He presses lazy, open mouthed kisses against Chuuya’s thigh, and Chuuya is still a little mindless. “...Good?”

Dazai laughs weakly, “Chuuya, I—“ his voice is slightly muffled by Chuuya’s skin, “I don’t think someone has ever made me /this/ crazy in my /entire/ life.”

Normally, if an eighteen year old said that, Chuuya would snort and say, ‘Okay, sure.’

But given Dazai‘s long and /distinguished/ career—

Well, it’s actually pretty /flattering./

“Well—“ Chuuya whimpers a little at the emptiness when Dazai’s fingers slide out. “Get up here.”

Dazai /does/, pressing slow, leisurely kisses up Chuuya’s stomach, his chest, and then his lips. It’s slow, lazy—and then Chuuya realizes—

Dazai is /completely/ dressed.

And Chuuya is /very/ naked.

“...” Dazai pauses when he feels Chuuya frown against his mouth. “...What?”

Chuuya presses his hands to Dazai’s chest, making him lean back— “You /really/ think we’re done?”

Dazai blinks, “Well, I don’t expect you to be bouncing back anytime soon—!” He cuts himself off with a /very/ undignified grunt when Chuuya grabs him through his jeans.

“/So?/“