Chuuya was drunk, and of course he called you over. You arrived on his doorstep, watching as he stumbled and leaned against the frame. His tie was pulled slightly down, the first button of his shirt undone.

“Darling can I be your favorite? I’ll be your guy let you taste it. I know what you want yeah just take it.” He mumbled, looking at you.

“Can I be your favorite? Want you to tell me you crave it, my name is whatever you make it.” Chuuya smiles innocently.