The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

Fashion Disaster
Chapter 4

The moment he stepped behind the curtain, Sheik felt like all his energy was sucked out of him, leaving him slightly wobbly as he was mercilessly pulled back to the dressing rooms by Kafei and his little army of minions. Sidon, sadly, was nowhere in sight, presumably still held captive by his older sister. Not that Sheik had time to mourn the loss of the tall model, as Kafei's mouth was running at a mile a second.

"...and the twirl! The twirl! It was better than anything I could possibly have imagined! And when you did it twice?! Sheik, my most beloved cousin, how I can ever thank you enough?! I'm pretty sure every single man and woman in the audience needed a moment to themselves after that! The pictures will be astounding!"

"Uh-huh," Sheik mumbled, thinking back to that Hylian in particular. He'd definitely need a moment, Sheik had a feeling.

"And that smirk—it was just like Kiro's, only better! Fuck me, it even got me a little hot under the collar, and that's—"

"Disgusting and illegal," Paya said from somewhere to Sheik's left, her hair bobbing among the sea of minions. "Please don't think about your cousin that way, kafei."

"Of course not!" Kafei said with a huff. "I was just trying to make a point."

"Please do so without the incest."

"Paya, stop cramping my style!"

"Kafei, stop corrupting our baby cousin."

The next few minutes were a blur as Sheik was, once more, stripped down. This time, though, his carefully folded normal clothes were handed to him, and then he was directed to the small office bathroom.

It was the first moment he'd had to himself since setting foot in the mall, and now, as he was coming down from the natural high from being on stage, he found himself thinking back to what he'd done.

He'd flashed his panties.

Not once.

But twice.

Not at a single person.

But at a room full of them.

The second time specifically for a creepy, drooling pervert.

He took a deep breath. This was fine. He wasn't going to see any of these people ever again. A one-off thing. He was done now, and could go back to his normal, ass-kicking life as a martial arts instructor, and never have to worry about...

...the photos.

Oh, Din save him, there were going to be so many photos spread everywhere! He knew how the internet worked! He'd be thrown up on so many image boards and subskims!

And, worst of all, Impa would see them! His aunt was an avid follower of all her kids' careers (even Kafei's), and there was no way in hell she was going to miss his biggest event so far!

"My life is over," he muttered, staring at his haunted expression in the mirror.

He needed a knife.

The only honourable way out was seppuku.

There was nothing with which to accomplish that in the bathroom, though. Well, he supposed he could break the mirror, but there was no guarantee and of the shards would be sharp enough or big enough to do the job. No, he'd need one of the tantos that decorated the wall in his office.

...but that'd mean facing people outside of the bathroom.

And that wasn't an option.

No, he'd have to seal himself in here and starve himself to death. Self-mummify, like those ancient monks. Couldn't be that hard, right? Sure, he didn't have that fancy paper they used, but toilet paper would suffice, surely? Paper's paper, and all that. People said that, didn't they?

His life-ending train of thought was interrupted by a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"Sheik?" Paya's voice asked, muffled. "Are you okay in there?"

"Oh, perfect!" Sheik said, only slightly hysterically. "I just made a fool of myself in front of a few hundred people in a way that I'll never live down, but otherwise I'm good!"

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He wanted to say no, but he'd never really been able to deny Paya anything she asked for. Mostly because she rarely did ask for anything at all. After all the ways she'd pulled his and Kafei's asses out of the fire over the years, he doubted there was anything she could ask for that he wasn't willing to give at a moment's notice.

And that included letting her into the bathroom.

Where he was still only clad in the silky viscose panties.

Because apparently Sheik's brain was committed to destroying his dignity today.

To her credit, Paya didn't even blink when he let her inside the small bathroom, merely taking up position in front of the door, leaning against it. It was unfair, how good she looked in a suit. And intimidating. She was scary even without knowing she was a black belt as well. When she put on those aviator sunglasses, you'd have to be a braindead idiot to even think of approaching her.

Or Sheik.

His name was practically a synonym for that now.

Anyway.

Panties.

Still wearing them.

And only them.

He quickly turned away, face erupting with heat as a massive blush blossomed on his cheeks, and he hastily threw on his jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie. Only when he spotted his boxers still laying on the lid of the toilet did he realise he'd forgotten to remove the panties first.

