Chapter Text
Kouyou sat at her desk, writing in an elegant hand. She frowned slightly in distaste, and made a mental note to bring some higher quality writing supplies over from Ozaki House. While she didn’t often do paperwork out of her office here at headquarters, there was no reason that it should have to be unpleasant on the occasions when she did.
There was a knock at her door, and she looked up.
“Enter,” she called, watching the door carefully.
It opened, and Kouyou adjusted her eyeline down several inches as Chuuya entered her office, grinning. She noted with approval that he purposely left the door wide open, so that there would be no room for wagging tongues to claim they were holding secret conversations.
“Long time, no see,” he said as he walked over to her desk, hands in his pockets.
“Chuuya,” Kouyou said, pleased. She lowered her pen and slipped all her paperwork into the top drawer of her desk, and then rose to go greet him with a warm hug. As she withdrew, she held him at arm’s length as she examined him. “I’m still not used to seeing you without your hat,” she said a little wistfully. “But I see you’re still wearing your choker.”
Chuuya’s hand rose to his throat. “Yeah,” he said with a soft smile. He dropped his hand. “You’re looking as lovely and deadly as ever, Ane-san,” he said. “I hope things have calmed down and that you’re not being stretched too thin.”
“I’m doing well, Chuuya,” she said, and changed the subject. “Mori mentioned that he planned to retain you to give combat training to some of our elite fighters. I assume, based on your clothing, that’s why you’re here?” She raised an eyebrow at the workout gear he was wearing.
“Yes,” he said, his respect for his senpai causing him to keep his language proper. “At least, that’s why I’m here at headquarters,” he amended. “I’m here here, in your office, because I wanted to pay my respects, and I also wanted to get your opinion on something.”
“Oh?” she inquired, raising that same eyebrow again. “Let us have a seat, then,” she said, gesturing to a small table surrounded by four delicate chairs.
As they took their seats, both sitting with excellent posture, Chuuya laced his hands together on his lap to make it more difficult for him to forget decorum and slouch or put an elbow on the table.
“So we’re going to be moving into our new place this week,” he said. “And I want to have a housewarming party, or have our friends over for dinner, or however you want to put it. But we’ve got a pretty wide variety of friends, with very different ideas of what makes an enjoyable evening.”
Kouyou nodded her understanding.
“I know how I would have wanted to handle it a few months ago,” Chuuya said carefully. “I’d have liked to have you over for a quiet dinner, just on your own. Or maybe you and Hirotsu. And then, on a different night, we’d have thrown… a more rowdy party, with the guys and Gin, and maybe we’d have had Dazai’s buddies from the Armed Detective Agency with them, since it’s a big place and there are several rooms, or maybe we’d have had them a different night. And plus I’d have needed to figure out which group to invite Akutagawa to join. And now Higuchi,” he said, looking up at her a little sideways through his lashes.
“Oh, so you are aware of that?” she asked. Her demeanor was still perfectly polite, but Chuuya knew her well enough that he had seen her grow wary over the course of his speech.
“Heard it from Atsushi,” he said, and she relaxed a tiny bit, but not much.
Chuuya soldiered on. “But, under the circumstances, I’m not sure that’s the best way to handle it. I’m wondering whether it would be better to have one dinner party for all the Port Mafia folks, and a completely separate one for the Armed Detective Agency folks.” He worded the next point carefully. “I kind of feel like the inter-agency truce is more a business thing at this point, and establishing friendly relations isn’t a priority. And I know you and Hirotsu, and maybe Akutagawa and Higuchi, probably aren’t interested in the same sort of stuff as Inoue and Gin and Tanaka and Sato, but like I said, it’s a big place, and we could all have a nice formal dinner together in the dining room, and maybe after dinner the living room is the rowdy room and the, study I guess you’d call it, is the quiet conversation room, and Dazai and I can rotate around to keep both groups company.”
