It’s a rare occurrence that Chuuya decided to drag you with him after work, sharing drinks at a bar close by the Port Mafia’s headquarters. Most often, he finds himself sporting smokes between gloved fingers and drowning in alcohol alongside Hirotsu and Kaiji. Really, you’re a much better option.

The amount of empty glasses surrounding the pair of you steadily increased, and so the distance between you both decreased.

Chuuya’s cheeks are coloured a light hue of red from drink, his breath hitching when you lazily pressed yourself closer.

“Didn’t know you got this clingy after just a few drinks…” he chuckled, in turn, loosely letting his arm wind around your waist.