You're Sweet

(Second chapter of a series. First chapter is called 'You're Very Pretty'. Series title: 'Just Playing Dress Up'.)

11:14pm:

SkaterRat420 -- that was amazing

SkaterRat420 -- goodnight x

11:15pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- goodnight xx

After falling asleep with a smile on his face, Tristan again starts to freak out in the morning.

The first thing he does when he wakes up is open his chat with Jay on his phone and stare at the goodnight messages. That... means it's fine, right? That Jay didn't instantly regret and hate what happened? But, he was still high... What if all the regret came this morning?

Tristan checks the time. Jay would have left for work already. Hasn't messaged him. Is that good or bad?

There's probably no good to come from getting increasingly panicked, so Tristan just gets up and does his best to go about his day without dwelling on it. Which is sort of difficult when the events of last night are all he can think about, but oh well.

01:15pm:

SkaterRat420 -- so. we should probably talk, right?

Despite the dread and nausea getting worse the longer the day went on without hearing anything, the message damn near gives Tristan a heart attack before he even opens it. And then he does open it, and he can't breathe. His fingers tremble as he types to respond.

01:17pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- yeah

xXfreakonaleashXx -- probably

01:18pm:

SkaterRat420 -- I'll be home around 9

01:18pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- ok

Tristan spends the rest of the afternoon so anxious he feels like he might throw up. He tries to distract himself, but can't really concentrate on anything. He ends up in bed, staring blankly at his laptop screen as a netflix show he isn't paying attention to plays, eyes constantly flicking to the time.

He's fairly sure he knows what kind of thing to expect from the conversation with Jay. Something along the lines of "That was fun but can we pretend it never happened?" which, he will then agree to. He'll apologise for making things weird, and they'll both pretend like it never happened. And, that will be that. Jay will try his best not to be awkward and to just have everything be normal, because he's nice like that. And hopefully it will work. Hopefully nothing's been ruined.

Though, even if everything can just be fine and go back to normal... Tristan knows that he'll never be able to stop thinking about everything that happened last night. Being on his knees, cock shoved down his throat while Jay moans his name. Tristan's sure he'll be thinking about that every time he touches himself until the day he dies.

Unless things are awkward between them forever until the friendship crumbles. But that concept is so horrifying that he can't even bring himself to picture it.

When it starts getting close to nine, Tristan is pacing up and down his room. He stops in front of his mirror for the hundredth time. He knows that he shouldn't be nervously checking how he looks. It's not like it matters, and he shouldn't be letting himself think that it does. He really needs to remind himself that this is Jay, and that Jay is straight. The only reason last night happened is because Tristan was dressed like a girl.

Frowning at his reflection, Tristan sighs.

It's not that he hates the way he looks. He used to, when he was younger. But he's since grown into himself a bit, as well as found a style that suits him. He's still definitely the scrawny emo weirdo he was as a kid, but he's totally owning it now.

And, it's definitely not that he wants to be a girl. Or even look like one, really. He just likes wearing pretty clothes. Sometimes. For fun.

It's just...

Now that he's had a taste of what it's like... he wishes desperately that he was someone Jay could be attracted to for real.

When he hears the sound of the front door, Tristan's heart jumps into his throat. Trying his best to calm himself down so he can appear casual about this and like he's not freaking the hell out, he steps over to his bedroom door and waits. He hears Jay greeting Luke, who's in the living room watching TV. Then there's a knock at his door. He takes a deep breath before opening it.

All it takes is one look at Jay for Tristan to feel his face burn and all oxygen leave his lungs. He glances behind him towards where Luke is in the living room, then looks at the ground as he steps aside to let Jay into his room and shut the door behind him.

Jay kicks off his shoes and sits cross-legged on Tristan's bed. He waits patiently for Tristan to join him, who slowly steps over, climbs up, and sits across from him with his knees pulled up to his chest.

"So, okay, um-" Jay starts, sounding unsure of where he's going. He runs a hand through his hair.

Tristan just stares down at the bed, sure that he already knows the gist of how this conversation is going to go and just trying to prepare himself not to look or sound too affected by the gentle rejection that's coming.

Jay takes a deep breath and starts over. "First things first: You're my best friend, and I absolutely cannot lose you. So, above all else, my main priority is not fucking anything up between us, okay?"

"Yeah." Tristan nods his head. He calms down ever so slightly, comforted that Jay is stressing this point. "Yeah, me too."

"And, uh." Jay laughs nervously. "Probably super lame of me, but," He's talking somewhat quietly, probably being careful due to Luke being out in the living room, "I kind of googled what to do after messing around with your best friend..."

That takes Tristan off guard. All of his anxiety momentarily dissipates, and he laughs. Because, damn, if that isn't such a Jay thing to have done. Tristan's sure he can remember a similar googling session taking place when Jay hadn't known how to break up with his first girlfriend.

"Yeah, I know, I know." Jay laughs too. "But, I just really didn't want to make things weird, okay? Or do something wrong and upset you or-" He coughs, seeming to rein himself in before starting to ramble. "I just didn't want to be stupid, I guess."

