Archive of Our Own

Dazai was banished to the back seat next to Atsushi after the second hour of carpool karaoke that consisted of only him. No radio. No one else. Just Dazai obnoxiously doing everything in his power to give their driver a headache.

Atsushi has learned to just tune him out at this point. Giving him attention only seems to make it worse. Akutagawa somehow managed to fall asleep through the noise, arms crossed and head leaning against the window in the passenger seat.

Chuuya’s threatened to leave Dazai on the side of the road about 30 times now. Though his determination to make it to the campsite in good time overpowers his frustration.

It’d actually been Atsushi’s idea. And when Chuuya found out the kid’s never been camping, he made it happen.

He’s starting to regret it as they near hour three and Atsushi suddenly needs to pullover to puke. That gets Dazai to shut up for a while.

Akutagawa stays completely asleep until they pull into the campgrounds. Dazai busies himself with finishing off the roadtrip snacks while Chuuya navigates the maze of a location.

After about 20 minutes of driving in circles, Atsushi manages to point them in the right direction. Grumpy from being woken up, Akutagawa stays silent. Dazai laughs at Chuuya’s directional incompetence. Chuuya threatens to drive the car into a tree and take them all with him just to get Dazai to shut his mouth.

Their campsite is relatively small. Dazai pointed out that combining both Chuuya and Akutagawa’s incomes, they could’ve fully rented an RV or some fancy lot. Akutagawa had agreed. Chuuya insisted that was inauthentic, and that real camping was meant to be raw, gritty, and covered in mud.

An interesting take coming from someone who once called in sick to work because his favourite dress shirt had a wine stain and it “wasn’t a good day to wear burgundy”.

So Chuuya had chosen something relatively modest. A clearing with two obvious areas for tents, a picnic table, and a fire pit.

Atsushi is the first to jump out of the car, taking a quick deep inhale of the fresh air.

“Oh sweet unmoving ground, how I’ve missed you,” he proclaims quietly, knees buckling as he falls to that same unmoving ground with a huff.

“I told you to take the Dramamine,” Akutagawa mutters as he steps out after him. “You’ll receive no pity from me when you insist on being a fool.”

Chuuya makes his way out next, shutting the door with a frustrated slam.

“Okay, first things first, everyone put some bug spray on.”

Akutagawa makes his way to the back of the car, allowing Rashomon to open the trunk and begin unpacking their various bags.

“I don’t require any,” he insists.

Chuuya walks over to help Atsushi back up, then makes his way to Akutagawa to help unload.

“Yes you do. Sunscreen too, ya vampire.”

“I accept the sunscreen. But the bug spray is unnecessary. I am immune to the effects of those pesky insects.”

Chuuya scoffs.

“You’re not fucking immune to mosquitoes.”

“Dazai, get out of the car and help unpack,” Atsushi calls out on wobbly legs.

Dazai yawns, stretching himself out across the backseats.

“Mmmm 5 more minutes. It’s so cozy back here.”

Atsushi frowns, pushing through his sore stomach and aching limbs as he steps closer to grab Dazai’s ankles. Dazai yelps as he’s roughly yanked out of the car, falling flat on his ass.

Dazai whines, rubbing his bruised behind. Atsushi dusts his hands off with a satisfied smile, suddenly feeling much better.

Chuuya raises his hand as Atsushi walks by to help out, the two of them sharing a quick high five. Dazai gasps.

“How cruel! My two favourite people, celebrating my suffering,” he cries out dramatically. “Akutagawa, help me up.”

Only half a step is taken before Atsushi grabs Akutagawa by the collar, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t you dare,” he warns.

Akutagawa pushes Atsushi back, but obeys.

Dazai pouts.

“No one has any respect for me around here,” he mutters to himself as he makes a show of slowly groaning and standing back up.

“Maybe we’d respect you if you weren’t such a piece of shit,” Chuuya states, chucking a sleeping bag at Dazai.

Dazai catches it as it hits his chest with an “omff”.

“I am no such thing,” he insists.

“If you’re going to be useless, could you at least put some bug spray on like I was just saying?”

Dazai crosses his arms.

“That sounds exhausting. You do it for me if you’re so worried.”

Chuuya rummages through one of the bags for a moment before marching his way over to Dazai. Bug spray in hand, he yanks the bastard away from the other two.

“Ah, how sweet and caring Chuuya—hey!”

Dazai sputters and coughs as Chuuya begins dousing him with bug spray, a decent amount making its way into Dazai’s mouth. Once he’s done, Dazai’s left spitting the aftertaste out into the dirt.

“Atsushi, you’re next,” Chuuya announces.

Atsushi quickly moves to hide behind Akutagawa.

“I can do it myself, thank you.”

“Coward,” Akutagawa mumbles.

“At least I’m not insisting my natural musk repels bugs,” Atsushi shoots back.

“Yours certainly repels more than insects.”

“Hey!”

“Catch,” Chuuya calls as he tosses the can of bug spray toward Atsushi. He catches it, then sprays himself evenly.

He turns his gaze ever so slightly toward Akutagawa, who—without even bothering to turn around—immediately stops his train of thought.

“If you spray me with that I will remove every single one of your limbs,” he states plainly.

Atsushi considers the threat, then after a beat, squeezes his finger on the scan. One spurt of bug spray escapes before Rashomon redirects its task to ending Atsushi’s life.

It takes about two hours to set the tents up; mostly because Akutagawa and Atsushi can’t agree on where to shove the poles in, how to nail the pegs down, or even how to apply the tarp. But partially because Dazai insists it’s more important to set the hammock up instead while Chuuya sets theirs up by himself.

Chuuya finishes in just twenty minutes, and Dazai calls him a cheater for using his ability. He watches the other dysfunctional pair from the picnic bench as he sets up the portable stove and gathers things for dinner.

It takes Dazai a little over an hour to declare he’s successfully managed to tie both ends of the hammock to two perfectly positioned trees. It only takes the tiniest bit of weight for Dazai’s hard work to come completely undone as he tries to test it out, falling right to the hard ground for the second time this evening.

The commotion of Dazai milking his wail of agony and Chuuya full belly laughing at him briefly snaps Atsushi and Akutagawa out of a heated argument.

They’re right back at it once Dazai’s decided to redirect his energy to gaining sympathy points. He strolls his way over to the picnic table, wrapping his arms around Chuuya from behind while Chuuya refuses to stand still—busying himself with dinner preparations.

“Chuuya did such a good job setting up our tent,” he starts. “So strong, and smart, and capable.”

“I am not fixing the hammock for you,” Chuuya calls Dazai out on his move.

With a small pout, Dazai just tightens his arms, burying his face in Chuuya’s neck.

“That isn’t what I’m asking at all, sweetheart,” his tone drips softer, lower.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me right now, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You should take a break. You’ve been working so hard,” Dazai places a slow kiss to Chuuya’s neck. “Maybe we could go test our tent out togeth—“

Dazai’s suggestion is cut off with a groan as Chuuya elbows him in the stomach. Doubling over, he stumbles slightly.

“Keep it PG, you bastard. We aren’t doing anything with those two around,” Chuuya whispers harshly.

Strained, Dazai frowns.

“They’re busy, they wouldn’t even notice,” he argues.

Chuuya sighs, taking a moment to consider. Then, he turns his head toward Dazai, a promising look in his eye as he smirks.

“Go set things up and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Dazai’s frown deepens before he gives in, deciding the potential pros outweigh the cons. He sticks his tongue out at Chuuya as he trudges his way over to the tent, sleeping bag in hand.

Chuuya grins back triumphantly.

By the time the second hour has passed, Atsushi and Akutagawa manage to somehow get their tent up, and Dazai diligently sets his and Chuuya’s tent up. Inflating the air mattress, unrolling the sleeping bags, choosing who’s side is who’s, putting Chuuya’s 10 million bags in a pile in the corner. The lengths he’s willing to go when he has the right motivation still never fail to shock Chuuya.

He pokes his head out of the little zip up door with a proud smile, ready to receive his hard earned praise.

Akutagawa and Atsushi are nowhere in sight, but he can hear bickering coming from inside their tent and the sound of the second air pump doing its job.

Chuuya steps closer, hands on his hips.

“Took you long enough,” he comments with a small smile.

Dazai beams.

“Yes, and I did a fantastic job. I think I deserve a little reward now, don’t you agree?”

Chuuya smirks slightly, crouching down to be at level with Dazai, waiting patiently on his hands and knees.

“A reward?” Chuuya teases.

Dazai shivers, nodding with a dumb grin on his face.

“Your reword,” Chuuya whispers, reaching out to take hold of Dazai’s chin. Before Dazai can sigh dreamily, Chuuya’s grip turns bruising. “is that I won’t kill you for the next eight hours.”

Dazai lets out a small whimpered sound as he wriggles to free himself. He sits back, crossing his arms with a pout while Chuuya straightens back up and chuckles.

“That was mean,” he grumbles.

“Get up and help me out with dinner,” Chuuya turns and heads back to the picnic table. “It’s getting late now, thanks to all you morons.”

With a huff, Dazai scoots his way out of the tent and back up to his feet. He drags his feet on his way over to the picnic table, and splays himself over the top dramatically.

Chuuya works around him like he’s a part of the table.

A few minutes later, Atsushi emerges from his tent. Just Atsushi.

Grilling a few meat skewers on the portable stove, Chuuya raises an eyebrow.

“Where’s Aku?” he asks.

Atsushi gives an exasperated sigh, sitting down next to the puddle that is Dazai.

“Asleep,” he exhales.

“Seriously? He slept like the whole car ride.”

Atsushi shrugs, melting onto the table to mirror the idiot beside him.

“When I didn’t take the Dramamine, he wanted to prove a point so he took it instead. Now he’s like a toddler who missed nap time.”

Chuuya supposes that tracks. Dazai gives no opinion on the matter, seemingly just as exhausted as if he took an antihistamine as well then slaved away setting up a tent. Chuuya calls him out on his laziness, pointing out the fact that Chuuya should be the exhausted one—driving for over three hours straight, doing practically everything by himself. Dazai waves his hand in the air clumsily.

“You’re doing great, honey,” he mumbles.

Chuuya mutters to himself as he plates the last of the skewers and fetches a canned drink for himself from the cooler. Cracking it open, he chugs about half of it before deciding his work here is done.

Atsushi pushes himself up to set the camping chairs up in a circle around the fire pit, giving Chuuya a soft “thanks for dinner,” before returning to the table.

“Alright, come eat. I’m gettin drunk so clean ups on you three,” Chuuya announces as he grabs two skewers, his can, and the last of his patience and slumps himself down in a chair.

Dazai manages to come alive the moment possible labour becomes unnecessary, and intends to miraculously feel too exhausted to move the moment its cleanup time. He grabs three skewers, and balances them on top of two cans in his other hand. A smile on his face as he joins Chuuya.

Atsushi’s stomach twists at the thought of having to go wake Akutagawa up. He decides to leave it for now.

