Fic: First Date
title: First Date
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: R
words: 1800
warning: crossdressing
summary: Tommy asks Sutan for some help dressing up for his date.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my finals projects? lol. Sorry about the whole no-porn thing. But I might write a follow-up at some point. :D Unbeta'd.
on ao3
“Hey, so,” Tommy begins when he hears a lull in the conversation. Sutan raises an eyebrow at him, waiting. Tommy licks his lips. “I want you to help me dress up. Like, for real dress up.”
“Like full drag?” Sutan asks. “Clothes and everything?”
“Yeah, but like…”
Sutan smirks at him. “I’m guessing you don’t want to tuck.”
Tommy blushes hot and shakes his head, but he’s grinning. Sutan won’t tease him… much.
“Is this a surprise for someone?” Sutan asks knowingly.
“Not a surprise,” Tommy replies. He shakes his head at Sutan’s questioning glance. “I mean, the clothes and everything are a surprise, but… We’ve discussed it. He wants to… take me out.”
“Out, like-”
“Not in public. Like, semi-public. No paps. He wants to take me to a club. I don’t have to try and pass or anything.”
Sutan gaze slips down Tommy’s body and back up. “You could, though, baby.”
“Whatever. I mean, that’s not the goal. I just want to look hot. So… will you help me?”
“Of course! I’ve been dreaming about the day I finally get to dress you up. And oh, baby, I know the perfect pair of panties for you-”
“Oh, god, I’m going to regret this,” Tommy moans.
***
Tommy sits on the edge of the tub with his razor in one hand and shaving cream in the other, looking apprehensively down at the hair covering his legs. “Can I just go up to, like, my knee?” he calls.
“All the way up, Tommy Joe!” Sutan shouts from Tommy’s bedroom.
Tommy rolls his eyes and works the cream into a thick lather, spreading it all over his left leg. He gives his razor a dubious glance-it’s the same one he uses for his face, but he figures hair is hair and a razor is a razor, so it should work fine. He picks a spot on his shin and drags it through the foam. It leaves a bare spot, but he notices a lot of hair still left in the clean stripe of skin.
It takes a while to get his lower leg smooth. He has to rinse out the razor way more often than he ever does when he’s shaving his face, and he has to go over spots about a million times to get all the hair gone. He makes sure his noises of frustration are loud enough for Sutan to hear.
“I can just do one leg, right? He’ll get the picture.”
“Tommy, if you want me to dress you up, you gotta do it right.”
“Jesus. This is taking forever!” He looks down at his right leg, still covered with hair. It looks like he suddenly got hairier, like he’s wolfman or something, compared to his newly-smooth leg. He chews on his lower lip for a few seconds.
“You almost done?” Sutan calls.
“Can you help me?”
Sutan comes through the door like he’d been waiting for Tommy’s invitation. “I was wondering how long you’d last,” he says.
“Hey,” Tommy replies, mildly offended. “I can do it.”
“I know you can, baby.”
“You’re probably just better,” Tommy admits.
“Gimme the razor.”
Tommy lathers up his other leg and stretches out for Sutan. He must have some kind of magic shaving power, because it doesn’t take him nearly as long to move up Tommy’s leg. The razor doesn’t get clogged half as often, and he somehow manages to scrape away all the hair in long, smooth strokes.
Freshly shaven and clean, Tommy feels exposed and freezing. He can see goosebumps on his thighs. Sutan takes his arm and helps him step out of the bathtub and onto the fluffy rug, then hands him his jeans.
“Come on, we’re going shopping.”
“Wait, what? I thought you had-”
“Oh no, baby, this is not some DIY project. You are going to look fabulous. Besides, shopping’s the best part!”
***
Tommy can’t meet anyone’s eye while Sutan guides him around a lingerie store. When a salesgirl asks if they need any help, Tommy wants to the earth to swallow him whole. Sutan just brushes her off and leads Tommy to a display. There’s a mannequin wearing a pair of black lace panties with red laces up the front, like a mini-corset.
“I saw these last week. They’d look so perfect on you, come on.”
“They’re… pretty,” Tommy offers.
Sutan leans close and Tommy feels his breath against his ear. “Think of your cock behind those laces,” he whispers. “Like Adam’s pants. Remember you told me how much you loved untying them and sucking him without even letting him get undressed?”
“Jesus Christ, shut up,” Tommy hisses. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he’s blushing so fiercely.
“We’re buying them,” Sutan says decisively.
***
Sutan picks out a short skirt and a pair of tights to go with it, and a shimmery halter top that he says will show off Tommy’s tattoos nicely. They go back to Tommy’s place and Sutan immediately starts pulling the tags off everything so Tommy can get dressed.