"No, yeah, that makes sense, don't worry." Tristan says, still giggling. He feels a bit more comfortable now, the tension definitely lessening. And, he does appreciate how much care Jay is taking not to hurt him right now. It's sweet. Even if Tristan really would rather get this out of the way than draw it out. "And what did google say?"

"Well," Jay also appears to relax some, the conversation lightening to something a bit less awkward, "we're meant to talk about it, be all open and honest and junk you know? Oh- It definitely did stress giving you space to work things out first though. Do you need space?"

"Um." Tristan pretends to think for a moment. "Don't think so."

"Okay, cool. So, now we need to get on the same page about, like, if what happened was a mistake. And if so, what we can do to re-establish boundaries so it doesn't happen again,"

As Jay repeats things he read on google, Tristan does his best not to let on how much the words 're-establish boundaries' hurt to hear.

"Or, like- where we go from here if stuff happening again was something we both wanted..."

It's a good thing that Jay's looking anywhere but at him, because Tristan instantly perks up at that, sitting up straighter and wide eyes fixed intently on Jay. It's unclear how serious of a possibility that second option is being presented as, and Tristan certainly isn't about to ask, since that risks letting on that he very much wants stuff to happen again. But he waits with bated breath for Jay's next words.

There's a long pause.

"So..." Jay looks to Tristan expectantly, and it suddenly becomes clear that he's waiting for some kind of response.

"Uh-" Tristan panics slightly, but does his best not to show it. It's unclear how good his poker face is. "So...?" Is all he can say back.

"So, was it just a mistake?"

It sounds a lot like Tristan is being expected to decide the answer to that question for the both of them. Which doesn't make a lot of sense to him. He blinks, slowly, feeling like this is a trap -- but also knowing that Jay wouldn't pull something like that.

"I-..." Searching Jay's expression for any sign that he wants a specific answer, but not finding one, Tristan hesitates. He's caught between the danger of being honest, and the complete safety he somehow feels right now anyway. "... Not... if... you don't think so...?"

"Well, obviously I don't think so."

"Wh- I-" Tristan stammers, confused. "Obviously??"

A small, boyish smile pulls at Jay's lips. "I mean, come on, man." His eyes flick towards the door and his voice drops slightly in volume, clearly wary of their other roommate possibly being within earshot. "I got the best damn blowjob of my life. I'm not exactly going to complain, am I."

Completely lost for words, all Tristan can do is stare; wide eyed, slack jawed, feeling heat rise to his face.

"But. Seriously." Jay's smile drops and he looks Tristan in the eye with a serious expression. It's similar to how he'd looked last night, when he'd been conflicted and guilty about staring, only this time far more intense. "What about you? Because- I know you seemed super into it at the time, but you were pretty high, you know? And don't just tell me whatever you think I want to hear, either. I know what you're like." Even more guilt bleeding into his words, he leans closer, placing a hand on Tristan's shoulder and squeezing lightly. "I'm so fucking serious, Tris. If I did or said anything that makes you uncomfortable now you've got a clear head, or if you feel used or weird in any way at all, then it was a huge mistake and I'm so sorry."

"Uhm." Tristan is entirely overwhelmed by this conversation taking a vastly different course than what he'd expected and prepared for. Flush burning even hotter at his cheeks, he desperately tries to process everything that's been said.

And it must be obvious how flustered he is, because Jay drops his hand and gives him more space. He waits patiently as Tristan takes a while to collect himself and think about his response.

"And," Tristan starts, slowly, "what if..." He gulps. He went into this expecting to lie his absolute ass off, and here he is about to do the opposite! But the possible reward is way too good to pass up if it's actually on the table, and Jay is making him feel way too safe to be honest right now. "What if I'm still just as into it?"

Jay smiles; grins, even. Then immediately tries to rein it in and look less excited. And Tristan is mentally screaming because holy shit, Jay actually wants last night to happen again. Holy shit holy shit holy shit-

"Then," Jay looks away, fidgeting nervously with his sleeves. "I guess we should agree on what this means and where we go from here...?"

"Okay." Tristan nods enthusiastically. "But what do you mean by that exactly?"

"Just... you know, " Jay thinks for a second. Tristan's not sure he's ever seen him being this careful with his words before. "Assuming something happens again -- if you'd want that, that is -- what would that-... I mean, absolutely nothing would be worth fucking everything up between us. So we need to know that won't happen. What if one of us gets hurt-"

"I promise not to get hurt." Tristan interjects quickly. It's a lie. What he means is that he promises not to show it or make it Jay's problem if he gets hurt. Because he's more than used to hiding the true extent of his feelings for his best friend, and making that little issue worse is a small price to pay if it means more of the attention he got a taste of last night.

"Oh-" Something unreadable flashes across Jay's face. He looks down, silent for a moment, before nodding. "Okay." He nods again. "Okay. Yeah... Me too."