Kouyou looked at him with pride and affection. He’s intelligent enough to know that mingling with the Agency would be frowned upon, and that a private dinner with me would be looked upon with suspicion, as would one with just his other close friends, and he’s proposed a situation where most of the leadership will be present together and can therefore provide oversight of one another. And he’s communicated it in a most delicate and subtle way.
“That does sound lovely,” she said approvingly. “I think that we would all enjoy coming together to wish you well in your new home en masse.”
Chuuya smiled, relieved. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “You’re all very important to me, and I didn’t want to risk offending anyone or hurting their feelings.”
“Not at all,” Kouyou assured him. “I look forward to receiving my formal invitation,” she said pointedly, and Chuuya bowed his head.
“I’ll bring it by myself,” he said. He checked his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the training room now. We’ll be starting in about ten minutes.”
The two of them rose from their seats.
“And is Dazai here as well, to review the security procedures?” Kouyou inquired as she escorted him to the door of her office.
Chuuya turned, startled, to look at her. “No, I hadn’t heard anything about that,” he said.
Mori must have decided the risks outweighed the potential reward, she thought. And he is correct. “Well, neither have I,” she lied smoothly. “I just thought it possible that he would decide to hire you as a matched set, and that would have been the most valuable use of Dazai’s time. But it was inappropriate of me to indulge in speculation like that.”
“Oh, we all get caught up in our own imaginations from time to time,” Chuuya said, offering her cover. He turned at the door and gave her that charming one-sided smile again. “I’ll be back to drop off the invitations in a day or so,” he said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
“And you as well, Chuuya,” Kouyou said. She closed the door behind him and returned to her desk, taking the papers back out of her drawer and resuming her work.
Chuuya closed the door of the penthouse and removed his shoes. He looked over at his approaching husband and grinned. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself,” Dazai said, bending his head to warmly kiss his husband. “How’d the training go?”
“Went well,” Chuuya said as they migrated toward the kitchen. “Since it was the elite guys and not the noobs, there weren’t any surprises. I already knew what they can do.”
“Any of them forget you’re not with the Port Mafia any more?” Dazai asked with a dark smile.
“Yeah, actually,” Chuuya chuckled. “There’s a certain amount of savvy and tactics you have to have to be an elite fighter, but a good memory for the org hierarchy isn’t critical.” He scanned the kitchen and verified Dazai hadn’t started cooking yet.
Chuuya opened the refrigerator and catalogued the contents. “You got any requests tonight?” he asked.
A pair of hands alighted gently upon his hips, and he could feel the smirk from behind him. “For dinner,” he said, a note of amused exasperation in his voice, but he still closed the refrigerator door and turned to kiss Dazai again.
When they separated once more, Dazai picked up the conversation. “I didn’t think we really had options at this point,” he said. “I mean, we haven’t restocked the fridge this week since we’re trying to get it as empty as possible in time for the move.”
“We don’t,” Chuuya admitted. “But I would get it if you’re not in the mood for what we’ve got left. Hell, I’m not in the mood for what we’ve got left.”
Dazai made a vague noise of agreement and slipped around Chuuya to check the refrigerator himself. Closing the door, he straightened and said, “I’m not in the mood for the fish, I’ll admit, and I wouldn’t be excited about omurice, but I could eat pancakes, if you don’t mind me making breakfast for dinner. And then we still get credit for being good and using up some of the stuff in the fridge instead of ordering takeout.”
Chuuya smiled, genuinely pleased. “Yeah, that works for me,” he said. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Dazai said, reaching for a drawer to take out an apron.
“Great,” Chuuya said. “Anything you want me to do? Make coffee or tea, or get you something stronger?”
“You pick,” Dazai said, diving back into the refrigerator for ingredients.
Chuuya turned to the other end of the counter and decided to make tea, but not until the food was nearly ready. “So did you get to have any fun today?” he asked.
