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Monday, April 27
Their real estate agent led Chuuya and Dazai through the office suites on the top floor. This building was aimed at smaller, boutique companies rather than large corporations. The building was only twelve stories, and was located in a part of Yokohama that could pass for part of a much smaller city, with more separation and greenery between buildings, rather than massive walls of skyscrapers. The exterior was a clean and pleasant white, and the windows would not have looked out of place in a private home; they were large and inviting, but rather than being solid walls of glass, they were set pleasantly within the walls and had muntins and attractive casings. Since the suites were aimed at very small companies with few employees, the rooms were generously sized for a house, rather than great caverns. The office suites were light and airy, and looked less like corporate spaces and more like high-end apartments.
As Tajima walked them around, Chuuya muttered under his breath to Dazai, “I really like this one.”
They stood in the reception area of one of the empty office suites, looking around. The view out the windows was attractive. Tajima opened the door to one of the personal offices for this suite, remarking apologetically about its small size. Chuuya looked inside and made a non-committal noise. Tajima moved to the other office doors and Chuuya took the opportunity to murmur to Dazai, “This could be the master suite. The offices on that side would make really nice walk-in closets. And the conference room on the other side could be a master bath.”
Dazai nodded imperceptibly. The other suites could function similarly. They could convert one to a spare bedroom suite, and others could have the interior walls knocked out to make larger public rooms like a living room or home office or gym.
Dazai looked down affectionately at his husband. The expression on Chuuya’s face was neutral, almost bored, but he had been an open book to Dazai since the day they met, and Dazai could see that he was nearly vibrating with excitement.
“Excuse me,” Dazai said to Tajima the next time she paused for breath. “Would you please give us a few minutes?”
“Certainly,” she said. “I’ll wait out in the hall.” She closed the door into one of the smaller rooms of the office suite, glanced around to make sure nothing was out of order, and then went out through the main door into the hall, closing it behind her.
“I really, really like it,” Chuuya burst out eagerly, turning pleading eyes on Dazai.
For a moment, Dazai was stopped in his tracks by those enormous, earnest blue eyes. Unfair, pulling out the big guns, he thought. Nevertheless, he stayed logical.
“This one honestly doesn’t tick off as many of our bullets as I would like,” he pointed out. “Yes to helicopter pad; honestly surprising in a building this small. Yes to attractive,” and Chuuya bounced and nodded vigorously. “Yes to easy to remodel into a nice apartment. Eh to size: this floor would be really well-sized to become a penthouse apartment, and it’s enough bigger than our current one to allow for the gym and extra rooms you wanted. But if we still want to put our company offices here as well, we’d have to give some of that up, and the offices would still be a lot smaller than we’d planned.”
Chuuya fired back, “Not eh to size, yes to size. She said the top three floors are currently unoccupied. So we could get the top floor as our apartment and the one below as our office. That would probably be better than dividing a single floor of a much bigger building up into living and work, since we wouldn’t have to allow clients onto the floor we live in that way.” His eyes were anxious and still pleading.
Dazai partially conceded. “All right, yes to size. About 80% yes to location: it’s a nice area, but it isn’t as convenient to shops and restaurants as our current apartment.”
Chuuya said, “I think 80% is good enough. So we might have to go ten minutes farther to get to restaurants and the grocery store. But honestly, we get some of that back by only having to take the elevator down twelve floors and not forty-two.”
“You make a good point,” Dazai admitted. “And on-site storage, I’d say yes, because even though there’s no ‘building’ storage, if we take both floors we have probably three to four times our current space, so we can certainly allocate one room on each floor just for storage.”
Chuuya started to bounce on the balls of his feet and then restrained himself.
Dazai looked at him and said, “Concierge, no. They have one receptionist in the lobby, during business hours. Not an actual concierge, and certainly not round-the-clock service. And no restaurant in the building, and we’ve gotten very used to having that.”
Chuuya’s enthusiasm took a bit of a check. “Yeah,” he said. “The concierge was a nice-to-have, and I can live without it just fine, but the no on-site restaurant kind of blows.”
“And finally,” Dazai said sternly, “the security is inadequate. Yes, the building locks at night and requires a keycard, and there’s a security guard on duty around the clock, but that’s not enough.”
He looked at Chuuya’s dejected face and softened. “We won’t rule it out.” Chuuya’s face lit up again. “But we should keep looking, before we make a decision.”
