Chapter Text
Oh shit, shit, I’m going to be so late.
Chuuya’s fast steps clatter to a halt as his eyes fall on a boy sobbing outside a cafe. Aside from the fact that he’s alone and obviously distressed, the boy looks entirely normal but the mere sight of him still forms a knot in Chuuya’s heart, tugging at it painfully. Chuuya doesn't understand why until the boy puts his hands down and looks around. Chuuya inhales sharply when he sees soft hazel eyes and the shadow of a man standing over the child. He begins to walk away but renewed sobs reach his ears and as much as this is something he really doesn’t want to be involved in, he really shouldn't just leave that kid alone in the middle of Paris.
He squats down in front of the boy and asks for his name in French. The boy looks confused as he takes a step backwards, lips quivering and eyes wide. Chuuya doesn't want to assume he’s Japanese because that’s kind of rude but he doesn't know any other Asian languages.
“Do you speak Japanese?” he tries anyway.
The boy’s eyes light up.
“You can speak Japanese?”
“That’s right,” Chuuya says with a smile, hoping that he’s emanating friendly and not creepy. “I’m Japanese. What are you doing here?”
That question brings forth a fresh stream of tears. “I can’t find my parents.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re – ” Chuuya grunts as the boy throws himself at him and wraps tiny arms around him. Chuuya can’t help but smile down at him. “There, there. I’m sure they’re looking for you.”
Chuuya gently detaches the boy from his body and holds his shoulders gently.
“I’m Chuuya. What’s your name?”
“Eiji.”
“Hey, Chuuya I’ve always thought the name Eiji was nice.”
“And why’s that?”
“It means forever.”
A smile blossoms on Chuuya’s face even as his heart wilts. It has been three years since he has left that life behind; it isn’t going to catch up to him now. It’s just pure coincidence. So is the brown hair. And hazel eyes. And name.
…
The boy’s a fucking miniature clone of his father – who is Chuuya trying to kid?
“Look, Eiji-kun, how about I – ” Something compels Chuuya to look up and he cuts himself off as he sees a familiar figure heading their way. Chuuya lets out a shuddering breath as he tears his eyes away, waxing quick. There’s now no mistaking who this boy is, who his father is. “Eiji-kun, I think your parents will be here soon. I have to go.”
“Wait – ”
But Chuuya doesn't as he lets go of the child and moves in the opposite direction of his intended destination. He hears rushed footsteps behind him and he increases his speed. It takes all of his willpower to not turn around when he hears a happy call of papa.
Come on, it’s too beautiful a day for this.
It’s only when he’s a few streets away that Chuuya finally pauses. He hadn’t even realised that he has been panting as he leans against the wall and lets out a long, shaky breath as he tries to calm his frazzled nerves.
Stop. Paris is big. That was a one-time thing. You won’t see him again. You’re fine. It’s been years.
So why does it feel like just yesterday that he was walking into Serendipity?
Chuuya shakes his head to clear his mind of black coffees and hazelnut lattes. Bile rises up his throat and he slams the back of his head against the wall. He needs to stop. He’s being ridiculous. He has his own life now, and, clearly, Dazai has gotten his shit together too. Vacationing with his family – they must be real happy.
But why the hell did they have to pick Paris?
Dazai knows that Chuuya would be here. Where else could he have gone? Dazai knows that Kouyou is here and he knows that Chuuya is in love with this city. Couldn't he have picked Rome or something?
Chuuya’s phone rings, starling him and he curses himself for being so affected by such a small thing.
“Fyodor,” Chuuya says into his phone.
“Chuuya? Is everything okay? You sound anxious.”
“I’m fine,” Chuuya says, internally cursing himself when he realises that he’s a good twenty minutes late. “I’m just rushing to the restaurant now. I was working on a piece and lost track of time. I’m so sorry.”
Chuuya pushes himself off the wall and hurries towards his meeting point with Fyodor though he chooses a different route.
Fyodor chuckles. “There’s no need to apologise, you workaholic. You need to remember to rest.”
“Can’t help that I love what I’m doing,” Chuuya shoots back, a smile already on his face. Fyodor always manages to cheer him up with just a few words. “Well, since you’re already there, could you help me order – ”
“Confit de Canard?”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“Not that I want to assume but I just thought you’d want it because, and I quote, this dish has carved out a duck shaped hole in my heart.”
“Stop it!” Chuuya says in between peals of laughter. “I was drunk.”
“For once, you weren’t.”
