Time skip to several months after the last chapter ended.
Dazai stares down at him as he sleeps, trying to memorize every single freckle on his face. He wants desperately to crawl back into bed with him but he can't. Chuuya's hair is spread across the pillow, his tiny nose scrunching just slightly as he dreams. It's so tempting.
I can't I can't I can't.
Dazai has imagined this moment for months, their last moment. He had contemplated whether he should leave while he was in the shower or while he was asleep or while he was at work. He had contemplated whether he'd leave a note or not. He had contemplated what Chuuya would do when he realizes, and it hadn't taken much thinking to recognize that Chuuya would come looking for him as soon as he realized his stuff was gone. This is why Dazai has a small, mostly harmless bomb in his duffle bag now. He'll place it in Chuuya's car which will slow the redhead's search down by at least a day.
It's not that he doesn't want to tell Chuuya where he's going, but if he did he might ask Dazai to stay, and Dazai would stay. Or if he didn't ask Dazai to stay, then when Mori would question him and Chuuya would have to lie. And Dazai doesn't want him to have to choose between him and Mori. That's the whole point. That's why Dazai can't bring his partner with him.
Dazai had contemplated whether he'd be able to do this at all. At first, he'd thought, yes I have to. But as the day, this day, had gotten closer and closer and he'd watched Chuuya closer and closer, trying to memorize everything, his resolve had weakened.
It had weakened the night they'd gone to see My Chemical Romance in concert and he'd had to hold Chuuya up on his shoulders so that the redhead could see.
It had weakened when Dazai had come home to find Chuuya had replaced all the dairy products in the kitchen with lactose-free options because Chuuya had noticed Dazai was allergic before Dazai even had.
It had weakened every time Dazai pushed Chuuya over a high ledge, seeing how fast he could activate Gravity (turns out really fast) and his face turned so red with anger you could barely distinguish his skin from his hair.
And it weakened every time Chuuya scrunched his nose or laughed or came home with another stupid hat or sent him an awful meme during a Port Mafia meeting and got them both in trouble for laughing.
And now, now, he's barely grasping at resolve and he thinks he might just lay back down, or throw up.
Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
He gulps. He's crying and Chuuya stirs. He knows he has to go now.
Against his heart's pleading, he takes several steps towards the bedroom door, opening it quietly. And when it's open, he just bolts. He doesn't even put on his shoes because if he pauses for even a moment he won't be able to leave.
The wind stings his damp face as he hurries for Chuuya's car. The sun hasn't even come up yet and he's thankful that no one else is on the sidewalk to see him this way.
The black Port Mafia SUV is easy to spot. They should really get some more discreet vehicles. Dazai crouches down beside it on the driver's side, digging through his duffle for the bomb.
As he's rigging it underneath the SUV, he's thinking of the stakeout mission they'd had in this car--when Chuuya had been too tired to drive home so they'd slept together in the backseat--and that was forever ago but he can still feel the memory.
And now he can barely see what he's doing through the stream flooding from his eyes and the pavement of the street is rough against his bare feet and he thinks he might throw up.
Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
I could just go back. I could just stay with the Port Mafia.
His body is shaking with the desire to run back to their apartment and his mind is spinning with conflict.
I can't stay with Mori. I can't leave Chuuya. I can't stay with Mori.
Falling to his knees he fumbles with the bomb, his usually dexterous fingers shaking uncontrollably.
"Damn it!" he punches the pavement causing streaks of red to tarnish his bandages but he doesn't feel it. All he can feel is his heart breaking, as it had been doing slowly for months now. It was aching and hollow and--
"Damn it damn it damn it!"
"What are you doing!?"
........
Dazai falls backward at the voice, his heart jackhammering painfully against his ribs.
Shit.
Chuuya is staring down at him with wild blue eyes. His hair is tousled with sleep and he's still wearing his pajamas.
"I--" Dazai starts to come up with a lie, but a horrible-sounding sob escapes his throat instead.
"Dazai...you're crying? Why are you crying?"
Chuuya kneels down now. "And why are you barefoot?"
His blue eyes scan Dazai frantically, then land on the thing in his hands.
"Is that a bomb? Are you bombing my car!?"
Chuuya yanks the bomb out of Dazai's hands.