The three of them practically inhale their food as Dazai tells Atsushi an entirely made up story about a bear that lives in the area and has eaten three people so far. He gets a smack over the head when Dazai suggests Atsushi take the bear on in a fight to the death to see which Man Eater is superior. Atsushi sits frozen in fear, partly of the fictional bear, and partly of the lingering curiosity of whether he ever actually ate someone or not.

He’s pretty sure he didn’t.

Akutagawa manages to wake up on his own, emerging sluggishly from the tent with his hair stuck up in every direction. All three of the loud fools sitting around the fire pit burst into obnoxious laughter at the sight.

Akutagawa threatens to kill them all.

He takes just one skewer, but Atsushi encourages him to eat more by bringing his own up to his mouth when he isn’t quite paying attention. He declines a drink.

As the sun starts to set, Dazai insists they get a fire going. He selects Atsushi as his assistant, jumping to his feet.

“Right, so the first thing we need to do is siphon some gasoline from the car and—“

“Eh, no way in hell!” Chuuya interrupts before Dazai can ask Atsushi if he has some sort of tube to use.

Dazai sighs.

“It can’t be helped then. In that case, we will need to locate a blade and some quartz to—“

“Dazai, we have lighters,” Atsushi tries to explain.

“Fine, then a magnifying glass and the right angle of the sun—“

“I’m going to grab the firestarter cubes from the car,” Atsushi mumbles as he turns away from Dazai, still rambling on about prehistoric methods of creating a flame.

Atsushi returns shortly after, dragging a case of firewood they’d picked up earlier with him. Everyone turns to Chuuya, anticipating the responsibility to fall on him to chop it up. He refuses immediately, insisting Akutagawa just use Rashomon. And that seems simple enough.

Atsushi crouches down, gathering some small sticks to get a kindling started with the firestarter cubes and a simple lighter. Once that’s going, he grabs some of the smaller pieces of wood, trying his best to hold them upright, preventing them from falling over and smothering the fire.

Dazai observes, hovering over him and occasionally telling him he’s doing fantastic while simultaneously providing no real help. A proper fire grows, flicking up toward the steadily darkening sky in no time.

As Chuuya predicted, the mosquitos make themselves known just in time, but the fire and excessive amount of bug spray keep the majority of them away.

Atsushi slowly but not so subtly scoots his chair closer to Akutagawa’s, and before long, the grumpy creature falls back asleep, resting his head on Atsushi’s shoulder. Atsushi does everything in his power to remain as still as possible.

Chuuya eventually grabs his guitar from the car as well—something he insisted was essential to pack. 90% of the inordinate things he brought are “essential” apparently. He hums softly to himself, a slight slur in his voice, strumming the strings of the acoustic instrument in a gentle rhythm. Dazai scavenges the campsite, looking for things to toss in the fire and watch burn.

Atsushi decides to call it an early night, clearly just wanting to get Akutagawa to bed before he wakes up angrier than before. But no one stops him. He gently, carefully maneuvers himself to slowly pick Akutagawa’s sleeping body up into his arms—bridal style. Which instantly wakes him.

“Unhand me,” he demands sleepily, pushing at Atsushi’s chest and weakly trying to squirm his way free.

Dazai watches with amusement as Atsushi struggles to keep him in his arms, nearly falling over on his way to their tent.

Once they’re alone under a starry sky, illuminated by the glow of the fire, Dazai strolls his way over to Chuuya. Creeping up behind him, Dazai rests his hands on Chuuya’s shoulders, slowly squeezing and caressing. Chuuya closes his eyes, silently accepting the massage.

With a whisper, Dazai leans down and lets his lips brush against Chuuya’s ear.

“Just you and me,” he drawls out in a singsong tone.

Chuuya twitches his head away from the contact, stopping his playing.

“Quit it, ‘m not in the mood,” he grumbles.

“Why not?” Dazai pouts like a child being denied candy.

“Cause I’m just not,” Chuuya bites back.

Dazai takes a moment to think, leaning over awkwardly to rest his chin on Chuuya’s shoulder. He sticks his bottom lip out, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re not still mad about the other day, are you?”

“You mean when you stood me up on our anniversary?” Chuuya states coldly, shoving Dazai off of him and placing his guitar back in its case. “Cause yeah. I am.”

Dazai stands back up, pacing back to his own chair.

“I told you, something came up,” Dazai argues back simply as he sits back down and crosses his legs. Then his arms. “Besides, only high schoolers actually celebrate things as ridiculous as six month anniversaries.”

Chuuya grits his teeth.

“Still shoulda called,” muttered almost resentfully.

Dazai huffs.

“I would’ve if I could’ve. You know that, right slug?” Dazai refuses to let his tone dip serious..

Chuuya taps his foot, staring into the fire. Silence fills the moment, until Chuuya stands up abruptly, heading toward the tent.

“I’m getting ready for bed.”

“You’re drunk. You’ll get lost,” Dazai informs plainly.

Chuuya rummages around in the tent for a few moments before he exits with a bag swung over his shoulder. Without stopping to acknowledge Dazai properly, he brushes briskly past him, flashlight in hand.

“I can handle myself,” he insists.

Dazai rolls his eyes and pushes himself up to follow after him regardless. Ensuring to stay a few feet behind.

Chuuya grumpily stomps his way to where he thinks he remembers the bathrooms being. Dazai watches silently as he makes a wrong turn. Then another. And another.

“You’re lost,” he points out, finally.

Chuuya refuses to turn around, pressing on.

“No, it’s just around this little bend. Things just look different in the dark.”

Knowing Chuuya won’t listen to reason, Dazai quickens his pace, and grabs the bag from Chuuya, slinging it over his own shoulder. Chuuya yells at the sudden thievery, but seems just a little too inebriated to have the motivation to do anything about it. Dazai then grabs the flashlight as well, then takes Chuuya’s hand in his free one.

Chuuya allows it. Their fingers intertwine. Dazai silently guides them in the right direction.

“Just cause yer being all gentlemenly doesn’t mean yer off the hook, bastard,” Chuuya grumbles.

“I know,” Dazai responds with a smile, giving Chuuya’s hand a quick squeeze. “But I’d have no one to cook me meals if you went and got lost and eaten by a wild animal. So I’m simply taking some precautions.”

Chuuya scoffs.

They make it to the public bathrooms in seconds. Chuuya insists it’s because he did know where they were going, and they were almost there. Dazai informs him they’d been walking in circles for nearly 10 minutes, and that the bathrooms were a 30 second walk from their campsite.

The bathrooms are much nicer than either of them expected. Clean, secluded, well lit. Chuuya doesn’t take the time to comment on it, instead rushing toward the sinks to begin his nightly routine.

Dazai holds back on asking Chuuya what happened to camping being “raw, gritty, and covered in mud”. He figures he’s reached his limit on how much Chuuya will allow today. And making Chuuya mad is only really fun when they bounce back immediately.

Chuuya starts with pulling his hair back. Washing his face. Applying some sort of sheet mask. Dazai thinks he looks horrifying. Chuuya takes the time to brush his teeth while he lets that sit. He shoves Dazai’s toothbrush at him all the while, demanding through a muffled toothpaste filled voice that Dazai take care of himself.

Grateful for the familiarity, Chuuya continues on once the mask is removed. Toner. Moisturizer. Some facial oil. Then a few minutes with the gua sha. Dazai doesn’t quite receive the same benefits from it, especially since Chuuya doesn’t do the full routine on him, but Chuuya can tell Dazai enjoys the feeling when he runs the gua sha over Dazai’s cheekbones a few times before finishing up.

He packs everything back up, using the bathroom and forcing Dazai to as well before they leave—he won’t admit it’s because he doesn’t want to have to try to find this place again in the middle of the night. They don’t hold hands on the way back. Chuuya holds the back. Dazai holds the flashlight.

Back at the campsite, the closer they get to Akutagawa and Atsushi's tent, the louder a soft snore becomes. They whisper back and forth, betting on which one of them it’s coming from, and crawling into their own tent.

Chuuya complains about how Dazai just shoved all his bags in a pile. Dazai asks what Chuuya expected him to do in such limited space, then reminds him he overpacked. Chuuya defends his decision to bring everything he brought. Dazai calls him a hypocrite, momentarily forgetting his earlier restraint. Chuuya twists his ear, something Dazai probably should’ve seen coming.

They both change into sleepwear in silence, then awkwardly scooch into their separate sleeping bags. Chuuya turns away from Dazai on his side. Dazai wriggles closer, leaving both of them on the left edge of the air mattress. He nuzzles his head against the back of Chuuya’s.

“You’re taking up the whole bed,” Chuuya mumbles sleepily.

Dazai nuzzles closer.

“You’re running away from me. I get cold. You’re my heater,” he explains.

Chuuya grumbles, shifting in his bag to try and get comfy despite being an inch away from falling off the mattress entirely. Dazai scoots just one more time, and Chuuya gives up. He rolls back around, facing Dazai.

“If I give you a kiss will you stop being annoying?”

Dazai smiles, wide and satisfied. He nods quickly, then puckers his lips with closed eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Chuuya shimmies his arms out of his sleeping bag, then leans over to gently hold Dazai’s face. Dazai’s own arms manage to dart out and hold Chuuya in place once their lips touch, clearly unsatisfied with a simple peck. Their lips brush for a few moments, Dazai testing the waters with his tongue.

Chuuya denies him, pulling back with a frown.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Dazai returns the frown, more of a pout.

“One more?”

Chuuya’s frown struggles to maintain structure, breaking off into a small smile.

“One more,” he states quietly, giving Dazai just one final kiss before shoving him closer to the middle of the mattress.

Before Dazai can complain, Chuuya scoots closer too, keeping his arms out of his sleeping bag to wrap them around Dazai’s middle and rest his head on his chest. Dazai lets his own wrap around him in return.

“Don’t get your slug slime on me in your sleep. You always drool all over me,” Dazai whispers.

Chuuya huffs, holding Dazai tighter.

“Goodnight, idiot. Love you,” he mumbles.

Dazai feels his heart flutter, holding Chuuya closer.

“Goodnight. Sleep tight. I’d say don’t let the bed bugs bite, but you still reek of bug spra—“

Chuuya pinches Dazai’s side. Dazai relents.

“I love you too.”

Morning comes faster than all four of them can tolerate. Even as Chuuya darts up at the crack of dawn, he fights his eyelids to force them open. He leaves Dazai in the tent after failing to wake him up without violence. Then goes to wake the other two.

He shakes their tent from the outside.

“Up n’ at ‘em, sleepyheads. We gotta whole day ahead of us,” he calls out as the tent rattles violently.

Atsushi’s up first, screaming in pure terror at the exterior assault, yelling about “the bear”. Akutagawa seems to only be awakened by the sound of Atsushi’s screams. Jolting up, still trapped in his own sleeping bag, he immediately directs his anger toward the terrified Atsushi.

Once he’s successfully started an energizing argument, Chuuya leaves the two alone to get started on breakfast.

The two emerge with heavy eye bags once their argument fizzles out, and Atsushi almost instantaneously rushes to Chuuya’s side to help out. Chuuya shoos him off, telling him there’s not much Atsushi can do to help with instant miso soup.

