Dawn broke, the first hues of pink and gold creeping across the horizon, painting the sea in soft shades of pastel. Chuuya sat in his reading chair in the executive suite he had at headquarters, watching the play of colors through the floor to ceiling windows. He normally didn’t spend much time in these rooms, preferring the privacy of his own apartment. However, lately the suite had seen more use. The reason for that was currently slumbering on the sofa, a soft blanket drawn over his shoulders.
The morning light really suited Akutagawa, Chuuya thought. It imbued his cheeks with a rosy glow they normally lacked and softened his features. With his lashes resting against his cheekbones, lips slightly parted, and the frown line between his brows nonexistent, he looked at peace.
Much younger — or rather, like his actual age.
With a soft hum, Akutagawa snuggled further into the blanket, fingers twitching where they clutched at it. His hands were elegant, his wrists delicate. The hair at the back of his head was tangled, and Chuuya itched with the urge to smooth it down, brush his fingers through it.
He forced himself to look away.
It had been a few weeks since Chuuya realized how pretty Akutagawa was. They had been spending more time together over the past half year. The treason of a certain person had brought them closer together. Chuuya continued Dazai’s training — or rather, he started to actually train Akutagawa, rather than grinding him under his heel as Dazai had done. In return, Akutagawa sometimes kept Chuuya company on his bad nights, quietly sitting with him and sipping on a drink neither of them was old enough to legally buy.
It was on one of those occasions, after a difficult mission they had mastered together, when Chuuya realized that Akutagawa wasn’t just a feral, vicious dog. Akutagawa had used Chuuya’s bathroom to wash the blood from his face and put on one of Chuuya’s spare shirts. Despite their height difference, the shirt looked big on Akutagawa. The guy was just terribly thin. Delicate. Yet strong, and always aiming to improve. His sharp features had an otherworldly beauty to them that drew Chuuya in.
With a soft sigh, Akutagawa blinked his eyes open. Silver and rain clouds.
“Morning,” Chuuya whispered.
Akutagawa groaned and sat up, blinking.
Cute, Chuuya thought, and felt his cheeks heat up.
“I’m sorry, Chuuya-aniki,” the boy rasped. “I have not been a good drinking partner to you tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chuuya said. “You needed the sleep.”
Akutagawa hummed. “I guess so. I haven’t slept much this week.”
Akutagawa hesitated, then nodded.
“Wanna talk about it?”
The other shook his head. “There’s no point.”
Chuuya both agreed and disagreed. Nightmares were part of the job, they weren’t going away anytime soon. And yet, talking could help. Hirotsu-san listened to Chuuya ramble about his, sometimes.
Even though Akutagawa wouldn’t talk to Chuuya about the dreams, Chuuya still felt honored that Akutagawa would come to him, that he trusted him enough to sleep on Chuuya’s couch. That his sleep was calm and undisturbed with Chuuya watching over him.
“It’s early. Feel free to go back to sleep,” Chuuya said with a smile.
“Hnn. Maybe for just a little bit.”
Akutagawa lay back down on his side and drew the blanket over himself. He was restless though, shifting back and forth.
“Chuuya-aniki. Aren’t you tired as well?” One gray eye was open, blinking lazily at Chuuya.
All at once, Chuuya felt bone-weary, felt his muscles ache and his dry eyes burn.
“Suppose I am,” he admitted.
Akutagawa lifted one side of the blanket, scooting back against the sofa cushions to create a space.
“Hurry up, it’s getting cold,” Akutagawa scolded.
Chuuya swallowed. He brushed his open vest off his shoulders and got up from the armchair with a groan. Quietly, he approached Akutagawa and sat down, then stretched out next to the other. He tried not to touch him, but the sofa was too narrow for that. Akutagawa struggled with the blanket, so Chuuya used his ability to drape it over both of them. Akutagawa sighed in contentment, snuggling closer.
“You’re warm,” he mumbled into the crook of Chuuya’s neck.
Chuuya felt his face burn. It’s your fault, he thought.
Akutagawa’s breath brushed his neck, and a thin arm crept around his waist.
It was nice.
Chuuya had never been held like this, innocently, just seeking warmth and companionship.
He wrapped his fingers around Akutagawa’s hand and relaxed.
Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, lighting up the luxurious apartment. It found two boys asleep, dreaming deeply of things far removed from their violent lives. Their fingers and hair were entangled, and a hint of a smile played around their lips.