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Assistant: Title: Ineffable Partners
        Author: Ch_ee_rios Ch_ee_rios 
        Chapter: 3/13 
        Summary: In·ef·fa·ble/inˈefəb(ə)l/adjective1.too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words:Ineffable PartnersDazai leaves the Port Mafia. He won't be leaving Chuuya.(This is the entire series condensed into a chapter fic. Please keep that in mind!)
        Contents: Chapter 3: interminable adoration
    

    

        
          
          
            In a lot of ways, defecting with Dazai had been the best choice Chuuya had made in a long time.In some ways, though, Chuuya grumbled to himself while bandaging the bite marks his man-child of a partner left on his hand because he didn't want to take medicine, it was kind of the absolute worst.(In all the best ways)
          
        

  

  
  
    
    
  St. Petersburg, Russia

  November 5th

  3:07 p.m.
In a lot of ways, defecting with Dazai had been the best choice Chuuya had made in a long time. After leaving the mafia in late July, they'd arrived in Russia with a flourish of interviews and secretly-taken online classes so that Chuuya wasn't totally inept when he started work.Mostly totally inept, he corrected, rubbing his thumbs through his gloves. Sewing was… not the easiest thing in the world. He'd gotten the hang of it, though…. eventually.(“It's the same f@ck@ng thing?!” Chuuya screeched, throwing his sewing kit across the room. Dazai, who'd stepped out of the bedroom to get coffee from the kitchenette, stopped a foot in front of where it landed, crashing into the wall almost hard enough to put a dent in the plaster.“Uh,” Dazai poked his toe at the kit curiously. “I take it that sewing is going well?”“Urgh!” Chuuya groaned, flopping back on the couch and kicking his laptop away from where it was running his class lessons. “Why the f@ck are back stitches and running stitches literally the same thing?! Backstitching just takes longer, that's it!”Dazai squinted at Chuuya. “So… why are you learning it?”Chuuya narrowed his eyes at his partner. “Because someone decided to make me a godsdamn fashion designer and I start next week and still don't know how to sew and I'm supposed to have beginning designs but I don't know what the f@ck kind of stitches go into a f@ck@ng hat and my thumb hurts because I keep stabbing it with the stupid f@ck@ng needle!”After a long moment, Dazai nodded along. “Okay…. do you want to watch a movie?”Instead of getting even more mad and throwing things, he didn't say. Chuuya still kind of heard it.“No, I wanna figure out how to sew,” he tugged on his own hair with a suffering groan. “Get me a few bandaids,” he added as an afterthought, realizing that both of his hands and part of his arms were covered in slightly bleeding, needle-poked scratches.Dazai pursed his lips, picked up the sewing kit, and put it in the tallest shelf of the top cupboard, also grabbing the neon bandaids he insisted on getting because he was a deceptively tall child. “Okay, I'm picking the movie since Chuuya’s taste is awful.”Chuuya balked at the move. Dazai knew he couldn't reach that shelf without a chair. “No, I'm not watching a movie with you. I'm busy, go watch it somewhere else.”But Dazai had already grabbed the remote and his throw blanket off of the back of the couch. “Nope! Chibi’s watching a movie with me,” he chirped annoyingly, dragging Chuuya to sit in between his legs and sitting on the couch. He wrapped his legs around Chuuya's waist so he couldn't move (well he could, but this was…. surprisingly comfortable).It was the weird mix of considerate and @ssh@l@-ish behavior that Chuuya associated with a non-mafioso Dazai that had been coming out more and more often. Still, even with his grumbles and pinching Dazai's arms, he reluctantly settled back into the encompassing hold and tuned halfway into the Disney movie running with a poor Russian voiceover on the television. While he relaxed back, Dazai grabbed his hands with a weird, awkwardly gentle-ish grip and started plastering on too many bandaids in varying obnoxiously bright colors. It was better than the stupid unicorn and Hello Kitty bandaids Dazai bought and used exclusively for himself, so Chuuya didn’t complain.Before he knew it, he was drifting off for a well needed nap with his head cushioned back against Dazai’s soft green cartoon sweater. He'd never admit it, but he did feel more refreshed and calm when he went back to sewing a few hours later, both hands covered in a neon rainbow of bandaids)It was strange, working a regular job since the only work experience he had with regular pay were the