No strings attached

Pt.9- Contrast

Once they were done, Kirishima carried the worker back to the bed and took in the absent look on his face. He was there physically, but emotionally and mentally, he seemed anything but close. He had this far off look in his eyes as he stared up, his chest heaving up and down slightly.

The curly haired man opened his mouth to say something, but the other male beat him to it.

Icy orbs fell on him. "I-I thought I told you to stop staring at me like that?" He sat up and winced slightly. His entire lower half was sore and felt like jelly. He didn't trust himself to walk yet.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"You've been staring at me for the longest." Yokozawa pointed out. A look of annoyance and disgust on his face as he called the elder out. "Stop. It's starting to bother me."

"All I'm doing is looking at you."

"Well don't. You're looking at me as if you're trying to find something of quality, but it's like I said, I know I'm ugly. You don't have to rub it in by making me look at the mirror."

Kirishima was genuinely taken aback. "I- you're not ugly-

"I should shower for dinner." The worker sighed, sliding off the bed but stopped once he was on the edge. "Unless," he leaned back, splaying his legs to allow the man access. "You want to use me again?"

A soft sigh left the curly haired mans lips as he shook his head and brought a hand to Yokozawa's thigh, running small circles around it. "No. Go get ready."

Without another word or glance backwards, the younger got up and walked to the restroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

Kirishima stared at the door, a furrow between his brows. What the fuck had just happened? Was the other man mad because he hadn't slid a condom on? On their first encounter, the worker had insisted that he put one on. So was that the problem?

If it was, it's not like he could apologize for that. That would most likely piss the man off even more.

He wanted to avoid that, so with a shake of his head he plopped down on the bed and waited patiently for Yokozawa to return. He didn't expect the man to take that long in the restroom but was beginning to worry a bit when the minutes stretched on and an hour passed.

Eventually Yokozawa appeared, a screen of steam enveloping him as he exited the restroom, a white towel wrapped firmly around his waist. Water trickled down his body and pooled at his feet as he walked across the room and dug through his bag.

He pulled out the blue suit that Kirishima's had instructed him to get and laid it out flat on the bed.

"You're going to look nice."

"Thank you."

His voice wasn't curt and unappeased anymore. It was light and conversational, almost as if whatever had made him upset had slipped his mind or was simply tossed aside.

Instead of commenting, Kirishima just watched as the man got dressed, chuckling when Yokozawa almost fell while putting his pants on.

"You might want to dry your hair a bit more before it drips onto your shirt and jacket."

Yokozawa just nodded his head and retrieved another towel, sitting down on the floor and running the towel roughly through his hair. Gulping nervously when he felt a hand graze against his and take the towel. "W-what are you doing?"

"Let me help you." Kirishima was behind him on his knees with the towel in his hands. He began running it through the mans hair gently, noticing how his back went rigid and his entire body curled inwards into itself.