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One more brush, two more brushes…
And done.
Satisfied, Buck put down his brush and admired his handiwork in the mirror. It wasn’t much, just a rainbow flag on his right cheek and a bi flag on his left, both a little smudged around the edges, but he didn’t really care about that.
Today was his first time at Pride as an out and proud bisexual man. And he was gonna dance, and enjoy himself, and march down the street with his very hot, very gay boyfriend holding his hand. Just thinking about it set a flock of butterflies free in his stomach, a nervous smile sneaking onto his face.
He wanted to belong somewhere. Had always wanted to belong somewhere. And yeah, the 118 was his family, where he did belong, but…
This felt different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but it did. Like something that had never made sense about his life had suddenly clicked into place.
He quickly wiped away the tears that had started to pool in his eyes. He just spent the better part of an hour painting (and imperfectly perfecting!) those flags onto his face, he wasn’t gonna ruin them by crying now!
“Hey, babe?” he called out, checking his clothes one more time, giving his reflection a confident nod. He smoothed out his white t-shirt, which was just tight enough to hug his frame exactly the way he liked. It proudly declared ‘I’m Not Gay But My Boyfriend Is’ in front of a rainbow background right over his chest, a level of cheesiness that Tommy had (fondly) rolled his eyes about. “You ready?”
“Yeah, just putting on the finishing touches!”
Fixing his bi pride bracelet on his right wrist, a rainbow one dangling from his left, he stepped out into Tommy’s bedroom.
And froze, his mouth instantly going dry.
Tommy was certainly ready. Ready to get arrested for indecent exposure!
The heavy-looking, black boots he wore went halfway up his calves, and seamlessly transitioned into an impossibly tight pair of leather pants that left nothing to the imagination. If anything, they seemed to accentuate Tommy’s crotch and ass, showing off his assets in a way that made Buck feel a little lightheaded.
In lieu of a shirt, Tommy had strapped a harness to his bare chest that seemed like it was ready to burst at any moment (not unlike how Buck felt right now), with a small Vincian flag painted just above his heart.
Buck had to fight the urge to walk up to Tommy and tear it all off.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, eyes locked onto Tommy as if he was an oasis in the desert. “You’re— I mean— That’s— you look—”
Tommy grinned, utterly unbothered, as he put a leather cap onto his head. “Hot? Yeah, I know.”
Buck let out a strangled noise, trying very hard not to start drooling on the spot. “Is... is that what you meant by ‘finishing touches?’”
“I never said the touches were modest,” Tommy wiggled his brows as he grabbed one of the harness straps, his fingers brushing by his nipple. Buck wondered how he hadn’t fainted yet. “You like?”
Buck’s mouth opened, then closed. His brain seemed to short-circuit entirely, every coherent thought becoming static as his brain turned to absolute mush. His mouth started watering all over again.
“I—uh—’like’ doesn’t really begin to cover it.”
Tommy’s grin stretched even wider. He sauntered closer, hips swaying deliberately, boots thudding with each confident step until he was close enough that Buck could smell the faint hint of cologne under all the leather. “That so, Baby Boy?” he asked playfully, grabbing Buck’s hips to pull him closer.
Heat started blooming up Buck’s neck and across his cheeks. At the same time, he could feel all the blood in his body rushing down south. “You can’t just… like, say things like that,” he muttered, voice slightly strangled, running his hands up Tommy’s (beefy beyond all reason) arms.
Tommy raised a brow, his forehead creased in faux-confusion. “What do you mean? Don’t you like it when Daddy calls you Baby Boy?”
…
…
…
Buck did not whine.
He did not!
“We’re already running late.”
“So we are.”
“Hen and Karen are going to skin us if we’re actually late.”
“Eh, they can cope.” Tommy leaned in, nose brushing Buck’s as his thumbs traced lazy circles into his hips. “They’ll forgive us. Eventually.” His voice dropped an octave. “Probably.”
Buck made a wounded sound that got swallowed when Tommy pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. Just a brush, infuriatingly light. Buck chased after it, but Tommy pulled back with a wicked grin.
“But you’re right, we should probably head out.”
He turned on his heel and stepped away, Buck almost collapsing against the wall. Buck blinked once, then twice.
What.
The.
Fuck.
He wasn’t sure what was worse, the sudden loss of warmth against his body’s every inch, or the fact that he hadn’t gotten his kissy.
“I swear to God,” Buck groaned, pressing his eyes shut and trying to think of dead puppies, “you’re doing this on purpose.”
“Obviously. Now help me find a bag for all the sunscreen I’m gonna need today.”