Akutagawa makes his way to sit in his camping chair, eyes unfocused and faraway like he’s only half there. Atsushi sits at the picnic table across from Chuuya regardless. Just in case.

Chuuya keeps an eye on the pot heating up on the portable stove, placing four mugs on the table.

“Why do we have to be awake but Dazai gets to sleep in?” Atsushi complains in a low voice.

Chuuya pops a hip, crossing his arms.

“If you wanna try waking him, be my guest.”

Determined to restore justice, Atsushi stands up and makes his way over to the tent where Dazai stays fast asleep. Dazai’s difficult, but surely waking him up shouldn’t be too hard.

He tries Chuuya’s method; shaking the tent and yelling. Then he decides to crawl in and get a little closer. He gently shakes Dazai. Nothing. He shakes him a bit harder, shouting at him to wake up. Still nothing. Atsushi grabs his shoulders and yanks him back and forth. He wonders for a moment if Dazai managed to die in his sleep.

Refusing to give up, he covers Dazai’s mouth and nose, restricting his breathing. After a concerning amount of time passes without Dazai waking or seemingly breathing, Atsushi takes his hands back.

He takes a deep breath, preparing himself mentally. Then swings an arm down to slap Dazai across the face. Fortunately, that seems to do the trick. Unfortunately, Dazai doesn’t seem too pleased.

Atsushi lets out a small squeak as Dazai grabs the offending hand in a tight grip, looking up at Atsushi with dark, cold eyes. A shiver goes through Atsushi’s body.

“I know well over a hundred ways to slowly kill a man and I will not hesitate to demonstrate if you do not let me sleep, Atsushi,” he threatens. Expression dead serious.

Atsushi yelps, pulling his arm free and scrambling back in fear.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” he chants.

Dazai smiles softly, closing his eyes and wiggling his shoulders to get comfy again.

“Kay, thanks,” he responds in a cheery voice. Then he’s out cold again.

Atsushi shakily re-emerges from the tent, looking like he’d just seen an actual ghost. He slowly makes his way over to his camping chair beside Akutagawa.

“Dazai’s really scary sometimes…” he says nervously.

Both Chuuya and Akutagawa give a synchronized “mmhm” in response.

Dazai’s soup has gone cold by the time he decides it’s morning, exiting his little cave with a smile.

“Goodmorning everyone,” he announces happily as he stretches his arms.

As he looks around the campsite, he sees that absolutely no one is there. Not even the car.

He crosses his arms.

“How rude, they left without me,” he complains to himself.

Spotting the single mug left out on the picnic table, lid placed thoughtfully overtop, he walks over and decides he may as well busy himself with breakfast while he waits for everyone to return.

Stopping to reapply sunscreen for the third time so far, Chuuya yanks Akutagawa down to his height to reach his face and rub it in. They would’ve probably been close to finishing up their “brisk nature walk”—as Chuuya called it—if not for the countless pitstops.

Most of them being demanded by Akutagawa.

Chuuya had insisted he wear something more suited for the weather, but Akutagawa insisted he wear all black long sleeves and pants. Despite the thick layers of sunscreen applied, Akutagawa’s skin gets redder and redder the longer he stays in the sun; hence the third sunscreen stop.

Atsushi listened, and ensured he wore a pair of shorts, proper shoes, a tanktop, and a hat. He only asks to stop to take pictures on his phone.

Chuuya complains occasionally about the heaviness of the hiking backpack, even though it’s obvious he’s using his ability to make it lighter. He’s mostly annoyed at how long this is taking.

After rubbing a fresh layer of sunscreen onto Akutagawa’s face, Chuuya shoves the bottle back into the bag, grabs his own hat, places it on Akutagawa’s head, then turns to lead the way again.

Akutagawa grumpily accepts the gesture, and Atsushi reminds him to keep drinking water. He grumpily accepts that too.

Wiping some sweat from his forehead, Atsushi trots up closer to Chuuya.

“Are you sure it was a good idea to leave Dazai behind?”

Chuuya adjusts his sunglasses, keeping his eyes set on the trail.

“He’s fine. Bastard deserved it anyway. He could use some time alone to reflect,” he states.

Atsushi frowns.

“But what if he burns down the whole campground?”

Chuuya shrugs, the backpack clinking with the movement.

“Then I’d kill him if he managed to survive the fire,” he says simply.

Atsushi grimaces slightly then slows his pace to fall behind next to Akutagawa. He keeps his eyes squinted, observing Chuuya carefully.

With a whisper, he leans closer to Akutagawa.

“Is there something going on between Dazai and Chuuya?”

Akutagawa huffs his breaths, arms crossed despite the effort used to push one foot in front of the other.

“They are in a committed relationship, Weretiger. I’m surprised it took you this long to notice,” he whispers back the mock breathlessly.

Atsushi gives him a harsh side eye.

“That isn’t what I mean,” he takes a moment to think again. “I mean, are they fighting?”

“When are they not?”

“Like actually fighting,” Atsushi clarifies.

Akutagawa gives his own side eye.

“What gives you that impression?”

“Something just seems off. Don’t you think so?”

Akutagawa huffs a sigh, the effort of it leaving him just a little lightheaded.

“It’s none of our business anyway. Dazai can handle his own problems,” he insists.

Atsushi crosses his own arms, looking Akutagawa up and down.

“Do you need to stop again?” he asks with full sincerity through a tone of annoyance.

“No.”

Atsushi lets out a long exhale.

“Chuuya,” he shouts ahead.

Chuuya stops in his tracks.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he mutters as he turns around. “What?” he snaps.

Akutagawa and Atsushi both stop as well, Akutagawa panting on weak legs.

“He needs to stop again,” Atsushi explains sheepishly.

Akutagawa frowns at the fact Atsushi seems embarrassed for him.

Chuuya tightens his grip on the backpack straps, forcing a smile.

“Alright. Nature walks over. We’re going back,” he says sharply, suddenly briskly heading down the opposite way back towards where they came.

Atsushi and Akutagawa have no choice but to follow.

Their hands end up intertwining during their descent back down the trail, Akutagawa’s balance wavering the more time passes. Chuuya uncharacteristically refuses to glance back and check on either of them, breezing on forward with steady focus.

The car ride back to the campsite is silent, neither Akutagawa or Atsushi wanting to subject themselves to the passenger seat. They sit together in the back, giving Chuuya some space. Atsushi holds himself back from apologizing on Akutagawa’s behalf.

Back at the campsite, panic instantly overcomes all three of them when Dazai is nowhere to be found. Despite his clear irritation, Chuuya seems the most concerned. The tents are empty, oddly both tidied up as well. By the time Chuuya’s ready to blow up his phone, he appears.

Walking carefree out from the trees, Dazai holds a grocery bag in one hand and a box in the other. He smiles.

“Ah, you’re all back! Perfect timing.”

Chuuya’s quick to chuck one of the empty mugs from breakfast right at him. Dazai manages to duck out of the way, letting the mug hit a tree beside him.

“Bastard! Where the hell were you?” he demands.

Dazai lifts up the box and bag, showing off the fruits of his labour.

“I got us lunch!” he explains. “And an inflatable dinghy.”

Chuuya’s eye twitches, torn between slapping Dazai and just killing him on the spot. Dazai marches over, placing the box on the picnic table and reaching into the grocery bag to handout individually packaged onigiri.

Atsushi and Akutagawa don’t hesitate to dig in.

With a full mouth, Atsushi asks. “Where did you get this stuff?”

Dazai hums, strolling over to the furious Chuuya and handing him a rice ball as well. Chuuya hardly moves, wordlessly taking the offering.

“When I realized you’d all abandoned me, I decided to take a quick stroll over to the convenience store,” he smiles innocently at Chuuya.

“Who’s money did you use?” Chuuya asks in a low voice, hand clutching his food.

Dazai opens up his own, strolling back over to take a seat at the table and enjoy.

“Irrelevant, because we have a boat now. And I bought you all lunch, and cleaned up,” Dazai leans against the table, head in hand, and smiles expectantly at Chuuya. “Aren’t I just the best?”

Chuuya stares right back, slowly unwrapping his onigiri. He returns the smile, holding his hand out before flipping it over. The onigiri falls to the ground at a shocking speed as Chuuya alters its gravity to be comparable to a boulder, slamming its way into the dirt ground and cracking it open.

Atsushi, Akutagawa, and especially Dazai all watch in horror.

Chuuya places a hand on his hip, dropping his smile.

“Oops,” he offers mockingly as he makes his way back to the car. He pulls the driver’s side door open, then hops back in, slamming the door shut.

Akutagawa and Atsushi turn their gaze to Dazai.

Dazai swallows nervously, then speaks in a rattled voice. “He’s fine. He's just cranky because he didn’t sleep well. I’m sure,” he offers unconvincingly.

The group manages to be coordinated enough to make it to the lake, Chuuya and Atsushi wearing proper swim attire, Dazai dressed in a full coverage wetsuit, and Akutagawa still fully clothed. They rent four paddle boards, but only three of them get any real use. Akutagawa insists on staying seated beneath the umbrella, safe and sound on the shore.

Despite Akutagawa stating it isn’t any of their business, Atsushi can’t help but take notice of the way Chuuya and Dazai are acting. They bicker, argue, prank, yell, threaten, annoy etc etc, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary. It’s just that… Chuuya seems to be the one instigating most things.

Is that normal?

Atsushi doesn’t exactly know him well enough to say.

Everytime Dazai manages to stand up properly, Chuuya relentlessly shoves him over with his paddle. The first couple times were justified, but it’s just getting a little excessive now. And there’s a noticeable lack of playfulness.

Holding on to the edge of his board, most of his body staying afloat in the water, Dazai pouts.

“This is no fun at all. I may as well just drown myself,” he whines.

“I hope you do,” Chuuya spits back. “Stupid fish like you should be loving the water anyway.”

In a quick, harsh smack to the water, Chuuya splashes an alarming amount of water right at Dazai’s face with his paddle. Before waiting to assess the damage, Chuuya turns his head and paddles away.

Atsushi stays seated on his paddleboard, now stuck between checking on Dazai—who’s slowly letting himself sink into the water—and following after Chuuya—who’s really starting to freak Atsushi out. He decides Dazai may very well follow through with his halfhearted threat at this rate, so he paddles over and grabs Dazai by the hair once that’s the only thing above water. He yanks him up, flopping him over his board. Dazai gasps for air dramatically.

“Oh boo, I’m really having such a dreadful time, I wish you’d just let me die,” he complains.

Atsushi frowns.

“Dazai, can’t you at least try to get along with Chuuya for now?”

Dazai sighs, pulling himself out of the water to properly sit on the board. He shrugs, dipping one end of his paddle into the water.

“I would, but you see he’s just such a feral beast, it seems there’s nothing that can be done.”

“I can hear ya, you ass!” Chuuya shouts from a considerable distance away.

“Oh don’t worry slug darling, I was just telling Atsushi how kind and gentle you are!” Dazai calls back.

“Go die!”

