Yami no Matsuei, Tsuzuki/Touda, patience, what it means to not be human
He can wait forever. In the dark of Tenku's cell, there was nothing but waiting. His patience stretched onto the infinite. There is no hurry, for anything. He takes this life as it was given to him by his master, and does nothing. He waits.
The waiting is broken by infrequent parties, long hours of basking, and the occasional dodge of Suzaku's sword; but mostly he is left alone to wait.
His master never calls him. Never demands the power that is his right. Which is a good thing, for Touda would burn both enemy and friend alike. That is his way. Tsuzuki loves him, in that sugar sweet way he loves all of them, but he doesn't trust the snake and that is wise.
Still, Touda waits. For Tsuzuki's hands, his mouth, the restless flex of his hips. No words between them, no orders, so he is left the choice to refuse or take as he wishes. He is free.
And he is chained. To the whisper thin noises Tsuzuki makes with his bright eyes squeezed shut. The salty musk that's somehow sweet on his tongue and the shaky hands that grip into his hair. He is bound to the one who set him free at all.