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Entry tags:
champagne, cocaine, gasoline CH3: don't think I'll ever get enough
Title: champagne, cocaine, gasoline CH3: don't think I'll ever get enough
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya
Pairing(s): Chuuya/Atsushi
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,150
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Atsushi asks Chuuya on a date.
Notes: I think it's about time for me to admit that this is a series. This chapter was supposed to be NSFW but didn't turn out that way - next one will be, though. Chuuya's date outfit is from the authors playing poker picture.
That’s how it is for a while. Chuuya and Atsushi meet for some reason while in the presence of other people and pretend that everything is totally normal. Agency members who tease get punched; Mafia members know better than to tease, but Akutagawa gives Chuuya a weird look that Atsushi doesn’t want to comment on.
Eventually, things have to change.
It happens unceremoniously: Dazai writes something down on a slip of paper and deposits it on Atsushi’s desk.
Atsushi unfolds the paper - it looks like someone’s phone number. “What’s this?” he asks.
“Chuuya’s number,” Dazai says.
Atsushi turns bright red. “I - he - there’s nothing going on there!”
“Mhm, of course~” says Dazai, in the tone of voice where he’s not even pretending to pretend to humor someone. “Your taste in men is objectively terrible, Atsushi-kun, but I’ll still support you.”
“I was drunk…” Atsushi says, weakly.
“You’ve been drunk every mission where we’ve met him since and you keep giving him bedroom eyes?” Dazai asks, faux-innocently. “You should teach me how to sneak alcohol into the office and not get lectured by Kunikida-kun!”
Atsushi groans and doesn’t answer. He does, however, keep the slip of paper, just in case.
He considers the benefits of getting rid of it versus dialing the number for a week before finally picking up his phone. It’s just a meeting, he tells himself as he pushes the last number. It doesn’t mean anything has to happen.
“Hello?” Chuuya’s voice.
“H-hello, it’s… Nakajima Atsushi, from the Agency.” Atsushi almost cringes - he probably shouldn’t have reminded Chuuya what sides they’re on.
There’s a moment of silence, before Chuuya says, “I’d ask where you got this number from but I already know. So? What do you want?”
Atsushi swallows, and says all in a rush, “Do you want to meet somewhere sometime?”
“...Like a date.” Chuuya’s voice is hard for him to read without being able to see his face.
“I - err - maybe?” Atsushi feels like sinking into his chair, into the earth never to be seen again. Maybe he can pretend he misdialed-
“Sure,” Chuuya says. “You want to go out for dinner tomorrow?”
-or not. Atsushi squeaks before finding words again. “Th-that sounds great! I’m free whenever!”
“Alright,” Chuuya replies, sounding more pleased now. “Pierre Gagnaire, six o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t! See you tomorrow!”
It’s only after Atsushi hangs up that he remembers that French restaurants are both really nice and really expensive. That one in particular. How much do mafia executives make…?
It doesn’t matter. After some consultation the next day from Naomi about what in his closet is his best date outfit, followed by her declaration that nothing he has is good enough and being dragged shopping with her, he’s ready - or as ready as he’ll ever be, anyway.
He’s early, there before Chuuya. It’s uncomfortable. At least he’s used to the tie, but paired with a vest and with better-fitting clothes, he feels like a pretender.
And then Chuuya shows up and he feels underdressed at the same time, because wow, Chuuya is handsome in a suit. He carries himself with so much more confidence than Atsushi ever does, and Atsushi’s gaze is drawn to the smile on his face, and then to the top of his head - no hat.
He has really pretty hair. Atsushi immediately looks down at his face again, but that’s pretty too. He can’t win.
“Sorry, if I’d known we were wearing suits, I…”
Chuuya shakes his head. “You look great,” he says, and Atsushi can feel himself blush just from those three words. “Come on.”
It doesn’t terribly surprise Atsushi that Chuuya can pronounce everything on the menu. Atsushi’s English isn’t even that great, let alone his French. He asks Chuuya for help picking out his dinner choices, and Chuuya doesn’t seem to mind.
“I was a little worried you’d show up with an armed guard.” It’s Atsushi’s attempt at a joke after their food’s been ordered.
Chuuya snorts. “If you’d been setting a trap, I would’ve known. Anyway, you wouldn’t have picked a fight at a public restaurant.”
“That’s true, but…” That wasn’t what he meant. If it was just Atsushi versus a squad of mafia members plus Chuuya, he wouldn’t have made it out unscathed, at least not easily.
