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[indensity]

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[indensity]

[He wouldn't have. Mori could try to arrange it however he wanted, but he wouldn't. Not unless Mori got Dazai to attack. And that's not something he could trick Chuuya into thinking was happening, because he did know his partner. He did. It wouldn't work.

He'd argue that point for days.

Except the argument has been cut short. He squirms a bit for a moment, but he can't find his balance to get back up, and Dazai is holding him.]

I'm not!

[Stop insulting him. He tries to elbow him for that, but misses.]

[theartofdying]

[Maybe they should keep talking--he should try to keep making his point--but at this point he's had too much to drink, and everything is fuzzy, and Chuuya is squirming around in his lap. Maybe it's for the best.

It's always been easier to not talk, after all.

(Coward. He won't think it. He won't think anything.)

Leaning more heavily on Chuuya, Dazai buries his face in Chuuya's hair, nudging his hat out of the way with his chin.]

You are. Falling on me like that--

[indensity]

[Dazai's face against his hair is raising goosebumps, and he only halfheartedly tries to make a grab for his hat as it falls. It's right there, anyway, he can pick it back up.

He tries to elbow Dazai again.]

It's your fault.

[Ugh, this is annoying. He still hasn't made his point, and Dazai is getting his way again.]

[theartofdying]

It's not. You were wobbling--

[You were leaving, he doesn't say, because that doesn't matter and Chuuya should have, he should have let him.

Instead, he's leaning harder into Chuuya, despite the elbow that buries itself in his ribs with a soft oof, burying his nose in that soft hair and breathing deeply.]

Heavy and pointy. Stop that, how are your elbows that sharp--

[indensity]

But I wasn't falling!

[Because he had gravity, up until the moment Dazai touched him and he didn't. And now he's stuck, Dazai's breath against his neck, too drunk to really be able to fight.]

You're just weak.

[The tingling feeling of moonlacing is spreading from every point where Dazai is touching him. It's making him feel better, even though he's still not sure he wants to. But it's difficult to resist.]

[theartofdying]

[Moonlacing is without a doubt the best part of being here. What's the harm in just staying for a little while, avoiding the inevitable slide back into arguing, into fighting over things that actually matter when instead they can fight over nonsense, argue over nothing at all?

It's easier. He just wants easier for a little while. Before all of this is over for good.]

M'not. Strong enough to carry you, anyway.

[He could! If he wanted to. If he wasn't pretty much attached to the ground right now.]

[indensity]

And I could carry you and you're heavier.

[This is definitely a nonsense argument, and one they've had before. It's safe. It's easier. He's drunk enough now that he's starting to forget about why he was leaving.

That won't last, though.]

Let me-- At least let me shift a little.

[Going to squirm his way into a better position, since he's apparently stuck.]

[theartofdying]

Not right now you couldn't.

[Dazai grumbles, but it's true that this isn't the most comfortable position, so he supposes he can let Chuuya shift. He'll shift, too, though he maybe overemphasizes how much heavier he is as he pulls Chuuya properly into his arms.

He's too drunk for this. That's his excuse. He's too drunk, and Chuuya's too drunk, and the rest of that conversation--they should have it sober. If they have to have it at all.]

Better?

[indensity]

[Chuuya ends up slightly sideways, head on Dazai's shoulder, leaning into him. He definitely shouldn't allow this, but the warmth of moonlacing is too addictive. That's his excuse.

He exhales softly.]

Better.

[And anyway, Dazai made a statement with this. It's probably not even intentional, that's the sad part, but it's what Chuuya has wanted from him for years now. Dazai is telling him to stay.]

[theartofdying]

[It is better. His arms around Chuuya's waist, Dazai leans in, wrapping himself fully around the smaller man and resting his cheek against Chuuya's head. It's comfortable. More than it should be. Familiar in ways he doesn't want to think about.

Luckily, thanks to the warmth of alcohol and moonlacing, he doesn't have to. He can just bury his face in that scent and relax into it, a soft murmur of agreement escaping him as his eyes close.

Just for a minute. Really.]