Treat Me Like a Lady

Author's Note:

This is a bit of a slow one I'm afraid.

It's a cute little romantic comedy between an egg (a trans girl who still thinks she's a regular guy) and a bisexual cis guy. There's no sex until the end, and that scene is... the girl getting facefucked by the guy in a pretty objectifying way. But don't worry: she loves it.

Hopefully you will too!

___________________________________________

I liked making lattes. My favorite part was drawing the little designs in the foam. Tulips, and rosettes, and hearts. A lot of hearts today, because it was Valentine's Day.

Fuck Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day was the most bullshit, unfair, lopsided holiday ever. As if modern romance wasn't already bad enough, Valentine's Day took that dynamic and cranked it to one hundred. Men were expected to do everything. Plan a date, buy chocolate and flowers, pay for dinner, and treat their women like princesses. You couldn't miss a single step, or you clearly didn't care about the relationship. But you couldn't be cliche either, because then your heart wasn't in it. Everything had to be perfect, and spontaneous, and you couldn't fuck up even for a second. The amount of expectations placed on men was ridiculous. How was I supposed to live up to that?

I mean, not that it had ever actually been an issue. No girl had ever gone out with me, let alone on Valentine's Day. And it's not like I hadn't tried. Back in high school I spent hours searching through Valentine's cards, trying to find the perfect one, write the perfect message, pick the perfect girl who might actually give me a chance. All I ever got was rejection. I remember eagerly watching my crush read the hand-made card I left in her locker, and the way her face fell with disappointment when she realized it was from me. When I cried to my grandma about it later that day, she explained that it was just the way of the world. Women had certain expectations for the type of men they want to be with, and short, weedy, nerdy little Emmett Garcia didn't live up to them.

But I had a job to do, so here I was on Valentine's Day, at Gold Medal Cafe, drawing hearts in the latte art for happy couples to coo over together. It wasn't so bad, as long as...

"Garcia!" my manager, Oscar, barked at me from the cash register, "A customer needs your expertise."

I groaned internally. That only ever meant one thing. Sure enough, when I trudged over from the coffee machine, I saw the customer in question was a gorgeous Latina, impatiently checking her phone as she waited for service.

I opened my mouth to complain, but Oscar was already moving on. No matter how many times I told him I couldn't speak Spanish, he refused to listen. I was Latino, and therefore I must be fluent, and therefore it was my job to handle any customer who wanted to order en Español. Or en Portuguese, since Oscar couldn't tell the difference.

My hands were already sweating as I summoned the courage to speak.

"Um, hola," I started lamely, "Que cafe te gusta?"

The lady looked up at me sharply, clearly appalled by my botched pronunciation. She was extremely pretty, which didn't help how embarrassed I felt.

"The fuck was that?" she said, in lightly accented English, "I'll just have a latte. Grande, That means big, by the way."

"Yes ma'am," I bowed my head, cheeks burning, and fumbled for the register to input her order. Fucking Oscar! Had she even tried to order in Spanish in the first place, or did he just take one look at her and assume?

The customer sighed, and held out a handful of bills for me. I took it meekly and hesitated. She was really pretty, and she was all alone on Valentine' Day, and she seemed upset about it. Should I... should I ask her out?

I knew I should. I would be stupid to pass up the opportunity with a girl this pretty, even if it was a long shot. I took a shaky breath and asked, "Hey, um, w-would you maybe want to, um, get coffee sometime?"

She looked at me with disgust, "Yeah buddy, that's why I'm here."

"R-right," I blushed, then I hit the wrong button on the register and it let out an angry beep and locked up.

"For fuck's sake," she groaned, "Can anything go right today?"

"Sorry!" I squeaked, frantically trying to fix my mistake and almost dropping her money all over the floor in the process, "I'll just try and--"

I felt a firm, comforting hand on my shoulder and a deep, warm voice said, "I got this. Buenos dias, chica. Can I help you?"

"Oh!" the lady perked up and smiled over my shoulder, "You sure can."

I sighed and stepped away, letting Tony take over.

"Hold up, Emmett," he said, and held out his hand.

"Oh, right," I said, and handed him the money.

He picked up smoothly, fixing the register in an instant and casually flirting with the customer in Spanish until she was blushing and giggling. Typical.

Tony Pérez was everything I wasn't. Tall, muscular, classically handsome. Looking at him, you would think he was a model or a professional athlete, but he was just a college student like me. Except that he was nothing like me. Tony was confident and easy-going and seemed to always be in control of the situation. He was exactly the type of guy my grandma wanted me to be, except for the fact he was bisexual. It wasn't just the female customers he flirted with, I had seen him get more than a few numbers from guys, too. Everyone loved Tony. To be honest, I really envied him. Besides the whole dating guys thing, obviously.

Tony finished up with the customer and handed her the receipt. She scribbled her number and handed it back to him with a grin. I shook my head and started making her coffee. No latte art for her.

Ugh, fine. I gave her a boring rosette just to be professional. When I handed her the coffee, she gave me a dirty look, like I was a gross little bug or something.

I scowled and turned back to Tony.

"I fucking love Valentine's Day, dude," he said.

I blinked, "What?"

"It's so cute," he said, beaming out at the cafe full of happy couples on cute coffee dates, "Everyone's so happy and in love. It's nice to see."

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled, "Everything's so easy for you."

He frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Girls love you!" I blurted out, "You're so tall and hot and confident. You can just take anyone you want! It's not easy for guys like me."

"Hey, don't say that," he said, "I'm sure tons of girls are into you."

"Yeah right," I said, "I've never even been on a date."

Tony's jaw dropped, "Really?"

"Yes?" I huffed, "Obviously. Look at me. I'm a fucking shrimp. I have a weak jaw, and a negative canthal tilt, and I get all stupid and nervous when I talk to hot girls. That customer was looking at me like I was shit on her shoe."

"You've really never been on a date?" Tony said.

"Sure, just rub it in," I muttered.

"Sorry, it's just... hard to believe," he said, "I dunno what a negative cantalope is, but you're cute, dude. Lots of girls are into short guys."

"Maybe," I said bitterly, "But I would still have to ask them out without turning into a fucking mess. God, I wish just once someone would ask me out for a change."

"Okay," Tony grinned, "Emmett, will you be my Valentine?"

I jumped, for real actually jumped, like I had been shocked.

"What?" I said.

"I'm serious," Tony said, "You're cute. I like talking to you. I'm not doing anything tonight. Let's go out."

My face felt all hot, and my stupid hands were shaking again. Tony Pérez was actually asking me out? Me?

"W-what about that girl who just gave you her number?"

Tony snorted, "The one who was treating you like shit? Fuck her." He screwed up the receipt and tossed it in the trash pipe, then looked back at me expectantly, "So, how about it? Will you be my Valentine?"

"Um," I blushed. Obviously I didn't want to be a guy's Valentine. Obviously. I opened my mouth to respond, trying to stop my lips from trembling, but then Oscar popped his head out from the storeroom and spotted us.

"Hey!" Oscar snapped, "Garcia, Perez, back to work!"

"Sorry, boss," Tony waved languidly. Oscar rolled his eyes and ducked away again.

I got back to work, feeling slightly dizzy. Luckily, I didn't have to do much thinking. With Tony on the register, I didn't have to worry about talking to people and could just focus on making the coffees they asked for, the way I liked it. Tony welcomed the next customer, a burly white guy with a beard, and within a few moments had him blushing and giggling just like the last one.

He really wanted to spend his Valentine's Day with me? Sure, it was out of pity, but still, something about it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Tony asked me on a date. He asked me, without me even having to do anything to deserve it!

It was only a couple of minutes later that I remembered the big problem with that.

"Tony," I hissed. He looked up from the register, concerned, "I'm not gay."

"What?" Tony laughed.

"I'm not gay!" I said firmly, "So this date better just be as friends, okay? Because I'm not going to, y'know..."

Tony covered his grin behind his hand, "Jeez Emmett, it's only a first date. Don't get too excited."

I blushed bright red and his face softened, "For real, dude, it's cool. Just as friends, I got it."

"Okay," I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea. "Sorry, I know you probably have actual dates you could be going on..."

"Hey," Tony pointed at me seriously, "You already promised you'd be my Valentine. Don't try and back out of it now."

"Okay," I blushed.

"Perfect," said Tony, "I'll pick you up at six."

"Okay," I said again. Why was I so tongue-tied?

"It's a date," Tony grinned.

The next few hearts I drew came out a little shaky, but for some stupid reason I couldn't stop smiling for the rest of my shift. I had a date!

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.

***

"You have a date?" Gigi squealed. She jumped up off the couch and clapped her hands excitedly, "Oh my god Em! That's so exciting!"

"No!" I protested, "Gigi, it's not like that!"

It was too late. My roommate was already springing around the apartment excitedly, "This is so great, Em! I knew you would find a girl out there who would see how amazing you are. Oh shit, it's Valentine's Day too! That's so cute, Em, but it's gonna be so hard to get a table anywhere. Maybe you could go for a picnic, or--"

"Gigi!" I grabbed her by the wrist, nearly getting yanked off my feet in the process. God, I really needed to start going to the gym or something. "I'm serious, it's not like that. It's just as friends."

"Okay, okay," Gigi settled down, but she was still grinning widely, "Just as friends, sure. One of those casual friend Valendates. Do you need me to clear out of the apartment tonight?"

"No!" I squeaked, "Gigi, for real, it's just as friends. It's not even a girl, okay? It's Tony."

Gigi's jaw dropped, "Tony? Like, Sexy Tony?"

"Just as friends!" I reminded her sternly, "He asked me, okay? I mentioned, you know, that I'd never been on a date before..."

"Aww, Em," Gigi said softly, "That's so sweet. I knew I liked Tony."

"Yeah," I blushed, "He's nice."

She grinned again, "And hot. Way to go, Em."

"It's not like that!" I snapped, "Come on, Gigi. You know I don't like guys."

"I know, I know," she waved airily, "Me neither. But you gotta admit he's a catch."

Gigi had been my roommate for the past two years, ever since I moved out of my grandma's place to start college. She was proudly asexual and aromantic, which, as she often reminded me, meant she was perfectly positioned to judge people's hotness, because she had no implicit bias.

Gigi had a lot of energy, which could be a bit daunting at times. When we first moved in together, I had planned to avoid her, but she made it very clear that was not gonna be an option. I eventually got used to her, and now she was the only girl I didn't get nervous talking to. Besides my grandma, obviously.

Actually, including my grandma. Grammy could be pretty scary sometimes.

"So what's the plan?" Gigi said, "You gonna go see a movie or something?"

"Um. I don't know," I blushed, "He said he would pick me up at six, but I forgot to ask where we're going."

"He's picking you up?" Gigi grinned, "What a gentleman."

"Yeah," I said absent-mindedly. Crap, now that I thought about it, I really should have asked what the plan was, "Do you think I'm dressed okay?"

"Definitely not," Gigi said at once.

"Gigi!"

"Sorry!" she said, but she didn't seem sorry. She pointed at my outfit, piece by piece, "I already told you those sneakers have got to go. They're falling apart. Those pants straight up do not fit you properly, let alone actually looking good. And you're literally wearing your uniform shirt from work."

"Okay, okay," I said, "I didn't realize this was a code inspection."

Gigi grinned. She was studying architecture, and sometimes she treated everything like she was planning a new building project. "Sorry, Em. This outfit needs to be condemned."

"So what am I meant to wear?" I said, "I can change my shirt, but basically all my clothes look like this. I don't have anything good!"

"That's because you're still wearing the clothes your grammy bought you in high school," Gigi said with an arched eyebrow, "You're a big boy now, Em. You gotta go shopping for yourself."

