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Yancy cursed, pushing his hair out of his face with a huff. He grabbed his phone and opened a new tab, searching for another website to explain. The instructions here were bare boned and not helpful at all.
He sighed, setting the scissors down and turning away from the mirror. He had the nipple patches on, he had the rectangles cut out and they were rounded, just like literally everyone told him.
He just didn’t know how to put it on.
The package had come unexpectedly and he had hurried to get home from his walk before Illi woke up and checked the mail. It’s not that he was ashamed, per se. He just… didn’t want to answer questions before he put it on.
Binders were an immediate no-go - his ribs hurt enough with just a cotton sports bra on. And he had heard enough warnings of keeping them on too long and he knew he would forget or purposefully not take it off. The trans tape had been an impulsive purchase late at night, curled up behind Illinois after another nightmare.
And now it was here. And it’s more daunting than he imagined.
He took a deep breath and grabbed the abandoned rectangle, eyeing a diagram as he attempted to copy. The instructions made it seem so simple, and he was struggling.
He dropped the piece when he heard the bedroom door open and Illinois’ voice, tired and a bit concerned. “Doll? You okay in there?”
Shit. Of course he’d come looking for him. He had promised to come right to bed when he came home, and now he was holed up in the bathroom. “Yeah, I’m all goods, Ills!”
“You sure?” The doorknob jiggled and Yancy lunged to try and lock it, but it was too late. The door opened just a bit and Illinois peeked in, raising his eyebrows at the sight. “What’s… happening in here?”
God, was there even a point with lying? What lie would he even come up with? Wax is too expensive babe, I figured duct tape would do the trick!
Yeah, right.
Yancy sighed and opened the door fully, holding up the piece he had in his hands. “… I’s was just tryna put this on. It ain’t working very well.”
There was a brief moment of silence that felt way too long. Yancy lived and died a million deaths as Illinois stared at him and put two and two together.
“Lemme see that.” Illinois came forward and took the phone from him, frowning at the screen. He pursed his lips and tilted the phone slightly, as if that would help him understand. “They’re making it seem like you’re supposed to know what to do.”
“Right?!” He sighed and dropped the piece again, leaning against the wall and staring at him. “It’s being so stupid.”
“Can I help you, doll- Er, Yanc?” Illinois caught himself as he realized he had a few questions to ask Yancy. When Yancy nodded, he took the piece from him and tried his best to follow along with the piss-poor instructions, murmuring an apology.
Satisfied, he takes a step back and drops the plastic backing. Illinois gently coaxed him in front of the mirror, smiling when he saw Yancy biting his lip and admiring himself.
Illinois takes the liberty of tidying up, throwing away the trash and putting the rest of the roll somewhere to be kept safe. “Looks good, huh?”
“Yeah.” He’s positively beaming, tugging a shirt on and smoothing it out. “Thank you, Illi.”
“Of course.” Illinois kisses the side of his head and pulls him back against him. He stares at Yancy in the reflection of the mirror, resting his cheek against the side of his head. “… so, can I still call you doll? Or would you not like that anymore?”
“I don’t mind it.” Yancy shrugs, reaching to grab Illinois hands. “Just not, yknow.. don’t call me ‘pretty’ or nothing.”
“Got it.” Illinois kisses his cheek this time and sighs softly. “Happy for you.”