Commentary to Of Men and Pretty Coats
For visiblemarket
This was inspired, as you know, by that set of pictures where Milo is wearing that pretty and rather feminine looking coat, which made me giggle at the antics of the wardrobe department, bless them. A discussion with visiblemarket broke out, zanniness took over my brain and the hilarity came to life.
“What are you wearing?” Claude asked, frowning at Peter’s new coat as if were covered in a particularly disgusting mold.
Claude may sound annoyed, but he's really cackling with triumph on the inside.
Peter looked down at it, seeing nothing wrong.
“It’s a coat. It’s cold, therefore I’m wearing a coat.”
“But this coat? Did you get confused by all the signs and bright lights and wind up in the women’s section of the shop? Either that or you nicked it from your mother’s closet.”
“I did not,” Peter sputtered, indignant. “It’s not a woman’s coat.”
“Of course it is. Look at it. I see this exact model on women all the time. Nothing masculine about it at all, mate. And look at the way the bottom flounces out. It’s positively skirt-like.”
“It’s not-Would you stop that?”
Peter batted away Claude’s hands, smoothing down his coat flat against his hips to prevent Claude from waving it around again.
I always imagine Peter blushing and looking around them in embarrassment even though no one can see them.
“Unless you are coming out of the closet, which is the only healthy thing to do.”
“I’m not in the-“ he stopped as Claude lifted a skeptical eyebrow, grinning as if Peter were the most comical thing in existence. “Shut up. It’s complicated.
I always picture Peter as bisexual, but he's never dared own up to his family for obvious reasons (a bit like me, really). But Angela probably knows.
The point is, this isn’t a woman’s coat. I found it in the men’s section, okay?”
“Was it by itself?”
“What does that matter?”
“Well, someone could have just dropped it there, deciding not to buy it. A female someone, most likely, or perhaps a transsexual, or a gay man, which by the way-“
“I didn’t buy a woman’s coat. Now drop it.”
“Denial and deflection. Classic symptoms of the guilty. Look. See her?” Claude pointed at a woman across the street and Peter’s heart sank as he realized Claude’s point. “Doesn’t her coat look like yours? Granted, different color. Hers is red, yours is grey. But otherwise-“
“Fine. Shut up. It’s just one of those unisex things, that’s all.”
“Bisexual, you mean.”
Peter gritted his teeth, swallowing a growl and hunched further inside his coat, which was not a woman’s model no matter what Claude said.
“Are you going to bug me the whole day or are we going to get to the lesson part?”
“Oh, so you want me to beat you up?”
“If it’ll shut you up.”
||||
The next day, Peter showed up on the roof with his old short jacket. He lifted a foreboding hand as a huge grin took over Claude’s face.
“Don’t say a word.”
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth in a show of silence, Claude closed in on him, leaned close to his ear, and murmured,
“Girlie.”
Peter jumped him.
Like lotus0kid pointed out, that last line is very ripe for interpretation, which was a bit on purpose. The way I see it, first Peter expresses his indignation by trying to beat Claude in fisticuffs that are woefully one-sided against him, and soon succumbs to the much more satisfying option of smex.
I kept laughing as I was reading this again, just like when I was writing it. There was no way I could not write this. The idea was too cute. I love wirting sweet scenes between these two. They need them. Which makes me wonder why my muse insists on feeding me so much tragic angst.
This was inspired, as you know, by that set of pictures where Milo is wearing that pretty and rather feminine looking coat, which made me giggle at the antics of the wardrobe department, bless them. A discussion with visiblemarket broke out, zanniness took over my brain and the hilarity came to life.
“What are you wearing?” Claude asked, frowning at Peter’s new coat as if were covered in a particularly disgusting mold.
Claude may sound annoyed, but he's really cackling with triumph on the inside.
Peter looked down at it, seeing nothing wrong.
“It’s a coat. It’s cold, therefore I’m wearing a coat.”
“But this coat? Did you get confused by all the signs and bright lights and wind up in the women’s section of the shop? Either that or you nicked it from your mother’s closet.”
“I did not,” Peter sputtered, indignant. “It’s not a woman’s coat.”
“Of course it is. Look at it. I see this exact model on women all the time. Nothing masculine about it at all, mate. And look at the way the bottom flounces out. It’s positively skirt-like.”
“It’s not-Would you stop that?”
Peter batted away Claude’s hands, smoothing down his coat flat against his hips to prevent Claude from waving it around again.
I always imagine Peter blushing and looking around them in embarrassment even though no one can see them.
“Unless you are coming out of the closet, which is the only healthy thing to do.”
“I’m not in the-“ he stopped as Claude lifted a skeptical eyebrow, grinning as if Peter were the most comical thing in existence. “Shut up. It’s complicated.
I always picture Peter as bisexual, but he's never dared own up to his family for obvious reasons (a bit like me, really). But Angela probably knows.
The point is, this isn’t a woman’s coat. I found it in the men’s section, okay?”
“Was it by itself?”
“What does that matter?”
“Well, someone could have just dropped it there, deciding not to buy it. A female someone, most likely, or perhaps a transsexual, or a gay man, which by the way-“
“I didn’t buy a woman’s coat. Now drop it.”
“Denial and deflection. Classic symptoms of the guilty. Look. See her?” Claude pointed at a woman across the street and Peter’s heart sank as he realized Claude’s point. “Doesn’t her coat look like yours? Granted, different color. Hers is red, yours is grey. But otherwise-“
“Fine. Shut up. It’s just one of those unisex things, that’s all.”
“Bisexual, you mean.”
Peter gritted his teeth, swallowing a growl and hunched further inside his coat, which was not a woman’s model no matter what Claude said.
“Are you going to bug me the whole day or are we going to get to the lesson part?”
“Oh, so you want me to beat you up?”
“If it’ll shut you up.”
||||
The next day, Peter showed up on the roof with his old short jacket. He lifted a foreboding hand as a huge grin took over Claude’s face.
“Don’t say a word.”
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth in a show of silence, Claude closed in on him, leaned close to his ear, and murmured,
“Girlie.”
Peter jumped him.
Like lotus0kid pointed out, that last line is very ripe for interpretation, which was a bit on purpose. The way I see it, first Peter expresses his indignation by trying to beat Claude in fisticuffs that are woefully one-sided against him, and soon succumbs to the much more satisfying option of smex.
I kept laughing as I was reading this again, just like when I was writing it. There was no way I could not write this. The idea was too cute. I love wirting sweet scenes between these two. They need them. Which makes me wonder why my muse insists on feeding me so much tragic angst.