WARNING: mentions of homophobia

Chapter Text

Dazai had never seen Atsushi behaving so downright feral before. He watched his roommate as he rolled out of his closet at 6 a.m. put his milk in before his cereal like a psychopath, only to notice we had no cereal left so he just drank a bowl of milk. He'd showered three before 1 p.m. because he was actively sweating despite the chilly weather outside, and on top of that he'd had four cups of coffee.... four of them!

Atsushi doesn't even like fucking coffee!

And on top of that Dazai couldn't get a clear answer as to why he was acting so strange, he was super productive yesterday, albeit a little skittish but when wasn't he? Getting things done always made him feel better. So why had it seemingly had the opposite effect this time? Dazai really had no clue what the hell was happening with his friend, and he didn't like that one bit.

Atsushi pulled the jumper he'd stolen from Dazai, the only jumper Dazai owned, impossibly close to his body. The top of his shaggy bangs barely poking out of the neck of the material making him resemble some kind of fuzzy turtle.

"Ok, whats wrong?" He asked boldly, sipping on his warm cup of morning tea.

"Nothing" Atsushi's voice was barely audible through the thick fabric of the jumper, but Dazai had ears like a damn hawk.

"If nothings wrong why are you whining like a baby?" Dazai teased, kneeing the side of his friend gently hoping it would get more of an engaging reaction from him, which it did.
"I'm not whining" he whined, his bare feet swinging off the sofa in the exact same way a child would if they were having a strop, his denial was amusing to say the least.

Dazai's teasing was cut off by the sound of Atsushi's phone, a loud text message notification which was.... unusual. Don't misunderstand, Dazai was glad that Atsushi was texting people, but it was still an unfamiliar idea in Dazai's mind, Atsushi never used to talk to anyone let alone texted people of his own volition. Which was good, it meant that joining the society really was doing good things for his confidence.

"Whos that?" Dazai asked curiously as he watched Atsushi's arm uncoil from the hoodie with his phone in hand. He unlocked it, the bright screen emphasizing the blue hues of stress underneath Atsushi's large eyes.

He sighed, "Chuuya"

Dazai choked on his tea so violently that it not only dribbled down his face and neck but also spat out of his mouth and over his joggers and the sofa cushions, "What?!" He spluttered, eyes wild and wide, "What did you say—"

"Chuuya texted me—"

"I know what you said but why?!?" Dazai rarely fell into hysterics, but by god was he on the verge of pure, unadulterated hysteria.

Chuuya and Atsushi?

Atsushi and Chuuya?

Friends?

Impossible.

Atsushi's face went incredibly red once he'd read whatever the hell the reincarnation of lucifer sent him.

Oh no, oh please no.

"Atsushi," Dazai said between a deep breath, "Are you and Chuuya fucking?" "

Atsushi turned so fast he actually might've broken the sound barrier "What is wrong with you? No! no we're not...NO! god why would you even—"

"Well you looked flustered I don't know maybe he sent a flirty text and yo—"

"You really just heard yourself say that and you're still defending it?! No! Dazai. Not happening." Atsushi defended, "He's helping me with something ok? We' re-- I mean...kinda friends."

Dazai squinted, finally finding the time to wipe the tea off his jaw and neck before replying "Helping you with what? Summoning demons and burning witches? "At that Atsushi went bright red, let out some guttural whine of absolute helplessness and submerged himself back into the warmth of Dazai's hoodie, "Sushi" Dazai warned.

"ithinkihaveadatewithAkutagawabutidontknowandidontwanttoassumesoimnotgoing" He muttered so quickly and quiet that even Dazai could make out absolutely none of it.

"I'm sorry what?" Dazai asked.

"Isaidithinkihavea—"

"No no no," He repeated, grabbing the fabric of the hoodie and pushing it down, "No muttering, just tell me straight." Atsushi was blushing furiously, he was clearly embarrassed or worried about whatever the issue was, "C'mon man, it's just me" Dazai comforted, ruffling the silver bangs slightly to lighten the mood.

Atsushi sighed away as many of his nerves as he could before trying to repeat himself, "I—I think I have a date with—with Akutagawa." He paused, eyes flickering to see Dazai's expression but he was completely tuned in and listening to what he had to say with an open mind, no sign of shock or disappointment whatsoever, "but I don't know if it is actually a date so—I think I'm just gonna say I'm sick or something—"

"Oh absolutely not!" Dazai boomed, startling Atsushi back into the warmth of the hoodie with his forwardness "You've been eying up that emo boy since you first saw him, you're going on the damn date."

