[ Three words should pale in comparison to all the times they've saved each other; Chuuya salvaging the battered bits of Dazai's demonic soul and breathing humanity into him with every minute they've shared. And Dazai doing the same in return, pulling him from the brink every time Chuuya has thrown himself over and submitted his soul to the wicked force of nature that Corruption is.
After all the late night misadventures, sleepless nights wrought with traumas weathered together like the two orphans they've become and a youth of shared scars to the point that if they lay naked each could trace their joint injuries from lessons hard-learned together, like a road-map of lives lived on the edge...
At what point did he ever not love Chuuya? Wholly. Completely. As much as one small speck of dust in the Universe can desperately need another to exist. ]
Do I have to say the words?
[ Chuuya crashes into him, unrelenting and ferocious, like one solid, towering wave whose undertow seems to take hold of Dazai's body and soul with the unwavering intent of dragging him with it. Hot-mouthed kisses are swallowed down en-mass without any effort at pacing himself as Dazai immediately takes the reins, turning that one hard push of contact Chuuya initiates into a continuous stream.
Every open mouthed and wet kiss, scattered between all the hungry licks of his tongue, are I love yous stacked one on top of the other. Words that Dazai's much too fractured heart has ever been able to heal enough to feel worthy of speaking, even when Chuuya needed it most.
One hand may steadfastly stay on Chuuya's face, but the other twists into the leather straps at his partner's torso. With one singular but ever present pull Dazai drags them together, aligned more or less chest-to-chest. Hands still only when the rise and fall of Chuuya's every breath molds against his rib-cage, feeling achingly like his partner is just now burrowing into his heart. As if Chuuya hadn't made his home there, nesting in the cradle of Dazai's chest, when he first laid eyes on Chuuya seven years ago and felt dry-mouthed and weak-kneed and awed for the first time in his life.
Always, always, no matter how close they are no amount of contact is enough. So leather straps go free, released as he seeks out better options with a desperate haste that speaks of an urgency better suited to first times and first kisses, yet somehow fits this moment now. ]
Hold onto me.
[ No further words or unspoken warnings litter the path to where Dazai plans to take them as both arms slip low around Chuuya's center. It's telling enough, how he leans in first, balancing their weight on Chuuya's stool in preparation for something before tilting back and hauling his partner back to straddle Dazai's hips.
If Dazai has been evasive about what he wants, that single mystery of his often obscured heart should begin to dissipate when Chuuya is pulled around him like a warm coat, draped over Dazai from the arms he hopes stay slung over his shoulders, to the deliciously satisfying fullness of Chuuya's entire weight pushing into his pelvis. Chuuya makes up for his vertical shortcomings in a way that's felt in his larger than life presence, and the solidity of a body that feels like being wrapped under dozens of blankets in the dead of winter and pushes away any doubt that Chuuya is atop him, here and now. ]
If you asked me how to find happiness- I couldn't tell you where to go.
[ In the midst of relocating their contact falls away, leaving lips free to finally say something. Because Dazai has a lifetime's worth of things left unsaid for too long, and he could fill up every waking moment, if he allowed himself the honesty, to admit all the things he ought to have said years and years ago. ]
It's not a place or a purpose for me. But a person.
no subject
[ Three words should pale in comparison to all the times they've saved each other; Chuuya salvaging the battered bits of Dazai's demonic soul and breathing humanity into him with every minute they've shared. And Dazai doing the same in return, pulling him from the brink every time Chuuya has thrown himself over and submitted his soul to the wicked force of nature that Corruption is.
After all the late night misadventures, sleepless nights wrought with traumas weathered together like the two orphans they've become and a youth of shared scars to the point that if they lay naked each could trace their joint injuries from lessons hard-learned together, like a road-map of lives lived on the edge...
At what point did he ever not love Chuuya? Wholly. Completely. As much as one small speck of dust in the Universe can desperately need another to exist. ]
Do I have to say the words?
[ Chuuya crashes into him, unrelenting and ferocious, like one solid, towering wave whose undertow seems to take hold of Dazai's body and soul with the unwavering intent of dragging him with it. Hot-mouthed kisses are swallowed down en-mass without any effort at pacing himself as Dazai immediately takes the reins, turning that one hard push of contact Chuuya initiates into a continuous stream.
Every open mouthed and wet kiss, scattered between all the hungry licks of his tongue, are I love yous stacked one on top of the other. Words that Dazai's much too fractured heart has ever been able to heal enough to feel worthy of speaking, even when Chuuya needed it most.
One hand may steadfastly stay on Chuuya's face, but the other twists into the leather straps at his partner's torso. With one singular but ever present pull Dazai drags them together, aligned more or less chest-to-chest. Hands still only when the rise and fall of Chuuya's every breath molds against his rib-cage, feeling achingly like his partner is just now burrowing into his heart. As if Chuuya hadn't made his home there, nesting in the cradle of Dazai's chest, when he first laid eyes on Chuuya seven years ago and felt dry-mouthed and weak-kneed and awed for the first time in his life.
Always, always, no matter how close they are no amount of contact is enough. So leather straps go free, released as he seeks out better options with a desperate haste that speaks of an urgency better suited to first times and first kisses, yet somehow fits this moment now. ]
Hold onto me.
[ No further words or unspoken warnings litter the path to where Dazai plans to take them as both arms slip low around Chuuya's center. It's telling enough, how he leans in first, balancing their weight on Chuuya's stool in preparation for something before tilting back and hauling his partner back to straddle Dazai's hips.
If Dazai has been evasive about what he wants, that single mystery of his often obscured heart should begin to dissipate when Chuuya is pulled around him like a warm coat, draped over Dazai from the arms he hopes stay slung over his shoulders, to the deliciously satisfying fullness of Chuuya's entire weight pushing into his pelvis. Chuuya makes up for his vertical shortcomings in a way that's felt in his larger than life presence, and the solidity of a body that feels like being wrapped under dozens of blankets in the dead of winter and pushes away any doubt that Chuuya is atop him, here and now. ]
If you asked me how to find happiness- I couldn't tell you where to go.
[ In the midst of relocating their contact falls away, leaving lips free to finally say something. Because Dazai has a lifetime's worth of things left unsaid for too long, and he could fill up every waking moment, if he allowed himself the honesty, to admit all the things he ought to have said years and years ago. ]
It's not a place or a purpose for me. But a person.