#bsd drabble

"my bandages." dazai fiddles with his fingers almost awkwardly, grazing over the rougher texture of the bandages; a rather different approach compared to his skin. "what about them?" you question, reckoning to leave his turbulent concerns and just bury yourself back into his chest. the young detective huffs out a frustrated sigh; almost childishly, annoyed that you were completely fine with his bandaged limbs and didn't get what he wanted.

"off. i think i wanna take them off." —a phenomenon you would've never thought dazai osamu would ever allow to, especially suggest. you slowly nod, your fingers grazing over his knuckles, "you sure?" dazai liked the texture of bandages, it hid his skin, what laid underneath, and the texture was just.. comforting. a proud pleasure of his the detective never tried to hide; the shielding feeling of bandages. the brunette seemed nervous, almost terrified that he was going to let this go right now. dazai figured that if you were going to be with him, you should be with all of him. "mhm, i.. i wanna feel you forreal."

and so, carefully, he unwrapped the bandages off his fingers, then his arms, then his neck. and soon, the brunette sheepishly bared all of him to you—his version of all of him, at least.

dazai.. no, osamu, took this time to run his bare fingers through your silken hair. lips parting ever so softly as a pink blush tinted his cheeks, unfamiliar to this stricken feeling of just you. the detective giggles softly at your lovestruck smile, admiring such a rare and beautiful sight. osamu reached beneath your shirt, hands ghosting over your waist delicately, pulling you in closer for his fingers to stop and caress your lower back. you happily conceal your face into his bare neck again, intaking the soft scent of alcohol and fresh laundry. when your lips are pressed against his neck, dazai stirs and giggles faintly, moving his arms into encircling your shoulders, pulling you close to just card his fingers through your hair. intake your delightful and familiar scent, and giggle at each other's intimate vulnerability.

during a night such as this, being completely vulnerable to each other was rare, but you'd continue to bask in it for many nights, evenings, and days to come.

w/c: 524

he wakes up, and kyouka greets him with food she and yosano had gone out to buy the day before. she looks happy, talks quietly of her invitation to go on a walk with the tanizakis and kenji. atsushi smiles something that lasts beyond breakfast.

they go into work, though it's a short day today. criminal activity doesn't stop for anyone, but ranpo tells them all with full confidence that he'll take care of all of it. he brushes off the thanks, claiming it's not kindness, rather he's decided that they should definitely finish off the year strong—and the only way to do that is with him.

they thank him anyway.

kunikida is buried in his planning, but caves in to help decorate a bit when yosano says he should help her shop for presents if he doesn't.

fukuzawa silently passes the children paper and color pencils and scissors, and it's a strange sight to see him cutting out paper cats to hang on a string, but they accept it because it's a lovely sight in all.

kenji has brought food for them all, telling them about the plants that prefer the cold, bundles of winter flowers shoved precariously into vases to brighten up the place.

tanizaki startles a few of them when he uses his ability to make illusions of snow. naomi pulls a few of them out to play in the actual snow outside, and kunikida hurries to ensure they're all wearing mittens and hats, lest he has to send them to yosano's office.

dazai sleeps on the couch until yosano offers him a drink, and they huddle up with their alcohol, giggling until kunikida has to take it away from them.

atsushi watches with something like awe, full of warmth he thinks is from more than just the mountain of scarves kunikida has wrapped around him.

he helps hang up the decorations, plating food, makes snowmans that keep falling, does the reports ranpo has long given up on, sits on the couch with dazai and talks him into wearing a warmer coat.

it's such an odd feeling, he thinks. his face nearly aches with a smile that won't seem to go away.

dazai sends him off sometime in the afternoon, telling him to go get this and that. atsushi bundles up and hurries out dutifully, deciding to pick up a few candies for ranpo and the children if he has spare money.

he wanders near-aimlessly down a few streets. he doesn't get to the store before he runs into a shivering figure, standing motionlessly on the sidewalk.

words of concern die on his throat when he's met with hazy-gray eyes, black hair that bleeds into tips as white as the snow.

akutagawa's cheeks and nose are dusted a rosy pink from the cold, and atsushi instinctively reaches for one of his several scarves, wrapping it around akutagawa without a second thought.

akutagawa gazes at him, at first suspiciously, and then confused, though he nuzzles just a tad into the scarf. atsushi realizes only a moment later what he's done, and goes to retrieve the scarf, but rashomon stops him like a guard dog, and atsushi snaps his hand back.

"what are you doing here?" he asks. he looks around, as though to expect blood seeping into the snow, or some mafia-related building nearby.

"waiting," akutagawa says, voice softer than usual. he seems to notice and clears his throat, turning quickly to sneeze before returning to glaring at atsushi.

"oh. what for?"

"chuuya-san."

atsushi takes a moment to place the name, but before he can, the aforementioned chuuya arrives, and atsushi freezes, recognizing him as the executive.

chuuya takes one look at them, eyebrow raised in question, before huffing and pivoting on the sidewalk. "just come back to headquarters before it gets dark," he says, and leaves as though he was never there in the first place.

akutagawa goes to protest, but when he's met only with the bustling of the city, he curls in on himself uncertainly.

atsushi watches him quietly. he's reminded of himself, almost. of nights spent in the snow, alone, wondering what he was doing there. if anyone would find him.

he offers a hand, then retracts it hoping akutagawa didn't notice. he does, however, and looks at him inquiringly.

"what?"

"uhm." atsushi scours his head. remembers kyouka's comment about going on a walk, and clears his throat. "want to walk?"

akutagawa's brow furrows, and he looks ready to attack. atsushi readies himself, his stance shifting ever so sligntly. but the blow never comes.

akutagawa coughs into his hand, looking away. "where to?"

atsushi's eyes widen. he finds himself smiling for some reason, and the ache feels lovely.

"i don't know."

akutagawa scoffs. "useless as ever, jinko."

he never thought the word 'useless' could be fond. somehow, it still feels like it. it doesn't hurt the way it used to.

"the park?"

"okay."

akutagawa starts off without asking which park, and atsushi hurries to follow.

silently, he hopes dazai won't mind if he gets his things late.

but either way, they'll have to wait.

singling him out in front of a crowd, to him, shows just how much you must be thinking of him. since your message doesn't register in his mind immediately, he's over the moon at the thought that he stood out so much to you. that is, until he hears your comment to akutagawa. were his previous warnings not enough? the fact that you even got a response from him enrages him even more. you thought this was funny, did you? poor you, because now dazai, seething with the mic in hand, is convinced you've forgotten your place, and he's already planning a week-long trip for the both of you—didn't he tell you that you had to help him investigate a new ability group outside the city?

chuuya's angry enough as it is, and now you had to go and piss him off even more. the crowd watching you already had his blood boiling, but your rude remark to him almost blew his fuse entirely. what was this whole stunt for? all this time he was trying to make things bearable for you, unlike dazai who only knew how to torment you without any consideration. he's practically sulking in the corner, waiting for you to make your way off stage so he can pounce on you and demand an explanation.

the hope that fills akutagawa at your bright smile is quickly crushed once he feels the burning glares directed at him, despair starting to sink in. still, despite the definite trouble this would get him into, he can't help but find some delight in the situation. the two of you could never stand on equal footing, not as long as you were here, but at least he was worth a single moment of consideration from you. that was enough for him.