"Well, that doesn't help me now!" I said. I'd had classes right after my shift, and now there was only half an hour until Tony was supposed to pick me up. I was starting to panic. Gigi was right, I looked like shit, I looked like a loser who had been dressed by his grandma. It wasn't my fault clothes shopping sucked so much! Was I supposed to enjoy trying on a bunch of clothes that were meant for bigger, stronger men, and just emphasized how much I didn't measure up?

"Okay, it's okay," Gigi soothed, "Em, look at me."

"I'm gonna look like shit," I whined.

"It's okay!" Gigi said, "I was making a big deal out of nothing, Em. It's just a friend date, right? Tony won't mind what you wear."

"But what if he does!" I protested, "He said I was cute, and... and I'm not cute, Gigi. And I don't even like him or anything, but this is my first time I've ever been asked on a date, even though it's not a real date, and if he shows up and I look like shit, what if he calls it off? I can't be rejected from a fake date, Gigi, that's just... that's so pathetic..."

"I'm sure he won't call it off..." Gigi started.

"Maybe he will!" I whined, "Have you seen the types of people Tony dates? The girls are so pretty, and the guys are so big, and strong, and masculine, and they're all so hot, Gigi! I don't know what he expects me to do! I don't look like that! I'm not hot! I'm not even cute!"

"Okay, stop," Gigi said firmly, "Em, look at me. You are cute. Okay? Objectively. You're super cute. You just don't have the right clothes to show it off. Luckily for you, I do."

I stared at her, "What? Gigi, I can't wear..."

"I'm not gonna put you in a dress or anything," Gigi reassured me, "But we're basically the same size, Em. Let me at least find you some shoes that don't have holes in the toes."

My face burned, but Gigi was right. If anything, she was a little taller than me, and it wasn't like she dressed super feminine or anything. I reluctantly agreed and sat on her bed while she dug through her wardrobe. I fidgeted uncomfortably until at last she turned around.

"Here," she said, with a satisfied smile, "This should work."

I took the outfit she laid out and eyed it warily. The truth it, it didn't look that bad. Dark blue jeans, a black long-sleeved top, and a pair of brown ankle boots. It was totally unobjectionable, and Tony probably wouldn't even notice anything was off. But I couldn't just agree to wear women's clothing. I was a man. Men didn't do that.

"Gigi, I don't think this is a good idea," I said.

"It is," said Gigi.

"But--"

"It's a good idea, Em," she insisted, "Look, just try them on, okay? I promise I won't make fun of you or anything. If you feel uncomfortable you can take them off and we'll figure something else out. No harm, no foul."

She made a good point, but I was sure I should resist a little more, "Why do the boots have a heel?"

"Boo, nice try," Gigi said, "It's like a one inch heel. There are cowboy boots with bigger heels than that. And that's cow-boy, as in boy, as in these are basically men's shoes. Go change already, you dork."

I sighed and traipsed to my room. Gigi was right, the clothes really weren't so bad. The jeans looked kind of tight, so I couldn't wear boxers under them, but that was fine. I had always preferred tight briefs, anyway, so things weren't dangling awkwardly. Not that I had a whole lot to dangle...

I changed into the jeans and inspected myself in the mirror. They actually fit really well, clinging to my legs, somehow making them look toned and slim and maybe even a little longer than usual. I didn't mind that. Taller was always better. I turned my hips, and my stomach dropped. Oh, crap. These things really showed off my butt. The stretchy denim clung tight, lifting my cheeks, making my ass look rounder and perkier than I ever expected it to look. I blushed and looked away. I was just imagining it, surely. Besides, Tony wouldn't be looking at my butt. He had plenty of other butts to look at. I took a deep breath. This was fine.

The top was next, and that was fine too. The fabric was lighter and softer than I was used to, and actually felt really nice against my skin. Unfortunately, it didn't come down very far, so there was no chance of it covering my butt. But that was okay, I reminded myself. Nobody would be looking at my butt. I had to stop being so obsessed with my own butt.

The collar of the shirt was a little strange. It was kind of like a regular t-shirt collar, but it was a bit lower, and a bit wider, showing off my collarbones and a hint of my smooth, delicate chest. I frowned. On somebody else, like Tony, this top would be showing off well-define pecs and rugged chest hair. But on me, it looked almost... feminine.

I blushed and pushed the thought away. Okay, look. Maybe a couple of times I had thought about wearing women's clothing before. Maybe I had even read a couple of stories about it online. But that was just pretend, and just when I was feeling... well, when I was feeling a certain kind of way. This wasn't like that, not at all. I was not dressing up like a girl. I was just borrowing my girl friend's clothes. For a date. With a man.

As friends!

I forced myself not to think about it, and pulled on the boots. I zipped them up and took a couple of tentative steps in front of the mirror. I really didn't look so bad, actually. And the heels made me a little taller, which I couldn't help but smile at. I looked good. Maybe not the epitome of masculinity, but I looked cute, like Tony said.

"Are you done?" Gigi called out from behind the door.

"Y--" I started, and by that point Gigi had already burst in and was excitedly buzzing around me.

"Oh my god, Em, you look so good!" she squealed, "I told you this was a good idea! You look cute as all fuck, Em. If I was the type of person who dated people, I would totally date you."

I blushed and took another look in the mirror. I really did look pretty good. I grinned at Gigi cheekily, "Well, too bad. I'm taken tonight."

Gigi laughed and nudged my shoulder, "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't try and steal you from your man."

"Gigi!" I flinched, "He's not... he's not my man, Gigi."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. My face was burning hot right now. Suddenly this didn't feel like such a good idea. What was I doing? This was all so stupid. So crazy. The thought of actually going on a date with Tony Pérez, the thought of him being my man, the thought of someone stealing me from him, like I was his possession, something precious that he owned...

"Not yet," Gigi teased, "But maybe if tonight goes well..."

"No!" I snapped. I shook myself out of my stupid, sick little trance. "This is not a date, Gigi! I'm not gay! I'm not into Tony! You said you were gonna help me and not make fun of me, and now you're being really mean, and..."

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilating and desperately tried to slow down. Gigi waved her hands frantically.

"Sorry!" she said, and this time she really meant it, "I'm sorry Em, I was just joking. You look so good, that's all, and I got excited, but I know it's not a date! I was just being silly. Silly Gigi! D'oh!"

I took a deep breath, calming myself. Gigi was right. It was just a joke. I was being stupid. I took another look in the mirror and winced. My face was all red and blotchy now. I didn't look cute at all.

"What's wrong?" Gigi asked. I gestured at my stupid blotchy face and she bit her lip. "Okay. I have another idea. But you have to promise not to freak out."

I eyed myself critically, "Ski mask?"

"Make-up."

It took another five minutes of arguing, and Gigi reminding me that make-up wasn't permanent, and finally agreeing that if I hated it she would wash the dishes for the next two months, but eventually I let her sit me down at her mirror and put a tiny amount of foundation and concealer on me.

"You barely need it," she said as she worked, "I'm just putting the tiniest, tiniest bit on."

The tiniest, tiniest bit seemed to involved brushing make-up over my entire face, from my hairline to about halfway down my neck. I watched her work in the mirror and tried not freak out. My grandma would be furious if she saw what I was doing. But I didn't need to worry about what grammy thought tonight. Just about what Tony thought.

Hopefully he didn't think I was a freak.

"I'm really not sure about this," I said.

"Just wait..." Gigi murmured, working away at my face with the same precision she used to assemble model buildings, "I just gotta blend this out..."

At last she sat back with a smile, "See?"

I checked my face in the mirror and my eyes widened. The difference was almost imperceptible, and yet somehow undeniable. It barely looked like Gigi had done anything, except for the fact that my skin now looked smoother, and warmer, and blemish free. I had expected the makeup to feel greasy and uncomfortable, but even that wasn't an issue. I stared at Gigi in surprise.

She grinned, "Oh, what's that face? Gigi was right again?"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, "Thanks, I guess..."

"It's lucky we're such a good color match," Gigi mused, "Anyway... since I'm on such a winning streak..."

She held up a couple of ominous make-up cylinders. I frowned, "What are those supposed to be?"

"Mascara--"

"Absolutely not."

"And lip gloss."

"No!"

"Come on, Em!" she whined, "You gotta let me add the finishing touches! The ornamentation is the best bit!"

"I'm not a townhouse, Gigi," I warned her, "And I'm not wearing mascara. There's gotta be a limit."

"Okay, fine," she said, "He wouldn't even be able to tell, though. And it would really make your eyes pop. But fine. Now pucker up."

"I'm not wearing lipstick either!"

"It's just gloss!" she protested, "It's not even tinted or anything, it'll just make your lips look a little, you know! Glossy!"

"Why would I want that?" I said.

"You liked the foundation, right?" she said. I shifted uncomfortably, not willing to admit I did, "Well, this is basically the same thing, but for your lips. It's not changing anything, it's just a little, like, zhuzh."

"Zhuzh?"

"Zhuzh," she said firmly.

I sighed, "Fine. Zhuzh me up."

Gigi was right about the lip gloss. You really couldn't tell, unless you were looking. And nobody would be looking, I assured myself again. There was no reason for Tony to go anywhere near my lips. This was just about making sure I was living up to his expectations.

Gigi zhuzhed up my hair a bit, too, turning it from the usual lank mop into something swoopy and fluffy and, okay, cute. By this point I was getting tired, and I barely complained when she added a thin gold necklace and a couple of rings to my fingers.

"Ornamentation," she insisted, "Rings are the crown moulding of the fingers."

I was about to dispute that, when my phone dinged. A text from Tony popped up, in huge letters on my lockscreen. After a couple of late replies to my grammy, I had learned my lesson and changed my notification settings to ensure that my text alerts were unmissable.

[HEY EMMETT! I'M OUTSIDE. READY FOR OUR DATE?]

"Crap," I whispered.

"You look great, Em," Gigi squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, "Have a fun night."

"Okay," I took a deep breath and slipped my phone into my pocket.

Or tried to, anyway.

"What the hell?" I said, "What's up with these pockets?"

"Oh, right," Gigi winced, "Um. I could loan you a purse?"

"Gigi!"

"Okay, okay!" she scrambled and grabbed a tote bag from the hook on her door, "Here! You can toss your phone and wallet in this. And your lip gloss, in case you need touch-ups. And I'm gonna throw in the mascara--"

"Ugh! Fine!" I snatched the bag and stormed for the door. At the last second I turned back to Gigi.

She was bouncing anxiously on her toes, watching me with a nervous smile.

"Um," I took another deep breath, "Gigi, thank you for helping me get dressed up for my date. That was really nice of you. Sorry I was such a baby about it."

"Aw, Em!" she beamed and gave me another hug, "My pleasure. I just wanna make sure you're comfortable to show Tony the real you, okay? Because you are great, Em."

I wasn't so sure about all that, but I nodded and made my way outside.

It was a little awkward walking downstairs in Gigi's boots. Despite her assurances, I started to suspect the heels might be taller than one inch. It was too late to do anything about that, though. Tony was outside, and I didn't want to keep him waiting.

I hugged the strap of my tote bag and tried to stay calm, but my mind was buzzing with worries. Did my makeup look okay? Would Tony like my outfit? Was it a bad sign that I was worrying about my makeup and outfit before a completely platonic date? I didn't want Tony to get the wrong idea and think that I was actually into him. Not that I was worried he would make a move, I knew he wasn't really interested in me either. But god, it would be so embarrassing if he thought I had a crush on him or something.

Tony was waiting by his car, idly playing with his phone. I swore quietly. He was wearing the exact same clothes he had worn to work. The only thing he had done was switch his uniform shirt for a t-shirt and a light jacket.

He still looked great, obviously. He always did. While I still felt a little uncomfortable in my borrowed outfit, his clothes fit him perfectly, showing off his tall, powerful figure. His hair, which had been perfectly combed at work, was a little messy, spiking up just enough to make him look relaxed and a little cheeky. He scratched his tummy absent-mindedly, and his shirt rose up a little, showing off his taut body underneath.