"So," It's taking absolutely everything Tristan has not to be completely vibrating with joy and excitement right now. "You wanna do that again some time or whatever?" He's not sure how casual he's managing to sound.

"Yeah." Jay smiles, kind of bashfully, unable to keep his eyes on Tristan. He's even blushing a little. "If you do, I mean."

"I definitely do." Tristan nods. The realisation of how enthusiastic he sounds makes his face burn. He must be embarrassingly red. But he doesn't even care. Him and Jay just agreed to some form of casual sexual relationship; literally nothing else in the whole world matters. And it's not like Jay's even looking at him right now anyway.

"Awesome. That's-" Jay's voice cracks slightly. He coughs, and shifts to climbs off of the bed. "That's awesome." He slides his shoes back on. "Right, well- I should be going, I guess." He heads to the door, and lingers for a moment before opening it, turning back to look at Tristan. "Good talk."

"Mn." Tristan gives a small nod.

Pretty much the second the door closes behind Jay, Tristan throws himself onto his bed and squeals into his pillow like a teenage girl, even kicking his feet and everything.

And once he's done doing that, he literally pinches himself to make sure he isn't dreaming.

Then, with a huge grin on his face, he grabs his phone and opens the app he buys cheap clothing on. He doesn't have the money to buy anything, but he goes about browsing and adding things to his wish list. If Jay's attracted to him when he's dressed up, all of his spare money is going to be spent on more pretty clothes from now on.

~

Fortunately, the awkwardness of that conversation is quickly forgotten about. The next day, things are like they always are, save for Tristan's internal disbelieving joy screaming behind anything else he tries to think about ever.

And, as much as he thinks about it, Tristan doesn't try to start anything the first time he and Jay are alone in the flat. In fact, the two of them have an extremely normal time watching television together.

"Remind me why I bother watching this fucking show anymore?" Jay mutters, scrunching up his nose as he watches the TV. "It just keeps getting worse."

"I've been saying that for like two seasons now." Tristan mumbles from the other side of the sofa. He's paying more attention to the sketchbook on his lap than the television screen. "You'll never stop watching, though."

"Yeah." Jay sighs, knowing it's true; he's never once stopped watching a show after he's invested.

Tristan forces his eyes to remain on his drawing as he feels Jay move across the space he'd very intentionally left between them.

"That's dope as hell." Jay comments, looking over Tristan's shoulder at what he's doing.

"Mn?" Tristan moves his pencil away and tilts his head slightly, taking a moment to assess what he's drawn. "I don't like it."

"Why?"

Tristan shrugs. "Just looks bad is all." He mutters, putting pencil back to paper and continuing to draw. The drawing wasn't meant to be anything good, really. He just wanted something to focus on.

"Well, looks good to me. But what do I know." Jay chuckles slightly, standing up. "You want tea?" he asks, walking towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, okay." Tristan responds, still not looking up from his sketchbook. "Thanks."

When Jay returns, Tristan finally closes his book and puts it and his pencils down onto the coffee table. Jay places a mug down in front of him before sitting down with his own.

"So," Tristan picks up his tea, looking down into the steaming liquid as he does his best to sound casual. "You're still driving Luke up to see his mum tomorrow, right?"

"Mhm." Jay confirms, nodding. He grabs for the TV remote as the credits of the show they'd been watching start to play. "Should be gone most of the day." Despite still staring down at his tea, Tristan feels Jay's eyes briefly flick towards him. "Want me to give you a heads up before we get back?"

"Mn." Tristan nods, smiling slightly despite the blush that tinges his face. "If you can. That'd be great. Thank you."

"No problem." Jay switches the TV to youtube and puts on the first suggested video on the home screen, the newest upload of some let's play channel he watches. "God, I am not looking forward to that drive."

The conversation then pivots to how terrible Luke's taste in music is and how Jay regrets agreeing to spend all day driving him around when he's going to demand control of the music the whole time.

~

Even with the best part of a whole day to himself, Tristan wouldn't usually risk streaming for longer than maybe two hours. But now, since Jay's letting him know before he and Luke return home, there's nothing stopping him from going for over five hours. And since Jay still hasn't messaged him by the time he's done, he even has time to do laundry.

Tristan kneels beside the tumble dryer, unloading a fresh load of laundry consisting of the clothing he can't wash when he isn't alone. He's exhausted, yawning as he places skirts and lacy underwear into a laundry basket. He's never streamed for so long before, and didn't realise just how much it takes it out of you.

7:12pm:

SkaterRat420 -- we'll be back soon

Smiling down at his phone, Tristan responds by reacting the message with a thumbs up. Then he picks up his laundry and goes to put it away.

When the front door opens, Tristan is sitting on the sofa watching TV. "Hey." He greets casually as Luke stops past the sofa towards the kitchen. "How's the family?"

Luke's response is a tired grunt as he cracks open a can of beer.

"They're good." Jay says, placing a bag of takeout food onto the coffee table. "Margaret made me promise to make him visit more often."

At that, Luke groans.

