(he sees those eyes, leaking in suspicion, and it makes him hide his face on the other's neck, kisses that trail down to chuuya's jaw where he presses the strongest one, a smile to be felt against skin.)
Oh, you don't trust me? Drugging you is soooooo six years ago or two months ago.
[Said in a still slightly sleepy deadpan, but he's very easily distracted by kisses at this hour of the morning. One hand creeps up to stroke through Dazai's hair, while a soft, contented sigh escapes Chuuya's lips.]
Can't a man want to spoil back every now and then? Is it awful of me?
(in the mornings, just the two of them, dazai tends to be much more loving, much more caring, like his energy is focused on solely the melancholic and lazy atmosphere. kisses, more kisses, even more kisses.)
[He seems... surprised, but that's Chuuya for you: He's always surprised when people do nice things for him. He's gotten better about it over the years, but it's still a thing he can't quite shake.
He enjoys these mornings, though. The touches, the lazy kisses. The easy affection. They're both a little softer around the edges with a night of sleep behind them, the warmth and presence of each other settling into their bones like a balm. And Chuuya was a man of tactile habit, someone who gravitated to idle touch and caresses when at his most relaxed, fingers carding through hair and stroking bare skin.]
(dazai himself couldn't blame him. when does he ever do these sorts of things for chuuya? it's almost like he's being awfully telling with his own heart when he does, so it's better to do it in little ways, sparse and scattered.
chuuya always looks so beautiful in the morning. the drowsy eyes, the little freckles dazai can see being so close, and his hands move to gently hold chuuya's face to press a kiss to the top of his nose, and then to his lips.)
[Dazai might be admiring Chuuya, but the same could be said about Chuuya for Dazai. It's so easy to want to keep the man in bed at times like these. Chuuya can be a terribly greedy person when it comes these soft, gentle moments with Dazai, attempting to drag them out as long as possible, pressing their foreheads together and leaning into every kiss.
Slowly but surely, he's learned to grasp for these scattered moments and cling ever the tighter.
The sigh that escapes him in between kisses is warm, fond.] Well I certainly ain't gonna complain about that.
You can even supervise if you truly feel like it. What is it you want to eat?
(two miracles. dazai putting effort, and dazai actually moving to eat. eating takes so much of his braincells, they're not made to sit down and have a meal, but lately, with chuuya's insistence and also his understanding, he's attempting more often. he knows that chuuya strategically places snacks for him when he's reading, lazing, painting--
he knows. so, there's a squeeze, an invitation for them to leave the blanket fort they're burrowed in.)
[Oh, Chuuya knows that Dazai knows. He also knows it's working, because the snacks he keeps carefully placing in Dazai's reach are disappearing semi-regularly. So clearly he's doing something right.
It's about the presentation with Dazai, he thinks. If it's something he doesn't have to put thought into, he's more likely to eat. So that Dazai is offering to cook for them, an act that requires at least some level of engagement, it's... honestly, kind of touching. He shifts a bit, pushing himself up so he's a bit more level with Dazai, pressing a simple, lingering kiss to his lips. An attempt is finally being made to get up, it seems.]
(he tries to simply let go, do the thing he's offered, but he finds it difficult with how they're being. dazai finds himself pouncing to press kisses wherever he can find, cheeks, neck, temple, lips, jaw, neck, collarbone, before he squeezes the other's waist as a 'ugh, why!!', and then finally, he does what he proposed. the kiss attack spurs him into awakening, after all.
he's been sleeping with less bandages, as is, to make it easier for him to go to bed. shirtless, with his arms bandaged, but everything else to be seen, he stretches them above his head before he starts separating ingredients.)
[And Dazai is making it incredibly difficult for Chuuya to let him go. Chuuya's hands card through his hair as he basks in the assault of kisses, and he certainly seems put out when Dazai finally pulls away, slumping against the bedspread once more with a huff.
Not that such a mood could possibly last long, when Dazai is a sight these days. Sure his arms are still bandaged, but Chuuya can now enjoy the sight of his bare torso in the morning light, and he tucks his chin into the palm of one hand to admire the view for a long moment. A smile returns to his lips, soft and so painfully fond, the warmth of adoration in his eyes.
(it's a little show of comfort. there are so many things that chuuya can see there, some made by himself, most witnessed, some thanks to chuuya himself. bullet wounds, stabbing scars, but he's moving at much more ease than he would ever do. dexterity of his fingers is shown once he opens the eggs, singlehandedly, onto the bowl, only turning to look at chuuya to ask what he wants in his omurice--
and he catches sight of those eyes. the slightest tint of red flows through his cheeks, mouth opening to say something but no words come out. only a laugh, shy for once, as he comes back to his cooking.)
