Work Text:
"You want me to... what?"
Draken looked at him from head to toe, and Mitsuya was never one to feel self-conscious about himself, but it felt like Draken was overanalyzing him somehow. Like Draken was trying to see through him right now.
"I said, why don't you wear that suit for yourself?" Draken took the suit from the mannequin and stretch it out as if he was imagining how the suit would fit Mitsuya.
It had been hours since Draken decided to swing by and insisted that he wouldn't bother Mitsuya until he was done with his work. He usually kept his words, but this time Draken seemed persistently becoming the exact bother that Mitsuya didn't need at the verge of deadline.
He'd like to think he had boundless patience and Draken was one of the few people who rarely tested against it, but he wasn't sure anymore.
Started with various harmless commentary, Mitsuya had failed to see the beginning of the alluring distraction.
And by that, it meant Mitsuya dumped everything on Draken with Draken genuinely respond.
The suit he had been working at, could attest to that.
"It's not for me to wear," Mitsuya frowned. "You know, Takemichi commissioned me to make that."
Draken merely shrugged.
"Well, in order to see whether the suit will work or not, someone's gotta try it out, right? This is clearly not my size, but it seems like it'll fit you."
Mitsuya sighed, Draken was right though. He had been designing the suit for a while, but it still didn't sit right with him. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He just needed to find out what's to fix.
"Fine," he proceeded to take his sweater off. "Maybe you're right."
Draken grinned.
Mitsuya only wanted the suit to be the bestest. But the thing about being a perfectionist, you cannot tolerate a single tiny mistake. Even if Draken had seen his creations and told him, that it was perfect, Mitsuya couldn't just accept the praise.
Something was gonna need some fixing.
He just had to step back and not stand too close to see it. Once, Draken told him, that he was too paranoid. He's always thinking there's something wrong with his design, like, this doesn't fit, that doesn't look nice, etc, but that's only because he had been working on them for so long.
Even if there was a grain of truth in those words, Mitsuya refused to ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing at him, whenever he designed something.
"Do you see, what's wrong?"
Draken popped his head on Mitsuya's shoulder, when he tried to see the outfit from every angle through the mirror.
Mitsuya huffed when he spotted several uneven stitches.
See, his worry was not without reasons.
"Yeah, I guess, I need to fix it here and there," Mitsuya spun himself, making sure he missed nothing else. He caught Draken's amused smile on the corner of his eyes, but he chose to ignore it. "But overall, this is good. Just need a little tweak."
Draken looked at him from head to toe, and Mitsuya was never one to feel self-conscious about himself, but it felt like Draken was overanalyzing him somehow. Like Draken was trying to see through him right now.
Mitsuya was anxious for what words to come out, but Draken eventually settled for a reassuring smile.
"You look great to me."
The lack of flirtation despite the amusement indicated that he was honest. But it was also Draken. He could probably see Mitsuya picking up a potato sack and claiming it to be his design, and he would probably said, it was great.
"That's because you're biased," Mitsuya sighed. "You always tell me the same thing, whenever I try on any outfit."
Draken frowned, as if he was genuinely offended at Mitsuya's words.
"Because you are already perfect," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not my fault that I see you that way."
It had been years, decades even, and yet, whenever Draken told him things like that, Mitsuya still couldn't control the state of his heart. Almost ridiculous, how he felt like turning back in time where Draken praised him in the quiet of Home-Ec club room. How he couldn't handle the blush dusting his cheeks, how suddenly he didn't know where to look, how Draken's words managed to render him speechless.
Draken was always an honest person, but sometimes Mitsuya thought, Draken was always way too honest when it came to him.
"Oh, please," Mitsuya masked the giddiness upon hearing Draken's words with an eye roll.
Draken didn't even seem bothered.
"I'm serious, it definitely looks awesome on you," Draken glanced over him once again, this time more intense, as if he wanted to catalogue Mitsuya's appearance mentally. And then, he had to sneakily add, "but, since this is for Takemichi, I doubt he could pull this off."
Despite the urge to laugh, Mitsuya admonished Draken.
"That's rude, it's my client you're talking about."
"Well, then, maybe you're right," he said, this time with an exaggerated husky voice. "I'm biased."
Mitsuya rolled his eyes, with even more exaggeration it got Draken snickered. He looked at his reflection once again, before pick up his chalk and mark the spots that would need some repairing.
Satisfied with the front and both sides, Mitsuya then proceeded to take off the suit and place it back on the mannequin, to check the backside.
Done the marking, Mitsuya was about to start fixing the suit, when Draken pulled him by his waist. Neglecting himself the lunches for several days, without Draken's knowledge of course, had taken its tolls on him.
"Ken—" he started, but Draken cut him off.
"I know Takemichi's suit fits you way too well," Draken was usually careful with touches, especially when he was at Mitsuya's atelier, but right now Mitsuya could feel the persistent pull around his waist. Someone was gonna be in trouble, and that would be him.
"I'm thinking of putting CCTV on your office, but I keep disregarding the idea because it's creepy and invasive as hell," he said in low voice, almost like a threat. "But knowing that it's important to monitor whether you skip a meal or not, maybe it's not an entirely bad idea."
Mitsuya patted the arms that curled around his middle. The gesture meant to be soothing and comforting, but he could still feel Draken's tension seeping out from the firm touches.
"I'll be better, I promise," Mitsuya said, attempting to escape from the confinement of Draken's arms. "Now if you'll let me go—"
They only tightened.
"Ken—" Mitsuya began. But Draken only responded with grunts against his shoulder, that Mitsuya didn't hesitate to chastise him. "I have work to do, Ken. Takemichi's suit won't fix itself if you won't let me go."
Draken easily lifted him up by his waist, getting Mitsuya shrieked in surprise.
"I, too, have work to do," Draken said, as he spun them around, towards the door—away from the work desk and the mannequin. "Takemichi's suit can wait. Now, I want you to fix yourself. Probably two or three plates. But considering the size, probably even more than that. I guess, meat would be the best choice. Or—"
Mitsuya blinked.
"Hold up. You want me to... what?"