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“It’s gonna look stupid.” Kojiro groans, palms awkwardly splaying out beside himself. Kaoru closes up the bottle of black nail polish he just finished applying to the other’s hands, before moving on to foundation.
“Stop saying thaaat.” He warns, trying to focus, but in his mind, there’s always time to reprimand his partner for self doubt, just as Koiro often has to do for him from time to time.
A few months ago, Kaoru might have believed that Kojiro didn’t have an ounce of self doubt in his whole body. He was always peacocking himself, he seemed to love showing off his body, and yet, with this, it’s been a journey trying to get him to follow through with his own desires.
The first time they talked about gender, it was Kaoru’s feelings on the table. He had always chosen to be open with Kojiro about his expression, that he was (usually) a ‘he’, but as with anything else, he liked to bend the rules. Sometimes that meant a little eyeliner and lingerie, and other times, it was something a bit more, like flowing sundresses, bright eyeshadows, and a ‘they’, or even a ‘she’.
Going over these things in depth when they started dating was an interesting leap, and a lot of it was surprising for Kojiro. Not just that Kaoru sometimes liked being called ‘Princess’ and ‘Good girl’, wearing soft pastels and flashy accessories, or seeing his own lipstick marks left on Kojiro’s neck, he could see that. . . but what Kojiro really couldn’t believe was that it almost sounded. . . fun?
“I wish I could pull off something like that.” He had casually mentioned one night, something he simply threw out into the void and expected to be glossed over. Yet, if it weren’t for how emotionally available the pair had become and how much it softened Kaoru’s heart, he would have reached over and smacked him.
“What on earth do you mean?” Kaoru asks. Kojiro looks a little nervous at his tone, averting his gaze, but eventually he decides to answer as Kaoru gets closer, not letting him hide away.
“. . . I just mean that. . . you knowww. . . you’re a lot. . . smaller. . . And. . . . . . . I dunno, softer looking?”
“. . . Soft?” Kaoru asks with the raise of his brow, and perhaps the challenging flex of a bicep.
“You know what I mean.” Kojiro groans, rolling his eyes. “. . . It’s easier for you to look androgynous. I’m just too beefy, I’d look dumb in makeup.” He laughs out.
Kaoru does not laugh, choosing instead to stare him down. It's a loud stare, Kojiro can tell.
After lovingly ranting to him, using many big words that went flying over his head, such as ‘internalized’ and ‘binary’ and ‘social construct’, Kaoru insisted Kojiro tell him exactly what he wanted to look like ''''‘if he could’''' for just one day, and then promised with a vengeance to make it happen.
“. . . I’m just saying, don’t be offended if it ends up looking stup-” Kojiro argues in modern time.
“If you say that word again, I’ll poke you in the eye.” Kaoru continues, mixing foundations on the back of his hand with a brush to match the rich, dark tone of Kojiro’s tan skin. "Does it look stupid in your mind?"
"What?" Kojiro asks. ". . . Well, I mean, no, but I-"
"Then trust my skills, gorilla brain. Hold still." Kaoru replies.
“Well, I was right before! The face masks did look stupid.” Kojiro proclaims. Over the past hour, they had both been sporting all different kinds of products, like green clays with exfoliating beads, serum infused sheets of silicone, and a charcoal gel that dried into something like glue. It made Kojiro neary cry trying to get it off, because according to Kaoru, he ‘did it wrong’. Now how can you do a face mask wrong? You put it on your face, and boom, done.
“Skincare always looks stupid.” Kaoru sighs. “This is the part that’s supposed to look not stupid, so shut up.” He adds, before going in with the brush and stippling the product on.
“Euuuuugh. It tickles.” Kojiro complains. Kaoru rolls his eyes at him.
“I’m not using that much, you big baby. You already have decent skin, this just makes a better base for contour and highlight.”
“Why do you need all that shit?” Kojiro grumbles.
“Relax, I’m just gonna bring out your natural features. . . Of course, I could soften them for you if you’d like, but you just have such a good jawline. . .” Kaoru trails off, breaking his concentration when he realizes what he just said.
But it’s too late, the peacock has already come back, and Kojiro smirks, big and bold, placing his thumb and index finger under his chin in a flashy manner.
“You like my jawline???”
“I’d like it better if it wasn’t moving so much.” Kaoru replies, holding Kojiro’s mouth shut for emphasis.
Much to Kaoru’s lament, the second he removes his hand to do his work, Kojiro is back to it.
