yorimei replied to your post “*trots in* hey it's yori from ao3, since I saw that you want people to...”
Asked a question and got a Drabble instead? Lord I couldn't stop grinning, I had to look down on my walk to class so that I didn't look like a crazy person!!! Thank you for answering my questions!!! But how dare you tease me with the hint of "I might include iwazumi's thoughts in a different story", lady it's time for you to square up imma fight you ����. Also your iwazumi is probably one my all time favorites, I adore the way you write him!
I don’t know; I could fight you, I suppose. Or I could do this:
A drop of sweat rolls down Tooru's neck, a testament to how humid the weather has been lately. Hajime watches it as it travels downwards, a stripe silvered by the street lights that peek through the blinds as it rolls towards the groove of Tooru's collarbone, slow, taunting.
Hajime watches it because that's all he can do - watch.
His breathing is too loud in the small space they inhabit. His fingers twitch and all he wants to do is touch, goddamnit. His palms curl and uncurl, sweaty and fidgety.
"Looks like someone's already all excited, mmm?"
The scarves are snug around his wrist as it jerks forward futilely, muscles jumping in his arm against the restraints. Smacking Tooru is instinctive; Hajime does it all the time - to scold, to draw his attention, to deflect from Hajime's own embarrassment.
But now, bound as he was, there's nothing Hajime can do but squirm, heat beading all over his skin as he watches Tooru watch him, hazel eyes glittering. He's flushed all over - as tanned as Hajime is, his body is often too honest. It tells Tooru what Hajime won't say at times - now, it betrays Hajime's arousal as loudly as if Hajime had been begging with every exhale that curls, warm into the space between them.
Hajime holds Tooru's gaze as long as he could, given his naked state in comparison to Tooru's still-dressed appearance. The minute he drops his eyes though, Tooru is abruptly in his space, hands gentle but insistent on his face as they turn Hajime's focus back onto him.
They've only just started and already Hajime is running out of breath. It's too much. It's not enough.
"Shittykawa,” he rasps, desperate. “fucking get on with it."
Tooru clicks his tongue, then leans in to nip at Hajime's neck. "Now, now, Iwa-chan, good things come to people who are patient." A slow undulation of hips against Hajime's, and Tooru greedily devours the groans that leak from the corners of Hajime's mouth.
"And I'm at my most patient today, don't you agree?"