It always fills Chuuya with a giddy, pleased feeling when he can see Dazai taken off guard, unguarded. Genuine in the most enjoyable way, rare but more coveted than the most precious of gems. Chuuya savors the sight of those red cheeks, the struggle for words, the laugh that settles in his ears so sweetly, and can't quite muffle his own laugh, bright and happy.
He tugs one of the pillows beneath his head to prop himself up, intend to linger and watch for awhile, breathing in their mingled scents from the pillow and basking in the moment.
(he needs to turn around for a second, he's embarrassed - it's such a rare sight to gift chuuya that he can't even look directly. shy, naked (to his standards), intimacy rushing red across his cheeks. the look chuuya gave him helped nothing to calm his fast-beating heart. at least this is a quick dish, and five minutes later, he returns to the bed to press a lingering kiss to chuuya's cheek.
an attempt to make him as flustered as dazai is as he sets the tray with their breakfast in front of them.)
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Oh, you don't trust me? Drugging you is soooooo six years ago or two months ago.
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[Said in a still slightly sleepy deadpan, but he's very easily distracted by kisses at this hour of the morning. One hand creeps up to stroke through Dazai's hair, while a soft, contented sigh escapes Chuuya's lips.]
I'm just wondering what kinda mood led to this.
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(in the mornings, just the two of them, dazai tends to be much more loving, much more caring, like his energy is focused on solely the melancholic and lazy atmosphere. kisses, more kisses, even more kisses.)
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[He seems... surprised, but that's Chuuya for you: He's always surprised when people do nice things for him. He's gotten better about it over the years, but it's still a thing he can't quite shake.
He enjoys these mornings, though. The touches, the lazy kisses. The easy affection. They're both a little softer around the edges with a night of sleep behind them, the warmth and presence of each other settling into their bones like a balm. And Chuuya was a man of tactile habit, someone who gravitated to idle touch and caresses when at his most relaxed, fingers carding through hair and stroking bare skin.]
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chuuya always looks so beautiful in the morning. the drowsy eyes, the little freckles dazai can see being so close, and his hands move to gently hold chuuya's face to press a kiss to the top of his nose, and then to his lips.)
Promise.
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Slowly but surely, he's learned to grasp for these scattered moments and cling ever the tighter.
The sigh that escapes him in between kisses is warm, fond.] Well I certainly ain't gonna complain about that.
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(two miracles. dazai putting effort, and dazai actually moving to eat. eating takes so much of his braincells, they're not made to sit down and have a meal, but lately, with chuuya's insistence and also his understanding, he's attempting more often. he knows that chuuya strategically places snacks for him when he's reading, lazing, painting--
he knows. so, there's a squeeze, an invitation for them to leave the blanket fort they're burrowed in.)
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It's about the presentation with Dazai, he thinks. If it's something he doesn't have to put thought into, he's more likely to eat. So that Dazai is offering to cook for them, an act that requires at least some level of engagement, it's... honestly, kind of touching. He shifts a bit, pushing himself up so he's a bit more level with Dazai, pressing a simple, lingering kiss to his lips. An attempt is finally being made to get up, it seems.]
Hmm... Omelettes?
[Yeah, that sounded good.]
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he's been sleeping with less bandages, as is, to make it easier for him to go to bed. shirtless, with his arms bandaged, but everything else to be seen, he stretches them above his head before he starts separating ingredients.)
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Not that such a mood could possibly last long, when Dazai is a sight these days. Sure his arms are still bandaged, but Chuuya can now enjoy the sight of his bare torso in the morning light, and he tucks his chin into the palm of one hand to admire the view for a long moment. A smile returns to his lips, soft and so painfully fond, the warmth of adoration in his eyes.
Fuck, but he was beautiful.]
cw self harm mention
and he catches sight of those eyes. the slightest tint of red flows through his cheeks, mouth opening to say something but no words come out. only a laugh, shy for once, as he comes back to his cooking.)
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It always fills Chuuya with a giddy, pleased feeling when he can see Dazai taken off guard, unguarded. Genuine in the most enjoyable way, rare but more coveted than the most precious of gems. Chuuya savors the sight of those red cheeks, the struggle for words, the laugh that settles in his ears so sweetly, and can't quite muffle his own laugh, bright and happy.
He tugs one of the pillows beneath his head to prop himself up, intend to linger and watch for awhile, breathing in their mingled scents from the pillow and basking in the moment.
It's looking to be a great day.]
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an attempt to make him as flustered as dazai is as he sets the tray with their breakfast in front of them.)