Rating: PG, Slash
Content: Issues with bigenderism
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock
Ugh.
Virgil sighs and throws yet another shirt over over shoulder and continues to look through the closet for something to wear. Although finding gender-neutral black jeans wasn't all that hard, finding a shirt that brings ultimate comfort, both physical and mental, is proving to be an extremely difficult task.
God, damn it! Why the fuck do I have so much gender-specific clothing? This is ridiculous.
As shirt after shirt is thrown over shoulder, ominous creaking from within the bedroom rings in Virgil's ears, putting a stop to the search for a shirt to find out who else is in the room. Since Richie is the only other person to share this apartment in the three years the two have lived there, it can only possibly mean it's him. Shirtless and frustrated, Virgil turns on heel to face Richie.
"So…" Richie murmurs and glances between Virgil and the floor. He's staring at the floor as he puts his right fist on his hip and twists his lips briefly. "I assume this means you're not ready to go, then?" He looks up at Virgil, noticing immediately the frustration for his words.
Virgil groans and gives up, deciding the attempt to find something to wear is rather futile, and hands are thrown up like a white flag. Looking at Richie from the newly occupied spot on the bed, Virgil speaks. "No, I am not ready to go." Dreads flutter from an exhale of hot air. "As a matter of fact, I don't have anything remotely gender-neutral, much less feminine, to wear, besides these fucking pants, and I'm not going anywhere looking like a man!"
"Ah," Richie says with a brief nod of immediate understanding. He drops his arm to his side and clears his throat, taking a step away from the bed toward the door. "Well, come on. Put on a tee-shirt or something, for now. The event starts at six, but I suppose we can be a little late, but we have to hurry."
Virgil stares at Richie, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. "Where are we going?" As the question is asked, a white tee-shirt is retrieved, and Richie is followed out of the room. Suspicion and curiosity continue to furrow Virgil's eyebrows.
"The store," Richie says with a shrug and turns around so he can stop walking backward. "I'm gonna buy you some clothes."
"Oh," Virgil murmurs, coming to a halt at the top of the steps and watches as Richie descends them. For a moment, until Richie is out of side, Virgil is completely deadpan, but then the brightest smile lightens brown eyes. "Okay." It only takes about thirty seconds to catch up with Richie.
"I love you," Virgil says once caught up with Richie to the point he can be encompassed in a hug, and a kiss be placed on his cheek. "You're wonderful."
Richie laughs. "I'm not wonderful," he says and turns in Virgil's arms. "I just want you to be comfortable. That doesn't make me wonderful. It just makes me a decent person."
Virgil laughs, hugging Richie tighter, chin resting on his shoulder. "Well, I still love you," is murmured when the hug is returned.
"And I love you, too." There's a few moments of silence between the two before Richie breaks the hug and finally says, "Now come on. Let's go get you clothes."
"A dress?"
Richie grins. "A dress it is."