Drunk Teen Actions

9

"Oh, come on! You have to be cheating!" Chuuya accused, having lost the fifth round at their current game. He walked around to Osamu's side and leaned against his controls, making eye contact with the seated male.

"Not cheating. You're just predictable, my dear," Osamu laughed, leaning towards the disguised redhead with a smug smirk.

"I want to play a different game," Chuuya huffed, not bothering with the fact Osamu was encroaching on his space. The brunette gestured around the arcade.

"Take your pick. I'll still win."

"We'll see about that."

•••

"Now that was absolutely cheating," Osamu pouted.

"You're just predictable, my dear," Chuuya mimicked. He grinned like a cat who got the cream. Osamu gently rubbed the cheek that Chuuya had kissed in a flustered manor, the "game over" message flashing in his peripheral.

"Still cheating," he mumbled.

•••

"Alright," Chuuya said as they left the arcade, a lollipop he had won in one hand with his other hand laced with Osamu's. "You win. What do you want from me?"

"Hmmm," Osamu hummed aloud, "I think I'd like..."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow as Osamu trailed off.

"Well, spit it out," Chuuya said.

"Find a place with me?"

"What do you mean?" Chuuya furrowed his brows, looking questioningly at Osamu.

"I really do mean it, you live really far away from the agency and I don't like having to wake up so early to go to work."

"Wait, you mean like, moving in together? What happened to going slow?"

"We can get separate bedrooms, at least at first, but I'd like to be able to spend more time with you," Osamu said. Chuuya noticed his nervous habits starting to show in his body language. He squeezed Osamu's hand.

"Alright. I'd like that."

Osamu let out a breath and grinned in relief.

"How about we finish this date off with a celebratory...well, at this point it might as well be dinner, we kinda skipped lunch."

Chuuya chuckled. "I'd like nothing more."

They began their trek towards a nearby restaurant. This time, Chuuya pulled himself closer to Osamu, wrapping his free hand around Osamu's bicep, almost holding the arm of the other man to his chest. The ring on his hand grew cold in the crisp evening air, a small reminder of the steps being taken.

The restaurant wasn't too busy. They were able to get a small table in a far corner with a good view of the place, making sure they could see any people who might become a problem before they could see them. Dinner was a rather quiet affair, whispered jokes between them and stifled laughter as they ate.

"You'll have to go back to work tomorrow," Chuuya said as they walked home after dinner.

"Will my hatrack be home for dinner again?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes hard, deciding not to argue about the nickname.

"I should be. Though, Ane-san might keep me a bit. I have to explain to her why I was with you. And probably swear her to secrecy."

Osamu leaned over with a hum of affirmation, pressing chapped lips to Chuuya's forehead.

"Want me to stop by the store for ingredients?"

"Do you promise to actually get fresh produce and not just canned crab?"

"If I must," Osamu groaned dramatically.

"If you promise to use it wisely, you can take my credit card and go get ingredients. I'll message you the list."

"What if I want to pay and spoil my chibi?"

"Call me a chibi one more time and you are sleeping on the couch. And besides, you payed for everything today. Tomorrow, it's my turn."

"I suppose that's fair," Osamu relented.

"Hmm," Chuuya hummed.

"Chibi," Osamu said, breaking from Chuuya and running. Chuuya sprinted after him.

"GET BACK HERE!"

•••

Chuuya entered Kouyou's office the next day. The executive looked flawlessly poise as her eyes locked onto him.

"I hope this is you coming to give me an explanation."

"It is," Chuuya said, stiffly.

"Sit."

He moved to one of the seats in her office. This wasn't unfamiliar to him, he had sat in these chairs many times throughout his years in the Port Mafia. Kouyou was the closest he ever had to a maternal figure and was often who he had gone to for advice. Now, he picked at a loose thread in his coat sleeve, not wanting to look her in the eye.

He heard a sigh and the sound of tea being poured. Chuuya looked up enough to accept it when it was handed to him.

"Well?" Kouyou asked. Chuuya bit his lip, unsure of where to begin.

"Do you- hmm, do you remember that mission when he and I were eighteen? It was a little before he left and we had finished it early and gone to a bar."

"That sounds familiar, yes."

"That night, uh, he had asked me to marry him."

"While you were drunk?"

"Yes."

"And you agreed?"

"...Yes. We got some people to sign as our witnesses and signed all the legal papers that night."

It was silent between them and Chuuya nervously swirled his tea in his cup.

"And you are still married?"

Chuuya slipped off his glove, holding up his hand where the metal band glinted in the harsh office light.

"You didn't have that before," she said as he slipped his glove back on.

"I didn't."

"He's trying then."

It was less of a question and more of a statement. Chuuya nodded once again.

"Does he make you happy, lad?" Her voice was soft. He risked looking up at her. She wore an expression of melancholic fondness.

"He does."

"That's all I need to know," she said. She got up and walked to him, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear before cupping his cheek. "Very few of us find such happiness, Chuuya. Don't lose it."

"I won't," he affirmed. "You won't say anything?"

She shook her head, "I have no business sharing your secrets. Nothing shall escape my lips unless you should bring it up yourself."

"Thank you, Ane-san."