"What the /fuck/," Chuuya said, arms crossed and a large bump on his noggin from hitting the floor head-first, "are you two doing in my apartment?"
"Your apartment?" Atsushi was seated on the couch. "What do you mean, your apartment, Chuuya-san?" Akutagawa predictably said nothing, sitting in contrite(more) silence beside Atsushi.
"I mean, my apartment," Chuuya looked around the apartment, hands on his hips. "I haven't been by in nearly a year, I thought I'd get some space from the office only to get interrupted by," he surveyed Akutagawa and Atsushi, "fraternization."
Atsushi thought about saying something about the very clear and obvious love bite on Chuuya's neck, but decided to stay silent on the matter.
"How did you even get a key to my apartment anyway?" Chuuya had moved into contemplative, arms folded. Atsushi, hands on his knees, waited patiently as Chuuya's face twisted in realization. "Dazai."
"He said it was neutral ground," Atsushi offered. "And that we could use it as often as we liked."
"I'm sure he did," Chuuya said darkly. "DAZAI." The way he raised his voice on the name made Atsushi startle, until there was shuffling heard from the hallway and Dazai meandered in, yawning.
"Thought I heard something tiny yelling," he said, wearing nothing but his bandages and a blanket over his shoulders.
Atsushi and Akutagawa stared at him for a good thirty seconds, before Atsushi's gaze redirected to the floor, face bright red. Akutagawa continued to stare. Chuuya seemed oblivious to Dazai's stages of undress, turning toward him and pointing. "You gave them a key to my apartment! MY! APARTMENT, DAZAI."
"You weren't using it," Dazai shrugged. "You have three-they needed a safe place to screw around, this is one." His head wobbled slightly as Chuuya shook him.