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Summary
“If you weren’t you, we’d be on the ceiling right now,” Chuuya feels inclined to inform him. He reaches up a hand to trace Dazai’s jawline on the right side, the side that’s now free to feel the light.
“If I weren’t me, you would have leveled half a city block by now.”
“Killjoy.” He hooks his fingers into Dazai’s mouth, instantly pleased when the other man starts sucking on them, laving each knife and trigger callus with the tip of his tongue.
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Dazai bets Chuuya he can ride him into oblivion, but didn't account for the fact he's not really in shape for that. Luckily, Chuuya's competitive.