Cosplay Euphoria

Ingredients list (mild spoilers):

2 cups cosplay shenanigans

1 cup cis-male/non-binary sex

1 cup crossdressing and gender play

1/2 cup exhibitionism and being watched

2 tbsp gratuitous costume descriptions

Many thanks to Actingup, YmaOHyd, and SinclairGroupLLP who each provided invaluable brainstorming, feedback, and beta-reading at different points along the way!

"Really? A Goofy Movie? Like with Disney's Goofy? Mickey Mouse's friend?"

"Well, yeah. But hear me out, Scout! It's a coming-of-age story about Goofy's son. It's about loss, and generational trauma and abuse, and parents trying to understand and connect with their kids. It's also a Black-coded nerd classic, with an incredible soundtrack. Don't make me give you a TED talk. My family had an old VHS copy and no cable or streaming, my brothers and I probably watched it a thousand times. I bet I could still do the dance from the end of the movie."

"Uh-huh. And Roxanne? Goofy's son's love interest? She's your big formative childhood crush?"

"Yep. She was the whole package. Cute, smart, kind... interested in the skinny brown kid that nobody else looked twice at..."

"Oh. Now I think I get it," I say. I scooch a little closer to Jeremy and rest my head on his shoulder. We're sharing a fleece blanket, cuddled on my couch, watching some kind of baking contest on Netflix. Or maybe it's a serial killer documentary, I haven't really been paying attention. It's pretty great.

The whole last month has been pretty great. Still a lot of new relationship energy, still a lot of new things to learn about each other. I asked to take it slow, and Jeremy agreed. I mean, not slow slow, we hopped into bed after a couple of weeks.

But first time stories are boring. First times are awkward and unsatisfying. Tenth and twentieth times are much better. It's part of why I never understood hookup culture. You spend so much emotional energy trying to get some rando into bed for an unsatisfying, poorly calibrated fuck. Even the playingest players can only get two, maybe three hookups in a month. Jeremy and I have fucked almost every night for the last two weeks!

"Okay, your turn, Scout. Formative media crush, go!"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Mine's pretty boring. Princess Leia and Han Solo in Star Wars."

"Both of them?"

"Both of them. Which was pretty confusing, for a while."

"No, I totally get it. Han's not my type, but I get it. Princess Leia, though... Heard, Chef."

"Yup. Especially..." I feel my cheeks getting red. "Never mind. Hey, do you want popcorn? I want popcorn. I'm going to make some popcorn."

"Sure, I would have some popcorn. But don't change the subject! 'Especially,' what? Come on, I just confessed my love for a cartoon dog girl from 1995."

"Ugh, fine. Especially... in Return of the Jedi when Leia gets taken prisoner by Jabba the Hutt and he forces her to wear that skimpy harem slave girl outfit and she gets collared and chained and pushed around and paraded around in front of a bunch of aliens and then she chokes Jabba to death with her own chains." I feel my face -- and other parts -- heating up as I kinkdump. "I thought the whole situation was so fucking hot, and I couldn't really articulate why. I could never figure out if I wanted her, or if I wanted to be her."

"Wow. Okay, yeah, that makes sense."

I jump up from the couch and retreat to my cramped apartment kitchen, rummage in my cupboard for a bag of microwave popcorn, unwrap the plastic, study the instructions.

I'm wearing a hoodie, a pair of boyshorts, but my legs are bare. Shit, it's actually the same hoodie I was wearing on Bathroom Day, now that I think about it. I'm starting to get more comfortable exposing my body to Jeremy, tentatively learning to enjoy his gaze, his touch, the feeling of being desired.

"So umm. Hey Scout, you know how we were talking about going to the Comic-Con next month?"

"Yeah, sounds like fun. I'm a little worried about how I'll handle the crowd, but if you can be my buffer I'm up for it."

"Yeah! Absolutely! Um. You know, I've got this friend, Rosa, we kind of grew up together. And she's super into cosplay, she loves making costumes for people. Her work is really amazing, and she owes me after I helped her set up a commerce website. And I'm wondering, would you want to dress up with me?"

"You want me to cosplay? In public? Shit, I can barely handle going out in public in fucking jeans and a hoodie."

"Yeah but listen. You told me you wanted to start taking more risks in life. And the last time you took a chance it worked out pretty well, right?" He looks at me from across my tiny apartment with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. Yeah, the last time I took a chance it led to us mutually masturbating in the office bathroom, followed by a very awkward dinner date. But it did work out pretty well.

"Maybe... If it was the right costume."

"How about Princess Leia?" He asks hopefully. "Jabba's harem slave Leia?" He asks even more hopefully.

"No. Fuck no. Hell fucking no!" I furiously jab some buttons on my microwave.

