Pairing: Chris and Joey
Words: crinkle; breathe; appetising; fetish


"It's not that I don't love you, Chris, it's just that I don't
really find that particular fetish... appetizing."  Joey holds his
breath, waiting to see what Chris will do in reply.

"Appetizing?  You don't find it *appetizing*?  I'm not asking you
to get a fork and eat it off."

"It's just sort of," Joey shrugs, and *knows* he's about to fuck
up.  "It's gross?"

Chris gives him a disbelieving look.  "Joey.  You've fucked girls. 
And you've fucked me.  How is this so much grosser than either of
those?"

"Because it's not really fucking you or girls?"

"It's fucking me while I look like a girl.  How different is that? 
As far as fetishes go, it's kinda mild, y'know."

"Because what I love best about our sex life is that it's not like
with girls?"

Chris crosses his arms and looks mulish.  "Right.  That's why you
had so much fun fucking women.  Why you bragged about it all the
time.  Practically got them to come in and give you personal
endorsements.  Because you hated it so much."

Joey replies, "But it's different because I love you."

"So what you're saying," Chris says in carefully measured tones,
"is, not only do you like women better, but the only good part
about our sex life is that I have a dick."

Joey looks at Chris.  He considers all the possible answers.  "Um. 
Do you want me to help you shave your legs?"

Chris shakes his head.  "No, thanks.  I don't want to fight with a
guy who's got a razor in his hands."

"Should I just go pick up the dress at the drycleaner's then?"

Chris looks suspiciously at Joey.  "Why is my gross yucky desire to
dress up like a girl suddenly okay with you?"

"'Cause I love you?"

Chris snorts.  "Forget it.  Forget I even mentioned it to you."

Joey sighs.  "You're not some sort of skanky girl, are you? 
Because that's what I really hate about chicks."

"Forget it."  Chris heads for the door.  Joey *loves* the skanky
ones.  The ones who'll show him their boobs?  He's all over them.

Joey wishes that for once Chris would see past the part he plays in
public.  He knows Chris isn't all about annoying as many people as
he can as fast as he can.  Not always, anyway.

Chris heads for his car, keys jangling.  He drives straight to the
cleaners, where he picks up his dress.  It didn't really need to be
cleaned, because it's brand new and never been worn, but he's
pulled it out of its hiding place in his closet and stared at it so
many times that it wasn't fresh and pressed anymore.  Plus there's
something to be said for the fantasy of bringing home your ballgown
in a plastic bag and laying it out with all the other trappings--

And he's just being stupid now, because it's only going back in the
closet.

Or maybe he should donate it to Goodwill.  Because he's never gonna
wear it now that it's a symbol of him revealing something secret
and private to Joey and having Joey reject it as just plain icky.

Joey calls Kelly.  Kelly tells him he's a fuck and he should pull
his head out of his ass.  Even if Chris looks like a girl, Joey's
not gonna end up using him, and Chris won't wake up in the morning
hating him.  Joey didn't know that was what his problem was, but he
feels better having heard it.

On the way to Goodwill, Chris has an idea.  It's not a very good
idea, but then, a lot of his ideas are pretty out there.  It's
essential, he's heard, not to have the right idea, but to have
*some* idea fast.

He brakes and heads in the direction of his own house first to get
ready.

Joey wonders when -- and if -- Chris is coming back.  He's too
nervous to call and ask.

Chris'd thought to do this with Joey.  Slowly and do it right. 
Candles and bath oils, and maybe, like Joey said, Joey shaving him,
one of Chris's newly silky smooth legs held in Joey's hands.

But he doesn't have time for that and instead he just goes for what
he needs.  The tape to bind up his dick and balls is gonna be
painful when it comes off, although he knows the trick of covering
the really sensitive parts with something else first and then
taping them.

His Wonderbra does as advertised, although he's too wide through
the chest to make it really work.  But thank God they made bra
extenders, because no way was the strap long enough.

The fucking corset is a bitch, but the only way to get the right
figure, because Chris isn't dedicated enough at this point to
imitate Justin and do a thousand stomach crunches an hour or
whatever the insane brat does.

He looks like a nightmare in the mirror as he's applying his
make-up.  Tape and bindings and a bra.  He hopes Joey appreciates
this, because he wouldn't shave off his beard for just anyone.  He
looks like a teenager without it.  A young *girlish* teenager. 
Which is kinda the point.

When the makeup's on, he dons the dress.

And, oh, yeah.  That's much better, Chris decides as he looks in
the mirror.  Except the hair.  His hair is impossible.  He hates
his hair.  It looks like guy hair.  Not even butch lesbo hair. 
Just guy hair.

He grabs a silk scarf and ties it off around his head.

Better.  Kinda charmingly adorable if you squinted.

Chris gets his heels on and -- because ladies never drive, not in
this getup anyway -- calls for a car to take him to Joey's.

Joey watches the car service pull up.  He watches girl-Chris get
out.  Girl Chris is pretty, which just makes Joey more nervous. 
Not that Joey wasn't expecting it, because he was.  That's why
there are flowers and candies and a full catered meal.  Somehow,
Joey thought Chris was coming back.  He opens the door and kisses
Chris on the cheek.  "You look beautiful," he says.  It's true, but
he nearly chokes on the words just because of his own fear.

Chris looks up through lowered eyelashes.  Shy and just a little
embarrassed.  "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Thank you."  Chris knows why he chose Joey.  No one treats a woman
better, like she's special and the center of his attention.  He
looks into Joey's eyes, searching to find out whether Joey really
means it, and has to look away.

Joey puts his arm around Chris's waist and leads the way to the
dining room.  The flowers are at Chris's spot at the table.  He
holds Chris's chair.

Chris slips into it, looking at the flowers and the table.  "You
did all this for me?" he asks, still shy and seeking approval.  His
normal self would have lashed out at this point because of these
feelings.

"Yeah.  You're worth it."  Joey takes his own seat.  "I'm sorry I
didn't have time to cook.  I hope this is okay."

"It's wonderful.  I didn't expect... well, anything."

"Yeah, but you deserve everything."

Chris smiles up at Joey, before ducking his head, fingers playing
with the edge of the tablecloth.  "I wanted you to like me.  Like
this."

"I like you every way," Joey says, and this time he's not hesitant
at all.  He really does love Chris completely every way possible.

Chris smiles.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Chris takes his napkin and unfolds it, then daintily starts eating. 
Daintily, both because he doesn't want to spill anything on himself
and because of the whole undergarments issue.

Joey keeps them both well supplied with a complementary wine.  If
he gets any more nervous, he's going to throw up.  Hopefully this
stuff'll keep, because there's no way they're going to eat it all.

Chris keeps darting glances at Joey, but Joey seems disinclined to
take the conversation any further than questions about the food and
whether Chris likes the wine.  He feels like he should say
something, but he also feels like he shouldn't, like it would be
rude, that he should let Joey make the first move.

"You're, um.  Your dress is really pretty.  Compliments your eyes,"
Joey offers.  He fucking sucks at small talk.  Fucking.  Sucks. 
So.  Bad.

Chris gives Joey a disbelieving stare.  "Joey, my dress is *pink*." 
Rose, actually, but he doesn't expect Joey to appreciate that.

"Rose.  It makes your eyes look gold."

