Chapter Text
Yosuke Hanamura, a second-year, was not the smartest one around. Everyone knew it; he knew it better than anyone. Still, sometimes he managed to surprise even himself.
His latest fumble was the culture festival. He had thought he'd gotten the girls good by signing them up for the beauty pageant – they had gotten him right back by signing him and the rest of the guys for a surprise cross-dressing pageant.
It was unfair. It was more than unfair. At least the girls' pageant was legit instead of being an excuse to laugh at people. Gritting his teeth, Yosuke knew he had to put some effort into the whole thing. Perhaps people would laugh less if he was a pretty girl.
The worst thing, though, was that in his time of need he had no one else to turn to but Kanji. Kanji, who he had managed to piss off more times than was healthy for either of them, just because he was so stupid and Kanji was so goddamn sensitive when it came to… certain things.
Truthfully, it was because Yosuke was the sensitive one. Something about the whole gay thing made him uncomfortable, though he couldn't put his finger on what that something was. His knee-jerk reactions to this discomfort made him say the darndest things.
With the pageant right around the corner, he'd gone through and dismissed all his other options. Souji was busy… whatever it was Souji was usually busy with. There were the girls, but Yosuke dreaded the length of skirt he imagined they would dress him up in. Teddie was no help on his own – the bear had also used Kanji's sewing services for an appearance he wasn't even required to make.
That pretty much summed up the people who presently tolerated Yosuke Hanamura.
So, the day before the damn thing, he found himself standing in the middle of Kanji's room with the other guy kneeling behind him.
He was very, very uncomfortable.
"You should be thankful school uniforms never go out of style," Kanji muttered through the pins between his teeth. "Too bad your ass is too skinny for your mother's old clothes."
"Don't talk about my ass, man!" Yosuke protested, voice breaking like he was still thirteen. He shuddered, suddenly painfully aware of the goosebumps on his bare knees.
"Stop moving so much or I'mma shove this pin in it," Kanji grunted in response, having once again missed the fabric and pricked his finger instead.
"I-is that a metaphor for something?" Yosuke asked against his better judgement, counting on Kanji not knowing what a metaphor was. "Cause if it is, I'll– ow!"
"How's that for a metaphor, senpai?"
Kanji's voice was as sharp as his needles. Still, with a sigh, he stuck the last pin into its rightful place on the fabric instead of Yosuke's thigh.
He was forcing himself to be nice, and Yosuke knew it. There was no reason for Kanji to help the guy who caused him so much grief. Except that they were on the same team, and because Yosuke had the talent for looking annoyingly miserable: like a puppy-dog caught in the rain. Kanji hadn't had the heart to tell him off.
"There, that should do it," the younger boy said, putting the rest of the pins back in their little box. It was adorned with dancing bears and it was awfully cute.
Yosuke knew he deserved to be embarrassed, like having his skirt fall off on-stage. However, there was a limit to how much karmic punishment he could endure. Besides, he was well capable of making a joke of himself even without the odds stacked against him.
That made him even more thankful that Kanji helped him – swallowing his own discomfort to accommodate Yosuke and his acute fear of the gay.
He just hid it really well.
"Oh man, couldn't you have just made me a skirt without having to go through… all of this?" Yosuke gestured towards the skirt, the measuring tape and various other sewing paraphernalia.
"Or," Kanji grunted, "you could have just gone to Junes and picked out one all by yourself. Not like you're unfamiliar with the women's section, you creep."
Kanji said the last insult under his breath, like he didn't quite mean it.
"You mean the swimsuits?" Yosuke asked, backing up towards his pants crumpled lazily in the corner. "Yeah, well, they weren't for me, were they? No one would think they were." Then he stopped, squinted, and felt his ears turn very, very red. "I mean, no one would think they were for me, would they?" he repeated, his voice reaching a dangerously high pitch.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Kanji said, barely registering the worry in the other guy's question. "Just hurry up with the skirt – and try not to tear all the pins out. I don't have all night, I still got my own costume to work on."
Yosuke's grand plan had been to slip the pants underneath the skirt, then slide the hellish garment off. That way he would have retained most of his modesty, as in kept his ass out of sight.
"Ou-ogh," he yelped as he failed the plan by poking his finger on one of the numerous pins sticking upwards, dangerously close to his skin. Kanji glanced up at the noise; even though Yosuke knew it was on instinct, he instantly got defensive. "No peeking!"
"Wasn't gonna," Kanji said through his teeth and rolled his eyes.
At this point Yosuke found the zipper and fiddled it free from one of the pins. The skirt dropped to the floor – Yosuke kicked it towards the other boy like a soccer ball. Then he remained standing, shuffling in discomfort and not knowing how to proceed.
"You sure you're gonna get it done for tomorrow?" he asked, his tone intentionally quiet as to not antagonise his crafty saviour. Kanji sighed and stretched himself out until his toes touched the opposite wall of his tiny room.
"Do I really got a choice?" he asked. "I should just get to work if I wanna get any sleep tonight."
Yosuke winced. He got the hint.
"Oh… oh yeah, sure. I guess I'll be going then. Don't wanna get in your way," he blabbered. "I just need… my stuff…"
Clumsily, he hopped over the other boy's legs to get to his bag, resting on a work table cluttered with tiny plushies in tiny clothes, yarn, and heavy-duty sewing equipment. Everything in the room was cute, even the bulky sewing machine. Everything… except Kanji himself.
Although there was a small part in Yosuke's mind that could admit that even Kanji could be kind of cute sometimes, especially when he really got into something. If Yosuke hadn't been so insecure he would have said that out loud. Instead, he just picked up his stuff and hopped back to the door.
There was an awkward little silence. Yosuke felt his usual cheerful expression drop as he tried to find the right thing to say.
He knew what the right thing was. He just found it hard to say.
Still, he had to – he owed Kanji that much. What he didn't owe was looking the guy in the eyes as he did it, so he decided to stare at the small TV huddled in the corner..
"So, uh, thanks," Yosuke finally uttered. "I guess," he added, ruining the whole thing right away. He tried to course-correct again: "Yeah, no, thanks. For helping me out."
"Don't mention it, dude."
Through the reflection of the television, Yosuke could see Kanji crack half an exasperated smile. That seemed good enough.
"Yeah," Yosuke said, stuck on the word, then backed out of the door. "See you tomorrow."
As he turned to leave, he saw Kanji slide further down onto the floor, having to bend at the knees to do so. It was going to be a long night for at least one of them. Kanji was the kind of person who just had to help his friends – and Yosuke was genuinely thankful for that.
Sure, they weren't the best of friends. But they were better friends than either of them had had before.