"Okay okay, it was worth a shot." he holds up his hands in surrender. "What about Han Solo? You said he was on your list too. Roguish, badass, doesn't give a fuck, hint of soulful vulnerability underneath? You wouldn't need to wear anything revealing, either! Boots, pants, shirt, vest, a sweet hip holster for your blaster!"

My brain does not immediately recoil at the thought. Little explosions start firing off inside the bag in the microwave.

"I... might consider it. Who would you go as, then?"

"I could be Luke Skywalker? Oh, or Chewbacca! I could be your furry copilot, Scout!"

I stare at Jeremy from across the room. A whiff of smoke tickles my nostrils, and I hastily stop the microwave before too much of the popcorn burns.

"I think I have a better idea," I say with a grin.

We take Jeremy's little hatchback out to a bustling industrial business-incubator neighborhood near the edge of town.

"Rosa lives in a converted garage out here, where she... um... Makes," Jeremy says.

"Makes what?"

"Anything. Everything. 3D printing, injection molding, CNC machining, TIG welding..."

"I think I know what one of those things are, the rest sounds like Huttese."

"Sorry. I think she makes most of her money fabbing replacement machine parts for some of the manufacturers out here, stuff that would cost a fortune for a big factory to replace or repair. And as a hobby, she cosplays and makes some of the best costumes I've ever seen!"

Rosa's garage is surprisingly homey. Big area rugs on the bare concrete mark out living areas; a hand-me-down couch and chairs; a milk crate entertainment center. Japanese paper shoji panels wall off what looks like a bedroom area.

The other half of the garage is workspace. An old salvaged drafting table; desktop computer; rack of 3D printers; crates and barrels full of a huge variety of materials and random-seeming objects; some heavy machining equipment that I don't know enough about to identify by name.

Rosa Waitangi is maybe the most interesting-looking person I've ever met, actually. She's tall, taller than Jeremy, so probably six-foot-one, at least. A little chubby, but mostly muscular. Big thick shoulders and arms, big boobs, wide hips. She's currently just wearing a black sports bra and a pair of grimy denim work overalls, looming over some kind of lathe or something.

A full-sleeve tattoo on her right arm, elaborate geometric blackline designs that go down past her elbow and intertwine around her muscular forearm and thick wrist.

She's built like a tank mechanic, or maybe just a tank. Her face is cute, broad nose, big brown eyes, lots of smile lines around her mouth, dark brown hair tied up in a bun, bangs covering most of her forehead.

"Hey Jer Bear," She greets Jeremy with a grin and a big hug, her voice rich and deep. "Is this the theyfriend you told me about?"

"Jer Bear?" I mouth at him silently. He turns red.

"Hey Rosa! This is Scout, my um, partner," Jeremy says with a grin.

"Hi Rosa," I mumble, reach out for a handshake, realize how dorky that is, drop my hand to my side, start turning red.

Rosa short-circuits my awkward spiraling by stepping toward me and grabbing me in a big, soft hug. Her tits squish into my chest, her strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, nearly lifting me off the ground. She smells of machine oil and coffee and lavender soap. I'm not much of a hugger, but it's a good hug.

"I'm so glad you're finally cashing in your favor, Jer! Tell me about your costume idea, and we'll see what we can do." Rosa leads us to her living room area and we take a seat on her couch.

"We were thinking, Han Solo and Princess Leia," Jeremy says.

"Okay, classic. A little tame, but classic..."

"But gender bent," I chimed in. "I would be Han, Jeremy would be Leia."

"Now we're talking!" Rosa says with a grin. "So first off, that's called a 'crossplay,' not a genderbend. Genderbend is when you change the gender of the character being cosplayed and adapt their costume design accordingly. Like, I don't know... sexy MILF hamburger clown Rosalin McDonald, or something," She says with a laugh. "Crossplay is when you cosplay as a character of a different gender, and don't change the character or their outfit."

Jeremy and I both nod silently, clearly out of our element.

"Don't sweat it. The community is really welcoming and friendly, everyone at the con is just there to have fun! It's not like you're entering a competition or anything. So the next question is, which version of these characters? Leia's got a lot of great costumes to choose from in the original trilogy."

"The metal bikini version," Jeremy says with a hint of embarrassment. It was my idea, I would've accepted a negotiation down to A New Hope Princess, or even Endor Forest Tomboy. But he didn't try to bargain about it, not once.

"Mmhmm," Rosa says, grinning. "I'm going to use my cosplay intuition and guess that this is fulfilling a fantasy, right? But is it your fantasy, or Scout's?"

"Scout's fantasy, definitely," Jeremy answers a little too quickly. Rosa's grin gets even bigger, but she doesn't push it.

"Okay Scout, what about you? Han's got kind of a uniform throughout the original trilogy, but there is some variation."

"Oh. I mean, classic Space Cowboy? Shirt, vest, pants, holster."

"Totally. But there are differences between his look in each movie, different colorways for the pants, different cuts for the shirt."

