Tidus isn't entirely dense, at least. The request surprises him initially, but only briefly, the times they get together less of a scheduled event as are an in-the-moment occurrence. But maybe Inigo's in the mood, and Tidus isn't unwilling, with most of his early day spent on middling swimming requests between him and Gibbs than anything strenuous.
Gibbs, who he lets go off to play with Rannygazoo and Jumblie either, since he and Inigo have some things to do, so uhh -- you guys go wherever.
Regardless, Tidus's own apprehensions are low. There's some nerves in him of possibly getting the wrong idea, but they're minimal at best; the thought of going back to their room and kissing turning easily into an appetising one, and he even eats a small dinner so he isn't so full when he gets back. That's what the arms band is for - to put his leftovers into, so he can eat his another day.
(Or just forget half a plate of curry in there.)
Suffice to say, Tidus came to their room with few expectations. Maybe the thought of Inigo waiting on the bed, shy-faced but playing it down, giving a quip about keeping him waiting. Or he's not even in there, and Tidus has picked a bad time, which, whatever - that's what magazines are for. Or Inigo's handheld console, since he doesn't play it, and Seto has his right now to make a gaming console.
None of this comes to be. Instead, as soon as Tidus starts into the room, he's dragged in quicker, the door closed and Tidus's brain and vision taking a moment to catch up. He blinks, and his eyes then widen when he spots the incredibly out of place sight of -- Inigo? Inigo, dressed up to the tens and beyond, and - is that make up? Is that a...crown?
Tidus stares incredulously, eyes fixing onto Inigo's when he calls him handsome; cheeks warming, and he'd almost forgotten how good Inigo looks in that outfit, but this is... ]
I... um...
[ He feels so underdressed. Should he do something? He searches for anything to say, but neither his mouth nor brain want to work.
Say something, say something! ('Why are you dressed this good for this? Is this a practice date you're trying on me?')
He swallows against a drying throat, and forcing the thought thing to come out-- ]
no subject
Tidus isn't entirely dense, at least. The request surprises him initially, but only briefly, the times they get together less of a scheduled event as are an in-the-moment occurrence. But maybe Inigo's in the mood, and Tidus isn't unwilling, with most of his early day spent on middling swimming requests between him and Gibbs than anything strenuous.
Gibbs, who he lets go off to play with Rannygazoo and Jumblie either, since he and Inigo have some things to do, so uhh -- you guys go wherever.
Regardless, Tidus's own apprehensions are low. There's some nerves in him of possibly getting the wrong idea, but they're minimal at best; the thought of going back to their room and kissing turning easily into an appetising one, and he even eats a small dinner so he isn't so full when he gets back. That's what the arms band is for - to put his leftovers into, so he can eat his another day.
(Or just forget half a plate of curry in there.)
Suffice to say, Tidus came to their room with few expectations. Maybe the thought of Inigo waiting on the bed, shy-faced but playing it down, giving a quip about keeping him waiting. Or he's not even in there, and Tidus has picked a bad time, which, whatever - that's what magazines are for. Or Inigo's handheld console, since he doesn't play it, and Seto has his right now to make a gaming console.
None of this comes to be. Instead, as soon as Tidus starts into the room, he's dragged in quicker, the door closed and Tidus's brain and vision taking a moment to catch up. He blinks, and his eyes then widen when he spots the incredibly out of place sight of -- Inigo? Inigo, dressed up to the tens and beyond, and - is that make up? Is that a...crown?
Tidus stares incredulously, eyes fixing onto Inigo's when he calls him handsome; cheeks warming, and he'd almost forgotten how good Inigo looks in that outfit, but this is... ]
I... um...
[ He feels so underdressed. Should he do something? He searches for anything to say, but neither his mouth nor brain want to work.
Say something, say something! ('Why are you dressed this good for this? Is this a practice date you're trying on me?')
He swallows against a drying throat, and forcing the thought thing to come out-- ]
Y-your make-up's...different!
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