Chris looks down and feels himself blush.  He doesn't know when he
was last capable of blushing.  "Thank you."

"I had nothing to do with you being beautiful," Joey offers.

"Yes, but... I didn't expect you to really look."

"Oh.  Well, uh.  I did."

Chris looks up.  "You did?  But you said..."  Chris isn't sure
whether girl-Chris is supposed to remember that Joey had pretty
much expected him to be a skanky girl.

"I asked some stuff," Joey says.  He looks steadily at his plate. 
"I didn't know what to expect.  I'm sorry I wasn't nicer about it."

Chris studies Joey, now that Joey isn't looking at him.  Joey looks
very sorry.  "It's okay," he says.  "I probably should have tried
better to explain what I meant and that it wasn't just a new kinky
sex thing I wanted you to try."

"No, I sorta got that.  I did some thinking while you were getting
ready.  I'm really, really afraid I'll end up treating you the way
I used to treat girls, and then you'll be gone the next day, like
they always were."

Chris frowns.  "I don't get it."

"I didn't treat them the way I treat you.  I love you."

"But the whole reason I wanted you... wanted to tell you," Chris
corrects, "is because you were always so sweet to women.  Treating
them like they were special and important."

"It was all a seduction.  It was all about getting laid, for either
me or them.  I'm just bad at dating, really."

"Oh," Chris says quietly.

Joey looks at Chris.  "And you're better than that."

Chris arches his eyebrows at Joey.  "Guy-me isn't."

"Yeah, you are.  You deserve better."

Chris doesn't want to get into an argument as a girl.  He wants to
be special and precious and protected and wooed.  But Joey is very
very wrong.  

Joey shrugs.  "Did you want dessert?" he asks.

"No, thank you.  I'm full."

"Um.  Watch a movie?" he offers.

Chris shakes his head.  "I'm sorry, Joey.  I think maybe I had the
wrong ideas about what I was getting into."  He turns wet eyes up
to Joey.  "I wanted to be feminine.  To be a girl.  To be the one
who's protected and wooed and taken care of.  And that's not
something you do."

"I'm trying," Joey says.  He kneels next to Chris's chair.  "I'm
trying!  What did I do wrong?  I thought I did it right."

Chris turns in his chair, keeping his feet tucked under him and
places a hand on Joey's face.  His hand looks small.  Usually he
focuses on how tough he is despite his size.  "You didn't.  I just
realized that you're right.  What I want is something you don't
know how to do.  And I've been terribly unfair expecting it of
you."

"So I don't even get to try?"

Chris blinks back tears.  "You want to?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Chris says tremulously.  He's not sure whether he likes how
vulnerable he is like this.  But part of being protected has to be
needing it.

Joey kisses each of Chris's palms.  "Okay."

Chris closes his hands, holding Joey's kisses in.

Joey stands and gently lifts Chris to his -- or her -- feet.  "Come
on.  I want to hold you for a while."  He leads the way to the
living room and sits, pulling Chris into his lap.

Chris lets himself be pulled and arranged.  He sighs and drops his
head to Joey's shoulder.

Joey's got Chris curled up in his lap sideways.  One arm's behind
Chris cradling, supporting and playing with Chris's soft hair.  The
other gently strokes from ankle to thigh over and over again. 
Chris's nylons are incredibly soft.  The skin under them is softer.

Chris sighs again, this time with a kind of content satisfaction. 
"This is nice."

"You're nice," Joey whispers.  And right there he changes what he's
doing.  This isn't about Joey playing a role for Chris's pleasure. 
And it's not about Chris being a girl and Joey having to worry
about acting how he used to with girls -- everything false and
about getting laid because after that night he'd never see them
again.  This is about Joey and how he loves Chris, and Chris and
how he wants to be able to feel, loving Joey.  Everything seems
much clearer, when it's thought of that way.

Chris smiles.  "You have to say that if you want to keep me
around."

"Maybe.  But I don't have to say that you're fucking pretty like
this.  I'd say beautiful, but I always thought you were, so pretty
is more important."  Joey's hand lingers on hip and thigh before
sliding back down.

"Pretty's different.  Beautiful is something you are.  Pretty has
to be worked at."

Joey nods.

"I feel like maybe I kinda sorta lied to you without meaning to."

"Oh, yeah?  Tell me, baby."

"I acted like this is a sex thing for me.  Or a game.  And it
isn't.  I mean, I *thought* it was 'cause I'd never actually gotten
to try it like this.  With you.  With someone who mattered."

Joey has to actually think about that for a while before he thinks
he understands.  "So, you mean you feel like a woman?  Or you want
to feel like a woman?"

Chris shakes his head.  He needs to grow his hair out, he decides. 
"I dunno... it sounds stupid."

"It doesn't sound stupid.  I understand.  There's just something
inside of me that knows, completely knows, that it's right for me
to be a man.  To be male.  It's right that I have a dick and not
tits or a clit.  It's right that I'm not made to tear up at movies
-- oh, fuck you, too," he says when Chris giggles.  "Okay, so I
don't cry at some movies.  There's just something in me that is
*right* being masculine.  And I understand that it could be the
other way, in spite of the equipment on the outside."

"You're sweet when you're being understanding."  Chris kisses
Joey's cheek, then puts his head back down.  "You're probably
right."

"About which part?"

"All of it."  There's more, but Chris is kinda ashamed of it.  He's
trying not to think about it actually.

"Tell me, baby.  Anything.  Everything.  I love you so much."  Joey
kisses Chris's face softly, over and over again.

Chris shivers and winds his hand into Joey's shirtfront.  "It's...
it's nothing.  Just..."

"Not nothing," Joey insists.  "Everything matters."

"People take care of girls," Chris whispers.

"And you've already taken care of so many," Joey murmurs back in
realization.  "Oh, baby.  Shh, I'll take care of you."

Chris hides his face.  "I feel bad for even wanting to be a girl. 
To want someone else to protect me," he says, just as quiet.  "It's
not fair, me asking you."

"Why not?  I wanted to protect you as a man.  This just makes it
much easier for both of us.  Because you don't have to bitch about
it, and you don't have to pretend to hate it.  Plus, I get to be
all macho.  Booyah."

Chris giggles.  "'Booyah'?"

"Hey, it's good enough for Demi Moore, it's good enough for me."

Chris scowls.  "Demi Moore is an expensive slut."

Joey chuckles into Chris's hair.  "And you're a jealous little
thing.  But I love *you* and *you're* hotter."

"Sweet talker."

"I'm just trying to get into your panties."

"How do you know I'm wearing panties?"

"Good girls do.  And you're a good girl."

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "This is news to me."

Joey sighs.  "I can feel them."  His hand is at the top of Chris's
thigh and he traces the panty line with one finger.

"Okay, fine.  So I am."  Chris looks up at Joey under his lashes. 
"That's... that's not going to be a problem, is it?  I mean, you
like me as a guy.  And you've never really been much on dating good
girls."

"I've never been much on *dating* girls at all."  Joey smiles down
at Chris.  "But I'm gonna take care of you, 'cause you're the best
thing I ever had."

Chris snorts, then seems to remember that isn't a very ladylike
thing to do.  He pokes Joey in the chest.  "And you better remember
that, buddy boy."

"Don't worry.  I will.  Hey, Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know they make this lipstick that lasts forever and
doesn't rub off?"