Tommy shuts himself into the bathroom again when he puts on the panties. Now that Sutan’s put the image in his head, Adam’s stupid lace-up pants are all Tommy can think of when he sees the crisscross pattern of the red ribbon. He turns his mind elsewhere and orders his cock to settle down. The panties slide up his thighs easily and settle low on his hips, and Tommy adjusts his cock until it doesn’t look like it strains the lace too badly. The bulge is still hugely obvious, but Tommy hopes it’s obvious in a hot way and not an ill-fitting way.
Next come the tights, which, Tommy finds, are actually thigh-high stockings. They’re thick and black, with a subtle pattern in the fabric. He can’t quite make it out, but when the stockings stretch tight over his pale skin, he sees why Sutan picked them. They’re interesting without being overwhelming, and they provide way more coverage than fishnets, which Tommy is hugely grateful for.
Sutan is holding the shirt and the skirt hostage, so Tommy shuffles out of the bathroom in just the stockings and underwear, crossing his arms low over his stomach as he waits for Sutan’s approval.
“Oh, fuck, baby.”
“Good?” Tommy asks.
“Smoking.”
The skirt is a little flouncy thing that feels like it’ll expose Tommy at any second; he has to concentrate to keep his hands away from the hem. He's only had it on for five minutes and Sutan’s already given him shit for tugging it down.
He puts on the shirt-it’s black, like the skirt and the stockings, but it’s got some kind of rainbow shimmer sewn into the fabric that looks cool and sparkly when the light hits it at the right angle. Sutan ties the straps around the back of his neck, forming the low vee that cuts halfway down his chest.
“I feel naked,” Tommy says, looking down at himself.
“Honey, you’re dressed in black from head to toe. It’s not that much of a departure for you. Calm down,” Sutan replies dismissively. “Hair and makeup time?”
“Sure, fine. Okay. What are you thinking?”
Sutan steps back and scans Tommy’s face, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I think I want to curl your hair. That looked really pretty, remember? And just gloss on your lips. You’re gonna be kissing, not performing,” he adds when Tommy makes a face.
Sutan steers him back into the bathroom and sits him down on the toilet seat. Tommy folds his hands in his lap and tilts his head up patiently.
“Make me pretty.”
Sutan taps Tommy’s nose. “You’re already there, baby. Close your eyes.”
Tommy loses track of time while Sutan’s brushing powders and glitter over his eyelids and cheeks. It’s easy to relax under Sutan’s careful, sure strokes; it’s so familiar and calming. It almost feels like they’re back on tour. He keeps his eyes closed while Sutan curls his hair and sprays it to sticky perfection. At long last, Sutan finally paints on some lip gloss and has Tommy stand up.
When he sees himself in the mirror, Tommy has to admit the effect is stunning.
“You like?” Sutan asks, grinning.
“You’re amazing,” Tommy replies. He thinks he maybe could pass for a girl. “If I had boobs,” he adds when he says as much to Sutan.
“You want ‘em?”
“Nah,” Tommy says. “It’d be overkill, I think.”
“Anyway,” Sutan says, “this way you look like a supermodel. Totally hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Adam’ll fuck you through the wall and forget about taking you out to some club.”
Tommy grins. “Perfect.”
***
Sutan leaves him with a kiss and a pair of red pumps, and makes him promise to call later with all the details. Adam shows up half an hour after Sutan's car disappears down the street.
Tommy watches him walk up the steps from a gap in the blinds in one of the windows. He looks gorgeous, as always, with only light makeup and a little bit of glitter on his jacket. His shirt is open almost to his navel, and Tommy's mouth waters a little at the sight of all that bare, freckled skin. Adam rings the doorbell.
Tommy’s suddenly afraid to answer the door. He reaches for the handle and turns it halfway.
“Come on, Tommy,” Adam says. “Sutan just texted me on my way over. He said you look amazing. I want to see.”
Tommy takes a deep breath and swings the door open wide. Adam’s jaw drops; Tommy laughs.
“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”
Tommy twirls in place, letting the skirt flare out a little. “He’s not home. You’ll have to take me out instead.”
Adam takes his hand and pulls him in for a thorough kiss. Tommy hopes Sutan left the lipgloss; he’ll definitely be needing touchups tonight. After a moment, Adam steps back, still holding Tommy’s hand, and gives him a slow once-over.
“I am totally okay with that,” he answers.
Tommy swishes his hips. He’s come to like the way the skirt feels around the tops of his thighs. “You like?”
Adam’s gaze comes to a halt on Tommy’s parted lips. “You are so fucking hot. I kind of want to just skip dinner and fuck you now.”
Tommy decides he’s all in favor of being the tease, for once. He sashays past Adam and drags him down the front steps. “No way. I don’t put out until after the first date, at the very least. Now come on, you promised me alcohol and dancing.”
“I'm a man of my word,” Adam replies, trailing after him towards the car. “And I swear I'm gonna fuck you so hard later…”
fin.
