Ash had never felt truly seen until he met Rowan.
They met at a queer book club--Ash was quiet, hiding behind the rim of his mug and a crop top two sizes too big. Rowan was warm and broad-shouldered, the kind of man who didn't just _see_ you--he noticed you.
Their first few dates were sweet and slow. Ash was nervous, but Rowan was patient--holding doors, complimenting his nailpolish, offering a calloused hand across busy streets. And when Ash told him that he sometimes wanted to be softer, cuter--more _girly_--Rowan's eyes lit up with quiet pride.
"I'd love to help you feel more like _you_," Rowan said. And he meant it.
---
Rowan bought Ash leg warmers first. They were pastel blue, and when Ash slipped them on and looked down at his skinny legs, he almost cried.
"You look adorable," Rowan whispered, running his hands gently up the soft knit. "You make cute things look cuter."
Ash blushed, biting his lip, and leaned into Rowan's chest. That night, Rowan let Ash curl up on his lap, warm in mittens and leg warmers, while they watched old anime and passed a joint back and forth. Ash dozed off with Rowan's hand brushing gently through his short blond hair.
The sundress came next. Rowan picked it out himself: light yellow, with little strawberries printed across the fabric.
"It's perfect," Ash whispered, holding it up against his chest. "You think I can pull this off?"
Rowan stepped behind him and kissed his neck. "You _own_ it, baby. Try it on."
And when Ash stepped out of the bedroom, flushed and fidgeting, Rowan pulled him in close, letting his big hands slide down the soft cotton and rest on Ash's slim waist. Next to Rowan's tall, broad frame, Ash looked practically doll-like--tiny and precious in his hands.
---
That weekend, they went to a quiet little café with outdoor seating. Ash wore the sundress Rowan had given him, the yellow fabric fluttering gently in the breeze. He sat across from Rowan at a small metal table, sipping chai from a tall glass mug. Rowan had a latte in hand, his eyes fixed on Ash with that same quiet admiration he always wore.
Rowan towered in his seat, legs spread comfortably beneath the table, taking up space in a way that made Ash feel smaller, more delicate by comparison.
As they chatted about books and plans for the week, Rowan reached under the table and rested a warm hand on Ash's thigh. Ash nearly choked on his sip of chai, blushing fiercely, but didn't stop him. The pressure of Rowan's hand was grounding, possessive, and gentle all at once.
"You're glowing today," Rowan said softly. "That dress is practically made for you."
Ash looked away, lips curling into a shy smile. "You really think so?"
"I _know_ so."
Later, at home, Ash stood between Rowan's legs in the living room, the sundress still on, brushing against Rowan's knees. Rowan leaned back on the couch, shirt half-open, watching him with dark, hungry eyes.
Ash dropped slowly to his knees, fingers trembling slightly as he undid Rowan's belt. He freed Rowan's cock, already thick and heavy in his hand. It was always a little intimidating--Rowan was well-endowed, wide and long, warm and pulsing against Ash's palm. In Ash's smaller hands, it looked even bigger, almost obscene--and he loved that. Loved the way it made him feel: tiny, cherished, desired.
He looked up, locking eyes with Rowan, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip. Rowan groaned softly, hand tangling in Ash's hair.
Ash opened his mouth and took him in slowly, stretching his lips around the girth, sucking gently, tongue swirling with care. He moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the weight of Rowan's cock in his mouth, the heat and tension building in Rowan's thick thighs under his fingertips.
Rowan moaned low and deep, his hand guiding Ash gently but firmly. "You're so good at this, kitten. Just like that."
Ash hummed around him, the vibrations making Rowan twitch in his mouth. He bobbed his head, taking more each time, drool slipping down his chin, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the rhythm.
