[ nazuna's honestly the most responsive person that he knows - for a fact, shu enjoys seeing the way his skin pinkens, the way he stills when he tries not to fidget, the mischievous twinkle in his eye, the way he shrugs before shu tugs the sleeves of his shirt off and lets the fabric pool to the ground, exposing an expanse of pale, smooth skin.

but nazuna's right - shu does enjoy dressing him up, whether it's just small items like coordinating the colours of their shirts or other accessories, and it's no exception here, shu reaching for the maroon fabric of the shirt in the outfit and smoothing out the tiny creases in the fabric before pulling the fabric over nazuna's shoulders, the sleeves over his arms - each touch is calculated, almost, lingering just slightly longer than strictly necessary.

there's a ghost of a smile on his features as he does up the buttons. ]

Hm. It depends. I wouldn't want to leave a masterpiece wrapped up for too long.

[ a tug here to straighten out the fabric, and shu rolls up the sleeves - they're a little long, the only defect in an otherwise perfectly tailored shirt. the waistcoat goes on next, and for a moment, it's silent as shu fixes it up - and when he's done, he leans in, presses a chaste, lingering kiss to nazuna's lips before he pulls away.

there's definitely a note of admiration there. for obvious reasons. the maroon and black contrast beautifully with his skin, and it's perfectly fitted, not a single thread out of place. ]

... You look beautiful. [ and it's fond, even as he gestures for nazuna to change out, both the underwear and the stockings.

(nazuna's going to kill him, one day.) ]

Go on. Show me.