Tristan chuckles. "Does Mia still make goo-goo eyes at you?" He asks Jay, mostly to annoy Luke, who groans again.

"That," Jay grimaces and shakes his head. "Has gotten worse, actually."

"And just so we're perfectly fucking clear, Jay." Luke seethes, walking back in from the kitchen. "I don't care how old she is now. She's still off fucking limits."

Jay rolls his eyes. "How many times do we need to go over this, man?" He pulls a container of food out of the bag and hands it to Luke. "I don't want your sister. Even if she wasn't a damn kid."

"Better stay that way is all I'm saying." Luke grumbles, sitting down next to Tristan. He grabs the remote and changes the TV from what Tristan had been watching to the football highlights.

Jay hands Tristan some food -- prawn chow mein, his favourite -- before sitting down next to Luke with his own. And the three eat in mostly silence, save for Jay and Luke occasionally discussing football.

Once finished eating, Luke carelessly tosses his empty beer can and food container onto the coffee table as he stands to retreat to his room without a word. When he's gone, Jay turns off the television before going about cleaning up after Luke.

"How much was my food?" Tristan asks, sitting up and stretching tiredly.

"Don't worry about it." Jay says, taking Tristan's trash too.

"Mn." Tristan shakes his head with a frown. "I can afford it." He hesitates for a moment before adding, "I made money today. More than I usually would."

"Yeah?" Jay looks over as he's throwing everything into the bin. "That's cool."

"Mn-hm." Tristan nods, smiling. He's kind of proud of himself for doing well, and getting to tell Jay makes it a hundred times better. "So, how much?"

Jay shrugs. "Call it a fiver."

"Mkay." Tristan mumbles, pulling out his phone. He yawns as he opens his bank to send Jay the money.

The two mumble tired goodnights to each other before both heading into their bedrooms.

In bed, Tristan scrolls through the camera roll on his phone, looking through the photos he took of himself today. He deletes the ones he doesn't like, and decides which ones he's going to put on onlyfans. Then he opens discord.

10:47pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- thanks for helping me out today btw

xXfreakonaleashXx -- its so much easier not having to worry about being interrupted

xXfreakonaleashXx -- feels so much safer

xXfreakonaleashXx -- made more money thanks to you

10:48pm:

SkaterRat420 -- anytime. I'm happy to help. you can always ask if you need

10:49pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- thank you

xXfreakonaleashXx -- its very helpful

xXfreakonaleashXx -- also

xXfreakonaleashXx -- its a lot more fun when i can just enjoy myself without worrying

10:50pm:

SkaterRat420 -- in that case, I'm extra happy to help :)

Tristan grins at that message for a moment. He goes back to the photos, flicks between some for a while. Biting hit lip nervously, he again opens discord. He attaches an image, types a message, and hesitates for a long moment before holding his breath as he hits send.

10:54pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- this was todays outfit btw

The photo Tristan sends is a mirror selfie. In it, he's kneeling before the mirror, arching his back and posing just right to show off his body. He wears the layered tutu skirt and a lace up crop top. Around his neck is a leather collar, and his arms and legs are covered in fishnet. The phone is held in front of his face, but behind it there's still a glimpse of thick eye makeup and black lipstick.

Instantly, Jay starts typing. Then stops. Then starts again.

Tristan's heart is beating loudly in his ears. He swears he can't breathe.

10:55pm:

SkaterRat420 -- you look amazing oh my god

SkaterRat420 -- drop dead gorgeous

SkaterRat420 -- fishnet looks so good on you

Tristan releases the breath he was holding, a huge grin splitting his face.

10:55pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- you like? :3c

10:56pm:

SkaterRat420 -- yes. I like a lot xx

Positively high on the validation, Tristan picks out a few more photos to send. Nothing explicit, but definitely extremely risqué; two of different highly sexual poses, and one where he's making bedroom eyes at the camera as he licks a bright pink rubber cock. He captions the images simply with a winking kissy face, and hits send.

This time, Jay stops and starts typing even more times before responding.

10:57pm:

SkaterRat420 -- holy shit

SkaterRat420 -- you're SO fucking hot. fuck.

10:57pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- too much?

10:58pm:

SkaterRat420 -- nah not at all

SkaterRat420 -- as long as you don't mind me drooling over your photos like a total perv

10:58pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- youre not a perv lol

xXfreakonaleashXx -- and i already told you i like it 0///0

10:59pm:

SkaterRat420 -- good. because I can't stop looking at these pictures. seriously, I'm losing my damn mind x

10:59pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- yeah? :))))

10:59pm:

SkaterRat420 -- you like that, don't you? you did this on purpose huh

11:00pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- did what?

11:00pm:

SkaterRat420 -- made me hard x

After almost dropping his phone, Tristan stares at that message, mouth hanging open. His eyes flick towards the wall, the one on the other side of which is Jay's room. All kinds of heat and adrenalin course through him as he types his response.

11:01pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- maybe ;3

11:01pm:

SkaterRat420 -- is it okay if I save the pics?

