Wow... Look who's posting after months... yeah... Anyways, Bob velseb on the brain take my faggot slop :3
Summary: Songfic based off of Andrew in Drag by The Magnetic fields
Bob invited you to a club under the impression of him 'preforming', what was he preforming? You had no clue! He didn't tell you!
Words: 1,162
Warnings: Swearing, drag queen Bob i guess
It’s fine, it’s just a silly costume show… It’ll be fine, you definitely and totally won’t stick out like a sore thumb the moment you walk through the front door!... Yeah, totally.
You’d been telling yourself that the whole walk, and it wasn’t making the 5-minute walk feel any less anxiety-inducing. It was just a club; it’s basically impossible to look out of place in a club. Unless it’s one of those themed clubs… God, you really should’ve asked more questions before letting Bob talk you into this.
Well, more like your big fat crush on him. But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was you had NO clue why he had even invited you, or what he meant by ‘proformance’. Last you checked Bob worked at a diner, and while yes, he was very funny, you weren’t sure if that meant he should do something like stand up… Most of his jokes would probably have a by-passer on the street questioning if you were in danger.
You really had to stop letting your dick, or lack thereof, follow this man blindly. It’s going to get you serious trouble some day… Or maybe just humilaite you so bad you turn to the life of hermit.
Personally, you’d take the hermit life right about now.
The neon sign of the club blinked haphazhardly, half of the lights blinking off time with the others. Maybe that was a style choice? Or the owners just couldn’t give less of a shit.
Didn’t matter. You needed to calm down and get your ass in that club, like, now. Bob said he’d be on at around 8pm… Fumbling your phone from your pocket you sigh seeing you have about 15 minutes to compose yourself.
It’ll be fine, it can’t be that bad… You shove your phone back in your pocket, hands nervously patting down your jacket. Maybe you should’ve worn something nicer… But it was chilly, and the few clubs you had been in had all been decently cold. So jacket it was.
You take a deep breath, holding the air in your lungs for an embarrassingly long time. Exhaling the shaky breath you wiggle your hands, giving yourself one last mental pump-up before shoving open the club doors.
Finally walking into the club you can see it’s a lot nicer on the inside than the out, the lights aren’t blinking like a car that just totaled by a deer so that’s a good sign. It’s a lot warmer than you had expected as well, so you hesitantly shove your jacket off while making your way down to find a table.
The club was bustling with patrons, people drinking at the bar and others talking at tables - empty glasses scattered around.
Nervously you swallowed, eyes flickering from the show stage where the band was performing to the people. You shifted in your seat, reaching to check your phone before pausing - a loud eruption of cheers hitting your ears. Your eyes rose, back straightening when you saw the figure on the stage.
It was Bob, but nothing like you’d ever seen before.
Your face burned as you stared, ears barely registering that he was singing.
He wore a fitting, bright red dress, a long slit down one side, the material shimmering when it hit the light. His legs were covered with black, opauqe tights - heels to match. He looked like a dream.
Something only you would’ve dreamed of.
If you had a tail it would’ve wagged, and the way your eyes were locked onto him only fuel the picture of a lovesick puppy. Your face burned red, brain scrambled - melting out of your ears. It didn’t help your situation when Bob turned his gaze to you, the grin he wore growing bigger and his cheeks flushing.
He looked happy, enthusiastic that you had actually showed up… And now you felt silly for ever doubting him.
You had to advert your gaze as his song came to a close, your hand coming to touch the burning skin of your cheek. You’d never blsuhed this much in your whole life, not even when you were in highschool and giggled over shittily written fanfics. But you swore up and down those fics were the best shit you’d ever read, they probably shaped you to be who you were today! - for better or worse.
But now your face burned like a fever, and you felt like a dog who just learned what praise was.
Fuck, maybe you should listen to your dick - lack thereof - more often…
You covered your face with your hands, grumbling under your breath incoherent curses. Everybody in this club, that cared to look, probably thought you looked crazy.
Expect Bob.
You fliched at the graze of his hand on your shoulder, head wiping around to find him stood right behind you. Your eyes grew wider than before, mouth snapping shut before drool fell.
He had makeup on, pretty reds and blacks that had your mind swirling and your stomach sinking. You forced yourself to look away when he laughed, that loud and overbearing laughing that always filled your chest with a fizzle.
“Someone’s gotta starin’ problem..” He teased, hand tighten on your should ever so slightly. “You liked the show, darlin’?”
Of course you did, hell, you loved it. But how could you say that? How were you supposed to say you were even more head over heels for Bob than you were before? You could barely even admit how head over heels you were before all of this… Even though you were pretty sure it was obvious with the way you stared at him on break. Either way, the embarrassment was too much and your stomach felt like it’d just been kicked by a buck.
Quietly you sat, hands nervously fidgeting with one another. Bob chuckle affectionately at your lack of coherent thoughts, his grin wide and warm.
“I’ll take that as a yes~” He murmured, eyes falling lidded as he leaned over your shoulder. “Thank you fer comin’, it means a lot to me.” You could taste the perfume on your tongue from how close Bob was, your hands clenching flusteredly in your lap in response.
“Any time…”
Bob smiled at your shaky words, hand sliding from your shoulder to your upper arm. He gave it a light squeeze, prompting you turn your head up at him. You blinked questioningly, all but freezing like a deer in headlights when his lips touched your cheek.
You could feel the lipstick staining your skin, his lips pressing firmly yet affectionately into your flushed cheek.
When he pulled back you swore your head burst into steam, body so hot it felt like a volcano. He knew, he had known all along - this was just a test. A test to see your reaction, to see how you’d react. And you’d passed with flying colors. Bob grinned, smeared lipstick making him all that much more handsome.
“C’on, I’ll buy ya a drink.”