three- almost four- years he’d spent in the mafia (the Sheep might’ve counted as a job, but he didn’t like thinking about them too much). He'd quickly been promoted in the four months they spent in Russia and was officially the junior lead on the design of a hat collection for a brand he could barely pronounce. Russian was a hard language, so Dazai had to help him muddle through the documents that hadn't been translated for him in their stupidly nice hotel suite. Because of course Dazai knew Russian despite never going to the country or knowing anyone who spoke the language natively.Chuuya found that there were some hats he couldn't stand. Especially white ushankas. For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to like the fur hat design, even more when Dazai put one on his head in a boutique and turned to ask how he looked. Cute was the obvious answer, with that pretty little smile and his eyes closed, but Chuuya couldn't look at him in the hat without getting the urge to break something.But it was relaxing in a way the mafia could never hope to be. Dazai had been working through his grief little by little, but there was still an ounce of reservation over openly advertising his feelings about Oda's death to Chuuya, so he didn't know how well the grieving process was actually going. Dazai had been slowly sharing a little more with him, so they were getting better. In any case, Chuuya was surprised at how much he liked being a designer now that he'd gotten the hang of it.Still, as most things went for them, there was still something irredeemably awful about their situation.“F@ck this, f@ck Russia, f@ck Dazai,” Chuuya grumbled, shaking like a leaf as he trudged through the snowy streets a block away from their hotel.Russia got cold.Chuuya hated the cold.Even through four jackets, heavy boots, thick socks, and two scarves, Chuuya's teeth chattered loudly. The engine on his motorbike froze, because apparently that was a thing in below zero temperatures, and the hotel's valet had apparently been right to look at him like he was stupid the night before when he said to park his bike in the outside parking garage.So he was stuck walking to and from work without his ability because-“We can't attract attention, Chuuya,” his voice shook as he mocked Dazai, kicking away a little piled up bit of snow. “Abilities are a dead giveaway to the mafia, Chuuya.”Japan was cold, but in a manageable way where it didn't drop too far below 5° Celsius in the winter. Russia seemed to dip into the negatives every single night and Chuuya was not okay with it.He waved, hand shaking, to the hotel staff as he walked in and headed for the elevator. They'd stopped giving him odd looks months ago, and now hardly batted an eye at him and Dazai.Well, not exactly.Dazai would always get looks no matter where they were. Not necessarily because he looked foreign, though he did, but because his dumb mackerel was attractive no matter what country he stepped into. He met more than a few facets of almost every culture’s beauty standards.It ticked Chuuya off for some reason. Maybe because they looked stupid flirting with Dazai when they didn't know how sh@tty his personality was. Or because they came up to them in public when it was just him and Chuuya. They'd disrupted more than a few dinners and walks through the city than he could count- Chuuya didn't care that the moments they disturbed were with Dazai, obviously. He just happened to attract attention and ruin Chuuya's time.Yeah, that was probably it.Still, Chuuya couldn't really muster the will to let his annoyance at his thoughts out on his partner at the moment. As much as Chuuya hated the cold, he was still a healthy, strong person with a well-adjusted immune system.Dazai, on the other hand…“F@ck,” he snapped when he opened the door to their room. It was almost as cold as it was outside. He scanned the living room portion of their top-floor suite and landed on a lump of blankets curled pitifully on the couch. “Did you leave the window open again?!” Chuuya stomped to the far side of the room and flung aside the curtains, revealing that the window was indeed open and likely had been for a while. He slammed it closed and rushed back to the shifting pile of blankets, stripping off layers of coats and his gloves as he walked.Just as he approached, Dazai's fluffy head of hair popped out of the blankets. After blinking a few times at the light with a dazed squint, a frustrating smile curved his lips. “Hi, Chuuya~ how was my favorite dog’s day?”Even now, the fondly spoken ‘nickname’ was enough to set him off, but Chuuya couldn't focus on that because-Dazai’s voice was raspy again.