“Fair enough,” Chuuya said. He laced his fingers with Dazai’s, and they headed for the door to join Tajima.
Five hours later, they had seen three more locations, and come to the realization that the property Chuuya had fallen in love with - and that Dazai certainly agreed was very appealing, despite its flaws - was probably going to be as good as they would find, if looking for a commercial space to convert. There was no reason for any commercial space to have a full-on concierge service or more than a token night guard, and the others were, if anything, less conveniently located to residential amenities.
As they left the final property, Chuuya and Dazai huddled together again.
“The apartments we looked at last week would all be a downgrade,” Chuuya pointed out. “And we ruled out hotels and conference centers, because them having a concierge and restaurant and security is offset by the fact you’ve constantly got tons of unscreened people coming in and out. And for the commercial spaces we saw today, the pretty one is just the best.”
Dazai looked indulgently at his beautiful, wistful husband. I can add security myself, he thought. I’d prefer to have supplemental building security as well, but - I can make it work.
“All right,” he said, and Chuuya lit up, his smile blinding.
“Really?” he asked, bouncing on his toes.
“Really,” Dazai said, and they walked back over to Tajima.
“We’re interested in the top two floors of the first building we saw today,” Dazai told her. “Would you please contact the owners and let them know we’re interested in a long-term lease, and that we will want to do extensive remodeling at our own expense? Please find out what they would be asking for that.”
Tajima assured them that she would contact the owners as soon as she returned to her office, and drove them back to the penthouse.
Later that evening, Chuuya and Dazai had finished dinner and migrated to the sofa to watch a movie. Chuuya’s phone rang, and he checked the caller ID and jumped to pause the tv and take the call, putting it on speakerphone.
“Hi, this is Nakahara,” Chuuya said. “Dazai’s with me.”
Tajima’s voice was apologetic over the speaker. “I’m very sorry to bring bad news, but I contacted the owners of the property you were interested in, and they’re unwilling to commit to a long-term lease for any of their office units, or to allow tenants to do any remodeling. They feel, reasonably enough, that making those commitments would make it difficult for them to sell the building, should they wish to.”
“Oh,” Chuuya said, his voice subdued. “I see.”
Dazai, watching him with sympathy, spoke clearly so as to be heard over the speakerphone. “Thank you for letting us know. We’ll consider some of the other properties, but can you keep looking? Now that you know our tastes, perhaps something similar will pop up.”
The real estate agent apologized again and assured them that she would keep looking, and then hung up.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dazai said, reaching out to squeeze Chuuya’s hand. “I know how much you liked that one.”
“Yeah,” Chuuya said. He leaned his head against Dazai’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
About half a minute later, instead of unpausing the tv, Chuuya raised his head and asked, “Do you mind if I go hit the gym?”
“Help yourself, sweetheart,” Dazai assured him.
He remained on the couch as Chuuya rose and went to the bedroom to change into workout gear. Suddenly Dazai’s gaze sharpened.
As Chuuya came out of the bedroom, Dazai smoothed his expression. Chuuya went to the kitchen and filled a water bottle, and then headed back through the living room to the front door, saying, “I’ll be back in half an hour or an hour.”
“Take your time,” Dazai said mildly. He picked up the remote and turned off the tv and listened until he heard the ding of the elevator outside. A cautious one minute later, he went to the front door, checked through the peephole to verify Chuuya was gone, and then headed for the home office. He opened his laptop and started it booting up as he took out his cell phone and prepared to multitask.
Tuesday, April 28
“Do you have tea with Kouyou today?” asked Dazai, sipping his coffee as he watched Chuuya dive into his breakfast.
“Yeah,” Chuuya said. “I think she wants to wish me a happy birthday.”
“Don’t accept any wine from her,” Dazai said lightly.
“Hey, go fuck yourself,” Chuuya replied, equally cheerfully.
“But you’re so much better at it,” Dazai protested.
Chuuya smirked, and returned to his breakfast. Between bites, he volunteered, “I’d invite you to come along, but I don’t trust you.”
“I’m glad to see your judgement remains unimpaired,” Dazai said. He eyed Chuuya unobtrusively and judged that the banter had successfully relaxed his guard. “I’m going to be going out today for a while, too. I’ll probably be out at lunch, but should be back for dinner.”
Chuuya looked sharply at him. “You better fucking not be getting me any more birthday presents. I’ve seen that pile in the office, what the fuck?”
