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Frank’s been running around his small studio apartment to get ready for his date with Trinity, who’s currently sitting on his couch, watching with an amused smile on her face.
“You’re overthinking, Frankie. It’s not some fancy restaurant, it’s… a budget friendly place around the corner,” she says to try and cheer him up. “You look fine, dude” she adds more bluntly when the other woman doesn’t listen to a word she said, still pacing around, changing into various outfits.
“That doesn’t mean I look good,” he replies, coming to a standstill in between her legs on the couch. Trinity stands up to take his hands into hers, lean up onto her tippy toes and give a quick peck to his cheek. “I think you’re perfect,” she whispers.
They stand there and hold each other for a few moments before Trinity says, muffled by her face buried in his torso, “Can you try to finish getting ready so we can go? The sooner we have our date the sooner I can have you in my apartment.” Frank blushes, knowing all too well what Trinity likes to do to end their dates.
Frank just nods, walking off back into his room. She can sense his frustration just by the way that he walks. Trinity rolls her eyes at him, what a diva.
While Frank continues to search for something he can wear, Trinity remains out on the couch, scrolling through social media on her phone. However she starts to hear sobs through the closed bedroom door and she’s on her feet in an instant to get to the room.
Pushing the door open, announcing she’s coming in, Trinity creeps in slowly. Upon seeing Frank sitting with his entire closet piled around him and crying, she rushes over to kneel at his side. “Hey, hey. It’s okay— what’s wrong? Talk to me Frankie,” she pleads, reaching out to hold both of his arms.
Tears run down his cheeks, his mouth opening as if to give a response but thinking better do it. “I can’t—“ he cuts himself off with a sob.
“You can’t, what? Take your time it’s okay,” she whispers, bringing her hands up to use her thumbs to wipe away at his tears, fingers lingering on his skin.
In that same moment, Frank throws himself at the woman kneeling beside him, wailing now. “I look awful, nothing fits right, Trin!” Catching Frank easily, her arms wrap around him to give him a hug, burying her face in his shoulder.
She tries not to get too emotional herself, thinking about how insecure her girlfriend must feel to react this way over a date they won’t even stay for long knowing the plan is to mostly cuddle and mess around in Trinity’s bed with a movie in the background they can pretend to watch.
“You do not look awful, Frankie,” she’s stern, voice muffled from being against his shoulder.
“You’re so pretty, I could stare at this face all day,” she coos, pulling up and looking at him right in the eyes.
She lands a gentle kiss on his lips before saying “Let’s make this easier,I’ll give you some options!” The woman sounds genuinely excited, like she’s been waiting for the opportunity to dress her girlfriend up.
Trinity gives Frank a small, encouraging smile, holding his face in her hands. “First things first, can you take some deep breaths?” she asks, taking in a few herself as a demonstration. They spend a few minutes just breathing and thankfully Trinity’s goal of calming Frank down worked enough to where he’s not actively crying anymore.
Her hands slide down from his face to his shoulders, making their way down to his hips. “Now, let’s get you clothes,” she says, rising up off of the clothes covered floor and taking Frank’s hand to pull him up.
She excitedly leads him over to his dresser, pulling open the first drawer and going through whatever’s left. Clearly whatever’s on the floor is either tried on and disliked, or such a firm no he’s thrown it there like a toddler having a temper tantrum.
Trinity herself ends up pulling all sorts of shirts, pants, and even a few skirts just for them to all end up on a pile by her feet on the floor. She makes it a point to talk through her thought process, and what kind of look she wants to have Frank try, it becoming grounding for him and a pleasant background noise even if he is zoning out.
“Y’know, you have great taste. You always dress super cute,” she compliments him absentmindedly while she closes the drawer and opens another just to repeat the process while Frank stands there quietly, fidgeting with his fingers and listening to the sound of clothes being sorted through.
Smiling to herself, Trinity pulls out a black miniskirt and holds it up against Frank’s waist. The older man frowns and simply says “I have a dick, Trin.” Seeing his reaction she just tosses it onto the bed along with who knows what else, laughing at the deadpan comment.
“You know It’s just a date,” she says, still facing Langdon and moving closer to him. Trinity’s hands find his waist, her fingers linger at the waistband of his boxers, skimming over his skin.
“Just us, no one else matters… and you know I don’t care what you wear,” the younger woman tries to explain.
“Just us with some nice dinner in a place where we’ll definitely be the hottest people there.” Frank feels his cheeks flush at the statement, not really knowing what to do with the compliment.
Giving Frank a quick kiss on the cheek again, Trinity smiles against his skin, the soft touch against his neck making him just blush brighter. She turns around to continue sorting through clothes, this time Frank’s wardrobe, her eyes scanning the hangers as she talks.
“Come on, you’ve always loved going out for dinner,” she says, her hands moving more quickly now as she pulls out items.
“Remember that Italian place we went to last month? The one with the really great wine and the super hot waiter.” She glances over her shoulder at Frank with a playful smirk.
Frank laughs through another sniffle while Trinity finds something she’d love to get Frank into. Hopefully he doesn’t mind. She whips around to face him, holding up an above the knee skirt. It’s not pleated, it’s more of a pencil skirt and would be quite nice for their date at the Mexican restaurant they’re heading to.