  Sh@t.
Chuuya ignored the hand that escaped the blankets to reach for him and brushed back Dazai's hair to touch his forehead. It was burning up. F@ck. “Did you get sick again?”In the past four months, Dazai had definitely been eating more regularly than he ever had in his life. It still wasn't enough to make him healthy enough to handle being in a foreign country, exposed to colder temperatures and unused to the different bacterial environment. Or so Chuuya had read on the internet when even he got a little two-day long cold when they first arrived. It was nothing like Dazai, who'd gotten pneumonia within a month of stepping in the country. The cold didn't help his condition in the slightest, so he’d been stuck inside except for when Chuuya dragged him out to walk around the city a few days before because he’d been healthy for a while- yeah, okay, this was his fault.Dazai leaned into the cold hand on his forehead with a relieved little sigh. “This is why I had the window open,” he murmured petulantly. “It's hot in here.”Chuuya rolled his eyes and pushed Dazai away by his forehead. The mackerel dramatically fell back with an exaggerated umph. “No it's not, dumbass. You're just sick and apparently trying to make it worse.”If they stuck it out until January, Dazai would be accustomed enough to not get sick every time he breathed outside of their hotel (an exaggeration, but that's what it felt like to Chuuya). However, Chuuya didn't want to go through an entire winter like this, trying to handle the below freezing temperatures and keep Dazai alive at the same time. He hoped his transfer request went through.“I'm not the one shaking like a dog,” Dazai huffed, wrangling a leg out of the pile of blankets to kick at Chuuya's leg a bit.“And I'm not the one who got sick for three weeks,” Chuuya snapped back, pulling out his phone to order soup from a nearby restaurant. “I'm getting food from Pahl-Hikali.”“Pkhali-Khinkali,” Dazai corrected from behind him. “And I'm not hungry.”“Don't care,” Chuuya tossed back just as a restaurant employee picked up.Pneumonia hit Dazai hard. Chuuya had gotten antibiotics within a week of him getting sick, but it still took a full two weeks for it to make a difference. He'd been warned by the doctor he'd paid off that Dazai's immune system would be more susceptible to other illnesses in the following months. Chuuya would never admit how worried he was when he stayed up through the night with his partner coughing with his raw throat, shivering and shaking and begging to be held with his clingy body language. He'd carried his mackerel to the bathroom every time he hinted at being nauseous enough to throw up and held his overgrown curls back while he did.After he finished ordering food, Chuuya headed to a cabinet and grabbed out the fever reducer above the sink. He poured the medicine into the little cup and took a second to pray for patience.“Hey, mackerel,” Chuuya murmured, trying for a soft and disarming tone as he settled into the cushion above Dazai's head and started running his fingers through curly brown locks, hiding the cup of medicine behind him.Pretty wine-brown eyes and sick-flushed cheeks stared up at him. Even while sick and feverish, it didn't even take him a second to realize what Chuuya was trying to do. “M’not taking it.”Chuuya's eye twitched, betraying the soft openness he'd been trying for. “Yes, you are.”“I don't want to,” Dazai rasped, partially just to be difficult. That actually relieved Chuuya a little bit. If Dazai was feeling well enough to be difficult, he probably wasn't sick enough that they needed a doctor just yet. This was manageable.“I don't care if you don't want to,” Chuuya said firmly. “You're going to.”Dazai tried to sit up, revealing the long sleeved blue sweater he was wearing with a cartoon cat on it, but he was slowed down enough by his little cough from the movement that Chuuya easily wrapped an arm around his upper body and pulled him to sit up against his chest. “No,” Dazai whined, shifting and squirming and acting like a child.“Open up,” Chuuya tapped his jaw, bringing the cup a little closer.“This is abuse! Someone help-!” Dazai tried to scream, aiming to alert hotel staff and cause a scene, but Chuuya slapped a hand over his mouth.“Shut the f@ck up and just take it!” He tried prying Dazai's mouth open.Dazai bit down on his hand- not as hard as he could, but enough to kind of hurt. Chuuya snatched his hand away with a yelp.“Dazai what the f@ck?!”