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: R
words: 1800
warning: crossdressing
summary: Tommy asks Sutan for some help dressing up for his date.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my finals projects? lol. Sorry about the whole no-porn thing. But I might write a follow-up at some point. :D Unbeta'd.
on ao3
“Hey, so,” Tommy begins when he hears a lull in the conversation. Sutan raises an eyebrow at him, waiting. Tommy licks his lips. “I want you to help me dress up. Like, for real dress up.”
“Like full drag?” Sutan asks. “Clothes and everything?”
“Yeah, but like…”
Sutan smirks at him. “I’m guessing you don’t want to tuck.”
Tommy blushes hot and shakes his head, but he’s grinning. Sutan won’t tease him… much.
“Is this a surprise for someone?” Sutan asks knowingly.
“Not a surprise,” Tommy replies. He shakes his head at Sutan’s questioning glance. “I mean, the clothes and everything are a surprise, but… We’ve discussed it. He wants to… take me out.”
“Out, like-”
“Not in public. Like, semi-public. No paps. He wants to take me to a club. I don’t have to try and pass or anything.”
Sutan gaze slips down Tommy’s body and back up. “You could, though, baby.”
“Whatever. I mean, that’s not the goal. I just want to look hot. So… will you help me?”
“Of course! I’ve been dreaming about the day I finally get to dress you up. And oh, baby, I know the perfect pair of panties for you-”
“Oh, god, I’m going to regret this,” Tommy moans.
***
Tommy sits on the edge of the tub with his razor in one hand and shaving cream in the other, looking apprehensively down at the hair covering his legs. “Can I just go up to, like, my knee?” he calls.
“All the way up, Tommy Joe!” Sutan shouts from Tommy’s bedroom.
Tommy rolls his eyes and works the cream into a thick lather, spreading it all over his left leg. He gives his razor a dubious glance-it’s the same one he uses for his face, but he figures hair is hair and a razor is a razor, so it should work fine. He picks a spot on his shin and drags it through the foam. It leaves a bare spot, but he notices a lot of hair still left in the clean stripe of skin.
It takes a while to get his lower leg smooth. He has to rinse out the razor way more often than he ever does when he’s shaving his face, and he has to go over spots about a million times to get all the hair gone. He makes sure his noises of frustration are loud enough for Sutan to hear.
“I can just do one leg, right? He’ll get the picture.”
“Tommy, if you want me to dress you up, you gotta do it right.”
“Jesus. This is taking forever!” He looks down at his right leg, still covered with hair. It looks like he suddenly got hairier, like he’s wolfman or something, compared to his newly-smooth leg. He chews on his lower lip for a few seconds.
“You almost done?” Sutan calls.
“Can you help me?”
Sutan comes through the door like he’d been waiting for Tommy’s invitation. “I was wondering how long you’d last,” he says.
“Hey,” Tommy replies, mildly offended. “I can do it.”
“I know you can, baby.”
“You’re probably just better,” Tommy admits.
“Gimme the razor.”
Tommy lathers up his other leg and stretches out for Sutan. He must have some kind of magic shaving power, because it doesn’t take him nearly as long to move up Tommy’s leg. The razor doesn’t get clogged half as often, and he somehow manages to scrape away all the hair in long, smooth strokes.
Freshly shaven and clean, Tommy feels exposed and freezing. He can see goosebumps on his thighs. Sutan takes his arm and helps him step out of the bathtub and onto the fluffy rug, then hands him his jeans.
“Come on, we’re going shopping.”
“Wait, what? I thought you had-”
“Oh no, baby, this is not some DIY project. You are going to look fabulous. Besides, shopping’s the best part!”
***
Tommy can’t meet anyone’s eye while Sutan guides him around a lingerie store. When a salesgirl asks if they need any help, Tommy wants to the earth to swallow him whole. Sutan just brushes her off and leads Tommy to a display. There’s a mannequin wearing a pair of black lace panties with red laces up the front, like a mini-corset.
“I saw these last week. They’d look so perfect on you, come on.”
“They’re… pretty,” Tommy offers.
Sutan leans close and Tommy feels his breath against his ear. “Think of your cock behind those laces,” he whispers. “Like Adam’s pants. Remember you told me how much you loved untying them and sucking him without even letting him get undressed?”
“Jesus Christ, shut up,” Tommy hisses. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he’s blushing so fiercely.
“We’re buying them,” Sutan says decisively.
***
Sutan picks out a short skirt and a pair of tights to go with it, and a shimmery halter top that he says will show off Tommy’s tattoos nicely. They go back to Tommy’s place and Sutan immediately starts pulling the tags off everything so Tommy can get dressed.