This was just a real fucktangular day, wasn't it?

"You okay?" she asked, and it didn't even sound like she was holding back laughter. He turned and found her giving him a sympathetic look. "Overwhelming, huh?"

He couldn't contain the single burst of a high-pitched laugh. "That's one way to describe it," he said. "I can never show my face in public again! Why did I do that?!"

"You were caught up in the moment," Paya said calmly. "You're hardly the first model it's happened to."

"Oh, so every model decides to flash their panties at the crowd at some point in their careers?!" He laughed again.

"Maybe not every model," Paya conceded. "But there have been more than a few incidents where wardrobe has 'accidentally' failed at a show. It generates a great deal of buzz for both the model and the designer, and in this world, it doesn't really matter where the PR comes from. At least you didn't show anything...untoward."

"Is this you trying to make me feel better, Paya-nee?" Sheik asked, eyeing the mirror. Wouldn't take more than an elbow strike to break it, he reckoned. "Because it isn't working!"

"I'm just saying," Paya said, still calm as a cucumber, "that what you did was nothing. It will barely be a blip on the radar. Besides, I'm quite sure we can, hm, convince people not to publish those photos. We have our ways."

It was in moments like this that Sheik realised that he didn't know exactly what services Paya provided in addition to general security and bodyguard ones. She'd always taken more easily to the seedier parts of Impa's web of contacts, and it wasn't unthinkable that she had the power to do...very unpleasant things to people if she so chose.

And that...made Sheik feel a little better. Yeah. She could stop if anyone tried to publish the unseemly photos.

"That one Hylian, though," Paya continued, "I'm not sure about him. We'll need to look into it. There's no telling what he'll do with the photos he took."

And there went Sheik's good feeling.

"Come on," Paya said, taking him by the arm and gently leading him out of the bathroom. "You can think about this later. Right now, we have a party to get ready for."

"Party?"

"Yeah, designer and crew party, remember? It's a way to build connections and the like, share a few drinks with colleagues, eat some food—"

"There's food?" Sheik asked. "And booze?"

Paya laughed. "Lots."

That cheered Sheik up immensely. If he could finally eat something (that is, empty the buffet) and then drink himself into oblivion, he might just make it through the night. And not want to kill himself the day after (well, maybe he still would, but then it'd be because of the hangover).

His good mood lasted until Kafei, in a moment of pure evil, asked, "Acquired an appreciation for the silkier things in life, have we?" and gave Sheik a wink that bordered on obscene.

Paya jabbed him in the solar plexus for that.

Sheik laughed.

There was an afterparty for the show. There always was, apparently, and as a holder of the Trifocus press pass (how the hell Zelda had managed to wrangle a press pass rather than just a photo pass, he'd never know), he was welcome to attend.

He couldn't imagine anything worse.

Being stuck in a room with a mountain of alcohol, bad catering, and a bunch of people he'd been more or less ogling (though on his sister's behalf rather than his own...with two notable exceptions) was the furthest thing from his idea of a good time. And if he ran into the model from Zora or that Sheikah...gods, he'd have a heart attack.

So instead he elected to head home and get a head start on sorting through the photographs he'd taken.

Saria, however, had other plans.

"We haven't hung out in forever," she announced, poking him in the chest. "We're going to my place and having dinner, and then we'll talk about what a disaster you are for actually turning down an opportunity to party with not one but two models you have the hots for!"

"I don't have the hots for them!" he exclaimed defensively. "I just...really liked their outfits!"

"Uh-huh," Saria said, cocking her head to the side. "So you slobbering all over those bulging panties, that was just...an aesthetic appreciation? I could believe that with the Zora model, if he weren't the single most attractive man I have ever seen in my life, but the Sheikah? No, Link. If you were an anime character, you'd be dead from blood loss on account of the massive nosebleed that'd erupt from your face like a busted fire hydrant."

Link stared at her for a long moment. "Now that was just unnecessary."

"Nope, totally necessary!" Saria said happily, grabbing his jacket and pulling him towards the elevators. "Come on! I need a greasy-ass pizza and a shitty horror movie to digest today! You came in on Epona, right? You know the way?"

Link nodded. Fighting Saria when she'd decided on something was like trying to resist a hurricane. You were welcome to try but you'd get blown away no matter what. Might as well let it carry you off without struggling.

