Salvation.

Well, truly nothing mattered anymore. Indeed, what a perfect day (late evening really) to commit a suicide. The room was pitch black and one could barely see where to step. The dimmed light from the outside couldn’t reach far enough. The dark silhouette was sitting there, alone, on the bed with his eyes closed. Probably closed. It’s not like you’d ever know, brown curly bangs covered them anyway. The man was hugging his knees tightly, dressed in a soft navy-blue hooded sweatshirt. He held his breath before taking a deep one, inhaling the fading smell of his (ex) boyfriend. This is what he was doing the entire day after receiving the painful text at 8 am. “We’re done, Dazai.” No goodbye, no nothing. Not that their relationship was perfect, it was barely a relationship at all. They met about a month ago at some dorm party. Well of course both of them got wasted. So waking up in the morning, sharing the same bed completely naked seemed like a natural course of events. He was tall — a basketball player. He had the most charming smile. His dark long hair was always in a ponytail. Dazai thought he might fall in love. But the few dates that they had were pretty far from the dates Dazai secretly dreamed about while hugging his plushy and trying to fall asleep alone in his apartment. Now they’re over. No big deal. The man suddenly started feeling nauseous, and covering his mouth he jumped to the bathroom. Nothing came out, it's normal, since he hasn't eaten for the entire day. Still kneeling in front of the toilet, he felt way too many things. The first thought was just to go to bed with a desperate hope not to wake up in the morning. Can he please die painlessly? Is it so much to ask for!? He was dumped like an empty can. Did he deserve this? No, God, no, he did not. Come on, Dazai, get up, go get a fucking drink. Self motivating talk: the usual thing for when he’s feeling shitty like that. He stands up covering his heavy head with the hoodie and moving towards the door. The neighbourhood bar was so fucking crowded. Which usually he’d hate with a passion, but at least he won't hear his disgusting thoughts. Letting himself sit at the end of the bar counter, so he can lean his shoulder on the wall, he raises his hand hoping that some bartender would notice him. Please no one talk to me, he begged in his mind, turning his face to his hands. While the crowd behind him sounded so damn noisy and excited about something. “Hi there, what can I get you?” Dazai stops his melancholical stare at his bandaged wrists and his long, thin fingers with cracked black nail polish. What a pathetic view it was. He then meets the attentive gaze of a pair of azure eyes. The man behind the counter was a short redhead, but he had the cutest… smile, didn't he? “So?” Dazai froze for a moment that felt like it lasted an eternity. “Whiskey, neat.” “Roger.” The redhead winked at him or… is he hallucinating again? Before the short bartender turned to pour the drink, Dazai managed to catch his name written on a shiny badge— Chuuya. “Here you go.” Are all bartenders obliged to have such a bright smile? Everything for a tip, huh? “Thanks.” The brunet whispers before finishing the drink in one go. He places the empty crystal glass in front of the chibi bartender who raises an eyebrow. “All right, I guess… You need another one?” He looks a bit concerned. Is it his first time meeting a heavy drinker? Hard to believe that he is a bartender for god's sake. “Please, Chuuya.” The redhead freezes just for a second at the quiet sound of his name before reaching for the bottle. The second drink follows the first one at a blink of an eye. “More, please.” “So you decided to get wasted on a Tuesday night, that’s… disturbing for someone your age.” Chuuya smirks, but deep inside he hopes the brunet (who looks so upset despite the emotionless gaze of his hazelnut eyes) would quit getting drunk on his shift. “I’m your age.” “And i'm sober.” “We can easily fix that.” A tiny hint of a smile appears on Dazai’s face, well hidden under the large hoody and stubborn brown curls. “I don’t drink with clients…. wearing ugly-ass hoodies.” The redhead shrugs. “Are you even allowed to talk like that?” Now it's Dazai’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Not entirely. But..” Chuuya points his finger at the brunet's chest while looking victoriously, “I'm allowed to refuse service to intoxicated customers! How does that sound to you?” “Oh God.” Dazai sighs, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t do that to me, Chuuya.” “And what makes you think that?” The bartender squints his eyes. “Well, I have money.” Dazai suddenly sounds so confident that Chuuya can’t help