“. . . All I asked for this morning was eyeliner like yours. Is it really so hard for you to listen to me?”
“I’m listening closer than you might think. . .” Kaoru says, voice still distant in focus as he begins lightly contouring around Kojiro’s cheekbones.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Stop moving so much.” Kaoru barks out, blending the brown lines on his face as he answers his question, using a gently mocking laid-back tone similar to the inflection Kojiro had once used to convey this information. “. . . That time I asked you what you wanted to look like, you said you wanted ‘softer, maybe a little fem but in a chill way, still masculine’, some eyeliner, no lips, no dresses, no heels, minimal accessories. Believe me, I held back a lot to match your rather unceremonious vibes.”
“So, why do you still have an entire arsenal picked out?” Kojiro implores, gesturing to Kaoru’s bed, currently covered in various makeup and clothing items.
Kaoru tries to shrug the comment off, replacing the contour stick in his hands with a small pot of dark eyeshadow.
“. . . because. . .” He shrugs his shoulders again, further feigning his sense of innocence. “. . . your eyes are a completely different shape than mine, so. . . I wanted to be prepared, and. . . . . . I figured a smokey eye would work better than just eyeliner. . .”
“Kaoruuu-” Kojiro groans, but is hastily cut off.
“Oh come on, it’s the same concept as eyeliner except blended out. Everyone looks good in a smokey eye! My grandfather would look good in a smokey eye.” Kaoru defends, and at that comment, Kojiro can’t help but laugh.
“. . . Oh, you don’t think so, huh?” Kaoru asks, passive aggressive and cocky, turning his attention away from Kojiro to scroll heavily through his phone.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Kojiro tries to apologize, but peppering his words between laughs doesn't add much to its authenticity.
“No, shut up. You should see this anyways.” Kaoru replies.
And then, Kaoru brandishes his phone, displaying a picture. Specifically, it’s a picture of a picture, and the real photograph looks very old, and slightly damaged. It’s in black and white, with a middle aged Japanese man who appears to be at an underground party of some kind, his arm around the shoulder of another man who’s partially out of view. When Kojiro inspects closer, he realizes the man’s got huge doll-like lashes, with an exaggerated cut crease, and though he can’t tell what color, there’s clearly some kind of bright eyeshadow underneath.
“. . . . . .” Kojiro’s eyes widen. “Wait a sec. . . is that your grandpa?”
Kaoru smirks, lowering his phone, picking up the black eyeshadow pot and stirring up powder with a brush.
“In the flesh. . .” Kaoru confirms. “. . . He used to go to all these bars in Ni-chōme back in the day, I think this photo was taken sometime in the late 60s. . .” Kaoru leans in. “Close.”
Kojiro smirks, but obliges, closing his eyes and letting Kaoru pat the color on.
“. . . So being gay runs in your family then?” He jokes.
“Being queer runs in the family. He wasn't trans, just a little gender non-compliant, and he obviously liked women too, considering he married one.”
“Huh. . .” Kojiro says.
“. . . What?” Kaoru eventually asks, stopping to switch eyes.
“. . . He just doesn’t bear a very striking resemblance to you, I guess. . .” Kojiro mutters, and Kaoru smiles, catching a hint of what’s on his mind.
“I know. . . You met him a few times, didn't you. . . He looks a lot bulkier there than he did in his last few years, don’t you think. . . Short, dark hair. . . strong features. . . And this was the sixties, so, if a ~manly man~ like him could do it back then. . .”
Kaoru pulls away, and Kojiro rolls his eyes, big and dramatic for effect.
“Okaaaaaay, I get it, I get it. I have to do this to appease your gay ancestors.”
“Bi.” Kaoru corrects again.
“Bye~.” Kojiro jokes, getting up and walking to the door, preparing to leave for all of 10 seconds just for a pun and a visual gag. He would refer to this kind of thing as ‘dad humor’, but Kaoru always referred to it as ‘annoying’ and ‘unnecessary’ and-
Kojiro catches himself in the mirror.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
He hears Kaoru’s footsteps behind him, notices him smiling in his peripheral view of the mirror, but his eyes are stuck dead ahead at the perfectly blended ring of black around both his eyelids. It brought out the wine-colored irises so intensely, and actually seemed to deepen his browbone, but it looked. . . okay?
“How’d you manage to give me more shadows than before and still make me look less masc?” Kojiro asks, furrowing and unfurrowing his brows to get a better look at it.
