despite nightmares plaguing your sleep, there’s always someone warm to wake up to.
the nightmare is something else. there's someone chasing you with a knife first, before the scene shifts and instead you're faced with something more threateningly personal. it twists and turns into a horror show and the you in the dream can only duck and hide or run. except there's only so many places to hide in or go.
"-by. hey."
the monster lurks in the corner of your eye, and you're sure this time it's going to get you. you can almost feel it's slimy limbs encircling your wrist, and just the thought of it sends a shiver down your spine.
"-ke up. baby."
the floor creaks underneath the monster's weight and you close your eyes, accepting your fate. you hear its breath hovering so close to you. and just as it's about to open its cavernous mouth-
"baby. hey. come on, wake up."
the first splash of oxygen into your lungs jolts you awake. the room is dark, but familiar; nothing like the long hallways or dim streets you were traversing much earlier. there's a warm heat along your shoulders and on your hand, but it's comforting rather than revolting. slowly, the nightmare dissipates as you sink backward onto your savior's embrace.
"wanna talk about it?" chuuya asks, rubbing your shoulders and squeezing your hand.
you take a deep breath. "i don't remember all of it. just a lot of darkness and running around from monsters and people that weren't... safe."
"well you're safe now," he assures, presses a kiss on your temple as your breathing slowly evens. he takes his time with you, never rushing, knowing how much these nightmares shake you so deeply. you do your best to focus on his warmth and his company instead, letting go of the disturbing imagery that tried to sear itself into your brain.
once you're calmer, you turn to bury your head into chuuya's chest. the sound of his heartbeat is clear and steady, the one thing you need right now. he combs through your hair with his fingers. you're safe now, his voice echoes in your mind. you're safe now. you always are, when he's around.
noticing you licking your lips, chuuya offers you: "water?"
and you instantly feel how dry your throat is. had you been shouting while you were dreaming? is that how you'd gotten chuuya awake? the nightmare creeps along the edge of your mind again.
"that'd be great, but..." you say, drifting off. "i don't want you to leave me."
chuuya smiles. "that's easy to solve, princess."
carrying you with one arm, you feel the warm touch of his ability surround you as he carries you off to the kitchen. you know that he could carry you with both arms right now if he wanted to, but he knows that the heat of tainted sorrow around you will envelop you in a comforting embrace. which works exactly as he thought it would. you lean against his shoulder as he walks.
when you get to the kitchen, he places you gently onto the counter. when he lets go of you to get you water, you grab onto his wrist suddenly, still shaken.
chuuya presses a hand to your cheek. "i won't leave ya. i promise."
gently, you let go. he turns to get the pitcher of water from the fridge. the water tinkles faintly as he pours it into a glass. you watch him closely, like he'd disappear if you look away for one moment. when he hands you the glass, you take it, but you quickly take his hand in yours as well.
"see?" chuuya says, softly, his voice still slightly deep from sleep. "still here."
"still here," you echo, before finally taking a sip from the water. the cool washes through your mouth and down your throat, a grounding sensation. you're here now. chuuya is, too. and you're safe. you empty the glass, relieving the parched feeling.
chuuya lifts his other hand to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. "think ya can try to get some more sleep?" he asks, concern in his tone. "too early."
you nod. "as long as you're with me."
"stupid. i'm not going anywhere," chuuya assures you. "i'll protect ya. so you can sleep easy."
together, you return to the bedroom, which you're sure is now devoid of nightmares. forever and ever, for as long as chuuya is by your side.
bungou stray dogs | G | 527 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
you’re trying to get to work but chuuya is but a sleepy cuddlebug.
“chuuya, i have to get up.”
“five more minutes…”
sleep still weighs chuuya’s voice down, but the tight wrap of his arms around your waist is relentless despite his drowsiness. you take a glance at the clock again and sigh, knowing you’ll be late to the early meeting if you don’t get out of bed this instant.
“baby, you can sleep in. literally only i have to go.”
“dun want ya to go yet,” chuuya whines, pressing his face against your shoulder. “too early.”
“they’ll fire me.”
“then make them, you don’t need the job anyway.”
you laugh at chuuya’s insistence. it’s almost hard to resist, actually. he hasn’t been home early enough at night the past few days because of work to actually catch you awake, and in the mornings, you’re out of the door usually before he can wake up.
to say you’ve been missing each other is an understatement.