"They do not."

"I take it you're not wearing it then.  Wonder if that's a good
color for me."  Joey kisses Chris without waiting for an answer. 
It's a very, very long kiss.  Technically several, but they're all
part of the same thought.

Chris is easily distracted by Joey's kissing.  Joey's kissing could
distract a platoon of Marines.  Then his brain kicks back in.  He
pulls away and demands, "What do you mean, would that be a good
color for you?"

Joey blinks down at Chris and he can feel that the lip gloss or
whatever that Chris was wearing is smeared all over his lips. 
"Um?"

"Why're you going to be wearing lipstick?"

"I'm wearing yours."

"Oh.  That's okay then."  Chris presses his thumb against the
corner of Joey's lips.  "I'm only wearing gloss, though.  Leaving
red marks all over stuff is slutty."

Joey smiles a little.  "I don't know.  I wouldn't mind wearing your
lipstick.  Especially in some places."

"Good girls don't give head on the first date."

"Two things.  This is not a first date.  And I'm not going to fuck
you.  Not... not today, if that's all right?   I think you deserve
better."

"Hah!  You do so think of it as a first date.  Besides.  I don't
want 'better', whatever that is.  I want you."

"I want to make out with you and love you without actual
penetration for hours.  And *then* I want to make you come and mew
like a kitten.  Because that's sexy."  Joey thinks it over and
laughs self-consciously.

"Wow."  Chris's eyes are wide.  "That *is* sexy."

"You're sexy!"

"Am I?  I didn't think you liked me like that.  As a girl."

Joey sighs softly.  "It's not about what you wear or what you look
like, or even what mannerisms you have.  It's about who you are,
and I'm wildly attracted to that.  It's about my own problems being
a good person to the fairer sex.  And, y'know, I think I figured it
out.  It doesn't matter if you're a girl or a boy because you're
Chris, and that's how you should be treated."

"You can practice on me," Chris offers.  "The good person part."

"You're the only one I'll be practicing on," Joey promises.

"And your mom.  And Briahna.  And Kelly.  And my mom.  And my
sisters..."

"Not the fun parts," Joey says, and he leers.

"You better not be practicing those on anyone else."

Joey kisses Chris again and fits his hand tight over the front of
the satiny panties as he does so, gently pressing in rhythm with
their kiss.

Chris's breath is short.  "Joey..."

Joey stops.  "Sorry, sorry."

"I'm supposed to be the tease, not you."  Chris nibbles on Joey's
lip.

Joey's hand rocks convulsively.  "Just making sure you know I'm
serious."

"I know.  I know you are, Joey."  Chris sucks on Joey's lip.

Joey falls on Chris with a groan.  It's a whirl of confused moments
and making out like he's about to die.  Joey loves it.  Chris's
face is so soft under his fingertips.

Chris is very nearly overwhelmed.  He doesn't know if it's him
being a girl or if Joey's acting differently, but this is exactly
what he wants, passion and desire and need and love so strong he
can barely breathe.  "Joey... stop.  We have to stop."

Joey freezes.  His hands are on Chris's knee and his face, his body
halfway to pinning Chris.  "Sorry," he pants out.

"Me too," Chris says fervently, "me too.  But we have to stop or
you really will be seeing my panties."

Joey breathes deeply, forehead pressed to Chris's.  "Okay.  Okay,
baby."

Chris stares up at Joey, wide-eyed.  He's never said no before
this.  He's a guy -- he's never really had the option.  There
something really special about Joey wanting him so badly but
stopping anyway.  He reaches up and tips Joey's head down, kissing
his forehead.  "I love you."

"I love you, too."  Joey smooths Chris's skirt back down and shifts
them to a less provocative position.  "You wanna cuddle while
watching a movie, or just talk?"

"I should go home," Chris says.  "But, um, yeah.  Watching a movie
sounds good."

"If you wanna go, you can.  Or if you should.  We can always talk
on the phone later."

"I don't know what the right thing to do is.  I know you and I
don't."

"And if there's any part of you that isn't sure, you should go
home.  I'm not going anywhere.  We'll just keep building on this."

Chris nods reluctantly.  He doesn't want to leave, but what he
wants and needs is not a quick tumble.

"I can keep my hands to myself, if you want to watch that movie,
baby."

Chris looks at Joey's hands.  Nice big strong hands.  "I don't care
that much about the movie.  The cuddling was what sounded good."

"Come here."  Joey lifts his arm for Chris to settle under.  Joey
flips the TV on to HBO and turns the volume way down, just for
background noise.  Chris is tucked comfortably under his arm.  Joey
notes that the heels have vanished somewhere as he tucks a blanket
around their legs.  "There.  Comfy?"

"Yeah."  Chris snuggles in, feeling warm and protected.

"Good."  Joey kisses the top of Chris's head.

Chris closes his eyes.

Joey's watching the TV, but he's not seeing it.  He's really just
concentrating on the feel of Chris against him.

Chris can hear the movie, but it's rolling over him unheard. 
Joey's breathing is rocking him just enough to make him really
sleepy.  He doesn't want to go home alone, because Joey's house
pretty much is home for him, but he doesn't know that he can stay
either.

Joey yawns as the credits roll.  It's really late, and, looking
down, Chris is nearly asleep against his side.  "Sweetheart?  Do
you want to stay?"

Chris opens his eyes reluctantly.  "I shouldn't.  I should go back
to being me or I should go home and change -- and I really want to
get out of this outfit."

"I have some stuff.  I mean.  Some of Kelly's stuff, if you wanted. 
Nightgowns and, um.  Stuff."

Chris's expression goes wondering.  "You're amazing."

"Because I have Kel's clothes?" Joey asks, his confusion showing
through.

"No.  Because you want me.  You like me.  And you're... you're
helping me.  You want to."

"Well, sure.  You know I love you.  This is still *you*, Chris. 
Different than I ever expected, yeah, but it's still you.  I'm not
promising I'll never freak out about it, but to be honest, it just
doesn't bother me that much.  Not when it's like *this*.  Not now
that I figured out that nothing with you will ever be you acting
like the girls I banged before, and I'll never feel the same or
treat you the same as I did them.  Or even feel inclined to."

Chris shrugs and looks away.  "I guess I'm stupid.  This is what I
wanted.  How I thought you treated them."

"You're not stupid.  It's, well.  I'm not really a nice man, or at
least I wasn't.  So I treated them good in public and made them
think I cared, and treated them naughty in private and then never
thought about them again."  Joey turns Chris's face back.  "I'm
ashamed of what I did and I think my biggest problem with the
thought of *this* was that I never have been and I never will be
ashamed of you.  I couldn't stand to think that I'd treat you that
way."

"Sweet in public and naughty in private is good.  But, yeah.  Not
ashamed.  That'd hurt."

"I know."  Joey looks at Chris, completely looks.  "I don't want
you to have to be ashamed of me."

"I'm not.  I might have been if I'd known."

"But I won't do that to you.  So... so, we're okay."

Chris nods.  "Can you get me a nightgown now?  I really do want to
change."

"Okay.  A long one or a shorter one?"  Joey stands and helps Chris
up.  They start walking hand in hand up the stairs to the bedrooms.

"Virginal.  Reduce the temptation."

Joey laughs.  "So, plain cotton, huh?"