“Well, I’m not finished yet. . .” Kaoru replies, draping over his shoulders.
Kojiro turns to face him. “Hey, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. . . I-” He bites his lip.
“. . . Say it.”
“Nnnnnnmngnmnh.” Kojiro whines, as though it physically hurts him.
“Say iiiiiiit.” Kaoru says, getting closer and pointing at him with a threatening aura.
“. . . You were riiiiiight. I like it.” He finally says. Kaoru claps a few quick times for himself, annoying Kojiro who simply rolls his eyes to the skies--
“. . . Oh shit! If I look up, I can see the black.” Kojiro abruptly states, making Kaoru snicker. “That’s so weird. . .”
“Oh yeah? Just wait for the mascara.” He adds.
Kojiro grimaces hard at the idea of a wand covered in chemicals getting that close to his open eye, as it's much scarier than a brush against his closed lids. . . but. . . he is kind of curious at this point. Maybe it’d look better like that?
“. . . All right, just pull your medieval torture devices out and get it over with.” Kojiro laments, sitting back in his chair.
Kaoru rolls his eyes. Although, at this point, rolled eyes and quiet scoffs might as well be the pair's hugs and kisses.
“Just sit still and you’ll be fine. . .” Kaoru assures, pulling out the wand and approaching the other’s eyes. . . . . .
“. . . . . . Good lord, why are you breathing like that?” Kaoru says, after taking a few quick swipes to the top lash before redepositing to get more product.
“. . . Because I’m in fight or flight.” Kojiro strains out, subtle high pitched wheezes coming with every hastened breath.
“Oh come on, it’s not that ba-” Kaoru moves in for the other eye, apparently just a tad too fast.
“AaAH!” Kojiro lets out a yelp, jumping back as Kaoru stares at him incredulously.
“Be careful with that thing!” He shouts.
“. . . You are the worst. . . Sit Still-” Kaoru warns, but Kojiro still pulls back instinctively, before falling into a small fit of giggles.
“It’s scary!!” He defends as Kaoru glares at him.
“I’m nearly done. If you’d just SIT STILL, I could already be-” Kaoru goes in, and this time Kojiro puts his fists up in a karate position.
“Okay. That’s it.” Kaoru sighs, sitting back in resignation as Kojiro is cackling into his hands.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY, Okay, fine, I’m good. I’ll sit still.” Kojiro says, cheeky smile still plastered on his face.
Kaoru carefully leans in, pausing once to make sure Kojiro isn’t gonna move again, causing him to snicker, before giving Kojiro’s lashes a few final swipes.
“There. See, you big baby? All done.”
“Ugh, finally-” Kojiro goes to get up, before Kaoru drags him back down.
“With the eyes.” He clarifies, pulling out a few lipsticks and glosses.
“. . . I said no lips!”
“Have you ever heard of a nude lip?” Kaoru says, glancing underneath the items to see their colors, quickly settling on one and putting the rest away.
“. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .”
“. . . Just get it out now before I need you to sit still again.” Kaoru requests, deadpanned and spiritually broken. Kojiro lets out an obnoxiously immature laugh over the word ‘nude’, but eventually, manages to settle back down.
“. . . . . Anyways, nude lip refers to colors that are closer to your skin tone, so they look more natural. . . Like this.” Kaoru pulls a lip wand from its pot. It’s covered in gloss of a pale fleshy color, somewhere between peach and pink, champagne maybe? It’s somewhat sheer looking, with just a slight shimmer beaming from small flecks of gold glitter.
“. . . . . .” Kojiro sighs. “All right, fine. As long as it’s not bright red or something.”
“Now what do you have against red?” Kaoru asks, almost offended. “You’d look absolutely stunning in red.”
“. . . . . Green hair. . . red lips. . . Kaoru. That’s the Joker.”
Kaoru bites his lip, hiding a smirk.
“See!”
“No, no no, It’s just a- very funny coincidence. . .” Kaoru says, stifling a laugh midway. “. . . but I mean it.” He continues, delicately swiping the wand over Kojiro’s lips.
“If I had total control over your look today. . . I would have probably chosen a deep, rich red. . .” He mutters. Kojiro’s grateful the attention is on his lips, and hopefully not the soft blush rising over his cheeks.
“. . . . . . plum would look good too. . . . .” He whispers, as if he’s simply thinking out loud now. “. . . . mm. . . maybe leaning a little towards brown. . . just something nice and warm. . . but dark too. . . to bring out the shape of your lips. . .” He states, putting the wand back in the pot and setting the gloss aside.
