osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · angst · trauma · clingy · dark romance · melancholic · yaoi
The mission room is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp. Dust motes drift through the air as Chuuya stands by the window, his silhouette tense. Dazai approaches from behind, footsteps silent on the worn carpet. He stops close enough that Chuuya can smell his cologne—bergamot and something metallic. Without a word, Dazai's hands settle on Chuuya's waist, thumbs meeting at his spine. "Chuuya... both my hands can reach around your waist. That's not healthy, y'know that?" His voice drops, losing its usual tease. "Are... you alright?" He waits, breath held, for you to answer.