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So stick him in a dress and he's the only boy I'd shag
The only boy I'd anything is Andrew in drag
I'll never see that girl again, he did it as a gag
I'll pine away forevermore for Andrew in drag
“There’s no way.” Robert groaned.
Robert had become more frequent to sleepovers with Alice, Herm and Zahir ever since the night that Robert got insanely drunk. Said sleepovers now came with Zahir cooking for everybody, Herm talking a lot about his grandma and her cats and Prism showing off new products that she got with brand deals.
Said brand deals often included a lot of makeup.
This made sense. Prism’s persona was a part time beauty influencer. Zahir was usually the one to test her makeup looks, with Herm testing out any waterproof products. What didn’t make sense was her asking Robert.
Like, Robert Robertson the Third kind of Robert.
“Uh, yes way!” Alice said before shoving him to the bathroom. “You better get your ass in my bathroom, Mr. Dispatcher, I have a dress for you too.”
“I didn’t sign up for this!” Robert reminded them.
Zahir had started the night with cooking in the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner was a casual chicken rice combo that he stood by—the movie on the TV was the start of the Tinker Bell series, since Moska had demanded that he start the series to better roleplay with her. Herm had shrugged whenever Zahir looked at him as Alice dragged him off, and he doubted that Herm knew either.
It wasn’t very long since Robert and Alice had left, Zahir trying his best to dry off what water was in Herm’s hair, when they came out together.
“I got you a present bae!” Alice shouted as she ran up behind them, shaking the man by his shoulders excitedly. “You’re gonna be so excited about this.”
“I am?” Zahir asked before blinking over at the door.
His jaw dropped. Like, physically dropped.
Robert had been forced into a shoulderless, silk blue dress with ruffles at the bottom that made it look like it was made out of a table cloth. Zahir wasn’t entirely clear on how he should describe the dress—he was more focused on how it looked on Robert. It looked good. Great. Dare Zahir say the best dress he’d ever seen. From a completely unbiased standpoint, of course. There was no bias whatsoever in his view.
And the makeup? God the makeup. Robert’s eyes fit eyeliner so well—the brown of them brought out even more by the blue that Alice put on his lids. He was wearing the cherry-flavored lipsticks that Alice got about once a month from her favorite brand, and Zahir wanted nothing more than to know what cherry tasted like when it was coming from Robert’s lips. Would it taste good? Would it taste like cherry, or would everything be so Robert that he couldn’t tell?
“This is very funny Alice. Laugh it up.” Robert groaned before sighing and resting his hands on his hips.
Alice was laughing at Zahir, that he knew, but he was trying so hard not to explode into flames that he couldn’t be bothered to comment on her laughing.
“You look good!” Herm smiled and clapped happily. “I really like it– that– the dress looks nice. On you.”
Robert sighed before looking down. Zahir’s eyes were still tracking over detail after detail of the silk, how it folded against the curves of his skin. “I’ll admit it’s a nice blue. But I really don’t like this dress on me.” he said, his eyes looking up at Zahir. “What do you think?”
Zahir blinked. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Robert snorted. “Speechless?”
“Yeah.” Zahir murmured. He couldn’t stop himself, nor could he muster up any embarrassment—even if he could hear Alice cackling and Herm giggling at his expense. He watched as Robert groaned and walked back to the bathroom again, trying his best to clear his thoughts. It wasn’t responsible to say that he missed him already. He didn’t. Robert looked, well, he looked good! Okay? He looked good.
Yet Zahir found his heart pounding at the sight. He felt like he would give up literally anything for that man—even his precious Firebird.
“Oh bae, you’re lost.” Alice snorted at him.
He so was. And wasn’t that an insane thought?