Looking up at Kojiro again, he does notice the blush, especially because it’s gotten much more vivid in the last few seconds.
“What?” Kaoru asks.
“. . .” Kojiro shrugs. “. . . You just seem pretty passionate about this.”
“Well of course I am. . .”
Kojiro rubs his neck.
“. . . I didn’t expect you to be so genuinely into it. . . guess I just figured you were doing this to push me out of my comfort zone whether it actually looked good on me or not. . .”
“What-” Kaoru asks, sounding upset at the implications of him lying, until he sees Kojiro's expression.
“. . .” Kaoru swallows, trying to keep his composure, but his eyes travel over Kojiro’s face and take many, many pauses, clearly opting for a scenic route.
“. . .” He sighs before continuing, “. . . I just want you to be happy with it. . . but, I knew it would look good on you too. . .” He mutters softly, yet matter-of-fact.
Kojiro smirks at hearing Kaoru confess he looks attractive, cupping Kaoru's face with a flirtatious look. Yet, slowly, his look starts to soften, into something Kaoru hardly ever saw from him: Shy. Not bashful, or overwhelmed, but shy.
“. . .” Kojiro takes a long, long pause, as skepticism comes washing back over his features. His gaze goes to the floor. “. . . So you really. . . . . . You really think this doesn’t look bad. . . ?” He says, so quietly, as though if he asks too loud or bold, Kaoru will somehow change his mind, say it was all a joke. Kaoru’s brows furrow.
“Yes. . . Of course. . .” Kaoru says, mirroring Kojiro's gesture to cup his face. “You’re beautiful. . .” He whispers.
Kojiro blushes harder. He doesn’t fully leave Kaoru’s grasp, but he pulls back, and Kaoru lets him. Eventually, Kojiro finds the heart to look up at him, eyes confused, and perhaps somewhere deeper, grateful.
“. . . . . . . . Do you . . . want to try the outfit on yet. . . . .?” Kaoru whispers encouragingly.
Slowly, feeling a new sense of trust, Kojiro nods, which earns him a soft smooch on the cheek. Kaoru gets up, using a makeup wipe to clear away stray spots of product from his hands as he walks to the door.
“. . . .” He pauses, turning back to face Kojiro once more. “. . . I could. . . stay and help, if you want. . .” He assures. Kojiro smiles, shaking his head, feeling his nerves fade for the moment.
“. . . Thanks, I think I got it now. . .” Kaoru smiles, leaving him to face the pile on the bed.
Kojiro approaches it, and what looked so daunting only moments prior. . . actually looks pretty doable. It’s nice and simple, more his 'chill vibes' style, not Kaoru’s, and the thoughtfulness of that leaves him beaming. There’s a maroon colored sweater, large and thick, and next to it rests a medium length black skirt. . .
He starts with the sweater, and he didn’t realize just how unprepared he was for the chance that all of this could be pleasant. He figured he knew exactly what would happen, he’d throw on an outfit, some makeup, take one look in the mirror and cringe at himself. Then all of his questions would finally be answered. He was so focused on that outcome, when the process itself was turning out to be more of a journey, and coming with many curveballs.
The first surprise besides the eyeshadow, was the sweater. It was thick, a thick enough material to conceal a lot of the sharper dips in his muscles, even the biceps that were definitely creating hills under the fabric. Still, they looked so soft now. However, the top of the sleeves were a bit too loose, they seemed bigger than they should be, and that’s when he realized-- oh! It’s meant to be lopsided. He pulls one side down, revealing the black sun tattoo that adorns his shoulder. When worn like this, it fits perfectly.
He almost gets disappointed looking closer at the bunched up fabric around his wrists, seeing a hole in one side, until he sees a hole in the other sleeve as well, same size, same position. . . Maybe this is on purpose too then? He threads his thumbs through the holes, pulling the fabric taut over his palms, revealing that yes, it must be manufactured this way. It’s cute.
. . . Wait, what? He’s supposed to look ‘hot’, now he looks cute? . . . Since when is that allowed?
He replaces pants with a skirt, and instantly shivers from the unfamiliar draft he feels below. At least Kaoru seems to have included knee high socks for him. How on earth did he find all of this in his size? The dark fabric slides over his calf muscles with little resistance, and makes him feel just a bit less naked under the skirt, but it’s still . . . naked. Perhaps ‘vulnerable’ is the word he's looking for.