“Ah, you always know just what to say to get my heart racing!”

“What do I gotta say to get it to stop beating?”

Dazai turns back to Atsushi with a frown, lowering his voice again.

“See what I mean?”

Rather than agreeing and taking a side, Atsushi just furrows his brows, and turns to paddle back to shore. He's had enough of this.

Left to his lonesome, Dazai lays back on his board and looks up at the sky. Just as he closes his eyes, he’s tipped over into the water. Chuuya paddles right by with ease, looking perfectly self satisfied.

For a snack break, the four of them enjoy a watermelon, huddled together on the little patch of towels beneath the umbrella atop the sand. Starting to shiver despite the heat, Atsushi huddles into Akutagawa, who’s been soaking up the rays of the sun into his outfit since the moment they got here—even though he’s been in the shade the whole time. Akutagawa calls him a wimp, then slowly drapes an arm around him.

Chuuya sits awkwardly on the very edge of the towel patch, as far away from Dazai as possible. Glaring at him all the while.

Glancing slightly to the side at the subtle affection beside him, Dazai begins to theatrically whine about how cold he’s getting and how nice it would be for a sweet, loving partner to offer a tender embrace.

Chuuya sits stiff, refusing to move.

“Oh? I dunno, that sounds like something only high schoolers would bother doing. Seeing as it’s so ridiculous and stupid,” he shoots back.

That only seems to egg Dazai on further.

“It’s actually a rather common thing, not something unreasonable and unnecessary. You see, it actually has merit,” he responds with a carefree tone that carries just a slight edge to it.

“Does it now? So I guess everything needs ‘merit’ then? Thank god people only go on dates when they need a free meal.”

“I think that’s a perfectly sensible reason to agree to a date. But that isn’t what I mean. I just think some things are juvenile and hold too high of expectations,” Dazai’s voice starts to blend into something with a bit more emotion.

Chuuya’s grows firmer too.

“Some expectations are reasonable. Especially when you agree and commit to something. Unless commitment is juvenile to you.”

“It isn’t commitment that’s juvenile, it’s the performative display of it. Not everyone needs to throw a party to announce to the world that you’ve only been spreading one pair of legs for six months.”

Atsushi chokes on his bite of watermelon.

“Maybe the world doesn’t need to know. Maybe the pair of spread legs just wants a little effort to let him know how serious this relationship is,” Chuuya’s voice starts to raise.

Dazai crosses his arms.

“Maybe the legs need to stop overreacting and trust his partner.”

“Maybe he’d trust him a little more if his partner wasn’t a lying, two faced, scheming bastard who can’t even give a proper halfass excuse for why he didn’t show up!”

“Maybe something came up and that’s all the legs need to know!” Dazai snaps as he stands abruptly, turning to walk off.

Chuuya scoffs.

“Where ya going? Oh wait, lemme guess. Did something come up?” he yells as Dazai makes his way out of earshot.

Once Chuuya turns back around, he’s faced with wide eyes and faces of uncomfortable shock from both Atsushi and Akutagawa. A few other curious eyes around the shore watch the post commotion cooldown.

Chuuya scowls.

“What?” he snarls.

The pair immediately avert their eyes.

“Nothing,” Atsushi says quickly.

Chuuya taps his foot before standing and storming off in the opposite direction.

Left to process whatever that was, Atsushi nuzzles in just a bit closer.

“We aren’t like that, right?” he asks hesitantly.

Akutagawa lets out a tired sigh, waiting before answering.

“Which aspect of their dysfunction are you currently referring to?”

Atsushi moves to sit up properly, gently taking Akutagawa’s arm off of him and guiding him down to read his head in his lap. Like a cat momentarily allowing affection, Akutagawa curls up and closes his eyes as Atsushi cards his fingers through his hair.

“I mean, you and I fight but. You’d tell me if something really bothered you. Wouldn’t you?”

Akutagawa shifts just a bit, his arms curling inward toward his chest.

“I suppose. Are you insinuating that you and I tend to resolve our issues without speaking in riddles?”

Atsushi softly scratches his nails across Akutagawa’s scalp.

“More or less. Maybe it’s just easier to judge when looking at it from the outside,” he speaks with a small voice as he looks out at the water.

Akutagawa coughs lightly, readjusting before settling back in.

“They have a lot of history. Dazai has done things that many may deem unforgivable. I don’t quite blame them for their complicated methods of communication.”

“More like complete lack of communication,” Atsushi mumbles.

“You should know better than most how challenging it is to recognize and verbalize one’s own feelings. I myself am no stranger to it.”

“Yeah, but we usually figure out what we mean when we do things. Like, I know you want me to make you tea when you bite my forearm.”

Akutagawa’s lips curl ever so slightly into a small smile.

“Weretiger, what are your feelings regarding small relationship milestones?”

Atsushi smiles.

“Anniversaries?” he laughs softly. “I’m not sure. I’ve never really done this sort of stuff before.”

“Would acknowledging the passing of time please you?” Akutagawa’s eyes flutter open as he almost whispers his question.

Atsushi’s smile turns fond.

“I think so. What about you?”

Akutagawa shifts again, keeping his eyes pointing toward the ground.

“It carries little weight for me. But if it pleases you, I am willing to respond accordingly.”

Atsushi’s smile widens. He ruffles Akutagawa’s hair as he speaks teasingly.

“You softy.”

Akutagawa’s face flushes redder beyond the sunburn, and he jolts up abruptly.

“Do not pet me, you’re the feline. I should be treating you like a mere house cat instead,” he says harshly.

Atsushi’s smile immediately falls into a frustrated frown.

“I’m a tiger, not a feline!”

“Tigers are felines, you fool.”

“No they aren’t!”

“I refuse to argue with someone with such little intelligence.”

“Well I refuse to argue with someone who dresses like a creature of the night in 30° weather!”

“Then stop arguing.”

“I’m not the one arguing, you are!”

Past a “do not enter” sign, an old rickety diving platform made of rotting wood creaks with any small movement. Chuuya sits cross-legged upside down on the underside of the edge. Sulking with a scowl.

The creak of footsteps approaching above him has Chuuya’s face contorting further with anger.

“Go away, Dazai.”

The creaking gets closer, the whole platform swaying slightly with each step. Then two wetsuit-covered legs dangle off the edge, blocking Chuuya’s inverted view of the lake.

Chuuya nearly growls.

“I said go away.”

“How long are you going to be upset about this?”

The question has Chuuya clenching both his jaw and fists.

“Until you’re dead. And then some.”

“Chuuya.”

“What do you want me to say?” he snaps back. “A year? A week? You can’t put a time limit on feelings, y'know."

Dazai exhales softly, kicking his feet ever so slightly. He leans back, causing a loud creak to sound through the platform.

“Then what do you want from me? Everything seemed fine last night. I thought you got over it after we talked.”

“I can be pissed at you and still care about you. Giving you a kiss doesn’t mean I forgive you. I just want a little normalcy so this trip doesn’t feel like a disaster,” Chuuya mutters.

Dazai lets the words soak in his brain, silence surrounding them.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” Dazai admits quietly.

“Tough luck,” Chuuya spits back. “You can’t just sweep this under the rug. You fucked up. And you know you fucked up because you’re actin like cleaning the tent and touching me all gentle and pretending I don’t have feelings is gonna magically fix this.”

Dazai’s legs stop swinging, and Chuuya wonders for a moment if he stopped breathing as well. An uncomfortable amount of time passes before Dazai speaks again. Quiet, soft, disgustingly vulnerable and desperate.

“Tell me what to do. I’ll do it,” earnestly.

“Be honest,” Chuuya states firmly.

Dazai swallows.

“Okay,” his voice cracks slightly.

Chuuya shifts in his seat, the sky and lake having switched places in his line of sight.

“Where were you that night?” he asks.

“At home,” Dazai replies almost instantly.

Chuuya feels his heart jolt at that. It’s almost worse than if he was out doing something with someone else. He figured the excuse “something came up” was utter bullshit. But this…

“What were you doing?”

“Drinking. Mostly.”

Chuuya bites the inside of his cheek. Dazai feels his vision blur at the edges.

“What about when I called? Was your phone dead?”

A small breeze brushed past them, threatening to carry Dazai’s words along with it.

“I watched it ring.”

That reveal has Chuuya’s heart sinking instead. He only has one last question. The one he wanted to ask from the beginning.

“Why?”

Dazai could give Chuuya a million different answers. A million different reasons. A million different excuses for why he said he’d be there, then spent the night listening to furious drunken voicemails of an understandably heartbroken Chuuya. Refusing to show up. Or explain himself.

But he’s broken enough promises. Chuuya deserves the truth.

“I was scared.”

Chuuya takes a shaky inhale, but doesn’t respond. He’s not sure what to say to that.

“Scared because it is a big deal. And because I don’t know how to be normal with you. Or anyone, really. But especially you,” Dazai continues.

Chuuya still doesn’t speak.

“I know that isn’t an excuse. But you asked ‘why’ and so,” Dazai places a hand on the back of his neck, looking at the same view as Chuuya. Just different. “That’s why.”

The explanation processes in Chuuya’s mind, but he plays it over and over again. It doesn’t make him feel better. If anything, he feels worse. Worse knowing Dazai chose to run away.

That he chose his own suffering over Chuuya.

He still doesn’t respond. Because what is he supposed to say?

He doesn’t forgive Dazai. Not in the slightest.

But it’s getting late. And he’s tired. And this is starting to feel stupid.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now?” Dazai asks, testing the mood.

Chuuya shuts it down with a sigh.

“I need three more things before I even think about forgiving you,” he finally says.

Dazai’s lips twitch with a slight smirk.

“How spoiled,” his legs start to kick again. “What are your demands then?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes, his own lips growing weary of a frown.

“I want a proper apology,” Dazai hums to show he’s listening as Chuuya lists off his expectations. “I get to punch you in the stomach,” Dazai groans weakly at that, but doesn’t argue.

Chuuya waits a moment before revealing his final demand.

“And you have to make it up to me.”

“How?”

“Figure it out, smartass.”

Chuuya stands, making his way out from under the platform and back upright. He keeps his arms crossed, looking down at Dazai with a slightly unimpressed expression. Dazai grins up at him.

“Alright,” he moves to stand, Chuuya’s gaze reluctantly following him until he’s forced to look up. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Good,” Chuuya responds, turning and walking back toward the grass.

Dazai follows after him.

Chuuya stops as Dazai approaches, looking back to smile at him. Dazai smiles back, opening his mouth to say something. All that comes out is a sharp “owmff” as Chuuya sucker punches him in the gut. Dazai doubles over, groaning in pain.

“Right, that’s one outta three,” Chuuya dusts his hands off, turning to walk back to the shore. “Let’s head back.”

“Progress,” Dazai wheezes out with a weak smile.

Back at the campsite once more, a similar routine to the previous night ensues. Chuuya gets to work preparing dinner; ramen tonight. Atsushi and Dazai work on getting the fire started—Dazai actually helps this time. And Akutagawa battles creeping heat exhaustion with a bag of ice as he sits silently in his camping chair, noticeably further away from the growing fire.

