(A/N): My family: This vacation is gonna be great! We're not gonna go on electronics and ignore each other at ALL!

Me, clutching my laptop to my chest: THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG

"Oh my God," Brahms' eyes shot wide, and a grin split over the entirety of his face, "Michael, you look dashing!" At that last word, his voice peaked into a soprano, the voice he often used when he was only with his friends, "What could I do to get a gentleman like you to take me to the dance?" He fluttered his lashes, clinging to his friends arm, and you found yourself smiling. Michael, in his dark blue suit (which was worth a quarter of a fortune just to rent) did look positively stunning- his tie was a stark black and the shirt underneath was a light grey. He looked like one hell of a catch and he seemed to understand that as he set his jaw, accentuating his jawline just to tease Brahms even further, though, as usual, he refused to play along with his joke.

"Let go of my arm or else I'll break yours." Despite the sharpness of Michael's icy gaze packed with threat and danger Brahms knew the burly man would never hurt a curly hair on his little British head. 

"What about me? Will you take me to the dance?" You say with a grin just as wide as Brahms', hopping up from the couch you were seated on to go hang off of his other arm.

"No! Take me!" Now Norman was joining in, and then seconds after Jason was signing 'ME' furiously. The positive attention brought a rosy glow to Michael's face, something you had never once seen in your entire life. 

"Michael Audrey Myers are you blushing?" 

"Oh, I always knew I had this effect on you!" You and Brahms were relentless, and Michael was growing more embarrassed by the second. With a huff and a twitch of his lips showing that he was desperately fighting off a grin, he shook the four of you off of him and turned back to the mirror displayed in the rental shop, brushing off the front of his suit. 

"You guys are stupid," Michael said, forcing his features into a grimace. Brahms flopped back down onto the shops sofa and you stepped up to Michael's side, smiling at him in the reflection of the mirror.

"You love us," Norman stated, stepping up to Michael's other side.

"Yeah," He huffed in return, "Yeah, I guess I do."

"On a more serious note, you do pull off that tux- get it." Brahms spoke matter-of-factly, as if he'd hosted a survey- 'Does Michael look absolutely bomb in this suit or not?'- and had it come back 100% positive.

"It's, like, a billion dollars," Michael said and glanced over his shoulder, raising one eyebrow in uncertainty, "I feel like that's taking advantage of you." Blowing a raspberry and waving one hand dismissively through the air Brahms shook his head furiously.

"I'll pay anything to get you in a suit that nice!" 

***

"Okay, (Y/N)! Great reveal, we're all ready!" Norman's voice traveled through the thick cloth of the change room as anxiety fluttered in your stomach. You balled your fists, looking down at your outfit one last time and swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You could do this- you didn't look ridiculous, your friends wouldn't pick out something you looked stupid in- right? All at once, doubts flooded your mind, and you had to shove them violently away to get yourself to move. You'd never worn anything even remotely this fancy, and the thought of not only your friends but strangers judging you in it? 

"Come on bestie you've got this!" Brahms clapped his hands excitedly, and you nodded your head to no one in particular. Reaching up a sweaty-palmed hand, you gripped the curtain previously concealing you and pulled it swiftly to the side, striking a pose and hoping that you looked more confident than you felt. Your friends were silent, and the stone of anxiety thrashed even harder around inside of you. You tried to read the expressions on their faces; Michael looked stoic save for a slight raise of his brows. Norman and Brahms' jaws were dropped. Jason's eyes were wide. All at once, the four broke into the biggest smiles you'd ever seen- even Michael- and they leaped to their feet. 

"You're GORGEOUS!" Brahms squealed, racing to your side and skittering around you to examine your outfit from all angles. Jason grabbed your hand in his to lift your arm and run his hand along the smoothness of the fabric as Michael straightened out your lapels. Norman tugged gently at the fabric wrapping your free arm, admiring the way it fit just right. 

A M A Z I N G

Jason signed the letters frantically, and then moved to the sign for amazing itself before letting go of your hand and wrapping you in a bear hug. Your fears evaporated all at once in Jason's arms, and then everyone else was hugging you as well, crushing you in the most wonderful way possible. You felt your eyes grow the slightest bit glassy and pushed away the urge to tear up at how much you cared for these people. 

"Thank you, guys," You laugh, and hug them back as much as space will allow. One by one they step back, brushing out the wrinkles they'd caused in the commotion. Then, Brahms, the fancy-clothes maestro of the group, turned you to the mirror with his hands set proudly on your shoulders to let you see yourself in your entirety. Your suit consisted of a dark grey plaid, the pocket handkerchief a cream coloured silk- the back of your jacket extended down into an almost dramatic tailcoat that made you feel like a vampire or a very dapper magician- beneath your suit was a blood-red turtleneck, something way out of your comfort zone. If it weren't for Brahms promising you'd look drop-dead handsome in the thing you wouldn't have even given it a chance to see that he was absolutely right. Your hair wasn't done or anything of the sort yet you still looked like a million bucks. You can't help the goofy grin that adorns itself on your lips, making Brahms take a step back to pump a victorious fist into the air.