He runs his hands over the pleats, straightening them out and making sure the skirt rides low enough over his legs, and the way it feels under his hands. . . his hands decorated with black, with a soft cozy sweater overlapping his palms. . . Though much more bold than he anticipated, this was close to how he wanted to look, this is what he imagined, Kaoru was listening to what Kojiro said. And he felt good about it. He looked good.
. . . But that’s just from the angle he’s seeing. He’s still convinced that with one look in the mirror, the illusion will break. Though, just to make sure, he turns to see his reflection-
Kojiro sits back on the bed, or a better word might be collapses, as he takes in the situation before him. Ok, all these questions he’s ignored inside himself for months, years now, are being answered, but it’s not the answer he had expected. He still looks good. Feels great. And, realistically, he might not 100% be a guy.
He might not 100% be a guy.
His heart rate suddenly picks up. Wait. What? He almost feels like laughing, if a subtle panic wasn’t slowly taking him over instead. . . . What the hell is he then?
Kojiro goes to bury his head in his hands, but in a moment of distress, forgets the soft sweater and black paint over his eyes, instantly regretting their collision.
“Fuck. . .” Kojiro tries in vain to wipe the black smudges away from the sleeves, and only grows more frustrated and overwhelmed as they barely lift, spreading farther.
“Fuck!” He exclaims, before sliding down the side of the bed to the floor. God, why was he being so dramatic? Why was this freaking him out so bad? It wasn’t a bad thing, right? I mean, he had no qualms when Kaoru came out as genderfluid, so why is he so upset that he might not be cis?
He accidentally catches another glance in the mirror and groans, turning away from it entirely. That’s the problem, he realizes, he’s okay with the reflection, but . . . that's not a promise everyone else would be. Kaoru gets away with it, but can he? Would anyone else take it seriously, or is he gonna be doomed now to only ever looking at this side of himself in a mirror, in his room, all alone?
- Knock knock! -
. . . There. That’s what he needed. Guidance, experience, Kaoru.
Kojiro throws the door open, Kaoru’s eyes widening in surprise as he’s yanked into the bedroom, before he frantically slams it, acting as though someone is after him.
“. . . Are you okay?” Kaoru asks, the confusion evident in his tone.
“. . .” Kojiro turns to him, and he wouldn’t have to say anything else, Kaoru sees the fear in his eyes.
He knows that brand of fear far too well. He easily recognizes it as the fear of finding yourself.
Kaoru had sought himself out since childhood, he was always curious and craved answers, so he discovered his identity fairly early. But . . . a lot of people, people like Kojiro, they might find themselves by accident, after spending years actually trying to avoid the interaction. They blindly stumble across their true self in the dark, and maybe don’t even recognize who it is at first. . . And then they have to learn how to love themselves again. They have to love someone who feels like a stranger. It’s scary, and it has every right to be.
Instinctively, slender arms wrap around Kojiro’s shoulders, pulling him in.
“Hey. . . It’s okay. . .” Kaoru soothes him. He can feel Kojiro’s pulse racing, a slight tremor to his frame even as he tries to laugh it off.
“. . . I'm fine, I just. . . I don't know how I feel about it and I. . . Goddd, What the hell is wrong with me. . .” Kojiro chuckles out, but there’s a sharp anger in his voice. Clearly not at Kaoru. Not even at himself. Just angry. Confused. Frustrated, that for so long, he had everything figured out, all his life he was the hot guy, and his curiosity was something he could bear to contain, but now there’s a huge wrench in his plans all because of something as simple as a thumbhole sweater.
“I’m sorry. . .” Kaoru mutters. He feels a sense of responsibility for thrusting him into this so quickly, he could’ve just thrown some eyeliner on like Kojiro wanted. But this side of Kojiro just wasn’t a stranger to Kaoru the way it was to himself, not at all. Kaoru had long standing theories that at least some of Kojiro's obsession with baring his body was just a form of self convincing, a way to suppress his own ideas with the constant reminder of what he feels he has to be. And beyond that, Kaoru had always seen the glint in Kojiro's eyes when he wore something bold like this, and it wasn’t just love, lust, pride, there was a touch of envy too. A yearning to be that free.
Kaoru wanted him to feel the same euphoria he felt when he discovered this, but after all these years, he had forgotten about the long road to acceptance and the many stages of grief one often has to go through first to reach it.
