i can’t believe dan smith thought it was weird and embarrassing for him to love his own album cover,,,dude u r allowed to be proud of ur work man ur allowed to like ur stuff stop worrying me w ur self loathing modesty
freezes at the front door. He blinks at the bronze number, thinking about
whatever scenarios could be happening on the other side of the door. From the
loud grunts that the entire floor could hear, he can only come to one
conclusion. Or two.
he slowly opens the door and peeks around it, looking at the living room. They’re
not on the couch. His eyes wander elsewhere. Maybe they’re in the kitchen?
Oh god, no.
you guys!” Matsukawa shouts, dashing towards the kitchen. “We eat in there!”
pushes open the kitchen door and glances over to the kitchen island to find his
boyfriends arm wrestling.
course,”Matsukawa sighs, half-relieved,
half-disappointed. He knew it would be the first scenario. He throws his keys
on the counter.
these two arm wrestle was always the greatest experience he ever had. But now
they’ve been happening way too often, and as much at Matsukawa doesn’t mind
watching the display, it was always gonna be over something silly.
was your turn to do it!” Iwaizumi growls, tightening the already iron grip he
has on Hanamaki’s hand as he tries to push it down on the table. “I’m not
face drops. Of course it was gonna be over something like chores.
way in hell!” Hanamaki shouts, jabbing his toes into Iwaizumi’s shins.
howls and glares at him as he clenches his own hand in an attempt to crush
Hanamaki’s. “I’ve been working all day!”
gym doesn’t count as work!”
eyes widen in rage and he pushes even harder on Hanamaki’s hand. “I haven’t
been there all day unlike some people!”
sighs and buries his face in his hands. “Can someone for the love of god please decide whose gonna cook dinner?”
Iwaizumi and Hanamaki pause and whip their heads around to stare at him with
fire in their eyes. “Why don’t you do it?!”
rears back a little but he still glares at the two nonetheless. “Because I’ve been working all day and I’m starving.”
clicks his tongue and turns back to face Hanamaki. “Well it’s gonna be decided
when I finally kick this guy’s ass!”
hell you are!” Hanamaki shouts, leaning forward to try and put more strength
into his hand. It doesn’t seem to work, and his hand starts to get lower and
leans against another counter and watches the muscles in their arms strain, and
he can clearly see how purple their fingers have gotten. Hanamaki’s lips look
swollen from biting on them, and Iwaizumi’s forehead wrinkles make him look more
like an old man than someone who’s concentrating. How long have they been doing
this? Whose idea was—
thoughts stop completely at Hanamaki’s shrill shrieking when Iwaizumi finally
slams his poor hand into the table.
Iwaizumi shouts, raising his fists into the air victoriously and rising from
his seat. The chair falls backwards against the counter with a loud ‘clunk’.
grunts a little, wiggling his hand to get rid of the pain. “Damn you to hell,”
he grits out, cradling his hand.
“Finally, damn,” Matsukawa sighs,
leisurely pushing himself away from the counter. “Someone won.”
looks at him in disbelief. “Don’t you even care about me and my poor hand!? How
am I gonna cook?”
looks at him with a sympathetic pout. “Aww babe, it’ll be okay.” Matsukawa can
clearly see the mischief on his face. He gently grabs Hanamaki’s hand and
massages the palm and his fingers. “I’ll help you. I can be the taste tester.”
you kidding me!?” Hanamaki shrieks. He doesn’t pull his hand away from Iwaizumi’s,
was rooting for Hajime to be honest,” Matsukawa says. “Sorry Hiro.”