Chapter Text
“Do I look okay?” Couri asks before they leave.
Which is a ridiculous question, because he always looks good. It’s not what he’s looking for though because he has make up on and is probably asking for like, eyeliner tidiness or something. Fein looks over him, faint purple eyeshadow, redder lips, pinker cheeks and hums. It comes out only a little choked, “Yeah, you’re good.”
Couri grins. He hops on over back to their dresser to put on his usual crown. Fein’s eyes drift downwards, to the flow of the skirt that sways in every movement Couri makes.
“You’re wearing a dress,” he notes, neutral and unassuming. They both know each other enough to know he means nothing by it, just simple observation. It’s a black piece, reaching to Couri’s knees and little purple ruffles at the base.
“Felt like it.” Couri adjusts his crown a bit more, then turns to Fein, “Do you like me in a dress?”
In the depths of his mind, a game has begun. A test, of sorts. It’s a thin needle of something humming in the air, but sucks for it, because Fein has an outing with friends he wants to enjoy and he’s shoving that shit down to deal with later.
“I mean, you wear it less often, so there’s a thing to it,” despite that, his throat seizes suddenly, “but like, I like you in anything. Vest or dress or makeup or no makeup.”
Couri stares at him for a moment before huffing a chuckle and looking away. Okay, fuck. Fuck. The world just ended. It’s okay for the world to end in how your best friend’s eyes drift off to the side and the red in his cheeks is suddenly not from the blush products. It’s okay. It’s so okay.
“Yeah, yeah, thanks for the glazing.” It’s in teasing and sarcasm but they both know it’s true. “You ready to head out?”
“Whenever you are, man.”