God, why did he have to be so hot? Bad enough that the only time I had ever been asked out on a date it was by a man, but did it have to be a man who was so much more attractive than me?

My boots clicked on the pavement as I approached, and I nervously called out, "Hi."

Tony looked up with a smile, and then his face dropped. Fuck! I knew I looked stupid.

"Holy shit, Emmett," he said, and slowly that smile came back, "You look great. Wow. "

"Oh!" I blushed. For some reason that made my stomach feel a little fluttery. I wasn't used to getting compliments on my appearance, except from Gigi, who had to be nice to me because I paid half the rent. "Um. Thank you. You look nice too."

"I feel under-dressed," Tony laughed. He tilted his head, "Are you wearing make-up?"

"Noooo!" I groaned and covered my face, "She said it wouldn't be noticeable!"

"Who said what?" said Tony.

"My stupid roommate," I whined, "She helped me get ready, and she said you wouldn't be able to tell, it was just supposed to zhuzh me up, and I didn't have any nice clothes and I didn't want to look stupid because I know you usually date way hotter people--"

"Whoa, whoa," I felt Tony's hands grab me gently by the biceps, and I stopped talking and looked up at him meekly. He gave me a gentle squeeze, "Emmett, you never look stupid, okay? I was serious about what I said today. You're a cool guy, and I'm excited to spend time with you outside of work. No matter what you're wearing. Although, I gotta admit, I wouldn't mind if you dressed like this more often."

I blushed deep red, and for some stupid reason admitted, "My roommate let me borrow her clothes."

Tony raised his eyebrows, but instead of making fun of me, he just said, "She's got good taste. In clothing and in roommates."

Somehow I blushed even more. I tried to say something back, but I just ended up stumbling over my words, until Tony couldn't help but laugh.

"Emmett, dude, are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked, "I feel like it's stressing you out."

"I do!" I insisted, "But I've never been on a date before, I don't know what you expect me to--"

"Hey," Tony cut me off, his voice firm but soothing, "Don't you worry about a thing, okay? I'm the one who asked you out, so I'm gonna handle everything. You just sit back, look pretty, and let me take care of you."

Okay, now this surely had to be the most it was possible to blush.

"R-really?" I said.

"Totally," Tony smirked, "I'm gonna give you the full date experience. May I?"

He held out his arm, bent at a strange angle. After a moment I realized what he was suggesting, and timidly reached out and looped my hand over his forearm.

"Perfect," he grinned, "This way, gorgeous."

He led me around the car and I tried desperately not to trip over my own feet, or throw up, or scream. Gorgeous?!

"Here we are," said Tony, when we reached the passenger door. He opened it for me and helped me inside. I felt a strange sense of loss as I let go of his arm. He was so strong... I could feel his muscles even through the jacket, so different to my soft, skinny little arms...

"One more thing," Tony said, and then he leaned in towards me. My heart raced. Was he going to kiss me? Surely not! But he got closer and closer, and before I could help myself my lips parted slightly, just to tell him not to...

"There we go," said Tony, and I heard a click as he buckled in my seatbelt. Obviously! Obviously that's what he was doing! I knew that!

Tony smiled at me, his face the tiniest distance from my own. I could smell his cologne covering the familiar musky scent he got after a long day at work, and for some reason it was making me light-headed.

"Gotta keep my date nice and safe," he said.

"Thank you," I whispered. Tony winked and drew back, closing the door behind him. I took a deep breath. This fucking date was gonna kill me.

Getting buckled in was kind of nice, though...

Tony was a good driver, which I should've expected, but he kept glancing over at me as he drove. I wished he would stop. Not because I was worried he would crash, but because the way he was looking at me was making feel all hot and squirmy.

It was too much! Even though I wasn't attracted to him, I could feel his well-practiced seduction techniques in action, wearing away at my defences. It was like he was always on the attack, every little movement somehow perfectly calculated to demonstrate maximum handsomeness. Was this how I was supposed to treat women if I ever managed to take one out? It seemed exhausting. And I definitely didn't have eyes as intense and piercing as Tony's.

"So what do people talk about on dates?" I blurted, "Should I ask you, like, what you do for work?"

Tony laughed, "You already know what I do for work, dude. The same thing as you.."

"Oh," I blushed, "Right. Sorry."

"It's cool," Tony reached across and patted my thigh reassuringly, which almost gave me a heart attack, "We talk about stuff all the time at work. Maybe we should get deeper."

"Like..." I searched my mind for a topic, "Like how did you know you were bi?"

Tony grinned, "You think you might be curious?"

"No!" I blushed, "I just..."

"I'm. just kidding," Tony said, "It's a good question. To be honest, I thought I was gay for a while. I kissed a boy in fourth grade and I really liked it. But then I kissed a girl a few months later and I liked that just as much."

I grimaced. Here I was, having still never kissed a girl at twenty years old, and Tony had already had experience with two genders by age ten.

"So it's all the same to you?" I asked.

"Not really," Tony mused, "I think I like different things. I usually like bigger guys. Guys who work out, the type I can get a beer or watch the game with. And, y'know, do other guy stuff," he smirked to himself, "And then I usually like girls who are small and su--"

He stopped dead and blushed. My eyes widened. I had never seen Tony blush before.

"There are exceptions, obviously," he said quickly, "I don't have anything against femme guys, and obviously it's super hot when a girl can kick your ass. And I dated this one enby, and they were really cool, and, y'know, I shouldn't be talking about this stuff on a first date, anyway."

"Right," I muttered bitterly.

Well, that was just great. Tony had a type, and once again, I didn't measure up. Not that it mattered, but it would've been nice to at least pretend this wasn't a pity date. I sighed and looked out the window.

"So, uh, hey," Tony said awkwardly, "That was a good question. And we can talk about other deep stuff, like, uh. Um."

I didn't offer any help.

"Okay, here's one," he said, "You don't speak Spanish?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"You mentioned it a couple times," he shrugged, "But Oscar keeps forgetting, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "Everyone always expects me to speak Spanish."

"You do live in El Paso," Tony pointed out, "Your parents never figured you should know the language?"

"I was raised by my grammy," I said, "Um, my grandmother I mean. On my mom's side. She's white, and, um, not really into the whole Mexican thing."

"That sucks," Tony frowned, "Like she didn't want to get to know that side of your family at all?"

I shook my head, "She says she knows enough. She had kind of a vision for what her family was gonna be like, and then that kinda went out the window..."

I trailed off. Tony showed his mastery of first date etiquette by not asking me what happened to my mom and dad, and then he pulled the car into a parking lot.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Your favorite," he grinned, "Bowling!"

He looked so proud of himself I almost giggled. Bowling? What in the world made him think I liked bowling? Sure, I was a champion bowler in Wii Sports Resort, but...

My heart dropped as I remembered my first week at the cafe, when I had heard Tony talking about the rec baseball league he was in, and quickly chimed in by bragging about what a great bowler I was. Of course, I didn't want to seem like a dork by admitting it was in a video game, so I had just lied and claimed it was real.

That wasn't my fault though! I was a guy! Guys were supposed to brag about sports! And that was like a year ago, how was I supposed to know Tony had remembered it all this time?

"Oh, yay!" I said weakly, "Bowling!"

Tony unbuckled his seatbelt. I went to do the same, but he reached over and caught my hand. I froze. He was being gentle, but I could tell he had enough strength in his fingers to stop me dead if he wanted.

"Just wait right there," Tony smiled, "I got you."

I blushed and let go. Tony hopped out of the car and came around to my side. This was silly, really. Surely he didn't do this for every guy he went out with. I was a grown-up, after all, I could unbuckle my own seatbelt. Nonetheless, I sat quietly with my hands in my lap, waiting for Tony to let me out.

He opened my door and smiled down at me, "Hi."

"Hi," I said faintly. He leaned in again, which was less scary now that I knew he wasn't trying to kiss me, but was still a little overwhelming. He was just so big, so warm in the cool evening breeze, and I could smell his cologne again. Did it mean something that he was wearing cologne? He had put a little effort in, at least.

Tony unbuckled me and held my hand as he helped me out of the car. As embarrassing as it was, it was kind of nice. I was still a little nervous in my heels, and I didn't mind the support. I felt nervous all over again when he led me towards the bowling alley and I realized he was still holding my hand. My cheeks burned as I hurried to keep up with him, my heels clicking along the asphalt.

"Hey, when we get in there, do you mind if I refer to you as my date?" Tony asked, "I wanna give you the full experience, but, y'know, people can be assholes about it."

"Oh!" I squeaked. For some reason, the phrase felt strangely loaded. My date, my date, possessive, like I belonged to him somehow. Not Emmett, just Tony's date.

But I was Tony's date, just for now.

It was a little scary, though. This was Texas, after all. Tony squeezed my hand and I exhaled. If anyone started shit, Tony would protect me. I nodded my head and Tony grinned. He walked me to the counter, where an attendant was standing around looking bored.

"Hey man," he said, "Tony Pérez. I booked a lane for me and my date."

If the attendant was bothered by two guys being on a date, he didn't show it. It probably helped that Tony towered over him. He let go of my hand and I felt that same silly pang of loss, but then I jumped as he wrapped his arm around my waist. He was still chatting to the attendant, but I couldn't hear a word. I was too overwhelmed by the feeling of his firm grip around my slender little body, the casual command with which he held me close to him. Even in heels, my head only came up to his chest, and I had never felt more tiny, more fragile, or more emasculated.

The attendant was looking at me funny, I realized, and then Tony gave me a little squeeze.

"Emmett," he said, "He asked for your shoe size?"

"Oh, um," I had been wearing the same beat up old shoes since high school, and had long since forgotten my size. I wracked my brain and remembered the number on the insole when I put my boots on, "Um, size seven I think."

The attendant's brow furrowed as he glanced down at my feet, "You sure?"

I blushed, "Ladies size seven."

The attendant nodded and wandered off. I turned to Tony quickly.

"I don't usually wear ladies shoes," I babbled, "I just didn't have any nice shoes, and Gigi let me borrow hers, and she said they were basically cowboy boots, and I didn't realize the heel was that high but it was kinda nice because it means I'm a little taller and--"

"Hey, it's okay," Tony said, "You can wear whatever shoes you want, dude. You look good."

"Sorry. Thank you."

"You got dainty little feet," Tony said.

Before I could formulate a response to that, the attendant returned with our shoes. I couldn't help but notice how much Tony's absolutely dwarfed mine. Also...

"Pink okay?" the attendant asked, "It's all we got in a ladies seven."

"That's fine," I said miserably.

Tony noticed my expression and frowned, "You sure you don't got any other colors?"

The attendant sighed, "I dunno. Maybe in the back."

"Cool, we'll wait," said Tony.

"Tony!" I hissed. I did not want to cause a fuss.

"Is it that big of a deal?" said the attendant.

"My date doesn't like the pink ones," said Tony, "So go--"

"Tony!" I tugged his arm, "Pink is fine! I like pink!"

Tony looked at me, "You sure?"

"Yes!" I hissed. I glanced at the attendant apologetically, "Pink is perfect! Thank you!"

"No worries," he shrugged and wandered off again.

"Oh my god," I whined, "Tony!"

"Did I do something wrong?" Tony frowned, "You didn't look happy with the pink shoes."

"They're fine!" I protested, "I mean, obviously I would prefer if they weren't pink--"

Tony turned to the attendant again, "Hey--"

"Tony!" I yelped, and dragged him away from the counter. Well, I tried to, anyway. It took a few seconds for him to realize what I was doing and actually follow me, until then I was just tugging helplessly at his arm.

We sat on a bench and I crossed my arms, glaring up at Tony, "I was fine with the pink ones. Yes, I would prefer if they weren't pink, obviously, because pink is. You know. For girls."

