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"Have you ever worn your uniform like this before?" Akira asks.
Ryuji shrugs, "Yeah, picture day last year, and the year before that. Why?"
"Oh, no reason." he says, stifling a small laugh behind his hand as he looks him up and down.
Looking down at himself, to say Ryuji looks dressed right would be...
generous
. And he knows it, even if he doesn't want to admit it. His blazer is wrinkled and scrunched in places, and he only actually bothered to put one button through its hole (the wrong one at that, not that he realizes). His sweater is bunched up and halfway untucked from his pants. His suspenders hang off his shoulders and rest at his hips like they usually do, but mixed with the more formal ensemble it just looks... sloppy.
He'd woken up late, and had been halfway dressed before he'd remembered there were pictures today. He’s honestly amazed he even made it to the train station on time at all, much less that he even bothered to swap the outfit out. He owed it to his mom though to at least
try
to look presentable this one time every year. He might not like it, but he’s happy to do it if it makes her happy.
His boyfriend trying his best not to laugh at him though is not helping his resolve.
"What's so damn funny?" he demands, and it clearly takes almost everything Akira has not to double over into a laughing fit right then and there. Ryuji can feel the heat traveling up to his face, flushing it mercilessly. “Jeez, c'mon man I don’t look
that
bad, do I?”
"No, it's nothing, nothing at all." Akira assures, waving his hand and having to stop a snort or two from escaping him. "Just— here, lemme help you for a sec. We'll get you all fixed up."
Akira's hands go to work at an instant, and in the middle of the subway platform it should be embarrassing, but Ryuji's not really ready to complain about it. He likes Akira's hands on him, loves the way he tenderly readjusts the fabrics that hang on his body to look more pressed and clean. He enjoys the way that Akira’s fingers skim at his waistband as he fixes his sweater and retucks it properly, moving up to straighten the collar against his neck and smiling when Ryuji gulps at the light touch. Laughs a bit to himself as he's forced to take of his blazer, Akira flapping it through the air once or twice to get some of the wrinkles out while Ryuji's instructed to fix his suspenders.
When he’s satisfied with the blazer, Akira's hands reach over and work on said suspenders when Ryuji gets them up, his touch ginger and smooth as he adjusts them to make sure they sit right on his shoulders. His hand lingers for a moment, pressing against Ryuji’s chest and holding it where his heart is before lifting it away. Ryuji wonders if he can tell how fast his heart is already beating.
The smirk on his face says yes, he can.
"Alright, arms out." he says, holding his blazer out for each of Ryuji's arms to slip through. Ryuji acts accordingly, holding his arms out to his sides and letting Akira slip the blazer across his back. When he's done he tugs on the front so it sits comfortably across his torso, and Ryuji almost hates to admit how much better he looks.
He’s never matched with Akira like this before. It’s… kind of nice.
"Isn't that a handsome guy?" Akira chides, moving his hands across his front and slipping each of the red buttons through their holes. "All ready for picture day now, huh?"
"Bluuhh..." Ryuji groans, sticking his tongue out. "Don't start gettin' all sappy with me. It's not a big deal. I just wanna be done with it."
"I mean, I kinda like it." Akira says, finishing with the last button and tugging on the collar of Ryuji's blazer, pulling him closer. "I've never gotten to see you like this, you look cute."
He makes a noise of discontent as Akira fiddles with his lapels, but can’t hide that he’s blushing anyways. Akira’s right, he’s never worn his uniform in front of him. Bits and pieces of it, sure, but never like this. Last year Akira had transferred to school weeks after they’d done this, and the year before he probably hadn’t even know that Shujin existed. This was different for Ryuji, but it was even more so for Akira. Ryuji’s pretty sure he hasn’t dressed even remotely formal in front of Akira before, not even on dates. And the way he’s looking at him, with shining lidded eyes full of affection, he can’t help but feel just a touch self conscious.
Maybe Akira likes the way he looks, but it’s not him. And he can’t match or even compare to the devilishly handsome looks that his boyfriend dons on a daily basis. It’s pretty unfair.
"I don't get how you wear this effin' shit every day.” he grumbles. “The ones you had back in your hometown that you showed me looked way more comfy, dunno how you bother with these like nothin'."
Akira shrugs, "I think it looks good on me."