Dazai's immediate reaction is to stop crying, but he can't and he can't hide his face because Chuuya's eyes are fixing him in place.
His second reaction is to lie. Dazai scrambles within his mind, desperately searching for an excuse, a lie any lie, because he has to leave, he has to...
It's dark, but Dazai can see Chuuya's brows furrow tighter and tighter the longer he looks from Dazai to the bomb and then back to Dazai.
Dazai is still sobbing, and he can't for the life of him come up with a single good lie. All he can do is gasp for air when the sobbing and the shaking momentarily cease.
After several excruciating minutes of trying to get his sobbing under control while Chuuya processes, the redhead finally says,
"You're leaving aren't you?"
And Dazai weirdly loves the fact Chuuya is smart enough to figure that out with no more context than a small bomb and Dazai crying in the road at four in the morning.
Dazai nods, his lip quivering. "I--"
"I get it, you know. Mori...I get it," Chuuya says, placing the bomb down and moving to sit cross-legged on the ground in front of Dazai.
"You do?" Dazai asks.
"Yeah but...do you..you asked," Chuuya sputters. "Do you not want me to come with you anymore?"
Dazai almost wants to laugh. "Are you serious? Of course I do! But you love the Port Mafia and you're doing so well as an executive I can't take those from you. I shouldn't have ever asked you to leave with me, Chuuya. I'm--I'm so sorry," Dazai's voice breaks.
Chuuya looks shocked. "Yeah, I love the Port Mafia but I..I uhm.. I care about you...too." He looks a little pained as he says it, but he says it.
A sharp, warm pain spreads through Dazai's chest.
"You shouldn't leave it. I won't let you, not for me. I'm not worth it."
To Dazai's surprise, Chuuya rolls his eyes at that.
"GOD, you're such a drama queen. You are worth it, for the record, but just because you're leaving the Port Mafia doesn't mean you're falling off the face of the earth. I bet you even plan on staying in the city, so."
"So?" Dazai sniffles.
"So, we can still be...whatever it is we are. Obviously I won't be sharing anything about work with you, and it'll be a little annoying having to sneak around to meet you but..."
"Mori will question you."
"He will."
"You'll get caught. You'll get in trouble, Chuuya. He'll torture it out of you."
"You underestimate me, as usual."
Both boys stare at each other, wondering if what Chuuya said is true, if this can actually work. Dazai is imagining, feeling, a new reality where he doesn't have to be without his partner but he's also imagining Mori hurting Chuuya because of him, and again he thinks he might throw up, for real this time.
Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
"No, Chuuya," Dazai says as firmly as he can while crying. "I won't allow you to get hurt because of me."
The sentence is barely out of his mouth before Dazai feels the sharp sting spread across his face and hears the snap of Chuuya's palm meeting his cheek.
"Ouch Chuuya, what the fu--"
"You don't get to make decisions for me Dazai, you bastard. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions and protecting myself. So, respectfully, shut the hell up."
Dazai blinks in shock, clutching his cheek. Part of him wants to argue but Chuuya's eyes are storming with intent meaning it probably wouldn't be effective. And he has a point. And a completely overwhelming swell of relief is washing over him, causing the sobbing to start again because...maybe he won't have to be without Chuuya.
Chuuya reaches out, wiping away some of the tears with his thumb, tossing the bomb up and down in his other hand like a ball.
"I get why you didn't tell me...but really? Blowing my car up? That's a bit much...Drama queen."
Chuuya's lips draw into a smirk, and Dazai's sobbing turns into a sort of laugh-sob combo. He feels like the entire world is new, the aching in his chest turning from sorrow to something very different.
Chuuya laughs too. He leans forward and Dazai thinks he might kiss him, but Chuuya veers to the side. Easily, he attaches the bomb to the belly of the SUV and says. "But, your plans usually work out. So, maybe this will deter Mori's suspicions a bit."
Dazai smiles, sniffling away the rest of his tears. "Well, this is sure to be interesting."
"Yeah," Chuuya agrees. And now he does kiss him. Dazai is only faintly aware that the sun is coming up and that a car just honked at them and that it's actually freezing outside and he really needs shoes, because kissing Chuuya is louder than all of it.