Work Text:
Your head throbbed with a dull sting as you carried your aching back to sit upright on the bed. Rubbing your eyes in exhaustion, a sharp sigh escaped your lips. You had a long week, and the missions the boss sent you on weren't easy ones. As one of the Port Mafia Executives, the number of reports you had to write and dirty tasks you had to deal with were numerous, but it seemed as if the pressure that initially weighed on you was subsiding, or perhaps you were just slowly getting used to it.
Nevertheless, it was easier than before since you could work alongside Chuuya.
It seemed as if you both shared each other's burdens of the stress imposed on you everyday. Other than that, it was nice having a partner who knew exactly what you had to deal with at work. It sort of saved you the trouble of explaining and elaborating on details of how your day went, since the both of you stuck together most of the time. Even your colleagues were well-aware of how close you were. Disregarding the countless times Dazai, who was your esteemed colleague but also your close friend, had mockingly declared that you both acted like 'a pair of pathetic, lovesick teenagers,' the fact still remained that you and Chuuya were highly respected at the Port Mafia because of what your ideal duality was capable of accomplishing.
But today, you didn't bother thinking about work. It was the last thing you wanted on your mind. You turned your head to your side, and found that Chuuya was not sleeping next to you. You got out of bed and started humming a tune whilst making your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Your head was cluttered with thoughts about what your plans were for today, since it was one of those rare opportunities to spend some quality time with Chuuya, who wished to do the same with you, too. Just as you were about to get out of the bathroom to look for him, you heard a voice coming from behind the shower curtain.
"Oi," Chuuya's morning voice rang groggily, "what happened to wishing your boyfriend a simple 'good morning'?"
You tittered lightly and proceeded to open the curtain, only to find Chuuya comfortably relaxing in the bathtub with a glass of wine in his hand. A grin broke through his expression as your eyes rested on him.
"Good morning, idiot," you chimed sweetly, "how long have you been in here?"
Before he could respond, you held your index finger up in realisation as you recognised that strong scent hanging in the air. Chuuya looked at you innocently as he tried to think of a way to justify the fact that he used too much of your favourite vanilla soap in the bath. You also realised that there were more bubbles than usual, so you quickly deduced the situation and frowned at him in fake disappointment.
"I'll get you more soon," he added awkwardly before you could say anything.
"How much did you use?" you inquired seriously, attempting to scare him.
"Half the bottle... sorry... it took a while to bubble up... I was really confused," he scratched the back of his head guiltily.
"I'm kidding, Chuu~" you chuckled softly. You proceeded to remove your clothes and carefully slid into the tub to sit across him. He had prepared another glass just for you. Pouring a portion of one of his most expensive wines into it, he checked to see if you were seated comfortably.
"What's the occasion?" you asked as the sweetness of the alcohol washed over and soothed your tastebuds. The bitter aftertaste and the way it flooded over all your distressing thoughts about work summed up just how much you liked it.
"I'm a great boyfriend," he said airily, a smirk curling up the corners of his lips.
"Nah... admit it," you replied nonchalantly, "you just love spoiling me."
Chuuya laughed at this, not bothering to differ with your statement. The both of you sat in silence for a bit, casually sipping from your beverages and engulfing yourselves into your thoughts, while slowly getting a little light-headed from the gradual intoxication of the wine. The alcohol seemed to be doing a great job of relaxing your sore joints, and bringing Chuuya into a flurry of lukewarm emotions which stood in contrast to his usual agitated mood.
However, this changed as Chuuya broke his train of thought when he noticed the bruises lining your right shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, so he leaned forward and reached out his hand, gently brushing the tips of his finger against them and catching you off-guard at the same time.
"What happened here?" he asked, observing it carefully as your hand reached out to push away his. You didn't really like it when he showed too much concern over such trivial things, even though you deeply appreciated it. Since working in the Port Mafia often posed threats to the both of you physically, these sort of minor injuries were normal, but he never failed to dot after you. He took care of you as best he could, and you did just the same for him. This was one of the million reasons why Dazai often referred to you both as 'the cheesiest couple to walk on this godforsaken planet.'
"It's nothing," you held your hand over your shoulder, pressing the bruises lightly to see if they still hurt as much as they did a few days ago, "It's just from that dumb fight that broke out a few days ago. Remember?"
"Where was I?" a look of annoyance replaced his concerned expression, "why didn't you ask for help?"
"I managed it just fine," you replied rather abruptly, trying your best to brush it off. You two often argued about such things, but today, the last thing you wanted to do was fight over something so minor.
Chuuya stared at you seriously while you tried to avoid his gaze. Your heart raced a little at the thought of a potential argument breaking out, so you decided to diffuse the tension since it was supposed to be a day of rest, and... slight inebriation.
"Chuuya," you subtracted the ego your expression held, and assumed a calmer, more tender tone, "it's nothing to worry about, okay?"
