Arctic Monkey's irreverence makes me want to write very british SKK OS

Dazai and Chuuya walking in London in the middle of the night, leather jacket for the red-hair, raincoat for the tallest. Chuuya is all about punk rock while Dazai prefers a good whisky and mint cigarettes.

It's been raining and the paved roads are shining. They stop near Chuuya's motorbike and he sits there with legs open while he lights a smoke.

"Heading home already?" he asks Dazai.

"I have work tomorrow."

"Work my ass. As if you cared."

Dazai laughs and slowly approaches him. "What if i stay?" he asks. Their head is still dizzy because of the bass they heard all night in this rock club. The band was shit but the booze was OK. OK enough to make them drunk.

Chuuya grins as Dazai comes closer but he grumbles when the tall dude stops a few feet away from him.

"Don't play hard to get."

"I don't play." Dazai smiles. "You are mine already. No need to rush."

"The hell i'm yours."

"Go, then."

"I am drunk, i cannot drive."

"There we are. Shitty excuse. You've been more inventive." Dazai pulls aside the flaps of his jacket while he leans agains the nearest fence, a foot on the metal behind him.

He takes out a cig of his pocket and looks for a lighter he does not have. He smirks. Really?

"Throw me your lighter." he asks from far.

"Come and get it." Chuuya orders as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Nonchalant, Dazai comes close.

Chuuya activates his lighter and waits for Dazai to lean on him before he takes off the tobacco stick from his mate's mouth and replace it with his lips. Gotcha.