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dazai doesn’t know how much longer his heart can take this. it was cute enough watching you stumble around the agency’s office from afar, sipping drinks and giggling with your co-workers, but seeing you so close, looking up at him with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks is unbearable.
he glowed when you turned your attention to him. you haven’t let go of his sleeve now that you’ve gotten your hands on it but he can’t complain, not when he’s enjoying this so much. the way you’re practically crawling on him as you grip his jacket, the way you slur his name into the cutest ‘ samu he’s ever heard, the way it’s so much easier to make you show that smile he loves so much.
when he tells you it’s time to go home, your eyes water, pretty lips turned down in a pout that he wants to kiss away. “but i don’t want to leave you yet, ‘samu…”
if you weren’t holding onto him, he’d surely have to grip his chest as if cupid himself shot him with an arrow. instead, he pokes your forehead, smiling at how you scrunch your nose. “a few drinks and you forget we live together? you’re breaking my heart, y/n.”
“we do?” you grin, leaning up on your tip-toes to rest your chin on his chest. “so i get to be with you all night?”
he hasn’t drank anything tonight, but somehow, he thinks his cheeks are pinker than yours.
by the time he unlocks the door to his dorm, he’s practically carrying you, bundled up in his trench coat as you cling to his side. it’s a struggle to get you to let go of him and cooperate enough to let him take off your makeup, but he knows if he doesn’t clean you up now, every trace of his sweet girlfriend’s affection will be gone tomorrow morning. you settle quietly against his lap as he opens your pack of wipes.
he tucks your hair behind your ears and away from your face, letting your soft hands mimic the action to him. he looks up only to be met with your smile, hands pulling away from his cheeks before he can stop you. “you’re handsome.”
“i am?” he bats his eyelashes at you, not bothering to hide his grin when you nod.
he gently holds your jaw, wiping away your makeup and listening to your little mumbles as you play with the buttons on his shirt. you don’t seem to notice when he’s finished, content to sit on the bathroom floor as long as you’re with him. it makes something bloom within the empty cavity in his chest, tickling his ribs as his heart flutters.
“oh, i missed a spot!” he turns your head to the side, scattering kisses against your cheek until your giggles and nudges pull him away.
“that tickled.” you whine, shifting to nuzzle your head against his shoulder, your eyelashes grazing his jaw.
he can feel your grip on his shirt relax, but he can’t let you fall asleep just yet. he knows you’re getting tired when you don’t protest as he stands up without you. he leaves with a kiss to your temple and a murmured, “i’ll be right back.”
in the couple of minutes he’s gone to the kitchen, you pull off your dress and his coat. the moonlight cuts through his window and onto the soft skin of your torso, visible now that you’re in your underwear. he admires the way your hair is messily splayed across your face as you stare blankly at the puddle of clothes on the floor, cheeks still pink and eyes still sleepy.
“an angel in my own room! ahh, how lovely.” he smiles, handing you a glass of water, brushing away the hair that’s stuck to your lips so you can drink. he stiffens when you grab his hand, hard.
“you’re so cold, ‘samu…” you mumble, nearly dropping the glass as you press your flushed face into his hand. “i love it.”
he lets you hold his hand against your forehead as you slowly drink your water, gradually falling asleep right in his palm, whining when he pulls away.
“almost, love,” he says, moving to grab some pajamas for you. “just one more minute and then you can go to sleep.”
he sees the way you’re eyeing his closet from your spot on his futon and grabs one of his white button downs. you beam when he pulls it over your head, smiling to yourself as you watch the oversized sleeves pool off your hands and hang in front of you.
he presses his lips to your forehead, pulling the quilt up to your chest. he can’t help the full body shudder that goes through him when you rub your thumb against the pulse point on his wrist, goosebumps rising beneath his second cotton skin.
“i want a real kiss. please?”
“hmm…” he holds his chin in thought, laughing at how you tug him closer by his collar when he takes too long to respond. “i guess i can’t deny my love if she’s asking.” he feels you smile against his lips as he gives you a kiss, an exaggerated mwah as he pulls away.
“can i have one more?”
he strokes your cheek with his thumb, kissing the tip of your nose before finally moving to turn off the light. “i’ll give you as many as you’d like tomorrow.”
you waste no time snuggling up to him when he joins you in his futon, holding his arm to your chest like a stuffed toy. he almost thinks he could fall asleep like this, when your quiet voice breaks the silence.
“sometimes i get scared,” you pause. “...that you won’t be here when i wake up.” your voice is heavy with sleep; he wonders if there’s any truth to your words, or if it’s a symptom of the alcohol you drank.
“you should go to sleep.”
“no…” you whine, eyes already closed, pulling his arm impossibly closer to you. “‘m not even that tired, ‘samu.”
his small dorm room grows quiet, and then you’re speaking again, voice so soft that it’s barely audible. “i hope you sleep well.”
he feels his grin come back, smaller than before. “i will knowing i’ve got a cutie like you looking out for me, hm?”
you lift yourself up, brushing his hair back as he watches you with cautious eyes. you press your lips to his forehead, placing his bangs back down with a little pat. “now you’ll have good dreams.” you smile, snuggling your head underneath his chin, hand settled over his beating heart
“thank you, love.” it’s barely a whisper, but he’s afraid of how this voice will come out if he’s any louder. he cups the back of your head, letting your hair slide through his fingers until he feels your breathing even out.
you couldn’t be in better hands; he’s well acquainted with drunken nights and hungover mornings. he smiles as he brushes his fingers against your forehead, grateful you won’t have to be alone tomorrow morning, the way he’s so used to being after nights like these. he presses his lips against the crown of your head.
“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispers, words feeling like a foreign language coming out of his mouth. it’s easier knowing you’re asleep, that you won’t see him so honest. “i promise.”
he can’t lie to himself; he knows his heart is yours, even if he can’t show it to you fully.