The Look, The Feel

Written for the 2011 Mag7 Bingo, the prompt is "nightshirt"

Vin yawned and stretched, then rolled carefully onto his back. Monday mornings were a two edged sword for him: he knew he didn't have to work, but his day of rest sometimes had real reasons for needing the rest, and this one was one of those mornings. He liked working with Josiah, liked helping novice couples learn the roles of dominance and submission. There was nothing like the endorphin rush he got from submitting to Josiah, but mornings after had both pleasant memories and residual ache. This morning, though, his body was tired, but not achy, and for that he was grateful.

He lay there a few minutes longer, savoring the comfort of his bed, but at the same time wishing he wasn't alone to enjoy it. He reached out, running his hand over the empty sheet beside him, thinking a moment, then, decision made, slid out of bed, pulled on shorts and a tee shirt, and went to find his missing companion.

Down the hallway, Vin came to Ezra's door, finding it pulled to, but not closed. He rapped gently on the door and waited.

"Come in."

He pushed the door open and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, then turned to Ezra. "I missed you last ni--" Vin stopped, his mouth open, staring. "What are you doing?"

Ezra looked up and switched off the small electric hair clipper. "What does it look like I'm doing? A little personal grooming. You have to know that this perfection," he waved his hand along the length of his naked body, "doesn't happen all on its own."

"And I know that your," Vin grinned, "perfection doesn't include this sort of grooming unless--" he paused a moment. "Ah. Rosemary, right?"

"Indeed." Ezra turned to put away the clipper, then swept up the clippings with a small brush and dust pan. "I see her Wednesday, and I have something new I think she'll like."

Rosemary, Vin knew, was one of the few women clients Ezra saw. She was close to 70, spry and independent, and a few times a year insisted on a handsome man to escort her to a Broadway show.

Vin looked up to see Ezra holding a gauzy white fabric. "What's that?"

Ezra unfolded the fabric, holding the garment by the shoulders. "A nightshirt. What do you think?"

Taking a step forward, Vin reached out to touch it. Soft, sheer, with some green and gold embroidery around the neckline. "Looks like you can see right through it."

"That's the point." Ezra grinned wickedly. "Want to see it on?" Without waiting for an answer, he slid the nightshirt over his head.

Transparency did seem to be the entire point. The fine fabric seemed to cling to Ezra's skin, letting the dark points of his nipples show through, molding itself to the curve of his cock.

"I got one for you, too," Ezra said.


"A nightshirt. I got one for you." Ezra held up another garment of the same soft, sheer fabric, this one with blue and gold embroidery at the neck. "You have no idea how good these feel until you try one."

"If you say so."

"I do say so." Ezra stepped closer to Vin. "So, strip out of those clothes and try it on."

Hesitating for a moment, Vin shrugged. "What the hell, why not." He pulled off his tee shirt and shorts, and slipped into the nightshirt. And damn if Ezra wasn't right. The fabric practically caressed his skin, the feather-like touch bringing a warmth to his groin, and it was easy to understand the appeal, both as wearer and observer.

"Perfect," Ezra said softly.

"You think so?" Vin turned around, showing the garment as if he was on a catwalk. The moment was broken, though, when his back was to Ezra and he heard the sharp intake of breath. He knew what the problem was, and if Ezra couldn't get past this, they could be done as lovers.

Standing with his back still toward Ezra, he looked back over his shoulder. "It doesn't hurt. Touch it." He knew his back was still red and that the marks showed through the light fabric. Raising his hand, Ezra moved closer, and Vin held his breath, not moving, silently urging Ezra to touch. Finally, Ezra's hand was on Vin's back, flat against his shoulder blade, and Vin could feel Ezra's hand trembling.

"It's warm," Ezra whispered, "how can it not hurt?"

Vin leaned back into Ezra's touch. "It just doesn't. I can feel the heat of it, too, but it's a good heat. A remembering heat."

"Remembering?" Ezra's voice was louder, sharper. "Remembering that somebody whipped you?"

"Not somebody. Josiah. And not whipped. I gave my trust to him, knowing that he could find a--" Vin took a deep breath. "I don't have all the words for it. But it's finding something inside me, a special thing that I like to feel sometimes." He turned quickly, taking hold of Ezra's still-raised hand. "And me liking this thing doesn't say anything good or bad about what you and me have."

"I--" Ezra closed his mouth and shook his head.

Vin waited, hoping Ezra would find what he thought he wanted to say, but when nothing more came, Vin tried for him. "You don't understand it. You're scared of it."

"Yes!" Ezra stepped back, and Vin felt the physical and emotional space between them. "Of course, what sane person wouldn't be?"

"Me. Josiah."

Ezra's chuckle broke the tension in the room. "I don't know that you can be sure of Josiah's sanity."

"Maybe not," Vin agreed. He stepped closer to Ezra, taking his hand again. "Nobody's expecting you to do any of this. I don't want that from you. What I would like from you is to let me make my choices and trust that I know what I'm doing." He leaned close enough to brush his lips against Ezra's. "And be there when I come home, since there's nobody else I want in my bed after." He stood still, waiting, knowing Ezra was full of doubts.

Finally, Ezra looked Vin in the eyes and nodded. "I'll be there. I don't understand it, but I do trust you to know what's right for you." His lips twitched in a small smile. "Just don't ever ask me to watch."

"I won't." It was more of a concession than Vin thought he was going to get from Ezra, and he wasn't about to press his luck. "I was going down for breakfast, you done grooming and ready for that?"

Ezra's smile grew broader. "Done enough for now." He looked down at himself. "You think we should change?"

"What for? It's Monday, nobody here but us chickens." Vin looked Ezra up and down admiringly. "Rosemary's going to have a great time getting you out of that."

"And maybe I'll have a great time getting you out of that one."

Vin laughed and started for the door before Ezra tried to convince him to skip breakfast. He was hungry, and if he was going to explore the ins and outs of these nightshirts, he was going to need plenty of energy.