I look at her blankly, suddenly feeling like a bad student who didn't do their homework before the class discussion. Fortunately Rosa seems to be pretty perceptive, and rescues me.

"If you don't have a strong opinion, I can make some of those choices for you if you like?"

"Yes! I mean, that would be great. I'll defer to your expertise."

"Sounds good! Now let's get some measurements. You'll both need to strip down to your underwear."

Rosa pulls a tailor's measuring tape out of a pocket on her overalls, and watches us expectantly.

Shit. Fuck! I guess it makes sense, she needs to size the pieces to our bodies... but it didn't even occur to me, I haven't prepared myself. I've always been uncomfortable showing off my body, both before and after I came out as non-binary.

But then I got pulled into a sexting conversation at work, and Jeremy found out, and then we snuck into the bathroom and watched each other get off. So I guess I'm growing, a little bit.

Jeremy stands up and pulls his vintage Sunny Day Real Estate t-shirt up and over his head, revealing his long, lean frame. It's not that he's particularly buff, but his shoulders and pecs and stomach are well-defined, his creamy brown skin smooth and soft, a little sprinkle of dark curly chest hair. He unzips his jeans and slides them down his legs, then stands back up wearing only his Pac Man boxer shorts.

"Lookin' good, Jer Ber," Rosa says, and I watch her eyes roam over his body. She steps closer to him and starts moving the tape over and around different parts of his body, pausing to write numbers down on a little pad of paper.

Then she turns to me. I freeze, unable to move. I'm wearing a hoodie today, so I don't have a binder on, or even a sports bra or undershirt. I'll be completely topless.

"Ready, Scout?"

"I... I'm..." I barely squeak out. I feel the seed of a panic attack starting to form in my chest. I think Jeremy senses my anxiety, like an epilepsy-sniffing service dog. He steps over to me and gently puts a hand on my back.

"We don't have to do this, Scout," Jeremy says softly. "Rosa, maybe you could just give us a measuring tape to take back with us? Show me how to take measurements, and I can do it?"

"Oh, shit, Scout, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I probably should've given you more warning about this part. Jer is right, we could..."

"No, it's fine. I can do this. I just need a second," I say, closing my eyes, breathing through it. I want to do this. I'm safe. Jeremy is with me. Rosa is kind. I'm safe.

I open my eyes and give Jeremy a kiss on the cheek, and take a step forward. I take off my pants, revealing my pale legs and black boyshorts. I take another deep breath, then pull my arms into my hoodie and push it up and over my head, getting caught briefly on my glasses, before I pull it off and drop it to the floor.

I instinctively cross my arms to cover my chest, but realize that's stupid and would make measurements impossible, so I drop them to my sides. My nipples harden at the sudden exposure. My heart pounds uncontrollably, and my pulse sounds like crashing waves on my eardrums.

Rosa smiles at me shyly. She doesn't say a word, just gently takes my wrists in her much larger hands, lifts my arms up and away until they're at right angles from my body. She slides her tape along my skin. Wrist to shoulder, around my neck, around my waist, quickly around my chest with barely a touch, over before I can even react.

She observes and deconstructs my body in less than a minute, professional but kind. I feel exposed, but respected. Uncomfortable, but with a little current of... something else, underneath.

"All done! Alright you two, I think that's all I need from you for now. I'll text you in a couple weeks, Jer."

I mumble some thanks, get dressed, and hustle out of the garage while Jeremy says goodbye.

"So, that's Rosa!" Jeremy says as we're driving back to my apartment. It's late afternoon now, traffic has gotten worse, the drive is going to take a while.

"She's kind of amazing," I say. "And kind of fucking hot. Have you ever..."

"Me and Rosa? No. No way. Pretty sure she'd break me in half," Jeremy says with a chuckle.

"She can break me in half any time," I mutter. Jeremy accidentally bumps the windshield wiper knob, spraying blue fluid on the windshield.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, I keep going. "I mean, those muscles, those tits! Don't you want to just... let her throw you around?"

The car behind us honks angrily as Jeremy briefly swerves into the other lane.

Shit. I was just trying to tease Jeremy, but now I'm thinking about Rosa. Imagining her undressing and handling my body in far more intense, unprofessional ways than she did today. Now I'm horny. Really horny.

"How um. How much longer till we get home?"

"In this traffic? Probably forty minutes, at least. Why?"

"I think I need to take care of something," I say, looking at him meaningfully. He looks at me uneasily.

"You need to wha-- Scout no! I'm driving!"

"So drive! I'm not asking you to go down on me or anything. Just keep your eyes on the road?"

I recline my seat a couple of notches, and unzip my jeans. I stick a hand down my pants and underwear. I slip a couple of fingers into my slick tunnel, thumb pressed into my button, groaning with relief.

