The Reluctant Tin Man's New Clothes

Ambrose looked at his pocket watch. Only half an hour left until the guests arrived for their Christmas party. He'd tried to explain the occasion and told them to dress to the nines. D.G. was the only one who had no idea. He couldn't wait to see her face. She would be so surprised!

For the third time already, he went over his mental check list: the soup was simmering on the stove, the roast was in the oven, he'd set the table, and laid out a suit for Cain. Everything was ready. He checked himself over in the mirror one last time and left the bathroom.

When he emerged he found Cain in front of the standing mirror, eying the outfit he'd chosen for him suspiciously: a plain black woolen suit with a vest and a white high collar shirt with a matching tie. Ambrose thought Cain looked absolutely stunning in the outfit. He himself had picked a dark red velvet suit and a cream-colored shirt. They would look gorgeous together.

Cain turned around, his eyes pleading with Ambrose. "Do I have to wear this?" he nearly whined, spreading his arms. The shirt was only halfway buttoned. The tie hung loosely around his neck.

"Don't you want to look pretty tonight?" Ambrose chided.

The frown on Cain's forehead deepened. "No, you want me to look pretty. I only want to survive this."

"I always want you to look good," the advisor teased. He stepped up to Cain and started doing up the remaining buttons.

Cain caught his hands in his own and pulled him closer until they were pressed together. "Why don't we just forget about this stupid party and spent the night with something more fun?" he whispered into his ear, sucking lightly on the earlobe. Slowly, he wandered over to his lips, lapping at the corner of his mouth until Ambrose finally returned the kiss.

For a moment, Ambrose reveled in the sensation. He was about to just give in. He could feel Cain's heartbeat increasing against the palm of his hand. Cain's fingers wandered under his velvet jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Then they fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, hidden underneath the lace. He could feel Cain's impatient growl vibrating against his lips.

That brought Ambrose out of his stupor and he regained control over his body. He broke the kiss and took a step back, slightly out of breath. Ocean blue eyes bore into him, seducing him, luring him in, almost drowning him.

Shaking his head, he panted, "No! It took me a week to prepare everything for tonight. We're gonna have this party and you're gonna enjoy yourself, mister."

But the Tin Man didn't relent that easily. He grabbed him around the waist and drew him in again, sucking bruises into his neck. Ambrose struggled against the strong grip and finally managed to push Cain away. "Wyatt Cain! That's enough!" he scolded, "What are you, a spoiled brat? You're not gonna get your will tonight!"

Cain didn't have enough yet though. He grabbed him again, his fingers firmly digging into Ambrose's buttocks this time, and ground their hips together. "Would a brat do this?" he rasped. Ambrose could already feel the growing bulge pressing into him. But the advisor was not in the mood. He was fuming by now.

Without further hesitation, he grabbed the tie, still hanging loosely around Cain's neck, and tied a knot into it, tight enough to choke the Tin Man. "Get dressed!" he ordered.

Cain had to let go to free himself, and Ambrose used this opportunity to escape from the bedroom.

Only now did he realize that someone had been knocking several times already. When he opened the door he was still flushed, his collar undone, and a bright purple bruise spread on the right side of his neck.

Jeb stood in the door, looking him over bemusedly. "Am I interrupting something?" he grinned.

Ambrose didn't catch his innuendo. "Your father's just being difficult…" he sighed.

"Yeah, I can see that!" The younger Cain pointed at his neck for emphasis.

Only now did Ambrose catch on. He stepped up to the mirror hanging next to the door and his face froze as he examined his reflection. "Wyatt!" he growled and stormed through the bedroom into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

Jeb followed carefully and leaned in the doorframe to the bedroom. He watched his father struggle with the shirt's collar. "Was that really necessary? He's been looking forward to this all week. And you have to go and ruin his evening," he lectured.

"Watch it! I'll tell you when you're old enough to lecture me, son!" he tried to look threatening, but failed miserably, as he was still trying to fasten the tiny buttons, his features contorted in concentration. Eventually, he gave up and sighed in frustration, "You're right. It's just… whenever I see this stiff necked costume Glitch likes to put me in, I want to run away… This isn't me! I don't even know how to put it on…"

His son smiled at him sympathetically. "Go and apologize. And, who knows, if you're a good boy, maybe he'll even help you dress…" He was interrupted by another knock on the door. "Meanwhile, I'll take care of your guests." With this he left the room and closed the sliding doors behind him.

Once the doors to the living room had shut, the door behind Cain opened and Ambrose came out, looking as impeccably as before. "See, Tin Man, I told you you're a brat! Why didn't you just ask me to help you get dressed?" he was still scolding but now his voice was colored with amusement.

"I'm a grown man. I can dress myself," Cain pouted, embarrassed.

Ambrose fastened the last buttons on his shirt and straightened the collar. He rubbed his cheek along Cain's stubble and purred, "You know the only thing I like better than dressing you is undressing you…" Cain could feel his breath ghost over his skin and the smile spreading on Ambrose's lips. He shuddered. The confession had made his fantasy run wild and he hoped for more.

But the advisor was already dancing out of his reach and to the bed where he took the vest, holding it out for Cain who eyed it grudgingly. "Come on, boy scout. Here's the deal: put on the vest and we'll forget about the tie and the jacket," Ambrose offered, waving the garment at him.

Cain relented and slipped into the vest presented to him. Ambrose buttoned it and turned the Tin Man toward the mirror. "Now, don't you look absolutely fabulous?" he whispered from behind Cain's back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He wrapped his arms around the broad chest. "And I promise, if you behave yourself, you'll get a reward later," he winked at their reflection.

And with that, he turned and sauntered to the door, leaving Cain to stare after him, dumbfounded. Ambrose snapped his fingers, "Come! Our guests are waiting." Cain could only obey and follow after his master.