Chuuya reads his expression. “We’re pretty underhanded,” he says, not sounding too ashamed of that, “but I wouldn’t attack someone trying to date me. That’s low even for me.”
“...I’m really glad you didn’t.”
They talk, over delicious and way too expensive food. Not about work, but about normal things. Which sports teams they watch (mostly the local baseball team, and they both lament the poor season they’ve had). Whether Atsushi likes music (he does, and shares a number of favorite jazz musicians with Chuuya). What Chuuya’s favorite animal is.
“It’s dogs,” he says, before adding with a wink, “but lately I’m pretty fond of tigers.”
Atsushi nearly chokes on a piece of bread.
That’s the closest anyone comes to death the whole evening, although Atsushi feels like he might have a heart attack when he sees the bill. Chuuya doesn’t even ask before putting down his credit card.
“Shouldn’t I at least pay for my half?” Atsushi asks, weakly. He’s trying to figure out exactly how much of his paycheck this one dinner is. “It’s a lot of money and I asked you out first…”
“I get paid more than you do,” Chuuya says, “and I picked out the expensive place. Don’t worry about it.”
Atsushi’s not exactly motivated to protest too much. “I’ll pick up the bill next time,” he says, and then realizes what exactly he just assumed. “Err - I mean - if you want-”
“Next time would be great,” Chuuya replies, with a soft smile Atsushi doesn’t think he’s seen on him before.
Atsushi walks Chuuya home, “because my friends are weirdly accepting of this whole thing but I don’t think they’d like it if I took you back to Agency headquarters.” At the door to his apartment building, they stop, and both of them take a moment to think of what to say.
“I had a good time tonight,” Chuuya says. His expression is serious. “...But if anything happens with the Agency, I can’t just disobey orders because I like you.”
Atsushi’s head spins at ‘I like you’, but not so much that he doesn’t get what Chuuya’s saying. “I understand,” he says. “It’s the same way for me. ...But I really hope nothing happens for a while.”
Then, summoning all the courage he’s ever had, more than he needed to fight Akutagawa or any other enemy - he kisses Chuuya on the mouth.
It’s not a heavy kiss. It’s chaste, and brief before Atsushi pulls away. “I-I’ll be seeing you,” he says, and turns to go.
Before he leaves, he catches Chuuya smiling out of the corner of his eye.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya
Pairing(s): Chuuya/Atsushi
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,150
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Atsushi asks Chuuya on a date.
Notes: I think it's about time for me to admit that this is a series. This chapter was supposed to be NSFW but didn't turn out that way - next one will be, though. Chuuya's date outfit is from the authors playing poker picture.
That’s how it is for a while. Chuuya and Atsushi meet for some reason while in the presence of other people and pretend that everything is totally normal. Agency members who tease get punched; Mafia members know better than to tease, but Akutagawa gives Chuuya a weird look that Atsushi doesn’t want to comment on.
Eventually, things have to change.
It happens unceremoniously: Dazai writes something down on a slip of paper and deposits it on Atsushi’s desk.
Atsushi unfolds the paper - it looks like someone’s phone number. “What’s this?” he asks.
“Chuuya’s number,” Dazai says.
Atsushi turns bright red. “I - he - there’s nothing going on there!”
“Mhm, of course~” says Dazai, in the tone of voice where he’s not even pretending to pretend to humor someone. “Your taste in men is objectively terrible, Atsushi-kun, but I’ll still support you.”
“I was drunk…” Atsushi says, weakly.
“You’ve been drunk every mission where we’ve met him since and you keep giving him bedroom eyes?” Dazai asks, faux-innocently. “You should teach me how to sneak alcohol into the office and not get lectured by Kunikida-kun!”
Atsushi groans and doesn’t answer. He does, however, keep the slip of paper, just in case.
He considers the benefits of getting rid of it versus dialing the number for a week before finally picking up his phone. It’s just a meeting, he tells himself as he pushes the last number. It doesn’t mean anything has to happen.
“Hello?” Chuuya’s voice.
“H-hello, it’s… Nakajima Atsushi, from the Agency.” Atsushi almost cringes - he probably shouldn’t have reminded Chuuya what sides they’re on.
There’s a moment of silence, before Chuuya says, “I’d ask where you got this number from but I already know. So? What do you want?”
Atsushi swallows, and says all in a rush, “Do you want to meet somewhere sometime?”
“...Like a date.” Chuuya’s voice is hard for him to read without being able to see his face.
