Shintaro stares at the shoe in his right hand and then the one in his left. He repeats this process several times in short succession.
He hears a yawn to his right and spots Takao snoozing on the bench.
The bench where people put there butts to try on shoes.
That can't be sanitary.
"Takao," Shintaro snaps.
"Who died?!" Takao shrieks as he yanked from sleep.
"Which one?" Shintaro asks, holding the two shoes up for him to inspect.
Takao squints at them and then starts cackling, which is unbelievably annoying. "They're the same," he says.
Shintaro shake his head. "They're not," he replies.
Takao stands, stretching, bones popping into place, and strolls over into Shintaro's personal space. Shintaro would move, but he needs Takao to help him pick out new shoes. Also, he doesn't actually mind if Takao is in his personal space; he just likes to pretend that he does. Admitting he actually enjoys the warm, sometimes overbearing presence so near him would be disastrous; the boy already hung all over him, if he knew he really didn't mind it, he'd never be able to get him off.
Why doesn't that sound terrible? Shintaro wonders. Oh, well, it's a problem for another day. His horoscope suggests he not think too much today, as over thinking could lead to his downfall. So he simply won't think about it.
"Oooooh. I see. This one's got two bands around this bottom and this one's only got one."
Shintaro nods, glad he could see the obvious difference.
Takao snorts. "Seriously? It doesn't fucking matter. They'll both look great."
"But, which one will look better? It has to be perfect."
Takao shakes his head. "Everything looks perfect on you anyway," he mutters, crossing his arms and looking away.
Shintaro goes silent. He knows that's completely untrue, but…somehow hearing Takao say that, and maybe Takao even believed that…well it made Shintaro…happy.
"Oh," he says, glancing at the shoes. Suddenly, he can't really tell the difference. Maybe he was over thinking after all. "I'll just get these," he says, choosing one at random (something he never does) and heading for the register.
Takao follows close behind, as always.
Instead of asking him to move, or snapping at him, Shintaro takes a healthy step closer to him on the way out.
Takao looks him up and down and Shintaro fights the violent blush creeping up on his face. "Aww," Takao says finally, looping his arm casually through Shintaro's. He tenses, but doesn't move. "You have no idea what to do with compliments, do you?"
Shintaro sputters at him, unable to confirm or deny it.
Takao pats his arm playfully, smothering a cackle that's probably working it's way up his throat. "Oh, Midorima-kun," he says, shaking his head. He sighs slightly and says something Shintaro probably wasn't meant to hear, but the wind decided to take his words right to Shintaro's ears; a stroke of luck earned by his decision to not overthink, no doubt: "Stop being so fucking cute."
Shintaro can't help himself. He pretends he didn't hear. "What?"
Takao looks at him, silver eyes all fake innocent and smiley. He has nice eyes, Takao. Like pools of water in moonlight, but surely they haven't always been this nice?
"Oh, nothing," he says, patting his arm again, a phony grin on his face. "Nothing, nothing at all."
And Shintaro smiles to himself. "I didn't really notice before, but you're pretty cute too, Takao."
The flabbergasted sputtering this earns him is well worth the embarrassment of admitting it aloud. Shintaro just watches in amusement as Takao tries, and fails, to fish out a response to that, silently appreciating the day's horoscope because, as always, it was completely correct.
He could honestly get used to the whole, not-over-thinking thing if it meant Takao was rendered speechless and pink.
Yes, indeed.
He walks with new purpose, random shoes in one arm, and random Takao in the other and he could get used to walking just like this.
Yes, indeed.
Song: I Would Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers