#prince chuuya x snowzai

[ohhcinnybuns]

As you know, it is dangerous to go alone.

Two twin stars in the loneliest, darkest of night will always find their way back to one another,

They've shined before and they'll continue to shine, as they've shown

That no matter what may come their way, they'll always remember the colors of summer

' don’t venture too deep into those fields, and don’t answer if i call. ' 😏

The Setting Sun

Chuuya waited anxiously, his thoughts running a million laps around himself. He had invited Dazai to brunch in his study, requesting his company, and even though Dazai confirmed he would be there, he had yet to show.

Chuuya nervously tapped his fingers on the desk as he glanced at the small food plates he had chosen for the occasion:  wheat bread, cranberry jam, strawberries, leafy green spinach, and slices of glazed ham with a rotini pasta salad. A bottle of wine sat in an ice bucket to chill, a pair of wine glasses reminiscent of tulips waiting for their sweet nectar to fill their filament. He glared at them. 

The longer he sat there, scrutinizing the setting, the more his brows twitched in annoyance. Then he looked down at himself in his white shirt, navy coat, and black trousers. It was too much. The whole ordeal suddenly felt much more than a brunch, or maybe he was overthinking it. Or maybe not. Was it not enough? He decides all the mental gymnastics are unnecessary as his thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door, and he quickly sits up, composing himself. He clears his throat. 

“Yes?” 

“Your Highness, Dazai-san is here,” comes the voice of a maid as she enters his chambers.

“Let him in.” 

“As you wish,” giggles the maid to herself, a sly look on her face as she glances at the food spread with mischief in her eye. She wiggles her brows at the young prince. Chuuya scowls, about to growl with a retort to quit her meddling, but stops his childish antics when Dazai enters the study. 

He held a baked pie in his ivory gloved hands, wearing a soft blue frilly dress with one side of his hair tucked behind his ear. His features were covered in a sheer powder almost unnoticeable to the eye but that enhanced his fair complexion alongside his mousey, wavy curls. The faintest trace of peach blush blended on his cheekbones, and on Dazai’s lips was a subtle tint of glossy pink pigment that reminded the prince of enticing cotton candy from his Kingdom’s festivals. The brunette’s eyelids had traces of smoky earth shadow that made Dazai’s irises stand out like polished jewels, thoughtful yet striking. 

The prince gaped, a small “wow” muttered to himself. The maid excuses herself with a smile, flashing both men a quick glance, before closing the door behind her and leaving them alone. 

“Your Highness,” the brunette speaks timidly at Chuuya, striding forward, head bowed. 

Chuuya is immediately out of his seat, the sight of the brunette and his pie is endearing. He pulls out the chair opposite his for Dazai, letting him sit before taking the pie and putting it on the desk with the rest of the servings. 

“You don’t have to call me that, you know. We’re alone now.”

“Ah, I did it again, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ll keep reminding you if I have to,” Chuuya says with a smirk. “You’re my guest, and I want you to have fun. So, Chuuya. Just Chuuya,” the redhead adds softly. 

Dazai looks away but nods his head with a pout. “I know but… it’s so hard, especially when everyone calls you ‘Your Highness.’” 

“That’s not true. Only the maids call me that. Everyone else calls me Chuuya.”

Dazai blinks owlishly, and a simple “oh” comes out of his mouth. His lips then curve upward slightly, playfulness in his eyes. 

“Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya. I guess it is a little easier to call you this way.”

Chuuya beams. “Get used to it,” he says. It makes Dazai giggle and he nods politely. 

“I also didn’t take you for much of a baker. You surprise me with something new every day.”

Dazai hums, his hands resting neatly in his lap. “I made it this morning, and your maids offered to store it somewhere safe until our brunch.” 

“Well, aren’t they helpful?” Chuuya says with an eye roll, sarcasm oozing out of him as he strides back into his seat and crosses a leg over the other. “Sometimes, I think they have too much time on their hands,” he adds jokingly.

Dazai giggles, a finger coming to point at himself. “You’re telling me. They took me away afterward and did this to my hair and face.” 

Chuuya blinked momentarily, silence settling between them before realizing Dazai was on the edge of his seat, staring back at him expectedly, wide doe eyes awaiting his reaction. Heat rushed to Chuuya’s face as he instinctively leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words to explain Dazai’s beauty. In the end, he decided on something simple and not too cringe-worthy. 

“They did that, huh? You look nice.” 

Dazai grins and nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling brightly, his cheeks rosy. “Mhm! I thought so, too! I think I’ll ask them for tips and tricks on how to do it myself when I see them again. I like it a lot. I feel very pretty.”

You are, thought Chuuya as he leaned over to place a small plate before a distracted Dazai. The brunette was busy fawning over the miniature feast, his eyes glowing when he spies a bowl of plump strawberries. 

 “I hope everything is to your taste. I can always send for something else if you want,” the redhead says, taking the wine and uncorking it, then filling their glasses and placing one before Dazai.

Dazai removed his gloves, taking the glass stem between his slender fingers. He lifted it close to his lips, mesmerized by the burgundy liquid, taping it thoughtfully. 

“Everything looks delicious, Chuuya. I don’t think I’ll be able to ask for anything else.”

“Oh yeah?” smirks Chuuya, placing the bottle aside. He receives a small ‘mhm’ from Dazai, who sips his wine with a gentle tilt. The redhead reaches for a small serving of each item on the desk and places it on Dazai’s plate first, then his own. 

“You might be right. We need to leave room for dessert, after all.”

They were still pretty new to this - being on speaking terms and friends. It wasn’t that long ago that Chuuya picked up Dazai from the depths of a forest, his heart and soul resonating when they met on that fateful day. After two weeks of initial silence alongside judgmental looks, hearing Dazai’s voice again was lovely. Listening to him express himself and blossoming out of his shell made Chuuya happy, too. 

They eat their brunch through idle chatter, discussing Dazai’s morning and baking skills. Chuuya questioned what other things Dazai could make, placing his head in his palm and fondly gazing at him. 

With a shake of his head and a shrug, Dazai gives a simple, “I don’t know. Everything else I’ve tried kind of catches fire. The only thing I know how to bake perfectly is apple pies.”

The men simultaneously stare at each other and giggle together, the wine warming their insides and loosening nerves. It felt easy and comfortable, falling into a rhythm of teasing and banter. Chuuya can’t remember the last time his walls crumbled this easily.

After they’ve calmed down, Dazai takes the pie and serves Chuuya a slice. The redhead mutters a small ‘thank you’ with a cheesy grin, and Dazai hums happily. Something about the moment felt delicate, maybe even domestic. 

It’s the wine. Nothing more, he tries to tell himself. The prince looks down at the pie: flaky crust with perfectly sliced, glazed, and sautéed apples. Chuuya takes his fork and quickly spins it with his fingers like a miniature baton before poking a sliced apple and taking a bite. His gaze widens at the first taste of soft apple and cinnamon melting into his taste buds, and he stares at Dazai, who gifts him a knowing smile in return. 

“This is delicious!” 

Dazai giggles, a hand to his lips. “You should see the look on your face.” 

“I never said it would taste bad,” Chuuya grumbles. “You need to give yourself a little more credit. It really is delicious. Maybe I’ll request your pies more often from now on.”

“Chuuya!” gasped the brunette dramatically with wide eyes. “I’m a very busy person, you know! I won’t always be able to bake you pies,” Dazai says teasingly. 

Chuuya stifles back a laugh, nodding his head instead. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. I guess you’ll have to take me on as an apprentice and show me sometime.” 

Dazai grins, a quiet giggle escaping his lips. “Hmm… an apprentice, you say? I like that idea.” 

They grin at each other once more and continue the rest of their brunch in giggle fits. 

***

Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, they had finished their brunch and spent too much time exploring Chuuya’s study. Mostly Dazai, who seemed to look at everything with wonder. 

Dazai became curious about the shelved lined books behind Chuuya’s desk: poetry, fiction, herbalist notebooks, and history textbooks, some worn with age and knowledge of the Kingdom’s past. 

Dazai’s eyes lit up when he found an intrinsically gold leather-bound book with empty, lined pages, confused by the lack of letters. His fingers skimmed the pages as if reading an imaginary poem.

“Have you never had a journal before?” Chuuya asks from behind Dazai, leaning against his desk, as he reads over a report brought in by his maids. The brunette turns to Chuuya and shakes his head, a soft “no” mumbled quietly. 

“Do you want it?” 

“You’re giving it to me?” 

“Yeah, why not? You can write whatever memories you make of this place.” 

Dazai blinked owlishly down at him, and he gripped the notebook tightly to his chest. “I did always want to try my hand at poetry.” 

“Then a notebook is a perfect place to start.” 

Dazai nods timidly, holding the notebook tightly to himself, before moving on to an obscure twisted metal in the form of a dancing soul. His gaze analyzed the items as if afraid to touch anything. Chuuya’s heart softened, and he was ready to show him his entire study so that he could keep witnessing his curiosity.

Along the walls hung portraits of generations of King and Queens posing on their thrones and world maps to places explored. At one point, Dazai stood before a sizable tapestry that hung on the wall marked with constellations beneath a darkening sky and a tree at its center - the only thing he touched, fingers skimming over the material. 

Chuuya was about to ask him his thoughts when Dazai turned to look out the windows. A soft gasp escaped his glossed lips, sparkling in wonderment, and Chuuya could only tilt his head with a subtle, “What is it?”

Dazai moved past Chuuya, the prince quietly following behind him in curiosity until Dazai opened the doors to his balcony and stepped outside. Chuuya remained at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he took the beautiful picture of life before him. 

Dazai’s hands gripped the rails tightly, and he seemed in awe, lost in thought as he gazed at the eastern panorama of the wheat fields that led to the woodlands, mouth slightly agape. His frilly, powder blue dress swayed gently in the open breeze as watercolors of feathered fuschia, topaz, caramel, and moss streaked the celestial sphere. Now and then, he tucked a stray strand of hair back into place in a small, almost unconscious gesture. 

Then, Dazai’s lips slowly curved upwards, eyes crinkling, reflecting the sun’s warmth. He leaned against the railing, appearing to be revisiting a joyful memory, a spark of life illuminating his features as he watched birds fly overhead toward the setting sun. A small bird lands beside him, twittering and ruffling its feathers, making the brunette beam and pet the feathers on their back. Then, he began to hum. 

It started low, as if afraid to disrupt the scenery around him. It was a tender, melodic tune. It was sorrowful but full of colors that made Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow at first and then widen. His mouth slackened at its familiarity. Too familiar. 

Visions of his childhood flash through his mind as he recalls the apparition that has often appeared in his dreams since he was fifteen. Intimate and dear to him, the pieces connected in crocheted red threads. Dazai was familiar. The voice was familiar. 

Chuuya takes staggered steps towards the balcony, his body suddenly feeling light in his movements, but that’s when Dazai finishes his crooning, and Chuuya is left with a heavy heart, wanting to hear more—the voice of the angel who always called out for him until they didn't any longer. 

“Dazai?”

The bird flies away. Dazai turns his head, a fond glow on his features, a hand extending towards Chuuya. Chuuya swallows whatever knot forms in his throat and takes the hand, coming closer, much like every other time they’ve met, but this time, Dazai was warm - flesh and bone in his hands. It was like watching a rose bloom after a winter’s frost, petals no longer withered, flourishing, and vibrant beneath the remaining daylight. 

“You never told me you had a view like this, Chuuya. It’s stunning.” 

“You think…so?” responded Chuuya shakily. 

Dazai tilted his head slightly, silence stretching between them as he took Chuuya’s appearance beneath the setting sun. He gazed deeply at Chuuya, and the prince could feel his face heat up beneath such attention. 

The brunette eventually giggles, head thrown back to look at the clouds again. “Mn. I wonder if the night sky is equally beautiful now that I see this. Will you show me sometime?”

Chuuya takes the hand that holds his, threading their fingers together and placing it on his chest—an oath. It makes the brunette look owlishly at him, but Chuuya doesn’t care. He answers instead, “I will. I promise, Dazai. Anything you want.”

***

Lit brass lanterns flickers idly, its soft, warm glow emitting dancing shadows along the barn’s settling enclosures. Horses paw at wood chips, followed by low snorts as they meander in their stalls with flicking ears. They attempt to glimpse through the metal bars at the intruding visitors in the unoccupied enclosure toward the corner of the building, speaking in quiet tones. 

A wispy draft enters from the blanketing night and through the ajar barn doors, where Chuuya stands in the stable’s open tack room just off its entrance, patiently waiting for Dazai in the opposite stall to give him the okay to turn around. It was an attempt at giving themselves privacy with the half partition of the stall dividing them, minding each other’s distance. 

