What you're name ?

Chapter 3 My problem, not yours

Made by @cataclysmiceve1 on Twitter!
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That Sunday, Dazai arrives just after lunch. It's a little smoother this time—he doesn't go into cardiac arrest on the doorstep, he even makes it all the way to Chuuya's room without pausing to admire his eyes. And then, Dazai launches his campaign.

It starts out simple.

Dazai isn't unfamiliar with the art of wooing—though usually, he'll admit, it's easier than this, most girls want him on sight—and it always begins with the first step.

Hair.

When he's correcting Chuuya's answers, he runs his fingers through it, leaving it pushed back and askew. Typically, the ruffled look is all it takes—but, oddly enough, Chuuya is looking at him even less than before. 

Dazai frowns.

"Did I use the wrong theorem here?"

Time to move on to plan B. "It's a little warm in here, don't you think?"

Chuuya doesn't look up, "I didn't notice."

"Well," Dazai sighs, tugging at his sweater, "the chibi doesn't have any body fat to keep him warm, he probably gets cold easily."

That makes Chuuya's eyes snap up from his notebook,  his eyes narrowing. "...Hah?"

Dazai smiles innocently, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. He rolls his sleeves up to the elbow, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he moves his backpack from one side of the table to the other (super necessary, he isn't performing some sort of bizarre mating dance in the middle of studying, excuse you) "I said you were super fit!"

"No," Chuuya's eyes do seem to linger on Dazai's arms, but he doesn't look flushed or distracted (which is where Dazai normally is, at this point in a seduction), just confused, "I was talking about the chibi part."

"Well," Dazai grins crookedly, biting back a laugh. "How tall are you, to be exact?" Chuuya glares .

"160. Does that matter?"

"No, no—" (really, Dazai is thrilled with the height difference, and has an entire LIST of ways he wants to utilize it once they're—) "But I'm 21 centimeters taller, so..." he shrugs. "Perspective."

Chuuya gives him a pointed glare, and for a moment Dazai wonders if he pushed it too far—but then he just rolls his eyes and looks back down. "I was expecting you to have a little less weight on you, to be honest."

"Me?" Dazai claps a hand over his mouth with mock offense.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"You know I'm not, I just—" Chuuya gestures vaguely to Dazai's arms, not looking up. "You know." Dazai's surprise fades into a smirk, and he leans a little closer as he looks over Chuuya's work.

"Oh," he rests his hand on the table, close to Chuuya's. "Up until this year, I was third baseman on my school's baseball team."

Chuuya honestly does look surprised. "I never thought you played sports."

"Because I'm the 'bookish' type?" Now Chuuya looks sheepish. "How presumptuous."