Tony raised his eyebrows.

"It is!" I said, "Everyone knows that."

"Sorry, yeah, clearly I was being silly," Tony smirked.

I blushed, "The point is, you didn't have to make a big deal out of it."

"Sure I did," Tony said, "You're my date, Emmett. It's my job to spoil you. I want you to have a perfect night." He raised his voice and stood up, "And if you don't like pink--"

I lunged for him and clung desperately to his arm, "Tony!"

"Just kidding," he grinned, and he looked so pleased with himself I couldn't help but laugh.

"You're such a jerk," I said. Tony shrugged but didn't deny it. I sighed, "How much do I owe you for the shoes?"

Tony shook his head, "Seriously, Emmett, I don't think you get how this whole date thing works. You're my Valentine. I'm not gonna make you pay, or have to complain to the shoe guy, or do anything else you don't wanna do. I was serious in the car. Just sit back, look pretty, and I'll handle everything."

I slumped back in my seat, a little bit overwhelmed. Tony grinned, "See? Perfect."

"Tonyyyy," I whined.

"Hey," he rubbed my shoulder reassuringly, "Look, if you really don't like this, we can call it off and I'll take you home, or we can just go bowling as bros. But if you do like it, you don't have to put up a fight, okay?"

I bit my lip and shrank back into my seat. Tony looked at me seriously, his eyes so bright and earnest.

"I like it," I whispered.

"Great," Tony grinned, "Now let's get those shoes off."

I groaned and covered my face. Tony knelt down in front of me, lifted my foot, and carefully unzipped my boot. I peeked between my fingers and watched his deft hands move over my dainty little feet, switching one pair of borrowed women's shoes for another. He smiled up at me and my heart fluttered. This was pampering on another level. He pulled my laces taut, sealing me into the pink bowling shoes. I felt like a dress-up doll, or like Cinderella, with her handsome prince helping her into her glass slippers.

Not in a gay way or anything.

"Um, thanks!" I said, trying to keep my trembling voice firm and deep, with little success.

"My pleasure," said Tony. He helped me to my feet and my heart sank as I realized that without my little heels he was now even taller than me.

"Maybe you can pay me back by not kicking my ass too bad at bowling," he said.

"Oh,," I winced, "Um. No promises."

My mind raced as we made our way to our lane. Real life bowling couldn't be that different to Wii Bowling, could it? Should I tell Tony the truth? But it was so embarrassing! This whole time he thought I was an expert bowler when I was really just a stupid nerd. He was already so much more athletic than me, maybe the only reason he asked me out was because he wanted some competition! Well, it was too late to back out now, I just had to do my best and hope that I somehow lived up to my claims.

I was so lost in thought I didn't even notice Tony was holding my hand again until he let go to use the control console. There was a little diner-style booth at the end of our lane, so I dropped my tote bag on the seat while Tony set up our game and entered his name. The letters appeared on the screen with little beeps: T-O-N-Y. I added my name next: E-M-M-E-donk.

"Aww," I whined, "It only gives you four letters?"

"That's some bullshit," Tony shook his head, "I'm gonna get a manager."

"Tony!" I grabbed at his arm again and he laughed. I pouted and kept holding on, just in case he got any big ideas. Although to be honest, if he started moving I probably would've just been swept along with him.

"Okay, no problem," said Tony, "I know what to do."

He deleted my name and started again: E-M-M-Y.

"Perfect," he said.

"Emmy?" I frowned.

"Yeah!" he said, "Emmy. It's cute, like you."

"It sounds like a girl's name," I grumbled.

"Well, so does Emmett, when you think about it," Tony pointed out, "It's like Emma plus ette. Like a more girly version of Emma."

"Oh," I blushed. I never thought about it like that. My grandma always said that Emmett was a strong, dignified name. Was it really just a more girly version of a name that was already for girls? Was that the impression I gave off?

"Okay, Emmy," said Tony, "Let me have at least one turn to feel like I'm in the lead."

He picked out a ball and took his first shot, knocking out a pathetic single pin on the far left. I giggled as he groaned in despair.

"Well, so much for that," he said.

"Wow, Tony," I teased, "I thought those big muscles would make you a better bowler."

Tony grinned and thumbed at his jacket, "Y'know what? It's cause I had this jacket on. Constricting my movement."

"Oh, I'm sure," I said.

Tony wagged a finger at me warningly, "Don't get cocky! I'm still technically winning. Check the scoreboard!"

He pointed up at the monitor. Sure enough, the score was TONY: 001 -- EMMY: 000.

I applauded politely with a big smile on my face. Okay, this wasn't so bad. Tony wasn't so intimidating after all. Deep down, he was just a dork like me.

As I was thinking that, Tony took off his jacket, and I gasped.

Oh my god.

I never saw Tony outside of work, where we had to wear unflattering button-down shirts for our uniforms. Obviously I could still tell he was fit, but this was the first time I had really seen his body. This was the first time I had really seen his arms, so thick and rugged and bulging with muscle. His white t-shirt clung tightly to his chest, showing off his well-defined pecs and straining against his broad shoulders. Take back what I just said about him not being intimidating, oh my god. Tony! What the fuck!

Tony looked up from the ball return, "You okay?"

"Mhm!" I whimpered, and gave him an awkward thumbs up.

"Okay," Tony took a deep breath, "Wish me luck, Emmy."

"Good luck!" I squeaked.

Tony smiled and lined up his second shot. I was sweating bullets. Why was this affecting me so much? They were just arms! I had seen arms before! But oh my god, the way Tony's forearm flexed as he drew back the ball, the way his bicep swelled as he pumped his fist when it took out five more pins... it made it very hard not to think about the fact that I was sitting here wearing women's shoes, and women's clothes, and women's lip gloss, while on a date with someone who was very extremely definitely not a woman.

"Take that, Emmy!" Tony whooped, "That's a six point lead, baby. That's an infinity percent lead."

I laughed at his stupid joke, but my voice came out high-pitched and breathless, like a stupid airheaded giggle. Tony didn't even seem to notice, which was maybe even more embarrassing, because that meant he thought I just laughed like that normally.

"You're up," he grinned.

"R-right!" I said, and stepped up to the alley. Okay, I could do this. It was just like Wii Bowling. Just keep your arm straight, deep breaths, and...

"Emmy?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You need a ball?"

"Oh!" I blushed, "Um, yep. I knew that. I was just, um, just sizing up the pins."

Tony nodded wisely, "Smart. This is where I went wrong. What ball do you use?"

"Umm," I bit my lip, "Same one as you?"

Tony nodded, "Coming right up."

He plucked a dark blue ball from the ball return and handed it to me. I reached out for it and--

"Oof!" What the hell! Why was it so heavy? It didn't look that heavy when Tony was holding it!

"Whoa," Tony grabbed my arms, holding me steady, "Maybe a lighter ball?"

"N-no!" I said. I clutched the ball to my chest, just about managing to hold it up without wobbling, "This one is perfect. This is the one I always use."

"Uh, sure," Tony said. He let go of my arms, but kept his hands close by in case I needed help again. I staggered over to the alley and tried to figure out how to actually hold the ball. I could just about stretch my fingers into the three holes, but there was no way I had enough grip strength to bowl it normally. This did NOT feel the same as a wiimote.

"Um, I'm gonna bowl it the baby way!" I called to Tony, "To, um, to go easy on you!"

"Hey!" Tony laughed, "I'm not that bad!"

I gritted my teeth and hefted the ball with both hands. It rolled straight into the gutter with a resounding plonk. I stared at it in disbelief.

"Emmy!" Tony said, "That's just insulting."

"Ha, yeah," I turned back to Tony with a weak smile, "Just.. just evening the playing field a bit..."

"You little brat," he shook his head, "I got a better idea. For my handicap, I get to pick your ball."

"Oh!" Relief washed over me. I wasn't sure I would do much better with another ball, but at least I wouldn't have to hold up that awful heavy one again, "S-sure, I guess that works. If you're so scared about me beating you."

"I'm terrified," Tony smirked, "Here, try this one."

He passed me a small purple ball, and I accepted it quickly, hoping I didn't look too eager. This one was way better. It actually fit in my hand, and I wasn't terrified about dropping it on my toes. I had another go, and this time I actually got four pins. I whirled around and grinned at Tony, before I remembered that was supposed to be a bad score for me. I turned my grin into a determined glare.

"Watch out, Pérez," I said, "I'm hot on your tail."

Tony raised his eyebrows and I blushed. I didn't mean it like that! I wasn't even sure what it meant like that!

We kept playing, and Tony got better and better with every frame. I very much did not. It looked like my four pins were a fluke, because after that I got gutterball after gutterball, and got more and more frustrated. It didn't help that Tony kept making jokes.

"Damn Emmy, you better lock in," he teased, after my third gutterball in a row, "My tail is feeling real cold right now."

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from yelling at him or bursting into tears. Okay, maybe I was the one who started the trashtalk, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt my feelings! He was already better than me in every way, did he have to rub it in?

The game ended in a blowout, with Tony more than tripling my score. I had the final bowl and, yay for me, it was another freaking gutterball. I stormed back to our booth and thumped down on my seat in a huff.

"You okay, Emmy?" Tony asked.

"Yes," I muttered, "My arms are tired, that's all."

"Okay..." Tony said uncomfortably, "Uh. Good game, that was fun."

I snorted and crossed my arms, "Whatever."

Tony looked at me warily. I knew I was being stupid and childish but I was too angry at myself to care. Stupid bowling. Stupid date. Stupid fucking Valentine's Day! This was meant to be fun, was meant to make me feel good about myself for at least a few short hours, but instead I was having a shitty time and Tony probably thought I was a liar or an idiot or both. And you know what? He was right!

I waited for him to call me out, end our date, and demand I pay him back for the booking, but instead he picked up a menu and thumbed through it.

"You want a burger?" he said, "Or a hotdog, maybe? You seem like a hotdog kind of guy."

I eyed him suspiciously. He nodded to himself.

"Yeah, the hotdogs look good," he said, "Something to drink, too. Do you like margaritas?"

I stared at him. He smiled back innocently.

"I've never had one," I muttered.

"They're pretty good, dude," he said, "A little salty, a little sour. But mostly sweet. Like you."

He winked at me and I blushed red. What the hell?

"And," he added, "It's Mexican. So it's a real authentic cultural experience."

I giggled a little before I could stop myself. Tony grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, perfect," he said, "Hotdog and a margarita. We can have dinner before our second game."

"Do you always order for your dates?" I asked.

"Only the cute ones," he said, "Don't run off on me, okay?"

He left to place our order and I squirmed in my seat. What was that all about? He must have realized I lied to him by now, and besides, I was acting like a total jerk for the whole game. But he still wanted to have dinner with me? And he picked out a drink he thought I would like? And he thought I was mostly sweet?

And he called me cute again, which I still wasn't getting used to...

I felt an anxious little worm of guilt wriggling in my belly. Tony was being so nice, even though I clearly didn't deserve it. He could've cut this dumb fake date short at any time, but he was sticking with it, trying to make sure I had a good time. I made up my mind then and there to stop being such a baby. Tony deserved to have a good time too. So I was gonna be a good date for him.

When Tony came back I was much more attentive, chatting and smiling and laughing at all his jokes. It wasn't that hard, to be honest. His jokes were pretty funny, and he was so charming. I had envied his confident flirting so many times at work, but it was a whole different story when he was directing it at me. I found myself blushing and giggling almost constantly, and when he reached across the table for my hand, I took it eagerly. Look, I wasn't attracted to Tony. Not one bit. But god, it felt so nice to be treated like this, to have such an objectively hot guy act like I was somehow on his level. Tony was special, I always knew that, and when he looked at me it made me feel like I was special too.

