(there's not much he can do when chuuya's keeping his eyes fluttering close, his lungs screaming for air, being allowed so on the rate chuuya decides it can draw. it's not bad, it's just... vulnerable. this has never been a look dazai wears, much less in front of chuuya, like both of them are allergic to being this open - but they are being so. both terrifying and endearing, infatuating desire mixed with love, and just how much he wishes his brain was working proper, so he could do more than pull chuuya down on him whenever he moves up, thrust when chuuya gives him an opening.
dazai has no choice but to let chuuya lead. each time air fills his lungs, they come out with a pleasurable moan. it's almost like he is seeing heaven like this.
[And Chuuya might have underestimated how much all of this would affect Dazai, because with the empathetic bond open wide between them, he's drowning in everything he's making the other man feel. He shudders visibly as the feelings of infatuation and love wash over him, and if he wasn't flushed from their activities and his earlier temper before, he certainly is now.
His nails dig into Dazai's chest, right over his heart, hard enough to break skin.] Fuck. Why is it... It's always you, isn't it?
[He hates him. He loves him. Dazai is an anchor point in Chuuya's world, a lodestone. That he needs him this much is enraging, but that he's still here is.... solace itself.
He grinds down on Dazai harder, dragging his nails down his chest with the force of his motions, squeezing his throat tight with each rise and fall. He isn't going to last, not like this, but he has no intention of letting Dazai off easy for being so damn--
(it is. part of him wonders why it is, after all - is it a flaw of dazai to use others, or is it a flaw of chuuya to simply not walk away? hardly matters. dazai can't argue. it's too much happening at the same time, the pleasure, the way his brain fights through it to breathe, and just how masochistically, he enjoys it. all he makes chuuya feel in return, a hand reluctantly leaving the hips it purples to bring chuuya's hair into a pull, all his strength, as he rides the waves of orgasm.
not that he is stopping, it's dry, contained. surprise, chuuya, things he can do with his own control.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
dazai has no choice but to let chuuya lead. each time air fills his lungs, they come out with a pleasurable moan. it's almost like he is seeing heaven like this.
it's unfair.)
no subject
His nails dig into Dazai's chest, right over his heart, hard enough to break skin.] Fuck. Why is it... It's always you, isn't it?
[He hates him. He loves him. Dazai is an anchor point in Chuuya's world, a lodestone. That he needs him this much is enraging, but that he's still here is.... solace itself.
He grinds down on Dazai harder, dragging his nails down his chest with the force of his motions, squeezing his throat tight with each rise and fall. He isn't going to last, not like this, but he has no intention of letting Dazai off easy for being so damn--
For being him.]
no subject
not that he is stopping, it's dry, contained. surprise, chuuya, things he can do with his own control.)