Dinner is enjoyed in a circle around the flickering fire. Dazai waves at his mouth non stop, complaining about how spicy it is. Everyone else eats without complaint.

After a bit of drinking, they play a few rounds of Never Have I Ever, which quickly spirals into Atsushi sitting in fear while the other three admit to crimes ranging from petty theft to prolonged physical torture. Atsushi’s pretty sure they’ve all forgotten the point of the game and are just trying to one up each other in an increasingly horrifying way. The game ends with Atsushi having put only two fingers down, and the others abandoning the concept entirely long before.

Dazai cuts Chuuya off from drinks early, telling him he can get drunk after they’ve finished enjoying s'mores. They all gorge on marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers until their stomachs hurt. Atsushi eats a startlingly larger amount than everyone else combined. Akutagawa eventually neglects roaring his marshmallows and keeps himself busy sneaking into the chocolate.

A small argument grows heated as Atsushi explains how you have to evenly cook the marshmallow to reach a perfect golden brown, and Dazai reasons that it’s more efficient to light the entire marshmallow on fire then blow it out—enjoying the crispy “skin” then repeating the process with the mushy inside like a sugary Russian nesting doll. Atsushi turns to Chuuya, hoping for reason. To his dismay, Chuuya agrees with Dazai’s method.

After the s’mores, Chuuya goes right back to drinking, though Dazai matches him three drinks to every one Chuuya has until they’re both uncomfortably giggly and touchy. Akutagawa and Atsushi excuse themselves to their tent early, whispering to each other about the earplugs they ensured they packed.

The fire dies down to embers, Chuuya slowly sways his way to step behind Dazai in his chair. He rests his hands on Dazai’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Just you and me,” he slurs out teasingly.

Dazai shivers, leaning his head back to smile up at Chuuya.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he comments.

Chuuya giggles, his hands sliding down further.

“Somethin bout the booze and the starlight’s makin you look real irresistible right now.”

Dazai tilts his head to the side like an offering, and Chuuya takes it willingly. One hand slides back up to gently wrap around Dazai’s throat while he starts to bite and lick around Dazai’s ear. A shaky sigh leaves Dazai’s lips as his eyes fall closed.

“Do you think we should—“ Dazai’s breath hitches as Chuuya takes Dazai’s lobe between his teeth and pulls. “—take this back to the tent?”

Chuuya mouths his way down Dazai’s neck, squeezing his throat tighter.

“I dunno,” he mumbles playfully against Dazai’s skin. “I think I’m gonna have to fuck you if we do that.”

Dazai instantly jumps up, nearly tripping over his own chair as he starts dragging Chuuya toward the tent. The two of them giggle as they stumble their way over.

Once inside the tent, Dazai clumsily scrambles to zip the entrance up, while Chuuya rummages through his countless bags searching for something. Once Chuuya’s found the lube and small box of condoms packed, he tosses them on the bed and yanks Dazai into a messy kiss.

The two of them fall onto the air mattress, practically devouring each other and tugging at each other's clothes. Dazai manages to pull his sweatpants down just enough for Chuuya to reach his hand down to grope him over his boxers. Dazai gasps, a hand flying to cover his mouth and keep him quiet.

Chuuya starts with slow, agonizing strokes, palming him almost cruelly. Dazai’s eyes squeeze shut as he strains to stop himself from moaning. The sight has Chuuya grinning, his own pants feeling painfully tight.

“You’re not so obnoxious when you’re under me like this, y'know?" Chuuya whispers gruffly.

Dazai nods wordlessly, grinding his hips up against Chuuya’s hand. The eagerness encourages Chuuya to lean down and bite at Dazai’s neck, slipping his hand properly under the boxers. A small whimper makes its way past Dazai’s hand as Chuuya wraps his fingers around him, stroking fast and desperate.

Once Dazai’s legs are trembling and a steady stream of muffled whines bless Chuuya’s ears, he pulls his hand away.

“Turn over,” he instructs quietly, moving to sit back on his heels.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate.

Laying on his stomach, Dazai feels Chuuya pull his hips up and his pants down, and another shiver runs through his limbs at the cold air hitting his skin.

“You better stay quiet,” Chuuya whispers as he reaches for the bottle.

Dazai bends into the arch, looking over his shoulder with a devious grin and lidded eyes.

“You’re the one that always screams when I—“ Dazai’s attempted taunt is cut off but a gasp when cold, wet fingers rub at his entrance.

“I’m sorry, were you saying something?” Chuuya teases as he presses a finger in slowly.

Dazai’s too busy biting his own hand to hold back his sounds to come up with any sort of quip. Only small muted sounds of pleasure and subtle rustling of clothes and sleeping bags fill the night air around them as Chuuya works his way up to three fingers.

Dazai buries his face into one of the sleeping bags as he waits for Chuuya to undo his own pants and roll the condom on. As he slowly presses in, they both sigh in unison. Chuuya gives Dazai a moment to relax and adjust before gently rolling his hips.

Hips held firmly beneath him, Chuuya sets a steady pace as he pants softly into Dazai’s ear. Dazai manages to stay relatively quiet, only tiny whimpers escaping when Chuuya hits a particular spot every few thrusts. Soon enough though, Chuuya focuses entirely on that spot, and Dazai has to bite down on the sleeping bag, gagging himself to keep from crying out in pleasure.

Chuuya feels Dazai tightening around him, and takes notice of the way his hand snuck down to stroke himself in time with Chuuya’s thrusts. That knowledge has him doubling his efforts until Dazai’s shaking. He bites his lip to keep his own sounds at bay, his hips starting to stutter as Dazai rides the waves of his bliss. Chuuya follows shortly after, spilling into the condom and groaning soundlessly against Dazai’s back.

Chuuya pulls out after a few moments of breathless panting, gently turning Dazai over to kiss him deeply. He ties the condom off, deciding dealing with it sounds like a morning problem as he tosses it aside. Dazai huffs exhaustedly, commenting about the grossness of that. But he can’t say much with his own release splattered over his only proper form of sleepwear.

He decides he doesn’t need pants to sleep anyway, and that Chuuya will make up for any warmth he loses.

Chuuya cracks open a bottled water, tossing another one to Dazai and insisting he drinks it all. Dazai briefly complains he’ll need to pee in the middle of the night, but downs it all anyway. The alcohol and post-exertional haze ensuring their mouths feel like sandpaper.

Dazai curls up against Chuuya’s chest, wriggling in and seeking heat in Chuuya’s naturally elevated body temperature. Chuuya holds him tightly in return, placing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Still haven't forgiven you,” he reminds with a soft, sleepy smile.

Dazai yawns, nuzzling closer.

“I know,” he squeezes Chuuya slightly. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.

Chuuya’s exhausted enough that he chooses to believe that.

“Night. I love you, stinky mackerel.”

“Goodnight. I love you too, slimy slug. You can drool on me all you’d like tonight,” Dazai mumbles, half asleep already.

Chuuya smiles wider, dozing off soon after.

The next morning, Dazai’s the first one awake—feeling wonderfully refreshed and motivated. He sneaks his way around Chuuya, slipping out of the tent to get a head start on making it up to Chuuya.

He lets Akutagawa and Atsushi sleep in, figuring it’s the least he could do in case they heard anything unseemly last night.

For breakfast, Dazai decides to go with something simple; tamago kake gohan. Though he underestimates—or rather—forgets how obnoxious cooking rice is. It takes him nearly an hour just to get the rice ready. By then, everyone else has woken up for the day.

Atsushi and Akutagawa watch Dazai with a mix of apprehension and suspicion. Both wondering just how bad Dazai must’ve pissed Chuuya off to get him to do something this thoughtful.

Chuuya stumbles out of the tent, more hungover than he’d like to admit. His eyes widen when he takes in the scene of Dazai cheerfully cracking an egg into a bowl of rice.

“Goooooodmorning,” Dazai sings out with a smile.

Chuuya stands frozen in shock.

“Which one of you told him to do that?” he looks to Atsushi and Akutagawa. Atsushi shrugs.

“We assumed you had threatened him into this,” Akutagawa responds.

Chuuya’s eyes snap back to Dazai, who’s still grinning ear to ear as he mixes the egg in with some soy sauce.

“He’s doing this voluntarily?” Chuuya asks in disbelief to no one in particular.

Dazai sighs, his smile slightly dipping into a small frown.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me as if I weren’t right here,” he states as he walks over to Chuuya. He hands him the bowl, steam still rising. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to do something nice for Chuuya?”

Chuuya hesitantly takes the bowl, feeling his alcohol battered stomach growl. He glances down at the meal, then back up at Dazai.

“What did you put in this?” he interrogates.

Dazai hums.

“Rice, egg, soy sauce, I think we have some sesame seeds if you—“

“Did you poison it?”

“No.”

“You didn’t put laxatives in this again, did you?”

Dazai chuckles, sighing as if fondly recalling the memory.

“No, not this time. It’s just egg on rice,” he insists. “Atsushi’s enjoying it, see?”

Dazai gestures over to Atsushi, who’s already halfway finished. His face flushes red as everyone turns to look at him.

“Why are you all looking at me?” he mumbles through a mouth full of rice.

Akutagawa reaches over to wipe a small bit of stray rice off of Atsushi’s chin.

“You’re quite the disaster sometimes, Weretiger,” he mutters.

Atsushi scowls, swallowing his food.

“Says you,” he argues back.

The two fall into a natural bickering rhythm, allowing Dazai to take one step closer, tone dipping soft.

“You told me to make it up to you,” he starts, reaching out to tenderly hold Chuuya’s face. “So you get twenty four hours of a thoughtful, kind, gentlemenly, non-scheming, honest Osamu Dazai.”

Chuuya holds the hot bowl, squinting his eyes as he observes Dazai’s face and tries to decide if he’s going to trust this or not. He slightly raises a brow.

“And what happens when those twenty four hours are up?”

“I go back to being a royal pain in the ass,” Dazai answers with a grin. “But you get the satisfaction of me being your dog for a day.” the words almost seem to pain him to say.

That stirs something in Chuuya.

He smirks slightly, leaning into Dazai’s touch.

“Alright. What are the conditions?”

“No conditions, I’m all yours,” Dazai reassures.

Chuuya huffs a laugh, bringing a bite of food up. “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he mutters before taking a bite.

Having had nothing outlined for their final day, the group decides to have another lake day after lunch. Mostly to get some use out of that dinghy Dazai mysteriously impulse bought. It takes about 20 minutes to fill it with air, the size being much larger than any of them anticipated.

Except for Dazai, who doesn’t seem shocked in the slightest.

Chuuya takes full advantage of Dazai’s promise, ordering him around nonstop. He has him apply sunscreen for him, telling him to take his time and softly massage his back as he works. He has him carry the bag, cooler, umbrella, and all the towels down to the shore. He has him fetch him drink after drink. He has him doing really anything he can think of.

It’s great.

Atsushi feels his skin crawl at the sight of Dazai listening happily without complaint. It’s like he’s possessed by an evil Dazai.

