#nijimido

Shuuzou is not terribly fond of opera—he can’t sit still for so long, especially when it has to do with a story in a language he can’t understand. Some of the music is nice, but some of it just isn’t to his taste (it’s not like he hates classical music but he’s not big on the vocal style) and then, of course, there’s dressing up. Again, it’s not something he can’t handle but he feels a little bit out of place in this kind of a tuxedo. He sighs, pushing at his hair to get it to stay down.

And then there’s the tie—he’d worn one all through middle school, but even so it never felt right and he always kind of looked delinquent-ish (as one classmate had put it) what with the way it always managed to lean to one side and flap in the slightest breeze—he’d always looked sharp, but not quite sharp enough.

“Are you ready?”

“Does it look like I am?”

It comes out a bit harsher than he intends it, but Shintarou doesn’t flinch. He strides across the room (damn, his legs are long) and peers down at Shuuzou’s tie through his lenses. And then his fingers are at Shuuzou’s throat, through the loop in his tie, undoing it. He pulls at it gently several times and then reknots it, too quickly for Shuuzou to see exactly what he’s doing (it’s definitely some fancy shit that he’s never seen before, though).

“There.”

Shuuzou looks in the mirror. He still feels kind of ridiculous but he definitely looks presentable.

“Thanks.”

Shintarou inclines his head slightly, and Shuuzou offers out his arm. Shintarou takes it cautiously. (Shuuzou’s probably doing it all wrong, in the wrong room facing Shintarou at the wrong angle but this high society shit is just endless and even Shintarou will admit that the ritual is maybe a little bit too much. But this part is fun as hell, even if they’re just walking down the stairs and to the door like this before waiting for a cab.)

*

Shuuzou spends the whole show watching Shintarou tilted forward in his seat, eyes flickering across the stage. He is gorgeous and bright and so connected to whatever the hell is going on that it takes on almost a magical kind of quality, if Shuuzou was feeling particularly cheesy. Shintarou asks him afterward which part he liked the best and Shuuzou shrugs and says he liked everything.

Shintarou frowns.

“Okay, fine. You were the best part.”