Work Text:
Mafia attire wasn't exactly made for all weathers. In the summer, Chuuya was constantly stripping away the layers of his suit; coat first, then bolero, then waistcoat. On particularly hot days, he'd unbutton a few extra buttons on his shirt too. Winter was no kinder. Despite all his layers, they were never warm enough, and he hated the feeling of his sleeves pulled all the way down. Bunching up on his shoulder and elbows.
So as autumn worked it's magic to cool the days and stretch the nights, ready for winter, Chuuya decided he was going to spend as much time out of his uniform as possible. Instead he was going to wear the cosiest and warmest hoodies possible. Oversized ones he could tuck his legs up into whilst he sipped a warm spiced drink on his couch.
And where better to get such a hoodie, than from his beanpole of a boyfriend's wardrobe?
—
Dazai stared at the screen of his phone.
It was open on two messages sent to him, the sender ID at the top of the chat reading "Mutt Of Mine". He wasn't supposed to have his phone out at his desk unless it was for work, but given that Kunikida was currently accompanying the Director on a bureaucratic meeting, there was no-one interested in enforcing that rule.
The first message was a picture.
It's subject he recognised well. It was Dazai's own dorm room, after all. Order was never really something that graced Dazai's room. His futon was often left rolled out; dishes piled on the table; books left open the floor; snacks and bottles gathered together in little clusters.
His clothes though, Dazai at least took some care with his clothes. He spent most of his days in casual business wear, creased shirts and slack simply wouldn't do. Which is why it came as a shock to him that in this picture, most of his clothes, right down to his underwear was strewn about his room.
The message underneath simple read:
'How do you have no damn winter wear?'
—
If Dazai was to make a list of torture methods that would still be effective on him, clothes shopping with Chuuya, would make it into the top ten. Mostly because it would usually consist of Chuuya going into high end tailors to get measured, or fitted, or spend hours talking about the subtle difference in hue or this black or that red with some stuffy tailor. All the while, Dazai would be perched awkwardly on some sofa or chair, in his standard fit clothes being judged by the employees.
Of course, Chuuya never insisted on Dazai coming with him to these places, but nevertheless Dazai tagged along.
Today, however, they were at a regular clothing shop. Chuuya looking through racks upon racks of jumpers, coats, hoodies and zip-ups. In their shopping cart— which Dazai was leaning against and contemplating crashing into Chuuya— was a woollen beanie, gloves, a cable knit scarf that Dazai could wrap around his neck several times over, a fluffy robe, warm pyjamas, fuzzy socks and slippers.
And all for him.
The fact that Chuuya was buying all this for him was keeping Dazai from acting up. If he thought about it too hard he could feel a heat rising to his cheeks. It was too much, someone caring so much about his well-being to make sure he was warm throughout the winter months. And being so open about it, Dazai couldn't help but want to put a stop to it. He'd done nothing to deserve such care.
"Chuuya is taking this all a little far."
"Hm?" Chuuya hummed, as he was inspecting the quality of a baby blue hoodie. Then he processed the words and shot Dazai an unimpressed look. "You're going to freeze your ass off when it snows if I don't do something about it."
"I have my coat." He pouted, his hand coming to fiddle with the rolled up sleeves of his beige trench coat that he wore practically everyday.
Rolling his eyes Chuuya placed the hoodie in their cart. "That thing is thin as all hell. Besides, I'm not putting up with you creeping your damn icicle fingers under my shirt when your complaining about how cold you are."
It had been something he'd done as teen. Though it had been less of an intimate act and more a way to annoy Chuuya and illicit a high pitched scream of shock from him.
Dazai sighed in defeat. Really, he knew there was no changing Chuuya's mind once he'd decided on something. His stubbornness was something Dazai admired, when it wasn't aimed at him. He stared down into the cart again, at the collection of clothes Chuuya had so carefully picked out for him. Soft creams and blues, mostly, colours Chuuya had picked up on Dazai liking without ever having been told so. Textures he knew wouldn't set Dazai itching at his skin with irritation, the promise to cut out the tags when they were home, already made.
As Chuuya joined him behind the cart, Dazai felt an overwhelming warmth building in his chest. It almost hurt to breathe around it. He dropped his head atop Chuuya's, turning to bury his nose in Chuuya's hair. It wasn't often Chuuya went without his hat, but with Dazai at his side, he didn't need to wear it. So Dazai took advantage of Chuuya's hair being free to touch.