“Hey, you keep this up, and I’m turning right back around.”
“I ordered a glass of red Bordeaux to go with it.”
“Give me five minutes.”
Fyodor laughs. “Take your time, silly. I’m going to hang up now; be careful.”
“Yes, dad.”
Chuuya hangs up on the sound of Fyodor’s laughter, a beam etched on his face. It doesn't leave his face even when he reaches the restaurant and slides into the seat opposite Fyodor. He pouts and reaches out to hold his hand.
“Sorry I’m so late.”
“A waiter came to ask me if I was alright at one point. It must have looked like I was a pathetic man waiting on a date who’s never going to show, but I forgive you.”
“I’m sure she was just trying to hit on you,” Chuuya says with a laugh, a smile settling back onto his face naturally when Fyodor grasps his hand as well.
*
“Papa?”
Dazai comes back to himself at the sound of his son’s voice. Eiji is looking up at him curiously and it’s only then that Dazai realises that he has stopped walking. Dazai smiles down at his soon. “What’s up?”
“Are you okay? You look sad.”
Dazai looks back into the restaurant, at the scene that had caused him to freeze unknowingly.
He looks happy.
And what were you expecting? For him to be pining after you? That’s too selfish even for you, isn’t it?
“Papa?”
“I’m fine,” Dazai replies as he bends down to speak to his son. “Shall we go look for mama? I think we lost her back in the Louis Vuitton store.”
Eiji nods and giggles when Dazai picks him up. As he heads towards the boutique, Dazai spares a glance behind and sees the sweetest smile on Chuuya’s face directed at the man seating opposite him. That smile used to be directed at him, and that thought is an arrow to the heart. Dazai forces himself to tear his eyes away from the scene. He doesn't deserve that smile. He hasn't for a very long time now.
*
“So I’ll be back as soon as the meeting is over,” Kouyou says as she grabs her files and bag.
“So you said,” Chuuya replies as he leans back in his chair, holding a pen between his two index fingers. “A hundred times.”
Kouyou glares at him.
“I am not ten,” Chuuya retorts.
“Behave,” Kouyou says with a smirk before she leaves and Chuuya rolls his eyes. What could possibly go wrong?
Apparently, the universe has something against him. Chuuya gets called down to the boutique because a customer absolutely loves his designs and wishes to have a dress custom made for her. It’s fantastic news and Chuuya’s grinning until he enters the store.
Hazel eyes, always so tender and fond when directed at him, hold him captive. A prisoner in his own body, his heart a lock. Chuuya stares at the man standing before him and it's as if the world has fallen away, carving out a time and space for only the two of them. It had always felt like he was the only one who existed in the universe whenever Dazai looked at him like that in the past. It still does.
Just as it always feels as if the world is pressing against him, screaming into his ears that it’s catching up to him now.
Dazai’s eyes are chocolate warm, just like Chuuya remembers and he forgets to catch his next breath. It feels like he's reliving all those years that they have spent together again and it's crazy how so many emotions, ranging from happy to sad to anger to longing, all hit him at once. But god it has been years. He shouldn't feel anything anymore right? Yet, Chuuya still has to battle that same burning urge to touch that man’s face, to affirm that he's real, to affirm that he's right there in front of him.
Oh gosh, Chuuya, stop.
And yet he continues staring into soft hazel orbs that stares right back at him. He’s so stupid, so stupid to think that he could have ever been freed from its clutches. He wishes he felt something painful. He wishes this were like moths plunging into flames. But it's not. All he feels is familiar warmth, a fireplace in winter, deep in the pits of his heart.
“Papa, that's the man who found me the other day!”
Chuuya snaps out of his trance and immediately feels like slapping himself. Scratch that – he feels like throwing himself in front of a car because, god, Dazai has a child now. A living, breathing child that isn’t a terrifying concept anymore; it’s a terrifying reality. Wasn't the reason he left in the first place? He couldn't be the reason for Dazai's family to break up back then and he sure as hell won't be the reason now.
“Eiji-kun,” Chuuya greets lightly before he smiles at Dazai politely. Oh, how it hurts to smile so. His muscles strain under the effort but he manages to say in what he hopes is a joking tone, “you need to look after your child better, sir.”
Dazai looks pained at the obvious distance that Chuuya has chosen to put between them but he smiles nonetheless. It looks as painfully stretched as Chuuya's. There's a poignant sorrow in his eyes as he says, “I tend to always lose what matters most.”