“Alright, no matter what happens, don’t turn around even if they call my name. The night’s watch will know it’s me pretty quickly, and if they see you with me, they’ll be nosey,” Chuuya smiles, fondly rolling his eyes at the idle polished saddles and reins neatly perched upon the wall. He recalls the numerous times his sentries on duty often found him after dark, proud for fulfilling their protective responsibilities over the years. They were taught well. 

Chuuya picked up his black leather gloves from on top of a nearby table, pulled them on, and stretched the material slightly until they felt comfortable. He then gathered a deep gray cloak resting neatly on the table, wrapping it around his shoulders and tying it quickly, hoping it would help blend him in with the night. The final touch was raising his hood over his head. 

“Hopefully, they won’t see us, though. I’m not really looking to entertain them tonight. Being on duty for too long has made them into gossipy ol’ men... I apologize in advance.”

“Eh, is that so?” comes Dazai’s playful tone, curiosity embedded in his question. Chuuya didn’t have to turn around to know Dazai was tilting his head a little, his sunrise gaze analyzing him from a distance. 

“How nosey can they be?” 

Chuuya can hear boots being pulled on, and there is a subtle creak of shifting leather as Dazai moves from one foot to the next, a sigh escaping his lips in quiet disapproval. 

“I don’t like these,” the taller man groans, soft pats against his frame. It is followed by adjusting rustling clothing and more frustrated whining before Chuuya takes that as a sign to turn around and enter the stall. He chuckles, half expecting Dazai to be a crumpled mess on the hay bales.

Still, as his gaze met Dazai’s figure, he stumbled a bit in his step, noting how his kingdom's riding gear fit him nicely: borrowed knee-high black boots, slender fitting cream breeches, and an ivory shirt beneath a maroon tailcoat adorned with gold buttons. He was pouting, arms folded across his chest, but even with Dazai's moody disposition, he looked like any other riding knight ready to mount with years of experience beneath his belt. Chuuya steeled his sudden nerves. 

“Y-you say that now, but I don’t think dresses and heels would be the best idea for where we are going,” Chuuya says through blushing cheeks and a slight shake of his head. “You’ll want to be as comfortable as possible.” 

“And where exactly are we going, Your Majesty?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Dazai tilts his head to one side with a raised eyebrow, skeptical, while Chuuya quickly looks him over. He walks around Dazai and gives him a thumbs-up with a cheesy grin. 

“You look great." 

Dazai smiles weakly with a nod, the compliment lifting his spirits. "If you say so, Your Majesty." 

"Quit that. Here. The final piece." 

Chuuya drapes a long arctic fox fur-lined robe he had taken from his closet around Dazai's shoulders, knotting the front of the cape and adjusting the cloak so that Dazai’s frame is fully enclosed. Dazai also tugs at it, feeling the robe’s smooth material between his fingers and looking down at himself in the new attire. 

Pools of honey gaze back at Chuuya, who stands on his tiptoes, tugging the hood over Dazai’s head and adjusting it. The position brings them close together, Chuuya smiling softly at how warm and saintly Dazai looks. He had looked for over twenty minutes in his closet to find this one in particular cloak because it was the one that reminded him of Dazai the most - a beauty fair and calming like winter’s first snow. Granted, it might make them stand out a little more than he liked, but he couldn't say no to it. As he takes in Dazai’s features, he can’t help but caress away the curls that frame Dazai’s face that had pushed forward because of the hood, unruly but silky to the touch. 

Dazai stills, gaze fluttering, and Chuuya notes faint traces of pink creeping on his cheeks at the sudden affection. It makes Chuuya chuckle at how much Dazai reminded him of poetry. He once heard in passing that ‘the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul,’ and perhaps he was starting to think the words were true; there was so much more to the brunette behind his fair exterior. He was enigmatic - a riddle within his book of stanzas waiting to find meaning. There was so much more that he didn’t know but that he wanted to. Only time will let him in to know. 

Chuuya steps away, clearing his throat and giving one final glance, hands on his hips, admiring his work. He nods and reaches for a brown sack with things he thought they could use on their little expedition left outside the stable door as the final thing to grab. He slings it over his right shoulder and turns back to Dazai. 

“Are you ready to go?” 

“Are you sure it’s okay to do this, Chuuya?”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody’s gonna know.”

“But…Shouldn’t you be at a meeting right now?” 