“I - err - maybe?” Atsushi feels like sinking into his chair, into the earth never to be seen again. Maybe he can pretend he misdialed-
“Sure,” Chuuya says. “You want to go out for dinner tomorrow?”
-or not. Atsushi squeaks before finding words again. “Th-that sounds great! I’m free whenever!”
“Alright,” Chuuya replies, sounding more pleased now. “Pierre Gagnaire, six o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t! See you tomorrow!”
It’s only after Atsushi hangs up that he remembers that French restaurants are both really nice and really expensive. That one in particular. How much do mafia executives make…?
It doesn’t matter. After some consultation the next day from Naomi about what in his closet is his best date outfit, followed by her declaration that nothing he has is good enough and being dragged shopping with her, he’s ready - or as ready as he’ll ever be, anyway.
He’s early, there before Chuuya. It’s uncomfortable. At least he’s used to the tie, but paired with a vest and with better-fitting clothes, he feels like a pretender.
And then Chuuya shows up and he feels underdressed at the same time, because wow, Chuuya is handsome in a suit. He carries himself with so much more confidence than Atsushi ever does, and Atsushi’s gaze is drawn to the smile on his face, and then to the top of his head - no hat.
He has really pretty hair. Atsushi immediately looks down at his face again, but that’s pretty too. He can’t win.
“Sorry, if I’d known we were wearing suits, I…”
Chuuya shakes his head. “You look great,” he says, and Atsushi can feel himself blush just from those three words. “Come on.”
It doesn’t terribly surprise Atsushi that Chuuya can pronounce everything on the menu. Atsushi’s English isn’t even that great, let alone his French. He asks Chuuya for help picking out his dinner choices, and Chuuya doesn’t seem to mind.
“I was a little worried you’d show up with an armed guard.” It’s Atsushi’s attempt at a joke after their food’s been ordered.
Chuuya snorts. “If you’d been setting a trap, I would’ve known. Anyway, you wouldn’t have picked a fight at a public restaurant.”
“That’s true, but…” That wasn’t what he meant. If it was just Atsushi versus a squad of mafia members plus Chuuya, he wouldn’t have made it out unscathed, at least not easily.
Chuuya reads his expression. “We’re pretty underhanded,” he says, not sounding too ashamed of that, “but I wouldn’t attack someone trying to date me. That’s low even for me.”
“...I’m really glad you didn’t.”
They talk, over delicious and way too expensive food. Not about work, but about normal things. Which sports teams they watch (mostly the local baseball team, and they both lament the poor season they’ve had). Whether Atsushi likes music (he does, and shares a number of favorite jazz musicians with Chuuya). What Chuuya’s favorite animal is.
“It’s dogs,” he says, before adding with a wink, “but lately I’m pretty fond of tigers.”
Atsushi nearly chokes on a piece of bread.
That’s the closest anyone comes to death the whole evening, although Atsushi feels like he might have a heart attack when he sees the bill. Chuuya doesn’t even ask before putting down his credit card.
“Shouldn’t I at least pay for my half?” Atsushi asks, weakly. He’s trying to figure out exactly how much of his paycheck this one dinner is. “It’s a lot of money and I asked you out first…”
“I get paid more than you do,” Chuuya says, “and I picked out the expensive place. Don’t worry about it.”
Atsushi’s not exactly motivated to protest too much. “I’ll pick up the bill next time,” he says, and then realizes what exactly he just assumed. “Err - I mean - if you want-”
“Next time would be great,” Chuuya replies, with a soft smile Atsushi doesn’t think he’s seen on him before.
Atsushi walks Chuuya home, “because my friends are weirdly accepting of this whole thing but I don’t think they’d like it if I took you back to Agency headquarters.” At the door to his apartment building, they stop, and both of them take a moment to think of what to say.
“I had a good time tonight,” Chuuya says. His expression is serious. “...But if anything happens with the Agency, I can’t just disobey orders because I like you.”
Atsushi’s head spins at ‘I like you’, but not so much that he doesn’t get what Chuuya’s saying. “I understand,” he says. “It’s the same way for me. ...But I really hope nothing happens for a while.”
Then, summoning all the courage he’s ever had, more than he needed to fight Akutagawa or any other enemy - he kisses Chuuya on the mouth.
It’s not a heavy kiss. It’s chaste, and brief before Atsushi pulls away. “I-I’ll be seeing you,” he says, and turns to go.
Before he leaves, he catches Chuuya smiling out of the corner of his eye.