"Yeah, but every damn thing looks good on you. I can’t compete at all." Ryuji whines.
He gets a little chuckle out of that and is pulled closer, enough to where their chests are touching and people around them are starting to stare. Akira doesn't really care though, and if Ryuji's honest he doesn't either. Not when he can feel the heat of Akira against him, making him warmer than he could ever need in the somewhat chilly air of the subway.
He's so touchy, and Ryuji loves it,
craves
it. It's just so nice to be able to have him here, next to him, right where he belongs. He can never complain about Akira wanting to hold onto him and dote on him, even if it's over something as dumb as a school uniform and makes him feel a bit like a little kid again. It's kind of silly, maybe even embarrassing, but there is
nothing
that feels as good as Akira's attention focused on nothing but him.
He's so damn lucky Akira stayed in Tokyo. He's
so lucky
Akira stayed with
him
.
"Well, for the record," Akira starts, brandishing that killer smile and sultry look of his that makes Ryuji want to melt on sight, "
I
think that you look good in everything too. This just as much as anything else. You clean up nicer than you think you do. Maybe even better than me."
“Ha! What the hell ever. You don’t actually think that.”
Akira shrugs, “Eh, maybe you’re right.”
“What! Come on, dude!”
He laughs hard at that. “I’m just kidding.” he assures him. “You do look good,
so
good. It’s kind of weird seeing you like this, but I like it a lot. You’re really handsome, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Ryuji shoots him a shy smile and places his arms around Akira’s waist. "Do I gotta start dressin' this way all the time to get you to be this clingy, then?"
Akira rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "No, of course not." His hands move up his chest and wrap themselves around his neck, Ryuji cursing that he can only just barely feel the hint of warmth from Akira's hands through the fabric. That melts away though when he's tugged forward, and Akira presses his lips against his own. Ryuji can taste coffee and some kind of sweet thing, a pastry maybe?
It's a really nice combination regardless,
especially
when mixed with Akira.
When he pulls back he's left almost breathless, but even more so when Akira smiles at him and says, "You're perfect to me no matter how you look."
Ryuji groans as the blush covers his face with a vengeance, and Akira just laughs while Ryuji tucks his head into his shoulder and he starts rubbing his fingers underneath the fabric of his turtleneck and against his neck with a playful intent. It doesn’t do much to wash the flush away from his face, but it feels nice anyways.
“Besides,” Akira goes on. “It’s definitely cute, like
really
cute, but it’s not the same. You wouldn’t be
my
boyfriend without your stupid fashion sense. It’s weird not seeing you with one of those dumbass t-shirts on. I almost didn’t recognize you when you walked up.”
Ryuji snorts, “You love my dumbass t-shirts.”
“I do.” Akira confirms with a nod. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“God, can you two go be gross somewhere else!” Morgana yowls from Akira’s bag, popping his head out to glare. “I’m getting sick just listening. Why couldn’t we have just gone back to your hometown? It would have been better than this nightmare.”
Ryuji lifts his head up and glares back, “Wasn’t nothin’ stoppin’ you, furball. I’m sure they got a train or two we can throw you onto that’ll take you where you wanna go.”
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t miss me.” he says, batting his eyes.
Ryuji rolls his eyes with a smile and lifts himself off of Akira, meeting his own amused smile just as the intercom announces their train is arriving. Before letting go he places a quick kiss against his lips and lingers just for a moment to say, “Thanks for getting me all dressed up, mom.”
“You’re welcome, want me to pack you a snack too while I’m at it?” Akira prods as he pulls away. “I only have apple and orange slices though, only the
best
for my little man.”
“Ugh, nasty.” Ryuji laughs, letting Akira’s hand sneak into his. “Don’t talk to me like that, it’s gross.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Akira agrees, pulling them towards the train. “Besides, if I was your mom I couldn’t grab your ass in public without people looking at me like I’m a freak, so I guess this’ll do.”
“
Gross!
” Morgana shouts again, sticking himself back in the bag. Akira and Ryuji just laugh.
The uniform won’t last. As soon as he gets this shit done he’ll shed as much of it as he can, and he’s not gunna wear it again unless he has to— this just isn’t his style. But right here, next to Akira, matching him and holding his hand amongst all the other train goers, he’s feeling on top of the world.
He might even find that it fits him just fine.