“okay,” you say, finally giving in. the first ten minutes of a morning meeting is probably something you can miss. you’ll just say you were having coffee. “but just five, nothing more.”
“that’s my good baby,” chuuya teases, because of course he does. you turn around to settle back into his embrace, grumbling at his praise while at the same time your irrational heart pleased to have his arms around you if just a little while longer.
slow mornings in the penthouse are almost always spent like this. the soft sunlight streaming in like golden thread through the curtains, illuminating your two forms on the bed under the blanket. it’s hard to tell where one ends and another begins. chuuya’s got his arms around you, pressing you flush against him, and you reach out to intertwine the fingers of a hand with his.
one of you hums a song.
today, it’s you. a slow, gentle melody that’s been stuck in your head since you’ve woken up this morning, a song that’s nearly half lullaby that you purr against chuuya’s sleep-warm skin. he sighs at your touch against his, and the sound and feeling of your voice against him is enough to lull him back to sleep.
a part of you wishes you could stay like this a little longer. to let the warm morning pass over you quietly until the clock paves its way to noon and then afternoon. but the sun is higher than it is five, ten minute ago, and you know if you don’t leave now you never will. besides, chuuya’s already deep asleep once more.
you disentangle yourself from his hold with an embrace, pressing a kiss to the hands you put aside. chuuya looks most at peace when he is asleep, no lines on his brow, no frown on his face, his mouth slightly open from where you can hear his little snores. a part of you fills with pleasure at the thought that he’s comfortable enough to share this with you. you want to hold him tight forever.
but this morning, there is work.
“see you later, baby,” you say, pushing his hair away from his face so you can sneak a kiss onto his forehead. “i love you.”
bungou stray dogs | G | 1092 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
sometimes someone can care too much and it becomes knives.
sometimes life gives you knives.
"i just want you to stop coddling me! god! i'm an adult, leave me alone!"
it doesn't matter how you get the knives, what kind of knives they are.
"i just fucking care about you, and you're going to make it a problem?"
what matters is who you point your knives at.
"well i don't need your babying! i know what i'm doing!"
what matters is who you're injuring.
"then fucking fine! do whatever the hell ya want! i'm not going to make it my problem anymore."
(the door slams behind chuuya, leaving you alone in a bedroom you would rather not be in.)
but he's outside, and he's staying outside for the night, likely curled up in the couch nursing a glass of wine, so all you have left is to stick it out. he'll be gone in the morning, for work. for now all you have to do is set up fortress in your little bedroom.
at least you've got the bathroom, you think. chuuya will need to go all the way down to the gym to do his business.
just as you expected, it's lonelier than you imagined it would be, to hole up here. you're lucky you kept a few gadgets in your bedside drawer, something to distract you while you still can't sleep, still too antsy to lie down, but they prove to be of little help. the feeling still gnaws deep inside your heart.
the traitor inside your head begins to rebel. maybe chuuya was right. he was only looking out for you, after all. he wasn't stopping you from doing the things you want, just asking for you to do it in moderation. no staying up late. no sleeping too much. no drinking too much. no skipping meals. maybe all he was asking was for you to stop overindulging, at the cost of... yourself.
hours pass.
outside, you are correct in your guess that chuuya is nursing a glass of wine. a red, one of the more expensive ones he prefers to share with you. but tonight there is only him and remorse sitting on the couch, lights all turned off, the only illumination coming in the room the bright lights of yokohama city coming through the window.
had he overstepped a line? he wasn't your parent. he wasn't even your guardian. he was your partner, and sure maybe he could get away with a few reprimands sometimes, but maybe he wasn't in the right to demand something like that. the wine leaves a hot stripe down his throat that feels too close like burning damnation.
he was just worried- as he always is. you've been looking a little sunken lately, after all. dark circles under your eyes, an appetite that turned on and off, the heavy footsteps. maybe you hadn't noticed it, but he did. and maybe it was nothing to you- fuck, maybe this was even still in the range of "normal"- but was it so wrong for him to step in?
it is at this point that you come out of the bedroom, your water bottle in hand, the blanket a cape around your figure. you make eye contact for a brief moment, one that sends a wave of disdain over the both of you.
