Curate, connect, and discover
chuuya, when he finally gets his own car (he's known how to drive for ages now, but hasn't been allowed to unless necessary), marching over to dazai and forcing him inside. all smug and excited—"get the fuck in, dazai!!"—absolutely elated that he's the older one. rolling down the windows and turning the radio up all the way, annoying every building they pass as they speed through the entire city in minutes. fuck the red lights, and fuck the stop signs—they're laughing almost hysterically the entire time, and chuuya's clutching onto his hat because more than once it flies out the window. dazai's trying to stay calm and be the mature one but chuuya's smiles are infectious, and soon enough he's shouting off-key along with the music, flipping off anyone they pass, and skipping through the stations just to irritate chuuya—except chuuya's nearly doubled over in laughter, struggling to maintain control over the car and himself. they come home at 1am, with texts and calls from their superiors because their mission reports are late, and where the fuck are they, and answer the damn phone, but neither of them could care, stumbling into someone's apartment (is it chuuya's, or dazai's, or someone else's entirely?), giggling the whole way through. "we're doing this again when you get a car, mackerel," chuuya bites out, knocking dazai over to grab himself some water. dazai agrees silently, rolling his eyes and picking himself back up. "just try not to lose your hat when it happens, then," he calls back, with chuuya's hat in his hand and a panicked chuuya reaching up to his head to find it.