Chris thinks of silk brushing against his newly shaved legs.  "Uh,
yeah.  That'd be a good idea."

Joey leads them into the guest room and sends Chris into the master
bath next door.  He hunts through the closet until he finds the
delicate pink cotton nightgown he's looking for.  Short sleeved and
roomy, it's still modestly cut and really long, even on Kelly.  He
finds some little sleep shorts, too, to aid in the reduction of
temptation.  He knocks on the bathroom door.  "Chris?  You need any
help?"

"You got a first aid kit?"

"Let me in right now," Joey says firmly.

"It's no big deal, Joey.  Don't worry."

"Let me in before I break down the door."  This isn't even about
sex at all.  This is about protection and needing to see Chris
right now.

Chris gets out of the tub and hastily wraps a towel around himself
before opening the door.  "*What?*" he demands, unhappy about Joey
seeing him like this, naked and ugly both as a male and a female. 

Joey cups Chris's face and touches the smeared eyeshadow that makes
Chris look even more delicate.  "Are you hurt?  Where are you
hurt?"  The turn of Chris's wrist is so fucking nice that Joey has
to lift it up and kiss it.

Chris silently pulls back the towel to expose the places that the
corset rubbed raw.  They'd felt painful while he was still dressed,
but he hadn't realized the skin was actually broken in places until
he'd tried to wash and they'd stung.

Joey kneels down and kisses chastely over each raw spot.  He does
it silently, and when he's done he helps Chris back into the tub. 
While Chris bathes, Joey gets out Neosporin and bandaids and soft,
fluffy towels and one of those hair turban things.  He doesn't
watch Chris, but he sees him and is appreciative.

Chris darts glances at Joey as he bathes.  He doesn't know what to
think.  Joey's treating him so gently and doesn't seem to care that
Chris is a hideous freak.

"Want me to do your back?" Joey asks at last.  He's out of things
to do and Chris seems to be nearly done.

Chris brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around
himself.  "Okay.  But be careful.  I can't see it, but it hurts
too."

Joey nods and washes carefully.  There are a few more raw scrapes
here, too.  "We so need to get you a better version of that thing."

"It was the only one that'd give me the kind of waistline I
wanted."

"Maybe a camisole under it," Joey says absently.  He rinses Chris's
back.  "I'll ask Kelly.  All done."'

"Thanks.  Um.  Can you...?"

"Sure."  Joey stands up and turns to face the corner of the room. 
"I think if you just put on the robe backwards I can take care of
the scrapes on your back, baby.  I'd do the rest, but if you'd
rather do them yourself, that's cool, too."

"Sorry," Chris says, getting out and patting himself dry.  He feels
silly asking Joey to turn around, but he doesn't want Joey to look
either.  He pulls the bathrobe on.  "Okay, you can turn around
now."

Joey turns back.  "Nothing to be sorry about."  He ties the robe
above Chris's butt and kneels down again to take care of his back. 
Pat dry, smear Neosporin, bandage.  Repeat.  It doesn't take nearly
as long as Joey would like.  "I think I've got everything back
here."  He stands up and puts the supplies back on the counter. 
"You good with the rest?"

"Promise you won't laugh and you can help me with those."

"Baby, I think you're fucking hot.  I don't even feel like
laughing."

Chris flushes.  The guy-him would be so totally doing Joey right
now.  Or maybe passed out after having done it downstairs a lot
earlier.  But this is different.  It makes something in Chris
that's been cold and aching for a long time dissolve.  He nods and,
turning away slightly, rearranges the robe so Joey can reach his
front.

Joey hands Chris a towel so he can cover whatever bits he feels
like.  The front doesn't take too much longer than the back and
Joey doesn't even see any nipple.  It's nearly chaste, and yet the
thrill of it makes Joey's blood hum.  He stands up and kisses Chris
softly.  "All done.  Here."  He hands the nightgown to Chris. 
"I'll go turn down the bed."

"Thank you," Chris says quietly, feeling cherished in a way that
guy-Chris never has.

Joey just smiles and closes the door behind him.

Chris drops the towel and pulls the nightgown over his head.  He
feels better covered up, although he avoids his eyes in the mirror. 
Without makeup, he just looks like Chris in a dress, and he doesn't
know how Joey managed not to burst out laughing.  The soft shorts
he pulls on, too, after coping with the aftereffects of the tape. 
That's painful, too, but private.

Joey looks up when Chris sort of floats into the room.  Chris's
eyes are dark and scared.  His hair is all soft against his skull
and framing a face made younger and more delicate by the removal of
the beard and by Chris's attitude.  Joey smiles.  "Get into bed,
baby.  You look prettier in that than Kelly ever did."  He pats the
bed he's standing next to.  It's the bed in his bedroom, the one
they've shared, but Joey expects to spend the night in the guest
room.  Unless Chris needs him, of course.

Chris bites his lip.  "Is that going to be all right?  For you?"

"You being the prettiest I ever saw?  Totally good for me.  If you
mean the bed -- well, I thought I'd sleep in the guest room, which
is fine with me.  Unless you wanted me, or needed me here with
you."

Chris steps forward slowly, giving Joey time to reject or welcome
him, fitting himself against Joey's body.  "I want you.  But it
would probably be best if we didn't sleep together.  Things could
happen.  But I'm the guest.  I should sleep in the guest room."

Joey cradles the back of Chris's head and tips that innocent
looking face up for a kiss.  "You're not a guest, not really.  You
belong here, and I want to give you something comfortable and
familiar.  Also, I want to think of you in my bed."  He grins
lasciviously.

Chris smiles.  "Okay, you masher.  You win.  I'll sleep in your
bed.  But you better have changed the sheets recently."

"This afternoon."

"Okay then."  Chris pulls away from Joey reluctantly and gets in
between the sheets.

Joey tucks Chris in and kisses his forehead.  "I'm just across the
hall if you need me."

"Kiss me again?  Really kiss me this time?"

Joey does, employing every trick and skill he possesses.

Chris falls back to the pillows with a sigh.  "Now I definitely
need you, but you better go away or I won't get any sleep."

Joey nods his agreement and goes to shower before bed.  And jerk
off because he's so fucking hard he might faint from the drop in
blood pressure to his brain.

Chris is turned on, but he thinks the vague aching is supposed to
be normal for a woman.  He mentally curls up around the sound of
Joey's voice as he threatened to break the bathroom door down and
the sight of Joey's face after Chris let him in.  Joey cares about
him and loves him so much.  Chris knew Joey thought he was sexy and
funny, but this... this he doesn't want to give up anytime soon.

~~~~

Chris expects to sleep and he does, for several hours.  But he
wakes up in the early hours of the morning, sometime before true
dawn and worries about who he's going to be.

Should he go back to being guy-Chris, or should he keep being
girl-Chris?

He feels kinda funny being a girl, because it's so unlike being
himself and because he's never actually done it for this long.  And
never for real where he felt it deep down.  Or other people could
see him.

He gets out of bed and pads into the guest room.  Joey's left the
door open, and Chris comes inside, just a little ways, to look at
Joey sleeping.

Joey blinks awake, not sure why until he sees Chris.  "What's
wrong, baby?" he asks, reaching out.

Chris pulls back, arms around himself.  "Go back to sleep.  It's
nothing."

"Wanna snuggle?" Joey asks, still half-asleep.  He smiles at Chris. 
"You look sexy, all sleepy."

Chris shakes his head.  "I was just thinking something.  I'm going
back to bed."

Joey nods.  "Okay.  I love you, Chris.  Just because you're you." 
His eyes drift closed again.

Chris nods.  He's already figured that much out.  Joey will love
him either way.  Differently, because Chris acts different, but
he'll still be Joey and still be there.

Doesn't help him make up his mind though.