"This is totally not fair," Jeremy complains, sneaking glances over at me when traffic slows or we hit a light. He keeps adjusting his pants and fidgeting in his seat.

"I'll make it up to you when we get back to my place," I say, luxuriating in the naughty sensation of semi-public masturbation, spiced with an extra umami flavoring of knowing how aroused and frustrated it's making my boyfriend.

"Not good enough," He counters. "I think... I think you should touch yourself while I drive you home, but no orgasms until we get out of the car and can do it together." Jeremy likes to negotiate with this kind of thing, it's how he scored that first date with me.

"Fuck," I moan, feeling a jolt of added arousal. "How much longer?"

"Thirty minutes, maybe?"

"Fuck."

A couple of weeks later, we're back at Rosa's. She's opened the big sliding door on her "house," letting a cool breeze blow through the garage.

Rosa's not wearing grimy work clothes today. She's got on a pair of snug sage green workout leggings that emphasize her intimidatingly powerful thighs, ample bottom and wide hips. A white tank top shows off her broad shoulders and thick biceps, her large soft tits creating an impressive display of cleavage.

"Hi Jer, hi Scout," Rosa says. She beams at us, then averts her eyes. Oh my God, she's nervous. I've been having anxiety about this for weeks, and Rosa is the nervous one!

I'm up first. She tells Jeremy to have a seat on the couch in the living room area, and leads me back to the bedroom area behind the paper screen. There's a full Han Solo costume laying on her bed, the classic space cowboy look. Beige v-neck undershirt, black vest, denim pants with a red stripe up the side, leather belt and hip holster, boots.

"It's actually a little bit of a mash-up design," Rosa says, almost apologetically. "Most of the outfit colorways are from Return of the Jedi, but the pants are from A New Hope. He wore brown pants with a yellow stripe in Return, but I thought the denim with red would look better on you. I hope that's okay?"

"Uh, yeah, it looks amazing, Rosa."

"I also went with the Empire Strikes Back undershirt. It's got a button flap at the neck, instead of the deeper V. I figured, if you wanted to wear a binder with it..."

"Oh, yeah. That's incredibly thoughtful, Rosa. Should I, um... try it on?"

Rosa smiles widely, nodding enthusiastically. After a beat she realizes that she's staring, then spins around to face the wall while I get undressed and start putting on the costume.

"Once you're ready, I have a blaster for you too. There are a few different detail variations throughout the trilogy, but it's basically a German broomhandle Mauser pistol modified with a machined aluminum..." She quickly loses me in the gun details, but her nervous enthusiasm is pretty endearing.

Once fully dressed, I turn to look at myself in a big full-length mirror Rosa has propped up against the wall of the garage. The fit is perfect, snug but comfortable. Every bit of the outfit feels authentic and lived-in, accurate and realistic in every detail. I look... totally badass. Confident and roguish like Han, and if I may say so, fucking sexy. I could wear this in public. I could be seen in this. I could be proud of my body in this.

"Wow, you look amazing, Scout! It really suits you," Rosa says shyly.

"Rosa, I... You... Thank you. I don't really know what else to say!" I flail both literally and metaphorically, my hands flapping uselessly. I'm not a hugger. But my body lurches over to Rosa before my brain can stop it, and wrap my arms around her strong, thick waist, squeezing her tightly.

She squeaks in surprise, then responds by wrapping her big muscular arms around my shoulders, returning the squeeze and sighing happily. She's warm, and she smells nice.

I awkwardly let go of her. She tells Jeremy to close his eyes while I slip out of the bedroom area without him seeing me, and then she leads him to the bedroom to try on his costume. I lean back against the couch in Rosa's living room space and fiddle with my blaster.

I listen to them chatting from the other side of the paper screen.

"Oh. Wow. Okay," Jeremy mumbles, I can practically hear him blushing. A soft rustling of fabric as he presumably undresses and then puts on his costume.

"And now, the finishing touch," Rosa says, followed by the sound of clinking metal.

"Oh shit!" Jeremy exclaims. What the fuck is going on in there?

"Okay Scout, we're coming out," Rosa says. "Time for your big reveals!"

Jeremy steps out from behind the screen, Rosa following behind him.

Rosa's craftsmanship for Jeremy is so perfect, so detailed. This isn't a cheap Princess Leia knockoff from Amazon, it's made with love. The bikini piece is foam and plastic for comfort, but it looks pretty convincingly like metal and leather. Jeremy's prominent collarbone and long lean torso is proudly displayed, smooth and soft with a faint happy trail of curly black hair leading from his belly button down past the copper-colored belt piece.

The crimson fabric of the loincloth contrasts nicely with Jeremy's soft brown skin, his athletic legs exposed all the way up to his hip bones.

And then my gaze is drawn to the collar and chain. Rosa sees me examining it, senses my interest, and grins at me. "Leia cosplayers usually cheap out on the chain, they go plastic or they just get a dinky little length of skinny costume jewelry chain. Not me."