11:01pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- 100%

xXfreakonaleashXx -- please do

xXfreakonaleashXx -- theyre all yours

xXfreakonaleashXx -- enjoy

11:02pm:

SkaterRat420 -- oh, I will. I'm already enjoying them...

SkaterRat420 -- you like that, right?

11:02pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- yesss!

xXfreakonaleashXx -- so much

Tristan's eyes again move over to that wall. The fact that Jay is on the other side, horny, hard, probably touching himself to pictures of Tristan -- it's completely surreal.

Unable to stop himself from doing so any longer, Tristan switches to using his phone one-handed, slipping the other one under the sheets. He bites his lip and strokes his hard dick through his underwear as he types more messages.

11:03pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- im no tease uknow

xXfreakonaleashXx -- if i could, i would help you out...

11:03pm:

SkaterRat420 -- yeah? fuck, I should have left luke up at his mums lol

11:03pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- fr

xXfreakonaleashXx -- then i could wear fishnets and get on my knees for you UwU

There's lull with no response. Then Jay is typing and stopping for a while. Teeth sinking further into his lip, Tristan groans as he continues to palm himself through his boxers. He's straining against the confines of the thin fabric. Throbbing. It becomes too much, and he pushes his underwear down. Wrapping his fingers around himself, his head is clouded with thoughts of Jay doing the same in the next room.

11:04pm:

SkaterRat420 -- that would be so good

SkaterRat420 -- ... another time maybe?

11:04pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- definitely

xXfreakonaleashXx -- like next time lukes working late?

11:04pm:

SkaterRat420 -- fuck yes

SkaterRat420 -- he won't be back until gone midnight tomorrow night

11:05pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- tomorrow night then :)

11:05pm:

SkaterRat420 -- sweet. I'll be looking forward to it

11:05pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- me too

11:05pm:

SkaterRat420 -- :)

SkaterRat420 -- goodnight, tris x

11:06pm:

xXfreakonaleashXx -- night x

Clicking his phone's screen off and sliding it under his pillow, Tristan is left in the darkness of his bedroom. He lets out a content sigh into the quiet, stroking himself more firmly under the sheets.

Closing his eyes, Tristan pictures what Jay might look like right now, jerking off to those photos. He wonders how he does it -- what faces he makes, whether he moans. Then there's thoughts of how beautiful Jay's cock is: how it tasted, how it felt twitching and throbbing inside his throat... and how Jay moaned his name, how he held his head and pet his hair...

Tristan groans softly and shudders as he cums over his hand. Then he takes off his shirt and uses it to quickly mop up the mess, before curling up and falling asleep.

~

The next morning, Tristan is reaching for his phone before his eyes even open. He needs to make sure he didn't imagine that conversation. And then he needs to re-read it several times over, just to make doubly sure.

As he sits up and pushes his duvet off of him, Tristan can hear movement from the hallway and living room. Checking the time on his phone, he sees that Jay is probably getting ready to leave for work about now.

After briefly considering camping out in his room until Jay's left, Tristan decides that, no, he won't do that. He needs to be normal about this. He said he would be. And anyway, letting stuff affect how he and Jay are around each other day-to-day would risk affecting their friendship. Which is the last thing Tristan wants.

So, he climbs out of bed, pulls on some clothes, and takes a deep, calming breath before leaving his bedroom.

In the living room, Sky Sports is droning quietly from the television. Luke is sprawled across the sofa with a half-empty bowl of cereal on his lap, eyes lazily fixed on the screen. Jay is standing next to the coffee table, wearing his work clothes, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Morning." Jay greets casually.

"Morning." Tristan repeats, blinking groggily in the light as he steps into the room.

Luke raises the spoon in his hand and grunts in acknowledgement of Tristan's presence, eyes still on the television.

Mumbling a half-response to Luke, Tristan makes his way to the kitchen. He tries to just focus on washing out a mug so he can make himself tea, but can't seem to ignore the sound of boots on the carpet and the jingle of keys.

"I'm off, then." Jay says as he walks towards the front door.

Tristan looks up from what he's doing.

Hand on the latch, Jay looks over his shoulder. He locks eyes with Tristan for a brief moment, before quickly turning back to the door. "See you later." He mutters, pulling it open and stepping out without waiting for a response.

As the door clicks shut, Tristan blinks, already over-analysing what that look on Jay's face might have meant. He doesn't regret that conversation last night, does he? He'd seemed pretty on board from the messages. But then, Tristan had also been far more forward than he would have been otherwise; messaging while horny will do that...

Upon realising that he's been cleaning the mug for far too long, Tristan does his best to pull himself from his thoughts and act normal. And after a breakfast of tea and a cigarette whilst making small talk with Luke, he retreats to his bedroom.

He re-reads the discord messages from last night a few more times, cringing and feeling a bit sick over how bold he'd been, as well as getting a rush from just how eager Jay comes off in his responses. It definitely seems that, unless he receives a message from Jay saying otherwise, they've got a solid plan for tonight...

