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Oct. 24th, 2016 12:05 pmKavinsky stared at the bag for a while. Newt was at school for a little while longer. Kavinsky was done with work for the day, and Beca had said she didn't need him for the evening, so he'd headed home. He'd make dinner, but in a minute. For the moment, he was going to stare at this bag and consider what the hell he was doing.
All the lingerie he'd bought still had the tags on it. The girl at the shop had said that as long as it did, he could still return it. He'd thought about that, a couple times, in fits and starts. But then he thought about the way that Newt looked at him in those modest cotton panties and that grey dress and he thought, it wasn't so bad. He thought, he could do that. Newt would look at him adoringly any way he looked, but it was sort of nice to do something stupid, something silly, and see how it made Newt go wild.
So Kavinsky put on the garter and the stockings, and pulled on the lacy black panties as well. He pulled his jeans on over it, and one of Newt's soft, worn sweaters--a little narrow in the shoulders for him, these days, but comfy and warm.
Just having the lingerie on, he found, was sort of thrilling, and sort of comforting. It was a secret that nobody needed to know about, he realized. It could just be this: wearing them under his clothes, a strange, subtle press of cloth that was totally different than his normal underwear. He put away the bag with the other panties in them, and then he went into the kitchen to start making dinner.
All the lingerie he'd bought still had the tags on it. The girl at the shop had said that as long as it did, he could still return it. He'd thought about that, a couple times, in fits and starts. But then he thought about the way that Newt looked at him in those modest cotton panties and that grey dress and he thought, it wasn't so bad. He thought, he could do that. Newt would look at him adoringly any way he looked, but it was sort of nice to do something stupid, something silly, and see how it made Newt go wild.
So Kavinsky put on the garter and the stockings, and pulled on the lacy black panties as well. He pulled his jeans on over it, and one of Newt's soft, worn sweaters--a little narrow in the shoulders for him, these days, but comfy and warm.
Just having the lingerie on, he found, was sort of thrilling, and sort of comforting. It was a secret that nobody needed to know about, he realized. It could just be this: wearing them under his clothes, a strange, subtle press of cloth that was totally different than his normal underwear. He put away the bag with the other panties in them, and then he went into the kitchen to start making dinner.
