Gakuto just didn't understand why Ootori was looking at the suit like it was a dead bit of roadkill lying flopped across his forearm. He was trying to hide it—because 'Tori was just cute like that, and he never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings, even when they deserved it—and it wasn't as if he was holding it away from him, but the way his fingers kept twitching just a little bit away from the soft white cloth…
Gakuto harrumphed. No-one ever appreciated his taste, seriously. Except for Yuushi, but that was different.
He didn't see what was so wrong with the suit. Ootori wasn't as tanned as Shishido, and with that hair… it wasn't like he had Gakuto's red tumble of silk (and, of course, the killer ass) to make black look too hot to touch. So a tux would just make him look washed out, if he couldn't even show off his pretty tennis tan. And he'd be boring. Ootori wanted to look boring on his special day…?
Well, the white suit was different, that was for sure. It wasn't as if it had any fur on it, or anything—Ootori's fashion sense really was a waste. And it made it so hard to get him gifts, sometimes, because if he didn't even like fake fur… well, padded handcuffs would work just as well, but they really were just not as much fun.
Gakuto'd always thought that Ootori's hair always looked like fur anyway, so fuzzy… well, fuzzy whenever he was actually sitting down somewhere so that Gakuto could actually reach his head, and when he buried both hands in it and ruffled to his little heart's delight, it made Ootori laugh. Which was cute.
And then Shishido got mad, 'cause apparently no-one was supposed to pet Ootori but Shishido Ryou, but it wasn't like Gakuto was petting him that way. (Wasn't his fault that Shishido had a dirty mind.)
Well, okay, so Gakuto wouldn't have minded all that much, really, if he'd gotten the chance to get a nice little stroke in, now and again—Hell, he wasn't above sneaking a peek or two in the locker room, and Ootori was hot when he wasn't being all self-conscious—but Ootori was just a little too… too… something, for Gakuto to ever really think of trying it. Sweet? Yeah, he was, but that wasn't it. Cute? Sort of. Not really.
Yeah, that was it.
Which was why the white just worked.
"Why don't you just try it on?" he wheedled, reaching out to run a hand over the cloth. It really was just so much softer than the heavy stuff they made those black suits out of. Lighter, too. "It'll look so nice against your hair. Set off those pretty silver highlights…"
"I… I don't think that's a good idea, Mukahi-san." Ootori's neck twisted as he looked around—kind of frantically, come to think. Probably for a saleswoman. Or a hanger. Or maybe his Shishido-san. "Don't you think black is much more… ah, classic?"
Nope. No saleslady. She'd run off after Gakuto'd asked about what kind of underwear wouldn't show under the white suit pants. (Silly, she shouldn't have been working here if she couldn't answer that kind of question…)
And no Shishido, either. Probably a good thing that Atobe and Jirou had dragged the (kicking and screaming) dash specialist off, saying something about how they had to arrange for flowers.
Oh, right! Flowers!
"Come on, don't be boring, Ootori!" Gakuto coaxed, plucking the pants from Ootori and holding them up; the cloth fell so nicely when he held it up to Ootori's hips. Of course, it really was kind of pointless to just see the front, that wasn't really what Shishido was going to be looking at, anyway… he trotted around to hold it up against Ootori's waist, in the back.
Huh. Ootori did have a pretty, pert little ass. It didn't compare to Gakuto's, of course, but it wasn't bad at all. And the white cloth, even with the folds of Ootori's pressed slacks lumping through it, did very, very nice things to that gentle curve…
Gakuto reached out and smoothed the cloth over his kouhai's butt.
Really. How could anyone blame him for wanting just one little touch…?
Besides, Ootori really made the funniest sounds when he squeaked and jumped, but honestly, Gakuto'd just been checking the fit of the pants, ri-ight?
He grinned, and took back the slacks. No point in making the sweetheart suspicious… "Honestly, 'Tori, it's great. This'll look much nicer with your… what is it? A… a… what's it called? The flower thingie?"