Chuuya swallows the lump in his throat, the implication in that sentence clearer than stars on a cloudless night. “Then you should pay better attention. You're his parent for heaven's sake. You shouldn't be so negligent.”
“Don't scold papa, Chuuya-san,” Eiji says softly, “I got distracted and ran off on my own. Papa was just talking to mama on the phone... he didn't mean to lose me...”
Dazai bends down to comfort his child and Chuuya feels like the worst person in the universe. What right does he have to reprimand Dazai in front of his child? And now the poor child is crying too.
Chuuya approaches father and son and squats before them. He catches a whiff of familiar cologne - how dare Dazai still wear the brand he gave to him all those years ago? - and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm his racing, treacherous heart. For all that it helps though, since each lungful of air only servers as an aching reminder of all the sweet times they have spent wrapped in each other's arms and also of the bitter times they have spent glancing at each other longingly across the table in Serendipity, coveting each other's touch yet forbidden from doing anything but talk and laugh. Chuuya turns away and coughs slightly. When he's confident that the tears won't spill, he turns back to the boy with a smile.
“Eiji-kun, I'm sorry. I just got carried away. Your dad's a good father and I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose.”
Yes. Dazai's a good father. He might be a shitty... whatever he is – was – to Chuuya and even a shitty husband but he's a good father. He made the decision to stay and look after his family; he made the decision to let Chuuya go. Chuuya wishes he could say that makes him happy. In a way, it does because he truly did want Dazai to be a good man to his family, but at the same time, saying that he's happy that Dazai let him go is nothing but a facetious lie to help him sleep at night, to let him believe that he was a good person for not breaking Dazai's family up.
“Eiji,” a voice calls out and this day just officially became the worst day of Chuuya’s life.
If seeing Dazai and his miniature copy made him uneasy and itchy all over, seeing Dazai's wife makes him want to throw himself into the sea. Eiji runs straight into his mother's waiting arms and her eyes cut deeply into Chuuya's as she lifts her son off the ground.
Takahashi Miya is a beautiful and intelligent woman with a sharp eye and sharper wits. Chuuya and Dazai had tried their best to keep their meetings a secret from her – after all, it’s the reason why Chuuya would get up an hour earlier every day just to have breakfast at a café so far away from both Dazai’s office and his house – but Chuuya has no doubt in his mind that she has been in the know all along.
Takahashi turns her attention to her child and murmurs some words to him softly. Chuuya's acutely aware that Dazai's eyes are on him instead of his wife and child and he wants to punch him in the face but ignoring him is the best way to go.
“Osamu,” Takahashi says and the familiar way she calls him really stings more than it should. “Can you take Eiji out for a walk? I wish to have a talk with Nakahara-san regarding the design I would like to order.”
“Miya – ” Dazai starts but a simple look silences him. Chuuya would have thought it bizarre that Dazai could be so easily subdued if the same look wouldn’t have silenced Chuuya too. After all, which decent being would dare look at someone that they have hurt so profusely in the eye and deny them of any request? Dazai smiles tersely and holds his hand out. “Come, Eiji. Mama has business with Nakahara-san.”
If Miya calling Dazai by his first name stung, then Dazai referring to him as Nakahara-san feels like someone is trying to rip his heart out.
“I'll take you to that macaroon shop you wanted to go to just now.”
Eiji whoops in joy as he grabs his father's hand, and Dazai laughs as he carries his son into his arms. Chuuya watches them chat in merry tones as they leave the office with an unexplainable pang in his heart. They seem happy. It's only when the door closes behind them that he realises that Takahashi had been watching him watch them.
Chuuya resists the urge to close his eyes and start banging his head against the wall.
“Are you thinking that in another universe they could be your family?” she asks with a thin smile.
Chuuya curses himself internally before placing on the most professional smile he can muster.
“Takahashi-san, of course not,” he says politely.
“It’s Dazai-san,” she says, not unkindly, though her lavender eyes are hard.
That simple statement reveals what a terrible person Chuuya truly is; Takahashi shouldn't have to remind him of that. Chuuya grits his teeth and refuses to let the smile fall. He owes her that and so much more.
“I apologise, Dazai-san.”
She stares at him for a moment before her face breaks out into a sweet smile. “Oh, Chuuya, we haven't seen each other for so long. Is that how you greet an old friend? Of course that was a joke!”