Akutagawa manages to allow himself to be convinced into wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but remains hidden under the umbrella all the same. No one pushes him to leave his seclusion.

Lazing around with a canned lemon sour in one hand and the other being massaged diligently by Dazai, Chuuya lays on his beach towel. Shades on, shoes off, hair damp, and skin starting to blend slightly sun-kissed. He couldn’t be happier.

Unless of course…

“Be a good doggy and go fetch my speaker from the car and put some good music on,” he demands.

Dazai jumps up, giving a mock salute.

“Sir yes sir,” he says in a serious tone before turning and trotting his way back to the parking lot for the 5th time now.

Chuuya smiles to himself, laying all the way back with a satisfied exhale.

Atsushi sits beside Akutagawa, outside the shade of the umbrella as he tries his best to build a sandcastle with nothing but moist sand, a few pieces of garbage, and a broken pail that had washed up on the shore. Akutagawa watches him silently, occasionally offering constructive criticism in the form of insults.

Dazai jogs back—actually jogs—having been speedy with his retrieval, and plops himself back down next to Chuuya. Awaiting his next task.

Chuuya tells him to get the music set up for him, then annoyedly grumbles “no” repeatedly as Dazai hits shuffle over and over again on Chuuya’s phone until a song he decides is good enough begins to play through the small speaker. His smile returns, and he relaxes again.

“Does Chuuya need anything?” Dazai asks attentively after a few minutes of stagnation.

Chuuya hums, racking his brain for a task to assign him.

“Yeah, fan me a bit. I’m startin to get a bit too warm.”

Dazai scouts the area, searching visually for something to use as a makeshift fan. Like an actual lightbulb going off in his head, Dazai excitedly sits up straighter, then reaches for the day pack. He pulls out one of the books he packed—meant to be enjoyed while lounging around at the lake—and uses it to fan Chuuya.

Chuuya hums happily, bringing his arms up behind his head.

“That’s more like it,” he comments to himself.

When Chuuya requests another drink, Dazai takes a bit longer grabbing it. Chuuya doesn’t question it, just happy to be doted on. Dazai suggests they all take the dinghy for a spin once Chuuya finishes his drink.

Tipsy and quite pleased with how the day is going so far, Chuuya instantly agrees to the proposed adventure, bringing his drink with him. Akutagawa needs a little convincing, but Dazai reassures him he won’t have to even touch the water. Atsushi tells him he can bring a sun hat and a towel to stay hidden from the sun. He eventually relents.

The four of them all climb into the comically large dinghy, finding it’s actually the perfect size for all of them together. Dazai pushes them off the shore, then pisses everyone off as the safe, dry protection of the inside of the boat is infiltrated by Dazai’s wet body while he struggles to climb in.

Once he flops inside, everyone else scoots to the other side of the boat to avoid getting soaked. Dazai accepts it with a sigh, grabbing the oars, and leading them out to open water.

Out near the middle of the lake, Akutagawa instantly regrets trusting any of them as Chuuya stands and decides to do a backflip off the edge of the dinghy into the water. Akutagawa wraps the towel placed over his head around his body tighter as the splash reaches inside the boat.

He directs his glare to Dazai mostly. The one who promised he wouldn’t get wet.

At least Atsushi followed through on his promise to shield him from the relentless death rays of the fireball in the sky.

Dazai pays the anger no mind, standing as well, and back-flopping into the water after Chuuya. It sounds like it hurt. And it probably did.

Atsushi gives Akutagawa an apologetic look as he’s splashed again, before standing up as well.

“Weretiger, don’t you dare,” he warns.

Atsushi forces a smile.

“You’ll dry off quick,” he offers before cannonballing in after the other two.

Both Dazai and Chuuya cheer Atsushi on as he hits the water and absolutely drenches Akutagawa.

“I’m going to kill all three of them,” Akutagawa mutters to himself with the soaked towel still wrapped around him.

After climbing back in, jumping off, finishing off his drink, and splashing about with the others for the next few hours, Chuuya suddenly feels exhaustion start to creep up on him. His eyes droop a bit, and he swims back to the dinghy and pulls himself up. His hand goes to his head, holding it as a wave of dizziness hits him and he slips a bit. Falling onto his back in the boat.

Atsushi swims closer, holding on to the edge of the dinghy.

“Chuuya, are you okay?”

Sitting up and forcing himself to recover, Chuuya nods, giving a reassuring smile.

“Yea, I think I just had a little too much to drink,” he reasons.

Dazai makes his way back as well, crawling in next to him. The inside of the boat has its own puddle, and Akutagawa feels borderline murderous about it. He refuses to let Atsushi anywhere near him when he makes his way back in too.

“Maybe we should head back if you aren’t feeling well,” dazai offers sincerely.

Chuuya shakes his head no.

“No no, I’m fine. Don’t let me ruin your fun.”

Nobody in the boat believes him, all of them looking at him with concern.

Chuuya frowns.

“I’m serious, it was just a little dizziness. I'm probably just drunk.”

Wordlessly, Dazai grabs the oars and begins rowing them back to shore.

Akutagawa is immensely grateful to be back on land, practically bolting back to his safe spot under the umbrella, replacing his soaked towel with Atsushi’s fresh, dry one. Atsushi figures that’s deserved and allows it.

Dazai guides Chuuya, gently holding his hands while he nearly trips over his own feet. His eyes stay droopy, starting to glaze over just a bit. He yawns, feeling heavy.

“Sleepy?” Dazai asks as he helps him lay back down on his towel.

“No,” Chuuya grumbles before yawning again.

He stubbornly fights to keep his eyes open until Atsushi decides to call it and suggest they head back. Atsushi suggests the possibility of heatstroke, Dazai confidently assures him that isn’t it, and that he must be simply coming down with something. A cold or something of the like.

Chuuya’s too exhausted to have an opinion on what he’s feeling.

Clearly in no state to drive, Akutagawa takes the wheel on the way back. Chuuya looks half alive while he continues to battle his sudden fatigue.

Back at the campsite, Dazai silently leads Chuuya back to their tent. Chuuya doesn’t fight it, he just lets Dazai lay him down and wrap him up cozily.

“‘m jus gonna close my eyes for a bit,” he mumbles, already practically passed out.

Dazai nods, carding his fingers through Chuuya’s hair.

“Just rest, slug. Rest as long as you need.”

Atsushi and Akutagawa watch carefully as Dazai grabs the car keys and hops into the driver's seat. Increasingly concerned, Atsushi asks him where he’s going. It’s getting late, nearing dinner time now. Dazai reassures him by informing him he’s just going to pick up some medicine for Chuuya.

He tells them not to wait for him and to have whatever they’d like for dinner.

Then he’s off.

Confused and a bit unsettled, Atsushi can’t do anything other than watch as the car drives off.

He makes his way back over to Akutagawa, staring at the cooler and day pack, trying to come up with a meal. He reaches into the day pack, pulling out an empty box. He eyes it curiously.

“Weretiger, why is the motion sickness medication entirely gone?” he questions.

Atsushi furrows his brows.

“Huh? How much was left?”

“Four tablets,” he mumbles before squinting his eyes at Atsushi. “If you’re trying to prolong our argument from the car ride here, this is a rather idiotic way to make a point.”

Atsushi crosses his arms.

“I didn’t touch them! They must’ve fallen out or something,” he suggests.

Akutagawa believes him. For now.

They both turn their focus back to the problem of what to have for dinner.

Atsushi smiles sheepishly.

“Well, there’s lots of rice leftover from this morning.”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes.

“Chazuke?”

Atsushi nods as his smile grows a bit more confident.

Chuuya’s eyes flutter open, the first thing they focus on being small twinkling lights far in the distance painting a black canvas. He blinks, adjusting his heavy eyes. It’s the night sky. How pretty. It’s nice to see it so far out from the light pollution of the city.

He smiles before his body comes back to him. The mattress beneath him feels extra soft. Almost like a waterbed. He feels so cozy, until his head starts to throb and his mouth feels painfully dry.

Is he hungover again?

And when did the roof of their tent go missing?

He tries to sit up, instantly getting hit with a dizzy sensation through his whole body. He groans, then realizes he’s not in his tent. He's in the dinghy. In the middle of the lake. In the middle of the night.

“What the hell—“ he croaks out as he tries to sit up properly.

Dazai’s quick to stop him, gently grabbing hold of his shoulders and guiding him back down to lay against the pillows. Chuuya’s eyes widen, wondering if this is some sort of fever dream.

“Dazai, why are we—?”

“Shhh,” Dazai hushes softly, reaching into a bag and pulling out a canned iced coffee. “You should drink this. You had two hundred milligrams of dimenhydrinate on top of drinking. You’re going to feel pretty yucky without it.”

Chuuya jolts up again.

“You drugged me?!”

Dazai holds his arms out in a defensive posture, trying not to rock the boat.

“Only a little,” he admits. “I calculated how much you could tolerate without seizing or going into cardiac arrest.”

“That isn’t very reassuring, you bastard!” Chuuya yells. “What the hell were you thinking? Why did you—?”

“Chuuya please relax, you’re going to frighten the fish,” Dazai says calmly. “And I didn’t do anything if that’s what you’re worried about. No pranks, nothing weird. I simply let you rest in our tent.”

Chuuya feels his eye twitch again.

“Then why am I in a lake?”

Dazai smiles genuinely.

“For our date,” he declares.

Chuuya blinks.

“What?”

Dazai shrugs.

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so I kept you occupied.”

“By sedating me,” Chuuya states, adding the clarification on himself.

Dazai beams.

“Exactly.”

Chuuya takes a deep breath, processing it all. He should probably be more upset. If it were anybody else he’d be livid. But it it’s own weird, fucked up way, it’s… kinda sweet.

Chuuya huffs out a quiet laugh that grows into falling back over holding his stomach as he laughs until tears form in his eyes.

Dazai sits nervously, wondering if maybe he made a slight miscalculation and Chuuya has slipped into delirium. He laughs awkwardly, reaching back into the bag to grab some water.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Chuuya gasps out between laughter.

Dazai smiles slightly.

“Love makes you do crazy things?” he offers hesitantly.

Chuuya catches his breath, slowly sitting back up. He grabs the water from Dazai, chugging almost the whole thing in one go. He wipes his mouth with his forearm after.

“I’m going to fucking kill you when we’re done here, got it?” Chuuya half heartedly threatens with a smile.

Dazai’s smile grows.

“Read you loud and clear,” he replies softly.

Chuuya grabs the coffee next, chugging that one as well. Once he’s finished, he frowns.

“So, wanna explain the date part of whatever this is?”

Dazai nods before reaching back into the bag once more. He pulls out a packaged box of assorted nigiri, places it on his lap, then pulls out the final item; a small bottle of clearly cheap as dirt wine. He holds the two objects proudly.

“Dinner, drinks, and some star gazing,” he explains.

Chuuya crosses his arms, looking down at their convenience store dinner.

“I think I’ve done enough drinking this weekend,” he murmurs with a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips.

