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In all the years of being together Lucius has never asked Pete to go to leather night. Izzy and Fang must be busy though because Lucius asked him, he accepted for some reason and now he’s forced to dress up. The only problem is that he has nothing to wear. He doesn't wear that shit, it's too restricting. He likes his balls being wild and free.
But what Lucius wants, Lucius gets.
Pete knocks on Izzy’s office door. He knows he's home, and he knows for sure that he's not doing anything, because he has access to his schedule. Big mistake on Izzy’s part, but he's made no move to change it so Pete will keep exploiting it for friendship. He pushes the door open without waiting, but Izzy doesn't even look up.
“Help me.”
Izzy finally turns, lowering his glasses. His eagle eyes only work so well, apparently, “you need more help than I can provide.”
Pete snorts, “me? Two nights ago you cried because Fang ate the last of the peanut butter.”
“I didn't cry, you fucking twat, I had an eyelash stuck–”
“Yeah, okay, and Lucius is a virgin.”
Izzy narrows his eyes as he stands from his chair, “what do you want?”
Pete’s brought back to the office, because oh yeah, he's here for something. He's not sure how to even ask to borrow something leather, so he stumbles over what he needs and how Izzy can give that to him. He gets a once over from the older man, then a curt nod as he walks out of the room with quickness.
Pete follows him blindly down the staircase and into the living and then through the kitchen. He's not sure why they're heading to the basement, but he follows anyway. Izzy hasn't killed him yet with plenty of opportunity to do it so it can't be that.
In the basement lives a door with a big x on the front. He's seen this door a million times doing the laundry and every time he tries the handle, it's locked. He's been too afraid of asking what's inside, but his heart starts to pound in his ear as the realization hits him that the secret room will no longer be a secret.
Izzy unclips his keys and cycles through them like a janitor until he finds the right one. Behind this door must be something super incredible for them to lock it like this. What if Izzy keeps experiments here? A jar filled with extremities he took from people who did him wrong or cow tongues for secret rituals they don't know about.
Oh, it's just a storage closet.
Izzy hits the lights and they flicker for a moment, showing off the closet in front of them. It's not just any storage, though, Pete finds upon closer inspection. The wall to his right is covered in leather straps, clip on harnesses and leashes. The wall to his left has a small closet and a bookshelf filled with various toys, and books. In the middle of the room sits a swing clipped to two curved poles anchored to the floor.
“You have a sex dungeon?” Pete trips into the room, immediately reaching out to touch the leather straps as soon as he's close enough. Does Lucius know about this?
He’s ignored as Izzy steps to the closet, throwing open the door and clicking the light on. It's filled with, you guessed it, more fucking leather. Pete can't help himself as he finds his way behind Izzy, “be honest. How many cows did you guys kill?”
“What kind of outfit do you even want?” Izzy’s already sorting through the pants, and Pete is overwhelmed. There's options? He just figured there would be pants and a nice little hat to get him by and now Izzy is pulling out vests and shirts and cod pieces. He catches a flash of Izzy stuffing a pair of panties into his pocket, mumbling to himself.
“I…don’t know. I’ve never done this before!”
“For the love of…do you want more clothes, or less clothes?” And bless Izzy, he's really trying, holding up different items to see if they might work. Pete didn't have a plan for this, he doesn't know what he's supposed to look like or how to act.
“...more?”
Izzy considers this for a moment, looking Pete over like he hasn't seen him a hundred times. His brain is working where Pete’s isn't, though, because he grabs a few various items before shoving them in his direction with a hot, ‘try this’. When Izzy leaves, he's alone in the quiet hum of the overhead lights, fingers dancing over the leather items Izzy pulled aside for him.
He undresses and grabs the pants first, wiggling side to side as he pulls them on. He's a little distracted by the fit, how they seem to snuggle against his ass and crotch but taper out a little at the leg. He's already warm just from the exertion of pulling them up over his hips, but that seems worth it for the ass alone.
The shirt he's given is simple and navy, just a button down like any other, but it ends up being tighter than he's used to. Izzy is smaller than him in the waist, but it still seems to fit just perfectly, no puckering or stretch marks on the fabric. Vest, armband and rider cap with a gold chain follow to complete the look.
Pete takes up the mirror in the doorway, looking himself over. Immediately he hates it. All of the pieces look great on him, the fit impossibly perfect for someone else's clothes but he still feels like an imposter. He imagines himself walking into the bar, tipping his hat and saying, “how do you do, fellow leather daddies?” And having all of them sneer back at him.
A knock at the door pulls him out of it, the sound of a key scraping against the lock is all he hears before Izzy enters again.
“What's with this room, anyway? Why do you keep it locked?”
“Do you want to walk in on what happens here?” Izzy sounds bored, stepping up to Pete to tug at this and tighten that. He didn't really think about that before, “and before you ask, no. Lucius doesn't know what's in here. This room is for Fang. So don't fucking go off telling him. What do you think?”
“I mean, what you and Fang do on your own time–”
“The outfit, twat. The outfit.”
Pete snorts, but looks in the mirror again. Something still isn't right in what he's wearing. He sighs, adjusting the vest, “I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. I don't think I should be dressed like this.”
Izzy looks him over and nods, “take the vest and armband off.” He moves to the strap wall and looks at a few options before grabbing a leather harness as Pete takes off the items. When Izzy comes back he has the harness and a black leather tie in hand and he helps Pete into arm holes, the harness sitting in two straps just below his armpits.
The last time he wore a tie was his brother’s wedding, and it was a clip on, so when Izzy slings the leather tie around his neck and starts to wander off, he flounders.
“Uh, I can't tie this.”
He's sure Izzy is going to make fun of him, maybe call him an idiot or something but he doesn't. He doesn't even roll his eyes as he steps back up, taking both sides of the tie into his hands.
“Take this piece,” he takes the biggest piece in hand and crosses it over the smaller piece, showing Pete step by step how to do it himself. When he's done, he dismantles the tie, “think you got it?”
No, but he’s going to try anyway. He screws up the first two times, wrapping too much or stuffing too hard, but the third time is a little better. Wrinkled, but better.
“This is stupid,” he scoffs. “They make clip-ons that look just as good.” Pete knows he's done something wrong when Izzy side-eyes him, “what? You can't tell me you can tell the difference.”
“You bloody well can tell the difference,” Izzy spits, reaching in to smooth the wrinkle, “I'll kill you if you wear a clip-on to your wedding.”
Pete has to laugh. Out of all of the things Izzy cares about, the difference between a clip-on and real ties wasn't really on his bingo card. It's adorable that he cares that much, especially when it comes to his wedding.
“Well.” Pete holds his arms out to show off the final product. He still isn't comfortable, but he had to give it to Izzy that he knew his leathers, “what do you think?”
“You sure you don't wanna wear less?” Izzy offers with a cocked smile. He's softer, suddenly, as he gives a tug on the tie, “you look fucking hot.”