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Entry tags:
a cushion of clouds
Title: a cushion of clouds
Fandom: Bungou to Alchemist
Character(s): Dazai, Chuuya
Pairing(s): Chuuya/Dazai
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,000
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Chuuya takes a blow in battle for Dazai.
Notes: I only ship this in BunAru.
Dazai can feel himself breaking apart.
It’s far from a painless, magnificent death. Every part of his body hurts. The damage he’s taken has disrupted the magic holding him together, and if he takes much more he’ll surely dissolve into nothing but the words he’s made of.
“I guess I’ll just have to die,” he mutters, barely able to lift his scythe. He can see another attack coming his way from a Taint, but there’s no way he can dodge in time-
“Son of a bitch--!”
-except it doesn’t connect. Dazai stares at the back of the smaller body that protected him from that Taint’s blow: it’s unexpected enough that it takes a moment for him to process what happened.
“...Chuuya?” he says.
Chuuya turns to glare at him, gripping the spot on his stomach where the Taint hit him. It’s clearly a deep wound. “Hurry up and help finish these bastards so we can retreat,” he say, through gritted teeth.
Dazai swallows. “Right, right-”
They manage to wipe out the Taints in front of them before withdrawing from the book. The Librarian takes one look at the two of them and prescribes them both bed rest and ink before either of them do anything else.
Ink tastes about as nasty as you’d expect it to, even when it’s the only thing that will speed up your recovery. Dazai downs as much as he can without gagging and feels his injuries start to heal. In the bed across from him, Chuuya does the same, making a disgusted face afterwards.
Dazai wipes his mouth - no one looks cool with ink stains on their lips - and asks, “Chuuya, why did you protect me back there in the book delve?”
Chuuya tilts his head at him. “The hell kind of stupid question is that?” he asks, though there’s no fire behind his words. “If you’d gotten beaten up any more you’d die again. I wasn’t as hurt as you were, so I took the hit for you. It’s just common sense.”
When Chuuya puts it that way, it seems to make a certain kind of sense, but… “I thought you hated me?” Dazai says, before he can think better of it.
“Haaa?” Now Chuuya gapes. “Obviously I don’t hate you! I don’t go drinking with people I hate.”
With how often Chuuya gets into drunken fights with whoever he drags out drinking with him, Dazai thinks he should be forgiven for assuming otherwise.
“We’re friends,” Chuuya says. “I’d be pissed if somebody besides me picked on you, and if you died again I’d - be more pissed at you, asshole.” It doesn’t sound like that’s what Chuuya initially meant to say.
Dazai’s not sure how to answer Chuuya, so he resorts to his usual fallback of puffing himself up. “You don’t have to worry, since I won’t settle for an ugly a death like that. You’ll be blessed with my magnificence until the very end.”
Chuuya picks himself off his bed and crosses over to Dazai’s, and Dazai can’t help tensing up, but all Chuuya does is fluff up Dazai’s hair. “You’d better not break down on me, peach blossom bastard. Or I’ll summon you again just to kick your ass.”
Dazai’s sure that Chuuya would really do it, so he doesn’t protest Chuuya messing with his hair even if it’ll take ages to get it to look perfect again. He silently endures the treatment for a few moments, before saying, “Hey… Chuuya?”
Chuuya pauses. “Yeah?”
Dazai swallows. “I actually, kind of, might admire you a little?”
Chuuya gives him a smile. It’s not a smug one, but one that’s genuinely happy, which is rare in itself, but Dazai’s heart sinks anyway when he says, “As a poet and fellow writer, right?”
“Y-yeah, of course. Something like that!” That much is technically true, and he’s said such things before - mostly to other people after Chuuya’s death - but it’s not what he meant.
“Well, I guess you’re not a half bad novelist, either.” Chuuya leans into Dazai’s side, and Dazai feels his face heat up at the contact.
They stay like that even after their wounds have finished healing, until the Librarian comes by and personally kicks them out to make space for other writers to treat their injuries. Dazai finds himself disappointed to have to move, and Chuuya curses under his breath but pulls away without much fuss.
They’re halfway down the hallway to return to their rooms when Chuuya suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Oi, peach bloss- Dazai.” Chuuya using his actual name for once gets Dazai to pause and look back at him curiously. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“That depends on what it is…?” Dazai still doesn’t want to go drinking with him, even if they are officially friends now. Drunken Chuuya is a menace to everyone around him.
Chuuya rolls his eyes at Dazai’s obvious reluctance. “Just lean down for a sec.”
Dazai has about a foot of height over the tiny, tiny Chuuya. He bends enough that they’re eye-to-eye, and somehow still manages to be surprised when Chuuya leans in to kiss him.
It’s a soft, chaste kiss, appropriate for their first one together. It doesn’t last more than a few seconds before Chuuya pulls away, but during that time Dazai’s heart races and he wonders if he’ll die of shock. He doesn’t, (un)fortunately.
Chuuya gives him a grin. “I knew what you meant back there,” he says. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“If you knew what I meant then why did you - you’re bullying me again, aren’t you?” Dazai asks, trying not to whine as he straightens up.
“I like to think of it as ‘teasing’,” says Chuuya. “But sure, close enough.”
“You’re the worst,” says Dazai, “and I take back everything nice I’ve ever said about you. You’re not even a good poet.”
Chuuya smirks, clearly unbothered by the insult. “So does that mean you don’t want to kiss me again?”
