Chuuya smiles. The curve of it is subtle, but the bright mix of relief and pride in it is clear as sunlight. It fills Dazai with the horrible sense that this is what perfection is. It makes the brunet think, for a moment, that he understands people who claim they’d do anything for the person they love. He thinks, for a moment, that he gets what people mean when they speak of unconditional and selfless love.
He almost reaches out to touch it. Nearly attempts to trace his fingertips over the shape Chuuya’s lips form. Thinks he could collect some of what Chuuya’s feeling for himself. Refrains only because Chuuya looks away from him. Turns that expression to everyone else and Dazai remembers where he is.
The air is bright with victory. Their respective subordinates collectively basking in it despite the corpses littered around them and the blood drenching their suit jackets.
This mission had been particularly arduous and though everyone reeked of exhaustion and death none of them noticed over the blanket sense of relief and success.
Dazai didn’t feel any particular way, focusing solely on his partner as the man walked away from him. Likely, to get an idea for the casualty count. Already falling back into business mode and leveling everyone else’s moods with it.
Dazai paid the shift no mind, leaving the clean up and what not to Chuuya. Brain whirring with the odd thoughts which had crossed over his heart and nearly made him move to fulfill such a random want. Not quite for what was actually desired though. He’s contemplated what touching Chuuya might be like before. A certain curiosity catalyzed by teenage hormones and nothing else. He was sure.
He knows the thoughts are normal, understands anyone else in his position would feel similarly. Hell, even some of the adults were weak to the natural beauty Chuuya possessed. Could see as much in pairs of eyes which traveled Chuuya’s body with interest.
Unrefined and imperfect though Chuuya’s particular brand of pretty was with his youth and inability to recognize it himself; the effect he had on others was stupidly strong.
Dazai also knew, the moment Chuuya realized it, he and anyone else who was already too susceptible to the man’s charm, would be screwed.
No, the desire wasn’t random at all, rather it was the thought that preceded it which was random.
The suggestion of love that his own mind had somehow conjured was absurd. The suggestion that Chuuya’s smile of all things, even briefly, brought the emotion into clarity for him was ludicrous. Bordered on insanity.
Dazai looks over to meet crystal clear blue eyes, the owner of which the grating call of his name had come from. Having caught his attention the irritating young man continues in a bark, “What the hell are you doing?”
Dazai cocks an eyebrow, his expression meant to telegraph how stupid the question is to him and judging by the twitch of Chuuya’s eye — he’s succeeded, “Is it not obvious slug? Is that ugly hat obstructing your vision so badly you can’t see I’m in the middle of breathing?”
The redhead growls, turning bodily away from the suited man he’d been conversing with prior to noticing Dazai, “I want to know why you’re just standing there!”
Dazai pouts, “Are you suggesting I should be doing more when I feel busy enough just existing?”
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