Chuuya coughs, nervously laughing, a hand at his neck rubbing to ease his nerves. "I… uh…No?”

"I don't know if you’ve noticed, but it’s evening hours, Your Majesty. Didn't you need to meet with your brother, His Highness Verlaine?”

“Dazai…” Chuuya sighed as he looked away sheepishly, gently kicking some straw of random hay with his chocolate-leathered boots. The prince’s heart starts racing, and he feels heavily nervous beneath Dazai’s stare. 

“I mean…it’s just…” the redhead tried again, grumbling words that disappeared in his throat. He’s never felt like such a fumbled mess before. All those years of speech and mannerism training, only to forget them whenever they came together and talked. The prince was sure that if his speech coach saw him now, he would wonder what happened to him while clutching at their chest in dramatics to pull himself together. 

And honestly, what did happen to him? 

Dazai beams joyfully down at him, waiting for an answer, eyes formed into happy crescents. The beat of the prince’s heart thumped wildly against his ears. He couldn’t focus. 

“I think he’s going to know if you’re gone, Chuuya,” Dazai teases, showered with delight. 

“I’m busy… we’re busy—you and me. He can wait,” Chuuya says quietly, tucking on his hood to shield himself as pink hues shade his freckled cheeks. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, okay? I promise it’s not that important.” 

“It isn’t?"

Chuuya shakes his head. “Nah. It’s about some guy who appeared out of nowhere and settled in town. He’s been saying some stuff and Verlaine wants me to look into it.”

“I see,” Dazai says, leaning away. He mulls over the answer, a finger to his chin before deciding it’s a good response.  “Well, okay then. If it’s not that important… whenever you’re ready, Your Majesty. Take me away.”

Chuuya huffs, hiding a smile that takes over his features as he turns away. That’s precisely what he was going to do. He smirks, taking hold of the lit lantern and blowing out the light.  

“Alright. Come on, then, Princess. Follow me,” he says playfully, catching the way Dazai giggles behind him.  

The prince leads them out of the stall, and they tiptoe toward the exit, cautiously peering around the corners of the barn into the darkness. The courtyard around the barn remained still; only the rustling of leaves nearby filled the atmosphere. He didn’t expect anyone to be on guard there anyway. Most of his guards patrolled the gates and cobbled walls. That was going to be his challenge. 

With no one in sight, the redhead grabs Dazai’s icy wrist before turning to him, motioning a finger to his lips. Dazai nods his head and repeats the motion to show his understanding. Silence. Chuuya grins and pulls him along. 

They round corners, hiding behind wooden pillars and sheds, leaving the barn behind. They remain in the shade, beneath trees, until they reach the easternmost exit of the Castle’s walls. It was the one that led them closer to the wheat fields, avoiding the village and stirring sleeping folk. The fewer eyes on them, the better.

They hide behind a bush, and Chuuya surveys their surroundings to ensure the coast is clear. Guarded by two officers idly joking, Chuuya pulls out his brown satchel and retrieves a slingshot with rocks. He figured the further he could put distance between the guards, the gate, and themselves, the easier it would be to sneak and get away. So he pulls, aims, and lets loose, targeting the trees on their left shoulder, rustling the leaves, and stirring sleeping birds awake. 

Startled, the guards reach for their swords and are immediately on alert. One of the guards, a young man with rust-red hair, strolls over to check the bushes surrounding the tree, using his sword to part the greenery. 

Chuuya takes this time to slingshot another rock towards the stairs’ entryway leading up the wall. The second guard, a man with wild brown hair and a hat, hears the echoing rattle of the rock hitting stone and makes his way to the stairs to ensure no intruders have climbed the wall; this is their chance. 

“Come on,” whispers Chuuya to Dazai, who nods, following behind. They swiftly make it to the gate, unlocking the mechanism before the patter of boots return. Chuuya instinctively steps before Dazai, telling him to shield himself. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t His Highness, Chuuya. Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with Verlaine?” calls one of the guards with a giant grin. 

Not this again. Chuuya can't help but internally groan. He could feel Dazai’s shoulder shaking, tiny squeaks emitting from behind Chuuya's back, and Chuuya couldn't help the little grin that made it on his face, too. He knew the brunette was chuckling away. 

“Uh, yeah. We finished our meeting early. Now I’m going on a mission to check the town square,” Chuuya lied through his teeth. 

