CataclysmicEvent

Dazai's eyes narrow slightly. Across the room, there's this...this person .

'What the fuck did you do?'

And, well. That's a great question.

"...Do you two know each other?"

Dazai recognizes him. Just looking at him makes his stomach do tiny little backflips.

Chuuya would argue that he's generally a pretty reasonable person. Everyone always tells him that he's a nice guy. Pleasant. Fun to be around. But one thing about him—something Dazai doesn't really know—he has a temper.

"I don't give a damn what you're going through, or how repressed and closeted you are," each word hits Dazai like a knife, but he does a pretty good job at hiding it. "It's not my problem. Maybe get a therapist next time, okay?"

“Cool,” Yuan snorts, rolling her eyes, “you’re a masochist.”

“No,” Chuuya flops back down on her bed. “I just don’t like avoiding things just because I’m scared.”

"I'm sorry, it was my first time kissing a guy, it was a weird moment for me—”

"Yeah, well it was my first time kissing anyone.”

Dazai pauses, his mouth forming a perfect, 'O' as he looks Chuuya over.

No.

No fucking way.

Technically, Dazai has never had a home cooked meal in his life.

But god, he really doesn't feel it, because outside of his older brother...There's literally no one else for him to ask.

That never really felt like a big deal before. He's not sure why it does now

"I think..." Dazai's slurring a little, his eyes going in and out of focus, and Chuuya—for the next several months is going to blame what he says next on the fever—because he couldn't actually mean it. "If I was dating you, I'd...want everyone to know."

"I'm not gay."

"...I never said that you were—"

"But if I was," Dazai cuts him off, "you would be my first..." he winces as his migraine stabs against his temples, "choice."