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Early evening settles in, bringing with it a gentle night’s breeze and the aching sensation that burns the back of your eyelids. It’s a mere two nights before your quaint but glamorous wedding and you think the planning you challenged yourself to undertake is finally taking its toll. Needless to say, your husband-to-be, Leon, helped out in any way he possibly could, suggesting from the get-go to hire a wedding planner with the help of the generous salary you both earn. You politely declined however, citing the personal touches you heavily desired sprinkled into the details of your beautiful day to just remain between you and Leon - no one else. While this is mostly true, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that forfeiting so much control in the hands of another individual wasn’t exactly something you were interested in doing. Especially on such an important day.
So, you start to plan your wedding and it’s so much fun. The freshness of a new project always is, particularly when a select bunch of your closest friends and Leon are the ones you bounce ideas between, creating a picturesque plan that ensures to capture the beauty of your faithful union in all its glory. You arrange and arrange, sifting through countless wedding dresses for the one, consuming cheeky amounts of cake all in the name of cake-tasting - all the bridal things. You find it truly fulfilling, being so booked and busy, particularly when taking into account how your regular life schedule takes a turn due to the pandemic. Though you remain ever the optimist when Leon checks in with things on your end, sometimes you find yourself out of sorts when the thought of how different things would be if there wasn’t a pandemic happening crosses your mind. Despite your initial discomfort, you would have agreed in hiring a wedding planner as the scale of your wedding would have required doing so, and so many of those who’ve not only touched your life but Leon’s too would be in attendance, rejoicing and celebrating the momentous occasion for what it’s worth.
It’s not as if the quaint outdoor wedding attended by a select bunch of those closest to you two didn’t have a special place in your heart, but when days are long and you feel such a disconnect from your norm, you simply cannot help the thought. Today is one of those days.
Immediately, you gaze down at the sparkling diamond encrusted ring that sits perfectly against your skin, a reminder of your sacred love and there’s a lightness in your chest at the prospect of the piece of jewellery accompanying you for the rest of eternity. The thought gives just a bit of comfort, even if you want so much more. You sigh nevertheless, pushing your glasses back onto your face and getting back to the sickening amount of emails that flood your inbox, put at ease knowing the end of your night will come when the email count reaches 0.
As you sit comfortably against the soft material of the couch in your shared apartment, nearby TV murmuring in the background, you don’t question when you hear the sudden loud of music. Leon returned home not long ago, peppering your forehead with smothering kisses and the promise of joining you after his shower. You do question the music though, when it’s unlike the familiar alternative tones of music that usually play as he showers but the sounds of Ginuwine’s ‘Pony.’ You can’t help but chuckle to yourself at the choice in music, shaking your head in amusement as your shoulders absently move in time with the beat. Your fingers pitter patter against the keys of your laptop, feelings of tension lessening before you hear the door of your bedroom open. You’re so engrossed with typing the last bit of your email that you don’t immediately turn to Leon, who exits the bedroom.
“New addition to the shower playlist, I see.” You muse, grinning as you hit the full stop button and turn to face Leon, face draining of its colour.
Now, in all the time you’ve known Leon, you’ve had countless encounters with him nude, the outline of his veins and bulge of his muscles something you can never tear your eyes from, as if you were seeing them for the first time everytime. His bare state is nothing irregular due to the circumstances, but you’re sorely mistaken. Leon, who you assumed would retreat into the living space in an ivory white towel hung loosely around his sculpted midriff, opts for something else, something else you couldn’t even have guessed.
Black leather crosses the expanse of his legs, flared out at the bottom and gripping his large thighs like a lifeline. A tawny brown belt holds the material to his hips, leather trousers hanging so low your line of sight is abundant in deep v-line and his butterscotch blond snail trail. His rock hard torso glistens as he steps out into the light of the room, strutting in with command as his hand secures the midnight black cowboy hat atop his locks, effectively shielding his eyes. You audibly gulp.
Yet again, another assumption in your mind is combatted. You were under the impression that Leon couldn’t dance, over the course of your relationship the man himself joking he’d have to oil his joints before utter destruction would take place on the dancefloor. This is not the case. Again. Albeit sheepish and amateurish, Leon steps towards you with seductive rolls of his gleaming torso, sleeveless vest outlining the flow of his movements as the long sterling silver feather necklace he adorns nestles onto the space of his cleavage.
At this point, you’re barely blinking, afraid you’ll miss a single second of the amazing spectacle, taking in every inch of Leon as he stops before you. In your trance, you must have placed your laptop somewhere, because it is long gone when Leon’s figure looms over you, suddenly making you feel so small yet so terribly flustered. In one swift motion, the cowboy hat Leon sports falls atop your head, half shielding your eyes. You’re quick to move it further upwards, eying Leon as he shimmes the leather vest down his shoulders inch by inch. Regardless of the overflow of lust that dilates your pupils and leaves you with dry mouth, your smile is innocently amused as you notice the rosy tint of Leon’s cheeks against the porcelain of his skin, lips fighting the timidity that very much craves a downturned smile.
The vest is off Leon’s shoulders and he’s shaking his hips in small circles to align with the lyrics. Lifting a toned arm up to the sky, he swings the material in slow motion, highlighting the shadows of his great muscles and overall being an absolute sex-god. You hear a smack off in the distance where the vest lands and Leon’s grabbing your hands, touch warm and sensual as he guides them onto his torso. Beneath your tingling skin, you discern the mould of Leon’s build - solid, lean and every explicit word that comes to mind. He’s so undeniably sexy, ushering you down the expanse of his toned body with heavy-lidded eyes, but so damn endearing. He tries his very best to settle into the serious stripper persona he’s adopted, but his hands are trembling and he’s biting his lips in order not to burst out laughing and you can’t take it anymore. An airy laugh empties out from the bottom of your belly, gazing up at Leon with all the love and happiness you can muster in your eyes. The instantaneous change in atmosphere is one Leon appreciates, chuckling under his breath as he listlessly keeps with his supposed choreography.
“When you said we have Magic Mike at home, I didn’t think you meant this.” you joke, not even attempting to hide how ludicrous this whole scenario is.
Leon snickers, still preoccupied with your hands as they rest on either side of his waist. “Seemed like a shame to not provide entertainment for your bachelorette party.”
He ghosts your hand over his snail trail, brushing past his cock quick enough for inaction but slow enough for you to make out the semi hard-on he’s working with. There’s a disgusting twist in your abdomen. “Channing Tatum can’t beat this real deal, now can he?”
Aided by the calmer sounds of the next song murmuring behind you, you’re simply confronted with the grapple of the literal context of your current situation. Your legs cross over one another, a rush of humidity showering over you as your front teeth sink into your bottom lip. You want Leon in every possible way, and are sure he feels the same, his desire face to face with you. But you can’t ignore the nuances that envelope you. Observing the long hours you spent organising your wedding, with no occasion planned to drunkenly celebrate together with your friends or seemingly reward yourself for your extensive labour, Leon took it upon himself to be there for you. As he always has been, and you honestly can’t thank him enough.
You press a soft kiss against Leon’s knuckles, peering up at the man who couldn’t be a better face to wake up to for the rest of your life. “I love you so much. Thank you - really.”
His lips curve softly and you’re falling in love all over again. “Don’t mention it.”