It was only until I got to describing the dress that I realized, "Oh my God, I'm making Akaya crossdress again." So sorry, Akaya—I swear, it's like my subconscious mind is doing this or something. I'm not even kidding. This is the third time! And even though he's not actually going to do it in this chapter, it'll definitely be in the next.

The costume shop's chimes sounded, alerting Fuji Syusuke of a new customer, but he paid it no mind.

"Fuji-kun?"

At the sound of that voice, Fuji looked up immediately. "Yukimura-kun! How wonderful to see you!"

Yukimura smiled down at him. "It's wonderful to see you as well. How have you been?"

"I'm well, thank you. But why have you come?" The brunet looked vaguely perplexed. "While I'm touched that you'd think to stop by and visit me, you're really not the type of person to do something for no reason, Yukimura…"

He laughed that light, tinkling laughter of his. "You've seen through me. To be honest, Fuji-kun, I came in hopes of receiving advice. You're known so well for your sadism, you see."

The perplexed expression on Fuji's face cleared, and was replaced by a look of malevolent delight. "How pleasant! Although I wish you wouldn't degrade my reputation like that; I'm just a designer, after all."

"One of the most popular in the country," Yukimura affirmed. "But that's really not why I came."

Fuji's grin widened. "I think I know, now. Didn't you recently acquire a new boy-toy?"

Yukimura didn't think twice about the degrading term used for his supposed boyfriend. "I did."

"Isn't said boy-toy a straight paparazzo?"

"You did research on him too?" he asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Well, yes," Fuji answered with a shrug. "You're one of my best friends, Yukimura. I did it out of concern and nothing else."

"You mean you got tired of playing pranks on Tezuka and deciding to pry into my personal life," Yukimura said, amused.

"Of course. In any case, I thought perhaps you'd agreed to date him to get the fan girls off your back. But I still don't see how that concerns me."

Yukimura smiled. "You're partially correct. I do want the fan girls to go away and all, but this is all just so entertaining. I've had my share of fun humiliating him, of course. I flirted with him, kissed him, played with his tie, got him drunk…"

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Fuji mused.

"No, nothing happened, really. It's just, I can't think of any other ways to toy with him. Well actually, I can think of plenty, but I want to know what you would do. You're such an expert on sadism, after all."

"I'm touched." Fuji shut his laptop and leaned forward on his desk. "To be honest, I was waiting for you to ask that." His blue eyes flashed with something that could only be called evil. "We simply must discuss this over coffee." And just like that, the evil expression faded into a typical, serene smile. "How's eleven o' clock?"

Yukimura sipped his mug of hot chocolate. Fuji sat across from him, typing rapidly on his laptop, and the young tennis player had to admit, he was slightly annoyed. Fuji was the one who had invited him out to coffee, after all—wasn't he supposed to give Yukimura his undivided attention (and torture methods)?

So the blunette cleared his throat. "What have you got there, Fuji-kun?"

Fuji grinned and opened his icy blue eyes, and immediately, the temperature in the coffee shop dropped twenty degrees. "I'll show you." He turned the laptop over to Yukimura, who examined the screen's contents with a mildly surprised expression.

It was a picture of a rather revealing French maid's dress. According to the measurements on the side, the skirt was barely a foot long, and the neckline was unusually deep. The dress itself was covered with lace and ribbons, and a feather duster lay at the side to match the design.

Yukimura arched an eyebrow and glanced up at his friend.

"I designed it myself," Fuji said proudly. "And in just five minutes, too. I can make it more extravagant, if you like. I'm thinking pink and black with a touch a glitter."

For once, Yukimura was absolutely clueless. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Fuji waved dismissively. "Make Kirihara-kun wear this, of course. He stood you up, after all. He owes you a favor." He bared his teeth in an indulgent smile. "Send me pictures. He'd make a wonderful model."

"That's a fantastic idea, Fuji," Yukimura said dreamily. "Absolutely fantastic." Then he perked up. "You said something about modeling, didn't you?"

The ethereal young designer tilted his head to the side and replied, "I like the way you think."

Akaya hurried to the park. Yukimura had texted him moments ago, asking to meet him. Hell knew why, but Akaya could have cared less. His life had been pretty much ruined anyway; he doubted there was much else Yukimura could do.

What innocence.

"Ah, Akaya! You showed up this time."

Akaya's face turned ten shades of red in response. "I'm sorry, I…"

"I know," Yukimura assured. "Sanada told me what happened. He seems rather threatening, but he's a softie at heart. Really. Even though he slaps people and could probably kill you in two seconds flat, he's really quite sweet. He visits animal shelters with me and everything."

Akaya kind of doubted that, but knew better than to voice it. "I, uh, see. So was there a particular reason you called me here?"

"I just wanted to see you." Yukimura intentionally let his voice trail off, and plastered a sad, shy look on his face. "I—I wasn't sure you still liked me, given that you didn't show up the other day…" He glanced away, making sure his eyes were wide and distressed.

He simply had to thank his mother for all those acting lessons.

Meanwhile, Akaya was feeling positively guilty. "I'm so sorry, Yukimura. I didn't mean anything by it—I panicked, I guess, and—"

"Let's just forget about it," Yukimura said, smiling hopefully.

Really. Those were some damn good acting lessons.

"I really do feel bad about last time," Akaya said apologetically. "If there's any way I can make it up to you…"

He shouldn't have said that.

Oh, Akaya. Dear, naïve Akaya.

Yukimura's grin took a sadistic turn, but Akaya didn't notice. "There is a way, in fact." He reached for Akaya's curly hair and brushed it away from his face. "If you wouldn't mind…"

Akaya bit his lip. Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream. You're manlier than this, Akaya. "Of course not," he managed. "Anything."

"Anything," Yukimura repeated with a sly smile. "I like the sound of that. Come with me to the costume shop, then."

"Costume shop…?"

"Just meet me there. It's 341 Pine Street…"

Akaya hurried to copy the address down, and smiled weakly. "What business would you have at a costume shop, Yukimura?"

"My friend works there," Yukimura explained. "It's been such a long time since I've seen him last, and he's the most amazing designer and photographer. In fact, I've asked him to design a special something…"

Akaya didn't like the sound of that.

Well, to be honest, he didn't like the sound of anything that'd happened in the last week of his life, but it wasn't like he had much say in the matter anyway. "That sounds great, Yukimura," he said, trying his best to sound smooth. God, years of flirting experience and all of it goes down the freaking drain.

"Magnificent! See you at five." He slid into his limo and sped off, leaving Akaya in the dust.

Poor lass.

…I mean lad.

I know this is short, but I really don't have time to write more, and I didn't want to make you guys wait any more than I have to. I'm pretty sure you guys see what's coming next, but here's the preview anyway:

Akaya stared at the bright lights and the white backdrop. A beautiful brunet sat, poised by the camera, and Yukimura smiled brightly.

"Put this on," he said, pushing a black clothes-bag into his hands. "The outfit is inside."

"I thought you were taking me to a costume shop," Akaya accused.

"It is a costume," Yukimura insisted. "Right, Fuji?"

The brunet smiled a smile equally brilliant. "I designed it myself." He revealed his blue eyes, daring Akaya to say more.

Akaya frowned, but went to the changing room without further protest.