Dazai rolled his eyes. “I promise, I have no intention of buying you anything today,” he said. “With the possible exception of supplies to make your birthday cake,” he amended, telling the literal truth.
Chuuya continued to look at him with mistrust, and then shook his head and dived back into his food. “All right, have fun, then,” he said. “What do you want me to cook tonight?”
Wednesday, April 29
Chuuya awoke on his birthday to lips against his neck and collarbone, and fingers trailing lightly over his body. Eyes still closed, he smiled and stretched with a self-satisfied little hum of pleasure. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Dazai’s lips turn up in a smile, and he stretched again, arching up into his husband as Dazai’s lips began to work their way down his body.
A very enjoyable wake-up later, Dazai emerged from under the covers and headed for the bathroom to answer the overdue call of nature. As he came back out, Chuuya stretched out a hand, and Dazai came back to the bedside and took it with a smile.
Chuuya tugged a little on Dazai’s hand. “Thank you,” he said. “Come back to bed? I can wake you up, too.”
Dazai smiled deeper. “No need,” he said. “I’m going to go make your birthday breakfast. Crepes okay?”
“Always,” Chuuya said.
He watched, hands behind his head on the pillow, as Dazai disappeared into the closet and came back out in black slacks and a white button-down.
“Ooooh, do I get the apron again?” Chuuya asked enthusiastically.
Dazai came back to the bed and leaned down to give his husband a kiss. “Yes,” he said. He struck a pose. “Can’t ruin this look, can I? I have to have an apron.”
Chuuya pulled a hand out from behind his head and reached up to tug Dazai back down for another kiss. “Yay,” he said, and Dazai laughed and left the room. Chuuya stretched one more time, and then vigorously flung off the covers and rose to meet the day.
Chuuya sauntered into the kitchen and over to the stove, where Dazai had a pot on the back burner cooking down something that smelled delicious, as he simultaneously made crepes in a wide flat pan on the front burner.
“That smells amazing,” Chuuya said, wrapping his arms around Dazai from behind. He reached down and toyed with the narrow white satin ruffle on the edge of the tailored black apron, and then slipped his hands into Dazai’s front pockets, pressing himself against his husband.
“Thank you,” Dazai said, reaching his left hand back to stroke Chuuya’s hip. As his hand touched fabric, he turned in surprise.
“Hello,” he said with conviction, his voice deep and interested. “When did you get that?”
Chuuya preened, gratified by Dazai’s reaction. He looked down at the thigh-length crimson and gold silk robe and then grinned cockily up at his husband.
“Birthday present,” he said. “Don’t know whether you threatened her or not, but Kouyou didn’t give me wine this year.”
“No, actually, I didn’t,” Dazai said, drinking in the sight of his vivacious husband. He spun quickly and moved the current crepe onto the stack next to the stove, and set the spatula down and turned back.
Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around his husband and bent, bestowing an open-mouthed kiss upon him as his hands slipped down the silk to cup Chuuya’s buttocks. Chuuya leaned up into him, pressing their hips together as he returned the kiss.
After a few moments, Dazai withdrew, pausing to allow his eyes to rove over Chuuya’s form, and then shook his head. Turning back to the stove, he poured another cup of batter into the pan and began tilting it to spread it thin. “I’ll have to send her flowers or a fruit basket,” he said. He reached for a spoonula and stirred the pot on the back burner.
“Apple, cinnamon?” Chuuya posited.
“And brown sugar,” Dazai said.
“Feed me,” moaned Chuuya in response, turning to go make tea.
Breakfast was delicious and leisurely, and Chuuya felt lazy and contented as he ate several apple-filled crepes and one of fresh strawberries and cream.
The relaxed, pampered vibe continued as the day wore on. The couple spent a leisurely hour or so on the couch chatting after the breakfast dishes were done, and then Dazai headed for the kitchen to begin making Chuuya’s birthday cake. He allowed Chuuya to join him in the kitchen for the preliminary stages, and only kicked him out when it was time to begin decorating the cake.
Around two o’clock, the cake was complete and Dazai had hidden it in the refrigerator. He joined Chuuya in the living room on the sofa.
“Our dinner reservation is at five,” he said. “I’d like to do presents after dinner instead of before, if that’s okay with you.” He leaned in and mouthed at Chuuya’s neck again, fingers curling up through his hair.
