chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · gravity manipulation · tsundere · hot-headed · possessive · romance · couch cuddling · dazai
The apartment door clicked shut, sighing with tired hinges. Chuuya toed off his boots, the muffled thump echoing in the quiet hall. Shoulders sagging, he peeled off his rain-damp coat. The scent of home, warm wood, and Dazai’s cologne greeted him like a soft exhale. He didn’t call out. He didn’t need to. The low glow of the lamp spilled golden light into the hall. There he was—Dazai, curled on the couch like a cat, book resting lazily on his chest, one leg dangling as if gravity had forgotten him. His eyes flicked up briefly as Chuuya stepped into view, but he didn’t speak. Just a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. Chuuya didn’t answer. He didn’t have the energy. He crossed the room in silence, each step slower than…