Dazai holds the wine bottle out closer for Chuuya to see through the thick darkness around them.

“Oh don’t worry, there’s no alcohol in it.”

“You got us nonalcoholic wine?” Chuuya chuckles quietly as he takes the bottle and observes it.

“The effects of the dimenhydrinate wore off two or three hours ago, but the medication is still technically in your system. You really shouldn’t have any more alcohol unless you wanna end up hallucinating.”

It looks like shit. And it’ll probably taste like shit. But Dazai’s beaming, and Chuuya supposes shitty booze-free wine is better than hallucinating. Apparently.

Dazai reaches beside him and grabs the lantern he smuggled from their campsite and turns it on. They enjoy their 5-star candlelit dinner beneath the stars together, passing the horrible drink back and forth and laughing about how horrified Akutagawa looked when Atsushi betrayed him by jumping into the lake.

Once they’re bellies are full and the bottle is empty, Dazai gathers up the trash and places it back in the bag. Before Chuuya can start to settle into the blankets beneath them to watch the sky, Dazai reaches out and takes his hands in his. His thumbs rub gently over Chuuya’s knuckles.

For a moment, he just stares, lips parted as if he’s about to speak. But no words come out. After a shaky breath, Dazai moves to turn the lantern off, then grabs Chuuya’s hands again.

Held by the darkness again, Dazai clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers earnestly.

Chuuya’s heart skips a beat, but two words aren’t gonna cut it. He gently squeezes Dazai’s hands.

“For?”

“For being a coward. For pushing you away even when I knew how much you cared. For pushing you away because I knew how much you cared,” he squeezes Chuuya’s hands back in return. “I’m sorry for making it sound stupid. And avoiding it. I’m sorry I didn’t show up. I’m sorry I made you think I would. I’m sorry for being an asshole all weekend and treating your feelings like they didn’t matter.”

Chuuya hums, taking it all in.

“And?” he encourages.

Dazai huffs, racking his brain for more ways he fucked up. Recently, at least. He takes another deep breath.

“And, I’m sorry for lying. And being lazy. And intentionally annoying. And for taking your card and buying a dinghy, eight rice balls, iced coffee, a tray of nigiri, gross wine, canned crab that I ate by myself in the tent earlier, three chocolate bars, a torch lighter shaped like a gun, and a really cool knife that I actually think you’ll like too,” he goes on.

Chuuya blinks as he processes all of that. Not exactly surprised, not impressed either.

“And?”

Dazai frowns, genuinely unable to think of anything else he’s done that was worthy of an apology. He looks down at their hands, holding each other sweetly. Then it comes to him.

He looks back up at Chuuya sheepishly, both of them barely able to make each other's expressions out in the nighttime darkness.

“I’m sorry for grinding up four tablets of Dramamine and dissolving them into one of your lemon sours when I was supposed to be Good Dazai today…?” he says hesitantly.

Chuuya gives him a few moments to sit in the uncomfortable unknown of silence. Then, he smiles.

“That’s two out of three. Though you’re gonna have to work on your apologies moving forward cause that was crap,” he finally says.

Dazai does a quick fist pump as if he passed some sort of test. Then he turns back to Chuuya with a small frown.

“Is the romantic late night lake date not enough to make it up to you?” he asks pitifully.

Chuuya looks Dazai up and down like he’s thinking it over. Then he grabs him by his shirt collar and pulls him down next to him. Laying awkwardly in the pile of blankets and pillows in a dinghy just barely large enough to hold an entire Dazai, the pair find their fingers intertwined and their bodies pressed up against one another.

Gazing up at the sky of stars, Chuuya leans his head against Dazai.

“Not yet. The date isn’t over,” he says softly.

Dazai’s chest flutters, and he gives Chuuya’s hand three quick squeezes.

“We’ll reassess later then?”

Chuuya gives him three squeezes in return.

“Mmhm. So just shut up for now and enjoy the view.”

Dazai’s eyes drift to the side, keeping his head pointing up but his gaze on Chuuya.

“Oh, I will.”

Silence wraps around them gently while Chuuya watches the twinkling of the stars, and Dazai watches the twinkling of Chuuya’s eyes. Dazai’s cheeks flush a slight tint of red as he averts his eyes, pretending he was stargazing the whole time as well when Chuuya turns to look at him.

“Just so you know,” he starts, a small smirk forming on his face. “since you violated the terms and conditions of our contract—“

“Contract?”

“—you owe me a brand new twenty four hours of being my obedient dog,” Chuuya finishes with a smug grin.

Dazai’s face falls into an unimpressed frown.

“It can’t be helped, can it?” he sighs.

“Nope,” Chuuya responds happily, rolling slightly to nuzzle his nose into the crook of Dazai’s neck.

Dazai hums contently, moving an arm to scooch under Chuuya and hold his hip. Chuuya scoots closer, letting one hand rest gently on Dazai’s chest, feeling his heartbeat.

After a few minutes, Dazai thinks Chuuya’s gone and fallen asleep, but before he can open his mouth to call his name, Chuuya’s hand starts to slowly run up and down in small movements against Dazai's chest. Dazai’s eyes flutter closed at the sensation, relaxing fully into their makeshift bed on the water.

Chuuya gives Dazai's neck a quick peck, then starts to sneak his hand lower. Down Dazai’s chest, rubbing gently to his stomach. Teasingly trailing his fingers back up to drag lightly across Dazai’s chest again. Lower and lower with each movement, Dazai holds his breath.

Chuuya’s hand slowly starts to rub over Dazai’s crotch, pulling a grin that presses against Dazai’s neck as he feels him start to harden. Dazai’s breath grows shaky, tiny gasps breaking through every so often.

“You’re so easy to rile up,” Chuuya whispers dangerously.

Dazai’s hips twitch, fighting to move into the friction.

“I’m not riled up…” he mutters with eyes squeezed shut.

Chuuya squeezes lightly, and Dazai moans a high breathless sound. Chuuya chuckles quietly.

“Right,” he feigns his belief in Dazai’s claim, bringing his hand back up to grab Dazai’s collar again. He pulls, rolling onto his back and pulling Dazai over him. “You gonna kiss me, or what?”

Dazai doesn’t need to be told twice.

The kiss is slow, soft, and sweet, but burning with intensity. Their legs slot together, lining up so Dazai can shamelessly grind against Chuuya’s own growing arousal. They sigh and pant into each others mouths, tongues brushing against each other.

Chuuya’s arms and legs both wrap around Dazai, fingers clawing at Dazai’s skin through his shirt and bandages as he grinds back up, quickening the pace. Dazai whines at the delicious sting, his hips already stuttering. He suddenly pulls back, leaving Chuuya dazed and a little annoyed.

“The hell are you—“ his voice trails off as Dazai rummages through another bag—this one much smaller—and pulls out the lube and condoms.

Dazai turns to Chuuya with a disproportionately innocent smile. Chuuya frowns.

“You’re joking.”

Dazai shrugs.

“You can say no. It was just a precaution,” he explains.

Chuuya gives it a moment of thought. It’s ridiculous. Really it is. But this whole thing has been ridiculous.

What’s a little more absurdity?

Chuuya huffs, moving to undo his pants and slide them off alongside his boxers.

“This is stupid,” he mutters, laying back down all the same. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Dazai’s innocent smile drips back into something more mischievous as he leans back over him and pops the bottle open.

“You’ll warm up,” he assures.

three fingers in and Chuuya’s immensely grateful for two things. One, the cold night air because, as annoying as it is, Dazai was right about the whole warming up thing. And two, the relative seclusion because, as annoying as it is, Dazai was right about Chuuya being the louder one out of the two of them.

Dazai still tries to shush him a few times, but Chuuya’s not about to shut his mouth cause Dazai’s a little paranoid. He’s enjoying himself. He’s not gonna hold back.

“Fuck, yes… yeah, a little deeper… don’t stop…” he pants.

Dazai tries, but regretfully his arm is getting a little tired. He leans his forehead against Chuuya’s.

“I am trying to prep you, you know. I do want to actually fuck you,” he almost whines.

Chuuya grinds his hips against Dazai’s hand, throwing his head back with a moan.

“Shut the fuck up… ‘m not ready…” he gives as an excuse.

Dazai knows better. But he also knows better than to pull back. So he curls his fingers upward instead, moving to whisper in Chuuya’s ear.

“Someone’s being greedy,” he taunts in a honey sweet voice.

The stimulation has Chuuya arching his back, gripping Dazai’s arm bruisingly as he cries out in pleasure.

“Do that again,” he practically demands breathlessly.

Dazai makes a small pouting sound.

“Chuuya, my hand is starting to cramp in this position,” he complains.

Chuuya huffs out a frustrated growl.

“Fine, put it in, ya big baby,” he finally permits.

Dazai wastes no time, rolling a condom on and replacing his fingers as he sinks all the way in with one gentle push. They moan into each other’s mouths at the contact, Chuuya instantly wrapping his arms and legs around Dazai again.

The dinghy rocks with each thrust, ripples of water travelling away from them. Dazai struggles to set a proper rhythm, both of them adjusting every few minutes.

The romance of midnight boat sex starts to feel like some sort of delusion. But Dazai refuses to give up, and Chuuya’s not letting him stop until he’s satisfied.

“Go… higher…” Chuuya huffs.

“I’m trying,” Dazai argues back, changing the angle of his hips again.

“Well you’re doing a shit job…” Chuuya mutters between gasps and moans.

“This is hard,” Dazai whines.

Finally, Chuuya’s had enough. He pushes Dazai off of him, then yanks him back down and switches their positions. Now straddling him, Chuuya scowls down at Dazai and brings his hand back to position him and sink back down.

Dazai whimpers as Chuuya takes him in again, gazing up at the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, silhouette framed by bright stars. His hands move to Chuuya’s hips, but Chuuya sets the pace.

At first, he rolls his hips slowly, enjoying the sight of Dazai starting to lose his mind. Dazai’s eyes are glazed, speckles of light shining off his dark irises. Chuuya hums, keeping the pace steady and sensual. He smirks slightly, bringing a hand up to slide its way to Dazai’s throat.

Dazai tilts his head back, granting access willingly as Chuuya wraps his fingers around his neck.

“No more runnin from me,” he pants out, tilting his head to the side, letting his hair hang down in tantalizing waves. “Got it, Osamu?”

Dazai moans, eyebrows curling up and hips starting to rock up into Chuuya. He nods in quick, eager movements, keeping his eyes on Chuuya.

“I won’t,” he huffs out. “I’m all yours.”

Pleased with that, Chuuya tightens his grip on Dazai’s throat and suddenly quickens his movements. The closer Dazai gets, the tighter Chuuya squeezes. Their eyes lock as moan after moan is passed between them, Dazai’s growing higher, Chuuya’s growing louder.

Chuuya’s free hand reaches down to stroke himself furiously, his eyes squeezing shut involuntarily as his hips start to stutter. Dazai jolts weakly a few times, gasping for breath.

“Harder…” he wheezes out, and Chuuya complies through the haze.

