A house made of cards, and us, inside
Even though the end is visible, even if it's going to collapse soon
A house made of cards, we're like idiots
Even if it's a vain dream, stay like this a little more.

••••••

"Chuuya?"

Nakahara blinked absently and stared at Elise with a dull look. The girl squatted in front of him, worriedly looking at his face. Chuuya barely lifted the corners of his lips.

"Everything is fine, princess, you don't need to worry," he said as softly as possible, but his voice was unpleasantly hoarse, because of which he frowned.

"I'm worried about Chuuya," the blonde answered, shrugging indifferently. And yes, Chuuya knows that it is true. 

The girl pressed her lips thoughtfully, and then stood up. Carefully, she got on a red-headed lap, put her hands on the pale cheeks and ran her finger along one of his fresh scratches. The blue eyes attentively went over his face, and Elise's look was getting darker with every second.

"Everything is fine," the girl said calmly, not paying attention to how the mobster flinched. Her voice is soft, but the notes of indifference are still present. Chuuya didn't pay attention to it, because it's Elise, and Elise is not quite a human. "Nothing is going to happen to him, Dazai is tenacious."

"C'est sûr," esper chuckled and grinned, when the girl blinked surprised. "I know, my lady. Don't worry, everything is ok."
[English translation: that's for sure]

He has a weakness for children. Chuuya has no idea where it came from, but kids always drag after him. It makes the boss happy, ane-san hides her smile behind the kimono's sleeve. Chuuya himself doesn't really care, because he always meets children, whom he wants to warm. Elise, who is not quite a human, but clings to him with all her might, Kyuusaku, whom it was so difficult to find an approach to. They themselves let him in, and he couldn't refuse.

Nakahara took a deep breath, and grabbing her by her waist, made her sit comfortable on his lap. The girl was just waiting for this, she immediately hugged his neck, putting her chin on his shoulder.

The body ached unpleasantly, reminding him of the need for rest, but the mobster was sitting stubbornly on an uncomfortable chair and waiting for news.

Chuuya hates hospitals. They are associated with Corruption. Hateful white walls are the first thing he sees when he pops up the viscous darkness. The second thing is Dazai's tired face, his bushy crown and very tired eyes.

It happens rarely, but usually it's Nakahara who is in critical condition after missions. No, of course, the jerk was repeatedly pumped out or just locked up in the hospital, but coma...

Chuuya is lost.

Isn't he supposed to worry? He is not sure if the scratching sensation in his chest is considered a worry, but he doesn't like it. His ribs tightened with a tight knot, and he can't breathe normally.

Chuuya is generally not very good at emotions. He knows what rage is, he is made of rage, it's under his skin, it never leaves him. But other emotions...

"Chuuya-kun."

The red-headed raised his head, facing Mori's unusually soft look. Elise fidgeted in his arms, and he loosened his hands for the girl to turn to face the boss. The man didn't even look at her. His gaze was focused on the tired face of his subordinate.

"You can go to him."

Nakahara didn't react to his words for several seconds, and after that he nodded.

Elise pursed her lips in displeasure, but she quickly turned to him and took his face into her hands again.

"Am I going to wait for Chuuya tomorrow?"

"Of course," he quietly whispered, and he carefully lowered her to the floor after the girl placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He was still shaken, and he could barely stand, but Nakahara stubbornly moved from his place.

The boss gave him an attentive look, putting his hand on his shoulder as he walked by. Frankly speaking, Chuuya wanted a lot for Kouyou to be here. But she is not here, but there is a hospital room with that jerk Dazai in it. In a coma.

Entering the room, he didn't look at the lying body. He settled on a chair near the bed, clasped his hands, but his gaze never left the bandaged palms.

"Who would have thought," Chuuya quietly said, his words hung like a heavy weight in the ringing silence, but they pressured only him, "that you'd do such a stupid thing, not me."

Surely, nobody is going to answer him.

Dazai's face was covered with many scratches and several bruises. From the side it seemed that he was peacefully sleeping.

Nakahara doesn't know what to do. Does he need to say something? To take his hand or something else? He has no idea why he even came here, but Dazai always comes, that's why he came, too. It won't probably help, but he stubbornly sits here and is not ready to leave.

Chuuya is used to silence being pressed. Arahabaki's whisper sounds like a bell in the silence, you can't shut it up. But the silence is unbearable this time, because Dazai lies next to him, and he is silent.

"He will die. He will die and leave you alone. He will die, and you'll stay with me again - with yourself-"

"Pfft, you're really protecting me, hardhead," the mobster chuckled, getting more comfortable on the chair. "Didn't you say that sentiment is stupid? Why couldn't you sit tight?" his chapped lips stretched out in a malicious grin, his words literally oozed with poison and anger, anger, anger.

"It's your fault, yoursyoursyours, your fault."

"I would handle it," unlike you. "Who the fuck do you think you are, you piece of shit. Who asked you," the blue eyes slid indifferently over the body of his partner, hellfire shimmered at the bottom of the dark pupils. "Who the fuck asked you," the rage inside him roared furiously, it wanted out, it burned with its breath. Rage, anger, hatred, and regret. And guilt, guilt, guilt.

Chuuya tiredly massaged his bridge of his nose and looked at Osama's pale face again. Peaceful, calm. Of course, he is on the verge of death, and he is sitting here, exhausting himself. His heart is beating hard in his chest. Disgusting feeling. Incomprehensible.

Chuuya hates everything incomprehensible. And Dazai. He has thousands and one reason to hate Dazai. At least for the fact that he is the only one who can control his ability, his madness. The only one next to which this monster in his head shuts up, albeit not for long. Oh, Chuuya has many reasons to hate Dazai, whom he understands too well, purely intuitive, but he pushes him away just as much. As they say, madman is punished by his madness. And they found the echo of their madness in each other.

Disgusting.

"I hate you so much."

••••••

Hot, hot, hot

When Chuuya touches his neck with his wet lips, when sharp teeth gently brush against his skin. When the tips of the red hair slide over his shoulder, when he hears a noisy breath. When he holds Chuuya close, he runs his fingers along his hips.

There's a fire in his chest.

He squeezes his hips harder, and exhales, when the red-headed grinds on his crotch. Nakahara's lips are still touching his skin, even more tangible this time.

"Chuuya," he softly says. He is turned on, because Chuuya is on his knees, Chuuya is kissing him and lets him attach the collar to his neck, even if only now. But for now. "Chuuya."

"What?" his partner growls, when persistence appears in Dazai's voice.

Blue eyes ran discontentedly over the calm face, stopping on the satisfied smile. Chuuya is getting close to him and looks. The warm breath on his lips almost blows Osamu's mind. Brown-haired gently tucks the strand of his hair, and then he runs his knuckles along his warm cheek.

Almost gently.

"Chibi is so impatient," he says chuckling, but doesn't look away. There's no trace of the mockery that is present in his voice. Only passion, desire and tenderness. Almost unnoticeable, but still tenderness.

"Shut up."

Their relationship is fragile, unsteady, like a house of cards. The house is built on hate and attraction, its walls shake from every movement, and a light breeze can scatter it any second now.

Dazai is sure that he can't have healthy love, like others. He has a vague idea of what it is all about, but feelings he has for Chuuya are the closest to it. Maybe one day he would be able to chain him.

••••••

When Dazai opened his eyes, Chuuya was sitting next to him. His head was resting on the bed, and the disgusting hat was on the nightstand.

'I hate you'

It is true. They hate each other. But Chuuya is still squeezing his hand, and Dazai gets a warm feeling in his chest.

——————

original by ddaaazai