I've no objection to a little rough play. But only if you kiss it after!
[ The addendum is there for provocation only. Then again, when is it ever anything but? Dazai can't often resist trying to stoke the flames of embarrassment any way he can, when Chuuya wears a blush like the finest adornment. The red flush darting up fair skin compliments him, head to toe, coaxing Dazai to loiter at least long enough to take a mental snapshot of how cute Chuuya looks- tiny, flustered and completely at his mercy.
He has to leave before the compulsion to press kisses to his partner's small frame overrides good sense and reason. ]
It's a date, then. Once you're at a size where I can actually feel it.
[ There are few enough patrons littered about to really pay Dazai any mind, even after his unabashedly salacious offer airs itself in public. The downside of this fact is that Chuuya will essentially be left to his lonesome until Dazai returns. While Dazai would next to never describe his partner as vulnerable, no matter his size, the fauna here are probably worse than a rogue crow that would try to make a meal out of such an adorable morsel. Dazai hadn't had the time to study up on all of the dangers here, and executing a plan without knowing all the ins and outs never sits well with him.
So once he makes his way over to where one of the locals is preparing beverages and edibles for the recent deluge of insatiable tourists, he'll lay down some silver. It's a bribe of course, tailed quickly by a threat to ensure the local is properly motivated, so that nothing untoward will happen to the munchkin curled up in his clothes.
Once a promise is given to watch over both Dazai's coat and the precious cargo upon it, he'll leave for the healer's hut once more. This time, line or no, Dazai is able to procure an antidote. Certainly in part due to several tricks up his sleeve.
He returns quickly enough, picking up his prior order on his way back to the table. On the tray he brings over is Khalo's take on whiskey, a glass of ice water water, the antidote and two dishes of food that come highly recommended by fellow visitors. He wagers that if Chuuya is thirsty, then hunger is sure to follow. So why not tackle two birds with one stone?
Except that the sight of Chuuya curled up into himself, knees pressed to his chest like a child shielding itself from impending harm, completely derails all of those thoughts. He doesn't just look small and vulnerable- right now Chuuya is and he knows it. Seeing him like this wracks Dazai's heart with an ache that refuses to ebb away. At least not until he comes up behind that figure to softly brush the shape of knuckles oh so gently against the slope of a tiny back.
If Dazai hadn't known that he'd sacrifice everything, even his own life and every chance at happiness, all for Chuuya's sake- he does in this moment. ]
I come bearing gifts. Unless a certain angry bumblebee isn't interested.
[ The tray might settle atop their chosen table, but Dazai's hand isn't ready to still until it once again strokes against the side of a teeny-tiny face he never wants to stop holding, nor see wracked with fear or dread. ]
no subject
[ The addendum is there for provocation only. Then again, when is it ever anything but? Dazai can't often resist trying to stoke the flames of embarrassment any way he can, when Chuuya wears a blush like the finest adornment. The red flush darting up fair skin compliments him, head to toe, coaxing Dazai to loiter at least long enough to take a mental snapshot of how cute Chuuya looks- tiny, flustered and completely at his mercy.
He has to leave before the compulsion to press kisses to his partner's small frame overrides good sense and reason. ]
It's a date, then. Once you're at a size where I can actually feel it.
[ There are few enough patrons littered about to really pay Dazai any mind, even after his unabashedly salacious offer airs itself in public. The downside of this fact is that Chuuya will essentially be left to his lonesome until Dazai returns. While Dazai would next to never describe his partner as vulnerable, no matter his size, the fauna here are probably worse than a rogue crow that would try to make a meal out of such an adorable morsel. Dazai hadn't had the time to study up on all of the dangers here, and executing a plan without knowing all the ins and outs never sits well with him.
So once he makes his way over to where one of the locals is preparing beverages and edibles for the recent deluge of insatiable tourists, he'll lay down some silver. It's a bribe of course, tailed quickly by a threat to ensure the local is properly motivated, so that nothing untoward will happen to the munchkin curled up in his clothes.
Once a promise is given to watch over both Dazai's coat and the precious cargo upon it, he'll leave for the healer's hut once more. This time, line or no, Dazai is able to procure an antidote. Certainly in part due to several tricks up his sleeve.
He returns quickly enough, picking up his prior order on his way back to the table. On the tray he brings over is Khalo's take on whiskey, a glass of ice water water, the antidote and two dishes of food that come highly recommended by fellow visitors. He wagers that if Chuuya is thirsty, then hunger is sure to follow. So why not tackle two birds with one stone?
Except that the sight of Chuuya curled up into himself, knees pressed to his chest like a child shielding itself from impending harm, completely derails all of those thoughts. He doesn't just look small and vulnerable- right now Chuuya is and he knows it. Seeing him like this wracks Dazai's heart with an ache that refuses to ebb away. At least not until he comes up behind that figure to softly brush the shape of knuckles oh so gently against the slope of a tiny back.
If Dazai hadn't known that he'd sacrifice everything, even his own life and every chance at happiness, all for Chuuya's sake- he does in this moment. ]
I come bearing gifts. Unless a certain angry bumblebee isn't interested.
[ The tray might settle atop their chosen table, but Dazai's hand isn't ready to still until it once again strokes against the side of a teeny-tiny face he never wants to stop holding, nor see wracked with fear or dread. ]