“. . . . Don’t apologize. . .” Kojiro replies, still nervous, but definitely sure he doesn’t want Kaoru to take on guilt over his complex feelings. Or worse, he didn’t want his own self conscious identity spiral to somehow rub off onto Kaoru’s relationship with his own identity. Well, at least they could be in this together, He thinks.
Next thing Kojiro knows, he’s wrapping his arms around the other, relishing in their embrace. Kaoru closes his eyes. God, Kojiro’s arms are so soft in this sweater. . . Wait a second-
Kaoru continues to nuzzle, but tugs a bit on the sleeve behind his neck. “What’d you do?” He asks, referring to the black smudges dancing along the outside cuff over the palms. His voice comes out softly, and not accusatory, simply out of care.
Kojiro pouts, maybe for comical purposes, maybe with a tad bit of real mourning for the way he fucked up a brand new outfit Kaoru had bought him. “I forgot I had makeup onnn.” He whines before chuckling.
Kaoru smirks knowingly. “Ah. . . . . . Well, been there, done that. . .” He laughs as well. Kojiro smiles, already feeling some of his nerves melting away again.
“. . . . . . . . . . . . . . So. ” Tears slowly begin to mist in his eyes. “. . . Does it get easier?” He finally asks, voicing the one remaining question he’s still been dreading.
Kaoru’s smile softens, to something serious and genuine. And he answers Kojiro appropriately.
“. . . . . . . Yeah, super easy. . . First I’d recommend setting spray.”
Kojiro stares, silent in his confusion.
“You could also use some makeup remover to lift it. . . Or you could just throw the whole thing in the washer on a heavy cycle of cours-”
“Are you making dad jokes right now???” Kojiro finally inquires, an excited overtone to his words. Because Kaoru knows damn well his question about things ‘getting easier’ was referring to the transgender experience, and not learning how to keep his makeup from transferring.
. . . But it worked. Kaoru smiles, nice and bright, and after a moment, they both break, laughing to the point of breathlessness.
“You’re an asshole.” Kojiro chuckles out.
“I know. . . and I’m also a bitch.” He laughs.
Kojiro laughs again. “Oh, because you’re genderfluid?”
“Yep. New pronouns. . . Asshole slash bitch.”
Kojiro rolls his eyes, despite the belly laugh he’s still giving it.
“So what are my pronouns then, ‘stupid slash gorilla’?”
“They can be whatever you want.” Kaoru replies, before flashing his cheekiest smile. “Gorilla.”
Kojiro’s smile ever so slowly fades, Kaoru’s heartstrings plucking away as the lighthearted expression is being replaced with self doubt once again. It wouldn't be a linear uphill journey to acceptance, Kaoru knew that much from the beginning, but it still hurt to see his lover's internal struggle.
For some reason, even as he smiles ironically, the tears that misted come back to Kojiro, until one rolls down his cheek, dragging just a tint of black with it. “. . . And . . . what if I don’t know yet. . . ?” He asks. His voice doesn’t break, though it’s filled with cracks.
Kaoru wipes the stray drop away, before stroking Kojiro’s face tenderly. Though it takes a moment of effort to steady himself, he replies soft, feeling his own eyes start to glisten and overflow with many sympathies.
“. . . Ah. . . dear principessa, don’t worry. . . you have all the time in the world. . .”
That one stops Kojiro in his tracks.
And after a moment, despite his best efforts to stop being emotional and avoid ruining the makeup Kaoru just put on him, the black is running down his cheeks.
“. . . Your italian is terrible.” He sniffs, nuzzling at Kaoru with a smile.
“I know.” Kaoru smirks, cradling him back.
After a moment of comfort, he finally pulls away. Kaoru hands him a tissue before he can ruin his sweater any further and- god, he sees himself in the mirror again.
. . . But this time, he laughs.
“What?” Kaoru asks, unable to hide the smile that he adorns when he sees his partner is happy and comfortable again for the time being.
“Ohhh my god. I look like a bride who got stood up at the alter.” He replies, laughing as he pulls at his stained cheeks.
“. . . Like you just saw the beginning of Up for the first time.” Kaoru adds.
Kojiro laughs again, attempting now wipe the black away, but only smudging it far worse.
“. . . Well.” He says, voice still a bit croaky. “Good thing you did a smokey eye, I guess.”
Kaoru chuckles.
“Yes, and hey, it does suit you, doesn’t it. . .” Kaoru says, leaning in closer to stare at Kojiro's reflection from right beside him.
Kojiro takes a deep breath, before turning to face Kaoru again.
“. . . . . . . Yeah. It does.”