Giyuu in drag thoughts consume me SabiGiyuu nation can anybody hear me
Sabito has always called him pretty, mostly as a joke, Giyuu thought. He’d take a hit on the chin during a mission and while chiding him Sabito would tell him he needed to be more careful of his face, since he was the pretty one. He’d notice Sabito’s gaze lingering on him just a moment to long as he wrung his soaked hair out, sitting on the rim of an onsen.
So naturally now nearing Hashira, just barely having recently become men, when asked to investigate a demon in the red light district, Giyuu had been the one to draw the short straw and pose undercover as a courtesan, while Sabito took the role of a customer.
Sabito returns from scouting the mission to find a stranger kneeling in front of a mirror, wrapped in rich fabrics, face pale as the moon, adjusting an elaborate hairpin in her raven dark hair…She was a stranger and yet, impossibly, unmistakably Giyuu. Sabito had initially been speechless.
Giyuu questions why he’s staring at him like that when this was his idea in the first place. Sabito plugs his brain back into his mouth and mutters something about his lips looking a little too pale, but he nearly loses his balance when Giyuu nods and hands him a tube of lip stain.
Neither points out that Sabito’s hand is shaking a little when he takes Giyuu by the chin to paint the lipstick on, though both notice it. Christ, had Giyuu’s lips always been this pink? His jaw so pointed, his neck so pale and thin?
Giyuu stares into Sabito’s eyes while Sabito’s focus is stolen by his task, by his lips…had Sabito’s gaze always been so….hungry?
And Giyuu sighs when he’s finished—and Sabito grips onto his own trouser legs with white knuckles—and looks at himself in the mirror and isn’t actually all that annoyed at it. He does make a pretty good courtesan.
He asks Sabito what he thinks and Sabito is so fucking hard he can’t even see straight
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