The chain is thick and chunky, and looks long enough to drag on the ground unless Jeremy drapes it over one of his lithe, veiny arms. "It's real metal," Rosa says proudly. "It was a real bitch to source, but I found an aluminum chain in the right size and thickness. It looks heavy, makes a good sound, but it's still light, and shouldn't be too uncomfortable."

She takes the end of the chain and hands it to me, letting me feel its cool metallic weight.

I've probably watched Return of the Jedi a couple dozen times, and I never realized that each link of Leia's chains were carefully wrapped with thin copper wire, giving it extra visual texture. It's like a work of art... a very sexy work of art.

My eyes follow the length of chain from my hands up to the copper collar encircling Jeremy's neck.

I stare at Jeremy. Jeremy stares at me. I feel heat rushing to my pink bits. I look down to see a growing tent in Princess Leia's loincloth. He's not wearing anything underneath it.

Unthinkingly, like an autonomic reflex, I tug on the chain. Jeremy gasps as he's pulled closer to me. Oops, didn't mean to do that.

His eyes are wide as a DVD, and his physical arousal is obviously increasing. I pull on the chain again, until he's nose-to-nose with me, his princess wand poking into my stomach. I turn my head up and give him a hungry kiss, and he responds in kind, biting my lip, our glasses clicking together and fogging up.

"So... I'm guessing that you like the costumes?" Rosa asks. Jeremy and I both practically jump a foot off the ground, having briefly forgotten that we weren't alone.

"Oh shit! Rosa! Sorry!" I blurt out. "Um. Yes. I like it. Jeremy, do you like it?"

Jeremy appears to have gone non-verbal. He keeps opening his mouth, but nothing's coming out. I'm still holding onto his chain. He's still sporting an erection under his slave girl loincloth.

"I think Jer likes it," Rosa says with a naughty grin.

"Yeah. Um. I think we need to go, Rosa. Come on Jeremy, let's head back to..."

"You don't have to go," Rosa chirps. "I mean, not if you don't want to. Looks like Jer Bear needs some relief sooner rather than later."

Now it's my turn to go non-verbal. Rosa is looking back and forth between us, her face shifting between embarrassment and lust. Her nipples are clearly erect under her tank top, and she's breathing heavily.

Shit. Do I want to stay here, fuck my boyfriend while he's dressed like my favorite Disney Princess? (Come at me nerds, Lucasfilm is owned by Disney, Leia is a princess, Disney Princess, QED.) While this amazonian shop jockey watches us? Yes. Yes I do.

Can I work up the nerve to say so? To act on that impulse? To get what I want? Jeremy's no help, he can barely talk to people under normal circumstances.

"I... could stay for a while. Jeremy, do you want to stay?" He nods silently. His cock is still straining against the fabric of his costume.

Two horny, subby, introverted exhibitionists. We might need some help to break the seal, here.

"Okay," I mumble, "We'll stay. Um. What do you think we should do, Rosa?"

She looks at us for a while, eyes roaming over both of our bodies. "Well Han, if I remember correctly, Princess Leia here just killed Jabba the Hutt and helped rescue you. It seems like you owe her." Rosa giggles, an incongruous sound from such an absolute mountain of a woman.

Fuuck. We're really doing this. "What can I do to repay you, Princess?" I say, staring into Jeremys big brown eyes. Come on buddy, you got this.

He stares back at me. His eyes flick to Rosa, watching us expectantly. His eyes flick back to me, roaming over my body, giving me goosebumps. "Turn around. Bend over, you scoundrel," He says at last. Oh shit.

I turn around and lean forward, over the back of Rosa's couch. I feel Jeremy's strong narrow hands touch my hips, then grab my ass and squeeze my cheeks roughly through my space smuggler pants, making me gasp.

"Scoundrel? I like the sound of that," I say, my memory banks pulling up my favorite lines from the movies.

Jeremy reaches his hands around my waist and unbuckles my holster belt, letting it drop to the floor. Then he unbuttons my pants and pulls them down roughly, dragging them down my legs and leaving them gathered around my ankles. My underwear follows, and suddenly I'm face down, ass up, completely exposed. And soaking wet.

My thick, fuzzy bush is practically dripping. I feel Jeremy's fingers travel along my ass crack and between my legs, tickling my fronthole. "Quiet, you scruffy looking nerf herder," He growls. Wow, he's really getting into this.

"Who's scruffy loo-- ohh fuck," I moan as his digits enter me, curling up from behind and rubbing against the back wall of my tunnel. I hear Rosa make a shuddering, moaning gasp, and remember that she's watching this unfold just a few feet away. I don't think I've ever been this turned on in my entire life.

"Fuck me, Princess," I plead, face pushed against a couch cushion.

