Chuuya had a relatively peaceful Saturday afternoon. It was cloudy, but the light of resilient sun peeked through the clouds every so often to cast a warm glow among their room. The curtains were open, allowing the full, ethereal effect. (There was just something about quiet afternoons and the warmth of the sun on your skin.)

Chuuya had gotten a day off, and spent most of it lying in bed with Dazai. (The damn mackerel was lazy like a lump on a log. How irritating.) Chuuya, restless and craving activity, had left to go out for groceries. Before he had left, he encouraged Dazai to do something with his time other than lie in bed and watch Bluey. (Ever since Dazai found out that the color scheme of Bluey’s family was mostly blues and yellows because dogs saw in those colors, Dazai teased Chuuya about him finally having a chance to watch TV properly.)

Now, after a few hours of household and some personal shopping, Chuuya arrives home. He doesn’t bother putting any of the stuff away right now. He hadn’t gotten anything frozen, anyways.

Chuuya saunters to their room, pushing open the door and scanning the bedroom. He finds Dazai on the bed (shocker.) Dazai was on his stomach, feet swinging cheerfully in the air while he hummed a little tune. And — oh. Mhm. Dazai’s ass looked nice in those sweatpants.

Chuuya hums low in his throat, walking over and putting a knee on the edge of the bed for stability as he leans over Dazai’s behind. He cups Dazai’s ass in both palms, giving the plump cheeks a firm squeeze. Dazai’s ass was probably one of his favorite things, especially when it was hugged by tight pants.