"water," you say by explanation, before walking away from him, headed to the kitchen.
and that would have been more dramatic if the living area had not been overlooking the kitchen, but instead chuuya is still there, gets to watch you pull out the pitcher from the fridge and pour the cold water into your bottle.
he catches your hand shaking and it's the end of it for him.
no more of this.
he gets up off the couch and heads to the kitchen where you are, plopping himself over the counter. you try not to look at him as you refill the pitcher. it doesn't matter- he speaks.
"still mad at me?"
his tone is so casual, like he'd asked if you wanted ice cream, instead. but you know that's what he does when he's bracing for rejection.
"i don't know, chuuya," you answer, and it's the truth. the pitcher is still only half-full. you want to run.
"i was serious when i said i wouldn't bother ya about it anymore," he says, fiddling with the longer end of his hair. "if it makes ya so upset."
"i don't-" you say, turning to him, but once you see the gray of his eyes, you can only turn away. three-fourths full. "i don't want you to stop caring, if that's what you want to hear from me."
"i don't have anything i want to hear from ya," he clarifies. "just want to fix this."
you turn off the tap and the water stops. you place the pitcher on the counter, buying time by putting the lid back in its place. chuuya waits patiently as you put the pitcher back in the fridge, watches as you lean against the opposite counter to face him, all of your blanket cape behind you.
a deep frown goes to your face. "i didn't mean to yell at you."
chuuya raises his eyebrows. "and i didn't mean to be so suffocating."
the curl of the words on your lips feels... not wrong, but hard to say. deep in your heart you are still struggling with the argument, still not settled even if it's been hours since. but you know you have to say it. you have to say it or else-
"i'm sorry," chuuya finally speaks up, saying it before you can. there's a solemn regret in his eyes, one that you quickly realize doesn't have to be there.
"no, i'm sorry," you say back. "i shouldn't have turned you down like that. you were only looking out for me... i could have at least taken it gracefully."
"i shouldn't have been that forceful," chuuya adds on to his apology. "both at fault?"
"both at fault."
chuuya hops off the counter. he comes to you, but doesn't touch you until you give him permission to; in the form of taking his hand. and when you do, you feel gravity lift as he burritoes you with the blanket and you both float into the bedroom.
that is now much warmer.
sometimes life gives you knives.
it doesn't matter how you get the knives, what kind of knives they are.
bungou stray dogs | T | 665 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/OC
chuuya likes dressing you up. and when someone has something bad to say about it? well...
you and chuuya get a lot of looks when you’re walking down the street. especially after he started dressing you up. at first, chuuya would always volunteer to drive you in a car or at least on a motorcycle, to avoid prying eyes, and for your own safety. but after a certain amount of time, it became dull, monotonous, and really, a little restricting.
so you made a compromise. you wear your “regular, commoner clothes” (your words) when you’re out alone, and when you do have to wear your “stylish, chuuya-approved clothes” (your words still) you’ll have to be out with him, so he can assure that no one dares to do anything more than look. and he’d agreed to that. and you’d agreed to that, not knowing the level of how far “assuring” chuuya meant when he haggled it into the explanation.
until today.
“chuuya!”
the man stumbles backwards, falls on his ass to the ground with a yelp clutching his cheek. chuuya had aimed for the center of his face, but moved it sideways when he heard your clarity-inducing voice. he doesn’t have time to deal with lowlifes like this. he just had to land a blow and then the both of you can go.
so dislocating the man’s jaw was enough. he didn’t even need to use his ability.
your instinct is to rush toward the injured man, the very same man who, just seconds ago, had insinuated you might be some sort of gold-digging whore with a dirty, scheming boyfriend. all because the two of you were just the slightly dressed up above average for a little dinner and then a chill planetarium date because there were shooting stars tonight.
a whore?
“i dare you to fucking say that again with your face like that,” chuuya growls, the only thing holding him back from throwing another blow being your hand around his wrist. the orange of the sunset illuminates his face in an angry glow that makes his features light in an intimidating glow. “wanna find out what i’m going to do to you next?”
you tug at his wrist again. “chuuya, he’s had enough. let’s go.”
really, you’re the only voice of reason when he gets like this. with a huff, chuuya snaps out of it and you gratefully pull him next to you. you try to look regretful at the “poor victim” while inside boiling him alive for what he’s said to you and chuuya. with a deadpan look at the nearest bystander—because of course there are people watching—you say, “please call him an ambulance.”
and then, with one last look at the man, the two of you leave the scene without another word.
once you’ve gotten far enough, the sunset giving in to twilight’s violet glow, you hit chuuya at the shoulder with your hand. you understand why he reacted like that, and inwardly you are thankful because you wouldn’t have had the courage to do it yourself, but at the same time… “did you have to act so violently?”
