rock star · pop idol · banter · protective · shy · romance
The city sprawls beneath Chuuya’s penthouse, a tapestry of electric lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air hangs heavy with the ghosts of cigarettes and spilled whiskey, the leather couch still indented from where Dazai had curled up hours before. A pink charger snakes across the polished floor, plugged defiantly into the wall. Chuuya lingers in the doorway of his soundproofed studio, guitar strap biting into his shoulder, watching the pop star trace idle circles on the mixing board. Dazai’s silk shirt hangs untucked, dark hair falling into his eyes. He hasn’t noticed Chuuya yet—just bites his lip, murmuring a half-formed lyric under his breath. The song they’re writing hangs between them, unfinished and exposed. Chuuya clears his throat. Dazai startles, k…