I feel Jeremy lean over me, and he breathes in my ear. "I love you."

"I know," I say, then yelp as he pushes his long skinny cock into me from behind.

The Star Wars quotes start to break down at that point, as he settles into a steady rhythm, hands grasping my hips, his chain bumping into my thighs with each thrust. I reach an arm around and grab it, both to move it out of the way and because holding it, knowing it's attached to my boyfriend's neck is just unconscionably hot.

I turn my head and look at Rosa. She's got a hand up under her tank top, roughly squeezing one of her big breasts, her other hand stuffed down her leggings. We make eye contact and I feel my tunnel clench with an extra notch of arousal, moisture gushing onto Jeremy's cock. I push back into him forcefully, and growl, "Cum in me, Princess."

"Oh God, Scout!" Jeremy moans, his pace becoming erratic, fingers sinking into the flesh of my buttcheeks. I'm right there with him, and we both crash into a powerful shared orgasm. I hear Rosa's rich voice whimper quietly, and her knees buckle as she sits down hard on the ground, hand frantically moving across her pussy.

It's a long time before anyone says anything. Eventually Jeremy softens and pulls out.

"Shit!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry Rosa, your costumes!"

"Relax, Scout," she chuckles. "You think this is the first time I've had to clean cum out of a princess cosplay?"

Rosa lets Jeremy and I use her shower, and packs our costumes into some garment bags while we get dressed. Jeremy invites her to go get dinner with us, but she politely declines.

Jeremy and I head to Wasabi Wheel and split a pepperoni and miso pizza on nori-crust.

"Not that I'm complaining, but I don't really know what came over me," Jeremy says through a bite of pizza. "I've never, um, crossdressed before. I didn't know I would react like that."

"Yeah, well, I've never held a chain connected to my collared boyfriend before. Or had sex while someone else watched."

"I guess we're learning all kinds of new things today," He says with a laugh.

"Yeah. Like that your childhood friend Rosa wants to fuck you."

Jeremy chokes on his matcha-coke. "What?!"

"Oh my God," I roll my eyes. "I can only imagine how long she's been dropping hints at you. Years, probably."

Jeremy stares at the table and slowly chews his pizza, and I can practically see memories being projected on his glasses like computer monitors, replayed and re-analyzed in the light of a new data set.

"So. Um. Are you sure you're ready for this weekend?" Jeremy says quite a while later. "We're really going to dress up like your two favorite character crushes and walk around in public?"

"Fuck, don't put it in those terms," I hiss. "Listen, I'm nervous as hell. But I want to open myself to more new experiences, take more chances. And if you're with me, I think I can handle it."

He looks at me and smiles, stretching his slender brown hand across the table and laying it on mine.

Saturday. It's time for the local Comic-Con. Nowhere near as big as the one in San Diego, but still a few thousand people from the area. I'm about to go there with Jeremy, dressed in crossdressing cosplay. I'm fucking terrified, but also excited, and kind of proud to get to show off my cute boyfriend. Check me out, a fully functional adult!

We take Jeremy's hatchback to downtown near the convention center, but parking is impossible. We finally find a spot four blocks away, which means we have to walk down the street in broad daylight, enby Han Solo and femboy Princess Leia.

Fortunately we're not the only ones. The sidewalks are filled with hundreds of obvious con-goers, also on their way to the convention center. Some are in cosplay outfits like us, most are just standard issue nerds and weebs, wearing superhero t-shirts or anime kimonos or cat ears, but all are happy, smiling, laughing, walking alone or in pairs or in big rambunctious groups. The crowd energy is pretty infectious, and soon I'm smiling along with them, holding Jeremy's hand as we walk, his slave-girl chain wrapped around both our arms.

"How are you doing, Jeremy?" I ask, checking in on his status. He's the half-naked one, but I'm depending on him as a social buffer right now.

"Great, Scout! This is kind of fun," he says breathlessly. "I'm trying not to get turned on, to be honest."

"Shit, they'll kick us out of the con if you're walking around with a princess boner! Just, I dunno, think of Jabba the Hutt trying to lick you, or something."

"Eugh. Boner successfully killed."

Lining up at the entrance to the convention center, I scan the crowd and get my bearings. There are so many cosplayers here. Classic sci-fi and fantasy characters, lots of anime characters, a whole pack of weird skinny young nerds dressed as characters from one of those weird skinny new animated shows that feel custom-made to create parasocial obsessions for lonely goth kids.

I have to get my blaster peace-bonded before we can go inside. A con worker -- flanked by a security guard -- examines it to make sure it's not a functional weapon, then ties a little red ribbon on it to mark it as safe.

Once we're inside the convention hall we wander around for a while. We peek into some of the celebrity panelist rooms, B-list actors who featured in C-list TV shows from the 90's and 2000s.