Things ended quicker that way.

And, well...

Link liked pizza.

The party was a hive of activity as designers, models, producers, editors, journalists, even the odd film director all mingled and shook hands, making connections, agreeing to lunches that could make or break their careers for years and decades ahead. It took place in some sort of event room deep in administrative section of the mall, far from the prying eyes of the public, like it was some sort of secret affair.

Which it probably was. Sheik's ears picked up on more than a few discrete future contracts being discussed by the people around him, even over the loud, pounding music that he felt in his chest. He didn't pay it much mind, however, focusing on consuming the buffet that, Din above, someone definitely hadn't spared any expense on.

The open bar was just perfect dot over the i that was his current quest: to take back all the calories Kafei's insane diet had denied him for the past few days, and to drink his own weight in booze so he could forget The Thing That He Did on the stage. At the moment he was shovelling sushi rolls into his mouth with both hands at a pace that left some onlookers staring at him with gaping mouth, to which he simply stared back and held out a roll.

"Want one?" he asked, mouth full.

The onlookers excused themselves with looks of horror, leaving Sheik to demolish the buffet on his own, which suited him just fine. Weakness was not to be rewarded with delicious food.

He washed down his huge mouthful with about half a glass of wine (from his magazine of seven), belching like a perfect gentleman: loudly and proudly, chuckling a little to himself at the looks of disgust a pair of passing models shot him.

Weak. As if he was even close to the most disgusting individual they'd come across in this industry.

He chuckled again and turned to his left, intending to grab some spring rolls next...and coming face to face (or, rather, face to chest) with Sidon. He'd changed out of his princely outfit (to everyone's immense disappointment), and was now wearing a three-piece suit, though without the jacket.

It should be illegal to look as good in a waistcoat as he did.

It should also have been illegal for him to sneak up on Sheik while he looked like a gremlin trying to make itself explode with food.

Well, it was nice to have given Sidon the illusion that Sheik wasn't some sort of troglodyte that belonged in the deepest of caves, hidden away from the world and sunlight.

"Hungry, huh?" Sidon asked, unleashing a smile so bright and happy it was blinding despite the presence of at least three disco balls and a laser machine in the room. "So am I."

If Sheik's appetite had been considered impressive, Sidon's was legendary. Granted, he ate with far more refinement and finesse than Sheik could ever hope to achieve, but the amount he put away in a few minutes dwarfed Sheik's by far. Granted, the man was much taller and bigger, but still!

"Sorry about that," Sidon said after a few minutes spent eating in companionable silence (where every second passed about as quickly as a decade to Sheik, who did not understand what he was seeing...or how Sidon was even deigning to occupy the same vicinity as Sheik). "My sister puts me on a pretty insane diet and exercise regime in the weeks before a show. This is the first time I've eaten carbs in a while. Lost control." He laughed at himself, still grinning. "How about you?"

Sheik, having only spent the last couple of days on a diet, suddenly felt ridiculous. "Er...same," he said. "Though...not weeks. Just...days."

He just couldn't find it in himself to lie to this man. There was just something about him that discouraged the idea—and it wasn't just because he was gorgeous.

"Ah, but you're not used to this sort of thing, right? And as a martial artist, I'm sure you have a little more leeway in what you eat since you burn a lot of it every day." Sidon said that like it was a super interesting fact...and not just Sheik sometimes subsisting entirely on junk food and pastries whenever he didn't feel like making something properly nutritious.

"Yeah, something like that," he said, which was mostly true and therefore not a lie.

Not a direct one, anyway.

"Well, either way, you certainly looked good on the catwalk," Sidon pressed on, sipping gingerly on a glass of wine he stole from Sheik's magazine. "I wasn't expecting such a...bold design. Your cousin's other creations seemed a little more restrained."

"I'm still not entirely sure this wasn't just a big prank he pulled on me," Sheik admitted, tossing a glare in Kafei's direction. He was deep in conversation with a bunch of fellow designers, probably throwing around ideas for how he could humiliate Sheik even further.

The bastard.

"If it were a prank," Sidon said firmly, "it backfired. You had everyone's attention while you were on the stage, and it was all positive." He looked around before leaning a little closer. "Did you spot the Hylian?"

"I did," Sheik said, nodding. "He was drooling."