"But I don't even know if it is a date!"

Dazai huffed, "If you can misread anything that man says as a date then trust me it is. I mean, you've spent some one on one time with him, right?"

Atsushi thought about that for a second. Although he met him at the Laundrette semi often, they'd never properly hung out either outside of the society or his work; but he'd still spent time with him, not a lot but...he had.

"A little yeah, but—"

"And you lived! That enough should tell you know he doesn't want you dead, and in Akutagawa language not wanting you dead means he likes you a whole lot." Dazai waved his arms dramatically, Atsushi smiled shyly at the idea of Akutagawa being mean to everyone but him, even though he was still definitely mean to him sometimes. For whatever reason, he was a lot more tolerant of Atsushi, despite their incredibly differing personalities, "In terms of the date I need details."

"Details?"

"Yeah, like how'd it happen? Who said what etcetera etcetera."

"Oh," Atsushi thought back, "Well, I got Chuuya to give me his number so I could apologize for how I snapped at him during the last debate" Dazai nodded along, "I said I was sorry and that I wanted to make it up to him, and he told me I shouldn't apologize for having a backbone—"

"A valid point" Dazai commented with a thoughtful nod.

Atsushi rolled his eyes with a tut, "Anyway, he said he'd accept my apology if I shut up about it, so I said I'd shut up about it, and then he asked what we were doing, since I offered to make it up to him." Dazai's eyes went wide with excitement, like a child on Christmas "he asked if I could meet him at 5 p.m. today—"

Dazai couldn't hold down his giddiness and let out a high-pitched squeal before forcefully crushing Atsushi in a hug, "My boy has a date! I'm so proud of you!" He laughed, swinging back and forth as his grip got tighter and tighter.

"C—can't br—breath"

"Oh my god! You need to wear something cute! Something emo maybe? Go full e-boy mode and win his heart!" Atsushi couldn't remember the last time Dazai had been so excited about something, he was glad of course...but still, he didn't want the added pressure of getting his hopes up if it wasn't a date, or if it went really bad.

On top of that, Dazai and Atsushi never really spoke about this kind of stuff. Relationship stuff. They were both very private when it came to past significant others, so talking to Dazai about Akutagawa was incredibly foreign, but he didn't hate it.

"I don't even own anything like that Dazai" Atsushi wheezed, pushing his hands of the slender man's chest to get some breathing room. Thankfully, Dazai released his crushing death grip on him long enough that he could wiggle his way out and stand up off the sofa, "And its just tea, I'm not getting dressed up for tea."

Dazai rolled his eyes, standing up and towering over his friend with a goofy grin "You're not dressing up for tea, you're dressing up for Akutagawa" he sang, doing some weird little dance with his arms as if he was signaling an orchestra, "C'mon lemme see your wardrobe! I promise I'll be kind"

Atsushi sighed in defeat, knowing full well that he'd never be able to escape the wrath of Dazai when he was this excited. He let Dazai follow him into his room, rip open his wardrobe and rifle his way through his very limited collection of clothes, he watched as his face went from amused to horrified to defeated all in the span of ten minutes.

"How many white blouses do you need? Like seriously." He complained, sliding yet another blouse to the side, "They're not even good quality!" He groaned, "Look!" he pulled one off, discarded the hanger somewhere on the floor, and put his hand inside of the chest area, "You can totally see through it."

Atsushi snapped his blouse back, gently rubbing out any creases Dazai's rough handling could've created, "I like them," He mumbled, almost ashamed, "They fit me well."

Dazai huffed, "Those are big words for someone who almost exclusively wears oversized cardigans." He continued on his assault for quite some time, before he pulled out one of Atsushi's newer impulsive purchases, "This!" Dazai held up the heavy v-line, light pink cardigan that was decorated with overly large buttons and lighter pink peaches, "It screams Bottom and Femboy—"

"Dazai!" Atsushi scolded; he was so incredibly shy about this type of thing. Dates, relationships, anything like that made him...not uncomfortable but just feel strange. He liked to keep his thoughts private, and Dazai was practically saying everything he thought, out loud and proud and unashamed. He snatched the cardigan off of him, holding it in his hands and playing with the soft material. Wearing it would definitely offer him a level of comfort, that much was undeniable. With a sigh, he relented, "What about trousers?"
Dazai squealed.

