Kyouya hated to touch himself, but there are times when he can't help it. When the swirls of blonde hair and wide violet eyes become too much his hand gently glides down his body. He takes his cock into his hand cruelly—as if punishing it for stealing his time. The he begins to stroke it, his hand blurring as he pumps faster and faster.
Kyouya always comes silently, his mouth pursed in a tight line. In his mind he always screams for Tamaki—but his mouth would not let the name slip out. When it's over Kyouya cleans up briskly before summoning his notebook and returning to work.