Just like he never worked in the flower shop when he could get away with slacking off, Yoji never stood in the flower shop when he could get away with leaning on something. He was currently bent over the counter near the register, showing off and thrusting out his tight ass in skintight slacks and the bared small of his back. Aya didn’t want to notice but couldn’t help himself, didn’t want to want but couldn’t help himself. At least his apron hid part of his reaction.
No need to ask if Yoji did these things on purpose because of course he did these things on purpose. Yoji flirted with the world with almost every breath he took and hungered for people to pay attention to him. He didn’t do these things just to toy with Aya, although he might consider that an amusing side effect if he became aware of Aya’s interest. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be aware, so Aya really shouldn’t hate him for it.
Though Aya hated himself more than he hated Yoji, because he didn’t have the time or right to leer at Yoji, not when he had a family to avenge and a sister to take care of. He needed to be focused, not distracted by self-indulgence, especially not something as... base and pathetic as this.
So far, as far as Aya knew, none of the other members of Weiß had noticed his interest in Yoji, Yoji included. Perhaps his impassive and sometimes angry mask held up. Better Yoji think Aya disdained him than realize the truth, because although Aya often trusted Yoji with his life he’d couldn’t trust him with his heart.
Yoji couldn’t even take care of his own.