“I don't want it!”Chuuya manhandled Dazai back around to face him when he tried escaping. With a quick, frustrated groan, Chuuya tipped the frankly disgusting medicine into his own mouth and pressed his lips against Dazai’s, snarling a little when he bit his lip. Chuuya slipped his tongue into Dazai's mouth and forced the medicine in, then reached up with his other hand to pinch Dazai's nose closed.Dazai tried pulling away, but Chuuya's hands clamped him there for a long moment until he gave in and swallowed.He pulled away and rolled his eyes at Dazai's childishly disgusted expression. He even mimed gagging at the taste and clutched his throat pitifully. The most reaction Chuuya gave was a scrunch of his nose at the artificial cherry and weird thickness.“Gods, you're such a baby,” Chuuya griped, rubbing the bite marks on his hand.“Chuuya,” Dazai glared lightly. “You'll never understand how awful that was.”Chuuya gaped. “I had to put it in my mouth too!”“That doesn't mean anything you dog!”
  “Oh my gods-”
It was lucky that the next morning, when Chuuya woke up with his arms around a sleeping Dazai (his insomnia had gotten a lot better since they left Japan), his breathing didn't sound as congested. A quick cursory brush against his forehead confirmed he wasn't as warm as the day before. For all of the dramatics his mackerel put up over taking the medicine, Chuuya had to admit it was worth getting bitten just to shove it down Dazai's throat.His partner was really so high maintenance. It was a wonder Chuuya put up with him.Dazai let out a little yawn and turned in Chuuya's arms to nuzzle his face contentedly against his chest. His arms tightened a little further as he perched his head on top of curly brown hair with a small smile.
  Yeah, a wonder.
“What are you doing?”Chuuya looked up from his project to see Dazai’s faintly off-put expression. Rude.The hat was a deep red with a dark, glimmering spiderweb pattern in a traditional men’s style. It had more embellishment than was traditional, decorated with an overwhelmingly big faux black feather and a large, glimmering amber gem fastened to the satin black ribbon. It was the kind of hat that needed a level of confidence and sharp attire to pull it off.“I thought fashion designers had to have good taste,” Dazai stuck out his tongue out in distaste, poking at the hat from where Chuuya was fixing the ribbon into place“And I thought mackerels were supposed to be in a river somewhere,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, hissing when the needle poked his finger.“I would,” Dazai groaned sufferingly, “but frostbite is such a painful experience if I don’t die from it. Not interested!”Chuuya sighed sufferingly and fixed the last stitch into place. “Well if you’re staying, then put this on and tell me if it fits, you freak.”“Chuuya likes when I’m a freak,” Dazai sniffed, but complied and put the hat on his head. Chuuya blushed at the (frankly accurate) statement.“Well?” “Hm, not really my style…” He trailed off, looking unfairly good with the amber piece offsetting his pretty eyes, both glimmering like gems. It rankled Chuuya that even like this Dazai was attractive, dressed down in bandages and a pink sweater featuring some kids cartoon- something to do with animated english-speaking ponies that he couldn’t understand without subtitles- he’d been watching that he’d never managed to see when he was younger. Chuuya bought the sweater for him, actually, intending to make fun of him with it but it didn’t work because Dazai really liked it apparently, so he couldn’t even be properly mad at how it clashed with the dolphin sleep pants he took from Chuuya’s wardrobe.“Oh shut up,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, “you’re not the one paying for it.”“Someone’s actually buying this?” Dazai widened his eyes in a mockery of shock. “Did you have to beg them like a dog?”Chuuya kicked at him and turned in his chair to check his emails on his work laptop that he had set up in the hotel room. He didn’t usually work away from his desk, but the actual office was closed for the day and he was on a deadline, so he ended up bringing the project back to the hotel with him. “F@ck off with that, will you? The project supervisor likes the design. I don’t want to hear anything about it from someone who called a shade of gray light black.”Dazai tossed a piece of cloth on the desk at him. “Just because chibi doesn’t know his colors doesn’t mean I don’t.”“You’re basically colorblind, dumbass, and gray and black are shades, not colors.” He turned around and reached up to fiddle with the rim, turning it this way and that on Dazai’s head. “Is it tight? Loose? Lumpy?”