but laugh. “You do, don’t you? So go and buy some decent clothes!” “What’s wrong with my hoodie?” “Erm… it's hideous! Don’t you ever look in the mirror? The shiny thing above the bathroom sink?” “It belonged to my ex-boyfriend.” Crap. That was the wrong thing to say. “Oi, Chuuya, come here for a sec.” Someone calls, just in time to break the awkward silence between two boys. “Sorry, be right back.” Saying that, Chuuya headed to the colleague who needed a hand. Dazai didn’t hesitate even for a second to bend over the counter and reach for the bottle that the redhead left dangerously too close. Pouring himself a double, he leaves the bottle in its rightful place before emptying the glass. When Chuuya was finally done with whatever was needed from him and glanced at the end of the counter, the brunet was gone. He left enough money to buy a couple of bottles of the finest scotch. How generous of him. Dazai definitely needed fresh air, but finding himself on the empty street he only felt dizzy. And lonely. But fuck that. He was drunk, okay. His legs didn’t listen to him, so he barely made it to the building’s corner. Sitting down on the cold ground he leaned on the brick wall that belonged to the bar. “Well, you are screwed up.” He whispers to himself, and a crooked smile appears on his tired yet handsome face. It wasn't the first time he felt broken. actually, it was his usual state. But seeing pity in those azure eyes, when he shared unintentionally that he was dumped… he doesn’t need anyone to feel sorry for him. Especially not some random bartender. Lighting up a cigarette, he suddenly hears someone rushing out of the bar. The door was out of his sight, since he sat in the shadows of an empty alley. Chuuya, driven by some unknown force, untied his apron, threw it in the air and said “I’m done for today.” Deciding to end his shift an hour earlier. But now, looking down the street, he couldn’t see the stranger anywhere. That’s right, he didn't even get his name… He’s left with no choice, but go look for the brunet. If you ask him about the reasons, he won't answer you. At this exact moment the only thing he is sure of: he should find this person no matter what. The sooner the better. When Chuuya made a few steps away from the bar’s entrance, he caught some movement out of the side of his eyes. There was definitely someone in the dark alley. So the brunet did not run far away after all. Dazai was smoking, head tilted back on the cold surface of the building, brown curls moving slightly from the night wind. The hood finally off. “Oi, why did you leave?” The redhead approached slowly. “…same question goes for you.” The boy’s unfocused and emotionless gaze made Chuuya shiver. “My shift ended.” He sits down next to Dazai, pulling out his own cigarettes from the jeans pocket. “Whatever.” The brunet kept staring in front of him. “Anyway, why are you here?” Chuuya had an answer to this question. “You looked hurt.” Dazai laughs quietly. “And what made you think that?” He turns his head to meet the concern in azure eyes. “First things first, what’s your name?” “Yeah, you are right, first things first.” Dazai pauses. “I hate when people pity me, all right?” “Geez, another MR ‘I am so strong and confident and I don’t need anyone’s help’ yet is wearing his ex's clothes.” Dazai’s smile faded away immediately. “None of your business, Chibi.” “Don’t Chibi me! And answer my damn question!” “Oh, he can be angry, can’t he?” Dazai smirks yet admitting how cute the boy is. actually, way too cute for a bartender in some god forsaken bar. “You!” Chuuya grabs the brunet by his sweatshirt. “You have no clue how wrathful I can be!” Dazai sighs with joy glittering in his irises before raising both hands in a surrendering gesture. “All right, all right, calm down, would ya? My name is Dazai.” “So, Dazai.” Chuuya leaves the sweatshirt alone feeling the taste of the brunette's name on his tongue mixing with the smoke he was exhaling. “How about we burn the freaking sweatshirt and go grab something to eat?” “Well..” Dazai looked up considering the offer. Is he really ready to give up his past… his past month to be precise. Chuuya waited for a cocky comment, but the brunet stood up and took off the hoodie. He then threw it away indifferently with disdain in his eyes. But Chuuya… now, since the sweatshirt was gone, he couldn’t help but stare at the boy next to him. Dazai was tall. Tight black trousers over skinny legs, but before all else, loosened bandages covering both of his arms and neck, disappearing somewhere under a white oversized t-shirt. That’s… just… “Are you happy now?” Dazai whispered, still trying to figure out how he feels about the whole