Work Text:
Dazai is late.
It’s surprisingly warm out for a December afternoon, especially considering the fact that the sun is already starting to set, but the wind from the harbour still stings with its chill. Chuuya shivers, pulling his leather jacket tighter around himself. He’s leaning against the wall next to the door of the building Dazai sent him the address of, which turned out to be a convention centre. What exactly they could be doing here, Chuuya has no idea.
He’s been here twenty fucking minutes already. He even showed up five minutes early, because he’s a considerate person who isn’t late for things. Unlike some people he could mention.
“Chuuya! You actually came!”
Think of the devil and he shall appear. Dazai is walking toward him, two Starbucks cups in hand. He’s wearing a white turtleneck under a tan bomber jacket, and his fitted black pants look so good on him that Chuuya wants to punch him just for that.
He makes a face. “Yeah, and you’re late, asshole.”
“You made me wait three weeks,” he says. “It’s only fair of you to wait ten minutes for me.”
“Fifteen,” Chuuya snaps. “And it’s cold out.”
Dazai shrugs. “I don’t control the weather. Maybe you should have worn a warmer coat.”
“Maybe you should remember that you’re not a customer right now and there’s nothing stopping me from kicking you in the head.”
“Other than your height,” Dazai says, and laughs at the murderous expression on Chuuya’s face. “Here,” he says, holding out one of the cups. “Boring, bitter black coffee for boring, bitter Chuuya.”
“Asshole,” he mumbles. He takes the cup and it takes all of his willpower to force out a grudging thank you . He takes a sip. It’s infuriatingly good. “What are we even doing today, anyway?”
“We,” says Dazai, stepping past him to open the door of the building, “are going to the Gingerbread Village.”
Chuuya freezes. “The what ?”
“You heard me. I’ve already succeeded in part one of my mission - getting you to go on a date with me. May as well get to work on part two.”
“First of all, I told you this isn’t a date, so fuck you. And second, you’re not going to get me to like Christmas by tricking me into coming to a fucking Gingerbread Village . What does that even entail?”
He pulls the door further open, grinning. “Only one way to find out, wouldn’t you say?”
Chuuya glares at him a moment, seriously considering just turning around and going home. “I’m going to kill you for this,” he says finally, brushing past Dazai into the warmth of the building.
“I should start keeping a tally of every time you threaten me. That’s already two in less than five minutes.”
“Shut up, douchebag.”
Inside the building looks like Christmas threw up all over the place. The hallway off the entrance is lined with Christmas trees on one side, each decorated with a different theme or colour scheme. On the other side is a row of giant plastic candy canes amidst a mess of what Chuuya guesses is meant to look like snow, but really just looks like a pile of white candy floss. Worse even than that is the Christmas music. It seems like it’s coming from the walls themselves. He’s never understood why every single public space feels the need to bombard him with Christmas music as soon as December hits. It’s not even good music.
It’s giving Chuuya a headache.
“I hope you know how much I hate you right now,” Chuuya mutters.
“And yet you’re here with me,” Dazai says. “Funny how that works out.”
If looks could kill , Chuuya thinks, Dazai would be dead about a million times over . He wouldn’t have even survived their first meeting. He would have dropped like a fly over a fire the instant he ordered an extra sweet gingerbread latte.
“I can feel you staring at me,” Dazai says. “What’s wrong? Falling for me already?”
“You wish,” he snorts. “I’m trying to decide what would be the best way to kill you.”
“Poison is always a good option,” he says casually. “Easy to cover up. But don’t go getting any ideas. If I die, it’ll be by my own hand.”
“If?”
“If.”
Chuuya shakes his head. “You’re exhausting.”
“Thank you.”
They round a corner and the hall opens up into a large room that’s somehow even more disgustingly Christmassy. There’s more trees lining the walls (how many trees are in this fucking place?), and the centre is taken up by three long tables. Each table is full of gingerbread houses.
But, Chuuya realizes, house isn’t necessarily the word for most of them. Gingerbread castles maybe, or gingerbread architectural anomalies . They’re so huge and elaborate that it’s hard to believe they’re made out of cookies.
“What is this?” He can’t keep the wonder out of his own voice. How could he? He’s never seen anything like it before.
Dazai grins. “Welcome to the Gingerbread Village,” he says. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Impressive is putting it mildly. It’s one of the coolest things Chuuya has ever seen in his life.
