Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit

[wieczny]

Time: Around Present Day-ish
Place: Lithuania's house in Vilnius
Characters: Poland and Lithuania
Rating: F for fluff~

Okay, so... maybe taking that bet with Francis totally wasn't his best idea.

I mean, how was he supposed to know that like, Francis was a cheating cheater? The odds were against him from the start and there wasn't any way he could win. But it's not like he knew that, or else he would have never agreed to play cards in the first place!

But Feliks is, if nothing else, a man of his word. It's not like he regularly changes his mind on important issues or makes up rules to games or anything!

And it's not like his punishment was bad. He just had to wear a suit to the International Ball and be a gentleman. I mean, how hard is that?

Or so he thought until he went home and found he didn't own a single tux. Now, contrary to popular belief, Feliks is male. He just doesn't judge the gender of the clothes he wears. If Hungary can wear pants, then he can wear a dress. If it looks good on him, then what's the problem? That's right - nothing. Or, rather, his problem is the lack of suits in his wardrobe.

And so he and Hungary went shopping and found the perfect outfit. Black shoes, black pants, black suit jacket that he leaves unbuttoned to reveal the gray vest underneath. Add it together with a white button up shirt, a green tie that matches his eyes and, to finish it off, a fedora on top of his head.

It might not be the clothes he's used to wearing, but he's not ashamed to admit he looks good in a suit.

And so the day of the Ball comes and he shows up at Toris' house because like, who else is he going to ask to go with him? He rings the door bell and leans against the door frame, waiting for Toris to open the door. He tugs briefly at his sleeves. He's worn suits before, but they're so stuffy and stiff that he never wears them for long. But he like, said he would and stuff, so he is.

He pushes the brim of his hat back with an index finger and straightens up as Toris opens the door. If he's going to be a gentleman, he might as well start now, right?

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[iron_wolf]

Toris was in the bathroom straightening his tie when he heard the knock on the door. Of course, there was really no wondering who that could be. He knew. And he dreaded it; oh how he dreaded it. What nightmare of women's fashion would Feliks be sporting tonight?

Did he mention that he really dreads going to find out? He honestly doesn't understand why his best friend chooses to cross dress. Sure they wore things that were very much akin to dresses many, many years ago, but... those days are far behind and men wear pants now. And manly clothing. Not dresses. Yet there was Feliks, dressing like a woman (And... admittedly, looking disturbingly good), getting mistaken as a woman and acting like he doesn't have a care in the world.

He just... doesn't understand this. At all! Feliks could explain it to him again and again and he still wouldn't understand. But whatever the case, it's time to brace himself.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he approaches the door slowly, donned in his own pressed, spotless black suit with a dark blue vest and tie. His hair is neatly tied back into a ponytail with the same color blue ribbon. As he reaches for the doorknob, he's still bracing himself and all the while he's bracing himself, hoping that Feliks won't want to go back to his house and change so that they match.

Because it's happened before. Hence they were late to the last ball.

Sigh.

Eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut for a couple of seconds, he opens them again at the same time he pulls the door open and...

...And. And-and-and?! What is this?!

"F-Feliks?" He has to ask. Because that rather handsome young man who stands before him in a well-put-together suit (the hat is a very nice touch, by the way) simply can not be his best friend.

[wieczny]

Feliks wears dresses because he looks good in them. That's really the only explanation there is. And it's not like he wears female clothes all the time. Feliks is just very aware of what looks good on him and like, some of that just happens to woman's clothing. What he doesn't understand is why Toris is making such a big deal out of it.

But balls are times where you get to show off how good you look. And he looks best in dresses and stuff. So that's what he wears. It's not like, rocket science or anything. But not this time. This time he's in a suit and a vest and a hat and maybe, if he was pressed, he would admit that the suit looks just as good as the dress he'd been planning on wearing when the ball was announced.

And it was like, totally a good thing he didn't because the blues that Toris is wearing wouldn't have matched his dress at all. And if they were going to go to a ball together, like, as a couple, they had to match. But a black suit matches a black suit, so it's like, whatever.

Toris opens the door and immediately his eyes go wide and for a second Feliks thinks he has something on his face. He didn't put on that much make-up tonight because he was supposed to be like, a gentleman and someone decided that gentlemen aren't supposed to wear make-up.

But then Toris says his name, like he's baffled and he raises an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Like, who else would it be?" Liet had to know he was going to be here, right? It's not like they go to balls with anyone else.

[iron_wolf]

Excuse me, but Toris has every reason in the world to be baffled! Do you even stop to really look at the things you wear half the time, Lady Gaga?

That aside; Toris laughs a little. And by a little, I mean nervously with one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. His cheeks are even a turning a light shade of pink. Yeah. A real winner, this guy. But seriously wow! Feliks looks positively amazing in a suit!

"O-oh, well... No one. But I... I just thought..." Thought that you were going to show up in some really flashy cocktail dress that would turn the head of every male (and possibly some females) at the ball. He shakes his head and dismisses his first statement, deciding not to finish it. "... Y-you look... really nice," he says at last. But then, promptly realizes how that must have sounded and holds up his hands defensively.

"I...I mean, N-not that you don't always look nice. I-It's just.. a really nice suit! It... looks good on you." Yeah. He's... going to shut up now since he can't quite seem to stop stammering. Note how much redder his cheeks are at this point and how terribly awkward he's made everything. It's the kind of near-tangible awkward that one would even have trouble cutting through with a knife.