Then Trinity holds it up against him, thinking he definitely has the legs for it.
“I would love it if you wore this tonight, Frankie,” she smiles up at him with big, beady, pleading eyes except it doesn’t come across as an ask; she’s telling him.
“Yeah, okay” he whispers, taking the skirt in his hands and holding onto it. She hands him some shorts and a few choices of underwear too.
Trinity grins triumphantly, proud of herself for finally finding the right article of clothing. She gives him a little pat on the hip before going back to the dresser, pulling the third drawer open. This one is full of tops; blouses, t-shirts and crop tops. She starts digging through the chaos, her brow furrowing in concentration as she hunts for the perfect top to match the skirt.
After a few moments of rummaging, Trinity exclaims “a-ha! You’ll love this, Frankie,” and pulls a shirt out. She turns to Frank, holding up a soft, form-fitting short sleeved black blouse that leaves his arms on show.
It would definitely hug the growing curves of Frank’s body. Oestrogen be damned, the fat redistribution just filled him out and Trinity can’t get enough off it. Frank feels like his face is on fire from the outfit she’s put together, he’s bright red and hides his face in his hands.
Trinity can’t help but smirk at his bashfulness. She steps closer, holding both the top and skirt against the older woman. “You’re gorgeous,” she says softly, her eyes running up and down the outfit. “Anyone who even thinks otherwise is a liar.”
“I’ll just… try it on…” he replies simply, with a solemn nod.
Trinity’s face twists up into a real smile at the nod, excited to see how he’ll look. He’s never left the house in a skirt and she knows how insecure he can get over wearing them. She hands over the shirt and skirt, her fingers lingering against his until he’s the one to pull away, scurrying off to go and get changed.
“Good,” she says, her voice almost a purr. She steps back, giving him a little space. “Go on, then. Let me see.”
She leans against the dresser, crossing her arms as she waits with a look of anticipation.
Coming out of the bathroom, around five minutes later, he stands in front of her awkwardly, pulling at his top in every which direction. They just never seem to fit him, neither men’s or women’s clothes. All that goes through his head is he shouldn’t wear it, after all he’s not really a woman.
The younger woman scrutinises his movements silently, her eyes following every fidget and adjustment. She can tell he's not very comfortable, knows he hates how clothes never seem to flatter his figure, no matter what size he gets or which section they’re from.
“Stop,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the silence. Her eyes remain fixed on the shirt, but her hands reach out to still Frank’s, causing him to look down at his feet to avoid any eye contact.
“Does it look okay?” he asks, shuffling about on his feet.
“Oh yeah it does but if it’s uncomfortable there’s no point you wearing it,” she replies curtly, mostly wanting to get out and actually enjoy their night rather than let her girlfriend wallow in her dysphoria.
Frank thinks about it for a moment, lips moving side to side in contemplation. Then he goes to stand in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Something that he hasn't been able to feel in a long time is recognition, unable to associate the person staring back at him as him.
But now, dressed in a way that shows him off, with a gorgeous supportive girlfriend behind him, he feels like himself. Trinity lets Frank have his moment, mulling it over whether it’s what he wants to wear while she starts putting back as much of the mess as possible.
After around five minutes, she’s finished up and notices that Frank hasn’t moved from where he’s standing. “Something’s missing,” he says, feeling Trinity’s eyes on him.
She walks back over to the centre of the room, hands running over his bare arms. “I think it would look better if a few buttons were undone,” she suggests, fingers moving to undo the top three.
It was entirely self-indulgent on her behalf, being a woman who’s into boobs more than anything else and will absolutely spend the night looking at Frank’s developing breasts. The hem sits just above his waist, creating a beautiful silhouette.
“Is this okay?”
You can practically hear Frank gulp as he nods. “I— Uhh— Yeah that’s okay. I think I’m ready then.”
Trinity grins from ear to ear, happy they’re finally about to go on their date and have a good night. Mostly because she can’t wait to go back to her apartment and have her way with her girlfriend.
“Great! I left my boots here the other week, they would definitely go with this. Plus they’re comfortable,” she states as she makes her way out of Frank’s room and down the hall to the opposite end near the front door.
She finds her boots in the shoe rack, taking them out to present to Frank who’s been trailing behind her. Frank nods so she hands the older woman the boots and puts her own shoes on.
Before leaving, he takes one last look in the mirror. He feels ridiculous. He’s trying to be less bothered, trying to embrace his identity and be himself but it’s a neverending battle. He thinks he should grow his hair out… maybe one day. Yeah that would be nice, he thinks. Trinity could help improve his makeup too.
From the hallway with her shoes and jacket on, her purse in hand, Trinity calls out, “Come on Frankie, we’re gonna be late!”
It takes her away from her wandering thoughts again but she immediately makes her way back to the hall.
When Frank joins her, she doesn’t comment on the obvious nervousness. Instead her eyes rake over him, smiling up at him with those kind eyes, “You look great, Fran.”
Frank blushes, mutters, “I’m ready,” and Trinity opens the door. She ushers Frank out first, giving her ass a playful squeeze on the way. It makes him squeak out, “Hey! Hands to yourself, Trin!” That earns a cocky laugh from Trinity as she locks the door behind them, putting Frank’s keys in her purse.