( rhys. )
“Well, this is my best suit, so I suppose it’s to be expected.” breathless, disbelief layered upon disbelief. it really IS his best suit, black armani with gold floral detailing along the lapels, tailored to fit every inch of rhys’ maturing body. the same suit he’d worn on his last RED CARPET appearance, which had been abuzz in the media for WEEKS following. rhys won’t pretend he hadn’t been trying to impress SOMEONE tonight, but he’s not sure it had ever been intended for his date. it rarely is. rhys excuses tim’s exaggerated wink and reaches for his glass of wine, gripping the stem with trembling fingers. he is FOOLISHLY weak for timothy, and this is still SURREAL.
“You look fairly decent yourself.” rhys sets the glass back down, understatement steadied by the sweet tang of the alcohol. timothy has always dressed with the FLARE demanded of him, but sometimes rhys still thinks about the first time he’d seen him. in a suit slightly too big for his frame, shoes that didn’t fit quite right, still deemed perfect for the job despite it – - rhys’ father had always said it was the FIRMNESS of timothy’s handshake, the steel behind his eyes. rhys didn’t know what his father meant then, and he still doesn’t now ;; everything about timothy has always been soft when it comes to RHYS. when their eyes meet again, rhys sees nothing but warmth. comfort. safety. “Do you plan on walking me home after our meal, too? Like a proper gentleman would?”
incongruous eyes dance along rhys’ frame, taking in the way he looks and the gorgeous golden accents on the lapels of his jacket. rhys is PRETTY, and e v e r y other compliment in between that as well. but thinking of rhys as anything BUT his guard, well that’s just... completely unprofessional. he’s known rhys since he was a teenager, timothy’s positive it’d just turn out to be WEIRD anyways. but he grins, reaches for the complimentary water set in front of his plate—cause HE’S rhys’ date now. “ it suits you very well, rhys. “
he spares a glance down at himself and shrugs in response, a soft laugh falling past his mouth. he’s wearing a simple suit, that’s it—that’s really all his job requires. and it sure as hell beats whatever jack tried to make him. way too many goddamn layers. “ this is basically what i wear all the time. “ he sets the glass of water down after he’s finished taking another sip, soft little hum leaving his lips. “ absolutely, rhys. i’m nothing BUT a gentleman. “