Again. A real winner, this guy.

[wieczny]

Speaking of real winners, look at Feliks.

His face flushes red - his ears are turning a bit pink as well, if you could see them under his hat and under his hair - and he ducks his head down, eyes focused on his shoes. They're very nice shoes. Black.

(He'd had to go out and buy dress shoes as well. He had black dress shoes, of course he did, but they were kind of decades old and well. Fashion had updated since then.)

Toris' shoes were really nice too, since his gaze was down and he had a chance to admire them.

The fedora on his head slips forward a couple of inches, covering his eyes. And he's really kind of okay with that because wow. Toris doesn't exactly give him a lot of compliments of his own free will. Usually when Feliks wants a compliment he has to press Toris for one. Because, girl outfits or not, he puts a lot of time into his appearance and he likes behind told he looks nice.

And usually the compliments Toris gives him are kind of half-hearted. Oh, uh, yeah, Feliks, you look... great? It's appeasement, he knows it is, but he's usually fine with it because like, since when has he been high maintenance?

But honest-to-God compliments are different. Especially tonight, when Feliks didn't put as much effort into how he looks as he usually does, and he's only doing this because he lost some stupid bet to Francis. There's a sincerity to Toris' eyes that he's not used to seeing, and he doesn't know how to react to it.

And so he ducks his head and hides behind his hat and doesn't say anything because somewhere along the line of compliments, his brain stopped working, and his attempts to rev it back into gear simply aren't working at all.

[iron_wolf]

So, uh. Yeah. Great job, Toris. You just made your best friend act shy in front of you of all people; and is he blushing? Yeah. I think he is. Maybe you should think about paying him a few more genuine compliments so it isn't such a shock. Though, with that in mind, Toris does begin to think back on how many times he actually has complimented Feliks in the past.

So... How many times? Not too many that he can remember. That's... probably something that needs to change. He compliments Natalia all the time; Alfred too. And Elizaveta whenever he sees her. Heck, he seems to compliment a lot of people more than he compliments the one person he's closest to. That actually makes him feel pretty bad.

But! Change has to start somewhere and he can certainly make up for that a little bit tonight. Just maybe not lay it on quite so thick. There's no need to make Feliks feel uncomfortable around him or make him blush any more than he is already. Even if it is kind of cute. Incredibly cute.

Feliks really is cute. Something he comes to realize when he's not being flamboyant and loud. But even then, he's still cute. It's just hard to see sometimes when he's acting crazy.

With a small smile, he steps outside and closes the door behind him, deciding against saying anything regarding Feliks' sudden bout of shyness. He's already made things stiflingly awkward. Heck, he's still blushing a little himself.

"Uhm... We should probably get going or we'll be late." Like last time. And they would be late this time as well if they continue to stand there being awkward for much longer.

[wieczny]

Feliks looks up to find an eyefull of hat. And while the darkness of the inside of his hat was comforting, it didn't really do him any favors for, you know, seeing. Slowly, he pushes back the brim of his hat with his index finger until the world, but more importantly, Toris, comes back into view.

Toris is still blushing, which is good because Feliks is still blushing as well. Not as much as he was before, but still fairly obviously. He looks at Toris for a second, shyly, before smiling. The smile slowly turns into a grin, and the wider his grin grows, the more his confidence grows as well. It doesn't take long until he's standing up straight, head held high, the fading blush the only sign of his shyness attack.

"Yeah, right, totally." They weren't going to be late like Toris thinks they are. After all, there's a difference between early, right on time, fashionably late and actually late. Toris seems to have combined the last too, but it's totally fine because like, Feliks knows the difference. If he'd gone back to change dresses, then they might have been pushing the boundary between fashionably late and actually late, but they like, totally wouldn't be actually late if they left now.

Automatically, Feliks goes to grab Toris' arm. It's how they do things. Feliks is shorter by a few centimeters and dresses like a girl so it like, totally makes sense for them to walk that way. But this time, he stops, mid-motion and, a bit awkwardly, he must admit, offers Toris his own arm. It's strange, but like, he's supposed to be a gentleman. And that's what gentlemen do. If he's gonna do this, he's going to go the whole mile. No one says Feliks does anything half way.

[iron_wolf]

No. Late is late is late! There is no fashionably late; that shouldn't even be an excuse! It's a horrible, lame excuse and it never really works! If you're so set on looking your best, then start early and plan ahead so that you can be fashionable and on time! Would that not be far better than showing up late and blaming it all on the fact that you spent way too much extra time getting ready? That's awfully vain! Who would honestly care so little about the people who are expecting you to be on time just to get ready?

Clearly, Toris doesn't have quite the same mindset as Feliks when it comes to things like this. There is a set time for a reason and being punctual shouldn't be a option. It's a common courtesy. Come on!

That aside, he's grateful that they're leaving for the ball now instead of two hours later. However, he cannot hide just how confused he is when Feliks offers him he arm. He blinks a couple of times, his blush deepening a bit. Is he... really expecting him to take it? Really?

His confused expression soon turns incredulous and instead of taking Feliks' arm, he shakes his head, grabs a hold of his hand and starts walking, pulling Feliks along. Just when things had gotten a little less awkward...

"Come on," he breathes, sounding slightly annoyed. He isn't--not really. He's just confused. What's Feliks up to anyway? He should probably ask, but he's not entirely sure how. Would it sound bad if he asked? Whether it did or didn't, he's going to want some answers eventually.