After what seemed like hours of trying on different outfits, styling his hair differently, and almost putting makeup on Atsushi was on his way to meet Akutagawa at a local tea shop. The interior was very wooden, vintage even. There was a wall just full of books that you could pick up if you saw a title you fancied, and there were plants dangling from cute woven baskets. The tables were a lighter wood, and the chairs were dark wood with little cushions on them. They sold everything a normal coffee shop would, only it was known for their fruit's teas; and by god, Atsushi never even knew putting so many fruits in a tea was legal.

He was nervous, terribly nervous, but the energy the shop gave out was soothing. It was like he'd just stepped into a chamber which repelled evil, he felt completely safe. Well, he did until he spotted Akutagawa in the corner, a few books on the table, and a cup of tea steaming his face. He looked unreal, even in his lax outfit of skinny jeans and a grey and black-tie dye hoodie, it was unfair. He felt attacked.

But he'd made it this far and he was going to see it through, date or not he said he'd make it up to Akutagawa and that's exactly what he was going to do.

Akutagawa didn't notice the light footsteps that approached his table, not until a small delicate hand gripped the chair in front of him.

When he looked up, his stomach instantly erupted with butterflies so violent he wouldn't have been surprised if he suddenly vomited where he sat.

"Sorry I'm a little late, have you been waiting long?" Atsushi's voice was quiet and soft like a lullaby, it made his head feel foggy, but his eyes were sharp and raking his body with no shame whatsoever. He was wearing the same white blouse, only he had an annoyingly adorable cardigan over the top which drowned him a little past his hips and smart black trousers.

"Uh—" Aktugawa's throat was so incredibly dry, but at the same time he felt like if he'd been standing up when he saw Atsushi he'd have instantly dropped to his knees, "No, I was early." His tone was gruff and clearly quite distracted, but if Atsushi noticed he didn't say anything, "I had to return a book."

Atsushi's eyes widened slowly, peering over Akutagawa's stiff shoulders to eye up the large wall of books behind him, "I didn't think you'd be able to take books home," He mused as he slid his chair in, legs accidentally brushing against Akutagawa's which seemed much longer under the table, "Sorry," He mumbled shyly, moving his legs away quickly. Akutagawa shook his head lightly, suppressing the nervous urge to gulp, "So, what are you reading?"

Akutagawa wasn't really used to long conversations; he wasn't much of a conversationalist. He was more of an action kinda guy, "Um, do you want to read it?" He asked, picking the top book off of his mini stack and gently stretching to over the table.

"Oh really? You don't mind?" Atsushi smiled; he didn't even care what type of book it was. Hell, Akutagawa could've handled him a core module 5 math exercise book and he'd have still been excited about it. Akutagawa shook his head, and Atsushi took the book from him being overly careful not to touch his hand accidentally as he did so. "Oh no way!" Atsushi beamed, making the man across from him jolt lightly in his chair as if he'd been asleep, "I've read this before."

"Really?" Akutagawa's tone was half surprised and half impressed, but all beautiful in Atsushi's burning ears.

"Yeah," He giggled, "The covers pretty hard to forget."

The book in question was by Jonathan Haidt, a social psychology book called The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, the cover sporting a very large middle finger in place of the I in mind.

"I didn't take you for the uh..." Akutagawa paused, not knowing how to say what he meant without it coming out terribly mean, then again why was he even trying to be nice? It was Atsushi, he didn't like him one bit, not one bit, "well-read type."

Atsushi shrugged, "That's understandable, to be honest, I don't come across as very smart, but I like to read stuff like this every so often. Dazai used to give me shit for it when we were little, said that it was boring, and the words were too big." Atsushi chuckled at the memory, imagining his friend's overgrown hair and constantly bandaged arms from when he'd fall over or try to fight the other kids for being mean to his sushi.

Akutagawa wanted to ask questions, he wanted to get to know Atsushi. Wanted to know how long he and Dazai were friends, where they grew up, what his favorite food was. He really did. But the thought of that also terrified him. So, he was immensely thankful when a lady walked over with the tray of tea he ordered; he was getting scared of how naturally the conversation was flowing. Well, that and how nice he felt talking to him in general. He felt like he was being suffocated by Atsushi's positive spirit like if he felt any warmer talking to him he'd be crushed under the weight of the air...but he did like it, and he didn't want to admit that.