God, just the thought of servicing Jay again is driving him completely insane.

He wants to start getting ready immediately; the couple of hours he needs to wait for Luke to leave for work is torture. By the time he hears Luke leave the flat, he's already pulling out the box of clothes hidden at the back of his wardrobe.

The whole box gets dumped out on the floor. Tristan's never put so much thought into an outfit before in his life. He picks up one skirt, then another. Fingers brushing over the cheap polyester frills and lace, he can only wonder 'which makes me look less like a roommate, and more like an option?'. Then he tries to shake that thought from his head and focus on which would look better with his nicest pair of fishnet stockings.

Once he finally decides, he puts the rest of the clothes away and goes to get a shower. Then he spends a good few hours sitting in front of his mirror in a towel, surrounded by all of his finest knock-off makeup, a youtube tutorial playing on his phone, trying to nail a more dramatic eyeshadow look than he'd usually go for. He needs to wipe it off and start again a good few times before it looks good.

After putting on his outfit, then changing his mind and swapping out the top, Tristan stands in front of the mirror to assess. He looks good. If he was dressed for a cam show or to take photos, he'd be more than pleased with it. But right now, he can't help but to fuss over every tiny detail. He adjusts the straps holding his stockings in place about a hundred times, considers changing back to the other top, and keeps worrying that the makeup still doesn't look feminine enough.

He runs fingers through his hair. It's dark, choppy, and comes down just past his ears. He's kept the same emo fringe since he was fifteen, and, he likes how it looks. But, smoothing it down, his mind flashes with memories of all the girls Jay's dated. Girls with long hair they would twirl around their fingers as they laughed at his stupid jokes.

'Should I maybe grow it out?' He thinks, only to feel pretty pathetic for having the thought. Would he really make such a change just on the off chance of it making him slightly more desirable to a straight guy he's casually messing around with whilst dressed as a girl? Is that worth it?

'If it's Jay? Kind of...' Definitely pathetic. But he's considering it anyway.

The click of the front door unlocking makes Tristan jump, his head snapping towards the noise as he hears the front door open and close, followed by footsteps through the corridor and the click of keys being put down. Fuck. He must have been staring at his reflection longer than he'd intended.

Freezing, holding his breath, Tristan waits. He's not sure what for exactly. Would Jay come knock his door? Does Jay even remember that conversation? Oh god, what if he didn't take their little arrangement seriously at all? Or what if he changed his mind??

When the quiet just stretches on and on, Tristan forces himself to move, stepping over to his door. Feeling incredibly vulnerable doing so dressed the way he is, his hand trembles as he grips the handle and moves it slowly down with a quiet click that rings loudly through the silence of the flat. He pushes the door open only a crack, just enough to be heard properly.

"Jay?" he calls, tentatively, the name catching slightly in his dry throat. "That you?"

"Yeah," Jay responds from somewhere in the living room, his voice an uncharacteristic, rasped murmur, confirming to Tristan that he at least remembers their conversation last night. "Hey."

A heavy silence. Tristan mentally scrambles to find the words.

"Do you," he tries to sound as casual as possible, "still want to hang out?"

Footsteps.

"Yes. I mean- If you're still down; yeah. Definitely."

Tristan nudges the door, letting it swing open slowly. "Cool..." He bites his lip and fidgets nervously with his hands, heat flushing his face. He refuses to be awkward enough to stare at the ground, but the best he can do is look off to the side.

Then, nothing. Jay doesn't say a word, and the silence is deafening. Tristan's eyes remain firmly on the wall, biting his lip so hard it hurts, panic that he's made a humiliating mistake rising with every millisecond of quiet.

Eventually, the silence breaks to the sound of Jay swallowing hard. "You look amazing, Tris." he mumbles, quietly, voice hoarse.

Clearing his throat, Tristan shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He's still extremely unsure of himself, but then he finally looks at Jay, and smiles slightly. Jay's face says it all; he meant the compliment, and he's still very much into this.

Tristan looks away again. Relaxing somewhat, he moves to the side, leaning casually against his door. "Wanna come in here?" He motions into the room. He moves back even more to let Jay past, but their clothes still brush against each other as he enters, and Tristan briefly feels the heat radiating from him. He gulps.

After closing his door behind them, Tristan pads over to the laptop sitting on his dresser. He taps at it, and music starts playing. Not too loud, just enough to be some background noise. One of the playlists he uses for streams; he figures it might get him in the right headspace and calm his nerves.

When he turns around, Tristan finds Jay standing in the middle of the room, looking like he doesn't know what to do with himself. Like he's in a stranger's bedroom, and not his roommate and best friend's, whom he hangs out with comfortably in here regularly. Tristan finds himself actually put at ease by Jay's clear nervousness, since it makes him feel better about his own.

"You gonna sit down?" he asks with a small smile and a nod towards his bed.

Cheeks turning pink, Jay quickly sits down on the edge of Tristan's bed.

Tristan's smile widens. He steps closer. "I'm not sure whether sober me has the nerve to dance for you," he explains, kind of thinking out loud as he comes to a stop a metre or so in front of Jay.

