Work Text:
Chuuya stands in front of the ADA's main door, waiting for Atsushi. His boss was kind enough to give everyone an early day off (though it’s more like he wanted to use the time for Christmas shopping with Elise before all the stores closed on Christmas Day). The redhead didn’t have to wait long. While waiting, he happened to meet two ADA members—one was the dark-haired woman with a butterfly hairpin he had fought before, and the other was a brown-haired woman with glasses whom he had never met. The dark-haired woman mentioned that Atsushi would be out soon, once he finished his last report. Then, she wrapped her arm around the other woman’s waist, and the two disappeared into the distance.
The snow begins to come down from the dark sky, coloring the streets with soft bright snowflakes as it highlights the winter atmosphere. The gleaming golden lights from stores, buildings, and even houses with decorations create that cozy feeling to any walker, welcoming the holiday as it approaches Yokohama and the rest of the world.
“Chuuya!”
The gentle and loving tone of his name momentarily makes Chuuya forget the biting cold of the weather, drawing his focus entirely to the owner of that voice. A smile appears on the redhead’s face as Atsushi runs toward him with a bright smile, his breath visible in the chilly air. Without hesitation, the white-haired man clasps Chuuya's gloved hands to his own.
“You’ve been waiting long, haven’t you?” Atsushi asks softly as he gazes into Chuuya’s blue eyes.
The redhead shakes his head, holding the other’s hands tightly. “Of course not. I just got here,” he replies, his blue eyes filled with affection as they meet Atsushi’s heterochromatic gaze, full of nothing but pure love shining clearly in them.
His Atsushi, his boyfriend, his—
Fucking shitty Dazai?
Irritation crashes over Chuuya the moment he spots a familiar tall brunette head looming behind Atsushi. His eyes narrow, and without thinking, he pulls the white-haired man behind him protectively.
“Shitty mackerel, what the fuck do you want?” A growl escapes the redhead’s lips as he shifts his glare onto the approaching figure
Dazai wears a fake ass grin, his bandaged hands buried casually in his coat pockets. “How rude, Chuuya. Can’t I stop by to say hi to my favorite partner ?”
“ Ex-partner .” Chuuya corrects, “Cut the damn act, Dazai. You’d never go out of your way just to say hi.”
Knowing the brunette for seven years, the redhead knows Dazai is anything but nice to him, not even bothering to say hi. The nicest thing that man could do is keep his mouth shut, but of course, he’s doing the opposite. As always, the idea of Dazai being nice is as unlikely as snow falling on a hot summer day. The bandaged man has ruined his moment with Atsushi and won’t stop talking. Chuuya already feels like throwing a punch to break the brunette’s jaw—if only his hands weren’t otherwise occupied.
“I see you’re still as aggressive as ever. No wonder your height hasn’t increased even a bit since I last saw you four years ago,” Dazai says, pulling one hand out of his pocket and holding it at Chuuya’s height. He waves it mockingly in the air, a laugh escapes his lips as if taunting the redhead is his favorite pastime. “Maybe you should try drinking more milk.”
“Why you!”
“Please stop teasing him, Dazai,” Atsushi interjects, his tone firm as he gives his mentor a warning look. “Or I’ll let Kunikida know it was you who covered his desk with pink glitter and stickers.”
The bandaged man lets out a dramatic gasp. “My dear Atsushi?! Don’t do that to me. You know he’d kill me!”
Atsushi raises an eyebrow, his tone laced with mock disbelief. “I think you’d be into that anyway. Besides, wouldn’t I just be helping you achieve your dream faster?”
Dazai’s mouth opens, but for once, no words are released.
The white-haired man spins Chuuya around, gently guiding the redhead to face him instead. “Ignore him. I think you’re wonderful.” Atsushi declares. His hands briefly leave Chuuya’s to brush away the snowflakes clinging to the redhead’s hat. Without hesitation, Atsushi wraps his arms securely around Chuuya’s waist, pulling him closer. Then, leaning in gently, he presses a soft kiss to Chuuya’s forehead.
In that moment, Chuuya completely ignores the presence of the third wheeler, melting into Atsushi’s warmth as he holds him close. Atsushi’s kiss—or kisses in general—always brings butterflies to the redhead’s stomach, a feeling so pleasant it leaves him breathless and craving more. Despite the freezing weather and the snow thickening around them, the warmth of Atsushi’s arms, his body pressed against him, easily overpowers the coldness. Chuuya’s hands instinctively wrap around Atsushi’s neck, pulling him closer as the need for more becomes impossible to ignore, his craving for more physical contact growing with each passing second.
“Give me more kisses,” Chuuya demands.
The white-haired man happily listens, dropping more kisses on the redhead’s forehead. Each repeated kiss contains so much affection, making Chuuya’s face flush with warmth. The love from Atsushi, conveyed with every kiss, fills him with an overwhelming happiness that he can't quite put into words. Their love shines so brightly, it outshines the streetlights, casting a glow that makes everything feel soft and intimate around them.
“What the fuck?” Dazai comments, his voice tinged with shock as he watches Atsushi and Chuuya fully ignore him, wrapped up in their own little loving world of lovey-dovey kisses. His brown eyes narrow as the scene continues as if he’s not exist. The massive aura of love around the young couple nearly makes him throw up, so much so that he thinks he could get sick right then and there—not just from the cold temperature, but from how nauseatingly sweet it all is.
—
Bonus:
“Can you believe it? The audacity of those two to kiss shamelessly in front of me like that!” Dazai whines as he pokes the cheek of the blonde-haired man lying next to him on their shared bed. “It made me so jealousssss. Come on, Doppo, I want a kiss,” the brunette demands, holding Kunikida’s arm close to his chest.
Kunikida groans, tired of Dazai’s nonsense. “Osamu… it’s midnight. Can’t you wait until morning?”
“Of course not. Come on, hubby, give me a kiss,” the bandaged man pouts.
“Ugh…” Kunikida gives in, pressing a kiss to the brunette’s forehead. “There. Now go to sleep, Dazai.”
“Alrighttt. Goodnight my loveeee.”
“Goodnight, hubby.”