King woke up early the next morning with a small boy tucked under his arm. He liked the feeling — he had never done anything more than a one night stand, so actually being happy with the person in his bed was a first.

He shook Samuel gently. "Hey, wake up, Sammy,"

Samuel sprang forward, startled at the contact. "I- Oh, it's you, George,"

King was a bit confused, but masked it with a customary grin. His hair was sticking up in a cute way, and Samuel found himself blushing as he stared at it. "Sammy, do you still want that makeover?"

Samuel nodded and rolled out of bed, King following him closely.

••Time skip to the hair parlor••

King stood beside Samuel, looking skeptically at their reflections in a mirror. Samuel shifted nervously in his chair.

After several moments of analysis, King turned to the hairdresser on his right and whispered a list of instructions to her. Samuel shut his eyes and waited.

When he opened his eyes again, his hair was bright blue and cut so one side was short and the other hung over his face. He looked better already, three steps ahead of that nerdy kid from last night. He smirked in the mirror, and King traced his gaze.

"Like it?"

"I do," Samuel found it easier to be calm, as if the hope of a new image gave him boundless confidence. "Thanks, George,"

King blushed a little. "Next, clothes,"

They walked down the street at a leisurely pace, King's arm slung around Samuel's shoulder so everyone knew the boy was his. No one would ever try to touch King, but Samuel was a little worrisome.

He is super hot with that hair, too.

King blushed deeper and focused on the sidewalk ahead of him. "What kind of look do you want?"

Samuel thought for a moment. "What's your look?"

King shrugged. "I wear a lot of red and tight clothes, usually. Gold, too. Like...rouge prince, I guess you could call it,"

Samuel nodded. "What complements red and gold?"

"That depends. Do you prefer black or white?"

"Hmm. Let's try black,"

••Aren't the insides of stores boring? Have a time skip as condolence••

King emerged first, his customary ruby jeans accompanied by a new red shirt and a black jacket around his waist. He looked over his shoulder and Samuel walked out. King smiled.

Samuel's expression was smooth and easy, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans and a chain necklace hanging over his tight black T-shirt. His chest muscles were defined in a way that complemented his leather jacket streaked with red. He looked content for once in his life, he looked as if he belonged somewhere.

King stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Damn," he breathed.

Samuel heard him and cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I kinda want to pin you to the wall over there and kiss you, but that seems a little too forward for our first day together,"

"What's stopping you? Aren't you the master of these streets?" Samuel took a slow step forward, putting heavy emphasis on 'master'.

King made a noise deep in his throat, his fists clenching at his sides.

Samuel took another step so King was mere inches from him. "What's wrong, master?"

King pushed forward and pressed himself against Samuel, kissing him and backing him up to the wall. Samuel wrapped his arms around King's neck and kissed back, and they stayed like that for several seconds until King broke away.

"Don't do that," King said.

"I think you should tell me again, Master,"

King growled. "You're really asking for it here,"

"Sure am, Master,"

"We're going to go back to the apartment later and you're going to get what's coming to you," King intertwined their fingers and pulled him down the street.

"Okay, Georgie,"

AN: 😏😏😏heyyyyy it's your girl Wolfie, publishing from a state park inn. The WiFi sucks, writing is slow, but whatever, I have fans and I'm comin through for y'all.

There is potentially some dramatic author's notes coming your way soon, so be prepared for that shit.
Love,

Wolf
(694 words)