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Summary
Sometimes it’s hard to keep his hands to himself, to not tuck Dazai’s hair behind his ear and caress his cheek. He’s certain Dazai doesn’t feel the same, or else he wouldn’t be so damn handsy. Which is perhaps painful in its own way, to know that the feelings simmering inside him begging to boil over aren’t and will most likely never be reciprocated, but he chooses not to focus on that. Instead, he reminds himself that Dazai left without a word, Dazai blew up his car, Dazai tricked him into joining the mafia.
or: in which chuuya is the only person who thinks he fell first and harder