luckilylovable
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Summary
🔞 In the Port Mafia, owning a hybrid is as common as carrying a gun—pretty little creatures bought at auctions or traded between the rich, kept for comfort, obedience, and stress relief. Chuuya never cared for it, never understood why everyone else had one, until a failed mission leaves him unraveling at the seams. At Kouyou’s insistence, he attends an underground auction just to “look.” He plans to leave empty-handed—until he sees the final lot: a bandaged black cat hybrid adorned in jewels, sharp-eyed and devastatingly beautiful. Chuuya bids without hesitation, paying more than anyone dares challenge, and walks away with the strangest thing he’s ever wanted.
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Their beds are separated by one cardboard wall, a lock, and a whim. Dazai is more than okay with that.
(flatmates!au)
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“If you’re trying to make up for fucking strangers in my apartment, all you have to do is stop fucking strangers in my apartment.”
Dazai coughs quietly on the other side.
“Are we strangers?”OR: the biggest trial in Chuuya's life is being Dazai's landlord
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“A day off?” Chuuya echoes, blinking slowly.
“Yes,” Mori repeats with a chuckle, but it sounds like an order this time. “A day off. Do with it as you please.” And right as Chuuya is opening his mouth to ask why, Mori perks up and says, “Ah, I instructed Dazai-kun to take the day off as well.” He smiles serenely. “So you two may spend it together, if you’d like.”
Chuuya’s eye twitches.
In between carnival games and ice cream stands, Chuuya learns a thing or two at seventeen about normalcy, cotton candy, and hand-holding.
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“Are you in my apartment, asshole?”
“Oh wow, Chuuya! That was quick. Your slug brain is keeping up!” Dazai giggles. “Don’t blame me. Blame your security. It’s so easy to convince them that I’m still part of your band with a counterfeit badge.”
“You really need to stop doing that. You were a temporary,” Chuuya grumbles with a sigh and a pinch to the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing there anyway?”
A laugh and then once again, the phone is fumbled, as if placed away from them, as Dazai’s voice sounds a little further away. “What am I doing? Well, I said I was going to paint you a picture, but I also needed to hear the sound of your voice to do it.”
“Chuuya…” Dazai’s voice lowers, and a moan escapes his lips through the line. Just the sound of his name on Dazai’s lips, laced in lust and honey, gets Chuuya’s adrenaline pumping again. The scream of his fans has nothing against Dazai’s breathy moans.
“You better not make a mess on my bed without me there.”