[ There's a satchel at his side, no more remarkable than a cloth bag meant to carry ordinary goods. But from within he draws out a beach towel, over-sized and large enough for the both of them, brought with the certainty that this may take longer than he's willing to stand.
There is the air of it being something of an olive branch he passes between them, tossing it gently towards his partner in an underhand motion that assures it'll land without too much force. ]
First thing's first- Catch.
[ He meant what he'd said earlier. From the lulling roll of waves blackened by night to the starry sky and moon above, the scenery here isn't too shabby a choice. It's a shame actually, because the atmosphere is downright ethereal; better suited for hushed conversations murmured between touching lips and held hands, not talk of death and betrayal.
Which is why his hands slide away, cautiously tucked into beige pockets of a coat that's half Dazai's shield and security blanket. One he's used so often for blocking out the world and hiding from reach the few places where skin is left bare and exposed to a world that he doesn't often want to be seen by.
Upon approach he looks as he always does; posture a mix of guarded and casually aloof with an unreadable expression. And it stays like that, those few feet where he forgets his shoes and his bag in order to step into Chuuya's personal space.
But however much taller he is, and no matter the way Dazai's broader form comes close enough to loom shadows over Chuuya's, there's no aura of a threat behind the closeness. If anything, how tense he seems from the lock of his shoulders and his schooled expression is countered by the way bare feet bump into Chuuya's in a way that's undeniably affectionate.
Standing literally toe-to-toe feels like a step in the right direction, but Chuuya has never seen his more subtle cues for what they are. So with a breath meant to center himself, and an exhale as pained as the crease in brows that knot tightly together, Dazai shakes off his apprehension and slides his hands free. ]
Tell me something, Chuuya.. [ His partner may only say it after Corruption, but he knows it runs deeper than that. ] Do you trust me?
[ Reaching out between them, it looks certain that Dazai is going to touch Chuuya's face. The angle is right, his palm comes in close, but in the last second he deviates to carefully take hold upon the brim of Chuuya's hat. He's well aware of how special it is to the man at his side, so the gesture isn't a taunt nor some provocation. Which is why when he draws it away from the hair it keeps pinned down and captive, letting the light breeze pluck up strands to leave them dancing around Chuuya's face, it's done with the same tenderness of a caress. ]
no subject
There is the air of it being something of an olive branch he passes between them, tossing it gently towards his partner in an underhand motion that assures it'll land without too much force. ]
First thing's first- Catch.
[ He meant what he'd said earlier. From the lulling roll of waves blackened by night to the starry sky and moon above, the scenery here isn't too shabby a choice. It's a shame actually, because the atmosphere is downright ethereal; better suited for hushed conversations murmured between touching lips and held hands, not talk of death and betrayal.
Which is why his hands slide away, cautiously tucked into beige pockets of a coat that's half Dazai's shield and security blanket. One he's used so often for blocking out the world and hiding from reach the few places where skin is left bare and exposed to a world that he doesn't often want to be seen by.
Upon approach he looks as he always does; posture a mix of guarded and casually aloof with an unreadable expression. And it stays like that, those few feet where he forgets his shoes and his bag in order to step into Chuuya's personal space.
But however much taller he is, and no matter the way Dazai's broader form comes close enough to loom shadows over Chuuya's, there's no aura of a threat behind the closeness. If anything, how tense he seems from the lock of his shoulders and his schooled expression is countered by the way bare feet bump into Chuuya's in a way that's undeniably affectionate.
Standing literally toe-to-toe feels like a step in the right direction, but Chuuya has never seen his more subtle cues for what they are. So with a breath meant to center himself, and an exhale as pained as the crease in brows that knot tightly together, Dazai shakes off his apprehension and slides his hands free. ]
Tell me something, Chuuya.. [ His partner may only say it after Corruption, but he knows it runs deeper than that. ] Do you trust me?
[ Reaching out between them, it looks certain that Dazai is going to touch Chuuya's face. The angle is right, his palm comes in close, but in the last second he deviates to carefully take hold upon the brim of Chuuya's hat. He's well aware of how special it is to the man at his side, so the gesture isn't a taunt nor some provocation. Which is why when he draws it away from the hair it keeps pinned down and captive, letting the light breeze pluck up strands to leave them dancing around Chuuya's face, it's done with the same tenderness of a caress. ]