Disclaimer: I don't claim own Ryuuji, Terry, or their sources. I don't make money off of this, but it's cool.
It wasn't curiosity that stopped Ryuuji outside the Gotham's Gizmos window display that bitingly cold Tuesday morning; it was outrage.
"Son of a bitch," he hissed, his breath fogging the glass as he scrutinised whatever upsetting aspect of the display had caught his attention. He frowned his disapproval down to the faces that beamed back up as though to make them realize his hatred for them. Clearly, he was not successful. "This isn't happening. I can't believe this."
Terry, though, didn't really get it.
"Why are we stopping here?" Terry asked after returning to Ryuuji's side. He hadn't realised Ryuuji had stopped. "It's cold out. I thought we were getting coffee."
Ryuuji motioned wordlessly towards the display in Gotham's Gizmos. Terry looked, and to his credit, tried really hard to find what could possibly be wrong with it. Nothing in particular stood out to him. He shrugged and chalked it up to Ryuuji acting weird.
"You see it, don't you? How embarrassing," Ryuuji said, finally pulling forth the strength to turn away. "I will never live this down."
Totally confused, Terry looked at the window display again, searching for something, anything. He looked back to Ryuuji. This didn't make any sense. There was nothing wrong.
"What the hell are you being so dramatic about?" asked Terry. "It's just a window display."
"Of course it is," said Ryuuji shortly. "But it's a window display with my face on it."
"Yeah, but lots of things have your face on them," said Terry, trying to be helpful even though he suspected it wasn't going to work, "like boxes, posters, websites, cutlery. I don't see what's wrong with cardboard. Remember that banner we saw at the mall in Domino? You were two stories tall and you totally loved it."
"This is different," said Ryuuji. He calmed down to explain. Anyone who said Terry had had no positive effect on Ryuuji had obviously never had to sit through a Ryuuji panic-rant, and for irony, they had Terry to thank for it. "I explicitly requested that they not to use this picture. Look how puffy my eyes are. The left one isn't even open all the way."
"Is this one of those you-shot-the-wrong-side-of-my-face problems?" asked Terry tiredly. He grabbed at Ryuuji's sleeve, prepared to drag his boyfriend after him if it started to look like they were going to standing here all day.
"No, both sides of my face are in excellent condition. Just not in this picture, where both sides are tired."
Terry rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated show of turning to look at the picture again. In a pseudo-thoughtful voice he said, "Okay, well it's only really obvious when you point it out."
"No, you're just slow," said Ryuuji.
"Um, thanks. Appreciate that," said Terry, very much not appreciating that.
"I mean you aren't they type to notice this sort of thing," Ryuuji explained, forever stunned by Terry's inability to recognize when Ryuuji was really insulting him and when he was just admitting a hard, but absolute, truth. "But not everyone's like you. While you're blissfully unawares, they are totally disgusted."
Terry shrugged again, maybe for the fifth time. Once more, h contemplated dragging Ryuuji away from the window. "Listen. It just looks like…you. Not better or worse. It's fine."
"You did not just tell me that I look like that all the time," said Ryuuji, ready to do something stupid like start arguing with Terry, right here, right now. Terry decided he was going to have to dragged Ryuuji and grabbed his boyfreind's arm.
"Enough of this; we're bailing," he said, pulling Ryuuji along down the street.
"Hello? Did I ask you to manhandle me away from the shop? Lemme go!" said Ryuuji, trying to pry Terry from him but with no success.
"I'd say you were asking for it," said Terry. "And if you want me to drag you through the street, I'll drag you."
"No!" Ryuuji cried. He punched Terry a few times in the arm, but there was considerable difficulty in simultaneously punching with force and walking, so the blows came off as weak and ineffective. Before long they were to the coffee shop they'd originally planned on, and Ryuuji had given up.
"Fine," Ryuuji snapped. "You're right. Staring at the picture solves nothing. I'll call my PR department in the morning. Happy?"
"Totally," said Terry with a smug grin that rubbed Ryuuji entirely the wrong way, but that Ryuuji was refrained in responding to, because what Terry didn't know was that Ryuuji was plotting to get him back much more poetically. He hadn't told Terry that a recent Gotham Gazette interview had asked for a picture of the two of them together. Therefore, when Terry brought him his coffee and joking warned him not to look outside as a taxi passed with the shameful Ryuuji-photograph on it's ad-plaque, Ryuuji smiled and forced a laugh. Sweet, delicious order would indeed be restored. Just Terry wait.
Endnote: So. I'm trying to get back into the mood fro writing Terry/Ryuuji after the harddrive crash. Wish me luck~! At my personal livejournal (there's a link in my bio) I have posted some silly, sexy micro-fics. If you seriously need a Terry/Ryuuji fix. Which would be wierd of you, but I won't judge you. lol.