Shane ditched the bling in the prop closet, but keeps the outfit on all day – he kinda likes the way heads turn and gazes follow him as he walks through the office. Feels powerful, a bit like when Ryann and Fernando made him wear heels.
Actually, now that he thinks about it, this outfit would be incredible with heels. He can picture the sharp cut of the suit, the jut of his ankle, a tall, pointy stiletto. It feels a bit stupid for work – now that he doesn’t have the excuse of a video, so he keeps the image filed away in his mind and tries to keep working.
This might be why he jumps at the invitation for drinks after work. If he’s honest with himself he doesn’t want to go back home alone and change into sweats. He wants to keep feeling powerful and handsome, and gorgeous. The novelty of the feeling is dizzying.
So he texts Ryann, you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of heels laying around, wouldn’t you?
Ryann asks a lot of questions like what are you wearing and where are you going and it would feel like an interrogation if Shane wasn’t almost vibrating at the thought of putting on heels again. He knows Ryann wants to come up with the best pair of shoes for Shane and he’s so grateful for that.
After half an hour where Shane has been uselessly fidgeting at his desk without getting any work done, Ryann finally walks up to him with a shoe box. Shane is grateful most people already left – he kinda wants it to be a surprise.
Nice white pumps – perfect to pair with the blue suit – and high. Shane can already tell he’s gonna be at least as tall as Garrett in these and he represses a shiver as he slides his feet into them.
It takes less than a few minutes to get used to them, this time around.
“You’re a natural,” Ryann says, pulling his phone out to film it.
“Can you – can you wait for tomorrow to post it? I kinda want it to be a surprise.” He doesn’t know why. He knows that for some reason, tonight he wants all eyes on him, even though on any other day he’d rather crawl into bed and watch Frasier. Maybe it’s the rush of the Ferrari going to his head. He thought he was above that kind of thing.
“Of course baby,” Ryann says, and films him as he struts up and down the empty hallway.
Shane walks into the bar, and sees everything and everyone, as he’s at least a head taller than all of them. He spots his colleagues at the back, crowded around two long tables, and is delighted to see that someone invited Zach, Keith, Ned and Eugene. He hasn’t seen them in a while – not since they left, actually, cause life is just that goddamn busy – and they’re always good party value.
Keith is the first one he reaches and he really plays up the wow you’re so tall bit, since they’re usually pretty much eye-level. They make a bit of small talk before Ned walks up to them, standing straighter as if it could help him be not so small next to them, and Shane congratulates him on the baby and the house and the company, even though he already did all that on social media before.
Next is Zach, complimenting his ‘hot ankles’, whatever that is, and deadpan asking him if he could climb him.
“Maybe later,” Shane jokes, as he feels a heavy gaze pulling at him from the back of the room.
He turns to see Eugene, his back to the wall, hands in his pockets, looking Shane up and down insistently. Shane pretends not to see him. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to let Eugene come to him. Knows they’ll both enjoy the game.
He turns to greet a few more people, go up to the bar to grab beers with Ryan – who of course cracks more than a few tall jokes – all the while acutely aware of Eugene’s gaze following him. Shane gets a tingle at the base of his spine, the urge to make something happen, anything.
He leans against the wall near their tables, on the opposite side from Eugene, pretending to be engrossed in conversations around him, while actually being finely attuned to each of Eugene’s moves.
People still come up to greet him, still compliment him on his look, heads still turn, but somehow all the other looks stop mattering when Eugene looks.
A predatory stalk, that’s what it looks like when Eugene finally makes his move. He doesn’t stop until he’s almost flush with Shane’s chest, on his tiptoes – and Eugene doesn’t usually tiptoe for anyone.
“You look like you’re about to ruin my life.”
“You look like you’re okay with it.”
Eugene doesn’t answer. He just smirks and nods, fingers curling into Shane’s belt loops.
Neither of them talk much from that point on. A quick slip through the crowd and out the bar. A frantic discovering in the alley while they wait for the Uber. A breathless “Yeah?” and a hungry nod enough to know they’re on the same page.
Strained looks and subtle pawing in the Uber, and suddenly at last, they tumble through Eugene’s front door.
“You look like you’re about to ruin my throat.”
Eugene is already on his knees.
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