~~~~

Chris gets up early and goes through Joey's closets.  Kelly -- he's
going to presume it was Kelly, although he doesn't have any idea --
left more than just a couple of nightgowns here.  He picks out a
suitably frilly blouse and a skirt.  He feels stupid when he looks
at himself in the mirror, but he doesn't really have much of a girl
wardrobe, and all of it is at his house.

Joey hears Chris moving around.  He does his own morning routine
before going to find Chris.  He's wearing that floaty frilly thing
Kelly looked like crap in.  On Chris it looks like... like crystal
on silk.  Something strong and beautiful in a complimentary
wrapping.  He hugs Chris from the back and kisses the side of his
neck.  "Morning, beautiful."

Chris shivers.  "Morning, Joey."

Joey smiles happily at Chris in the mirror.  "I'm glad you stayed
here."

Chris puts his hand on Joey's arm.  "Didn't want to leave.  I was
sc... I... it'd change if I left."

Joey picks Chris up in a quick sweep of motion.  He moves them onto
the bed and settles Chris on his lap again.  "Okay.  Tell me, baby. 
I want to help."

Chris cuddles close, relaxing.  He's suspicious of himself, not of
Joey.  "I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"No.  That's the problem.  I'm scared.  I'm not supposed to be
scared.  I'm supposed to be capable.  Able to do stuff."

"I'm scared," Joey says.  "But that's not the point.  The point is
that it's okay for you to be scared.  I'll take care of you, Chris,
baby.  I promise I will."

"Yeah."  Chris smiles.  "That part I'm sure of.  That makes me feel
better."

"Sweet," Joey says, smiling at Chris.

"Hey, you think I don't trust you?  The one I was confident in was
you.  Until, y'know.  But that was a fluke obviously."

"No, I mean *you're* sweet."

"Oh."  Chris takes that in.  "It's okay to be sweet now."

"It is, yeah."

That's what I'm having trouble with," Chris says.  "I'm scared of
turning into a girl for real.  Like, thinking and acting like a
girl and stuff."

"And you don't want to?" Joey asks.

Chris shakes his head.  "Yes?"

"I know that you're gonna have to fight with yourself to figure
this out, Chris," Joey says seriously.  "But what I want for you,
in case it helps, is for you to be anything and everything you want
to be.  If that means that sometimes you'll be like last night and
sometimes not, that's okay.  It also means, baby, that if what you
want and need is to be cared for, to be 'girly', well that's good
too.  And if it means that you're gonna wear heels we need to
seriously get a schedule of cortizone injections down for both of
us.  You, because it's hard on the knees.  Me, because every
fucking time I see you in them, I'm gonna wanna fall down and
worship."

Chris giggles.  "You wouldn't.  You're teasing me."

"I'm so not.  If you hadn't been wearing a full length dress
yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to resist."

"You make me seriously happy about wanting to be a girl."

"I'm glad."

"I'm not as happy as you though.  I just..." Chris motions,
frustrated at his lack of ability to express himself.  "I want it. 
I like being a girl.  I love the way you're taking care of me. 
Seriously.  Without you, this wouldn't work at all.  I'm terrified
of me though.  Of not being Chris anymore."

"Oh.  Baby, you're still you.  Even in a dress, cuddled up to my
side, and quiet and still.  Even nearly crying when this almost
didn't work.  You're still you.  You are not the outside.  You are
so deep inside that you will never not be Chris, no matter how much
you change."

"You think?" Chris asks tentatively.  "I feel like I'm losing me. 
That I'm becoming somebody else and I should beat my chest and
start scratching myself and stuff."

"Are you the same person you were when we met?" Joey asks.

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because that was a really long time ago."

"So?  Changes all have to be really gradual?  How about the day
before and the day after you found out Lou was stealing our money. 
Were you the same?"

Chris mutters something against Joey's shoulder.

"What was that?"

"You're too smart."

"Now there's one I haven't heard before," Joey says with a laugh.

"You are," Chris pouts.

"Sweetheart, I believe you."

Chris sighs.  "Call me that again.  Please?"

"Sweetheart?  You are, y'know."

"Am not."  But Chris smiles again and rubs his head against Joey.

"Then I'm blind, because you sure look it to me."

Chris smiles.  "I look tasty?"

"Why, you want me to eat you?" Joey asks.  His voice is a mixture
of teasing and seduction.

Chris licks his lips.  "Yeah."

Joey's smile goes completely seductive.  "Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah.  Does that make me a slut?"

"Hell, no."

Chris tips his head back and grins.  "Oh good."

Joey laughs and kisses Chris.

"See," Chris says breathlessly when Joey lets him go, "that just
makes me want you more."

"If you're sure..."  Joey starts at Chris's neck and intends to
work his way right on down.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I want the full Fatone
experience."

Joey sucks Chris's nipple through the blouse before asking,
"What're you saying, sweetheart?  I'll give you what you want."

Chris shivers at the 'sweetheart'.  He could easily get addicted to
being called that.  "I want you the most when you're doing what you
call trying to get into my pants.  Not that I'm wearing any."  He
giggles nervously.  "I want you to try."

Joey smiles slowly.  "Okay, beautiful."  He dips his head again. 
Instead of just the physical he'd normally use with Chris, he's got
words.  Sweet nothings.  And he takes his time.  Chris was always
so eager before, and Joey, too.  But with a woman, Joey takes his
time.  He enjoys every second and makes sure they do, too.

Compared to the way Joey acts with him now, Chris has never had an
instant of Joey's love in the past.  "Joey, Joey.  Joey, please. 
Love you."

Joey's low enough to take off Chris's skirt now, but he doesn't. 
He just folds it out of the way and puts his mouth over Chris's
cock.  Even this is different.  Even something so uniquely
masculine.  Joey's gentler and slower, like he would be with a
woman.  And, like a woman, this won't end with the first orgasm.

Chris whimpers and begs.  "Please.  Want you so bad."

Joey waits until Chris comes in his mouth, then eases up and over. 
He's already got lube in all the right places.  He holds Chris
while he shudders.  When stunned, dark eyes open again, Joey
smiles.  "Can I, baby?  I want to make love to you."

Chris nods.  He feels a lot more strongly about it than a mere nod,
but it's all he can manage.  He's not used to the care and
attention Joey's lavishing on him.

Joey lifts Chris's legs, positioning him on a pillow, and presses
in.  It taxes his control to go slowly, to listen for every tiny
cue Chris gives.  Joey doesn't mind a bit.

Chris whimpers.  Joey feels so big, pushing inside him, and he
loves the sense of possession and surrender.

Joey murmurs comforting words, trying to help Chris relax.  This is
different than usual, too.  Not that they don't actually fuck, just
that they tend to do other things a lot more often than actual
penetration.  When Chris whimpers, Joey stops, panting.  "Baby? 
Shh, are you okay?  Want me to stop?"