"Yes!" He cried out in his high voice, "I knew it would be a hit! I told you guys, never doubt my fashion sense! I've been going to the orchestra for so many years I could make a suit jacket look good with pyjama pants! Never ever doubt me again in your entire-" Brahms cut himself off. As he was speaking he had spun on his heel to turn on his friends, and it seems he'd spotted something- or someone- that brought his speech to a halt. Knitting your brows, curious, you turned to find what he was looking at; whatever it was had caught the attention of the others as well. 

"Brahms, what-" You took two steps and were finally able to see over Brahms' lanky frame. Your anxiety came flooding back all at once as your heart leapt into your throat. Doubt flooded back into your mind like a tidal wave, making your chest contract almost painfully. "Danny, uh- hi." The bruise on his face was still more than evident, and you guessed that that was one of the many reasons your friends were staring. It was also an easy guess that Brahms was afraid since he'd been using his other voice. Danny's golden eyes flickered to you, scanning up and down your attire at a languid pace, his face beginning to glow a soft red. He threw on his usual smirk and took a few steps closer to you tilting his head, jamming his hands in his pockets, and raising one brow.

"You look hot," He hummed, and the golden butterflies in your stomach erupted into a flurry. 

"Uh- thanks, that's... that's really nice of you to say." You were still buzzing with nerves; Danny reached one hand up to tug at the collar of your turtleneck, letting out an appreciative hum. 

"The turtleneck suits you, I think. Is this the suit you're settling with?" 

"Yeah, yeah I think so- I dunno yet but-"

"I think you should get this one. It looks great." At Danny's words you let out a giggle more giddy than you'd ever let out before. It made Danny's face glow brighter, his smile widening into something warm and beautiful. He reached a hand up to muss your hair and you shrunk flusteredly away from it, your own face tomato red. The action, to Michael, must have made you seem as if you were uncomfortable because his hand snapped outwards to catch Danny's wrist in a surprising and crushing grip just before it touched your hair- you watched Danny's face contort with loose pain and realized, oh shit, that's wrist with the fading bruise.

"I think you should step away and keep your hands to yourself." 

"Michael, what are you-"

"Get your hands off of me!" Danny's melted-honey eyes lit with the defensiveness that always seemed to come around when people challenged him. He ripped his arm from Michael's grasp and whirled to face him with a snarl. 

"Get lost, Johnson," Michael was a tower of a man, all sharp eyes and harsh features. Danny was shorter, yes, but his glare was just as mean. You knew that these two were an even match for one another and that you had to step in before the situation grew worse.

"Michael, stop, it's okay-"

"No, no, don't worry," Danny let his shoulders sink back, his stress oozing out of him, his harsh glare slackening, though you could still see passive aggression etched lightly into his features. The entrance door to the store jingled- your eyes darted quickly over there and you spotted Aurelia and Dahlia making their way inside. "I've got places to be." He turned on his heel and sauntered away, his shoulders tensing again. You watch him go for a moment before letting out a huff, passing Michael a slightly annoyed look before pushing past him to follow after Danny. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to accidentally ruin the trust that had bloomed between you two.

"Danny, wait," you hissed, and reached a hand out to place it on his shoulder. He stopped mid-step and spun to face you, sucking in a deep, clipped breath. "I'm sorry. They don't know how nice you are to me." He opened his mouth to speak, probably to spit out an insult, and then he snapped his mouth shut and tore his gaze away. With another slow breath that came out in an even slower exhale, he turned back to you and nodded his head. He seems to have regathered some composure.

"I... I know, sweetheart. Sorry." 

"It's alright, just please don't be mad at them- or me, for that matter." You let your hand fall from his shoulder to take his own hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I really appreciate the things you said to me. Michael shouldn't have pushed you away like that." The last lines of stress eased out of Danny's face and his warm smile returned.

"I could never get mad at you. You do look lovely, honey. I guess I shouldn't have been so touchy." Quickly, you shake your head, returning his smile with your own.

"No, no don't say that. It was all totally innocent, and actually made me feel... a lot better about myself. I was kinda nervous I looked stupid or something, but knowing that you think I look nice? I have more confidence than I've ever had before." Danny let out a low 'awww' and his eyes began to glow with adoration. He took your other hand too, his thumbs running over your knuckles.

"I'd hug you if your friends wouldn't kill me for it," He laughed out, and you laughed lightly with him. "Anyways, I really do have to go. That wasn't just an excuse, my sister has a dance too and we need to get her the prettiest dress in the world." Now it was your turn to let out a cooing sound.

"You'd better make her look even more gorgeous than she already is, and you'd better send me pictures of the dress she picks." 

"Will do, sweetheart, will do." With a burst of confidence you surged forwards and kissed Danny on the forehead, making him break out into an even goofier grin, his face going beet red. You'd learned that affection was something he craved and you were more than willing to give it. 

"See you tomorrow, Dan."

"I look forwards to seeing you in your suit again." He winked, turned on his heel, and hurried over to his mother.

---

"Daniel," Aurelia hissed to her son, his attention snapping towards her. Fighting back a smile, she motioned with her hand for him to come closer- Dahlia was currently admiring her current dress choice in front of the shops mirror, leaving them a moment of privacy. "You and (Y/N) make an adorable couple." And, again, Danny's face went beet red.

(A/N): Michael >:(

And no, the suits aren't really a billion dollars. It's all hyperboles. Our boys like to exaggerate.