Our drinks arrived and I reluctantly let go of Tony's hand. He was right about the margarita, it was delicious. So much better than gross boring beers. And man, I could use a drink. I slurped it up quickly, feeling a relaxing buzz creep into my head.

"Whoa," said Tony, "Someone's thirsty."

"Mhm," I nodded, finishing my drink with a satisfied sigh, "So good."

"You wanna try another one?" said Tony, "I'm paying."

"Umm," I eyed his drink, which was something brown in a short glass, "What are you drinking?"

"Old fashioned," Tony offered me the glass, "Try it."

I nodded and leaned across the table, parting my lips for him. He hesitated for a moment, then raised the glass to my mouth. The glass was cold, but was I imagining it, or did the place where my lips touched the rim feel a little warm, and slightly wet? Was this where Tony had been drinking from? My cheeks went red at the thought, but I tried to ignore it and focus on the drink. I closed my eyes and took a deep sip.

"Mmm," I murmured. It tasted wonderful, spicy and smooth. I opened my eyes as I swallowed, then drew back and wiped my sticky lips, gazing up at Tony, "Yes please."

"Uh, that's--" Tony stammered, "Wait, what?"

I cocked my head, "Yes please? I'd like one of those."

"Oh, right!" Tony said, "Sure. Yep."

He stood up, looking strangely flustered. He was even blushing again! Twice in one night. What was up with that boy?

He left the booth and my eyes drifted to his glass. Oh, no! There was a little pink lip gloss print on the rim where my lips had touched it. I groaned and quickly rubbed it away with a napkin. Damn it, Gigi! She said it wasn't tinted! I grabbed my phone and sent her an angry text, then, on second thought, opened my camera to check that my lip gloss wasn't smudged all over my face. It wasn't, luckily, but it had rubbed away from my lips a bit.

I double-checked that Tony wasn't on his way back yet, then quickly reapplied my gloss. If I was going to be a good date for Tony, I needed all the zhuzh I could get. I put the lip gloss back in my bag, and my fingers brushed against something else. The mascara.

Well... Gigi did say it would make my eyes pop...

I applied the mascara as quickly and carefully as I could, trying to copy what Gigi did when she did her make-up. A few little blinks and my eye lashes looked dark and dramatic and somehow longer. And Gigi was right, it really did make my eyes pop. Maybe now they could compete with Tony's soulful, dreamy brown eyes...

I dropped my mascara back in the bag and examined myself in the camera again. I really did look quite good. My outfit made my body look slim and elegant instead of scrawny, and my hair and make-up made my face look, honestly, kind of pretty. I felt a little flutter of pride in my chest. Maybe it wasn't so crazy that Tony wanted to date me, after all.

"Hey!" Tony said, "Taking selfies?"

I jumped, "No! I was just..."

Crap! I couldn't tell him I had been putting on more make-up. This date had been emasculating enough already! I summoned up a smile and lied, "Just taking some photos, um, to show my roommate."

"Aw, cute," Tony said, "And smart. Staying safe."

"Huh?" I said.

"Oh yeah, that's a thing," he nodded, "Especially for girls. When they go on dates, they usually let a friend know what they're up to, in case the guy turns out to be a psycho."

"Wow," I said, "I'm glad I don't have to worry about that."

"Better safe than sorry," Tony shrugged, then grinned, "Wanna send her one with me in it? I take a real good Potential Murder Suspect pic."

"Oh, um. Sure," I said. I lifted my phone to take a photo, but before I could, Tony scooched into the booth next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. "Oh! L-like a selfie. Right."

"Is that not--" Tony lifted his arm off me, embarrassed.

"No, no!" I said quickly, "It's fine. Just took me a little by surprise."

"Sorry," Tony grimaced, "I know I can be a bit much."

"No, it's fine," I said. He tentatively lifted his arm again and I nuzzled into his side and held up my phone. He smiled at the camera. God, he really was so good-looking.

I snapped a pic and sent it to Gigi, realising a moment too late that Tony could see my last message to her about the lip gloss.

"Sorry," I winced.

"What for?"

"My roommate bullied me into wearing lip gloss, and I didn't realize it would leave a stain on your glass," I said, feeling like I was about to shrivel up from embarrassment, "I could tell that it made you uncomfortable."

Tony blushed again, "Oh, that? Uh, yeah, it, uh, it wasn't the lip gloss."

"Huh? What was it, then?"

"Well," Tony rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I, uh, when I held out my glass I kinda figured you would, y'know, take it. With your hand. Not just lean forward and open your mouth for me."

Suddenly it hit me what that must have looked like from his perspective and I clapped my hands over my mouth in horror.

"Oh my god!"

Tony laughed, "It just took me by surprise."

"Oh my god, Tony! I'm so sorry!"

"Chill," he said. He put his arm around me again and gave me a comforting squeeze, "It was cute. You're cute, Emmy."

My whole body felt hot, from the tips of my ears all the way down to my toes.

"Honestly, it was kinda hot," Tony said.

My eyes went wide. I stared at him.

"Really?" I said.

He shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry, I see someone cute looking up at me with their mouth open, I can't help but be a little turned on."

Maybe I should've been grossed out. Maybe I should've been offended. What I was, though, was very, very flattered.

"Jeez, Tony," I grinned, "It's just the first date. Don't get too excited."

Tony laughed and I felt a wicked thrill. Tony was turned on? By me? If I was into dudes, that would be the best news ever. Even though I wasn't, it was still pretty awesome. My efforts to be a better date were totally paying off!

Our food arrived and we ate together, still sitting side by side. I revelled in my new secret knowledge. I could make Tony Pérez turned on! I could make him blush. It was like a superpower. I kept teasing him throughout the meal, letting my hand brush against his, making soft, breathy sighs of pleasure as I sipped my drink, and even (and, okay, I admit this was probably a little too far) slowly licking the mustard off the tip of my hotdog. The crazy thing was, it was working. Tony was a total mess. He kept smirking and blushing and when I did the hotdog thing he actually gasped. I had never felt cooler.

I finished my meal and licked my lips while gazing up at Tony. He shook his head ruefully and I grinned.

"So," I chirped, "How does a hottie like you end up single on Valentine's Day?"

Tony laughed, "A hottie like me?"

"Oh, don't act humble," I rolled my eyes, "Guys and girls are asking you out all the time. You're really telling me you didn't have plans for tonight?"

Tony sighed, "I'm kinda taking a break at the moment. Things didn't end so well with my last girlfriend. She said I was too controlling."

"What?" I said, "Really?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded, "I guess that's why she decided to cheat on me."

My jaw dropped, "WHAT?"

"I'm being a dick," Tony said, "I mean, yeah, she cheated on me, but she had a point about the whole controlling thing. It's the way I was raised, y'know? Like, it's the man's job to take the lead, to make the decisions, to look after the girl. But it's bullshit, I know that. I mean, shit, the people who believe that stuff also think bisexuals don't exist, and I know that's not true. I'm tryna do better, but it's hard to fight that instinct. Sometimes I still do it without thinking."

"Hmph," I said. All of that stuff sounded pretty normal to me. Grammy had drilled some very similar rules into my head as a kid. "Well, it's her loss. I'm sure whoever she cheated on you with is a total loser."

Tony laughed, "Thanks, Emmy. But for real, if you learn one thing for your next date, girls don't like being bossed around."

"Are you the same way with guys?" I asked, "Since you're bi?"

"Ahh," Tony shifted uncomfortably, "Not really. Kinda sexist, I know, but mostly I date masc guys."

"Masc?"

"Oh, it means, y'know, masculine," he said, "Guys like me. So I don't feel that protective instinct as much. Fuck, I must sound like such a asshole."

"You're not an asshole," I said, "I think it's kinda sweet. And I'm sure some girls like getting bossed around."

Tony shrugged, "I guess so."

I sipped my drink and thought about it. I definitely didn't feel like Tony had been controlling. I guess that made sense, since I was a guy. If anything he had been really sweet, ordering my dinner for me, and talking to the attendant about my shoes, and even changing my name when it didn't fit on the screen. It felt good being taken care of like that. There was no way Tony could have known this, but I secretly thought the idea of someone like him making all the decision for me sounded really nice. I spent so much time stressing about doing the right thing, it would be a relief to let go of that and let somebody else handle it. Those girls were luckier than they knew.

"So," Tony smirked, "I have a question for you, but it's pretty personal."

I gulped, "What is it?"

"Are you really an expert bowler?" he asked.

I groaned and slumped back on my seat. Tony laughed.

"I'm really good at Wii Bowling," I whined.

"I knew you weren't going easy on me!" Tony hopped up from the booth and stuck out his hand., "Come on Emmy. Let me show you how it's done."

I took his hand with a rueful smile and let him lead me back to the lane.

***

"... then just swing your arm forward in one smooth movement, and release," said Tony.

I followed his instructions, and the ball glided down the alley and hit the pins with a clatter. I jumped up, clapping my hands excitedly, "I did it!"

"You did!" Tony laughed, "That's an eight, Emmy! Killing it!"

It felt a little strange at first, letting Tony coach me. It wasn't like he was an expert bowler either, after all. Still, he was definitely better than me, and his advice was actually really useful. He let me use his first two frames to practice, along with my own, which was really nice of him too. He was such a good guy. Stupid ex-girlfriend didn't know what she was missing.

"I'm gonna kick your ass now," I grinned, "Ready to play for real?"

"Sure," Tony said, "Thanks for the eight points, by the way."

I looked up at the monitor and realized that last turn had been one of Tony's frames. Woops.

"Well, you're gonna need them," I said smugly. I skipped back to the ball return and grabbed my little purple ball. I felt a dull pang of embarrassment seeing it next to Tony's much larger dark blue one, but I pushed it down. Of course Tony's ball was bigger than mine. It didn't mean I was less of a man, it just made sense. He was much bigger than me, too. Bigger, and stronger, and... anyway, I was still gonna win this game.

I took my place at the alley, drew back my arm, leant forward and swung--

"Nice ass, Emmy!" Tony called out.

I jumped and dropped my ball at the exact wrong moment. Instead of zipping down the alley, it rolled forward at a miserable snail's pace. I whirled around and put my hands on my hips.

"That's cheating!" I yelled.

Tony put his hands up, feigning innocence, "Who, me?"

"You distracted me!" I said, "You can't psych me out when it's my turn to bowl!"

"I wasn't trying to psych you out," Tony grinned, "I had something important to say."

"Making fun of my butt is not important."

"I wasn't making fun!" Tony protested, "You have a really nice ass, and I wanted to make sure you knew that."

I blushed, "I do not."

"Yes you do," Tony said, "Especially in those jeans. God damn, Emmy."

I blushed, not sure exactly how to respond. As a straight guy, I should not be feeling so pleased about another guy complimenting me on my butt. If anything, I should be outraged. On the other hand, I had been teasing him pretty bad before. Poor horny Tony couldn't help it if he got a bit excited about my ass.

"Holy shit," Tony said, "Emmy, look!"

I spun around (probably giving Tony another peek at my nice ass) and gasped. My terribly thrown ball finally made it to the end of the alley and collided directly with the centre of the pins, knocking down every single one.

"Oh my god!" I squealed and punched the air, "Strike! I got a strike!"

"Way to go, Emmy," said Tony, "I should compliment your ass more often."

"Maybe you should," I grinned, "Clearly it's good luck."

"You've got a great ass, Emmy," Tony said, "It's like, a perfect size, nice and round..."

"Tony!" I giggled.

"Looks really slappable..." he continued.

"SLAPPABLE?" I gasped, then burst out laughing, "You wish, Tony."

"I really do," he sighed, mock-dreamingly.

"Okay, enough messing around," I said, "You're up, big guy."

Tony grabbed his ball and got in position. I stood back and smirked to myself, still thinking about what he had said. Here I was thinking he was doing me a favor, when all along he was actually just obsessed with my butt. I snickered at the thought, but then something serious hit me.

