Dazai and Chuuya had never exactly had a healthy relationship, that much was obvious to anyone who even took a glance in their direction.

Yet, it only seemed to worsen over the years. As Chuuya slowly began to trust Dazai again, he became more dependent on him and his affection after a long day—yet Dazai wasn’t always there for that.

Dazai had finally started working, genuinely, again, for the first time since the mafia, and it held him back a lot. Sometimes he wouldn’t get in until almost three in the morning.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Dazai stumbled through the front door, almost collapsing from sheer exhaustion as he placed his stuff down and hung his coat up, slipping out of his shoes as he brushed right by Chuuya and walked into their bedroom.

Chuuya’s jaw tightened at that, and he followed Dazai in. “Oi, why the hell are you ignoring me?” he snapped.