Conquering the Great King

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 2

Iwaizumi didn't see him again for a week. He fell into his regular booth, bad red patent leather squeaking beneath him as stagnate smoke swirled into frustrated motion when he moved.

The soft yellow and orange lighting and dark wood of the bar helped Iwaizumi relax immediately. He vaguely wondered if he was going to stumble into alcoholism, but batted the thought away with a flick of his wrist and an inhale of his cigarette.

Iwaizumi was on his second whiskey before the Pompous King walked through the door. Iwaizumi tried not to glare over his glass as he watched him, his overly cheerful voice disrupting the calm atmosphere that Iwaizumi loved so much.

Today was black pleated pants, shining black shoes, long sleeved button down in some lilac-ish color, top two buttons undone. A slim black belt cinched his shirt into the waist of his pants, forcing Iwaizumi to notice the slim strength of his hips.

Iwaizumi almost rolled his eyes in spite himself. Come to think of it, he never recalled seeing the Pompous King in a suit coat, and very seldom a tie. Almost as if he was somehow too righteous even for a full suit.

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue and the noise echoes in his glass before he took a small sip.

He watched the man work the room. And by "work the room" he meant, "be approached by every gay man in the bar and maybe a few straight ones". He didn't have to labor for attention, it just naturally flooded to him.

He was beaming, smile so bright it cut through the dark and made Iwaizumi squint-- or was that just a cringe?

Iwaizumi wanted to grind that smile into the bed sheets; he wanted to watch Mr. Wonderful look up at him, beg him, wanted to watch shoulders and body lurch in submission to him--

Iwaizumi's heart skipped a few beats and then pounded into overtime.

Oh.

Iwaizumi sighed at himself, running his hand through his hair and allowing his eyes to land on the other at the bar. He felt a heat rising. A heat and a desperate sense of want.

How long had it been?

Iwaizumi shook it away. He visibly shook his head and blew smoke exhaustedly from his mouth. Nope. He was not going to be another person to look up at him like he stood on a pedestal.

At some point Iwaizumi was stamping out his cigarette butt and withdrawing a new one. It hung limply in his mouth before Iwaizumi pinched his lips to make it jump to attention as he brought the flame to it. He closed his eyes on his first inhale, opening them again once the smoke had flooded the space in front of him.

He almost flinched when he saw the Tool staring at him from his spot on the bar. He was turned around, body leaning lithely against the bar and legs crossed in front of him. He smiled smoothly. Probably suavely.

Iwaizumi blank stared back at him, then shot more smoke in front of his face.

There was a flicker of something across the other's face. Irritation? Surprise? It was masked just enough that Iwaizumi couldn't quite make it out, but he was semi-pleased to crack that facade a little. He withheld the smile though, and turned his attention back to his whiskey. After a long moment he heard the high whine of the voice he knew to belong to Sir Gaudy, asking for another drink and making some bad humored joke.

A few long moments passed. Then there was a quiet voice, "Um... excuse me."

Iwaizumi shifted his gaze over and upward to see a man in a sports coat and glasses standing next to his table. He had a beer in each hand, lifting them slightly, "I was wondering if I could join you?"