“It’s fine, I guess,” Dazai squinted. Chuuya pinched with his neon orange bandaid-covered thumb at a loose thread he noticed and examined the feather placement. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t notice Dazai watching him with an odd, contemplative expression until there were lips on his. He leaned back, startled by the kiss, but Dazai just pressed a little more, steadying Chuuya with a hand on his back. He lowered both of them in a tiny dip that curved Chuuya’s spine. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds before Dazai pulled away and grinned. “I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner.”Chuuya blinked, a little dazed by the random kiss and the weird flutter of something in his chest, but shrugged, poaching the hat from where it sat on brown curls and putting it on the desk. “Sure, I was almost done anyway. Go change.” It was nearly eight actually, which was later than he’d usually wait to bug Dazai into eating.“I can go out like this,” Dazai asserted blandly, not really wanting to go out wearing a- ah, My Little Pony? Chuuya was sure that was the name of the show- pink sweater and dolphin pajama pants, but fishing for Chuuya’s reaction.And, stupidly, Chuuya gave him a reaction to hook into, making a face at the horribly clashing casual outfit. “No, go put on actual clothes.”With a glint in his eyes, Dazai pouted. “These are actual clothes?” He feigned a gasp. “Is Chuuya… embarrassed of me?”With a deadpan stare, Chuuya gave him one last once-over and blankly looked into Dazai’s eyes with no intonation to his voice. “You’re right. That’s an amazing outfit, mackerel.”Dazai huffed, ignoring the clear sarcasm with a mischievous little twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you. Let’s go!”“I still have to change,” Chuuya shook his head, looking down at his own old Mario-kart hoodie and sweatpants and the hideous number of bandaids on his hands (he was better at sewing, but he still poked himself often. He could just use a thimble, but Dazai had been the one to bring the idea up so out of principle he couldn’t ever use one).“Just go like that,” Dazai whined. “I’m hungry!”.Well, if both of them were doing it-“Fine,” Chuuya gave in, walking over to the door and tugging on his boots while tossing Dazai’s heavy coat from the rack over to him. “Put this on over that so you don’t freeze or get sick again.”After Chuuya swung a scarf around Dazai’s neck and wrangled a hat over his overgrown curls and gloves on his hands, ignoring Dazai's complaints, he did the same for himself along with his leather jacket. He left his keys on the counter after a moment of thought and put on his hat.“Let’s just go to the place down the street,” he explained to Dazai when he looked at the keys questioningly. “Who knows what you'll catch this time if we're out longer than that.”Dazai scrunched his nose but shrugged his shoulders all the same. “Whatever.”They walked out of the five-star luxury hotel like that, wearing childish sweaters and elbowing each other the entire way. When they stepped out onto the street, Dazai reached down to entangle his hand with Chuuya’s and didn’t look at him even when his eyes searched for answers.…Dazai’s hand wasn’t warm, especially not through their gloves, but for some reason Chuuya felt like his whole body radiated heat from that simple point of contact. Dazai rubbed over a scar in the divot between Chuuya’s thumb and pointer finger and it made his heart do a weird flip-skip in his chest.Weird. He was too young and healthy for heart palpitations.It was busy out. Eight in the evening on a Sunday tended to be pretty loud in St. Petersburg, which apparently was known as the ‘Venice of the North’. Nightlife, clubbing, bars- considering they were staying in a pretty high-profile area, it wasn’t too surprising that people were still out.Chuuya felt thankful then that he had a hold on Dazai’s hand as they made their way through the sidewalk traffic, since Dazai was easily distracted when he wasn’t on a mission. It was surprising to discover the first time they took a walk through the city together. Chuuya got just as sidetracked when he saw a dog, so holding hands made it easier to keep each other on track, even as he heard people whispering around them. It wasn’t common for two men to be holding hands through Russian streets, because while same-s@x relationships were legal, marriage between them was not and heavily disapproved of, so they received a handful of nasty and reproachful looks (even though they shouldn’t