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The apartment was warm and toasty, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.
It was just a lazy day, Chuuya didn’t have any Mafia assignments nor did Dazai have anything pressing to do at the Agency.
“You’re such an idiot y'know that?” Chuuya said, brushing his fingers through dark brown curls, feeling the way strands of hair caught on his ring before getting tugged free.
“Mmhppm..” Dazai hummed, nudging his head against Chuuya’s hand, which was ungloved for once.
The sun was just starting to dip down, painting the room in soft oranges and pinks. Christmas was just around the corner too. It was nice, calm even.
Then it got interrupted.
“Chuuya!” Dazai’s head shot up so fast that it almost collided with Chuuya’s chin. “We should make cookies!” He grinned, sitting up beside him.
“Why?” Chuuya frowned. It wasn’t unusual for Dazai to suggest this, he did it every year, and almost every year the cookies ended up being burnt.
“Last time we baked…You almost caused a fire.” Chuuya said, exasperated, sliding his glove back on.
Dazai shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Silly slug! It's for the Christmas spirit!” He tugged Chuuya off the couch and to the kitchen.
Chuuya sighed, but he couldn’t help the small smile forming on his face.
“Alright, alright,” he muttered, pulling out bowls and ingredients from cabinets as Dazai hovered, like usual. “What cookies this time?” He placed down the supplies on the countertop.
“Ooh! We should do peanut butter!” Dazai bubbled, already grabbing the jar of it out of the pantry, prompting a quiet laugh from Chuuya, “You mean those Peanut Butter Blossoms?”
Dazai nodded, brown curls bouncing to match his movements.
Ingredients were measured and mixed together as soft classical jazz played in the background. The sunlight faded, giving way to the evening glow.
“Hey—No!” Chuuya slapped Dazai’s hand away from the bowl full of raw batter, earning a small whine from the other.
Still, Dazai managed to get a finger full of batter into his mouth, “Ts r’lly ‘ood!” He grumbled, and Chuuya laughed, pressing his hand against Dazai’s chest as he shook his head.
“You’re gonna end up with salmonella or e.coli at this rate, love.” Chuuya grabbed a cookie tray and began wiping butter down the steel.
Dazai leaned down, draping himself over Chuuya as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Really? Do you want these cookies or not?” He scoffed, dropping dollops of batter onto the tray.
Most of the batter was now packed into circles and covered the tray, only a little remained in the bowl.
Chuuya scraped the remaining batter with a spatula and nudged Dazai’s head, “Do you want the damn batter or not?”
Dazai beamed. “Chuuya’s so mean, giving me raw batter that can make me terribly ill…” he drawed out.
“You literally just ate some from the bowl?!” Chuuya retorted, though Dazai simply just licked the spatula before tossing it in the sink.
The cookies were left to sit for a while, technically it was optional, but it gave them time to clean up the kitchen…and themselves…
By the time the tray went into the oven, night had fallen and stars had begun to dot the inky sky.
The couch was draped in soft heavy blankets and even pillows from their bed, making it even comfortable.
The Santa Clause played on the TV and sometime during the movie, Chuuya felt Dazai’s head slip down against his neck, brown hair tickling his neck and chin.
Chuuya blinked, froze for a second before relaxing again, “Tired?” He asked, amusement filling his tone as Dazai hummed, warm breath hitting his skin.
“Do you want to go to bed?” He asked, leaning back against the couch, Dazai followed suit and shook his head, “Mmh…Nope..”
The timer for the oven rang, and Chuuya gently pushed Dazai off him, earning a sleepy complaint as his limbs tangled in blankets.
“Slug is so mean!” Dazai slurred half-asleep. Chuuya turned off the oven, removing the tray, “Uh-huh, you’ll forgive me in the mornin’ when the cookies are edible.”
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
Neither wanted to wake up so early. Despite the heater on, the apartment felt freezing.
Chuuya jolted as cold feet pressed against his legs, “Damn! Shitty mackerel!” He cursed, “Get your cold feet off of me!” He tried to disentangle himself from however Dazai managed to get them like this.
“You’re warm though.” Dazai whined, keeping his legs tangled with Chuuya’s, eyes half way opened, “Ts also way too early for this,” he grumbled, his head resting just below Chuuya’s on the pillow.
Chuuya yawned, relaxing, and pressed a kiss to Dazai’s forehead. “Agreed…”
“Merry Christmas Chuuya” Dazai mumbled, words muffled and slurred.
“Merry Christmas Osamu” Chuuya returned.
The only good thing is that the black out curtains were really doing their job, keeping the room dark despite the bright sun shining through the windows…
And that they had fresh cookies to eat whenever they woke up.