“didya think i was gonna tolerate that?” he huffs, remorseless. “can’t let him think he’s right.”
you frown. “i get it, but you don’t have to make a scene every time.”
sensing your upset, chuuya turns to you. “can’t promise, love, but i’ll try.”
“good. you should try your best.”
“maybe i won’t try as hard.”
you glower. “chuuya!”
chuuya laughs unapologetically as the two of you turn the corner to the restaurant. he links his arms with yours and you lean, for the slightest of moments, against his shoulder. he doesn’t give one shit what other people think about you, of the both of you. he’s going to make sure his highness is dressed exactly the way they want in the most beautiful of ways no matter how simple or extravagant. and he’ll make sure no one has any negative things to say about it.
bungou stray dogs | EXPLICIT | 861 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
alcohol does things to chuuya. you do things to chuuya. put together…
“hahahaha! chuuya, you’re such a silly little man.”
chuuya doesn’t even register the last three words as the alcohol’s effects swirl around his brain like a beautiful fog. all he hears is the sound of your near-erotic laughter, echoing in his ears as you straddle his waist like a fever dream.
he said he was going to get blackout drunk tonight. tough day at work. but he’s not blackout drunk, not yet at least. though you’ve taken away the wine bottles anyway because you’d rather avoid a hungover chuuya. but he’s passed several stages of drunk at this point, and you know that by experience.
it starts with loud chuuya. chuuya on his first glass is always extra loud. talking about anything, really. hobbies, stuff in his work, gossip from within the port mafia, ranting about ex-colleagues—his mouth runs a mile a minute as he drinks. which you don’t really mind—it’s endearing—but a lot of times it’s just much easier to usher him quickly into his second drink.
that leads him straight to quiet chuuya. chuuya who is deeply contemplative and has a lot of angst inside of him begging to come out. while he still has the ability to talk as he did prior, he’s now much quieter, and only drops heavy one-liners every time he does speak. it’s a good barometer to see how he’s been feeling the past week, except every line is at least twice as miserable as it really is in real life. quiet chuuya sits in a corner nursing his glass of wine until it’s empty and he’s near in tears.
which leads to the third-glass horny chuuya.
really, like something snaps. he goes from tense and silent to one that’s crossing the room with heavy footsteps headed straight to your warm embrace.
third-glass horny chuuya gives very, very eager consent. nosing at your neck, murmuring your name and little whines of “please, please, i need you right now” as his hands are going down your body. give him a push and he’ll back off—no problem, not hard at all—but if you continue to let him, the more enthusiastic he gets.
until he’s so desperate for you no more words come out, just grunts and pants and grinding.
he’s already midway through his third-glass tonight and you know if you wait any longer he won’t even be able to get hard at all, so you decide to give him what he wants.
chuuya makes slacks look extra beautiful, especially on his lithe frame, but by god does it look painful when tented with a dick as massive as his. you pop the button free and pull the zipper and shimmy it down his shaking hips.
you can’t help the laugh that comes out of you. “chuuya, you have to calm down a bit.”
which you’re sure he doesn’t understand in words but he does in spirit, because he whines a complaint, a sound that goes straight to both his dick and your core.
you take him into your mouth, a practiced gesture of tongue and hidden-away teeth. a groan that’s filled with relief exits his mouth, and you grin as your tongue goes further down his length. he sighs, a heavenly sound.
chuuya loves oral. giving, receiving. he can spend hours with you between his legs or him between your legs and he wouldn’t mind one bit. something about the adoration, the worship in the act gets him off so hard that you know it won’t take him more than two minutes right now to blow his load all over you.
but you don’t rush it, don’t push on forward because you want to enjoy this as much as he’s enjoying it. take the base of his dick in your hands and gently pump it as you soothe the head over with your tongue like a salty lollipop. the shivers of his hips are sensations that go straight down to your now-wobbling legs.
his hands suddenly fly to your hair, and so you decide to finish him off. all the way in your throat, so nothing goes to waste. his murmurs and moans finally escalate into a choppy, garbled version of your name, so sweet in its surrender, and the pain in your jaw dissipates as you hear him release one final sigh before his hips fall to the bed with a creak.
