ID // KOTETSU T. KABURAGI: VALENTINE
he fiddles with his tie absentmindedly with his empty hand after ringing the bell.
he’s somehow managed to keep all his preparations a secret for the past few days,
making barnaby promise to let him surprise him for valentine’s day.
they’ll stay at his place tonight, but step number one is to pick barnaby up from
his own apartment.
before the door opens, he practices a smile, hefts the bouquet in his hand.
the salesperson at the flower shop helped him put it together:
deep red carnations for love,
surrounded by white camellias –
he had laughed when she told him they meant waiting,
and he figures they did plenty of that, after all
– and lush green leaves the color of his own suit,
all held together neatly with a bow, expertly knotted by that same girl.
He himself is equally put together
(though he needed no one’s help to tie his own bow).
all things considered, he’s a bit nervous as he waits for barnaby to open the door.
he really wants to make sure this evening goes smoothly,
that his penchant for mishaps doesn’t put a hitch in his careful plans.
a RING of his doorbell breaks the surface of his stream of consciousness, yanking him to the surface and he sucks in a breath. he’d been busy thinking over every possible outcome; a desperate attempt to be SOMEWHAT PREPARED for the night he’d thought about a thousand times. his bumbling, oblivious partner finally knows what he feels---everything is on the table, now; and though they’ve spent what feels like half a lifetime of evenings together, this new context is enough to rattle his nerves. crossing his apartment in long strides, he pauses by the door---
( it’d be embarrassing if kotetsu finally noticed the way the sight of him knocks the wind from his lungs. better sneak a look at him through the peephole first. so he knows what he’s dealing with. )
joy spreads over his whole body, warm and THICK and s l o w over the surface of his skin like syrup sliding down a hot waffle. there’s his partner, trying (and failing) to figure out how to smile without looking too doofy. he’s showed up with flowers and something else he can’t quite make out in the distorted, fishbowl-esque view. barnaby clasps a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud as he watches him adjust his stance and his expression multiple times.
how cute. he’s so cute. what business does an
old man like him have being so cute all the time?
he can’t stand here staring forever, though. so he takes a step back and tugs the door open smoothly, a cool smile on his face like he’s not completely awestruck at the sight of his partner dressed up and holding flowers and gifts NO, NOT AT ALL.
❝Wow. Looks like you went all out.❞ A beat. ❝You look incredible.❞
he’s trying his best to be honest about his feelings---the last thing he wants to do is to ruin this by holding back and covering his WARM, LOVING FEELINGS with teasing barbs at every turn the way he usually does.
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