He feels Dazai’s eyes on him, and his face flushes. “Whatever,” he mumbles. “It’s not that impressive.”
He laughs. “Okay, Grinch Chuuya. Let’s walk through, and if you can still tell me you don’t find it impressive, and make me believe you, I’ll never make you do anything Christmassy again.”
Chuuya narrows his eyes. “Including making you gingerbread lattes?”
He hesitates, and Chuuya can see the indecision in his eyes. Finally, with the air of someone making a great sacrifice, he nods. “Including making me gingerbread lattes,” he says. He holds out a hand to shake, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Deal?”
Chuuya takes his hand with a grin. “Deal.”
“So what do you do when you’re not working at Starbucks?” Dazai asks. They’re strolling leisurely through the Village, stopping every now and then to look more closely at one of the more impressive creations. Chuuya’s favourite so far has been a remarkably realistic rendition of Lupin, his favourite local bar. He had to take a picture of that one, and he pointedly ignored Dazai’s smug look.
“What do you mean?” he asks. He points at a tiny candy dog in the front lawn of the gingerbread house they’re in front of. “That’s cute.”
Dazai hums in agreement. “I mean, what are your hobbies? Do you do anything aside from work?”
He shrugs. “Not really. I mean, aside from music, I guess.”
“You play? What instrument?”
“A few. Guitar, drums, piano - violin, a little bit, but less now since I don’t have one anymore. And I sing.” He pauses at a gingerbread recreation of the ice castle from Frozen. “What is that even made of?”
Dazai looks at the icy blue detailing, and shrugs. “Isomalt, probably. It’s not too hard to work with if you know what you’re doing, which this person clearly didn’t; see the yellowing? They probably used tap water instead of distilled. Rookie mistake.”
Chuuya blinks. “How do you know that?”
Dazai shrugs again. “So, you sing? D’you ever perform?”
“Sometimes,” he says. “At bars, for extra cash. But we’re not done talking about your weird baking knowledge.”
“What’s more to say? I run a bakery.”
“You run a bakery ?” Chuuya gapes. “How old are you?”
Dazai tilts his head. “How old do you think I am?”
“Well now I have no idea.”
He laughs. “I’m twenty two.”
“You’re the same age as me, and you already run a bakery?”
“Yep.” He sips his drink. “Not a huge one, obviously. It’s pretty much just me and Kunikida, and the university kid I hired last month, but we do alright. Oh, hey this one’s pretty neat.” He points at the next gingerbread house on the table, a classic log cabin with an ( isomalt , Chuuya guesses) ice rink in the front, complete with two tiny skating figures.
Chuuya shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you run a bakery.”
“I can’t believe you’re so fixated on this, chibi. It’s not a big deal.” He grins. “But it’s sweet that you’re so invested in my life.”
Chuuya’s face flushes. “Don’t get the wrong idea, asshole.”
“Hmm, and what would that idea be? That you’re interested in my life?” He leans in close to Chuuya with a shit eating grin. “Or maybe that you’re interested in me?”
He pushes Dazai’s face away with a hand. “You fucking wish.”
It’s fully dark out by the time they step back outside, at least two hours later.
“So,” Dazai says, holding the door open for Chuuya. “Still think it’s not that impressive?”
Chuuya looks away. “Oh, shut up.”
“Guess you'll be making me more gingerbread lattes after all~."
"Not if I kill you first."
Dazai laughs. "Which one was your favourite?”
He doesn’t even hesitate to answer. “Lupin,” he says immediately. “The bar.”
“And why’s that?”
He shrugs. “It’s my favourite one. I play there most often.”
Dazai’s smile turns mischievous. “Interesting.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why the fuck are you smiling like that?”
“No reason,” he says in a singsong voice. “I just think it’s funny that your favourite one is the one I made. That’s all.”
“It - you - what ?”
He laughs. “I’m flattered, Chuuya, really.”
Chuuya grits his teeth. “Now that I think about it, I actually liked that isomalt one better. Much more impressive.”
“Wah! Chuuya is so mean!”
21/12 - 10:36pm
i had fun today, chuuya! let's do this again sometime~~
shut up idiot
22/12 - 2:29am
im free on tuesday
if you make me do something christmassy again ill destroy you
no promises~!