🍽️ luxury dinner 🍽️

another "luxury"  fanfic???

yo what is up with me...

The apartment smelled like coffee and laundry detergent.

It was big — high ceilings, wide windows, clean lines — the kind of place only someone like Itoshi Sae could afford.

But half of it didn't look like him anymore.

There was a hoodie tossed over the couch.A pair of mismatched socks hanging off the backrest.Protein bar wrappers on the coffee table.

And a pink-haired menace asleep on the floor.

Face-down.

Like a corpse.

Sae nudged Shidou's shoulder with his foot.

"Get up."

A muffled groan.

"Ngghhh... five more years..."

Sae exhaled slowly.

"Now."

Shidou rolled onto his back and blinked up at him — eyes half-lidded, hair a disaster, shirt riding up his stomach.

He grinned.

"Oh. Morning, roomie."

"It's evening," Sae replied flatly.

Shidou stretched his arms overhead, spine cracking.

"Mmm— even better."

Sae stared at him.

Then at the clock.

Then back at him.

"We have a sponsor dinner tonight."

Shidou sat up.

He blinked.

Tilted his head.

"...Dinner?"

"Yes."

"With rich people?"

"Yes."

"Fancy business talk?"

"Yes."

Shidou nodded slowly.

"Cool," he said.

And walked away toward the kitchen.

Sae blinked twice.

"...Do you know what that implies?"

"Yeah," Shidou replied, opening the fridge and drinking straight from a water bottle. "I'm your emotional support chaos gremlin."

Sae pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're my co-representative for the campaign."

"Mhm."

"You're expected to behave."

A pause.

Shidou swallowed.

"...Define behave."

Sae closed the fridge for him.

"Don't swear. Don't break anything. Don't insult anyone."

Shidou grinned.

"So no promises."

Sae sighed.

"Go change."

Shidou flashed a lazy salute and wandered toward his room.

Sae smoothed his jacket collar in the mirror.

Elegant navy suit.Subtle watch.Polished shoes.

Flawless presentation.

He adjusted the cuffs again out of habit.

From down the hall, a door opened.

Footsteps.

Sae looked up.

And immediately stopped breathing.

Shidou walked out wearing—

Ripped grey sweatpants.An oversized hoodie with paint stains.Slides.

Not even socks.

Hair unbrushed.Neck covered in faint scrapes from training.Expression — cheerful and absolutely unapologetic.

He smiled brightly.

"Ready."

Sae stared at him for five straight seconds.

"...No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes," Shidou repeated.

"You're not wearing that."

Shidou glanced down at himself.

Then back up.

"...Looks comfy."

"It's a Michelin-star restaurant."

"So? They have chairs."

"That's not—"

Shidou shrugged.

"I don't like suits."

Sae paused.

His voice softened almost imperceptibly.

"...I know."

A beat passed.

Shidou looked away.

Just a little.

Then he smiled again — lopsided, careless.

"It'll be fine. You're gonna glare hard enough that no one will notice."

Sae narrowed his eyes.

"That isn't how this works."

Shidou leaned against the doorway, head tilted.

"You want me there, yeah?"

Sae didn't answer right away.

He could have said:

Ego assigned you.It's contractual.It's not personal.

But instead...

"...Yes."

The word slipped out before he filtered it.

Shidou blinked.

Something warm flickered in his expression.

He smirked.

"Then I'm coming like this."

Sae stared at him.

Evaluated.

Calculated.

Accepted.

"...Fine."

Shidou brightened.

"Wow. No fight?"

"I'll handle it."

"You always do," Shidou murmured under his breath.

Sae pretended not to hear.

They took a car into the city.

Tall glass buildings.Winter air.Soft streetlight reflections on wet pavement.

Shidou watched the world pass by out the window, chin resting on his palm. He wasn't bouncing in his seat or talking nonstop like usual.

He was quiet.

The kind of quiet Sae had learned meant he was thinking too much.

"You hate these things, don't you," Sae said.

Shidou let out a soft laugh.

"You're the one who looks like a CEO."

"That wasn't an answer."

Shidou shrugged.

"I don't fit in there."

Sae glanced sideways.

"You don't have to."

Shidou smirked faintly.

"But you do."

Sae didn't respond.

Because that was true.

And Shidou knew it.

The restaurant was all marble and chandeliers.

Soft harp music.White tablecloths.Glasses that cost more than a month of rent.

Executives in tailored suits looked up when they walked in.

Their eyes skipped Sae first — approving — then landed on Shidou.

Silence.Tension.A polite, uncomfortable shift in posture.

Someone forced a business-smile.

