Chuuya is in his room tossing and turning in his bed. It feels cold without Dazai’s warm body next to him, but he’s still pissed off at him. He constantly flirts with girls, despite being married to him. A man. Chuuya hates how jealous he gets of the women, since he’s supposed to hate the bastard, but can you blame him? He married the guy, of course he’s jealous.

Chuuya groans in frustration and sits up in bed. He scowls and throws the covers off of himself, padding downstairs to where he banished Dazai to the couch. He stares at his husband’s lanky form curled up on the couch, which is too small for his taller stature. He sighs, and hesitantly walks over there.

The redhead crouches down and lightly strokes Dazai’s hair. “Osamu?” he mumbles, feeling a little guilty about snapping at him. I mean, the brunette did tone down the flirting. He only does it to annoy Chuuya, but he caught the ginger on a bad day.