Atsushi leaned back to make room for the tray, putting a little more distance between himself and Akutagawa. He was confused by how sad that made him.

"I ordered some teas, I didn't know what you'd like so I ordered some different ones—" Akutagawa was mid ramble when he noticed the deep pink flush of Atsushi's cheeks, "Uh—I, if you don't want—"

"No, it's ok!" Atsushi shook his hands in front of him forcefully, "Thank you." He said, picking up the light pink tea on the table, he instinctively gave it a sniff and the sweet berry aroma hit him right in the face, "This one smells good." He muttered, bringing the cup to his lips before having a small sip. His face twisted in disgust before he was even conscious of it he made a noise of shock "Yack, it tastes like a candle."

To his surprise, Akutagawa laughed and smiled almost fondly at him. The things this man was making Atsushi feel just wasn't fair at all!

"That's a uh," He began, reaching forward to take the cup off of the very offended looking Atsushi, with one whiff he knew what it was, "Mulled wine and red berry."

"Mulled win—" Atsushi gagged, "All you did was sniff it how do you even know that? Are you like, some tea connoisseur or something?" Atsushi joked lightly in an attempt to forget the horrid taste, but it didn't work all that well.

"Atsushi," His tone was deep, the tone that never failed to make the boy shiver in anticipation. He looked over, watching as a small unforgiving smirk landed itself of Akutagawa's lips, he began to twist the mug around, "It's labeled."

"I—" Atsushi stared at the very clearly labeled mug for a solid minute before a scowl formed, eyebrows knit together in annoyance. Akutagawa chuckled, "Shut up."

The two sat, drank, and talked for what seemed like five minutes before they decided to ogle at the book section. Atsushi would point out books he'd read and suggest them to Akutagawa, but to his surprise, he'd read most of them. After that it almost became a game, both of them trying to find titles that the other hadn't read yet. Annoyingly, In Akutagawa's opinion, they found out they had a lot in common. Before they knew it, nearly four hours had passed.

By the time they'd left the tea house the sun had begun to dip, so had the temperature. In fact, after just ten minutes of walking Atsushi's hands were an unfortunate pretty shade of blue. Akutagawa noticed, "Put your hands in your pockets, idiot" He said, Atsushi had to look up to meet his gaze now because of the height difference, and although it hurt his neck to crank it up this way Akutagawa was still a ridiculously pretty view...maybe even prettier from the low angle.

Atsushi sunk his hands back into the sleeves of his cardigan, "I don't have pockets" he pouted, eyes still locked onto Akutagawa's.

The little pout made Akutagawa's heart thumb, he tore his eyes away harshly "Well stop complaining and deal with it."

Atsushi rolled his eyes, no longer believing the mean exterior that the tall man put up, "How am I supposed to deal with it if I don't have pockets?" he pressed.

"I don't know, fucking adapt or something" Akutagawa bit back, his speedy words matching the quick fluttering of butterfly wings in his stomach and chest.
Atsushi huffed, and with surprising accuracy and determination shot his shot. He scooted closer to Akutagawa, snuggling himself nicely against his arms before shoving his closest hand into the front pocket of his hoodie.

Akutagawa spluttered, "Wh—what are you doing you idiot!" He tried his absolute best to ignore the new weight in his front pocket, tried even harder to ignore the very present push of Atsushi's small frame next to his own; but it didn't work. Akutagawa was equally as close to ripping the kids fucking head off as he was to kissing him.

Atsushi's cute giggle pulled Akutagawa away from the idea of murder though, "Adapting"

Akutagawa found the strength to look down at Atsushi who was already looking at him, eyes large and twinkling with mischief. The longer he looked at him, the more his heart felt like it was swelling.

The man sighed, a small smile on his lips as he finally gave a little into his inner temptations. He reached into his pockets with his nearest hand and pulled Atsushi's out. It was cold, small, and delicate. He felt like If he gripped it too hard it'd break. Before he could overthink himself into a coma, Akutagawa laced their fingers together with a faint squeeze that made Atsushi hiccup, "You're fucking impossible, I hope you know that." Akutagawa's tone was harsh, sharp; but his grip was delicate and light.

Atsushi warmed up instantly, the goosebumps on his skin and tingling through his body acting as a heater.

He was holding Akutagawa's hand.

No, Akutagawa was holding his hand!

