Set post-GX with established Ryo/Fubuki.

Ryo scanned the clothing racks aimlessly and sighed. Other than dark denim jeans and black T-shirts, there was nothing here that he wanted to wear. He hated collared shirts, he thought vests were annoying, bright vests didn't suit him, and he thought khaki pants were just plain ugly. And no matter what Fubuki said, jewelry, no matter what kind, was for girls.

His pickiness been a problem in the past, as somehow he'd always managed to dress just right for whatever occasion while still keeping his dignity. Ryo had his grey suit for professional business, a few swim trunks, his blue and black plaid pajama pants for those lazy mornings when he didn't feel like getting dressed, his old academia uniform and his Hell Kaiser outfit (though at this point they were more for nostalgia's sake since he'd long hung both of them up for good). For everything else, he had his dark denim jeans and black T-shirts.

But none of these had been good enough for Fubuki.

"Ryo, all the people who work on the Bucky Show are fashion experts! They're used to me showing up looking like I just stepped out of a magazine. If they come here and they see you wearing crap, it'll be embarrassing."

"Then why don't I just go somewhere else while you have your party? I'm not part of the Bucky Show; I technically don't have to be here."

"Ryo!" Fubuki threw up his hands in agony. "They know we're together and they're expecting to see you. And because you live with me, they're going to expect you to look amazing."

Ryo held up his hands. "All right, all right. I'll wear my suit."

"What suit?"

"The grey one that I use for special occasions."

Fubuki stared at Ryo for a very long time. Then he walked over to a wall and banged his head against it multiple times.

Apparently Ryo's grey suit was old, boring, and out of style, just like he was. So for the first time in years, Ryo went shopping.

And he was hating every minute of it.

He wanted to please Fubuki because he knew this night was important to him, but it was just so hard to know what Fubuki would like. Every outfit he'd ever worn for the Bucky Show looked like something Ryo would never have put together in a million years. And Fubuki looked good in anything whereas Ryo's dark blue hair only went well with white, blue, and black.

Two more trips around the men's section didn't give him any ideas, and his feet were killing him. Ryo sank into a nearby chair and massaged his temples to get rid of his slowly forming headache. As much as he hated to think that there was something he couldn't do, even he had to admit that when it came to fashion, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing from square one. He didn't even remember what his size was; he hadn't been shopping in years, always preferring to just wear out what he had. Every time he found something that looked halfway decent, it always ended up being way more than what he wanted to spend.

"Mommy, Mommy, look! It's Marufuji Ryo!" a small child shouted excitedly, pointing in Ryo's direction. Ryo looked up, startled, and watched as the child's mother shushed him and pulled him away, whispering to him that celebrities usually didn't like to be bothered. Ryo gave the child a halfhearted wave, to which he grinned and waved back as his mother grabbed his arm. He watched as the child was reluctantly pulled away and noticed he was wearing a T-shirt with Mutou Yuugi on it, standing tall and proud in his black leather clothing. Ryo smiled and thought about how there would soon be T-shirts with Shou's picture on them now that he'd signed on with a new designer label. If only he could wear those to the party.

His headache wasn't going away. Ryo stood up and headed for the entrance, ready to admit defeat. He'd just have to tell Fubuki that the only thing he looked good in was black.

Black.

Ryo stopped in his tracks as an idea clicked into his head. He turned around and walked right back into the store, his hopes freshly renewed.

Fubuki buzzed around the house like a fly, checking this and that and making sure everything was perfect. He smoothed his hair and straightened his tie and rearranged the place settings at the food tables. When his coworkers finally arrived (all dressed to perfection, much to his dismay), he offered them punch, engaged in small talk, and tried to calm his swirling nerves. Finally the dreaded moment arrived.

"So where is this Ryo we've heard so much about?" someone asked. "We'd love to meet him."

"Uh…sure." Fubuki cleared his throat and braced himself. "Ryo! Can you come down here please?" He mentally began to prepare himself for the looks of disapproval that were sure to come the minute Ryo stepped into the room with jeans and a T-shirt. Or that hideous grey suit. He closed his eyes. I can't watch.

"I'm coming," Ryo called from the top of the stairs. Fubuki held his breath as his coworkers all ceased their small talk to turn their heads and see Fubuki the pop star's boyfriend, former pro Marufuji Ryo, who was now slowly descending the stairs and coming closer into view.

"Wow," they breathed as Ryo stepped off the stairs, now clearly visible. Fubuki forced himself to look and gasped.

There stood Ryo, standing proud and tall with one hand on his hip. Skin-tight leather pants hugged his legs, showing off their length as well as the curve of his hips. A matching black tank top held tightly to his chest, displaying his abs and muscles. His bare arms rested gracefully at his sides and his hair sat on his broad shoulders. Fubuki noted with astonishment that he even wore a little bit of eyeliner to draw attention to his icy green eyes.

"Ryo….you look…amazing," Fubuki whispered, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend. He did it. He really did it! He felt a grin spreading across his face until it hurt. So his boyfriend wasn't a total fashion disaster.

"Well, I do live with you," he replied calmly. "And you always look amazing."

"Aww," the guests cooed. Fubuki walked over to Ryo and slung an arm around him.

"Looks like I've taught you well," he said proudly.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Ryo's mouth at the thought of telling Fubuki how he'd really come up with this outfit, but he decided it would be best to just play along. "Yup, I've learned from the best."

The best duelist, at least.