I should totally get him back.

I smiled wickedly. Okay, I couldn't just yell nice ass again, that was unoriginal. What else could I say? I ran my eyes over Tony's body, taking it all in as quickly as I could. Rats, he really did have a nice ass, even though his jeans didn't show it off quite as well as mine did. Hmm, he had thick thighs, too, nice strong arms, but what really caught my eye were his shoulders. His tight t-shirt really showed them off, especially from this angle, highlighting the way his traps intersected with the round, bulging muscle of the shoulders themselves. It almost looked like he was hiding two extra bowling balls inside his shirt.

"Nice shoulders!" I called out.

Tony's ball sailed down the lane and took out a solid six pins. He turned around with a grin.

"What was that?" he said.

"Nice-- um," my face went bright red. In retrospect, complimenting his shoulders wasn't quite the same thing. "Never mind!"

"You like my shoulders, Emmy?" Tony raised an eyebrow and flexed his arms, making his shoulders stand out even more.

"Never mind, I said!"

Unfortunately, my plan had totally backfired. My next few frames were all over the place. I couldn't stop thinking about Tony and his stupid shoulders. Why did I say that? It wasn't like I was horny for him or anything! He just had nice shoulders! Objectively! It wasn't like I wanted to run my hands all over them, or kiss them, or gaze into a mirror and watch them flex as he slapped my apparently-very-slappable ass!

I shivered and sent another ball into the gutter. Okay, my mind was getting really off track now. I was thinking about those dumb stories again, the ones I read late at night when I was having a bad day and needed some kinky stress relief. I was not into Tony. Just because I was on a date with him didn't mean I was gay, and just because I was wearing women's clothing didn't mean I wanted to be a girl. Grammy would freak, for one thing. And I wasn't really into that stuff anyway. I only read it for the taboo, and I was only thinking about it now because I had been drinking, and because some of the stuff Tony had said about bossing women around had been uncomfortably familiar. I pushed those thoughts deep, deep down where they belonged and tried to focus on bowling.

It was not working. Tony kept flirting with me, and smiling at me, and patting me on the shoulder when we passed each other, and it was all getting mixed up in my head and making me hot and flushed and confused. I was not into Tony! I was sure of it, no matter how much my heart was racing. I pictured kissing him, holding big, strong Tony in my arms like he was a girl and kissing him, and sure enough it felt super gross. I was a straight guy, and I was gonna keep acting like a straight guy, and soon this crazy night would be over and everything would be fine.

I picked up my ball for my second throw, shivering as I walked past Tony again.

"Hey, Emmy," he said, "You're getting sloppy."

I gulped, "W-what?"

"Your arm keeps going off to the side," he said, "You need to stay straight."

"I am!" I squeaked, my cheeks burning, "I'm staying totally straight!"

Tony frowned, "I don't think so."

"Well!" I protested, "I'm trying, okay!"

"Here," said Tony, "Let me help you."

He stepped up to my side and reached out his hand, and I froze. Was he going to--?

Oh my god. He was. Tony pressed up behind me, taking my hand in his own so he could correct my form.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Mhm," I whimpered.

"Okay," he said. He put his other hand on my hip, moving me into position, "Let's get you lined up."

"Mhm," I whimpered again. This was okay. This was okay. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Tony was the one doing everything. All I had to do was relax and let Tony move me the way he wanted.

"There we go," he said. His voice was low as he pressed up tight against me. I could feel his hot breath against my cheek as he spoke. "Alright, now just lean forward..."

He bent me over and I shut my eyes tight. Oh my god. I could feel my ass, my nice ass, my ass that Tony loved so much, pressing up against his crotch, with only a couple layers of fabric in between us. I exhaled shakily, then gasped as Tony tightened his grip on my wrist.

"Just like that, Emmy," he said softly, "You okay?"

"Uh-huh!" I squeaked. I still wasn't doing anything wrong. I was just doing what Tony said.

"Now bring your arm back," he said, and I obeyed his deep voice and his firm grasp, "And then swing it forward, nice and straight, and release."

I let go of the ball and pushed my ass back against Tony's crotch. He hissed and I opened my eyes to see the ball crash into the pins.

""So good, Emmy," Tony said, still holding my wrist, "That was perfect."

I looked over my shoulder at him. His face was so close to my own. I could feel his warmth, could smell his cologne, and his deep brown eyes were locked intently on my own. His lips were close enough to reach out and taste...

Tony blushed and stepped back.

"Shit," he said, "Sorry, Emmy. Fuck, I didn't even ask, did I? I just grabbed you."

"That's okay!" I said, "It was really helpful!"

"Still," he grimaced, "I shouldn't have--"

"Tony," I said, "It's okay. I, um. I liked it."

He hesitated, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," I nodded, blushing deeply. I swear, I had spent half the night blushing.

"Okay," he grinned, "Well, I mean. I told you you were getting the full date experience."

***

The night air was freezing cold. That was El Paso for you. Boiling hot during the day, but when night came the cold desert winds were harsh and brutal.

"Here," Tony took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I blushed but accepted it gratefully, "You wait here out of the wind, I'll bring the car around."

"Oh, Tony!" My heart fluttered. That was so sweet. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "So, did this date live up to your expectations?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "I almost wish it didn't have to end just yet."

"Hmm," Tony said thoughtfully, "Okay, I'm gonna get the car. Won't be long."

He took out his phone and walked off into the dark parking lot. I huddled up against the wall, clutching my tote and pulling Tony's jacket tighter around me. It was still warm from his body heat, and it smelled like him...

I almost kissed him.

I seriously almost kissed him, back at the bowling lane, when he was pressed up against me. If he had gone for a kiss, I would've let him. And there had been easily five more times since then, through the rest of our second game, when he was helping me change my shoes again, just now when he gave me his jacket, that I would have let him kiss me again.

It was just the heat of the moment, that was all. It had been such a weird night, full of so many new experiences. Nobody had ever treated me like Tony had, so gentle and at the same time so commanding. Nobody had ever complimented my ass, or paid for my drinks, or taken me on a date! Of course I was getting worked up. If it was a girl treating me like this, I would probably have made out with her already.

But then, if it was a girl, she wouldn't be treating me like this. If I was the man in the relationship, it would be my job to treat her so nicely, to take the lead and order drinks and compliment her ass. I sighed. Why did being a guy have to be so hard? How did Tony make it look so effortless?

I wasn't going to figure it out tonight. At least I got to experience one date the fun way. Hopefully I would get to do one the normal way soon. That would be better. Somehow.

I pulled my phone out of my tote to pass the time. I had a new message from Gigi, filling up the entire lockscreen.

[OK YES EM BUT THE TINT IS LIKE THE SAME COLOR AS YOUR LIPS ANYWAY! SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BTW I FORGOT I HAD AN ESSAY DUE TONIGHT RIP. HOW'S YOUR DATE? CUTE PHOTO!]

I shook my head ruefully and typed out a few messages in reply, trying to sort out my emotions.

[The date is... confusing. I know it's just a friend thing, but sometimes it seems like he's genuinely into me. He said I was turning him on, but I know I'm not his type, bc he only likes big strong guys.]

I sighed. It shouldn't bother me that I wasn't Tony's type, but it was just another reminder of my inadequacy.

[And the photo wasn't my idea, by the way. Tony kind of insisted on it. He does a lot of stuff like that, lol. Like he ordered dinner for me, and he grabbed my arm to show me how to bowl. It's kind of funny bc he said girls don't like it when he takes charge, but]

I stopped, a bunch of pieces suddenly clicking together in my mind.

[Oh my god Gigi, he's treating me like a girl.]

I heard a beep and shoved my phone back in my tote. Tony pulled the car over and got out to open my door for me. I blushed and hurried over, my heels clicking against the asphalt again.

He was treating me like a girl! I totally wasn't his type as a guy, but he kept calling me cute, and complimenting my butt, and I was wearing this outfit and make-up and everything, and he had said he liked girls who were smaller than him! My face was burning again. Was I really so pathetic as a man that Tony decided it made more sense to treat me like a girl?

"Hey Emmy," Tony smiled. He held out his hand to help me into the car and I shamefully accepted. He buckled me in and closed the door.

Tony wouldn't do that on purpose, I rationalized. He wasn't judgy like that. He was too nice. But that honestly made it even worse. He had mentioned that sometimes he could be controlling without even realising it. Subconsciously, he had seen me, weak and feminine little Emmy Garcia, and his brain had activated his protective instincts.

It should have been humiliating. I should have hated it.

Why didn't I hate it?

Tony's door slammed shut and I jumped.

"So," Tony grinned, "Before I take you home, there's something I want to show you."

He started driving and I melted a little, at the way he had just made the decision without asking, without even considering that he would need to ask. And he didn't, I realized. I trusted him, and more importantly, I liked when he took control. Most girls don't like being bossed around, he said. But I did.

Tony nodded to the aux cord, "You wanna put some music on? You always pick great songs at the cafe."

"Should I?" I asked timidly, testing him.

"Yeah, play something nice for me," Tony said casually. He turned a corner, his strong hands moving confidently on the steering wheel. I bit my lip and queued up some music. I clipped my phone into the phone mount on his dashboard and fretted with my hands.

So weird. So funny. Silly Tony, treating me like a girl, like a soft submissive girl, when I obviously was not one of those at all. Just because of my height, and the way I was dressed, and the fact that I had let slip several times that I liked being treated that way.

There was a war going on in my head, part of me screaming that this was sick and wrong and I should tell Tony off and storm out like a man, and another part telling me to give in, to let Tony take the lead and treat me however he wanted. I just stayed quiet, watching Tony as he drove. Now and then he would glance over to me with a smile, and I would smile back. There was nothing wrong with smiling back.

"Here we are," Tony said, pulling into the driveway of a rustic little house. He turned down the music. "So, I was thinking--"

There was a loud ding and a text alert popped up on my lockscreen.

[OH, WOW.]

It was a new message from Gigi. I stared at my phone in horror. Another ding.

[THAT'S A LOT TO UNPACK, EM.]

I should've grabbed my phone. I should've pulled it away before Tony saw whatever she said next. But instead I just sat there, frozen.

Another ding.

[DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN HE TREATS YOU LIKE A GIRL?]

My blood ran cold. I closed my eyes. It didn't matter what else Gigi said. That would do it.

"Oh, fuck," Tony said, "Oh fuck, Emmy. Emmett!"

"It's okay!" I said quickly. I didn't want him to start feeling guilty because of my own stupid issues. "That was just something dumb I told her, I know you weren't really--"

"No, you're right, I totally was," Tony groaned, "Fuck, dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just you're so small and cute, and you're not like the other guys I've been with, and, fuck, I guess some wires just got crossed in my head or something..."

He slumped in his seat, looking pained, and I realized suddenly that Tony had been struggling just as much as me tonight.

"Is that so bad?" I said quietly.

Tony stopped, "What?"

"W-well..." my voice was shaky, and so were my hands, but I felt like I had to say something, if not now then maybe never, and it all just came flooding out, "Everybody has these rules, these expectations, about how we're supposed to act, and who we're supposed to be, and how we're supposed to treat each other. A-and, maybe they're wrong, you know? I spent this whole night worrying, trying to act like a good man, or a good date, or, or a good bowler," I blushed, ""And my grandma wants me to be this perfect grandson, and, and maybe I'm not meant to be any of those things?"

"You're a great date, Emmy," Tony said softly, then winced, "Fuck. Emmett, sorry."

"Emmy's okay," I said.

"Yeah?" said Tony, "I mean... do you prefer it? Or do you prefer Emmett?"

I knew which one I preferred, and it wasn't even close. But sitting there in Tony's passenger seat, looking up at his beautiful, conflicted face, there was another answer I wanted to give.

