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Maybe it was a terrible idea.
Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia were having a joint event, and it wasn't that bad of an idea, actually. It was supposed to be a peaceful pool night. Although convincing some people was hard at first, it started as one.
Until a certain someone decided to bring alcohol.
No minors were allowed, anyways.
Still.
Chaos emerged when people with low alcohol tolerance started to get high, Nakahara Chuuya being the head of this.
No one noticed how many bottles of wine had run out as the curses began to fly. No one played properly since people were barely staying awake. Even Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, the feared rabid dog of Port Mafia, was limp in his, let's say, enemy's arms, already passed out since he wasn't used to drink much. The said weretiger didn't drink more than one glass, so he was just sweating in a corner, not knowing what to do while holding the mafioso. No one dared to help him and take Akutagawa from him, though. Not even Gin. It was funny seeing him so distressed.
As the night went on, they kept playing and drinking. Many people became exhausted and either crouched into a corner or held onto the table, leaving the game to the ones with high alcohol tolerance and the ones who didn't drink much since they were barely standing.
Tachihara, who lost the count to how many glasses he had drank (he wasn't even sure if he was really Tachihara after a fight he had with Tanizaki on who is who) was trying to give a game speech to the ones standing, playing the role of the presenter. It was a little game with just a few people playing. The ones who hadn't passed out yet were watching the game, cheering when a ball goes into a pocket, utterly focused.
They also cheered when Hirotsu scored his shot.
The old man took his cigarette into his mouth, taking a puff of it and looking at the only ball left on the table.
A whistle could be heard.
"Not bad, gramps."
Dazai Osamu, the god of high alcohol tolerance, took a sip of his red wine and smiled.
The right side of his hair was tucked behind his ear, and styled just for today, he was wearing a suit.
He was already winning. All he had to do was to score this shot.
"Let's see yours, young man."
Dazai closed his eyes, bowing gracefully.
He walked towards the table and left his glass there. Just as he was about to take the cue, though, someone tugged on his sleeve.
Turning his head to the right, he saw a pair of blue eyes, staring right into his soul.
Nakahara Chuuya was leaning against the billiards table, elbows supporting him, wasted from all the alcohol he consumed and struggling to stand. Yet, he seemed to recognize Dazai clearly.
"Let me?"
His voice was raspy, yet Dazai didn't hear any hesitation.
He widened his eyes first, then chuckled lightly.
"Of course."
Not losing the grin on his face, he watched as Chuuya turned to grab Dazai's half full glass of wine.
"I have to be drunk enough for this..."
As the ginger drank all of the drink in one gulp, Dazai pouted.
"But that was mine..."
He totally forgot about the wine when a very hot Chuuya moved, almost swayed to stand in front of him, though.
Chuuya put the hand he's been holding his cigarette on the other's shoulder, careful to not to stain his expensive suit. Putting one hand on the table for support, he hopped on it easily.
Tachihara - or Tanizaki, as only a few people were sure about who he was, not including himself - closed his hand on his mouth and started yelling letter of 'o's.
Soon, people around them joined him as well, yelling and cheering for the couple. Dazai wasn't sure about how many of them were aware of the situation, though.
Chuuya took his hat off and put it on Dazai's head, putting his hand that is not holding the cigarette to the other's neck and wrapping his legs around his waist.
He took a puff from his cigarette and blew all of the smoke on Dazai's face.
Dazai's grin did not falter.
He laid down carefully with Dazai leading him along the way and when his back met with the table, he stretched his hand holding the cigarette over his head and onto the table. Laying down with the other's body flush against him, he kept his legs wrapped around the younger man and his other hand on his neck.
Dazai put his right elbow on the table, near the ginger's head. Having the other so close to him, Chuuya held his breath.
Maybe he was overly sensitive because of the alcohol, he could feel Dazai all over him.
The way he moved his hand on him so easily, the way he burned every point he touched got Chuuya even higher up in the skies. That was the hand of a sinner and Chuuya was his biggest sin, his desire that seemed too out of reach in the past.
There was fog in his eyes, erasing every other person in the room and making him focus on Dazai. Eyes, ears, nose, skin, everything worked for Dazai and Dazai only, others staying in the background like a blurry hallucination.
As the hand that was leaving him on fire reached his collarbones and neck, he came face to face with the other, suffocating under the breaths they shared.
The sensation on his neck didn't last long when the hand went to his stretched arm to dig a road up to his hand. Reaching the hand covered with leather, Dazai took the cigarette from him, settling it between his fingers.
That shitty Dazai stole his fucking cigarette but he said nothing, caught up in the heat of the moment.
The younger took a puff of his, no, Chuuya's cigarette before blowing it to his face, taking his revenge from before.
Chuuya took a deep breath, inhaling the dirty air like his lungs weren't already wasted from smoking too much.
After what felt like an infinity, Dazai backed out, leaving the cigarette on the ashtray before taking the cue. He leaned on Chuuya once more, making the other feel the exact same sensations from before.
He moved the cue along Chuuya's stretched arm, the one that held the cigarette previously, and positioned it with his other hand on Chuuya's gloved one as he got ready to hit the ball.
The red head exhaled shakily, despite seeing and feeling Dazai so clearly his mind was still hazy.
"Score this shot for me."
Dazai didn't look at him, yet he grinned sneakily.
"Don't take your eyes off me, then."
As Dazai hit the ball, Chuuya whispered a fuck, not holding it back with the heat of the moment. He held his breath and took it seriously, not taking his eyes off the man for a second, not even blinking.
Everyone held their breaths, but Chuuya couldn't hear them.
Although he didn't see the ball, he knew it was in the pocket when the other man smiled brightly.
Even the rivals cheered for them but it was still blurry for Chuuya, his focus still not leaving the other man. Putting his hand on Dazai's neck once more, he forced him to look down.
"Kiss me."
His blues watched as Dazai's bright smile turned into a delighted grin.
"As you wish."
He left the cue on the table and put his elbow near Chuuya's head once more, his other hand moving the ginger locks out of his beloved's face and settling on his nape.
He leaned down as Chuuya led him along the way with his hand on the other's neck.
The ginger relished at the taste of the other's lips, realizing how he was on fire before. It was not like Dazai's lips cooled him down, but it was refreshing after not even touching each other for a long, long time. Eager, he was.
He didn't hear the applause nor the whistles, but he was grateful to Dazai for giving him that refreshing feeling after drinking so much and burning his own body.
The fire Dazai gave, on the other hand, was sweet.
Breaking the kiss for a breath, he locked his eyes with the browns, seeing his absolutely wasted state in those blank irises.
As the staring went on, Dazai chuckled and decided to talk.
"You look hotter when you're drunk."
Chuuya tsked.
"Yeah, you, too, look hotter when I'm drunk."
Dazai outright laughed at that.
"People say that you tell the truth when you're high... I wonder if that's true."
"Oh, shut the fuck up."
With that, Chuuya pulled him down for another kiss.
His.
All his.
Maybe they should do that regularly.