[hi guys I'm back :) I hope you like this one]
Takato plans an elaborate surprise for Junta to celebrate their anniversary, but his nerves threaten to get the better of him.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
"This is for Chunta. I'm doing this for Chunta. This is all for Chunta..."
Takato's mind looped an endless chant in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves; to suck it up and just do it. He couldn't let himself back out now. As scared as he was, as completely embarrassing as this was, as downright excruciating as it was, he simply had to endure it. It wasn't for his own sake; today was all about Junta.
Once, not so long ago, Takato feared the omnipresent looming shadow behind him, dreading the moments he'd strike, carting him off as a hostage while he thrashed and begged for mercy. The past him never would've guessed he'd be here an entire year later, waiting for Junta to return home so they could celebrate their very first 'anniversary'. And he certainly never would've believed the insane lengths he'd be willing to go to make the day special for the man who had forcefully captured his heart.
But here he was, all set up in the apartment like art on display with all his romantic handiwork surrounding him. It had taken weeks of planning and some of the absolute worst shopping trips imaginable, but he was proud of how well it turned out. As flustering and embarrassing as this was for himself, he knew Junta would positively love it. This was finally going to be the special day where Takato's plans eclipsed Junta's. No mountain of presents or prepaid vacations could ever compare to the efforts Takato had put into this very moment. He would show Junta who was the most desirable.
Takato fussed once more with the lacy wisp of cloth around his waist, trying his best to pull the pathetic excuse for a skirt over his hips. The garment was hardly long enough to hide anything, and even if he did manage to pull it down lower, the semi-transparent nature of the entire outfit would offer no modesty whatsoever. Takato felt completely exposed, almost more so than if he had chosen to lay there in no clothes at all. Still, he supposed that was the point, wasn't it? The object here wasn't to hide, but to excite. Besides, he had already checked the large bedroom window thirty times to make sure the curtains completely covered the glass, and he was almost tempted to hot glue them so he could be positive that they stayed there. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on display for the whole world, and that someone somewhere was laughing at him for how completely ridiculous he looked.
Takato rearranged himself on the bed, striking an equally lazy pose, hoping the movement would distract him from messing with his clothes anymore. A rouge rose petal clung to a part one of his lacy gloves, and he casually plucked it and tossed it aside. He briefly wondered if it was really a good idea to have spread the flower petals all over the bed. Did it really add anything? And now it was just a mess that would need to be cleaned up. Would he be able to vacuum them up? He had laid down an entire trail of petals from the entryway to the room in question. It would be miserable if he had to pick them all up one by one. And what of the candles? Takato slowly turned, studying the careful array of scented candles that illuminated the room. He had specifically chosen the candles with that dark oaky scent that Junta insisted smelled just like Takato's own natural aroma. But that smell only came in bright orange candles. Takato winced; would he be stuck scraping neon orange wax off of every hard surface in here? And did the little metal tins at the base of each candle go in the trash, or did they need recycling? He breathed a growling sigh; why did these romantic set ups have to be such a mess?