Atsushi said nothing after that, he didn't think he had any more luck to try out. After all, this was literally the best way this half date could've ended, and it hadn't even ended yet. Atsushi was on cloud 9, he was...happy. Genuinely happy. In fact, he was so happy in that moment that it made him realize just how sad he was, it was a horribly conflicting feeling, but he accepted it.

As he walked, hands laced with Akutagawa's much larger ones, he was happy.

They made their way to a little Antique shop which sold anything you could think of, from statues to paintings to clothing. It seemed like a hoarder's dream. To Atsushi's surprise, Akutagawa didn't let go of his hand once they entered the shop, although when people walked past he did tuck their intertwined hands behind him so they were out of view. Atsushi knew it shouldn't have hurt his feelings, but it did a little bit. He knew he had to remember that this was incredibly new to Akutagawa, and he was trying his best to be understanding, but it didn't stop the feeling of a dull blade poking his heart.

They mused around for a while looking at the paintings and Atsushi nearly bought a large porcelain white tiger statue to match the bracelet that Dazai made him. Everything was going great, they were teasing each other's differing tastes, laughing, and overall having fun until an unfamiliar voice broke from behind them.

"Akutagawa?" the man in question visibly stiffened at the voice and didn't hesitate to drop Atsushi's hand, "Akutagawa Ryunosuke is that really you?" Akutagawa swiveled around, and Atsushi eyed the tall dark-haired man.

"Fyodor Dostoevsky" Akutagawa said dryly standing up tall to try and make up for the way he was feeling so internally small, "It's been a while."

"Indeed, it has, last I heard was that you'd gone to University. You should really put more effort into keeping in contact with old friends." The man, Fyodor, then turned his attention to Atsushi and it was incredibly unwelcomed. He was glaring at him like he was a disgusting rat "Oh is this your...boyfriend?"

Akutagawa somehow managed to become even stiffer at that, "No don't be ridiculous." He replied.

The man was not at all convinced, "I don't think its too ridiculous to assume, considering you were holding his hand—"

"I wasn't!" Akutagawa bit back instantly becoming defensive, "That's—that's" Atsushi wanted to help, but he knew in a situation as tense as this opening his mouth would only make things worse. He tried his best to put distance between him and the creepy Fyodor guy, but he was watching him like a fucking hawk watches mice.

"So what? You hold hands with all of your guy friends?" Fyodor pushed, arms crossing over his broad chest.

The man radiated pure homophobia. Atsushi could practically smell the hate seeping out of his pores.

"Don't be ridiculous. You need an eye test; I wasn't holding his stupid fucking hand." Akutagawa was truly trying his best not to pop his lid, trying to be considerate of the fact Atsushi was right behind him. But Fyodor was pushing him to new lows with every single word he spoke.

Fyodor laughed cynically, "I should've known you were a bumboy; I mean there's no way—"

"I'm not fucking gay! Fyodor give it a rest. That's—that's disgusting, I'd never be with a guy you know that." Fyodor tilted his head skeptically, silently egging Akutagawa on, "What you think I like him?" He yelled, pointing vaguely behind him to where Atsushi was standing, "Are you out of your mind?" Fyodor shrugged, "You seriously need me to convince you?" Fyodor nodded with an evil grin on his face.

When Akutagawa turned around, he had expected to see a sad-looking Atsushi, but what he got was a person so angry that they were on the verge of tears. Fists bawled by his sides practically daring Akutagawa to say something, anything to him. For some reason, that hurt Akutagawa so much more.

"Don't you dare" Atsushi's voice cracked so only Akutagawa could hear him. Fists bawled, lip trembling and eyes brimming with anger, "Don't you fucking dare."

Akutagawa didn't want to, he didn't but...but he had to. Fyodor wasn't someone he could afford to piss off and being gay really really pissed him off. If he was in a position to stand up to him, he would have, would've told him to piss the fuck off and mind his own business, but he wasn't.

And so, he told Atsushi "I don't like you, kid. I'm not fucking gay either...that shits---that's gross." He growled.

Atsushi knew he didn't mean it, he could tell his eyes were sorry but...but he couldn't take it. When those vile lies left Akutagawa's mouth, the dull blade that was pointing at Atsushi's heart transformed into a sharp blade that was plunged in and wiggled around and gutted him open. He didn't even try to hide the way tears streamed down his face, he almost took pleasure in seeing Akutagawa's eyes shoot wide in regret. If only it wasn't at his expense.

Atsushi was running out of there before Akutagawa could even finish blinking.

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