"That's okay," Jay reassures earnestly with a slight shake of his head, "I don't want anything you won't enjoy."

Tristan steps closer. "You're sweet, Jay." He offers his hand, and when it's taken, he guides Jay's to his upper thigh, where he'd seemed to like groping last time. Not breaking eye contact, they both blush as Jay squeezes lightly at the soft flesh just under Tristan's skirt.

Placing his other hand on Tristan's hip, Jay gently pulls him even closer, until he's as close as he can get. "Pictures don't do you justice, you know," he says, still just looking up into Tristan's eyes as he squeezes at him more boldly. "You're the prettiest- Uhm-" He blinks. "Do you want me to call you a girl? I'm still not sure how this" -- his eyes travel briefly over Tristan's body and outfit before again meeting his gaze -- "works."

"You can call me a girl if you want." Despite smiling and nodding, something inside Tristan's chest sinks painfully at his own words.

Jay stops groping. Brow furrowing, he stares up at Tristan with a familiar, well-meaning expression he often wears when he's trying to understand something. "That's not what I asked, Tris." His hands remain where they are, but just hold now, firm and gentle and grounding. "I just-" His eyes flick away for a moment before returning. "I don't understand all this stuff. If you want to be seen as a girl, I'll do that. I'm just trying to ask if that's what this is. If it's not, I don't need it to be. I'm-" The flush on his face deepens to a darker red colour. "I'm into it either way. Just tell me what you want."

The fake smile on Tristan's face melts into a genuine one of immense fondness. "You really are so fucking sweet..." he murmurs quietly, looking down at his friend. Jay's too damn nice for his own good sometimes.

Grip tightening just a fraction, Jay looks down. "I'm not being sweet, I'm just..." His thumb starts tracing slow little circles over the skin of Tristan's hip. "I was looking online. At forums and stuff. Because I didn't want to assume anything, or say the wrong thing."

A strange, violent jolt strikes through Tristan's heart. 'He's been looking into this??'

"And," Jay continues, gaze lifting back to Tristan's, still with that charmingly sincere expression of his. "I read about a lot of things: Terms, identities, boundaries..." His voice wavers as he says that last word, almost mixing with a tinge of guilt as his hand trails down Tristan's thigh and strokes over the soft mesh of his stockings. "But I still wasn't sure what exactly this is to you, or what you do or don't want, you know?"

Swallowing hard, his eyes again leave Tristan's, dropping to follow the path of his own hand moving slowly over fishnet. "And honestly, right now, I can't even remember all the stuff I read about..." He lets out a small, fractured breath, appearing beyond flustered as he peers back up at Tristan through his eyelashes. "But you're really, really pretty. And I really, really like touching you..."

A soft, breathy sound hums from the back of Tristan's throat, and he smiles again. He kind of wants to ask Jay about what kind of forums he's been on exactly, but he's also struggling to think about much else aside from the hands on him. And anyway, there's something he wants to do way more right now than discuss the intricacies of gender expression.

"Then," Tristan speaks, softly, repositioning a leg slightly so as to invite more of Jay's touch -- an invitation that is quickly accepted, "don't overthink it, I guess..." He reaches out and places a hand on Jay's shoulder, who then raises his head to look at him properly, and returns the smile Tristan's giving him.

Then, keeping his eyes locked on Jay's, Tristan slowly sinks to his knees. And from down on the ground, Jay's gaze feels so much more intense; there's nothing familiar about the way his best friend is looking at him now -- his eyes are dark and locked on Tristan with a fierce, undeniable hunger.

Finally pulling his eyes away, Tristan instead focuses his attention at what he's doing as he leans forwards and reaches for Jay's belt, entirely intent on giving him exactly what he wants.

But as Tristan's hands touch the buckle, Jay's are placed over them.

"Wait,"

Petrified that he's done something wrong, Tristan quickly looks back up to Jay.

"It's completely fine if you say no, but," Jay hesitates, sounding and looking extremely nervous. And suddenly Tristan's fear turns to giddy anticipation of just what could be about to be asked of him.

"... can I kiss you?"

Dumbstruck, Tristan just blinks up at Jay for a moment, in complete awe of the question. Then he's nodding, the motion somewhat frantic as he pushes himself up to be eye-level with Jay.

Jay doesn't hesitate. He reaches out, cups Tristan's jaw, leans close, and pulls him into a kiss.

It's incredibly gentle. Jay's lips are soft and warm pressed against Tristan's, tentative at first, before the hand cradling his jaw is delicately tilting his face to find a closer angle. The sheer sweetness is at complete odds with what Tristan had just been trying to do, why he's on his knees right now, but he's too busy melting into the tender intimacy to really register that. Hands resting on Jay's thighs for balance, he happily loses himself in the dizzyingly surreal reality of being kissed by the boy he's been obsessed with since they were kids.

