Unloading all of the boxes from the truck took an embarrassingly short time; there was only a relatively small pile of them sitting in Finn’s objectively gigantic living room.

“Thanks, boys,” Finn shouts out the door, closing it behind the workers after they depart, leaving him alone with Finn. Despite the vastness of the living room, Nik and Finn had ended up close enough that Nik could see the details of Finn’s face. He had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Finn’s voice is cheery as he steps away from Nik and turns on his heel, swinging his arms wide, gesturing to the rest of the house. “I wasn’t able to give you a proper tour the first time, so I hope you’ll be staying for the duration of the show.”

Nik feels his cheeks heating up again; slightly warm seems to be his default now. “Sorry about that... I forgot almost everything that had happened the night before.”

Finn laughs at that. He begins looking through boxes labeled “clothes”, frowning when he gets to the box that holds Nik’s work attire.

“Do you have any, like, suits?” Finn asks, lifting one of Nik’s wrinkled button-downs from the box. It had been the first one his mother had ever given him, and he wears it to every interview for good luck.

“Ah- no,” Nik shrinks into himself at the thought of wearing a suit to an interview. They were never really something he could afford. “Never had the opportunity to save up for one.”

“I see,” Finn mumbles, biting his lower lip. He sets the shirt back in the box and checks the watch on his wrist, looking like he was considering something. “It’s Sunday, right? C’mon.”

Finn begins walking to the front door, grabbing his car keys off of the tray that sat by the entrance. He pulls open the door and looks over at Nik, who hasn’t moved the whole time, and they’re close again.

“W-What are we doing?” Nik’s voice is shaky and he cringes at his stutter, but he’s filled with a certain warmth when Finn smiles.

“It’s a surprise,” Finn says. His voice is like sunshine.

********

Finn is out of his mind, he knows.

His stomach is flipping, his mind racing at the thought of buying clothes for Nikhil. Such an arbitrary thing, he recognizes, but the way his heart races is what drives him forward.

He sighs, imagining that Feng would yell at him later, calling him impulsive; even more so when he finds out that he invited Nik to live with him only a few days after they had met.

Finn had never been so reckless, never in his life. Everything had always been calculated, erring on the side of caution while seeming carefree. The only person who truly knew him was Feng, but he trusted him not to snitch.

“Where are we going?” Nik’s voice brings Finn out of his head and back into the real world. Finn’s smile is automatic, spreading across his face at the sound of the other man’s voice.

“You’ll see,” Finn knows he’s being a tease, but he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise. “Something that’ll give you a leg up for your interview.”

“Finn, please, you’ve already done so much-”

“Ah, ah, ah, it’s the least I can do,” Finn cuts off Nik before he can finish his sentence. He doesn’t think he could take Nik turning down his offer, though he can’t fathom why it would hurt him so much.

“Listen, I’m the one who talked you up to my bosses. If you bomb your interview in any way, that’s on me as much as it is on you. I know what’ll impress them, just trust me,” Finn pauses. He has to stop himself from rambling.

Nik is quiet as they make their way into the heart of the city, passing by expensive name-brand stores that Nik only stares at with wide eyes. Finn makes a mental note to visit them at one point with Nik, letting him pick out whatever he wants.

Where they were going now, though, was a small, privately owned suit shop. It was expensive, sure, but the people who worked there had known Finn for years and he trusted them. They made the best suits in all of New York City- they could easily dapper up Nik.

It takes a while to find a place to park, a little ways away from the shop, but Finn would be lying if he said he minded. Nik pulls his coat tighter around himself as he gets out of the car, trying his best to block out the biting cold that flushes his cheeks.

“I’ve never been to this area of the city,” he murmurs, looking up at the buildings that seem to stretch forever into the sky. It only gives Finn an excuse to study Nik; he’s all hard angles everywhere, looking like he hasn’t had much to eat in the past few weeks. His eyes were kind though, and Finn has a suspicion that’s what had drawn him to the other man.

Finn doesn’t have many close friends; he has Feng, but the two’s schedules rarely worked out, so that meant Finn was alone most of the time. Maybe his subconscious was just looking for another friend, clinging to Nik to be that person.

He ignores the ball that sits heavily in his stomach at the thought of Nik being a friend- just a friend. He doesn’t have the energy to think too deeply about it right now. They’ve just arrived at the shop.

“Welcome to Costumes de Créateurs! Ah, Finny!” As soon as Finn opens the door to the shop, a stout old man looks up from the counter. He’s French, as heard from his thick accent that Finn could only just understand from years of knowing him.

“Balthazar!” Finn wraps his arms tightly around the man as he moves across the shop and hugs Finn. It’s awkward, with the height difference, but Finn always makes it work.

“Bonté divine, Finny! It has been so long since you have visited,” Balthazar exclaims, gripping Finn’s shoulders as best as he can. “I was starting to worry I would die before I ever saw you again.”

Balthazar smiles. “And you!” he motions to Nik. “Do not think I have forgotten about you, dear boy. Are you a friend of Finn’s?”

Nik’s eyes blow wide and he sticks his arm out in a way that looks almost robotic. Finn tries to hold back his laughter as he steps out of the way and lets Nik get a good look at the cooky man who runs this shop.

“Um- My name is Nikhil,” he squeaks out as Balthazar grips his hand and shakes it far too hard. “You can call me Nik, though.”

“Oh, ho ho! I once had a friend named Nikhil. Knew him from when I still lived in France, moved all the way from India to train to be a composer,” Balthazar chuckles to himself and makes his way across the shop, motioning for the two men to follow him. They did as such.

“I take it you’re in the market for a suit?” Balthazar questions, leaning onto his counter. Nik is hanging back, and Finn watches as he eyes a few of the suits that are displayed on the wall. His eyes are filled with wonder, and Finn yet again feels his stomach doing flips.

“He is, not me. Big interview on Friday,” Finn beams as he watches Balthazar’s face light up.

“Special occasions!” he moves around the counter, a tape measure suddenly appearing in his hand. For being so old, he was surprisingly springy. “Come, come, come boy. We must get you measured.”

If Nik started to protest, Finn wasn’t able to hear it as Nik was dragged into the fitting room in the back of the shop. He moves to sit on one of the various benches in the store and takes out his phone, though he’s not really paying attention to anything that was flashing across the screen.

He could only think about the look of pure wonder he saw in Nik’s eyes only moments before.