"No!" Chris cries.  "No, please don't stop.  Want you.  Want you to
keep going.  Please."

"Okay, okay."  Joey keeps going.  Slow and steady until he's all
the way in.  And then he waits for the bad tension to leave Chris's
face.  Only when it's gone, when Chris sighs out a long breath,
does Joey start to move.

Chris feels absolutely amazing.  Joey keeps holding back and Chris
just wants it all the more.  He thinks about telling Joey to stop
being so gentle, that he won't break, but maybe he wants to be
broken this way.

Joey loses control about the time Chris purrs and starts seriously
*trying* to make him lose control.  After that it's kinda wild, but
Joey's still trying to be careful.  No bruises for pretty,
beautiful, wonderful Chris.  And when he manages to bring Chris off
again before coming, well, that's almost better than coming
himself.

Chris curls up around Joey when it's over, nuzzling his chest. 
"Marvelous, wonderful, amazing Joey."

Joey's still a little dazed, but he tries to hold Chris like he
should and not to, like, drool all over him or anything.

"I like this.  I mean.  I love it.  Am I stupid for loving this?"

"Hell... no..." Joey gasps.

"Good."  Chris watches Joey's face.  It gets gradually less dazed
as Joey's expression turns to a smile.  A big one that reaches his
eyes and turns him from merely handsome to irresistible.  "God,
you're gorgeous when you're happy."

Joey blushes.  Then he curses.  "You did that on purpose," he
teases.

"Nope.  Was just lying here thinking how much I love you and how
you just get more wonderful the more I get to know you.  Plus the
smile.  I love your smile."

Joey ducks his head down against Chris's shoulder.  He can't stop
grinning, but he can hide it against Chris's sweaty skin.

Chris feels Joey's smile against his skin, and grins himself. 
Feeling the smile isn't as good as seeing it, but he knows it's
there, and that's what really matters.  That Joey's there and happy
and isn't going anywhere.  "You embarrassed that I think you're
gorgeous?" Chris asks.

"Yes," Joey says.  His voice is all muffled because of Chris's
shoulder.  Joey doesn't mind.  He licks Chris, instead of talking.

"Or are you trying to start something?" Chris asks, a little
breathlessly.

"No."  Joey tips his head up to see Chris.  "I just like to be
close to you."

"You mean like I like seeing you happy?"  Chris drinks in Joey's
face.

Joey nods.  "Probably kinda like that, yeah."

"Okay then.  Carry on."

Joey cocks his head.  "Did it feel the same?"

"What?"

"Sex.  Did it seem the same?"  Joey's back to caressing Chris's
side, up and down, up and down.  He loves the way people feel from
armpit to hip.

"No," Chris says after a moment's consideration.  "It didn't.  You
were definitely doing things different.  I liked it," he rushes to
assure Joey.  "I liked it a *lot*.  But it was different."

Joey nuzzles Chris's neck.  "I liked the way you were.  You were
different, too."

"I was?  Different how?"

"You let me do more.  Touch you places you would've made me stop
before.  You didn't make me go fast, and I didn't feel like I had
to.  I could take my time and totally worship you, like you
deserve."

Chris contemplates that.  "Yeah, I guess.  Although I didn't know
that I wasn't letting you touch me in places.  I know I liked going
slow and that I was definitely fighting it in my head, 'cause I had
all these male instincts telling me to do it fast and hard.  But I
liked it this way better."

Joey's hand stops, firmly on the curve of Chris's belly.  "Here."

Chris squirms a little.  "Oh.  Yeah.  It, uh, just didn't seem as
important as it used to.  What with all the other stuff to be
ashamed of."

"Like what?" Joey asks, totally confused.

"I'm ugly, okay?  My hair looks stupid.  *I* look stupid with
shaved legs and all."

Joey shakes his head.  He's not upset, he's too shocked to be
upset.  "You're not, you know.  You've always been sort of
enchanting.  Especially your eyes,"  Joey gently rubs his fingers
under them.  "And the way your chin is shaped.  I like your hair. 
It's soft and nice and, okay, laugh.  But it's dark enough that I
want to touch it to see if it's wet or not.  I can never tell. 
Grow it out, if you want to, baby.  I liked the braids."  Joey
smiles a little and rubs his leg against Chris's.  "I'm not sure
why you think your legs look stupid.  I like it.  I mean, yeah, I
liked the friction of the hair against me, before.  But I like the
smooth, too.  It's, like, shocking.  So much smooth against my
hairy self."

"I hate you," Chris says fervently, if insincerely.  "Just when I
get all worked up about my pitiful attempts to look like a woman,
you tell me they turn you on."

Joey laughs.  "Woe is you, huh?"

"Bastard."

"Well, Mom always said I looked like the milkman..."

"Joey..."

"Hmm?"

"Be sweet again.  This all makes more sense when you're sweet."

Joey rolls onto his back and pulls Chris against his side.  Happy,
sweet cuddling.

"Thanks," Chris whispers.

