Drunk Teen Actions

2

Osamu was gone the next morning as Chuuya anticipated. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was a note.

'You should really move closer to the middle of the city so work isn't so far away from me. I had to wake up so much earlier than usual. What a cruel fate to subject your dear husband to(~‾▿‾)~'

While the use of that small drawing at the end of the note was annoying to say the least, the note itself allowed an unwanted warmth to blossom in his chest. The note implied the author would return.

He brushed it off, leaving the note where he found it before making himself some breakfast. He had the day off for corruption recovery.

Chuuya did a few chores and went grocery shopping. He only noticed at the end he had gotten enough for two. If Osamu did return--which Chuuya buried the hope he had at that statement--Chuuya would not allow him to know he had purposefully gotten extra for him.

At 6 o'clock, just as he finished cooking dinner, he heard the door click open and footsteps enter his home. The steps stopped and rustling was heard before the steps returned, this time shoeless.

"What are you making, Chibikko?" Osamu said, leaning on Chuuya with his chin on the top of Chuuya's hair.

Chuuya didn't bother pushing him off but stayed silent at the question. He didn't want to admit he was making a crap dish for Osamu.

"Just sit down," Chuuya said after a while, plating the food.

"Yes dear chibi~" Osamu sang, clearly taking advantage of how out of it Chuuya clearly was. Chuuya froze in his actions as he felt Osamu place a small kiss on top of his head before removing himself from leaning on Chuuya and sitting down.

He brushed it off and continued plating the food.

"There is leftovers if you want to take some to work tomorrow," Chuuya said, placing the plate in front of Osamu.

"I'm surprised you made some for me," Osamu teased.

"Your note left the impression you were coming back so I prepared," Chuuya grumbled, sitting across from Osamu with his own plate.

"So you weren't hoping for it?" Osamu sang.

"Shut up, Nakahara Osamu."

"You finally said it," Osamu gasped, hands in a prayer motion by his mouth with wide, glittering eyes.

Chuuya only looked up at him and glared at him.

"Chibikko-"

"I let it slide earlier but I swear to God if you call me a child again, I will throw you back into a mafia dungeon where you belong."

"Such a violent chibi," Osamu pouted.

"Oh shut the hell up and eat," Chuuya growled, stabbing his fork into a steamed carrot. "God, why did my drunk self marry you?"

"I do believe you said you never wanted me to leave," Osamu grinned. Chuuya stiffened, his appetite suddenly lost.

"Yeah, well, look where that got me," Chuuya said quietly. He stood up and took the plate to the kitchen.

"Wait Chuuya-" Osamu said, grin falling.

"I did wait. For four years," Chuuya hissed. Any playfulness left Osamu's expression and he stood up, reaching for Chuuya. The redhead flinched away and Osamu recoiled.

"Chuuya..." Osamu trailed off.

"You know where everything is, I'm going to bed," Chuuya said. Chuuya had half the mind to kick Osamu out. But, he knew he didn't truly want Osamu gone. One thing he learned early on was that he was a truthful drunk. He may play it off as a blackout drunk decision but the decision to marry Osamu was a drunk decision influenced by the truth.

Unfortunately for him, he just had to tie himself to a notorious manipulator. Even if he could bring himself to admit that he was at all romantically interested in the man who was his spouse, he doubted that despite anything Osamu showed, none of it was romantic. It was how Osamu was. He wooed women, and even the occasional man, into double suicide with him, some of them getting so deep that it would take even Chuuya by surprise just how much feeling he seemed to portray. But in the end, nothing came of it. There was no feelings in it for Osamu, and Chuuya was sure it was the same for him. Chuuya, for lack of a better word, was his dog. And Chuuya knew Osamu's feelings on dogs, he's known him since they were fifteen after all. Calling himself Osamu's dog was no compliment, especially when it came from the man itself. But, it was an accuracy that Chuuya hated. He was loyal to Osamu and the mafia to a fault.

He'd use corruption for both in the blink of an eye, even to the point of no return, he knew himself well enough to know that. Chuuya grabbed a bottle of wine on his way to his bedroom as an afterthought as he lost himself to his mind. He missed how Osamu's eyes trailed after him before packaging up the dinner that was left barely touched by both men.

Chuuya didn't even bother with going back for a wine glass. He popped the cork and brought the bottle to his lips.  He stared into the darkness of his room, watching how the shadows formed monsters the longer he looked. Chuuya hadn't bothered with the light when he came into the room. The collar of his turtleneck felt almost like the collar of the dog he was, tying him down in reminder of where he stood.

The door cracked open, allowing light from the hallway to spill in. Footsteps were light as they came to the bed. Chuuya didn't bother looking as the bed dipped beside him, only bringing the bottle to his lips once more. A gentle hand was placed on the hand around the wine bottle and took it away from his face.

Osamu was a lot of things, but he wasn't gentle. Chuuya let him take the bottle out of the pure shock from Osamu's behavior.

"I'm sorry, Chuuya," Osamu said, voice gentle like his touch. Chuuya looked away and didn't bother to reach for the bottle. Instead, he flung his legs off his bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, choosing to ignore Osamu's presence and the look of hurt that Osamu wore in the process.