the damn question."
"Well, I wouldn't have had to track Chuuya down if he hadn't fallen off the face of the earth."
"What are you- oh, the project? You've got that, right?" Chuuya shrugs, like it's not big deal.
Dazai isn't cold anymore, because he's annoyed and it's making him feel warm.
"I see your genetic challenges range from vertical to mental. I'm not doing the project for you all by myself." Dazai shoots back, kicking Chuuya in the shin.
It does nothing. Damn soccer and its shin-protecting regulations.
Chuuya rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair, pushing his curls out of his face. All of a sudden, it's ten degrees warmer. "Whatever. Fine. I have practice most days, though, so I don't really know what you want me to do."
Well, at least he's not a total inconsiderate prick. Chuuya actually frowns a little, like he feels bad. Liar.
"What days are you avai-" Dazai starts, but the sound of cleats against metal cuts him off.
A blonde guy grabs Chuuya by the shoulder and smiles, his tone teasing. "Who's this, Chuuya? Thought you weren't into guys?"
Dazai realizes he's the only one on the bleachers. Well, if that's what it looks like, good. Maybe Chuuya will be embarrassed and get teased and consequently have sexual confusion for the next few days.
No, he won't, because God hates Dazai and blesses his enemies.
Chuuya looks at Dazai like he's shit on the floor. "What the fuck? Ew. He's stalking me over a group project. Don't make it weird."
Dazai isn't one to get affected by things like this, but he's already irritated and this isn't helping.
"Mhm." The blonde hums sarcastically, patting Chuuya's shoulder before walking off. "See ya tomorrow, Chuuya!"
"Bye, 'Tross." Chuuya smiles for a brief moment. It's a good smile. Dazai wishes he saw it more. Antagonizing him is, unfortunately, way higher on his priority list. "Woah, where are you going?"
"You're pissing me off, I'm going home. Text me later and tell me when we can meet up to work on the project. And show up to class, at least." Dazai hasn't been this irritated in a few years, having very minimal interaction with people since high school. He stands and now Chuuya is the one looking up to make eye contact.
There's a firm hand on his wrist that stops him from going any further. An experimental tug doesn't break Chuuya's grip, so he gives up and just stands there.
"What's your problem?" Chuuya frowns up at him.
"Why do you have to be so confrontational?" Dazai sighs and gives up resisting.
"I don't want to deal with your bullshit, Dazai."
"Project participation isn't 'bullshit'."
"You know what I mean. I don't have time for a stupid literature project."
Dazai scoffs. "Then make some. Is the soccer team a cult that you're not allowed to take time away from? You suck, anyway. Like a slug."
Chuuya looks angry, now, rather than his usual expression of mild irritation that seems to be the default when interacting with Dazai.
"Nice try, bastard. I've got a five minute mile. Looks like you wouldn't even be able to run a full mile."
He's... not wrong there. Being taller than most people doesn't pair well with a lack of proper caloric intake and exercise.
"Insulting me to avoid owning up to your irresponsibility isn't a good look, Slug."
"God, fine. Just quit stalking me, it's weird. I have practice on Friday, but we can meet up after."
Dazai nods. "It was necessary, since Chuuya wanted to ghost me and be irresponsible."
"Heard you the first time."
"Just making sure you can hear me from down there."
"Fuck you!" Chuuya yanks on his wrist a little and Dazai giggles even though it hurts.
Is he satisfied with the agreement? Yes. Is he still going to give Chuuya a bunch of shit? Yes.
This time, Chuuya doesn't take the bait. "My bad, alright? Just get out of here. Field's closing soon."
Dazai doesn't know why he's suddenly being nice. It feels wrong.
It's hard to be civil, sometimes. Insults get the job done just fine. They're comfortable. To a person like Dazai, seeing a person like Chuuya get angry was the most fulfilling part of life.
"You'll have to let go of me if you want me to leave."
Chuuya blinks and, cheeks warming up a bit, releases his grip on Dazai's wrist.
"Right. Sorry." It's awkward now.
"It's fine."
It's warm where Chuuya's hand was. He rubs it as he walks back to his dorm.
He forgot how cold it was until he got a little closer to his dorm and the shivering set in again.
It's been a month. They don't really text, but they have a schedule now.
Dazai shows up to Chuuya's Wednesday and Friday practices near the end, which is actually supposed to be the end but they always go twenty minutes overtime. It's annoying.
Every time, Chuuya tells him to stop coming. It's 'embarrassing', or some other bullshit excuse.
Every time, Dazai agrees.
It's always a lie.
Dazai shows up to his college's soccer field every Wednesday and every Friday at 6:30 PM. Rain or shine. It's the most consistent he's ever been in his life.