be judged because they weren’t even in a relationship at all, they just sometimes regularly f@ck@d and slept in the same bed every night and kissed and went out to eat together and didn’t do those things with anyone but each other). A fierce glare from Chuuya had them backing off. Dazai didn’t seem to notice, just tugging him along (Chuuya wasn’t naive enough to think Dazai wasn’t intimately aware of every person walking around them, but he pretended well enough).As they walked, Chuuya breathed in the cold Russia air and looked up at the sky. With the city lights, the stars weren’t very visible, but he could make out a few. He wondered if Dazai had ever seen a clear sky of stars before or ever bothered to go stargazing. Probably not, considering he spent most of his nights in Yokohama’s center, ducking in and out of alleyways for missions. Chuuya had often gone out into the less populated areas of the city, particularly on the edge of the harbor on quieter nights, when he was still living on the streets just to lay down and watch the sky. Even if Dazai did have a reason to stand out by the harbor at night by himself, Chuuya knew he only ever looked down at the water, thinking of ways to keep himself under long enough to drown.Maybe, if or when they went back to Yokohama, Chuuya could convince him to try looking up for a change.“Your hair’s getting long,” Chuuya noted quietly, not noticing when his gaze had shifted but finding that it had landed on Dazai.Dazai hummed, reaching up with his other hand to tug at a strand. “Should I cut it?”Chuuya shook his head. “You don’t need to. Just noticed it, that’s all.”It was probably long enough to mess with now that it was brushing close to the bottom of his neck. The curls made it difficult to notice how long it actually was now that Dazai was properly and regularly taking care of them with their shared curl shampoo and conditioner. Chuuya smirked a little at the thought of yanking on the end of it the way Dazai did to his longer hair.“What’s with that ugly expression?” Dazai peered down at him.Chuuya scowled. “What do mean ugly expression?!”“Does chibi need a mirror? I can pull up my phone camera,” he teased with faux innocence. “You were staring at me so weirdly I thought you might bite me!”“Maybe I should!” He shouted a little too loudly, reeling back with disgust when Dazai just raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Gods, you’re insufferable,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, but kept their hands intertwined as he elbowed open the door of the restaurant.“Welcome in-!” The waiter’s eyes flickered down to their joined hands for a short moment, but to his credit he recovered quickly. “Ah, just the two of you?”Dazai nodded for both of them. He’d be ordering for both of them, too, when they were seated. Chuuya’s spoken Russian was passible now, but he was more familiar with legal jargon than food by proxy of only having the patience to learn enough to be good at his job. They were seated in the back despite the restaurant being relatively empty, which Chuuya didn’t take offense to whether it was because that was the waiter’s section or because two men dressed the way they were and holding hands could ward off other patrons.They untangled their hands, but Chuuya was quick to put his foot against Dazai’s in a little kick that he didn’t bother pulling away from. Dazai nudged back, but let him be. After a brief discussion, they ordered a few too many pirozhki from the takeout menu and wine, because going out to eat was less about getting food they couldn’t order in and more about not being in the hotel for a while. At least for Dazai, who was tossing the hat on his head onto the seat with a little scrunch of annoyance. He really didn’t like wearing beanies- it almost made Chuuya want to design an especially annoying one just to make him wear it. Speaking of designing-“Mmh, that’s right,” Chuuya perked up, pulling out his phone. “I almost forgot to tell you…” he fiddled through his emails.Dazai raised a brow and pushed his food around his plate some more before taking another small bite, probably knowing Chuuya would bully him into taking a few more bites if he didn’t. “Did my dog come up with another design? I’m surprised people pay so much for weird hats, but they’ve probably got about as many brain cells as you. Maybe it’s because they put a hat on once and it leeched-”“Shut up, don’t call me that,” Chuuya snipped back, interrupting his tirade, but it was spoken offhandedly, focused on working through the Russian alphabet in his head as he scrolled through with excited energy burning through him. “And no, that’s not it.” Then he frowned, pausing in his perusal. “And my designs aren’t weird, jackass.”