[It seems like it should be strange, to so easily tug and boss around Toshinori. Back when they first started working together, it was nearly unheard of for someone to take that sort of dismissive, measured tone with All Might. Still, he'd done it, time and time again. He has the same advantage here that he did as a teacher: Toshinori doesn't know what the hell he's doing. As much as he tries to appear heartless, he can't just stand by and watch someone not know what the hell they're doing.]
[Then they're shifting from one avenue of trust to another. It was one thing to know how wounded Toshinori had been, to be aware of little bottles of medication and dietary restrictions. It was another to feel the curve of his side dip down so precariously. He can take a cue from how gently his hand is moved, resting it down on the fabric with a ghostlike touch.]
Ah. [It's not revulsion, just a sort of quiet surprise playing on his face. That surprise settles down, his eyelids droop a bit again and he carefully moves his fingertips to assess the state of the damage. Would it have been better to have just seen it at some point? His invasive nature hadn't extended to the other's body, that would have been a step too far, even though he could have easily yanked the other's shirt up at some point.]
[His hand moves a little, dragging against the fabric. He pauses,]
So is it better for me to touch it than see it? [It was something he wanted to share, after all. Toshinori wouldn't be so stupid as to immediately break the second clause of Shouta's terms. This was the level he was comfortable with in this moment. His fingers twitch ever so slightly, wanting to use his senses to take in as much information as he could about it.]
You touched mine, after all. [He says it seriously, for as childish as the justification is. His hand dips down a bit, to the hem of Toshinori's shirt, then hesitates there. Restraint.] Or would it be painful?
no subject
[Then they're shifting from one avenue of trust to another. It was one thing to know how wounded Toshinori had been, to be aware of little bottles of medication and dietary restrictions. It was another to feel the curve of his side dip down so precariously. He can take a cue from how gently his hand is moved, resting it down on the fabric with a ghostlike touch.]
Ah. [It's not revulsion, just a sort of quiet surprise playing on his face. That surprise settles down, his eyelids droop a bit again and he carefully moves his fingertips to assess the state of the damage. Would it have been better to have just seen it at some point? His invasive nature hadn't extended to the other's body, that would have been a step too far, even though he could have easily yanked the other's shirt up at some point.]
[His hand moves a little, dragging against the fabric. He pauses,]
So is it better for me to touch it than see it? [It was something he wanted to share, after all. Toshinori wouldn't be so stupid as to immediately break the second clause of Shouta's terms. This was the level he was comfortable with in this moment. His fingers twitch ever so slightly, wanting to use his senses to take in as much information as he could about it.]
You touched mine, after all. [He says it seriously, for as childish as the justification is. His hand dips down a bit, to the hem of Toshinori's shirt, then hesitates there. Restraint.] Or would it be painful?