[Oh, those were delightful. As much as Bedivere enjoyed the original stories, he found the way they were retold and analyzed to be absolutely fascinating. Humans truly were bastions of creativity, weren't they? And it seemed like Bedivere had found a new hobby, though his time spent on it would be limited until the Grail War was over.
After all, he had other hobbies he wanted to indulge in while he still had the chance. And with every bit of experience Bedivere gained, his actions in bed grew bolder. It seemed that the reserved man had a taste for being in control, though it would still be a bit of a struggle until he found a solution for 'only one arm works when touching Dazai.' Grinding against Dazai to completion was possible, and it would free up his hand so he could pin Dazai down or just hold himself up over Dazai, but it wasn't quite as satisfactory as the squeeze of a hand.
He still had a strong desire to kiss Dazai, and he still channeled that desire into other touches.
His dreams that night weren't quite as depressing as they had been the previous night. Dreams of allies made in the twilight of his quest, of a friendly archer and of several mountain people in masks. Of a pink-haired girl and a young master, there to set right what had gone wrong. That young master...Bedivere didn't know them for long, but he would have been satisfied to be summoned by them, he thought. They had a good heart and a determination to do right.
That was one of Bedivere's few regrets with his plan. If he wished to stay here in Yokohama, he would never have the chance to see that master again.
Ah, well. They had said their goodbyes. Forgetting Dazai- and Yokohama in general- would be too painful to bear.
That morning, Bedivere didn't push Dazai to get out of bed. Even if they had to fight that day, he wanted to stay right there and pretend everything would be alright and that he wasn't anxious. Both of them could die that day, and this could be their last time together. Knowing that, Bedivere didn't want to rush the morning.]
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After all, he had other hobbies he wanted to indulge in while he still had the chance. And with every bit of experience Bedivere gained, his actions in bed grew bolder. It seemed that the reserved man had a taste for being in control, though it would still be a bit of a struggle until he found a solution for 'only one arm works when touching Dazai.' Grinding against Dazai to completion was possible, and it would free up his hand so he could pin Dazai down or just hold himself up over Dazai, but it wasn't quite as satisfactory as the squeeze of a hand.
He still had a strong desire to kiss Dazai, and he still channeled that desire into other touches.
His dreams that night weren't quite as depressing as they had been the previous night. Dreams of allies made in the twilight of his quest, of a friendly archer and of several mountain people in masks. Of a pink-haired girl and a young master, there to set right what had gone wrong. That young master...Bedivere didn't know them for long, but he would have been satisfied to be summoned by them, he thought. They had a good heart and a determination to do right.
That was one of Bedivere's few regrets with his plan. If he wished to stay here in Yokohama, he would never have the chance to see that master again.
Ah, well. They had said their goodbyes. Forgetting Dazai- and Yokohama in general- would be too painful to bear.
That morning, Bedivere didn't push Dazai to get out of bed. Even if they had to fight that day, he wanted to stay right there and pretend everything would be alright and that he wasn't anxious. Both of them could die that day, and this could be their last time together. Knowing that, Bedivere didn't want to rush the morning.]