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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of Domestic December
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Published:
2023-12-31
Words:
731
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
9
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87

Borrowing Clothes, Waiting in Line

Summary:

Mary wants to raid his girlfriend's closet for a new outfit to wear to a show. She's happy to help.

Of course, then they have to wait in line...

Notes:

Written for Domestic December.

Combined a Day 3 prompt and a Day 4 prompt.

Work Text:

"What about this?"

"Nah. Too lacy."

Allie set aside the dress, which was indeed very lacy for a guy like Mary, she had to admit. "Alright," she said, "No lace. What were you thinking, exactly?"

"How much leather have you got in there?"

"Well..." Allie touched a fingertip to her chin in thought. "I do have leather pants. But I don't think they'd fit you."

"Why not?"

"Because they're made for a different type of crotch."

"Right, right." Mary nodded. "No room for the dick."

"Right. And my ass is rounder."

"What?" Mary frowned. "No it's not!" He turned this way and that in front of the mirror, studying his own (quite lovely, Allie had to admit) behind, then sighed in defeat. "Hmm...alright. You have a point."

Allie smiled slightly and nodded.

"So, what else have you got?"

"Let's see." Allie walked back into her closet, rummaging around through the various boxes, drawers, organizers, and hangers. Surely there was something in there that would fit Mary. Though their body shapes were slightly different, they were still roughly the same size for most things.

"Hmm...aha!"

After a few more minutes of searching, Allie had finally found a few things that would (probably) be suitable for Mary. Pulling both items out of their respective drawers, she marched out of her closet triumphantly, one item in each hand.

"How about these?"

Mary looked up from the pile of discarded clothes he'd been absentmindedly examining—all things that hadn't fit either his body, or his style, or both—and smiled.

"I can work with those."

"Good." Allie tossed both items, one leather underbust corset and a pleated skirt (both of them black), to Mary, who eagerly caught them.

"Now, for the rest of your outfit." Allie turned back to the closet, and put her hands on her hips. "I think I think still have those thigh-high boots that Brenda sent me...they're too big for me, but they should fit you."

"Cool," said Mary, already shimmying out of his skinny jeans and into the skirt. "Got a jacket, too? My nips might get cold."

"I should."

 


 

"My feet hurt. Why are we here, again?"

Allie shrugged. "You wanted to come here."

"Right..." Mary folded his arms, and adjusted his stance again, clearly (and understandably) uncomfortable after standing in line for the better part of two hours while wearing his new thigh-high boots.

"My feet hurt."

"You said that already."

Mary whined, and Allie rolled her eyes.

"Look, you're the one who said you didn't want to wear your combat boots. You wanted to wear something of mine. Well, you are. You got exactly what you asked for."

Mary looked her up and down for a moment, as though he were considering saying something to that, but apparently thought better of it, and chose to grumble wordlessly instead.

Allie rolled her eyes again, and let out an inaudible huff of a laugh. What, like it was her fault that her boyfriend had wanted to raid her closet? And had chosen the most impractical things to wear? Instead of picking out something more comfortable, like she had?
(Leather pants, lace-trimmed long-sleeved crop top, and thick-heeled ankle boots, for the style record).

It wasn't her fault that he was currently regretting his decision.

 

They stood there in line for another ten or fifteen minutes, silently.

Allie folded her arms, wondering when the hell the line was going to move again. Mary adjusted the lapels of his borrowed leather blazer, needing to do something with his hands, impatient and still clearly uncomfortable.

Another five minutes went by, then Mary whined again.

Allie sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned to face Mary. "Come here, you big baby."
She crouched down, scooped him up in her arms, and held him bridal-style.

Mary blinked in surprise, apparently having momentarily forgotten just how strong his girlfriend truly was, then grinned. "My feet thank you." He kissed her on the cheek. "How the hell do you even walk in these shoes, anyway? The heels are practically fuckin' microscopic!"

"Shut up," Allie said, successfully silencing Mary with a kiss. "Who is this guy, anyway? You said you really wanted to see his show."

"Some singing vampire. Looks like Dracula."

"Cool. Well, hope his show will be worth your feet hurting for the rest of the night."

Mary snorted. "Yeah, it fuckin' better be!"

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