“Fine by me,” Chuuya said, dropping his head backward. He made a catlike noise, and then raised his head and pushed Dazai backward until he was lying down on the sofa, and clambered atop him.
Later that evening, they entered the elevator, remaining polite and quiet for the first twenty or so floors until the other occupants had exited. Once the doors closed behind the last to depart, Chuuya turned and wrapped his arms around Dazai, hugging him.
“Thanks,” he said. “Dinner was great.” The French restaurant Dazai had taken him to had been very much to his taste, and the wine pairing the sommelier had suggested had gone beautifully with the steak Diane. Chuuya had looked longingly at the creme brulee on the menu, but had skipped dessert at the restaurant, knowing he had a birthday cake waiting for him. We’ll have to go back sometime.
“I’m glad,” Dazai said, wrapping his arms around Chuuya in turn and bending his head to kiss him warmly. After a moment he raised his head. “And tomorrow night I’m going to take you to the Crystal Lounge, since you didn’t get to really dance when we went out with the guys,” he said, and Chuuya grinned in delight and pulled him back down.
They passed the remaining minute or so quite pleasantly, and then drew apart upon reaching the penthouse floor.
As they entered their apartment and began removing their shoes and outerwear, Dazai said, “I’d like to do presents first, and then cake, if that’s okay. Scratch that, I’d like to do presents first, then cake, and you don’t get a say.”
Chuuya chuckled. “Fine by me, pushy.”
Dazai led him to the home office. As they walked through the door, Dazai began, “I didn’t actually get you a present.”
Chuuya raised an eyebrow and gestured to the pile of large, gift-wrapped boxes. “Then what the fuck is all that?” he asked.
Dazai picked one up and handed it to him. “I got you a promise, instead.”
Chuuya studied him for a moment, intrigued by the wording, and then began removing the wrapping paper. He looked at the box and his heart thumped.
“It’s a litter box,” he said, as if Dazai didn’t already know.
“A promise,” Dazai said softly, looking at the naked emotion in Chuuya’s face. “When we have our new place.”
He started handing the other boxes over, one by one, watching as Chuuya unwrapped the yet-to-be-assembled cat tree/scratching post, and the cat bed, and the fresh-running water dish, and the food dish with an electronic dispenser that could be set to a schedule, and the brushes, and the toys.
Once the cat supplies were stacked in a pile and the wrapping paper neatly folded for disposal, Chuuya threw his arms around Dazai, who hugged him back tightly.
“Thank you thank you thank you, this is the best present I’ve ever not received yet,” he said, and Dazai burst out laughing.
He squeezed Chuuya once more, and then stepped back from the hug, taking Chuuya’s hand and leading him to the kitchen. “Cake now,” he said, as Chuuya looked back at the pile of gifts.
Dazai seated Chuuya at the battered kitchen table, still not replaced since the incident, and went to remove the cake from the refrigerator. “Don’t peek,” he said as he set it on the counter.
He collected a pair of dessert plates and forks, and a cake knife, and ferried them over to the table, and then went back to the cake. He busied himself for a few moments with a single candle and a lighter.
Lifting the cake, he carefully made his way back to the table, singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as he did so. As he set the cake down in front of Chuuya, his husband laughed.
“So that’s why I didn’t get a say in the order of events,” Chuuya said, grinning down at the cake. He blew out the candle and then plucked it from the cake, laying it on the side of the plate. “Aw, it’s so cute!” The cake was a standard round layer cake, but Dazai had used orange-colored frosting to make a cat as decoration.
Dazai cut the cake, dishing up a large slice for Chuuya and a small slice for himself. Chuuya bit into it.
“Oooh, almond!” he said, eyes wide. “It’s great, babe,” he said enthusiastically. He paused. “Do we have any amaretto?”
“On it,” Dazai said, rising. He went and rummaged in the drinks cabinet, and a minute later returned with a small glass of Disaronno, which he placed in front of his husband. Chuuya ate another bite of cake and chased it with a sip of Disaronno, then closed his eyes in bliss.
Dazai ate his small slice of cake as he watched Chuuya race through his own.
“Delicious,” Chuuya said, eyeing the sliver remaining of Dazai’s slice with poorly concealed impatience. His foot bounced under the table vigorously as he said, “Thanks, this has been a great birthday.” He bounced to his feet and headed to the sink, washing his dessert plate and fork and racking them.
