[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.
no subject
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.]