Adult Content Warning
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Summary
“Everything alright?”
Taki barely looks up from where he’s sprawled across the practice room bench, one arm slung over his head, his knee bouncing absently.
“Gucci,” he mutters.
Across from him, Nico sits cross-legged on the concrete floor, picking at a loose thread on black tank top. “You don’t sound gucci.”
Taki exhales sharply through his nose, eyes flickering toward the ceiling. The room is quiet except for the distant thump of a bassline bleeding through the walls from another studio.
A few heartbeats pass in companionable silence—just two guys marinating in their own Valentine’s Day misfortunes.
Nico shifts, arms stretching out at his sides, head tipping back.
Taki sighs, long and weary, like air slipping out of a deflated balloon.
“Actually, no.” He rubs a hand down his face. “Everything is not gucci.”
[in which Taki and Nico commiserate together on Valentine's Day]