Returning to the table, he watched, standing, as Dazai ate his last bite of cake. “You all done?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dazai said, rising to his feet with a smile. He reached for his dessert plate and fork, and carried them to the sink.
“I’ll just put the cake back in the fridge,” Chuuya said, suiting the action to the word. Mission complete, he hovered nearby, vibrating with excitement, as Dazai finished washing and racking his dishes.
“So,” Chuuya said, “maybe we should start looking at those other properties, since the good one fell through.”
Dazai nearly laughed aloud. Good job, sweetheart, you saved me from having to come up with an excuse. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go to the office.” He's so excited now, he's willing to settle for a place he wasn't enthusiastic about, just to speed up getting a pet. Well, we can't have that.
He followed Chuuya, who was striding at a near-jog, back to the home office. Chuuya maneuvered around the pile of cat supplies and reached for his laptop, glancing over at the loveseat.
Dazai sat in the office chair, his own laptop still centered on the desk, and patted his lap. “More comfortable to have the computers on the desk than our laps,” he said.
Chuuya smirked. “You just want me sitting in your lap,” he said.
“Not just,” Dazai denied. He smirked as Chuuya came around and set his laptop next to Dazai’s and settled onto his lap. Dazai claimed a kiss, and then another, before turning to open his laptop.
Chuuya opened his own laptop and launched his email, pulling up the real estate listings that they had most recently viewed, and then stopped, his attention arrested by Dazai’s screen. “The fuck is that?” he asked. Dazai’s screen was entirely occupied by a spreadsheet.
Dazai reached around Chuuya, taking the smaller man’s hands in his own, piling their joined hands loosely in Chuuya's lap. “I have a proposition to run by you,” he said, his voice a low purr.
Chuuya shivered, momentarily thinking events were about to take a more sensual turn. But Dazai's next words took him by surprise.
“After Tajima called, it occurred to me that perhaps the owners’ concerns about ‘if they chose to sell the building’ might be a more immediate concern for them. You said yourself, the entire top three floors were unoccupied, in a twelve-story building. I contacted her and found out that the building is only half-occupied.” Dazai’s voice remained smooth and low.
Chuuya turned in his lap, hanging on every word, eyes wide and lips parted.
“I had her check with them, and I spent yesterday meeting with them,” Dazai continued. “The building was built right before the pandemic, and was initially hugely popular. However, with the lockdowns, it was largely vacated. And when large corporations started bringing employees back on site in the big buildings like the others we looked at, little boutique companies with only a few employees were more prone to just remain remote, or work out of their homes. The owners of this building are running in the black, despite the low occupancy, but not by nearly enough to justify tying up that much capital. They’re looking for an out, so they can sink their money into something with a higher return.”
Dazai nodded his head at the spreadsheet, and Chuuya turned back around, breathless, to look at it.
Dazai moved the mouse around, highlighting sections of the spreadsheet.
“I got them to share some rough financials with me. Here we have the annualized property taxes, and this is the insurance. This is the aggregate annualized utilities cost - water, electrical, sewer, HVAC, etc. This line is for the receptionist, and this is for the security guard, I’m calling those out separately for a reason. Maintenance, housekeeping… they have a building manager, even if we choose our own, the cost should be comparable-” Dazai continued reviewing costs for a while.
“Extrapolating to full occupancy raises the utilities cost to this number, but the rest would be unchanged. On this line, we have the rental income from the current tenants. Even if we incurred full occupancy expenses with no additional rental income, you can see it would still break even, barely.”
He switched to a different tab of the spreadsheet. “So this is their initial proposed asking price. I have no doubt I can bargain them down significantly. The renovations to the top two floors would be a significant expense, so we need to estimate that, as well as moving costs etc.”
“And security,” Chuuya said, frowning in concentration. “We might want to replace the elevators with ones that can restrict access to the top two floors.”