"Love you," Joey answers, all the reply needed.

~~~~

Inevitably, Chris has to leave.  If only to go clothes shopping. 
Kelly left stuff, but not that much stuff.

The problem is, he isn't sure anymore.  About who and what he is. 
Which is why he's standing in front of the mirror, in jeans and a
t-shirt, hand frozen in the act of applying eyeliner.  Dressed like
a guy, to buy girl-clothes, and putting on the makeup of a woman.

Joey watches Chris.  "I like it.  Like for the TV Guide cover.  We
all looked like crap, but you looked hot.  Even the stupid-ass
braid thing."

Chris's hand shakes and he sets the eyeliner down.  He turns around
to face Joey.  "Dunno what I'm doing here.  I wasn't going for the
goth punk look, y'know.  It was pure reflex."

"So?  I don't understand."

"I don't know who I'm supposed to be.  Or who I want to be."  Chris
clenches his hands into fists, face clouding.  "I'm not a girl, and
I'm not really much of a guy anymore either."

Joey reaches out, catching Chris's wrist and drawing him closer. 
"You're in a transition, Chris.  It's got to be really hard for
you, baby."

Chris doesn't bend, although his instincts are urging him to sway
into Joey and accept his comfort.  "It's like -- and you have no
idea how deeply disturbing it is for me just to hear myself talking
about my feelings -- like I'm finding that guy-Chris, old-Chris was
just a shell.  A mask I used to protect myself.  And at the same
time, it's like I'm killing him off and losing any trace of
manliness I have.  Or had.  I don't know whether this is the
smartest thing I've ever tried to do or if I should be seeing a
shrink."  Which is a strong statement, because Chris doesn't
believe in doctors, particularly not headshrinkers.

"If we found a good one, it might be a good idea," Joey allows. 
"But I don't think you're killing off who you were.  You're just
changing your defenses, a little.  Letting me fill in some of the
things you didn't really want to have to be doing in the first
place."

Chris unstiffens a little.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah.  And I don't think who you were before was a shell, either. 
Like I said, it was you, completely you, but maybe doing some
things you didn't really want to, to make yourself safe."

"But I like this so much better," Chris says, shaking his head. 
"You have any idea how much fun I would have made of the guys if
any of them woulda started doing this?"

"You think they won't tease you?  Would you have teased them
because you thought they were stupid and wrong, or just so they
could laugh?"

Chris sighs.  "They'll tease me."

"I'll kick their butts for you."

"Time was, I didn't try to hide behind you."

"How is it hiding to let me do what I want to do anyway?"

"It's hiding when I'd normally be out there kicking their asses
myself."

"Is that what you fucking want to do, Chris?  Because you can still
kick their ass in four inch stilettoes, baby.  If that's what you
want."

Chris snorts and leans against Joey.  "No, fuckwit.  What I want to
do is just shut my eyes and have you hold my head and pet my hair
and tell me it's okay.  Then I want to kill myself for *wanting* to
be a complete wimp."

"You're not a wimp."  Joey pulls until Chris kneels over his lap. 
He pulls Chris close against his chest and pets his hair.

"Then why do I feel so much fucking better than I did five seconds
ago?"

"Because you love me?" Joey says quietly, hopefully.

"I do, yeah.  But I don't think that's it.  'Cause I've loved you
forever now, and it's only since I've been a girl that I've been...
y'know, content when you hold me.  Like I believe being with you
makes everything all right."

Joey fiddles with the hem of Chris's shirt.  "You're letting me
love you?"

"Huh?"

"You're letting me love you.  I mean, you always accepted it
before, I think.  But you never really let me... love on you,
y'know?"

"No," Chris says.  "But I never really thought about it either.  I
just figured that we loved each other and that was it.  Other than
great sex.  But yeah.  It's different now.  Like it's okay if you
take care of me.  I don't have to fight it and prove I don't need
it."

"You don't, but I like to pretend you do."

Chris gives him a stricken look.  "But, Joey.  I *do* need it."

Joey tears up.  "Who's the girl now," he asks, laughing at himself.

Chris misunderstands.  "Me."  He pulls himself in close and starts
to stand up.

Joey pulls Chris back down, hands firmly on his hips.  "I really
love you, Chris.  I love you a *lot*."

"Then stop laughing."

Joey smiles.  "Never.  You make me too happy."

Chris sniffs.  "A likely story."  But he lets Joey hold him again. 
"So, um, wanna go shopping with me?"

"Hell, yes."

Chris gives him a look.  "It's going to be long, drawn out and
painful.  And probably embarrassing, too."

"You wanna start at Fredrick's or Victoria's?"

"Joey!" Chris swats him.  "I'm not just buying lingerie for your
sick perverted fantasies."

"No," Joey says firmly, "You're buying it because you will never,
ever wear that corset as is again.  Ever."

"Oh.  Point taken."

"Good.  And also to further my sick, perverted fantasies."

Chris grins.  "I always say, if your fantasies aren't sick and
perverted, what's the point of having them?"

"Self-gratification," Joey answers immediately.

"Can't you have sick and perverted self-gratification fantasies?"

"Yes, but you can also have vanilla ones."

Chris shrugs, as if to say, 'Why bother?', then stands up.  "Okay. 
Eyeliner it is.  And you get to carry the bags.  And pay."

"Okay.  But you have to eat lunch where I want to eat."

"No strip clubs."

"Chris."

"What?"  Chris looks at Joey in the mirror.  "Don't tell me you've
never had lunch at a strip club?"

"I had lunch with *you* in a strip club."

"Right.  So we're agreed we won't do that?"

"We are."

"Then let's go."

Joey drives.

The mall is one of those intensely dangerous places which isn't
made any safer by large black men drawing attention to them.  It's
been a long while since Chris has been in any danger of being taken
down by a mob, but, with or without the big black men, autograph
signing can severely cut into the whole shopping experience.

Still, they're used to it.

Joey's more than thrilled they're the least popular 2/5ths of the
group when they approach Frederick's mostly unrecognised.

"What size am I again?"

"How should I know?" Joey asks.  "Here."  He pulls Chris into a
dressing room and takes down the tape measure on the wall.  There
are helpful sizing instructions posted as well.

"I thought you instinctively knew these things," Chris teases him. 
"And I'm too fat.  Way way too fat," he says, comparing his
measurements against the chart.

"That's cause you don't have tits," Joey says.  "Just decide how
big you want to be so we know what size falsies to buy, if you want
them."  Joey stands behind Chris and cups his pec, eyes on the
chart.

"I don't want them.  The bra was no fun and I don't look very girly
even all dolled up," Chris says, stabbing a finger at the chart. 
"No, what I mean is this.  No woman is supposed to have a waist my
size with hips and chest my size.  I don't fit any where on here. 
I'm colossal."

"You are not," Joey insists.  He turns Chris away from the Seven
Supermodels Chart to the normal people chart.  "Yeah, you're not
gonna fit nicely in because you're genetically male.  Size your
ribs, them we don't want to change."

Chris sighs and does.

Joey takes the measurements and steps out.  A helpful salesman
finds him an armload of things to try.  He doesn't let the guy in,
of course, because Chris is his.  "Here, try these."

"Crotchless panties?  Joey, you dog."

Joey laughs and shows the matching corset.  "No boobies, either."

"I dunno, Joey.  I wasn't planning on trying one of those again
anytime soon."

"You don't have to.  I was just pointing out that the set has a
theme." 

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "Matching underwear turns you on?"

Joey sorts through the pile and pulls out a babydoll of heavy,
floating fabric.  "Try this?"

Ooh.  I like that."  Chris takes it and pulls it on.

Joey puts his hand on Chris's hip.  The cloth seems to wrap around
his fingers.  "Me too."

"No sex in the dressing room," Chris says breathlessly.

"So, we're buying this."

"Yes.  Definitely yes."

Joey kisses Chris hard and fast.  He steps away completely, after. 
"What else?"

"Uh..." Chris tries to recover his brain.  "Stockings?  Not sure if
I want them with or without garters.  Probably with, so I don't
have to worry about pulling them up over my gut."

"They never stay anyway," Joey says offhand.  He hands Chris a
garter belt in screaming red stretch velvet.

Chris hands it back.  "Ew.  No.  What kind of cheap slut do you
think I am?"

Joey sighs a martyred sigh and offers a plain black one instead.

"White," Chris says firmly.  "Or pink.  Maybe some other colors,
but only if they're tasteful."

"I'll get white and pink.  Here's nude."

"Not bad.  It'll do."  Chris tries it on.  He has really beefy
thighs for a girl.  "Uh, maybe a larger size.  If they have one?"

"Honey, that's a large.  They have larger."

"Thank God.  I figured they only stocked stuff for thin, gorgeous
women."

"They wouldn't make much money that way, since there *are* no thin
*and* gorgeous women.  Thin, gorgeous sticks.  Gorgeous women. 
Thin women.  Yes," Joey mutters as he sends the salesboy for pink
and white things.

Chris doesn't really believe him, not in the face of so many tiny
perfect garments made for other people, but Joey's a conno...
connos... fan of beautiful women, so he'd know.

"Pink, sweetheart," Joey says, offering pink boycut shorts, a pink
cami, and a pink garterbelt to Chris.  "The pink hose scare me," he
admits, offering white and tan.

Chris rejects the tan hose.  "What's the point of wearing them if
you can't see them?" but takes the white ones.  "Not everything has
to be pink.  Just the stuff that isn't white."

"You're a *good* girl," Joey notes.

"You said I was," Chris accuses without looking at Joey, caught up
in sorting through all the lacy, flowy, beautiful things.  Clothing
that has no practical purpose, won't wear well and is ridiculously
expensive.  Just the kind of stuff he doesn't buy.

Joey tilts his head.  "I think you need emeralds.  Or rubies. 
Which do you like better?"

"With a *nightgown*?  No way."

"Not with the nightgown, Chris," Joey says patiently.

Chris wrinkles his nose.  "Then with what?  I'm not exactly buying
ballgowns here."

"Why not?  We can, you know."

"And wear it where?" Chris asks bitterly.

"For me.  When we go dancing.  With the guys.  Under your clothes. 
Anywhere you want."

Joey," Chris starts.  This isn't an easy conversation for him. 
"Look.  I could make it work in the outside.  The whole girl thing. 
I could play it up and get people to buy it.  I'm good at that. 
But I don't want to.  This is a private thing.  A me and you thing. 
I don't want to turn it into another act."

"That's fine, baby.  That's totally okay with me.  But I'm still
buying you jewelry.  Every girl should have jewelry."  Joey kisses
Chris again.  "And you're my girl, so I'm getting you good
jewelry."

Chris sniffs, making his opinion of that plain, but ruins it by
smiling as he leans against Joey.

"Some of each," Joey murmurs quietly.  "Definitely some of each."

Chris pulls away and goes back to trying on clothes.

They spend a good hour in Fredrick's, not that Joey minds.  In the
end, all their boxes are wrapped up -- including the one Joey got
without having Chris try it on.  It's white, of course, with
feathers.  A little babydoll set with feathers on the hem and
neckline.  Joey's very pleased by thinking about Chris in it, and
touching the feathers and having Chris's skin underneath.  The
fantasy carries him through two jewelers, a dress shop and Old
Navy.

In fact, it takes him all the way to Wal-Mart.  Now that it's
midnight, they pretty much have the store to themselves.  Joey's
with Chris in the ladies nighties and underwear when he sees the
shoes across the way.  "Hey, Chris, how about thongs?"

"No way," Chris says adamantly.  "For one, that's so completely JC. 
For another, do you want me tripping and breaking my ankles?  Heels
like that with thongs?  I don't think so."  He looks at Joey
suspiciously.  "Unless that's the plan.  Put me in something that
makes me utterly helpless so you can ravish me at your leisure."

"Oh!  Good idea, c'mon."  He tugs Chris over and starts looking for
stiletto heels in the Women's Size 8 section.

Chris pulls back.  "Nuh-uh.  No way!"

"Why?" Joey asks.  He's got Chris's hand firmly and they're
standing in the middle of the aisle in Wal-Mart.  The silliness of
it makes him grin.

Chris grins back, 'cause he can't help it.  "Because you can
already pick me up and carry me back to your lair.  You don't
*need* new ways to overwhelm me."

"Think they have those in size 13?" Joey asks, pointing to some
kickass platform sandals.

"No.  Please tell me you're not thinking of getting those for
yourself.  *Please.*"

"I like them."

Chris squinches his eyes shut.  He loves Joey.  He really loves
Joey.  Joey's supporting his womanhood.  He should support whatever
Joey wants to do, even if Chris has built Joey into this manly man
in his head.  Well, a drama geek love-of-cooking man who sings,
anyway.  "Okay, but I'm not watching you do it."

Joey laughs and hugs Chris.  Then he pulls out the masculine
version and puts them on.  So, the toe ring thing is still a little
girly, but other than that -- "Whacha think?"

"I'm not looking."

"Look."

"Don't wanna," Chris says, but peeks anyway.

Joey pulls Chris close.  "Scared ya, didn't I?"

"Yes.  Definitely, yes."

"Better now?"

"Without the image of you tottering around in scary shoes?  Yes."

"You sure you don't want these?" Joey asks, holding up a pair of
yellow flipflops, with heels.

Chris gives him a look.  "I'll wear them, if you promise never ever
to wear the other ones."

"You don't have to wear them," Joey says.  "Let's go home."

Chris wants to stick his lower lip out and pout, because Joey seems
upset or maybe sad.  But he can't decide if it's male or female
pouting and, anyway, wearing them and then falling over and making
Joey want to fuck him sounds like a better plan.  "But we're still
getting them, right?"

"Sure!"  Joey tosses them in the cart and hustles Chris through
checkout and into the car.

Chris laughs at Joey's eagerness.  Happy Joey is definitely his
favorite Joey.