He pursed his lips as his eyes travelled down to your bruises, then back up to meet your gaze, "please, be more careful, for fuck's sake."
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The pace at which your heart was beating slowed down to keep up with the alcohol's minor effect on your body, and Chuuya's sharp features, with its present undisturbed guise, had a strange way of setting you at ease, too.
Maybe it was just the wine talking, but you didn't let anything stop you from soaking up every fibre of this moment.
"Hey, don't act as if you didn't come home with blood all over your clothes a few weeks ago. It was a fucking bloodbath over here, and all I got were a few bruises," your playful teases overtook the silence which the both of you were too captivated by for a while.
"Shut up. Don't make me remind you about how you were freaking out," he mentally mustered up the theatrical skill hidden deep inside him to imitate your voice, "'Fuck, there's blood everywhere! Chuuya, how are you feeling? It's okay, I'm going to patch you up... where the fuck are the bandaids!? Oh my- okay, wait, I'll be back, don't move. Oh, wait, you can't- sorry, just give me a moment-"
"I had all the right to freak out, dumbass!" you cut him off and giggled as he shook his head dismissively, trying his best not to smile but failing all the same.
"On a serious note," Chuuya uttered after some contemplation, "if something like that happens again, call out my name."
"In the middle of a fight?" you tilted your head, perplexed.
"Yeah," he responded plainly.
"What are you going to do? Bitch-slap them?" you asked with a mischievous grin, unable to take him seriously.
"Make them regret it," Chuuya replied bluntly before a devious smile broke through his serious expression, "of all people, you know what I'm capable of."
"I do," you assured him, "but why?"
The question was genuine, and he decided to respond with brutal honesty.
"I don't take people's wellbeing lightly," he said, sipping on his wine while keeping his gaze locked onto you, "especially the people I give a damn about. So if anyone ever crosses that line— I'll kill them."
You felt something shift inside you.
His aggression and fierce loyalty seemed to overwhelm you. No one had ever spoken for you like that.
He took note of your silence, and wondered why you became quiet all of the sudden.
"What's wrong?" he asked you, gesturing for you to come over to his side. You did accordingly and made yourself comfortable in between his legs by stretching out your own, so that the both of you made good use of the space in the bathtub. The back of your head rested on his chest as the two of you blankly stared at the bubbles that surfaced the soapy water decoratively. He took away the wine glass from your hands and placed both the glasses on the cabinet nearby, where your essential oils and premium soaps were housed. He reached out to the lowest shelf for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Nothing," you replied calmly, "thank you."
"For what?" he asked, slowly getting a cigarette out of its box, careful not to get the tobacco rod wet.
"Don't know..." you replied dreamily, "no one's ever..."
Your voice trailed off. Chuuya sensed that you weren't in the mood to respond, so he reached his hands in front of your face with a cigarette in between his fingers, and placed it in between your lips carefully, with his face peeking over your shoulder to ensure that he had the permission to do so. As he gently handled your jaw in one hand and the lighter in the other, he lit it up for you.
"There's no reason to thank me," he leaned back once again as you painted the air with wisps of smoke. You remained silent as you handed him the cigarette. He held it in his hand and opened his mouth again, "this job really sticks a fuck ton of needles up the soles of your feet, so I can't help but feel worried about you."
"I'm worried about you, too," you replied as he passed you back the cigarette, puffing out clouds of smoke smoothly, "you know that, right?"
"Of course, I do," he scoffed, surprised at your question, "you're the one who doesn't seem to get that."
"Huh? What do you mean?''
Chuuya took a while to come up with an answer because he was trying to pick out words that he meant from the bottom of his heart.
"I signed up for this shit. I signed up for worrying about your dumbass and wanting to slice the throats of anyone who hurts you, let alone, touches you. So there's no reason to push my concern for you away; it won't go away. I'm just like that. I just care for you that way."
You giggled at his statement; that was the only way you seemed to know how to respond.
"What's so funny?" he growled grumpily.
His statement rewinded and played itself over and over again in your head.
"I feel like the luckiest person alive when I'm with you," were the words that came out of your lips breathlessly.
"Damn, it took you that long to realise?" he chuckled lightly and wrapped his arm around your abdomen to bring you closer toward him, "I'm going to keep you safe... whether you like it or not."
You turned back to peek at his casual smile and leaned towards him to place your lips on his; his fingers travelled up the back of your neck and into your wet hair as he pulled your head closer to his. Your body was physically enchanted by his embrace, to the point that your fingers started playfully drawing curly, deformed doodles on his bare chest. The essence of tobacco and wine were exchanged as your lips continued kissing his.
The rest of the day was similar to that morning you spent in the tub, except that it involved a slightly more chaotic type of drunkenness by which you two wreaked havoc wherever you could in the comfort of your home. It was an activity you two started looking forward to every weekend: just the two of you, drinking wine in the bathtub lined with vanilla-scented bubbles.