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They went to the nearby club this friday instead of staying home because… Miles wanted to try on his new skirt he bought. Waylon tried not to question much that Miles did, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t wear the skirt at home or just out to the park or something.
Waylon realized why when Miles came out of their room with the shortest skirt he’s ever seen on. Waylon hoped Miles had underwear on under it.
Miles looked at Waylon with a proud look, posing a bit to model his choice. He was wearing a short, free flowing black skirt, a casual black Twenty One Pilots tee, and a suit jacket. He was also sporting some strappy black high heels, maybe two inches tall? Waylon couldn’t nail down what it was about the outfit he loved, but he was glad he agreed to go clubbing.
Miles looked at Waylon’s simple jeans and navy ‘Make Mistakes’ tee shirt with slight annoyance. Miles knew he would be the one making Waylon look good.
The height difference between the two had never been so apparent, but this was overall a confidence booster for Miles.
“C’mon!” Miles whined as he dragged Waylon towards the door. “We don’t wanna be there when everyone’s drunk already.” Waylon stood a little taller, looking at Miles’ skirt with a confused look. “The skirt is short on purpose, don’t worry.” Miles said calmly. Waylon looked a bit closer at his face. Was he wearing eyeliner? Waylon didn’t know if he could handle Miles like this. If he saw anyone flirting with Miles… Oh God he’d get so jealous and pull Miles somewhere secluded and… Well those were thoughts for another day.
Miles pulled Waylon out the door towards Waylon’s car, seeing how Waylon was the designated driver that night. Waylon thought it best that he wouldn’t get drunk until he got home anyway.
Once they arrived at the club (dubbed the Mount Massive Club) at around 11, it was pretty bustling. But of course, with Miles’ chosen outfit they both got in with no problem. Thank god Miles had a great ass. They tried to stay together as long as they could as Miles got more and more drunk, but soon Waylon got separated by a crowd on the dance floor.
Waylon spent a bit trying to search for Miles, to no avail. He decided to just sit at the bar for a bit, eventually Miles would come back.
And come back he did. Completely hammered and followed by a group of deadbeats, but he was back. Waylon watched for a bit to see what was happening, but really, it was evident from the second they came over to the bar. Miles had a disgusted look on his face as the group of guys continued to stare at his ass, one in particular bothering you. He kept gesturing to Miles’ chest, probably noticing he didn’t have big boobs like he probably wanted. Waylon decided he wanted to intervene and leave with Miles in tow. Waylon approached the group.
Miles looked much more than relieved when Waylon came in between him and the rest, Miles giving a small smile to the man before he turned to face the others.
“C’mon, get moving. We-” Waylon gestured to him and Miles, “are leaving. Goodbye.” Waylon gave a little wave as he pulled Miles towards the exit, Miles now confidently striding beside you. Sadly, one of the men roughly grasped Miles’ arm, causing him to be pulled away from Waylon deeper into the club.
“You’re not leaving yet, baby. You’re a beautiful woman, you know? You can’t just leave the men here waiting.” The man says with a shit-eating grin, putting his hand on Miles’ arm. He snarls.
“I’m not a woman, you fuckface. Now get the fuck out of my way.” Miles says, shoving the man a few steps back. He looks at Miles angrily, spitting on his shoes.
“You whore. Of course you’d fuck anyone else but me. We could’ve been beautiful!” The man yells, even though they were a mere foot apart. Miles rips the man’s hand off of his arm, turning to walk back to Waylon.
“I don’t even know your name, you fucking lunatic!” Miles yells back as he searches frantically for Waylon. Miles decided to just get as far away from him as he could, as no good could come from being near that man. Soon, Miles spotted Waylon again.
Waylon was standing near the exit, arms wrapped around his sides and a concerned look on his face. Miles all but threw himself towards Waylon, lacing their fingers together. Waylon was relieved that Miles was okay, but the look on Miles’ face was enough to put Waylon on edge. Miles turned towards the bustling crowd as the man reappeared. Miles turned to Waylon frantically, blubbering something before it finally became clear what he was saying.
“Way, you gotta punch him! Punch him!” Miles seemed terrified, gripping Waylon’s arm tight. Even if Miles was wrong, it’s be better to be safe and banned from this place than put in danger and have Miles suggest this place again. Waylon approached the man.
As Waylon approached the man, he saw why Miles wanted him to punch the man. He was greasy, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. He looked like he hadn’t changed out of his stained and wrinkled suit in weeks. Waylon’s face crinkled in disgust.
Waylon approached the man, his hands curling into fists. The man raises his hands defensively and opens his mouth, but before he could say anything Waylon wound his fist back and hit him square in the nose. Waylon turned back towards a shocked Miles and pulled him out of the club before they could be kicked out.
As Waylon started his car and buckled Miles in, he checked the time. 2:47 AM. At least this time they stayed longer than an hour before Miles got sexually harassed. It wasn’t his fault of course, but it was tiring how many assholes there were in the world. Waylon drove for a few minutes before Miles dazedly spoke up.
“I uh… Didn’t know you could punch like that, Way.” Miles murmured. “I was thinkin’ he’d go away if you punched him. He seemed like a real masochist, y’know? Gotta assert dominance over him to show ‘em you’re the alpha n’ all that.” Waylon glanced over to Miles to see him staring drunkenly at him with admiration in his eyes. Waylon blushed, trying to keep his eyes on the road.
“Yeah, I didn’t know I could do that either.” A pause. Waylon continues. “Again, why did I have to punch that guy?” Waylon hears Miles laugh, a deep beautiful noise, echoing around the silent car.
“I think he wanted to fuck me, whether I had a dick or not. If I punched him when he took me away…” Miles got a bit quiet at that point, not wanting to think of what could have happened.
Finally, they arrived home. Waylon turned off the car, facing Miles. Miles gave him a tired look, leaning over and intertwining their fingers.
At that moment, Waylon felt an immense wave of love come over him, his heart feeling like it was about to burst. This beautiful man in his car right now was his boyfriend! This gorgeous man was clasping his hand in Waylon’s lovingly, gazing at him with a look of need. This man was his and Waylon in return was his. They briefly unclasped their hands and exited the car.
Once they got inside, they immediately stripped out of their cigarette-smelling clothes and fell asleep tangled in their bed.
The next morning was hell on earth with Miles’ hangover, but Waylon stayed by his side. They always had and they always will. Both Waylon and Miles knew there would be no going back on each other, especially after all they’ve been through.
There would be no going back after all they’ve lost, after all they’ve gained.
They loved each other, and that was all that mattered.