We browse the vendor floor, where hundreds of people are selling crafts and collectibles and comic books and art. I feel a looming presence behind us, and glance over my shoulder to see a giant Master Chief from Halo, in full Spartan armor.

"Hey Scout, hey Jer Bear," Master Chief says in a strong, feminine voice, slightly muffled by the helmet.

"Rosa!? Shit, you look amazing! How's the con going for you so far?"

"Aww thank you, Scout! It's going okay..." Rosa's broad shoulders droop in her armor, and her helmet tilts down at an unmistakably sad angle.

"What's wrong?" Jeremy asks. "Maybe we can help?"

She sighs. "Well... there's a couples cosplay contest happening today, and I was planning on entering some of my work in it. I had a couple all set to compete, a Zelda and Link pair of costumes that I was really proud of. But Zelda just texted me... they both got food poisoning. They can't come today, so they're out of the contest."

I make eye contact with Jeremy and raise my eyebrows. He nods. I take a deep breath. This might be the scariest thing I've ever done up to this point in my life, but...

"We could do it," I say.

"You... You would enter the contest? Both of you?"

Jeremy nods. "Sure Rosa, I know how much this stuff means to you. You made these costumes, they're incredible. You deserve to get credit for them."

Rosa squeals and grabs both of us, one in each muscular arm, lifting us off the ground.

"I love you two so much," she yells, loud enough for the people around us to turn and stare.

We hustle over to stand at the end of the line next to the stage, along with the other cosplay couples. There are some good ones. Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask. Xena and Gabrielle. Kiki and Tombo from Kiki's Delivery Service. Mary Poppins and Bert the Chimney Sweep. Surprisingly hot, that one...

We're the only couple doing crossplay though, maybe that will count for something? Jeremy looks up the line at the rest of the competition.

"Shit," Jeremy hisses. "There's another Han Solo and Princess Leia! They're at the front of the line, I can't get a good look at them."

The contest MC calls them up to the stage. "Let's hear it for Anthony and Severina as Han Solo and Princess Leia!" They strut around on the stage, showing off. The man is a beefcake and he knows it, twirling his blaster -- obviously plastic -- around on his finger and flexing. The woman is a stacked blonde, mincing around in high heels, blowing kisses. Heels! Rookie mistake, Leia obviously wore flat leather slippers in the Jabba scenes.

"Their costumes are made by... no maker listed. What was that Anthony? Spirit Halloween? Oookay." The crowd gives them a polite round of applause, but a bunch of the guys in the audience hoot and wolf-whistle as the woman giggles and jiggles what her plastic surgeon gave her. A panel of three judges sit at a folding table facing the stage, scrutinizing the costumes and cosplayers and taking notes.

Couple by couple, the contestants take their turn on the stage as the MC announces names, characters, and costume makers. My heart starts beating faster and faster as the line gets shorter and shorter, until finally it's our turn.

"And last but not least, we have a late entry, Scout and Jeremy as another Han Solo and Princess Leia! Their costumes were made by local artisan, Rosa Waitangi."

There are so many fucking eyes on us, right now. The judges, the other contestants, hundreds of people in the crowds. Some of them are taking pictures or videos. I think I'm going to have a panic attack.

But people are responding. Some of them are laughing. I try not to take it personally, crossplay is inherently silly. But they're smiling, nodding, pointing out specific details of our costumes that are particularly nice. Emboldened -- and dissociating from my body, a little -- I pick up Jeremy's chain and give it a playful tug, making him follow me around as I circle the stage, trying my best to look roguish and confident.

I see an older woman in the crowd elbow her husband and say "Why don't you let me do that to you?" The guy turns beet red, and he can't take his eyes off Jeremy.

We make it to the other side of the stage and retreat down the stairs. I need to get out of here.

"I need to get out of here," Jeremy whispers into my ear. I turn to look at him, and he points his eyes meaningfully downward. He's getting an erection.

"Shit! Right. Stay close. Follow me," I mutter. We make our way through the crowd, me leading like an icebreaker clearing a path, Jeremy so close behind me that I can feel his cock pressing into my lower back.

People want to talk to us, compliment our costumes, ask questions, score our numbers. I mumble noncommittal responses until we get to the edge of the crowd and can duck into a service corridor.

"What the fuck, Jeremy?"

"I don't know!" He hisses. "I just... All those people looking at me, looking at my body, dressed like a sexy space princess... I got excited!"

If I'm being honest, I get it. My nipples are rock hard and I'm soaking wet right now. "Yeah. Well, we need to do something about this," I say quietly, reaching out and grasping his long, hard cock through his loincloth.

I look around. We're hidden by a wall, so there's no direct line of sight to the main convention hall. There's nothing but an emergency exit at the other end of the corridor, so nobody can surprise us from that direction. I can hear crowd noises clearly, there are thousands of people just around the corner.