Dazai hummed and nodded in approval, inserting a row into the spreadsheet for security upgrades. “For the current owners of the building, it’s an investment that’s supposed to bring in a lot of rental income, and it isn’t doing that. Even if we’d taken the top two floors long term, it wouldn’t make them as much money as an open-office large footprint building would. But we wouldn’t be looking at it as an investment; for us it would just be a home. As long as the rental income pays for the property taxes, utilities, and upkeep, that’s all we need. And we could actually use the empty units to resolve a couple of the issues that we had with it. The tenth floor, the one that’s completely unoccupied? Since we don’t need the rental income from it, we could offer the entire tenth floor to a security firm for a massively discounted rent, in exchange for them providing a reduced rate on security for our building. We’d get better security than we have now, while netting a modest profit on the transaction. And, depending on what the situation is with the unoccupied offices on the ground floor, we might be able to entice a restaurant with the same sort of reduced rent incentive. It almost certainly wouldn’t have as wide a menu or as long hours as the one in this building, but it would be a bonus just to know that we could grab lunch on-site when we wanted to, or if we were having a long day and didn’t want to trek to a restaurant or order delivery, we could run down and pick something up before they closed for the day. There would be a certain amount of expense involved in converting one or more offices into a restaurant-”
Dazai’s presentation was interrupted by Chuuya twisting in his lap to twine his arms around Dazai’s neck and kiss him exuberantly.
A few minutes later, Chuuya pulled back, lips red and swollen, and said, “Let’s come up with a very rough estimate for the initial remodel, not counting the restaurant, and see how much of our blood money this would eat up.”
“We’ll have to do the math,” Dazai said, “but honestly I think we could probably pay for it entirely out of Ace’s personal assets, without having to even dip into the Port Mafia blood money.”
Chuuya frowned. “We didn’t ask Mori for Ace’s personal assets,” he said. “Wouldn’t they have gone to his heirs?”
“He had no family and died intestate,” Dazai said. “No, I didn’t ask for them, I just took them. He tried to murder you, and he almost succeeded. Everything he had was forfeit, not just his life.”
“Fair enough,” Chuuya said. “If we don’t even have to dip into what we took from the Port Mafia, then it sounds like a no-brainer.”
Dazai nodded. “And remember,” he said, “while the money won’t be earning, it won’t be completely lost, either. The building will maintain most of its value, and if and when we eventually retire, we can sell it and at worst we might take a small loss.” He leaned forward and whispered in Chuuya’s ear. “But we won’t take a loss. If we sell it down the road, we’ll convert the whole thing to luxury apartments, and they’ll go like wildfire to corporate executives who want to live in Yokohama proper but would like the feel of a house, just like us. It’ll be easy to sell at that point.”
“God, you’re fucking awesome,” Chuuya avowed, and turned forward again. He reached over to his own laptop and switched from his email to open a spreadsheet of his own. Flicking through the tabs, he settled on one. “Okay, here’s what I had estimated in general to install bathrooms and a kitchen…”
He began transcribing numbers from his own spreadsheet to Dazai’s as they sat, cuddled in the armchair at the desk, Dazai's chin resting on Chuuya's shoulder.
Thursday, April 30
Chuuya ushered Dazai through the door of the Crystal Lounge, his hand imperceptibly slipping as they walked until it was more on the swell of Dazai’s ass than the small of his back.
“You did great in the meeting today. I didn't think you'd get them down that low. Can we spend tomorrow playing with the floor plan? I’m so fucking excited,” he said, unconsciously speeding up, his hand more pushing Dazai forward than guiding him. “Wish we could sign the papers right now.”
“It’s better if we go ahead and finance it,” Dazai said, accelerating his pace to humor Chuuya. “Less likely to attract unwanted attention from regulators and the National Tax Agency.”
They reached the bar and Dazai ordered sake. Chuuya ordered a spritzer and listened, uninterested, to the song currently playing. Once they had their drinks, they migrated in the direction of the dance floor.
“Two weeks isn’t that long,” Dazai said. “And it gives us time to start working with an architect on the remodel. That’s going to take much longer than two weeks just by itself.”
“Bullshit,” Chuuya said as they approached a small high-top near the dance floor. “You weren’t around when I ran that project on the Kannai office, were you? I’ll get the same guy.”
Dazai smiled and set his drink down on the table, and then shrugged out of his coat, hanging it on the back of the barstool. “I look forward to seeing you work,” he said. “But still, two weeks isn’t that long to wait.”
Chuuya set his spritzer down and removed his own jacket as well, eyeing Dazai appreciatively. The charcoal grey brushed silk shirt his tall husband wore clung lovingly, as did the soft black slacks that had been his go-to since they started dating.
“Yeah,” he said, his attention diverted. “It’ll be ours soon enough.” Chuuya licked his lips as he admired his husband. He raised his glass, and his eyes gleamed. “Let’s fucking celebrate.”
Dazai smiled wickedly back at him and raised his glass to touch Chuuya’s. “Yes, let’s,” he said in a husky voice.