He was sat on Wesley’s bed, palms placed promptly on his lap, though not without a restless tapping of his fingers against his slacks. He knew that the minute Wesley called asking him to come over and wear a suit, of all things, that they would be going somewhere special. Initially, he thought it would be for his birthday, and while he wasn’t entirely wrong---his surprise, Wesley said, would be given to him by the end of the night, and he still held him to that---the last place he wanted to spend his afternoon would be at an event filled with lawyers and other similar professionals that he was sure he’d feel out of place. But he didn’t have a choice, or he did, just that he couldn’t make the right call, and thus found himself waiting for his former lover in his bedroom as he got dressed.
“Wesley,” he called out, beginning to squirm from where he was seated. “Can I go home and change? I really don’t want to wear this suit. It’s itchy and uncomfortable and I don’t like it,” he said, though he was careful not to whine too much lest the older man be angry with him. (@wescopeland)