“Whatever makes you feel better,” Dazai took another little bite of the pirozhki. Chuuya distantly noted that beef pirozhki were good enough to get Dazai to willingly take bites of his own accord while he thumbed through his email list-“Запрос is リクエスト (request), right?” Chuuya frowned, scrunching his brow. “Or is it ようきゅう する (demand)? ”“リクエスト (request),” Dazai hummed around the food. Chuuya nodded, working through the list until-“Aha!” He tossed the phone at Dazai, grinning triumphantly.Dazai caught the phone reflexively and flipped it around. Chuuya watched attentively with a little grin playing on his lips as he watched a number of expressions fly across his partner’s pretty face - confusion, surprise, interest - until it settled on-“You didn’t tell me you were requesting a transfer,” Dazai’s face was blank and distant.Chuuya raised an eyebrow at him, his smile faltering a bit. “Yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise. I thought you didn’t like being half frozen and sick all the time.”Was this not what he wanted? Chuuya was sure Dazai didn’t like Russia that much, or being inside all of the time. He’d go crazy himself if he had to sit in a hotel room all day- not that Dazai had to, but getting sick wasn’t worth going around unless they did it together.No, Chuuya was sure he’d read the situation right….Dazai swallowed visibly. “And… you want me to go with you?”“I-” Chuuya frowned, a little pocket of ice forming in his chest. Did Dazai not want to….? “Yeah, I mean- yeah. You- you dragged me to Russia with you, obviously I’m not- like- ditching.” A deep, broiling anger was bubbling up the back of his throat. “You- I- I can’t go back to Japan right now because of you, and you’d throw yourself off a bridge in a heartbeat, so what the hell did you think I’d do?!”For once, Dazai’s expression was completely open even in the public restaurant, something nervous and confused and relieved bubbling there in the widened wine brown of his eyes. That gaze, purely calculative and searching, scanned him with hunger that set off alarm bells just as much as it enticed him closer, urging him to burn his hand on Dazai’s open flame. A sharp edge of anxiety curved in his beautiful irises, perfectly readable to Chuuya even as it shuttered away a moment later.What did Dazai have to feel anxious about….?Huh.“You…” Chuuya’s brow scrunched together. “You know I’m not going without you, right?”If anything, he’d think Dazai would be the one to leave without Chuuya. It was, well- it wasn’t exactly out of character to assume he’d leave without a word, again. He came back last time, but would he keep coming back? How permanent was this, really?Dazai’s expression fluttered into a small, trembling smile. “Slug, I don’t… I don’t have a visa for France. I didn’t-” He visibly bit back whatever he was going to say, and just like that a thin layer of a mask slid back into place like it always did when they were in public, a frustrating sarcastic and uncaring facade that Chuuya despised. The window of vulnerability wouldn’t return until Chuuya worked it back down in the privacy of their hotel room. “I didn’t think my dog would want to keep his master around after spending so much time together. I’m touched, really.”Chuuya rolled his eyes, choosing not to unpack part of that in a public place now that he realized what the technical problem was. “Just get a visa, then,” he picked up his fork to take another bite.“It’ll take a few weeks to apply and get one even if I break a few rules,” Dazai explained, something sullen in his tone. “And chibi has to leave soon to take the job.” He held up the phone with the email still on the screen for emphasis.Oh. That- that was true.If they were anyone else, it wouldn’t be a problem. Dazai could come and meet up with him as soon as he was able. But they were still on the run from the mafia. Chuuya was good after his time on the streets, but he wasn’t Dazai, who’d kept their trail perfectly clean for literal months. He’d miss something on his end even if Dazai did everything in his power to run surveillance in Russia. It wasn’t about hiding; Chuuya could keep himself under the radar for a long time, but with his job and both of them working to build credibility under their names away from their time in the mafia, it wasn’t that simple. It would be hard to keep everything in line on his own while still working a nine to five job and he would inevitably miss something.And more than that, Chuuya… well, Dazai wasn’t exactly stable. If Chuuya left on his own, would Dazai really be fine? There wouldn’t be anyone to stop him from getting sick, or to make him take medicine if he did, or to go get him when he jumped off a bridge or thought about drinking bleach. A few weeks was more than enough time for Dazai to spiral.