Tommy shuts himself into the bathroom again when he puts on the panties. Now that Sutan’s put the image in his head, Adam’s stupid lace-up pants are all Tommy can think of when he sees the crisscross pattern of the red ribbon. He turns his mind elsewhere and orders his cock to settle down. The panties slide up his thighs easily and settle low on his hips, and Tommy adjusts his cock until it doesn’t look like it strains the lace too badly. The bulge is still hugely obvious, but Tommy hopes it’s obvious in a hot way and not an ill-fitting way.
Next come the tights, which, Tommy finds, are actually thigh-high stockings. They’re thick and black, with a subtle pattern in the fabric. He can’t quite make it out, but when the stockings stretch tight over his pale skin, he sees why Sutan picked them. They’re interesting without being overwhelming, and they provide way more coverage than fishnets, which Tommy is hugely grateful for.
Sutan is holding the shirt and the skirt hostage, so Tommy shuffles out of the bathroom in just the stockings and underwear, crossing his arms low over his stomach as he waits for Sutan’s approval.
“Oh, fuck, baby.”
“Good?” Tommy asks.
“Smoking.”
The skirt is a little flouncy thing that feels like it’ll expose Tommy at any second; he has to concentrate to keep his hands away from the hem. He's only had it on for five minutes and Sutan’s already given him shit for tugging it down.
He puts on the shirt-it’s black, like the skirt and the stockings, but it’s got some kind of rainbow shimmer sewn into the fabric that looks cool and sparkly when the light hits it at the right angle. Sutan ties the straps around the back of his neck, forming the low vee that cuts halfway down his chest.
“I feel naked,” Tommy says, looking down at himself.
“Honey, you’re dressed in black from head to toe. It’s not that much of a departure for you. Calm down,” Sutan replies dismissively. “Hair and makeup time?”
“Sure, fine. Okay. What are you thinking?”
Sutan steps back and scans Tommy’s face, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I think I want to curl your hair. That looked really pretty, remember? And just gloss on your lips. You’re gonna be kissing, not performing,” he adds when Tommy makes a face.
Sutan steers him back into the bathroom and sits him down on the toilet seat. Tommy folds his hands in his lap and tilts his head up patiently.
“Make me pretty.”
Sutan taps Tommy’s nose. “You’re already there, baby. Close your eyes.”
Tommy loses track of time while Sutan’s brushing powders and glitter over his eyelids and cheeks. It’s easy to relax under Sutan’s careful, sure strokes; it’s so familiar and calming. It almost feels like they’re back on tour. He keeps his eyes closed while Sutan curls his hair and sprays it to sticky perfection. At long last, Sutan finally paints on some lip gloss and has Tommy stand up.
When he sees himself in the mirror, Tommy has to admit the effect is stunning.
“You like?” Sutan asks, grinning.
“You’re amazing,” Tommy replies. He thinks he maybe could pass for a girl. “If I had boobs,” he adds when he says as much to Sutan.
“You want ‘em?”
“Nah,” Tommy says. “It’d be overkill, I think.”
“Anyway,” Sutan says, “this way you look like a supermodel. Totally hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Adam’ll fuck you through the wall and forget about taking you out to some club.”
Tommy grins. “Perfect.”
***
Sutan leaves him with a kiss and a pair of red pumps, and makes him promise to call later with all the details. Adam shows up half an hour after Sutan's car disappears down the street.
Tommy watches him walk up the steps from a gap in the blinds in one of the windows. He looks gorgeous, as always, with only light makeup and a little bit of glitter on his jacket. His shirt is open almost to his navel, and Tommy's mouth waters a little at the sight of all that bare, freckled skin. Adam rings the doorbell.
Tommy’s suddenly afraid to answer the door. He reaches for the handle and turns it halfway.
“Come on, Tommy,” Adam says. “Sutan just texted me on my way over. He said you look amazing. I want to see.”
Tommy takes a deep breath and swings the door open wide. Adam’s jaw drops; Tommy laughs.
“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”
Tommy twirls in place, letting the skirt flare out a little. “He’s not home. You’ll have to take me out instead.”
Adam takes his hand and pulls him in for a thorough kiss. Tommy hopes Sutan left the lipgloss; he’ll definitely be needing touchups tonight. After a moment, Adam steps back, still holding Tommy’s hand, and gives him a slow once-over.
“I am totally okay with that,” he answers.
Tommy swishes his hips. He’s come to like the way the skirt feels around the tops of his thighs. “You like?”
Adam’s gaze comes to a halt on Tommy’s parted lips. “You are so fucking hot. I kind of want to just skip dinner and fuck you now.”
Tommy decides he’s all in favor of being the tease, for once. He sashays past Adam and drags him down the front steps. “No way. I don’t put out until after the first date, at the very least. Now come on, you promised me alcohol and dancing.”
“I'm a man of my word,” Adam replies, trailing after him towards the car. “And I swear I'm gonna fuck you so hard later…”
fin.