She laughs and Chuuya's heart is ripped into a million pieces. Yes, they were friends. They attended the same university. She had asked him whether it was all right to date Dazai. Granted, he had been confused but he had still said yes. He and Dazai should have never… he shouldn’t have… he had thought that avoiding her all those years would lessen the guilt that he felt. It did but it didn't make his crime any less serious.
“Chuuya, are you okay? You look really pale,” Takahashi says with a frown.
“I’m fine, Miya,” he replies. “It’s just the weather. Winter is Paris is different from Tokyo.”
“Is it really?” Takahashi asks as she looks out the shop window. “There must be something wrong with me because they feel equally cold to me. Ah, I even feel cold in summer. I must be really weak.”
Chuuya swallows thickly. Words are failing him and his brain is more interested in trying to find a way to escape this situation. In the end, it’s Takahashi who saves him by chuckling and asking if there’s anywhere they could talk about her dress. Chuuya leads her to the office upstairs and honestly it feels a lot more intimidating to be in an enclosed space with her. They had never interacted one on one before; they were friends but they were never close.
“Take a seat,” Chuuya says as he gesture to his desk. “I’ll make some tea.”
“Chamomile, please, if you have any,” she says.
“Sure thing,” Chuuya replies before he all but runs into the pantry.
Once he’s out of Takahashi’s sight, Chuuya presses himself against the wall and wills his knees not to give out on him. His breaths come out in harsh intervals and his heart bangs against his ribcage, demanding to be let out. Chuuya digs his fingers into his thighs and screams at himself to calm down.
This is just like any other appointment. All she wants is a dress. You do this every day. Just get a grip on yourself and do it, Nakahara Chuuya.
But it still feels like an army of fire ants is crawling under his skin and pinches his thighs harshly in order to quell his overwhelming feelings. He paces around the pantry for a few minutes, his fingers digging harshly into his flesh, before he finally starts to calm down. He takes in deep breaths as he starts making the tea. Once he feels in control, he places the cups onto a tray and brings it out.
“Sorry for the wait,” he says as he places a mug in front of her, “there was no hot water.”
“It’s alright,” she says with a smile though her piercing eyes seem to tell him that she knows what the truth really is.
Chuuya sits down opposite her and discreetly pinches his thigh again.
Relax. Breathe.
“You’re a really talented designer, Chuuya,” Takahashi says as she gestures to some of his uncompleted works spread out on his desk. “I love your designs. There’s just something about them that brings the clothing to life.”
“Thank you, Miya, but you’re really too kind.”
“I’m only speaking the truth! I heard you were really successful in Japan. Why did you decide to leave?”
Chuuya smiles and pinches his thigh again, this time slightly harder. “My sister, Kouyou, needed my help.”
“Oh, and here I was thinking there’s some other reason.”
Chuuya laughs and it sounds fake even to his ears. “What other reason can there be?”
“Well, your decision came awfully soon after my pregnancy was announced,” Takahashi says as she takes a sip of tea. Chuuya blinks and tilts his head slightly, acting clueless even as he squeezes his thigh yet again. Takahashi laughs lightly. “You probably knew we were going to make you design a bunch of baby clothing, right? That’s why you had to run.”
Takahashi laughs, her tone crystal clear, a vivid contrast against Chuuya’s murky, forced laughter. He can’t decide if she’s really joking or if every sentence is a planned attacked because it certainly feels like the latter, not that he blames her for it. If he were in her position, he’s quite sure that he would do a lot worse.
“Oh, Chuuya, Osamu was so depressed after you left. It looked like he had all but given up all thoughts of living, but I had never seen him so happy as he did the day Eiji was born.”
“Dazai always did want to be a father,” Chuuya says automatically, purposefully ignoring the rest of the things she said.
“Oh? And how do you know that?” Takahashi asks and though her tone is airy, the look in her eyes can cut diamonds. “I was under the impression that you two didn't talk much after we graduated, which is why I thought it strange that he seemed so depressed that you had decided to leave.”
“He told me about it in high school,” Chuuya says and at least that isn’t a lie.
“He was probably upset that you didn't even bother to say goodbye,” Takahashi carries on as if Chuuya hadn’t spoken.
Chuuya knows that she’s referring to the fact that he didn't inform anyone of his decision (well, except Atsushi) but what he thinks of is how empty he had felt that morning at the airport as he typed a goodbye message over and over again; a message that was never sent.