"Whatever you want," I said softly.

Tony looked at me, his soulful eyes searching me intently, for a long, long moment. He still looked conflicted, but finally he must have made up his mind, and he smirked a little, and my heart raced, and then he leaned in and kissed me.

His lips were so hot, so hot they made me gasp, so hot they gave me goosebumps, so hot I should have been scared. But I wasn't. Tony kissed me so gently, so carefully, like he didn't want to bruise me, like he knew how powerful and dangerous his kisses were and he wanted to make sure I would survive. I whimpered against his lips, cooed as he put his hand on my cheek and stroked me softly with his thumb, accepted his kisses passively, eagerly, for as long as he wanted.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe Tony Pérez was kissing me. The man I had envied for so long, the man I had, I realized now, absolutely been crushing on for so long, had me in the palm of his hand, and he was holding me like I was so precious, like I was this perfect special beautiful thing, and he was so handsome and strong and kind and amazing and, god, he was a really good kisser.

Finally Tony drew back and smiled at me, warm and caring but with a burning undercurrent of lust.

"You really are cute, Emmy," he said, "You make a really cute girl."

I beamed back at him and he grinned.

"I've been wanting to do that all n--" he began, but by then I had unbuckled my seatbelt and scrambled onto his lap to kiss him again.

**************NSFW****************

My heart was racing as Tony led me into his house. I wanted this, I most definitely wanted this, and I was ready to do anything Tony wanted. But what did he want? Obviously Tony was a lot more experienced than me, with men and with women, and even though I would definitely prefer if he treated me like that latter, I had no idea what to expect. More kisses would be amazing, and being held in his big strong arms, and maybe, my breath quickened, maybe it would even be nice to see him with his shirt off...

"This way, babygirl," Tony said, and my heartrate kicked up a notch. Yep, yep, definitely wanted to see him with his shirt off, and maybe with his pants off too, and if he wanted me to touch it, well, it might be a bit scary but I would see what I could do.

Tony led me into a dimly lit room and I gasped. It was his kitchen, which must also be his dining room because there was a dining table set out, with a tablecloth and everything. The room was lit by dozens of little candles, filling the room with soft, flickering light and sweet scents. There was music playing from a speaker, too, a slow love song I had been too lost in thought to notice on the way in. It was the most romantic sight I had ever seen.

Not that there was a lot of competition, to be fair.

"Tony!" I hugged his arm tight, "Is this for me? How?"

Tony smiled proudly, "My roommate. And his girlfriend. Okay, probably mostly his girlfriend. They don't really believe in Valentine's Day, but when you said you didn't want the date to end, I figured you deserved something a little special."

"Oh!" I blushed, "Um. Should we go thank them?"

"Oh, uh," Tony looked sheepish, "I asked them to clear out, too. I'm gonna owe them a few favors."

"Tony!" I giggled, "You must have been feeling very confident."

"I just wanted some privacy!" he protested, "I still figured you were kind of a straight guy, and I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable with a bunch of strangers hanging around. I figured we would have dessert, or I would make you some coffee or something, then I would drive you home. I just wanted you to have a special night."

Okay, that settled it.

I grabbed Tony's shirt and stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes, "Where's your bedroom?"

I was definitely gonna touch it.

"Emmy, I swear, I didn't--"

"Tony, this is so sweet, and so lovely, and you are so, so amazing," I said, "But I think if I try and sit down and eat right now I'm literally going to explode, so please, please, take me to your bedroom right away."

Tony blinked.

"If that's what you want," I added quickly.

Tony didn't even bother answering, he just scooped me up and rushed out of the room. I clung to his shoulders, giggling with giddy anticipation, feeling hot and squirmy and happy, until he tossed me down on the bed and whipped off his shirt.

"Yay!" I clapped excitedly and Tony laughed. Well, how was I supposed to react? His body was as amazing as I thought it would be, so big and strong, with little traces of abs, his deep tanned skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat after our vigorous make-out session in the car. I was still wearing his jacket, so I wriggled out of it quickly while Tony helped me with my shoes. I sighed happily. Now that I was giving into the girl thing, I really liked being treated like a princess.

"So eager, Emmy," Tony grinned, "Someone's a little bit of a slut."

Oh my god. My heart leapt in my chest. I was very okay with being treated like a slut, too. Did Tony have access to my search history or something?

Tony clambered onto the bed and climbed on top of me, leaning over me with a hungry look in his eye. I whined needily and pulled him close, clutching at his broad, muscular back. God, I needed to be kissed! Couldn't he see that? Why was he making me wait?

"Poor little slutty Emmy," Tony teased, "So desperate to be kissed, but too shy to ask."

I whimpered and pouted up at him, silently begging him with my eyes. Of course I wanted to kiss him! I had literally just been kissing him! But he couldn't expect me to actually say that, could he? What would people think!

He finally took pity on me and gave me another kiss, and I moaned blissfully into his mouth, eagerly accepting his hot, strong tongue between my lips. Mmm. Soooo good. I ran my hands up and down his back, enjoying the feeling of his shirtless body, and wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him in closer.

"Mmm," I cooed, "My big strong man..."

Tony stopped kissing me and I blushed. Too much! Too soon! "Sorry! Sorry, sorry, I don't know why I said that."

Tony smirked, "You want me to be your man, Emmy?"

I felt hot and anxious but I nodded shyly. Tony grinned.

"I'll be your man," he said, "But then you're gonna be my woman, Emmy. You're gonna let me take care of you. You're gonna do everything I say."

I gasped with arousal and nodded eagerly. Tony's eyes gleamed.

"Fuck, I love how submissive you are," he said, "It's so fucking hot."

I melted at the compliment. He liked that I was submissive. I wasn't screwing up or disappointing him, he thought it was hot. He kissed me again, hard and hungry, his tongue thrusting deep into my willing mouth. That's when I felt something hard pressing against my butt.

My eyes widened and Tony pulled his hips back a bit, but I tightened my legs and pulled myself back against him. Oh my god, he was hard! His cock was hard! For me! Tony Pérez wanted to fuck me!

Tony broke the kiss and started to say something, but my hands were already diving for his fly. I wasn't sure what I would do once his dick was out, but that was for Tony to worry about.

"Damn, Emmy, you don't fuck around," Tony laughed.

"No sir," I grinned. Something dark and hungry flashed in Tony's eyes and I felt a happy, horny little shiver through my body.

"Good idea, Emmy," Tony growled, "Let's get those pants off."

I nodded quickly, until I realized Tony wasn't talking about his own pants. Before I could even blink, Tony was pulling down my tight jeans, exposing my bare legs and my tiny throbbing bulge. I blushed. This was the closest anyone had ever come to seeing my dick, and I knew it was nothing to be proud of.

"So cute, Emmy," Tony smirked, "It's a good thing you're a girl."

"Yes, sir," I smiled up at him. He tossed our pants off the bed then kissed me again, grinding his thick, hard bulge against my little one. He squeezed my ass hard and I gasped and whimpered as we made out, rubbing desperately against his cock, wanting more and more and more. A million repressed fantasies were running through my head, hundreds of half-remembered horny stories with Tony now playing the male role. I didn't even know where to begin, I just knew that whatever Tony did to me was going to be incredible.

Tony pulled away, cruelly, wickedly, and flopped onto his side next to me.

"I'm really glad you came over," he smiled.

"Me tooooo," I whined.

I tried to inch my fingers towards his bulge, but it was just a little too far out of reach.

"And I'm really happy I got to help you discover something about yourself," he said.

I sighed happily, "Yeah."

I wiggled closer on the bed and reached out again. Tony caught my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. I swallowed a frustrated whine.

"And I know this is your first time doing anything like this," he said, "So we can take it as slow as you--"

"Can I suck your cock please?" I blurted out.

Tony's jaw dropped and I clapped my hands over my mouth in horror. He started laughing and I rolled over and buried my head under a pillow.

"Emmy!" he said, "What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" I squeaked.

"Oh really?" said Tony, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, "Didn't sound like nothing."

He pulled the pillow away, and I quickly covered my face with my hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was too much. That was so bad. That was not letting Tony take control.

He rolled me back towards him. I desperately hoped that I hadn't grossed him out. I peeked out through my fingers and saw him smiling. That was a good sign. I could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, against my thigh. That was a very good sign.

"Well, well, well," Tony said, "Shy little Emmy doesn't wanna take it slow, huh?"

I whined anxiously, but when he reached for my hand I let him take it away. He stroked my cheek gently, his eyes warm and compassionate.

"It's okay, Emmy," he said, "You can tell me what you want."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, "It's okay, baby..."

He kissed me softly on the forehead and moved my other hand away too. I tilted my head up hopefully and he kissed me on the lips, nice and warm and soft. I made a little happy murmur and reached for his shoulders, pulling him weakly towards me. He rolled on top of me, resting his weight on his forearms and knees so I wouldn't get squished. I wouldn't have minded if he squished me a little bit, though. It felt so nice being underneath him, being surrounded and covered by his big strong body. I felt safe and cozy down here, with Tony still stroking my cheek and giving me little kisses. I should've known it would be okay. He was my man, after all. The thought filled me with joy and comfort and relief, even as I was still shaking with nerves.

"Did you get embarrassed, Emmy?" he said quietly.

I nodded shakily, "Mhm."

"How come?"

I shook my head, too ashamed to speak.

"Is it because you felt a little slutty?" Tony said.

I whined softly and nodded.

"Because you want my hard cock in your mouth?" Tony said, his voice a breathy growl in my ear.

Oh, god! I let out a desperate moan, unbidden from my throat.

Tony grinned, "What's that, baby? I didn't hear you."

I whined and bit my lip, but Tony was unyielding, smirking down at me with great pleasure.

"If my cute little slut wants a treat, she's gonna have to ask for it," he said.

I whimpered and squirmed, gazing up at Tony's handsome face. He smiled back at me, a wicked cocky smile. There was an edge in his voice I had never heard before. Not at work, not on our date, not even when he was teasing me. A few times before, I had seen Tony be doubtful, worried that he was doing the wrong thing, treating me the wrong way. There was no doubt anymore, not now that he knew I was just a silly little slutty girl.

A thought hit me suddenly. Did Tony always suspect? Subconsciously, he had been treating me like a girl tonight. Was there another part of his subconscious that already knew? Is that why he really asked me out? Because he could tell that I was just a soft submissive slut, no matter how hard I tried to be a real man?

I must have seemed so stupid, trying to pretend I was something I wasn't. It was so clear now. Being a man was always so hard, because it wasn't what I was supposed to be. I was supposed to be a girl. I was supposed to be Tony's cute little slut. It would be so easy. All I had to do was ask and I could get all the hard cock I needed from my big, strong man...

"Please.." I whispered

"Yes, Emmy? Please what?" Tony smirked, but despite the cockiness there was still kindness in his eyes, and I knew that if I asked him to, he would stop right away. He would drop the teasing and lie with me and give me cuddles and tell me everything was gonna be okay.

But I didn't want to stop.

"Please can I suck your cock?" I whispered.

Tony grinned and kissed me again, then pulled back, resting on his knees. He cupped his bulge in his hands, showing off the thick, hard cock inside his boxers, ready and waiting for my eager little mouth. His eyes burned with cool, hungry dominance.

"Yeah, baby, you can suck my cock," he said, "Why don't you come and get it?"

I felt giddy and light-headed, grinning like an idiot as I scrambled up and joined him on my knees. There it was, pressing against his boxers, leaving a dark stain of wet precum at the tip. Tony's cock! Tony's big, hard, delicious cock, all for me, dripping and ready to be sucked. I could feel myself salivating at the thought of having it inside me.

