this means i owe you, doesn't it? || bungou stray dogs

[🔞] tailor - chuuya nakahara

"Stop moving or else I'm not gonna tailor this coat for you."

You sighed as your boyfriend shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, eying your tape measure with disdain. He stilled, though, and you wrapped the tape around his hips, ready to try again.

Besides being a couple, the two of you had a symbiotic relationship that worked quite well— you, as a tailor, would cater to Chuuya's expensive tastes in clothing and custom fit each item to his body; he, a top Port Mafia executive, would provide you with anything you needed and more, giving you free reign to create whatever your heart desired. It was quite the sweet deal for you.

"Are my clothes in the way?" he asked as you cursed to yourself, fumbling with the tape measure by his waist, and you paused.

Did you actually need him shirtless? No. Did you care?

...

"Yeah, they're in the way."

The lie passed easily through your lips, and you pulled back as he undid the buttons of his vest and then his shirt, shrugging them off his shoulders and placing them in a neat pile on your workspace. Left in nothing but his pants, you took a few moments to congratulate yourself on a decision well made.

Your fingers slid softly across his bare skin as you wrapped the tape measure around the thinnest point of his torso, missing how Chuuya's cheeks darkened at the contact.

"27 inch waist," you muttered to yourself, and quickly jotted the measurement down on a piece of paper. Damn. He was snatched.

Falling into the groove of your work, you moved to measure his arms, and then his chest. The text on the tape was small and hard to read, and you scrunched your face up as you leaned forward to read the numbers. You placed a hand on his chest to steady the tape— and made the grave mistake of looking up at his face from your position by his chest.

Bathed in sunlight from the window of your sewing room, Chuuya glowed practically golden, and his eyes were soft as he peered at you through his lashes, gaze already trained upon your features. Holy shit, you thought to yourself, quickly looking away, cheeks flushing at the accidental eye contact. Have you ever seen a man so fine?

You detached yourself hurriedly from his chest, moving a little too quickly to write the measurement down on your paper, and the sound of a quiet chuckle followed you.

"See something you like?" Chuuya teased, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face from where you stood bent down over your desk.

You huffed and gave him no answer as you stalked back to take his shoulder measurement, refusing to look at him again, and he hummed, using the opportunity to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

"Chuuya," you sighed, mildly exasperated but mostly flustered. Taking note of the number, you turned to write it down— but a gentle grab of your wrist stopped you.

Sensing exactly what was about to happen, you tried to pull away to no avail. "Chuuya. I need to write this down before I forget," you started, but the man stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. He was standing unthinkably close, and you averted your eyes as he leaned in, enough so that his nose almost touched yours.

"What was it?" he murmured against your lips.

"5 and a half inches," you whispered back, all the breath stolen from your lungs at your proximity.

Your boyfriend hummed, and one of his hands snaked around to the back of your neck.

"I'll remember it," he said, and that was the only warning you got before he sealed his lips with yours hungrily. All thoughts of pushing him away went out the window as you reciprocated with equal ferocity, hands immediately reaching up to tangle in his hair.