(that's exactly what makes it so special. insane as it is, he almost feels regret that his bandages separate them, not being able to feel skin everywhere he touches, and it's a shame he's not nearly as ready to let them go, as much as it feels enticing. instead, however, it means his hands and hips get to touch, to feel in lieu of the rest of his body, which is why they can't stay still, they roam, they squeeze, they scratch, from thigh to waist, and when it's back to the hipbone he left his mark, it's a grip so hard his fingertips will purple it too.
the noises, the voice, the name he had called, the way his arms wrap tight like he too doesn't want to let it go makes dazai smile against the pair of lips. he distances, only for a second, to look. his fingers move some of the strands on chuuya's face, and he can't control his face with how much he's beaming. if he thought chuuya looked beautiful before, he's a masterpiece now, panting, dazzled, and having his name now moaned from those lips.
fuck drugs. he will hate that they're having him say it.)
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the noises, the voice, the name he had called, the way his arms wrap tight like he too doesn't want to let it go makes dazai smile against the pair of lips. he distances, only for a second, to look. his fingers move some of the strands on chuuya's face, and he can't control his face with how much he's beaming. if he thought chuuya looked beautiful before, he's a masterpiece now, panting, dazzled, and having his name now moaned from those lips.
fuck drugs. he will hate that they're having him say it.)
I think you're going to ruin me, too.