thing. Unsuccessfully. “Are you?” Putting out the cigarette, the redhead stands up as well. “Look, I get it, bartenders are supposed to be talkative and empathic, I guess. but I'm done with the smart talks, so let's call it a night.” Dazai waved his hand over his shoulder walking away. “You’re wrong.” Chuuya was surprised at how quiet his voice sounds, but it reaches the brunet’s ears. So he stops, turning his head back to the Chibi. “What now?” “I said. You are wrong, Dazai. It has nothing to do with bartenders and shit.” Chuuya closes the few meters that separates them, gazing firmly at his dark eyes. “I believe that hurt people must be taken care of and also..” he rubs his neck before he is ready to continue. And Dazai just stays there waiting. “And also, I don't think you are hurt from the break up alone.” Dazai suddenly smiles, for some reason. He is that weird, to smile during such serious talks, but Chuuya raises his hand, telling the boy to stay quiet. “I'm sorry for whatever happened to you, I really am.” The redhead purses his lips, making it clear he said what he intended. “And as I said earlier. I don't need you to…” “God, I have never ever met someone as stubborn as you, Dazai!” “I'm flattered.” Dazai makes one step closer, leaving barely any distance between them. That makes Chuuya raise his head to be able to look at the brunet’s eyes. He is Chibi after all (but he wouldn’t admit that at any cost). “It’s Osamu, actually.” Dazai murmurs as his hand slowly reaches for Chuuya’s copper hair. “Huh?” Chuuya freezes for a second time this evening. “My name. Dazai Osamu.” Those were his last words before lowering his head and covering Chuuya’s lips with his. Chibi blinked surprised for a moment, before feeling Dazai’s tongue gently brushing his lips. His eyes closed unintentionally, while his lips parted slowly, welcoming Dazai who pulled him closer, deepening the most gentle kiss. In this second, the world stopped turning for both of them. Chuuya drowns himself in this moment, feeling the taste of Dazai. And it was too damn good. The fading taste of whiskey mixed with the bitterness of cigarettes. He slowly moved his arms to Dazai’s shoulders. It's the best kiss he had for a long long time, so sue him, but he has the right to enjoy it. As for Dazai, he has no idea what will happen next, but want it or not, he is definitely attracted to this boy. Too attracted. Like being pulled by a strong magnet. And what’s not to love about this tiny human? His clear azure eyes, breathtaking copper hair— cut slightly unevenly— longer strands falling on the shoulder, his cute smirk and the way he talks. And so on and so on… But most of all, he for some reason cares about some drunk stranger. “You looked hurt.” No one ever said this to Dazai before. A single fuck wasn’t given about his whole existence. Not to talk about the way he feels. Otherwise, he wouldn’t cover himself up with meters and meters of bandages. Breaking the kiss, Dazai rests his forehead on Chuuya’s, with one hand still being in the softest copper hair and another on the redhead's lower back. “I should thank you, Chuuya.” He whispers while still keeping his eyes closed. “No idea what you are talking about.” Chuuya can’t help but smile. Is he reckless enough to kiss some drunk customer? Probably not. But he is reckless all right when it comes to saving a soul that cries for salvation. So he pulls away, grabbing Dazai’s hand. “C’mon, let's get you home, Dazai.” “Not sure if I'm able to let you go if we make it to my place.” The brunet smiles, and a delicate hint of light dances somewhere there within his dark irises. “Bold of you to think I might stay.” Chibi mirrors the smile. “Well, you’ll have to, see, I'm hurt.” Dazai raises his hand to his forehead in a dramatic and theatrical gesture. “I bet you are, c’mon, let's get going, it’s breezy and you are wearing just a t-shirt and…a white armor under it.” “About that.” Dazai grabs his lighter, throwing it to the abandoned sweatshirt. “See, it burns.” Chuuya hates to admit it, but the flame looked perfect. “Hey, Chuuya?” “Yes?” “Do you… by any chance mind redoing my nails while visiting? the polish is all cracked!” Dazai pouts suddenly. “That’s…” and Chuuya really didn’t know what to say. but, “you are a princess after all, aren’t you?” He smirks mindfully looking at Dazai’s cold fingers in his hand. “I take it as a yes!” “Yeaaah, so do I.” They left the alley holding hands and laughing. Dazai was sobering up and Chuuya was feeling tired after an 11h shift. And to be honest none of them had any idea that this evening marked the beginning of a pretty long journey they were not ready for. But it definitely was worth giving it a try.