“...I didn’t say that.”
Fandom: Bungou to Alchemist
Character(s): Dazai, Chuuya
Pairing(s): Chuuya/Dazai
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,000
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Chuuya takes a blow in battle for Dazai.
Notes: I only ship this in BunAru.
Dazai can feel himself breaking apart.
It’s far from a painless, magnificent death. Every part of his body hurts. The damage he’s taken has disrupted the magic holding him together, and if he takes much more he’ll surely dissolve into nothing but the words he’s made of.
“I guess I’ll just have to die,” he mutters, barely able to lift his scythe. He can see another attack coming his way from a Taint, but there’s no way he can dodge in time-
“Son of a bitch--!”
-except it doesn’t connect. Dazai stares at the back of the smaller body that protected him from that Taint’s blow: it’s unexpected enough that it takes a moment for him to process what happened.
“...Chuuya?” he says.
Chuuya turns to glare at him, gripping the spot on his stomach where the Taint hit him. It’s clearly a deep wound. “Hurry up and help finish these bastards so we can retreat,” he say, through gritted teeth.
Dazai swallows. “Right, right-”
They manage to wipe out the Taints in front of them before withdrawing from the book. The Librarian takes one look at the two of them and prescribes them both bed rest and ink before either of them do anything else.
Ink tastes about as nasty as you’d expect it to, even when it’s the only thing that will speed up your recovery. Dazai downs as much as he can without gagging and feels his injuries start to heal. In the bed across from him, Chuuya does the same, making a disgusted face afterwards.
Dazai wipes his mouth - no one looks cool with ink stains on their lips - and asks, “Chuuya, why did you protect me back there in the book delve?”
Chuuya tilts his head at him. “The hell kind of stupid question is that?” he asks, though there’s no fire behind his words. “If you’d gotten beaten up any more you’d die again. I wasn’t as hurt as you were, so I took the hit for you. It’s just common sense.”
When Chuuya puts it that way, it seems to make a certain kind of sense, but… “I thought you hated me?” Dazai says, before he can think better of it.
“Haaa?” Now Chuuya gapes. “Obviously I don’t hate you! I don’t go drinking with people I hate.”
With how often Chuuya gets into drunken fights with whoever he drags out drinking with him, Dazai thinks he should be forgiven for assuming otherwise.
“We’re friends,” Chuuya says. “I’d be pissed if somebody besides me picked on you, and if you died again I’d - be more pissed at you, asshole.” It doesn’t sound like that’s what Chuuya initially meant to say.
Dazai’s not sure how to answer Chuuya, so he resorts to his usual fallback of puffing himself up. “You don’t have to worry, since I won’t settle for an ugly a death like that. You’ll be blessed with my magnificence until the very end.”
Chuuya picks himself off his bed and crosses over to Dazai’s, and Dazai can’t help tensing up, but all Chuuya does is fluff up Dazai’s hair. “You’d better not break down on me, peach blossom bastard. Or I’ll summon you again just to kick your ass.”
Dazai’s sure that Chuuya would really do it, so he doesn’t protest Chuuya messing with his hair even if it’ll take ages to get it to look perfect again. He silently endures the treatment for a few moments, before saying, “Hey… Chuuya?”
Chuuya pauses. “Yeah?”
Dazai swallows. “I actually, kind of, might admire you a little?”
Chuuya gives him a smile. It’s not a smug one, but one that’s genuinely happy, which is rare in itself, but Dazai’s heart sinks anyway when he says, “As a poet and fellow writer, right?”
“Y-yeah, of course. Something like that!” That much is technically true, and he’s said such things before - mostly to other people after Chuuya’s death - but it’s not what he meant.
“Well, I guess you’re not a half bad novelist, either.” Chuuya leans into Dazai’s side, and Dazai feels his face heat up at the contact.
They stay like that even after their wounds have finished healing, until the Librarian comes by and personally kicks them out to make space for other writers to treat their injuries. Dazai finds himself disappointed to have to move, and Chuuya curses under his breath but pulls away without much fuss.
They’re halfway down the hallway to return to their rooms when Chuuya suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Oi, peach bloss- Dazai.” Chuuya using his actual name for once gets Dazai to pause and look back at him curiously. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“That depends on what it is…?” Dazai still doesn’t want to go drinking with him, even if they are officially friends now. Drunken Chuuya is a menace to everyone around him.
Chuuya rolls his eyes at Dazai’s obvious reluctance. “Just lean down for a sec.”
Dazai has about a foot of height over the tiny, tiny Chuuya. He bends enough that they’re eye-to-eye, and somehow still manages to be surprised when Chuuya leans in to kiss him.
It’s a soft, chaste kiss, appropriate for their first one together. It doesn’t last more than a few seconds before Chuuya pulls away, but during that time Dazai’s heart races and he wonders if he’ll die of shock. He doesn’t, (un)fortunately.
Chuuya gives him a grin. “I knew what you meant back there,” he says. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“If you knew what I meant then why did you - you’re bullying me again, aren’t you?” Dazai asks, trying not to whine as he straightens up.
“I like to think of it as ‘teasing’,” says Chuuya. “But sure, close enough.”
“You’re the worst,” says Dazai, “and I take back everything nice I’ve ever said about you. You’re not even a good poet.”
Chuuya smirks, clearly unbothered by the insult. “So does that mean you don’t want to kiss me again?”
“...I didn’t say that.”