you look up at him, grinning, delighted in your handiwork and are about to tease him for round two when—
instead, you see chuuya snoring happily away against his pillow, mouth slightly open, drool falling out.
the anger and sexual frustration that broils in your gut at the sight disappears at his pleased, relaxed expression, such a contrast to the displeasure in his face earlier that night.
well, i guess that was worth it.
you wash yourself up quickly before coming back to bed with him, tucking you both under the blanket. you kiss his cheek, then pinch his nose, grinning as you lay down next to him.
bungou stray dogs | G | 511words
nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
the penthouse used to be just a place to return to after work. now it’s something else entirely.
the thing about the penthouse is that it’s a symbol of everything chuuya stands for.
his jazz collection hides in the shelves of his penthouse. his various wines sorted by year in their special cupboard. his diversity of suits. the books he’d bought that meant the world to him. souvenirs from around the world. mementos from missions.
and of course, the beautiful view of yokohama out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the main reason chuuya is in it at all.
for the city. his city.
and for the longest time, the penthouse is just the penthouse, the place where all of chuuya’s existence lives, until… well, until it no longer just is.
casual. the two of you had agreed to keep it casual. no strict attachments. no commitments. just testing out the waters between the two of you, seeing how far you can go.
it creeps in slowly, like love dripping out of a small puncture in the tube, quietly soaking the floors.
chuuya doesn’t realize how much space you’ve taken over until it is too late. his heart is full and his only escape—his penthouse—now has traces of you everywhere.
the red-rimmed mug you always drank from whenever you were there. that one specific brand of wine whose name you can’t pronounce for the life of you but you swore was the best you’ve ever had. the vase on his round dining table you always replace with a flower from the bouquet he’d bought from you.
he doesn’t notice it until it’s all over the place.
your side of the bed. your spot on the couch. your seat on the table. your favorite spot in the balcony. the corner in the shoe rack for your pair of the day. your spot on the coat rack. the slot in the fridge where you’d keep your water bottle.
and then it seeps everywhere.
your favorite food. your good morning texts. the hour of the day when you and him get to text the most. the hour of the night when you’re more fragile than usual. your perfume. your clothes in the laundry. your toothbrush on his sink. your hair fanned on his pillow.
yours, yours, yours.
when chuuya first started seeing you he didn’t imagine it would become something like this. there was only a flash of attraction, a hint of a grin on the corner of your lips after he’d first met you that drove him to reach out to you even when he knew from the bottom of his heart that it would be better to not do that at all.
and yet look at what following his heart got him?
so, months and months after you’d first started taking root in the garden of his mind, in the carpeted floors of his penthouse… he decides he is way better off sealing the deal.
“…what’s this for?” you ask, gasping at the sight of the copy of the penthouse key in his hands, the one he was offering to you.
“nothing,” chuuya says, solemn smile on his face. “just yours.”
bungou stray dogs | G | 492 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/OC
sometimes, it’s all about the little things.
chuuya really hasn't known "intimacy" in the short span of his life. and he admits this to you, early on in your not-yet-relationship, that while he knows how to be a gentleman in theory- the concept of being someone's boyfriend is a territory he hasn't really explored.
sure, he's had a few trysts himself, he's no saint. and the mafia makes it easy to get ahold of warm bodies. but he's smart enough to figure out that none of those really counted for the definition of "intimacy" he's had in his head.
nevertheless, chuuya's surprisingly good at it.
which is so annoying because he doesn't see how good he is at it, no matter how hard you try.
you tell him, and he'll say, "isn't that just... basic boyfriend things?" and when you say, "no, you're like, way better than half the male population of the world", he'll say, "okay, what the hell are you buttering me up for?" even when you aren't!
so you decide- a final act of retaliation- that whenever he does something intimate, loving, caring, for you, you would give him a little kiss. less a reward, and more of an acknowledgment of what he's doing, maybe until he finally connects the dots.