~~~~

The first time Chris dresses for success, so to speak, around other
people is around the other guys.  It's a specially planned
gathering, and Chris is sure that Joey tipped them off first.

In fact, he's kinda counting on it, given that he's taking this as
a chance to really dress up, too.  His fingers shake as he tries to
put on the emerald necklace.

Joey steps up behind Chris and fastens the clasp, kissing the back
of Chris's neck.  "You look lovely, baby."

Chris looks up at Joey. His hair has grown out a little, and wisps
of it curl around his face, framing it.  He's lost weight, too, to
make the illusion that more real.  He knows he really does look
good.  "Thanks, Joey."

"Have I told you I love you yet today?"

"Yep."

"Too bad, I'm tellin' you again.  Love you."

Chris tilts his head back and smiles up at Joey.  "Love you, too. 
You'll hurt them if they laugh at me, right?"

"Yes," Joey says, and his voice is full of finality.

Chris nods and then looks at himself in the mirror.  "Right.  I'm
ready."  He stands and twirls.  "How do I look?"

"Like this."  Joey picks  Chris up and carries him into the living
room, ignoring the protests.  The others are already there,
sprawled on the couch.

Chris waves at them.  Lance, the colossal dork, is already standing
up.

Joey gently sets Chris down.  Lance is grinning.  JC's all bubbly,
and, well, JCish.  Justin's looking completely stunned.

"Whoa," Justin breathes.

"Hi," Chris says.  "This is, um, me now."

Justin stands up and punches Joey in the arm.  "Why didn't you
*tell* me he was a hot girl!?"

"Why?" Chris asks archly.  "Were you gonna hit on me?"

"Hell, yes!"

Chris giggles.

Lance grins.  "Can I get a hug if I promise not to grope?"

Chris pouts.  "And here I expected you to try to kiss my hand."

Lance bows and kisses Chris's hand.  The glittery nail polish Chris
is wearing sparkles.  Lance notes that it matches both lipstick and
skirt perfectly.

Chris giggles again and this time reaches out to hug Lance.  "I
guess they're right.  Women really do appreciate men with manners."

Lance hugs Chris tightly.  "Kinda missed you."  He understands why
Joey and Chris have been kinda secluded, but he still missed them.

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "You missed me?  Didn't even think you
*liked* me all that much."

"Chris!"

"That's me."

Lance shakes his head and steps back.  "We all like you, Chris."

"Yeah, but Joey *loves* me."

"I know," Lance says simply.  "And, as the second best friend,
allow me to say that if you break his heart, I'm going to have to
destroy your motorcycle.  And your makeup."

"Hah!" Chris says.  "Like I'd care about any of those things if I
did."

"Good answer."

JC looks up.  "Can I borrow that nail polish sometime?"

"No, but you can have the bottle."  Chris grins and hugs JC.  "You
guys are great."

JC kisses Chris on the cheek.  "We know," he says smugly.

"So," Chris says, still grinning madly.  "You ready for dinner?"