As I'm debating what to do, a shadow looms up the wall as someone approaches the corridor. It's a big shadow. It's Rosa! She's got her Spartan helmet under one arm, head uncovered, glossy dark hair tied in a tight bun. A little golden robot statue on a wooden plinth is in her other hand.

"Scout! Jer! You won! First place in the couples division, the judges were looking for you! I've got your trophy right he-- oh!" She locks eyes on my hand, which is locked on Jeremy's cock.

"Is that a lightsaber, or are you happy to see us?" She quips.

I roll my eyes. "Jeremy just discovered that crossdressing in front of a crowd makes him incredibly horny. I need to. Um. Help him take care of this."

Her eyes twinkle mischievously and she snaps her big muscular body to attention. "Spartan Rosa, ready for duty. I'll stand guard, you handle Jer Ber!" She steps into the center of the corridor, right in the angle of the corner, giving her an unimpeded view of both the convention hall and us. An alien flood couldn't get past her.

I push Jeremy against the wall, and squat down in front of him. I slide his loincloth to one side, and his long brown cock twitches in the cool conditioned air. I look up into his eyes, and he looks back at me in lustful awe.

I grab his cock by the base with one hand and guide its head into my mouth, slowly licking the underside of his glans, encircling the crown with my lips, making him moan quietly. I open my mouth wider and slide my lips over a couple of inches of nerdcock, dragging my tongue along the length of his shaft with each bob.

I'm not going to say I'm a cocksucking monarch or anything, I've done it a couple of times to Jeremy, and that's it. I'm sure my technique has a lot of room for improvement. But Jeremy's body and face and sounds are giving a lot of positive feedback.

I glance over at Rosa. She's staring right at me, watching my work intently, her lips slightly parted, breathing heavily. "Scout, this is the second time I've had to watch you enjoy Jeremy by yourself... Pretty soon I'm going to get tired of just watching."

I blink in what I hope looks like a friendly gesture, and hum an "Mmmhmm," at her, the harmonic vibrations of which make Jeremy shudder.

"What do you think, Jer Ber? Can the three of us get together next time?"

Jeremy is completely incapable of speech at this point, gasping for breath, trying to be quiet. He clenches his eyes shut and nods vigorously.

I decide to move this project forward, and jerk my fingers up and down the length of his cock that I can't fit in my mouth. My other hand reaches up and cradles his testicles, giving them a careful, gentle squeeze.

"Oh fuck, Scout, I'm..." Jeremy grunts. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls tightly as he cums, jets of hot sperm coating my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

Finally his cock relents, and I pull away from him with a wet pop. I stand up, adjust his loincloth for him to demurely cover his shrinking princess wand, and I give him a hard kiss. He doesn't seem to mind the taste of his cum on my tongue.

We both take a moment to catch our breath, suddenly shy, finding each others hands, gently intertwining our fingers together.

"You two are so fucking cute," Rosa says whistfully. "Ready to get back out there?"

We follow her back out into the convention hall, and realize that a buzz is growing in the crowd, bodies gravitating toward the main presentation stage. Instinctively, we follow the flow of people to see what's happening.

As we get closer, the crowd noise grows into a cheer, as someone hops up onto the stage. He's a thin Black man in his late forties, and he's wearing some kind of rubbery yellow jumpsuit.

"Oh. My. God!" Jeremy blurts out. "It's Tevin Fucking Campbell!"

"Who?" Rosa asks.

"Tevin Campbell! He's a famous -- well, semi-famous -- R&B singer," Jeremy says excitedly. He tries to rush ahead, but I'm holding onto his slavegirl chain and he pulls like a dog on a leash. I hustle to catch up to him, not wanting to choke my boyfriend out on the floor of the convention center.

"But he was also the singing voice of Powerline in A Goofy Movie," He continues, pushing through the crowd, making a gap for Rosa and I to slip through. A 90s synth sting starts blasting from the stage speakers. "No. No way. He's not..."

"I've got myself a notion, and one I know that you'll understand..."

The semi-famous singer's smooth crooning voice starts as a drum machine kicks in.

Jeremy screams, screams, with excitement. I've never seen him like this. We get to the front of the stage, and find an open space in the crowd where a handful of nerdy millennials and zoomers are doing some kind of ridiculous choreographed dance in time to the music.

Jeremy pulls me in for a kiss, then takes his chain from me, wraps it around his shoulders, and jumps into the dance area to join them.

"If we listen to each other's heart,

we'll find we're never too far apart..."

The sight of a skinny nerdy guy; half-naked and dressed like Princess Leia in a metal bikini; dancing enthusiastically to an obscure Disney song from the 90s; is not something I would have ever expected to find appealing. But right now, I think it's the cutest thing in the world. He grins at me and mouths the lyrics.

"And maybe love is the reason why,

for the first time ever we're seeing it eye to eye..."