His own shirt and pants.

And they looked way too tight on Elian’s model-like frame.

His eye twitched. “Wait—WAIT. What the hell are you wearing?!”

Elian, completely unfazed, casually adjusted the collar of the shirt. “Your clothes, obviously.”

Taro nearly choked. “I can see that! But why?!”

Elian gave a lazy shrug. “Your mom told me to take a bath, and my luggage is at my uncle’s house. So, I didn’t have anything else to wear.” He glanced down at himself. “Your clothes were the only option.”

Taro snorted, pointing at him. “Pfft—look at you! It’s so tight! You look like a sausage stuffed in a casing!”

Elian raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “That’s because you’re fragile. Don’t you eat anything?”

Taro gawked at him. “Excuse me?”

Elian sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Taro, you need to eat properly. Your build is concerning—so delicate, so weak.”

Taro threw his hands in the air. “What are you, an aunty now?!”

Elian smirked, crossing his arms. “Maybe I should start cooking for you.”

Taro took a step back. “Absolutely not.”

Elian chuckled. “So dramatic.”

Just then, Yumi’s voice called from the kitchen. “Boys, stop arguing and come eat!”

Taro grumbled under his breath but followed Elian to the dining table. As he walked, he stole another glance at his shirt clinging to Elian’s muscular frame.

“…Seriously, give me back my clothes after dinner.”

Elian smirked. “No promises.”

Taro groaned. This man was going to drive him insane.