"Do you mean a bouquet?" Yuushi supplied, raising an eyebrow. Mmm, the last time Yuushi'd gotten him flowers, they'd ended up all over the bed… and, well, all over them, so it hadn't been all too bad, even if they'd both had allergies so badly the next day that they'd been sneezing all through practice… "I don't believe—"
That… didn't quite sound right, but if Yuushi said so… "Right! Your bouquet. I just bet Shishido's getting white flowers, 'cause he always talks 'bout just how nice your hair is, right?" He really did. 'Specially when drunk. "Lilies, I bet. You like lilies? So it'll match," Gakuto grinned in triumph, plucking up the suit jacket and holding it up to Ootori's shoulders.
"I like lilies, but…" Ootori blinked at him, curiously, then down at the cloth draped over his chest with something that definitely looked like panic. "I don't… I don't think I'm going to be carrying a bouquet, Mukahi-san."
"Why not?" Gakuto pointed out. "It's traditional. Isn't it?"
Ootori's brows furrowed in just the cutest way, and his little bud of a mouth went pout. Awww. "I don't believe men traditionally carry bouquets, Mukahi-san. A boutonniere, perhaps?"
"But you're gay." And never mind that Gakuto'd definitely heard Ootori moaning for more, straight through the door, when he'd gone to grab Shishido's history notes one day—just the fact that 'Tori knew a word like 'boutonniere'…
The noise coming from somewhere low in Yuushi's throat might have been a laugh, except why would Yuushi be laughing at him? He was perfectly serious! "He's hardly that kind of gay, Gakuto."
Yeah, well. "But isn't wearing a white suit supposed to be… what's the word, Yuushi? Pimpin'?" Gakuto blinked. "Hey, maybe you should wear one, too?"
Gakuto yelped and skittered forwards as the flat of a big hand left a stinging print on his rear. Hey!
He wasn't serious, not really—so why'd Yuushi just whacked him on the butt?
Mmm, oh, wait. From the way Yuushi was smiling, maybe that was a promise, not a threat… "If I'm not mistaken, Gakuto, white is meant to be worn only by… certain people."
Oh, right. But that would mean that 'Tori couldn't wear white, either, so that wouldn't be any fun. Maybe if he could just get his kouhai into a dressing room… Gakuto grinned, and grabbed Ootori's hand, tugging him towards the cubicles. He was sure that if Ootori actually tried it on, he'd like it, really…
"Really, this isn't necessary, Mukahi-senpai…" Gakuto glanced over his shoulder to find Ootori's eyes very, very wide. "Why can't I just wear a tuxedo?"
The poor baby sounded so plaintive. "Well, okay…" Gakuto tapped his lower lip, absently. It wouldn't be as good, but… "Do they have white ones? Shishido's going to be wearing a black tuxedo, right, and you can't both wear the same thing…"
Goodness, it really wouldn't do for all of Ootori's blood to drain out of his face like that… It made him look so pasty. "A white tuxedo, Mukahi-san…?"
"I'm inclined to agree with him, Gakuto." Aww. Everyone was ganging up on him. Even Yuushi. Even though Yuushi's lips were twitching. "It's not as if he's—"
Gakuto scowled. Yuushi didn't need to keep on saying it. He'd hurt Ootori's feelings, or embarrass him, or something. "Yeah, yeah, we know 'Tori's punched in his V-card, and all that, but still. But it doesn't mean he can't wear white. He'll always be a virgin at heart."
Dead silence reigned in the corner of the shop.
Even though Gakuto could almost hear all the blood pouring into Ootori's cheeks. Well, the bright red was sort of an improvement on the corpse-colour he'd been just a second ago… except the mostly incoherent sputtering probably translated into something like, "Mukahi-san, don't say things like that!" or maybe it was "Shishido-san, help!" Sputtering really wasn't all that dignified. Ootori was going to have to work on that.
"Gakuto?" Yuushi's voice sounded… just a little pinched around the edges. Like he was trying not to laugh, maybe. "Ah… you do realise that this is for the prom, don't you…?"
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