(and he doesn't, not at once, but...)
he notices.
like when you're watching a movie seated on the couch and he grabs your hand. he does it for comfort, really- he knows you're pressed against his side already but having your hand in his is always an extra level of warmth. he's just running his thumb over your hand as the movie goes on, when you turn to press a kiss on the corner of his shoulder. a little kiss, not much, and you lean your head back against him soon after.
or like when you're venting to him about a hard day, and he cradles you in his arms until the pain goes away. and when you're done rambling, or crying, or shouting, you are there, lying with your back to his chest, the comforting scent and warmth of him around you. you pull his one hand up to your mouth to give it a kiss.
sometimes it's not even something as tender as that, sometimes you are out having a date at the amusement park and chuuya comes with you to all the rides you want to try but are too scared to go to alone. he holds your hand the entire time as the both of you yell for your lives, the rollercoaster dipping into an exciting drop. when you're done, breathless, you press a kiss to his cheek in thanks.
it's all the little things, really. and chuuya has a hard time believe you are content with only this. when really, only this is all and more than you could have ever wanted.
chuuya really hasn't known "intimacy" in the short span of his life.
bungou stray dogs | G | 699 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
you and chuuya are on a weekend getaway trip, and you can’t reach your back to put the damn sunscreen on.
"can you help put sunblock on my back, chuuya? I can't reach it."
you ask, innocently waving a bottle of sunblock at his face. the two of you had rented out a little hut by the beachside, where you'd enjoyed a delicious lunch together and are now enjoying the afternoon sun and breeze in the shade.
"going for a dip, babe?" he asks, taking the bottle from you as you walk towards the reclining chair. he shakes it to listen for its contents; still half full. he'd used it to cover himself up earlier, too. you shake your head.
"not really, just gonna lie in the sun a little. maybe get a nice tan."
"you're already pretty tanned from our stay here, yanno?" he says, raising an eyebrow. he uncaps the bottle and squirts a good amount on his hand.
you put your tongue out. "well, i wanna enjoy the sun a little bit more, is that so bad?"
somehow, chuuya's managed to persuade his boss out of letting him take friday and monday off, leaving you two a beautiful four-day weekend out by the beachside. he'd booked the absolute most beautiful resort- of course- with the best amenities known to man. the private (section of the) beach was one of those.
chuuya's hands on your shoulders are heavy but comforting, and you feel the cool of the sunblock against the sea breeze spreading throughout your back. you don't hold back the little groan that comes out of you as he massages the lotion into place, all while keeping a very heavy, massage-like touch over your back.
"damn, and a private masseuse too?" you tease, and chuuya only laughs and gives your (tender, achy) shoulders a good, welcome squeeze. you let out another sound of approval.
"maybe instead of being out at the beach you should be in the spa," he offhandedly mentions, putting another blob of sunscreen onto his hand. this time for your exposed lower back. "you're so tense everywhere."
"but i wanna enjoy the beach," you frown, as his hands trace the dip of your spine and gently go over your sensitive sides. "i can go there at night."
"we can go together, i don't mind one go," chuuya says, now letting his fingers press tantalizingly along the line of your spine. something in your back feels like it's clicking into place, being pressed back to where it belongs, and you sigh at his touch.
chuuya claps his hands once he's done and you flip over in the reclining chair, grinning. "if ever you quit the port mafia, you've got a second career going in that."
"putting sunblock on people?"
"being a tease of a masseuse," you laugh, pinching his nose. chuuya frowns until you let go, but it bears no weight.
it is only then that chuuya finally gets a clear look on you, your two piece swimsuit's deep color stark against the tone of your skin in a beautiful contrast. your hair tied up in a messy bun on top of your head, sunglasses resting just above your forehead. the necklace he gave you once and you never took off still hanging on your neck. your skin glowing ever so lightly from the thin sheen of sunscreen.
suddenly, he's left with a desire to pounce.
he jumps over you, tumbling you back into lying position on the recliner, towering over you with his hands by your sides. a flash of surprise comes over your eyes before it becomes recognition. behind him, the sun is a beautiful golden glow, reflecting off of the red strands framing his face.
you waggle your eyebrows. "see something you like?"
"want my dessert," he grins, and you grin back.
"have a taste then."
the kiss he leaves on your neck is wet and sloppy and so full of sunblock that chuuya has to lift himself back up and make a face of disgust. you'd expected the reaction and you laugh as he wipes his mouth with his hand.
"silly chuuya," you grin, taking his hand and tugging him into the waiting water. "come on, let's rinse it off?"
chuuya doesn't half mind licking saltwater off your flesh later on.