"Thank you." He mumbled against the soft ginger curls.
—
There had been one hoodie in the collection of clothes that didn't match the others. Pumpkin orange, with little brown maple leaves embroidered around the cuffs. Chuuya had chosen it because he liked it and was intending on stealing it back from Dazai once it was worn in. It was purposely chosen, because it wasn't Dazai's style, he wasn't supposed to like it. Just wear it maybe once or twice, before it mysteriously ended up in Chuuya's wardrobe.
The problem was, Dazai had started consistently wearing it when he wasn't at work.
The first time he appeared at Chuuya's apartment in the orange hoodie, Chuuya had grinned, his plan was going perfectly. Dazai had clearly worn it, so Chuuya would see it and wouldn't ask why he never wore at all. But then, there was a second time, and a third—
—and by the fourth time Chuuya saw Dazai in that hoodie, he had to accept the fact that Dazai genuinely liked it.
—
Two weeks had passed since Chuuya came to the realisation he would never get the hoodie he wanted back off Dazai. It was something he told himself he'd come to terms with. However, when he came home one evening half-frozen in his work clothes to find Dazai snuggled up on the couch in the orange hoodie of his desires, Chuuya felt something in him snap.
He kicked off his shoes, trudged over to the couch. Standing in front of Dazai, he held out his hand expectantly. "Gimme."
Dazai blinked up at him, a confused smile coming to his lips.
"I'm cold, gimme." Chuuya said, like that explained anything.
"Chuuya, you're gonna have to use your words here." Dazai sat up, he felt around himself, making sure he hadn't been lying on a blanket and forgot about it. But there was nothing to be found.
Instead of 'using his words' Chuuya practically pounced on Dazai, pushing him against the back rest and straddling his lap. His hands grabbed at the hem the hoodie, trying to pull it upwards. Dazai could only squawk in surprise and try to push the hoodie back down.
"You're gonna stretch it!"
"Not if you just give it me!
"Get your own!"
"This was supposed to be my own!"
That comment gave Dazai pause. He stopped wrestling against Chuuya to cup his face in his hands and force him to look up and at Dazai's face. The motion also shocking Chuuya out of his struggling. Realizing what he just said, Chuuya's face flushed in embarrassment.
"Explain."
"It's dumb. You'll laugh." Chuuya tried to turn his face away, but Dazai's hand kept him in place, so he settled for averting his gaze.
"Most likely. Explain anyway."
Chuuya weighed up his options, he was too tired to think of a believable lie, and in no position to try and hold out on tell the truth. Dazai had him trapped in his lap. His fingers fidgeted with the edges of the hoodie before he sighed.
"That day I was at your dorm, I was looking for a hoodie to take, but you didn't have any." He admitted. "So I took you shopping, to get your dumbass some warmer clothes and… I picked out this one because you weren't supposed to like it."
Dazai grinned, his hands dropped from Chuuya's face to rest at his waist. "Chuuya wanted a boyfriend shirt? How cute."
"Shut up!" He batted his fist against Dazai's chest. "Why do you even like this hoodie, anyway. It's not even your style."
"Because," It was Dazai's voice that faltered now, he buried his head into Chuuya's shoulder to hide any signs of vulnerability that might have shown on his face. "It reminds me of Chuuya."
His heart flipped in his chest. Something between giddiness and guilt brewed within him. Dazai liked it because it reminded him of Chuuya, wore it so often to keep the thought of Chuuya close at heart, at all times. And Chuuya had tried to take it from him without even considering his feelings.
"Oh." Was all Chuuya could get out.
They sat like that for a few moments, neither of them really knowing what to say next. Until eventually Dazai leaned back again. "Chuuya really is cold, huh?"
"Duh, it's freezing out there. I told you it would be."
"I guess we should share then!"
Before Chuuya could even process those words, Dazai had lifted up the front of his hoodie and pulled it over Chuuya's head, trapping him against Dazai's chest.
"Oi!" Chuuya wriggled against Dazai, instinctively fighting against his capture. But it was short lived, as he realised how warm it was between the space of Dazai's body and the hoodie. His cheek ended up pressed against Dazai's chest and once he'd stopped moving, Chuuya could hear the steady— if a little sped up— beating of Dazai heart.
He felt Dazai's arms wrap around him, hugging him closer as Dazai's chin came to rest atop his head. "See, isn't this better?"
In lieu of answering, Chuuya let his eyes slip closed and the built of tension of the day leave his body as he settled against Dazai.
This was better.