"Ah... Ryusei-san. Casual today, I see."

Sae's jaw tightened.

He answered before Shidou could open his mouth.

"He came straight from recovery training."

There was a subtle murmur of understanding.

Not admiration.

But respect.

Sae continued smoothly.

"He pushed through a double endurance rotation to prepare for the next match. I insisted he come anyway."

The subtle lie slipped out effortlessly.

Shidou's head turned — just slightly — eyes widening at him.

One of the sponsors nodded slowly.

"Athlete dedication... impressive."

"Indeed."

"Remarkable commitment."

Shidou blinked.

Then stared down at the table.

He didn't grin.

Didn't smirk.

Didn't laugh.

He just...

went still.

They sat.

Sae fielded questions.

Financial projections.Performance evaluation.Market synergy.

He answered precisely — composed, sharp, efficient.

Every now and then, someone tried to direct a question toward Shidou.

"So, Ryusei-san — how do you visualize your growth as a brand asset?"

Shidou froze.

Words caught.

Sae spoke instead.

"He prioritizes instinct over branding metrics. His strength is authenticity — it resonates with younger demographics in a way curated messaging never could."

A thoughtful silence followed.

The sponsor nodded.

"Yes... yes, that makes sense."

Shidou glanced sideways.

There was something fragile in his expression.

Something like relief.

Sae poured him water.

Without looking.

Without acknowledging the gesture.

Just

quiet care.

Shidou curled his fingers around the glass.

His leg bumped Sae's under the table — not intentional, not teasing.

Just grounding.

Later, a corporate wife whispered to her companion.

"He doesn't speak much, does he?"

Sae answered before the words could bruise.

"He doesn't waste words."

Soft. Firm. Final.

Shidou swallowed.

His head dipped.

Like the feeling hit too hard.

The dinner dragged — polished smiles, subtle back-and-forth politics.

Shidou barely touched his food.

He fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie sleeve.

Sae leaned in subtly.

Voice lowered.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

Shidou gave a crooked half-smile.

"I'm just... trying not to break anything."

Sae's eyes softened.

"You're fine."

Shidou blinked.

"You really think so?"

Sae didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

Shidou stared at him.

Then laughed under his breath.

Quiet.Warm.Almost disbelieving.

"...You're dangerous, Sae-chan."

Sae arched a brow.

"How."

"You make me wanna behave."

They made it through dessert.

Handshakes.Thank-yous.Polite exit.

Outside, the cold night air hit like clarity.

Shidou inhaled slowly.

Then burst out laughing — loud, bright, alive again.

"I didn't even swear once!"

Sae allowed himself a faint exhale of relief.

"You tried, at least."

"I behaved sooo hard," Shidou grinned. "I deserve a medal."

"You're not getting one."

"Rude."

They walked back toward the car.

Side by side.

Their shoulders brushed —neither moved away.

After a moment, Shidou spoke again.

Softer.

"...You didn't have to lie for me."

Sae kept walking.

"I didn't lie."

Shidou snorted.

"I wasn't at recovery training."

"You've been pushing yourself lately," Sae replied. "That was sufficient truth."

Shidou blinked at him.

He looked...

strangely vulnerable.

"...Do I embarrass you?"

Sae stopped.

He turned.

Met his eyes.

"No."

Shidou swallowed.

"...Then why did you defend me so hard?"

Sae's voice lowered.

Honest.Measured.

"Because they don't get to belittle you."

The streetlight flickered gold between them.

Shidou stared at him.

Then —

very gently —

he bumped Sae's shoulder with his own.

"Roommate privilege, huh?"

Sae didn't answer.

But he didn't pull away either.

They rode home in silence.

The good kind.

The apartment lights glowed when they stepped inside.

Shidou kicked his slides off.

He paused in the hallway.

"...Hey."

Sae turned slightly.

Shidou rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not good at that world."

"I know."

"But you..."

He exhaled.

"You make it less awful."

Sae's chest tightened — subtle, invisible.

He nodded once.

"You make mine less quiet."

Shidou froze.

Then smiled —

soft,slow,real.

He walked past Sae and flopped onto the couch.

"Tomorrow," he grinned, "I'm stealing all the blankets again."

"No."

"Yes."

"Try it."

Shidou laughed.

Sae went to hang his jacket.

He stopped halfway —

and realized

he wasn't annoyed.

Not really.

He was...

used to the mess.

Used to the noise.

Used to Shidou.

And the strangest part?

It didn't bother him at all.

art credit: https://www.tumblr.com/vengin5/786477099295883264/i-think-there-needs-to-be-more-ryusae-in-this