Work Text:
‘I’m telling you it’ll be better if you wear the skirt!’ Oga yells, shaking the fabric pointedly. Furuichi crosses his arms instead of taking it and glares back.
‘So you do think it sucks!’ he accuses and watches with a little bit of satisfaction as Oga squirms and bristles, stretching for the right words to convey his thoughts.
’I didn’t say that!’ is what he lands on, throwing up his hands in his frustration and getting the ‘skirt’ fabric caught on his head as it floats back down seperate from his limbs. It’s a wrap really, barely even to be considered that and only considered so because that’s what they were using it for. The fabric was the cheapest cut of the cheapest cloth they could afford so close to the audition and they’d only done so on Oga’s insistence.
‘Then what?’
‘I just think whatever rich bastards show up are gonna be tricked out in some proper fancy dance shit, you shouldn’t have to do it in your uniform plus-’ he hesitates, scratches the back of his head and meets Furuichi’s gaze, ‘I think it’d look nice… Pretty and fluttery you know? Like that video you showed me.’
Furuichi’s body slacks, surprised Oga’d remembered it given he’d only half woken up that night and been asleep not a minute after it’d finished, forehead plopping onto Furuichi’s shoulder. He holds out his hand and Oga perks up and shakes out the fabric before handing it over so Furuichi can wrap his waist like they’d researched. The ’skirt’ falls layered, folded once over itself and while it does encircle him wholly as he moves about the slit in the side becomes obvious.
He plays about at first, swishing his hips to make the fabric flare. Getting used to the feel of it, how it catches on his pants and is pushed by the soft wind. Then he steps into his routine, slowly where he could, seeing how it flows. Gradually he gains confidence and under the appreciative eyes of Oga moves on to a more complicated sequence, one he hasn’t practised outside of the studio they break into after hours.
He takes a small running start towards the bench, his last step bending out his knee just so that he’s off balance and unable to land solidly, instead forced to leap again with the hopes of saving his landing jumping off the bench rather than slipping from it.
Oga’s there before he has time to worry, arms open and wrapping tightly about him. He stumbles back a few steps but they don’t fall. Furuichi supporting himself with his hands on Oga’s shoulders. He looks down at him, heart racing from the adrenaline. Oga looks back just as wired for different reasons. Furuichi smiles at him. Unaware of the breeze ruffling his hair or the shine of sunlight haloing his head.
Oga releases his body just enough to let him slide down to his feet forcing him to tilt his head up a tiny bit to keep eye contact. The bastard had the audacity to grow 4 centimeters taller than him. He’s looking at him like he wants to devour him, then he reacts to a sound barely heard behind them. A simple tilt of his head drawing his eyes, his lips, away from his own.
There’s a quick glance back to him, one where he’s so close he can read the whipser of ‘soon’ on his lips. Then Oga and his warmth are gone and the door to the roof squeals open to let the new MK5 out into the light… even if there’s only 4 of them.