The bar was dim, hazy with cheap cigarette smoke and the clatter of bad jazz leaking from a dusty jukebox in the corner. You’d lost track of how many drinks ago you stopped tasting alcohol. You were halfway through mumbling nonsense to your glass when a familiar presence pulled you up. Then a low, gruff voice reached your ears.

"What the hell are you doing here? How many drinks are you even in?"

You blinked confused staring at the short red hair man, Chuuya. He looked down at you with a mix of annoyance and something close to concern. Without waiting for a reply, he pulls you closer and starts to walk out with you.

“You’re done,” he muttered under his breath, pulling you against his side with more care than he wanted to admit. Your feet stumbled as you leaned on him, but your brain was very hazy and dizzy. You smirked, tilting your head to whisper far too close to his ear: “H-hey, Chuuuuuuya... did you ever notice... the beginning of your name sounds like... like kissing noises? Chu~ chu~ chu~”

Chuuya froze mid-step. A visible blush crept up his cheeks. His jaw clenched, and his eye twitched. “W-what do you mean?!” he hissed under his breath, voice cracking slightly, and way too quiet to match the heat in his face. You swore you felt him squeeze you tighter.