“The mafia would notice if I tried to cheat another visa in less than that time,” Dazai explained, disrupting Chuuya's thoughts in a low tone. “We’d be advertising where we are and what we’re doing.”“I'll ask for another transfer later,” Chuuya decided, but there was an ounce of disappointment in his voice that he couldn't hide. He'd been getting himself excited over finally leaving the frigid country. It was beautiful in summer, but it couldn't make up for how miserable the cold was and how easily it got Dazai sick. “We’ll just have to stay in Russia for another month or two.”“Chuuya wanted to go now though,” Dazai pouted a little. “The only visa we could get within the week is-”“So there is one?” Chuuya demanded, definitely sounding a little too eager, but his thoughts had him a little on edge. “Just do what you need to for it, I don’t care.”Dazai blinked, and Chuuya might’ve been seeing things but the tips of his ears looked a little pink. “It’s a marriage visa, idiot. We’d have to be legally married, and then I could come with you,” he rolled his eyes at Chuuya..Huh.Chuuya flushed.His first impulse was hell no.Marriage.With Dazai.And then, ramming into him like a train, his second thought was-
  Marriage.
With Dazai.A little less repulsive and a little too enticing. It was legal, not romantic, and he knew that. And- and it wasn’t like Dazai couldn’t figure out how to get them divorced with a snap of his fingers. It wouldn’t necessarily need to be permanent.Permanent.Chuuya had just been thinking about the permanence of their situation. If nothing else, marriage was a legally binding contract that would tie them together. He had tied Dazai to him emotionally and physically to separate degrees, but this would add another layer of security. Chuuya felt a little too willing, a little too eager, but that didn’t matter. It was impulsive, and reckless, and they were edging something a little too close to a reality of what their relationship was, but that didn’t matter either.“That would make it easier to keep the mafia off us too, right?” Chuuya questioned quietly.Dazai froze visibly and blinked widely at him. (It would, Dazai noted distantly. Testimonial, communications, and medical marital privileges would make it easier to allocate different favors he was calling in towards more important matters. 
  If one of them were for whatever reason admitted into a hospital, they would be allowed access to that room and given constant updates without any extra hoops to jump in if they were spouses. There were also taxation benefits; not that that really mattered to Dazai or Chuuya, but it was worth noting. The spousal visa was just one of the things they could do with a marriage license.

  On the other hand, it would also give them something over each other if they had to get divorced for whatever reason. Dazai didn’t really expect that Chuuya would want to be around him for long, and when that happened the slug would get married to someone who wasn’t broken like him and then-

  Well. Dazai had already screwed over enough of Chuuya’s life. If he decided he wanted to marry Dazai and divorce him, that was his choice. It just… wasn’t one he thought Chuuya would make.)
“Yeah, but you don't want to marry me.” He said it like he didn’t expect Chuuya to contradict him. There was an odd tone of finality there that Chuuya didn’t really like, so he raised his eyebrow questioningly.“If it's just to keep the mafia off of us-”Soukoku had always been a catastrophic pairing that threatened lives and civilizations. It was never meant to be conceived of good ideas. What was marriage if not another way to keep Dazai by his side in every way possible? In any case, it really was a poetic inevitability that Soukoku would mesh in all ways, intertwining until it was indecipherable where one of them ended and the other began.
  His grin tasted like a phantom spike of blood, a dare and a commitment all at once, when he stared into hollow wine brown eyes reflecting shades of bottomless ocean blue.
“-then let’s get married.”'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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