I tugged down his boxers and gasped at the sight. Tony's cock was gorgeous, long and smooth and perfect. I never thought a cock could be gorgeous like that. Mine wasn't, it was small and ugly and useless, nothing like Tony's. His cock was as manly and powerful as the rest of him, and I realized now that this was the only cock I was ever meant to use. This was the only way I was ever meant to use a cock, not to fuck someone else with, but to take inside me, to pleasure with my body until it filled me with delicious creamy sperm.

"Easy, Emmy," Tony said, "Deep breaths."

I hadn't realized how quickly I was breathing, but god, I really was. Tony took my hand and helped me steady myself. I couldn't help but feel impatient. God, I had never been this horny before. I had thought I would be nervous, and I was, but I was desperate to start playing with his cock as soon as possible. Still, it soothed me when I saw his beautiful smile, and even more when he kissed me again.

"You can take this slow," he reminded me.

"I don't wanna," I whined, "I need it..."

Tony shook his head in amused disbelief, "Such a little slut, who would've thought? Shy little Emmy, so eager to choke on my cock."

I blushed hard. God, Tony! I should've known he would be good at dirty talk. His filthy words were like music to my ears. Were there really girls who didn't like this?

"You really wanna suck it, Emmy?" said Tony, "You want my cock between your lips? Thrusting deep into your tight little throat? You want my cum inside you?"

"Yes, please!" I smiled up at him adoringly. Even on our knees he was so much taller than me.

"I dunno," Tony mused, "We had such a great night, I'd hate to ruin it with something you don't really want."

"Tonyyyy!' I whined, "I want to!"

"What do you want, Emmy?" Tony teased.

"I want to suck your big cock, please!" I begged, "Please let me suck your cock, Tony. It's so big and so hard and you're so hot and I like you so much and I really really want you to cum in me please, please, please!"

"Shit, Emmy," Tony laughed, "Thank god my roommates aren't home."

I blushed bright red but the truth was I didn't really care. Any embarrassment would be worth itif it meant getting to suck Tony's cock. I just wanted to make him feel good, I needed it. He was so sweet to me tonight, so kind and patient when I didn't deserve it, when I was being stupid and annoying and sulky, even when I was just a stupid ugly boy whining about girls not liking me. He was there for me, reaching out to give me what I didn't know I needed, and now I just wanted to repay him in some small way.

And also, just for my own benefit, I really wanted to suck his cock. It looked really good.

I slipped my hand down, and my delicate fingers grasped around his thick, throbbing cock. I gasped. It was so hot, boiling hot, and as hard as steel. I could feel a hot, slippery, sticky liquid against my palm. His precum, oh my god, his precum was on me, leaking out from his beautiful cock onto me, touching my skin, marking me as his.

"Please, Tony?" I whispered, eyes wide, lips trembling.

"Of course, baby," he said, "Whenever you want."

Oh my god, my heart felt like it was going to burst. Whenever I want? His whole big cock, just for me, whenever I wanted it! I knew what he really meant, and that he wasn't actually saying I could have it whenever I wanted, that if I wanted to drop to the floor in the middle of the cafe tomorrow to suck a big thick load of creamy cum from his cock in the middle of my shift I could just do that, but god, the thought was hard to let go of.

But... I had never sucked a cock before.

I had fantasized about it. Okay? I admit it. I had fantasized about it a lot. It was one of the main subjects in those stories I had read. Only, when I imagined it, I wasn't really the one taking the lead.

"Um, Tony?" I said nervously.

"Yeah, Emmy?" he said, his patient brown eyes filled with nothing but affection, even though his voice was strained with lust.

"Could you..." I shivered. This was embarrassing, gosh this was so embarrassing, even after everything we had already done. Just this afternoon I was insisting I was a straight man, and now I was about to tell Tony my deepest, darkest fantasy, the one I had never thought I would tell anyone, not even my future wife. But I needed this. And I could trust him, he was safe, he would look after me, he was my man. And honestly, the future wife was starting to look like a longshot.

I took a deep breath, "Could you, um, could you take control?"

Tony's brow creased, "Like... like you want me to, uh, to move your head by myself?"

I nodded quickly. Yes, that was it. Putting it mildly, anyway. I knew he would get it. He was so smart, so capable, so sexy. He had probably done this tons of times, but I could still see the glimmer of lust at the thought of doing it to me.

"Like... use me," I whispered, "Claim my mouth for yourself... fuck my throat..."

"Fuck, Emmy," Tony grinned, "I can definitely do that. It might be a bit rough, though."

"That's okay!" I said.

"Especially for your first time," he warned me. His face looked conflicted, torn between wanting to protect me and wanting to fuck me hard.

"I'll do my best," I said earnestly.

"Okay," he said, and his eyes gleamed with lust, "Tap my thigh if you need to stop, okay?"

"Yes, sir," I said, but I was already thinking to myself that there was no way I would be tapping his thigh. Not if it hurt, not if I started to choke, not even if I couldn't breathe. I was too excited.

Tony shook his head ruefully, "You dirty little slut. I'm gonna enjoy this."

I beamed up at him, and then he slid his hand around the back of my head, hooked his fingers into my hair, and pulled me down to his cock. He got in position, resting back against the headboard, making himself comfortable as he dragged me after him on my hands and knees. I whimpered softly, my eyes fixed on his pulsing, drooling cock. So beautiful. So thick. So powerful. Full of Tony's hot cum, just for me.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, but before I could think straight, Tony was already pulling my wet little mouth over the head of his cock. I gasped, but my voice was muffled. It was so big, so big, so thick and strong, stretching my soft pouty lips as Tony thrusted into me. It pressed against the roof of my mouth and I ran my tongue curiously along the tip. His precum was delicious, so salty and musky, and I moaned whorishly around his cock.

And then Tony kept going, pulling me deeper onto his cock, deeper, deeper, pressing into my mouth, popping the fat head in between my lips. Like a wedge, so easy to get in and so hard to take back out. Already I could feel him knocking at my throat, tickling my gag reflex, and my tummy kicked but I didn't tap Tony's leg. I was a good girl, I could take it, I would take it all for my man without making a--

Oh god oh god oh god!

I tapped Tony's leg furiously and he pulled out, leaving me gagging and gasping for air.

"Oh shit, Emmy," he said, "Are you okay?"

"Mhm!" I gave him a teary-eyed thumbs up.

"Sorry, baby," he said, "Deep-throating is really hard. You were doing amazing, maybe next time--"

I was already diving back down, my mouth wide and tongue darting for his cock. Tony laughed and pushed me down again.

"Good girl," he said, "That's my good girl, Emmy. Relax your throat. Take that big cock."

His cock slipped between my lips, easier this time, already lubed up with my saliva. It pressed against my throat and I gagged again, but this time I just let it happen, let my throat jolt and kick until it calmed down, then let Tony push me down further. I gazed up at him with wide, worshipful eyes, trying to show just how much I loved being down here, being stretched over his thick cock, not able to talk, just there to be fucked.

Tony nodded and pushed me down deeper and I moaned, feeling the blunt head of his cock filling up my throat. God, it was so big, too big! I couldn't take it, but I had to. It wasn't my throat anymore, just Tony's cocksleeve. I was no longer Emmy, no longer a person, just a sloppy wet toy to make Tony's cock feel good. Toys didn't get to tap out. Toys didn't get to make decisions. Toys just got to be played with.

I could feel a wave of submission washing over me, warm and soothing and calm. No more choices. No more thinking. No more worrying if I was doing the right thing. All my responsibilities were stripped away. There was just Tony, and his cock, using me however he wanted.

It felt wonderful.

Tony smacked my ass with his other hand and I moaned blissfully. Yes, Tony! Use me, use any part of my body you want, make me yours. He kept playing with my ass, spanking and squeezing and groping and his cock pressed deeper, deeper still, stretching my throat, making me gag and choke. I loved every second of it. I had been so unhappy, such a sad useless loser boy, and then Tony turned me into something beautiful. First a silly, slutty girl, and now his warm, wet fucktoy, and... and I loved him for it.

It was too soon to say, way too soon to say, or even to think, honestly. This was only our first date, after all. God, what kind of slut lets a boy fuck her throat on their first date? But it was true, though. I loved him. How could I not? He was so kind, so sweet, and then so cocky and fierce and powerful. He knew just how to dominate me, how to use me, how to give me the fantasy I never thought would be possible. Okay, maybe it wasn't love. Maybe later on I would see Tony at work and we would laugh about this together. But god, whatever it was, it was pretty fucking amazing.

These were big thoughts for a toy.

As if he could read my mind, Tony tightened his grip in my hair and pulled me down hard. His cock pistoned deep into my throat, filling me up, stretching me out the whole way down. I moaned and my eyes rolled back in my head as a little gleek of saliva squirted out of my mouth. I felt so helpless, so wonderfully helpless.

"Fuck, Emmy," Tony moaned, "That feels so fucking good. Your throat was made to be fucked."

I felt a surge of pride, both from his beautiful, sexy, degrading words, and from the fact that I had already worked that out myself. I was such a smart little toy.

Tony pulled my head back up, dragging his cock out of my throat, then shoved it back down again. He slammed my head up and down again and again, pounding his cock deep into my throat, bucking his hips up at me, smacking my face against his tummy. I felt dizzy, light-headed and ecstatic. I was right where I belonged. Tony's slutty horny little fleshlight, tight and sloppy wet around his cock.

"You can touch yourself, baby," Tony grunted, "I want you to feel good."

I whined with arousal and love, but poor, beautiful Tony didn't realize that I didn't want to touch myself. That was the whole point, that I couldn't do anything, that I had no purpose, no priorities except to be used for Tony's pleasure. Making him feel good was better than anything I could do to myself, and his cock pounding into me was everything I could ever ask for.

Tony picked up the pace and for a moment I really couldn't breathe, my nose pressing too tight and too rapid against his body to take in air. It didn't matter, though. I didn't need oxygen, just cock, wonderful cock, thrusting into me faster, faster, faster...

And I knew Tony wouldn't hurt me.

"Fuck, Emmy," Tony gasped, "I'm gonna cum."

I squeaked with delight and clutched tight to Tony's waist, pulling my lips tight against his body, sucking as hard as I could until finally Tony let out an adorable little whimper. I almost giggled. It was so unlike him, a little moment of vulnerability amidst all his dominance, and it made me love him even more. I felt his cock pulse inside me, flooding my throat and my mouth with delicious salty creamy hot amazing cum. My eyes rolled back in my head and I moaned, loud and high and deeply satisfied, as my own useless little thing spurted a pathetic load between my legs.

Tony's cock pulsed faintly, shrinking inside my mouth, and I swallowed again and again, taking in all of his cum. It felt so good, even if the taste, okay, maybe wasn't quite as good as a margarita. But it was warm and filling and satisfying, and it was his. I licked my lips, gathering every last trace as I smiled wondrously up at my man.

"Holy shit, Emmy," Tony panted, "That was fucking incredible. You sure that wasn't too rough?"

I cooed with happiness and crawled up to nestle into his arm. He held me tight, kissing me softly on the forehead.

"That was seriously your first time?" he asked, "Nobody's ever been able to take my cock like that. I've never been able to let loose like that. Fuck, Emmy. And did you... did you cum at the end?"

I smiled and nodded sleepily, my heart fluttering with pride. I was too tired to say another word, too tired to do anything but cuddle against Tony and fall asleep.

"So fucking hot," Tony said, "You staying the night, baby?"

"Mhm," I murmured.

"You got face recognition on your phone?" he asked, "I'll text your roommate so she knows you're okay."

"Mmmm," I smiled. He was so perfect. I had so much to figure out, so much to deal with after tonight, but for now I could just rest. I didn't have to worry. I didn't have to do anything, or be anything. Tony would take care of me. I planted a sloppy, tired kiss against his chest and he sighed happily.

"Good girl, Emmy," he said, "My beautiful little slut. You cuddle up close, okay? Because I'm never letting you go."