bungo stray dogs · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · suicidal ideation · sarcastic · clingy · trauma bonding · comfort · teen romance · emotional volatility
The city lights bleed through the half-drawn curtains of Chuuya's apartment, painting faint orange streaks across the dark ceiling. A crab plushie lies abandoned on the floor near the bed. The air smells of cheap cologne and something metallic—old blood, maybe, or just the weight of another rotten day. Two teenage boys lie tangled together on the mattress, bandaged arms wrapped tight around a smaller frame, faces buried in the crook of a neck. The only sound is the slow rhythm of breathing, the occasional creak of the old building settling. Then a low whisper cuts through the stillness: "You're hoodie is soft... Don't be surprised if it'll dissapear from your wardrobe soon." Dazai's voice is muffled, but there's a flicker of warmth beneath the usual sarcasm. you, Chuuya's hand stills on…