A high whine leaves Dazai’s mouth as Chuuya squeezes his throat almost painfully, and he fills the condom instantly while shivers wrack through his body. Chuuya releases him and uses his last bit of leverage to finish himself off with a cry. Dazai gasps for breath, watching through blurry eyes as Chuuya spills over his own hand and drips onto Dazai’s stomach.

Chuuya feels Dazai soften inside him, but makes no effort to move. They both gaze into each other's eyes as they catch their breaths, coming back down from the high.

Dazai smiles weakly.

“Kiss me,” he asks, somewhere between a request and a plea.

Chuuya smiles back, leaning down to press their lips together. Dazai’s hands slide up Chuuya’s waist, slipping his hands under his shirt and feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Happy belated six months,” he whispers against Chuuya’s lips.

Chuuya laughs breathlessly.

“You idiot.”

“I love you,” Dazai continues, a quick kiss between his words. “So much.”

Chuuya slides a hand down to rest over Dazai’s chest once more, feeling soothed by the rhythmic beating of his heart.

“Yea, I love you too,” he places one more kiss to Dazai’s lips. “That's three outta three, mackerel. You satisfied?” he teases softly.

Dazai lets his hands gently run up and down Chuuya’s back.

“Only if you are,” he whispers.

Chuuya can tell he means it.

Dazai offers to be the one to drive them back to the campsite in case Chuuya still feels drowsy. Chuuya insists it’d be safer for him to drive drunk than have Dazai behind the wheel.

They pull up quietly to the campsite, neither one wanting to wake the other two. Though that doesn’t seem to be a problem as they exit the car and notice their tent shaking. The sound of hardly muffled moans emanating from it.

“Oh my god,” Chuuya mutters, grabbing Dazai’s wrist and pulling him back. “We’re sleeping in the car,” he insists.

Dazai playfully pretends to resist, keeping his eyes on the terrifying sight.

“Oh, come on, aren’t you a little curious?” he asks in a whisper.

Chuuya scowls, opening the back door.

“They deserve some privacy after dealing with you all weekend.”

Dazai pouts as he’s shoved into the backseat.

“You were the one ruining paddle boarding with your aggression,” he points out.

Chuuya crawls in after him, making sure to close the door as silently as possible.

“I’m not doing this right now. It’s been a long, weird couple days and I’d like to end tonight on a high note. So shut your eyes and shut your mouth before you ruin my mood,” he grumbles as he adjusts the seats to recline back.

Dazai supposes ruining all his hard work would be counterproductive and exhausting. So he does exactly what he’s asked. They manage to fall asleep holding hands, uncomfortably contorted in the car seats.

Everyone's too exhausted to talk the next morning, let alone argue or bicker. Atsushi asks why Dazai and Chuuya slept in the car. Dazai explains that their tent had been infiltrated by mosquitos and they had no other choice than to retreat. They both have the bites to back it up—thanks to their little lake adventure—especially Chuuya. Waist down, he's practically covered.

Atsushi has a few bites here and there, and can’t help but tease Chuuya a little.

“You should’ve worn bug spray,” he informs. “You must not have been wearing enough since Ryuu and I didn’t have any bug problems.”

Chuuya manages enough energy with messy hair and deep eye bags to scowl.

“We weren’t spared because you were soaked in that horrid liquid. Mosquitos have no desire for my blood, so naturally they were less attracted to our tent,” Akutagawa explains.

Everyone tries to call him out on bullshitting them until he reveals he hasn’t had a single bite the whole trip. And never has. Ever. In his whole life.

So maybe he is immune.

Chuuya tries to force himself to start on breakfast, but having experienced the mother of all hangovers times a million, it’s quite clear to everyone he just needs to sit down. There’s still instant miso soup left, so Dazai heats up some water, Atsushi hand washes the mugs, and Akutagawa keeps watch over Chuuya to make sure he stays in his chair.

They all eat mostly in exhausted silence, it being abundantly clear that no one got enough sleep. Akutagawa asks if Chuuya is still feeling sick.

Chuuya furrows his brows.

“I’m not sick—“

“He’s feeling much better,” Dazai cuts in. “Atsushi was actually on the right track! Though it was just mild heat exhaustion, not heatstroke. I went out and got him some electrolytes like the thoughtful, generous partner I am.”

Atsushi and Akutagawa share a glance as Chuuya looks at Dazai with pure confusion.

Dazai lightly pinches Chuuya’s cheek.

“He’s just gonna need a little bit more time to recover fully. Silly slug needs to learn to take it easy,” he says with a patronizing tone.

Chuuya scowls further, looking like a furious pomeranian with his utterly drained state.

“It’d be easier to relax if I didn’t have to be the one doing everything all the time,” he grumbles.

“Dazai was being pretty helpful yesterday,” Atsushi notes. “Though that seemed more like some sort of punishment…”

“I assumed it was a sex thing,” Akutagawa adds.

Chuuya nearly chokes on his soup, half of it going down the wrong pipe. He coughs and tries to compose himself. Dazai just smiles sweetly.

“Chuuya’s right, we should all step up a bit and help out. He’s the one that planned this whole trip on top of keeping everything together,” Dazai says with so much genuinity dripping from his voice, it just sounds wrong.

“Right! Thank you Chuuya,” Atsushi says quickly with a small bow.

Chuuya waves him off.

“Wasn’t that big a deal. Don’t get all sappy. And Dazai’s the one that needs to step up,” he finishes his sentence with gritted teeth.

With that, Dazai stands, finishing off his breakfast with one big gulp. He then points at Akutagawa and Atsushi.

“Alrighty, so you two will be on clean up and pack up duty. I shall be by Chuuya’s side to dote on him and ensure he doesn’t lift a finger,” he announces.

All three of them use their limited energy to overlap their own scolding and complaints with that plan.

Eventually, they split up and start tackling their own tasks. Dazai does in fact make sure Chuuya doesn’t lift a finger. Or at least, doesn’t do more than he could handle. He sends Chuuya off on a quest to fill the car up with gas. Simple enough. And it’ll keep him feeling useful.

Dazai stares at their tent from every angle trying to mentally dissect it and figure out how Chuuya managed to get it up. After he assumes he’s got it all figured out, he crawls inside and shoves everything back into their bags. Chuuya probably won’t mind if they don’t end up in the same bags they started in.

Shoving the sleeping bags back into the teeny tiny storage bags seems like an impossible task. But Dazai’s not ready to give up yet. He lays on his back, holding either side of the tiny pouch and using one leg to shove the massive poof of sleeping bag inside. After wrestling with it for what feels like an eternity, he does it all over again with the second sleeping bag.

Deflating the air mattress is much easier. He just unplugs it and lays down, using his own body weight to push the air out. Once it’s flat, he folds it up and tucks it into its own bag.

So many bags…

Dazai hopes he never sees a bag again after this trip.

After taking everything from the tent back outside and into their collective pile by the picnic table, he takes on the task of deconstruction.

Having memorized each and every pole, peg, bend, flap, and zipper, Dazai manages to have it collapsed and organized in less than 5 minutes.

Atsushi and Akutagawa don’t have it as easy. They spend most of their time trying to figure out how to fold the tent properly. Their bag ends up barely zipping closed.

By the time Chuuya’s back from the nearest gas station, everything’s packed up and ready to be loaded.

The car is loaded up in no time, and soon enough, they’re on the road again. Chuuya insists on driving, but per everyone’s request, he downs a 5 energy shot. After whining and begging for about 10 straight minutes before they took off, Dazai was granted shotgun. He and Chuuya come to a compromise; no singing as long as he’s allowed to control the radio.

They stop before they reach the first hour to get lunch. Akutagawa purchases a new box of motion sickness tablets and informs Atsushi he’ll decapitate him if he doesn’t take them before they get going again. Atsushi reluctantly agrees after finding out they’re nondrowsy. The mystery of what happened to the Dramamine goes unsolved. Chuuya keeps his lips sealed for the sake of simplicity.

Both Akutagawa and Atsushi end up dozing off regardless, leaning against each other. Dazai gushes over the sight in the rear view mirror, turning to take a few pictures on his phone.

Isolated by consciousness, Chuuya turns the volume down enough for a conversation. Dazai immediately pouts.

“Hey, I’m in charge of the radio,” he states.

Chuuya tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

“Relax, I just wanna talk real quick,” Dazai crosses his arms but accepts it. Chuuya keeps his eyes on the road. Steady. “I just… wanna make sure we’re on the same page about some things.”

Dazai raises an eyebrow, double checking in the rear view mirror that the other two are still asleep.

“You want reassurance,” Dazai corrects.

Chuuya doesn’t argue that.

“I want you to tell me you’re serious about this,” he glances to the side for just a moment, then back ahead of him. “That this isn’t just some fling that got away from you.”

Dazai focuses his gaze on the moving road in front of them as well, his face falling neutral and staying there. He waits a moment before replying.

“I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you,” Dazai’s voice is soft, almost faraway.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I can’t promise you stability. You know that,” Dazai tenses just enough for Chuuya to notice. “But no, I don’t view any part of our relationship as fleeting. I’m serious about this. About you.”

Chuuya doesn’t say anything for a while. Thoughts swimming in his head and mixing with emotions. Dazai allows the silence, existing atop the hum of the road and the quiet sound of the radio.

Chuuya takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” is all he offers.

Dazai lets his eyes wander up to the clouds, then he smiles to himself.

“Remember when we had to share a bed for the first time?”

Chuuya snorts.

“God, yeah. You were so weird and annoying,” he laughs quietly. “You kept cuddlin up to me in your sleep.”

“You were warm!” Dazai defends. “I was subconsciously seeking out the nearest heat source. You weren’t any nicer to sleep next to, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you rolled and kicked and splayed out like a starfish.”

They both chuckle.

“Not to mention your drooling,” Dazai adds.

“Ah, you like it,” Chuuya insists.

“Why would I like your drool?”

“You like everything about me,” Chuuya grins.

Dazai rolls his eyes. They settle on Chuuya with a fond look.

“Except for your ugly hat.”

“Well I hate your outfits.”

“That’s because Chuuya has no sense of fashion.”

“You include bandages in your personal wardrobe.”

“Yes, I wear them quite well don’t you think?”

“You’d look more put together with a trash can on your head.”

“Can you two stop flirting and shut up?” Atsushi grumbles from the back seat, yawning halfway through the sentence.

Akutagawa blinks awake as well.

“Your odd affection is irritating.”

Both Dazai and Chuuya laugh loudly at their annoyance. Dazai bats his eyelashes.

“I’m so terribly sorry. Would you prefer I tell my sweet, darling lover how much I crave his soul and long for his lips on mine?” he leans toward Chuuya, declaring his affections dramatically.

“Oh don’t worry, baby, I’ll give ya much more than that for those lips,” Chuuya plays along.

“Hmm, so you’ll put my mouth to better use then?”

Akutagawa makes a gagging sound while Atsushi practically screams and begs them to stop. Chuuya and Dazai decide their hostages have had enough and drop the bit.

Dazai turns the radio volume back up, and the rest of the car ride is as functional as the four of them can manage.