Chuuya's team is familiar with Dazai now. They say hi to him when he shows up. They're all assholes, but it's fine, it's not like he cares about them anyway. He's only there for Chuuya, who is also an asshole, but Dazai can't afford to dislike him too much for the sake of the project.
They usually walk to some cafe together and get some work done. Chuuya's always sweaty and gross, but it's fine. When he isn't, it's a little distracting, so it's better that way.
They've been working for three hours. Dazai's had his head down for twenty minutes.
Chuuya decides to give him ten extra, once he notices.
"Wake up." Chuuya smacks his hand down onto the table. Dazai sits up with a jolt.
"...brute. I need my beauty sleep." Dazai whines. He likes whining to Chuuya. It's a weird new habit he picked up.
"Don't care. Sleep when you're supposed to sleep, dumbass. You used to be the one nagging me about being present for this shit."
"I can't sleep well, Slug. You see, there's a rat infestation in my dorm room. They're so loud." Dazai sighs dramatically.
"Just say your roommate keeps you up."
"My roommate keeps me up."
Chuuya frowns. Being an athlete, he's on a strict eight-hour sleep schedule. "Then sleep in a friend's dorm."
Dazai looks up and glares. Chuuya is unfortunately immune to his efforts to look intimidating and just raises an eyebrow.
"Chuuya."
"Dazai."
"..."
It takes a few seconds before it clicks.
"You don't... have any friends?" Chuuya's eyes widen a little.
"We're not in highschool anymore. Things change." Dazai's frowning now, too.
Chuuya starts fucking laughing. He's laughing at Dazai for not having any friends.
"You're so mean! What's your problem!? You didn't have friends in high school, either!" Dazai shouts. A few people glare at him from their tables.
Chuuya takes a few moments to settle down. He can tell Dazai's embarrassed and trying to hide it.
"No, I- I just- sorry," Chuuya takes a deep breath. "It's just surprising. You used to be such a womanizer and shit, so seeing you without any friends is just... unexpected."
Dazai rolls his eyes. "Never even liked those guys to begin with."
"Fake ass."
"Fat slug."
They manage to get almost nothing done at all.
Eventually, Chuuya speaks up again. "...You really can't sleep?"
"Unfortunately not."
It's quiet from there. Dazai continues with his research while he waits for Chuuya to figure out what to say.
It only takes a few minutes for his voice to return.
"Hey. Since you're doing most of the work I'll let you crash at my place when you want to get some shuteye." Chuuya's voice gets quiet at the end, lacking its usual confidence.
"...is Chuuya embarrassed to be nice to me?" Now it's Dazai's turn to laugh at the other.
"Shut up. It's just weird."
"Mhm."
When Dazai goes back to the dorm that night and sees a notification from Chuuya, he opens it immediately.
He decides to address that another day.
Slug: 6th floor room 625
You: do u have a roommate
Slug: ya but he's never here so its good
You: kayy
His roommate is hunched over at his desk, typing loudy as always. God, it must be nice to live alone, he thinks.
His roommate is mean to most people. Different than Chuuya mean, though. Fyodor acts in a much more sinister way.
Chuuya had been pretty nice all day. They didn't really fight for once.
He was decent, for the most part.
He looks at his phone, then at his roommate, then back at his phone.
The semester is over soon, so he might as well make the most of this while it lasts.
He opens his messages again.
You: hold on im comfin over rn wait
Chuuya leaves him on read as Dazai stumbles out of his bed and puts his slides on.
"Make sure he wears a condom." Fyodor suggests dryly from his desk.
"Sure will!" Dazai shouts cheerfully back as he walks out and shuts the door behind himself.
Yeah, as if. He's not letting some little rabid dog put its dick up his ass. Nowadays, he doesn't just sleep with anyone.
He can't even figure out if Chuuya's gay or not. They haven't gotten to that kind of conversation yet.
He ends up standing in front of Chuuya's door for five minutes trying to decide how to act once he's inside. He's been pretty relaxed so far, but every time they're together Dazai's brain fucks up more and more.
It's annoying. Really, really annoying. He's running out of things to make fun of Chuuya for, but Chuuya's arsenal is only growing the more Dazai slips up.
His train of thought comes to an abrupt halt when the slug itself cracks open the door. A blue eye peeks through the crack.
"You actually came? It's late." Chuuya pushes the door open all the way.
"It's evil roommate day, so I get a pass."
"What the fuck is evil roommate day?"
Dazai smiles. "Every day."
Chuuya rolls his eyes and steps back, opening the door all the way.
"Just shut up and come in, fish face."
"How does one have the face of a fish?" Dazai asks with a feigned tone of deep pondering.
"Don't ask me. You look like a dead fish half the time. And you smell like one."
Chuuya muses as he turns and walks into his apartment.
"Hey, I do not-!" Dazai follows quickly, grabbing onto the door before it shuts.
There's a small smile on both of their faces.