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Kouchi was always on the lookout for muses. As an artist who used the natural world and its inhabitants as his canvas, he prided himself in his ability to capture the essence of nature and people. He could fashion any atmosphere he wanted with his photos.
But he was an artist .
He desired that spark of inspiration, that one scene, or that one person, that would make everything else he had done pale in comparison.
He looked for that inspiration everywhere he went. There were a few things and people he saw that struck him, but not in the way that he needed.
Then, he met Hokuto.
A budding model, Hokuto was quickly rising in the industry in the couple of months he had been in it.
Kouchi had met him at an after party for a fashion show, and instantly, he knew Hokuto had that… something .
His hair, the shape of his face and his features, his normally reserved countenance that get occasionally interjected by an easy grin, the stately way he carries himself. Hokuto oozed charm, charisma, and sophistication, and Kouchi was drawn to it, to him, like a moth to a flame.
It was only because Hokuto was a photographer's dream, of course.
Then, a flippant, teasing remark from his fellow photographer has Kouchi pondering the validity of that statement of his.
"Thinking about Hokuto again?" Jesse asks him as they work on edits together.
Kouchi doesn't know what to say. What Jesse pointed out, surfaced a myriad of feelings he hadn't confronted before. Though he supposes they had always tried to make themselves noticed, but he had shoved it down every time.
Until now.
On Saturday, Kouchi is waiting outside of the address Jesse told him to meet him at, which is the location for a rather fancy restaurant. He picks at his blazer, wondering if the plain black shirt he has on underneath paired with jeans is too casual.
Fifteen minutes past the time they were supposed to meet, a familiar voice, that doesn't belong to Jesse, speaks up.
"Hey, you're a photographer aren't you? The one whose friends with Jesse?"
Kouchi feels like he's moving in slow motion when he turns around, and then when he sees who it is, he feels like the whole world has joined him in moving that way.
Hokuto stands there, looking gorgeous in a perfectly pressed button-down, slacks, and an overcoat. In an instant, two separate conglomerations of feelings converge in on Kouchi and explode, so he doesn't know which one to feel more.
One is a mix of nervousness and excitement at Hokuto's presence and what it entails. The other starts as confusion as to why Hokuto is here, but then turns into a sort of indignation when Kouchi realizes he likely knows the answer already.
That little shit.
Kouchi can't ponder it longer because Hokuto is looking around then. "Do you know where Jesse is? He told me to meet him here."
Kouchi's heart sinks as he realizes he has to somehow tell Hokuto that Jesse had set them up. He wracks his brain, trying to think of an excuse, any excuse to avoid doing just that.
Luckily for him, he's saved from having to figure it out by the restaurant host. "Excuse me sirs, did you have a reservation?"
Both Kouchi and Hokuto start and turn to the man who is standing just outside the door of the restaurant, a perfectly pleasant smile on his face.
Hokuto and Kouchi share a look, before Kouchi says, "Um… for Jesse Lewis?"
The host looks down, skimming his list of reservations. He looks up with a shake of his head. "Is there another name?"
Hokuto is looking utterly baffled by now, and Kouchi wants the ground underneath him to open up and consume him.
A sigh exhales from his lips. "How about Yugo Kouchi?"
Another quick skim before the host is looking back up with another smile, grabbing two menus from next to him. "For two right? Please follow me."
Kouchi does immediately. Part of him wants to look back and wait for Hokuto, but the other part wants to bolt out of here. He does neither because he feels Hokuto following behind him.
His heart is beating in double time, thudding a rapid rhythm in his chest.
The host leads them to a table near the back and gestures to the seats, palm flat in a genteel manner. "Right here, sirs."
"Thank you," Kouchi bows his head.
The host walks off after leaving the menus, and Kouchi hurries to sit down so he isn't standing awkwardly. In his hurry though, he misses the chair entirely, sliding off the edge onto the floor.
He wants to die. Ignoring his burning face, he's about to push himself up, when a hand is suddenly in his peripheral. He turns and Hokuto is standing there, a small grin on his face.
He looks like he's holding back laughter.
"Are you okay?" Kouchi's still embarrassed, but it nearly leaves at the smile on Hokuto's face. He takes the other's hand and pulls himself up. "Yeah, thank you."
It takes a good deal of effort for Kouchi to not hold onto Hokuto's hand.
That little fall of his sets the tone for the whole date.
The waiter accidentally spills a flute of champagne all over Hokuto, and while the restaurant takes it to the dry cleaners for him, it means Hokuto has to wear his overcoat over his slacks until they deliver his clean button-down back to him.
And it doesn't stop there. They decide to go for a little walk, and in the middle of laughing about what had just occurred, it starts to rain.
Kouchi can't believe he hadn't remembered to check the weather. And apparently, neither did Hokuto, because they stand there in the sudden downpour for a few moments.
Finally, Hokuto breaks the shocked silence. "This is messing up my hair." Kouchi thinks he still looks gorgeous, but he's not gonna say anything.
And in any case, he can't, because Hokuto is then grabbing his hand and pulling them underneath a nearby store awning.
The best part is, Hokuto doesn't let go. Kouchi looks at him in surprise, and Hokuto looks back, a small smile on his face.
Who knows what would have been said or who would have said it first because then, a loud chorus of squeals arise and they are bombarded by a gaggle of schoolgirls. They clamor around Hokuto, asking for autographs, pictures, telling him how handsome he is.
As Kouchi stands off to the side, he can't help but agree.
This goes on for half an hour, maybe more, before the girls finally leave, and Hokuto slumps against the wall next to Kouchi with a sigh.
"Tough being popular," Kouchi says sympathetically.
Hokuto looks at him with an exasperated look on his face. "Tell me about it."
Kouchi chuckles lightly, and when his eyes fall to meet Hokuto's again, his breath catches in his throat.
There's an emotion he can't pinpoint in the model's eyes, but it's so strong, it feels like it crashes over him.
"I had fun today, thank you, Yugo Kouchi."
Kouchi really likes the way his name sounds off of Hokuto's lips.
"That's my line, Matsumura Hokuto- san ."
Hokuto grins, wider than Kouchi's ever seen before. "Call me Hokuto."
And before Kouchi can say another word, Hokuto leans forward and kisses him, light and soft, but lingering anyway.
"Wanna do this again?"
In the face of the perfection that is Hokuto, Kouchi only has one option.
"Absolutely."