“Mm, little bit,” Dazai said as he separated the eggs. “The job for the club owner is going to be really straightforward, and I’ve put all the pieces in place. But I met with Shugo again today to verify everything’s on schedule for the new penthouse’s security, and they’ve got early access to some cutting-edge new tech that we’re going to use for the elevator, and it gave me an idea and we came up with a way to use a couple of things that don’t normally go together to deal with my concerns about the fire stairs.” He left the egg whites in the freezer and then began assembling the other ingredients.
“Oh, good,” Chuuya said alertly. “I gotta admit, I wasn’t happy about the fire stairs either.” He wandered back over and leaned on the counter near the stove so that he could watch Dazai’s face. “So security’s on track, then. How about the general contractor? Did you get the punch list to him?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I didn’t forget,” Dazai said patiently as he whisked the wet ingredients. “Everything’s on track, and the moving crew will definitely be fine for Wednesday. And honestly, there’s a good chance that we can get a head start tomorrow.”
“Great,” Chuuya said eagerly, hopping up to sit on the edge of the counter, legs dangling. “So Thursday we can unpack and do grocery shopping, so we can be ready for the Agency party Friday and the Port Mafia one Saturday.”
Dazai looked up from folding the dry ingredients into the batter. In a meaningful voice, he said, “And at some point in there, we have to go fulfill my promise.”
Chuuya looked even happier, but he said, “Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Dazai echoed, surprised. “I thought you’d be ready on Thursday, or even Wednesday.”
“Yeah,” Chuuya said, “but- we’ve got the move itself, and the housewarming parties, and I don’t want it to get overwhelmed or scared. I want it to have time to get used to the new place, and us, before it has to deal with parties.” He lowered his head a little and mumbled, “And I don’t want to be distracted from it right away. I want us to be able to spend quality time with it, uninterrupted.”
“All right, then,” Dazai said, shaking his head affectionately. “Do you want to go ahead and at least look, in the meantime?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” scoffed Chuuya. “You can’t possibly imagine that I could go to a rescue at this point and not come home with a cat. Hell, I couldn’t have done it within the last few weeks. I’d have totally jumped the gun.”
“‘Know thyself’,” Dazai quoted, setting the bowl aside and retrieving the egg whites to start the meringue. He glanced up sideways at Chuuya, a little smile playing at his lips. “And yes, I am well aware that you couldn’t have resisted. It would have been adorable, and I use the word advisedly.”
Chuuya stretched out a foot and shoved lightly at Dazai’s thigh, and Dazai chuckled and continued beating the meringue.
“All right, then,” Dazai said, “so tomorrow we go check the punch list and sign off on everything, and do a little pre-packing on our own and deal with the food in the fridge, and Wednesday we wake up at a god-awful hour and strip the bed and wait for the movers-”
Chuuya interrupted. “Don’t forget tomorrow we need to get our Christmas stuff out of storage, too.”
Dazai nodded and began folding the meringue into the batter. “Wednesday is moving day, and we try to get as much stuff settled and unpacked as possible while still having a celebratory dinner and breaking in the new dining table and master bath and bedroom,” and he smirked as Chuuya shoved him with his foot again, embarrassed. “Then Thursday we try to finish unpacking and decorating and getting all your wine into the chiller, and Friday we do grocery shopping and have party number 1, and Saturday we’re exhausted and have party number 2, and Sunday we’re even more exhausted and we go play with cats and bring one home and spend the rest of the day following it around and trying to outdo each other to become its favorite.”
Chuuya sighed. “It’ll probably like you best,” he said, resigned. “Oh, and tonight I need to handwrite all the invitations, and I have to deliver them tomorrow in person.”
“Invitations?” Dazai’s eyebrow rose skeptically, spooning small dollops of batter into the skillet. “Can’t we just text everyone?”
“Kouyou would have my head,” Chuuya snorted. He hopped off the counter and started making the tea, then headed back to the refrigerator. Poking his head inside, he came out with a container of strawberries and one of blueberries. “Hey, cool, we can finish off these, too.”
Dazai looked over his shoulder. “Oh, good idea,” he said.