Soukoku Oneshots

The Warmth you Gave

Smut

(A/n: in this fic, Dazai didn't leave the PM)

(PS. I can't believe I'm writing such a thing— *cries* Forgive me god.)

The wine glass tapped against the wooden table, making a much louder clink than the previous. By now, the redhead had finished at least 6 glasses of the intoxicating liquid, his cheeks flushed and his head spinning— but even then he didn't stop, practically downing another cup in less than ten seconds.

No one noticed him sitting at the counter, everyone was too caught up in partying, the sound of laughter, yelling and indistinct chatter filling the air that was strangely hot.

Chuuya had almost forgotten his own name by now; he rested his head against his hand on the table, hoping to soothe the pounding in his ears. Before he knew, his mind went fuzzy, his vision going disorientated from the alcohol.

But just then, a jingle sounded at the door of the loud bar, breaking him out of his artificial high.

His eyesight had gone blurry, and he couldn't make out anything but a tall figure and a long coat that blew in the autumn night wind.

"Chuuya." A voice called. Huh.. That sounds familiar... wait, does it..?  Chuuya couldn't get a coherent thought together, but still, he stood from his seat almost against his will and staggered over to that sound, as if there were a magnetic pull that forced him to do so.

"Woah. How much did you drink?" The voice asked, bending down slightly to stare Chuuya in the eye. Only then could the redhead catch a real glimpse of the person that stood before him; and when he did, he immediately backed up five steps.

"Dazai? Why are you here??" He asked, his words a bit slurred and a tad quieter than usual.

"Mori sent me to find you." Dazai answered, closing the distance Chuuya had created between them in two strides.

Chuuya scoffed and turned around to walk away, only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled right back. He was now mere inches from the brunette, his shoulders tensing from the uncomfortable closeness.

"We have to go home, you know?.. It's late." Dazai lowered his head to whisper the words, his lips almost brushing Chuuya's ear.

"We don't have work tomorrow anyways.." Chuuya retorted, turning his face away from the brunette, a pale red spreading up his cheeks.

"Oh, I guess you're right.." Dazai pulled back his sleeve to check his watch, the hands pointing at 10 and 5. He stared down at the redhead, who seemed disheveled compared to his normal looks, his red hair was curlier than usual, and his beloved hat was absent.

Ignoring the facts, Dazai wound an arm around the other's waist, pulling him closer till their bodies pressed seamlessly together. He leaned down, so close that Chuuya could feel his breath on his own face.

"What the fuck are you doing, shithead??" Chuuya spat. Even though he threw insults, he didn't pull away or show any restraint.

"Awh shortie, did you forget? We've been dating for a year.." Dazai hummed, brushing a hair from near the redhead's eyes while a smirk found its way to invade his expression.

"Wha—" It would seem that Chuuya did indeed forget, as his eyes widened when Dazai pressed him even closer, till the other's lips sealed his own words. But Chuuya didn't push away, rather, he sent an arm up to Dazai's collar, where it gripped the material of his shirt, pulling him down.

"Jeez, you're so aggressive," Dazai scoffed after the touch broke, raising an eyebrow at the redhead, earning himself a heated glare.

Chuuya didn't let go, dragging the brunette all the way over to a relatively quieter side of the bar, where he finally let his grip slacken— but not before he yanked Dazai back down and forced their faces together once more.