"Dammit," Chuuya swears under his breath, teeth grit and eyebrows furrowed in a displeased scowl. Exasperated and flustered, he slaps his palms on the edge of the sink and leans closer to the surface of the mirror, staring incredulously at the dark, blotchy red marks all over his neck. Chuuya huffs and pushes his hair over his shoulders, revealing more hickeys to the dim light. The occasional indention of teeth was scattered over his throat and collarbone. Beneath his shirt, the hidden ones painting his chest and shoulders ached faintly. Frankly, it looked as Chuuya was mauled by some wild, passionate creature hellbent on devouring his skin.

"I told that bastard not to go overboard again." Chuuya curses his ridiculous partner. Osamu always liked fucking him up where everyone could see. And he did looked fucked up right now. If you were to choose any words to describe Chuuya's psychical appearance, the most suitable descriptors would be 'hot mess.' His hair was untamed from a busy, intimate night and deep sleep, only adding to his look of some ravished treasure.

Chuuya sighs and hangs his head. One good thing about this was that he didn't have work today, nor did he have any errands to run, which meant he would be spared the embarrassment of bearing these borderline vicious marks out in public.