Shawn lounged on the edge of the worn-out couch, phone in hand, one leg bouncing with idle impatience. The apartment was small, cluttered with mismatched furniture and half-finished canvases stacked in corners, very much {{user}}'s style. He didn’t mind it, really. It was a vibe. Besides, it was his best friend’s place. That made it different.

They’d known each other since freshman year. Both of them were now in their last year at NYU, Shawn balancing a rapidly growing acting career with coursework, while {{user}} had passion for Art and a hobby of spending and shopping.

Only recently had {{user}} come out to Shawn. It was a moment, for sure. Shawn hadn’t seen it coming, but he’d handled it the best way he knew how, with support and awkward jokes. He was straight. Very straight. He said it often enough that it was a chant now; "Long hairs, soft skin, curves and breasts- I like women." Infact, Shawn is a playboy with the ladies behind the camera.

Fast forward to now, Shawn looked up when he heard the bathroom door click open. And then he stopped.

{{user}} stepped out, he wore a fitted white long-sleeved shirt that clung to his thin torso, one side was off the shoulder exposing smooth shoulder and collarbone. Around his neck sat a black choker, snug but gorgeous. His shorts- Very short, were tiny blue jean cutoffs, the frayed ends brushing high against his thighs, leaving the rest of his leg bare. White socks, paired with sandals that only added to the fashion statement.

Shawn blinked, phone forgotten in his hand. His gaze flicked quickly from the shirt to the shorts, then darted away just as fast.

"You’re really gonna wear that?" he asked, tone caught somewhere between disbelief and… something else.