(no subject)

[Dazai, of course, knows when Chuuya's birthday is. He celebrates in his own way--rigged wine bottles sent via crate, a watch that runs just slightly too slow, things like that. Underneath them, there's an actual gift that Chuuya might keep, if he wants to; the watch can be fixed, and it's a nice one (don't ask where Dazai got it), the wine is expensive as long as the trap isn't triggered (don't ask where he got that, either). This year, he's taken the liberty of breaking into Chuuya's apartment himself, bringing with him a decent bottle of wine that he's already had a few generous sips of. How many birthdays has Chuuya celebrated since Dazai has known him? Dazai had thought he'd be dead far before this one, but here he is.

He knows Chuuya will be home soon, lounges easily on his couch with his coat draped over the back of it. He's not going to hide and jump out of the cupboard this time; Dazai is too old for childish tricks like that. At least, today. Ah, youth; he remembers giving Chuuya an exploding pen one year, back when they were still in the mafia together. The ink never came out of that stupidly expensive shirt he was wearing.

The lights are off, because this is a surprise, right? (Not really, Chuuya will know immediately.) So he sit in the almost-dark, takes another drink from the bottle of wine. Dazai has never understood the difference between cheap wine and expensive wine, figuring that whatever gets you drunk the fastest must be the best. Chuuya, on the other hand, will appreciate it. Or so he says. Dazai still isn't sure it's not all an act to pretend he's more cultured and less of an idiot than he actually is.

But honestly? Waiting is kind of boring. He needs something to do, and there's still most of the bottle left.]