“At this hour, sir? Do you need company? You can take one of us with you,” says one of the guards, their eyes looking between Chuuya and the unknown cloaked figure in white. 

“No need. I’ve already got someone.” 

“And they are?” 

“A recruit. I’m taking them to the square, and we’ll be back soon. It’s just a stakeout. Nothing more,” Chuuya says while turning to grab Dazai by his shoulders, ready to push him along. He had never realized their broadness before. 

The guards squint between the two figures, then quirk their brows at each other. Chuuya clears his throat. “Don’t overthink it.” 

“Right,” says one of the guards with a smirk and slight squint. “Because if you wanted to go to the town square, you would use the southern entrance. Not this one.”

“You’re already overthinking it!” growls Chuuya through the teasing. “We’re just going a roundabout way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Your Highness. Alright, off with you. We’ll keep the gate unlocked. Give it three quick taps when you return so we know it’s you, or we will send a search party after you.” 

“That really won't be necessary,” Chuuya grumbles, but either way, he nods his head. “I’ll see you in a bit.” 

He turns to Dazai and whispers a quick “run,” and that’s all that needs to be said. 

They hurry into the dark, giddy with excitement, hearts fluttering wildly. They pull and push each other like two dancing magnets down a winding paved road, unable to stray far. The prince’s chest fills with warmth whenever he hears the happy jingle in the brunette’s laugh, recalling the teasing his knights gave him. Chuuya chuckles and rolls his eyes fondly with a simple, “I told you they were nosey.”

They fall into quiet steps side-by-side, over a wooden bridge where the grain fields begin. The prince clears his throat and gently leans into Dazai’s side, putting a hand out for him to take and looking away sheepishly. 

“The fields can be a bit soft sometimes. So… um, you can hold my hand if you want. You know, so you don’t fall.”

Grazing deer perk high among the fields while singing crickets guide their way. The prince’s heart beats wildly when slim fingers slide into his hands, their fingers interlocking. He smiles and leads on. 

They walk east, hand in hand, filling in chatter with talk about tomorrow, palms clammy. Dazai occasionally tries to figure out what they are up to, but the redhead hums in approval at everything he says, making Dazai pout and tell him ‘that he’s being unfair and a liar.’ Chuuya chuckles and instead points ahead. 

“You don’t have to keep guessing, silly. We’re already here.” 

They reach a hill beyond the wheat fields and climb its side until they reach its plateau - a large ginkgo tree at its center, fanning its limbs wide to embrace its late-night visitors. Dazai steps closer, mesmerized by it; even in the dark, the magnificence of its size and its golden colors widen the brunette’s eyes. He plucks a fan-shaped leaf from its lower branches, twirling it in his fingers as a gentle breeze sways its limbs. 

“It’s beautiful,” the brunette says, bashfully peeking back at Chuuya. 

“I thought you would like it… History says it was planted when the first King was born. But that’s not why we’re here.” 

“Oh?” Dazai tilts his head, fluttering his eyes as Chuuya lets his hand go to open his sack. The redhead pulls out a thin blanket, lays it on the grassy hillside, and pulls out a small retractable device. He then turns to Dazai, his hand once more extended in invitation. Dazai accepts, sitting beside him, their sides touching and close enough for Chuuya to feel his warmth. 

“You said you wanted to see the night sky, right?” Chuuya smiles brightly at the brunette, “Here. I’ve got something for you.”

He revealed a maroon and gold telescope with the prince’s initials engraved at its sides. He holds it out for Dazai to take, who stares at Chuuya in wonder. 

“You…remembered?”

“Of course I did. It was a promise, and I will always keep those.”

Dazai’s lips parted, eyes round and then softening into warm globes. He takes the device and clutches it to his chest as if it were something to treasure. A smile then appears on his face, and he leans his head against Chuuya’s shoulder. 

“You really are something else, Chuuya. One of a kind,” the brunette speaks softly into the wind. Chuuya is ready to tell him it’s no big deal when a soft peck meets his cheek, rendering him speechless. The kiss lasts a few seconds, and the lingering feelings of soft lips against his skin keep it warm. 

“I’m happy you thought about me, Chuuya. Thank you,” Dazai says, leaning his head again on Chuuya’s shoulder.

The prince nods, brushing away brown strands from the brunette’s face. He beams down at him, a small “yeah” echoing into the dark.