Damien: smart clothesMature

"So where are we going?" I ask, lounging around on the bed, pretending to contemplate what to wear. What I was really doing was recovering from the shower sex. What can I say? It's been a while.

"That kind of posh place near where I work?"

"Only downside to that being I don't have anything even vaguely smart to wear."

"You can borrow something of mine," he smiles.

"In case you hadn't noticed, since I've been near enough clean, I've kind of put on some weight," I chuckle, prodding my belly. I'll admit I'm not quite a healthy weight yet, but I'm definitely fatter than Kyle, and I'd outgrown most of my own clothes.

"I'm sure I can find something that'll fit," he says, smiling a little more. I look at him, giving him the curious face. He's a fucking skeleton, how's he gonna find something that will fit me?

"What?" he chuckles.

"How're you gonna find something for old chubsy over here?"

"You're not so chubsy," he says, starting to look through his clothes. I just lay there prodding my stomach, unconvinced. He comes back over with a shirt and tells me to try it. I sit up, pulling it on, still not convinced. It already feels a little on the tight side without attempting to do it up. Kyle looks all thoughtful and goes off in search of another. "This is way too big for me so it should fit," he tells me, coming back with a new shirt. I slide it on, both of us smiling as it fits me perfectly.

He gets dressed too as I tug on a pair of black skinny jeans, hoping that it won't look too casual for the place Kyle's thinking of. In an attempt to make up for the jeans just in case, I look for a smart-ish jacket or something to go over the shirt, but I don't seem to have anything. I try to ignore Kyle's amused face as I search through my new clothes, ‘cause c'mon, I must've picked up something semi smart. He laughs a little as I get kind of irritated at myself for not thinking to get anything nice for things like this.

"You look smart enough like that, gorgeous," he says, but I'm not convinced about that. "You're smart enough for me." I smile. Just as well I am, really, ‘cause it doesn't look like there's much we can really do about it.

"Ready to go then?" I nod. I'm as ready as I'll ever be, anyways. I don't do posh places. If it's anything classier than KFC, I tend to have a mini freak out, because I get all paranoid about what people will think of me there.

He takes my hand and I give it a tiny squeeze. You have no idea how glad I am to have him back.


When we get there, I begin to feel that mini freak up building inside of me. It's even more posh than I remember it being. Fuck. Kyle gets us a table for two, and I can't help but notice that a couple people are already kind of glaring at us. I can't tell if it's because we're clearly a couple, or because I look so out of place.

I try to ignore them, as does Kyle, who holds my hand once we're sat down. I hold it just that tiny little bit too tight, betraying just how out of place I feel here. He doesn't seem to mind, though, so I don't really relax my grip.

"Don't worry about spending too much, this is my treat," he smiles, and I smile back, pulling a menu towards us. We both look at what they have to offer, and I sort of just stare at it. It's all French, and I don't understand a single word on it. Kyle notices this, apparently and helps me out. I feel my cheeks heat up a little at that. He smiles again, not taking too long to pick what he wants. I end up choosing the same as him, simply because I still didn't really know what much of the stuff on there is, and if I'm honest, not a huge amount of it sounded especially appetising.

I look up from the menu to look around at the restaurant, and really wish I hadn't about half a second later. A woman at the table next to ours is giving us that sort of glare, and I feel my cheeks redden again, catching a glimpse of Kyle glaring right back at her as I fix my eyes on the corner of the table cloth. 


The End

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