[ a shudder runs down, impossible to hide with the proximity of their bodies; yes, fyodor is smart but there is no way he can pretend experience in this arena. intimacy is odd; not unwelcome, but half of him is wondering if dazai minds that fyodor has now put both hands on chuuya--pressing through his shirt against the line of his spine. wanting.
fyodor may be quiet but he is reactive, eagerly opening his mouth to slip their tongues together. vodka is how chuuya tastes, and the aftermath is something else. warm but not scorching. it's soft, teasing and eager. not things he's familiar with.
dazai had been careful with him.
he draws his hands back to cup chuuya's face in them and deepen the kiss. ]
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fyodor may be quiet but he is reactive, eagerly opening his mouth to slip their tongues together. vodka is how chuuya tastes, and the aftermath is something else. warm but not scorching. it's soft, teasing and eager. not things he's familiar with.
dazai had been careful with him.
he draws his hands back to cup chuuya's face in them and deepen the kiss. ]