"He wasn't the only one," Sidon said with a chuckle. "Cute though, no? In a sort of fish-out-of-water way. That T-shirt of his..."

"Don't get me started," Sheik said. "I don't know anything about fashion, but even I know that's the epitome of anti-stylish."

"Mipha has threatened to banish me if I am ever seen wearing one," Sidon said, grinning evilly when he then admitted, "I have a version with a dolphin, a shark, and a whale, all swimming together under the moon. It's beautiful."

Sheik snorted. "I can only imagine."

As the minutes passed by and the small talk continued, Sheik felt himself relaxing more and more. Probably because of the booze, but also because talking to Sidon was...fun. And not at all stressful, like he found most conversations with strangers.

Honestly, the younger man's voice was hypnotic in itself, and Sheik could listen to him talk about marine biology for hours.

By the time he looked at his phone's clock, he realised he had, in fact, done just that. Boy, the mating habits of various sea creatures was terribly fascinating when the one explaining them was very likely heaven-sent.

"...and that doesn't even begin to describe whales," Sidon said. "Did you know that a blue whale produces over four-hundred gallons of ejaculate?"

Sheik did not know that, and he conveyed his surprise by almost spraying his mouthful of wine all over Sidon. Luckily, he managed to turn his head aside just in time, so that the only casualty was the tablecloth of the buffet table.

And some of the buffet.

Oops.

But that wasn't important; the fact he'd just learned was.

"Four-hundred gallons?!" he exclaimed. "Holy shit! That's almost enough to quench Kafei's thirst!"

As if on cue, his cousin's voice immediately responded, "No, it isn't!"

Sheik glared at him and shouted back, "That's why I said almost enough whale cum!" Kafei made an obscene gesture, which Sheik returned and then turned back to Sidon. "So, about the whale sex..."

"You must have a very close relationship to be able to make such jokes," Sidon said with a hint of awe on his face. "Mipha turns into a tomato if I even as much as hint at the word 'mating'."

"You could use that as revenge for the diet and exercise regime," Sheik suggested, suddenly feeling a little uncertain as he glanced about the room. He couldn't spot Mipha anywhere, which was either a good sign or a very bad one. One because she just wasn't there. The other because she might be standing right behind him. Sheik didn't dare look.

Sidon nodded. "I suppose I could...but that wouldn't be fair, really. I mean, yes, she puts me on the regime, but she follows it as well as a show of solidarity. She doesn't make me do anything she wouldn't do herself."

"How admirable," Sheik said. "My cousin decided to eat a box of donuts in front of me on day two of my diet. I was this close to strangling him."

"Kinky!" Kafei shouted.

Something broke inside Sheik, and he very calmly gave Sidon a gentle smile as he said, "Excuse me for a moment, please. I have a cousin to murder."

Sheik awoke the day after to the worst hangover he'd ever experienced. The sort that makes you wish you could travel back in time to find the first people who figured out how to make alcohol and kill them so they can never spread their evil throughout history. In the lack of a time machine, though, he spent the day curled up in bed, feeling very sorry for himself.

He was still wearing the panties. The energy required to remove them was far beyond what he could muster at the time, however, so they stayed on.

At least they were comfortable.

When he felt like his head wasn't about to explode at the sound of a pin dropping, he dared to go through his phone. There were the usual emails from his students' parents, all asking him to make sure he devoted extra time to their precious little gremlin, a few texts from Kafei thanking Sheik for his efforts and saying that he could keep the panties (Sheik deleted those immediately). Paya had also sent a text telling him to make sure to drink lots of water when he woke up.

There was also, surprisingly, a new entry in his contacts.

That was interesting. Sheik usually managed to keep his hands off his phone when he was drinking, which he considered a very good thing since it limited the chance of drunk texts or other embarrassing things.

But here he'd apparently added a new contact. He scrolled down until he found it...and his stomach gave a lurch.

Sidon.

He'd somehow managed to get Sidon's number, along with a very blurry photograph of the two of them grinning like idiots at the camera. And the name...Din above, how drunk had he been? He'd given Sidon's contact the name "The Fish Prince".

As if on cue, another text came in. It was from Kafei.

So? How'd things go between you and the Zora guy? I will be expecting details, the more copious the better!

Sheik groaned and buried his face in his pillow, wishing he'd never agreed to his cousin's proposal.