“It was a really rushed decision,” Chuuya states calmly despite feeling as if his internal organs are attempting to rearrange themselves. Chuuya takes a sip of his tea and squeezes his other thigh with his free hand. He’s aware of Takahashi watching him and he forces himself to act naturally as he puts the cup back onto the table.
“Something terrible happened to Yukari. You remember her, right?”
Chuuya nods. She’s Dazai’s friend. Oda had been in love with her but she had been with someone else.
“Her husband cheated on her.”
Chuuya freezes momentarily before he coughs into his hand. He’s sure that he would have spit the tea out if he had drunk it or dropped the mug. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to fake his surprise. Yukari and Hiro had been very much in love.
“Is that so? That’s so hard to believe.”
“Almost as hard to believe as the thought of Osamu cheating, right?”
Chuuya can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his chest and escapes his mouth. He just barely manages to stop himself from collapsing into a laughing fit. He’s torn between screaming at her and telling her to get lost, and groveling on the floor to beg for her forgiveness. At this point, throwing himself off the building seems to be the easiest option. Takahashi’s lips thin into a smile and Chuuya prays to god that she doesn’t think he’s laughing at her for being oblivious about her husband being a cheating bastard or that he’s laughing at her for stealing her husband away from her.
“Yes, I suppose it does sound like a joke,” she says softly. “Osamu isn’t that kind of man.”
Chuuya wants to say that Dazai isn’t. But the thought that comes to him is, no, he wouldn't cheat on me.
And Chuuya knows in that moment that he’s going to burn in hell.
“Well, Yukari eventually settled the case out of court though Hiro and that woman aren’t allowed to come into contact with or talk to each other anymore. At least she managed to save her family. She has two children you know.”
Chuuya wonders if that’s a threat. He smiles at her. “That’s good to know. I hope Hiro has learnt his mistake.”
“Oh, he has. He’s more doting than ever and I feel envious at times.” Takahashi leans forward and when she looks at Chuuya this time, he sees genuine sincerity and a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “Everyone deserves second chances, don’t they, Chuuya?”
Is this forgiveness? Or is Takahashi begging him to let Dazai go?
Chuuya lets out a soft sigh. “I guess they do, Miya.”
Takahashi pulls back. “They do, Chuuya.”
A few moments of silence lapses and Chuuya speaks up before it starts to get awkward.
“So why do you want to order a dress?”
“Our anniversary is coming up and I want the dress to be special this time,” Takahashi answers as her lips curve into a smile. “It’s our ten year anniversary after all.”
The information sends a jolt of shock through Chuuya. He knows that Dazai has been married for a long time – the man had gotten married right after he graduated from university after all, but Chuuya had never registered that it has already been a decade. Well, there’s also the fact that he had spent most of his time actively trying not to think about the fact that Dazai’s married.
“Shocking, right?” Takahashi asks and there’s a peculiar poignant touch to her voice. “That it has already been so long. Strange how some things can last for such a long time and how some things can just fall apart in a blink of an eye.”
“Indeed,” Chuuya replies before he quickly changes the topic. “Do you have anything in mind?”
“I was thinking of something in lavender and maybe having spring as the theme,” Takahashi says excitedly, her demeanour a complete contrast from before. “I saw your winter designs in the boutique and I’m in love.”
Chuuya smiles at her, feeling guilty for feeling happy. “I think lavender is excellent. It’ll bring out the colour of your eyes.”
*
Kouyou decided to go straight home after the meeting because she claimed that it was vicious. Chuuya’s actually glad because all she needs to do is take one look at him to know that something had happened and he really isn’t prepared to tell her about his day and the fact that Dazai is in the same city as them.
Chuuya had spent the rest of the day sketching out a design for Takahashi’s dress and he’s really pleased with it. Truth be told, it was kind of cathartic to be able to do something nice for her. It definitely eases his guilt a little and he’s planning on gifting it to her as an anniversary present.
Chuuya shivers as he finishes locking up the office and steps out into the night. It’s a lot colder that night and Chuuya hadn’t even realised how late it had gotten. Regardless, he feels a lot better than he did that morning and his relatively good mood would have persisted had he not turned around and saw the person that he most dreaded to see.
Dazai hadn’t seen him. The man is standing across the road, his back against the wall and his head turned to the right as he looks down the street. Chuuya really should take the opportunity to leave but his legs have decided to be utterly useless and when amber eyes lock onto his own, Chuuya finds himself rooted to the spot. Dazai isn’t moving either.
A car drives past and the movement and sound snap Chuuya out of it and he curses himself as he turns and starts to walk down the street. Hopefully, Dazai would take a hint. Obviously, Dazai doesn’t. He hears footsteps approaching and tries to ignore it though his heart stops when he hears a car horning. He whips around to see Dazai apologising to the driver before he steps onto the pavement. Chuuya storms up to him.
“Are you an idiot?” he hisses furiously.
Dazai takes a step forward, his arms already up and ready to pull Chuuya into an embrace. Standing this close to Dazai really makes Chuuya want to forget about everything and just fall into his arms. But they both turn away and take a step backwards at the same time.
They’ve made too many mistakes.
“Have you…” and Chuuya closes his eyes as that low voice caresses his ear gently. Dazai licks his lips. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” Chuuya lies. He doesn't feel hungry anyway.
“Do you… do you want to go for a drink?”
“No.”
“How about – ”
“Most places are close. If you want to do some sight-seeing, you should do them tomorrow. With you family,” Chuuya snaps as he wraps his arms around himself. It’s so damned cold and standing out here having this farce of a civil conversation isn’t helping.
Dazai lets out a frustrated sigh as he runs his hand through his hair. Chuuya hates it when he does that. His hair ends up falling so messily all over his face and he gets that helpless yet dark look in his eyes. He almost looks deranged. It almost feels like it’s Chuuya’s fault.
“Chuuya – ”
“I need to go. Goodnight.”
Dazai grabs Chuuya’s arm and pulls him back. The action is too sudden and harsh and Chuuya almost falls but Dazai grabs him around the waist and pulls him close to him to prevent that from happening. Chuuya turns to glare up at Dazai, ready to unleash a whole day’s worth of repressed vexations on him, but the words melt away as he realises how close they are. He can see the gradient of brown in Dazai’s eyes and he can taste Dazai’s breath on his lips. He feels like a parched man who has found water after wandering a vast desert for weeks.
Alas, it’s only a mirage.
Chuuya twists himself out of Dazai’s hold and shoves the man’s chest, causing Dazai to stumble. He feels his heart skip a beat but Dazai manages to stand.
“Leave,” Chuuya snarls anyway.
He doesn't wait for Dazai to say anything before he turns and walks away. Again, the sound of footsteps reaches his ears and Chuuya wants to scream at Dazai. He whirls around and jabs a finger in Dazai’s face.
“Do you not understand Japanese?!”
Dazai’s face hardens but his eyes are soft as he asks, “are you happy, Chuuya?”
Chuuya hates the way Dazai makes him feel just by saying his name. He hates how Dazai says it with all the care in the world as if it’s a precious gem that he wears over his heart. He hates how it makes him feel as if he can just hide away in Dazai’s arms and not face the world if he doesn’t want to. He hates how it tastes of coffee, bitter and sweet.
“I am,” Chuuya says through gritted teeth even as he dies a little more on the inside. He pauses as he watches Dazai’s face slowly lift into a small, genuine smile. His voice cracks as he asks, “are you?”
“I’m very happy, Chuuya,” Dazai says quietly.
“Good,” Chuuya says, feeling all the emotions drain out of him at that simple admission. “That’s good.”
This time, when he starts to walk away, Dazai doesn’t call after him. And when he steals a glance backwards, all he sees is the distance between them growing bigger as Dazai walks away from him as well.
Good. This is good.
He turns away and misses the way Dazai pauses and turns around to look at him.
*
After a drink or two, Chuuya ends up at Fyodor’s apartment and he spends a good five minutes loitering outside because he doesn’t want to interrupt the man at this time of the night. He jumps when his phone rings and he sees Fyodor’s caller ID. The door swings open and Fyodor raises an eyebrow.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“I… did you know I was here all along?”
“No, I just wanted to check in on you and I heard your phone ringing.” Fyodor raises an eyebrow as a smirk comes onto his face. “Missed me that badly, huh?”
Chuuya rolls his eyes as he pushes the man back into his apartment. “Shut up.”
“No, really, what are you doing here?” Fyodor asks, concern tingeing his eyes and voice.
Chuuya laughs as he drops his bag on the floor and unwraps his scarf, letting it and his coat drop onto the floor as well as he walks over to Fyodor. He wraps his arms around the man’s neck and smirks at him.
“Well, I really did miss you,” he murmurs before he pulls the man down into a kiss.
Fyodor responds eagerly as he wraps his arms around Chuuya, pulling the smaller man closer to him.
Please, please make me forget about him.