When their lips part, they share a shallow breath. Jay lingers close for a moment, before pulling back, just enough to look at the face he still holds in his hand. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, moving from Tristan's slightly parted lips up over his flushed face until they're staring into his.

And the look in those eyes -- an intensely raw, heavy desire, tinged with a thin layer of shock and maybe even confusion, as if Jay is completely overwhelmed by how badly he wants this right now.

Which is good. Because Tristan can't physically fight the pull to lean closer. And, the very second he does so, Jay does the same, meeting him half way and press their mouths back together.

The gentleness isn't completely gone, but the sweet tenderness falls away to something far more messy. Lost in the wave of chaotic urges to just be closer, Tristan's hands scramble to hold any part of Jay they can, balling in the fabric of his shirt. Jay grabs at his arm, pulling him up off of the floor and guiding clumsy movements until he's got Tristan straddling him.

Lips parting against Tristan's, Jay's hand moves from his jaw around to the back of his neck, anchoring him there as his tongue slips into his mouth. His other hand finds its way back to the thigh he seems to like so much, grabbing at it and pulling Tristan more securely into his lap.

Arms wrapping around Jay's neck, Tristan clings to him like a lifeline, completely losing himself in the overwhelming heat of the embrace, the taste of Jay's mouth, and the ever-strengthening grip of the hands holding him. The faintest hint of a whine escapes his throat as he notices the press of Jay's erection under him, and he can't help but shift his hips in a tentative little grind against it.

In response, Jay groans into his mouth, the hand that's squeezing him right at the border between thigh and ass moving up to his hip to pull him down firmly into his crotch.

Outright moaning into the kiss, Tristan rocks his hips; the friction of the smooth satin his own hard cock is confined tightly inside of sliding over the rough denim of Jay's fly is too good to be able to stop himself. And whatever concerns he briefly has about said hard cock being a put-off for Jay are quickly quelled when the hand on his hip digs its fingers into flesh pulls down, encouraging more.

Things quickly devolve into shameless dry-humping, little groans being muffled between them as they grind on each other.

One hand on Tristan's hip and the other now on his waist, Jay is guiding both of their movements, pulling and pushing Tristan against himself in an increasingly sloppy rhythm. Breaking the kiss, he presses his face into the crook of Tristan's neck, huffing a rough, breathless moan against his skin.

"Shit-" Jay mutters, low and broken amongst panting. "Tris," He moves his hand down from Tristan's hip to slide it under his skirt. His fingers hook under the waistband of the satin panties, pulling at them with a soft grunt of slight frustration. It's a wordless request that makes his intention clear; he wants them off.

'Oh my god. Oh my god, he wants to fuck me.'

The thought is almost enough to make Tristan cum right there and then. Driven by a frantic need to get the obstacle out of the way as fast as physically possible, he scrambles off of Jay and rips the underwear off as fast as he can. His heart hammers violently in his chest as he shoves them down his legs, expecting Jay to then undo his own jeans and push him down onto the bed.

But Jay doesn't move for his belt. Nor does he attempt to move Tristan into a position to be taken.

Instead, before Tristan has even kicked the satin panties completely off of both ankles, Jay's hands are framing his hips, firm yet gentle as he guides Tristan right back over his lap, one of those hands then immediately moving up to cup the side of his face and pull him into another kiss.

Less urgent now, Jay's hand remains on Tristan's face, thumb brushing a slow line over his cheekbone as they connect in a heavy, deeply consuming kiss.

Warm touch is trailed up Tristan's leg and under his skirt, softly groping at his upper thigh before-

"Mnghn!"

Tristan whines a surprised sound of pleasure as fingers touch his aching, leaking cock. And Jay swallows the sound, along with all of the ones that follow as he wraps his hand around Tristan and starts gently stroking him.

Jay's hand moves slowly, warm and soft around Tristan's dick as he caresses it up and down. Then the movement stops, Jay simply holding him, gripping a bit more firmly around him in a light squeeze as Tristan twitches in his fist, before he strokes slowly up and swipes his thumb over his slit. And when Tristan moans, he does it again. After playing with Tristan's slit for a while, he smears the fluid leaking from it down over the sensitive underside of his head and rubs at that. Then he resumes massaging slowly up and down his length, everything now much slicker with the precum that continues to drool over his hand.

Forced to break the kiss, Tristan instead leans his forehead on Jay's shoulder, a stream of whimpers and moans spilling from his mouth. Lust and pleasure now driving his every thought, he is desperate to reciprocate. And after fumbling with a belt buckle, zipper, and underwear to release Jay's cock, he's rewarded with a low, beautifully sexy groan right against his ear the second his trembling fingers wrap around the hard length. Answering with a small, sighed moan, he mirrors the light pressure and steady pace of the hand around his own.

Tristan can't believe how intensely intimate this is; throbbing in each other's hands, stroking each other, pleasuring each other as their soft gasps and groans fill the air around them. It's like nothing in the world matters other than the sensations they're giving one another -- absolutely everything in existence falls away save for the heat between them and the friction of where their bodies touch.

As this continues, composure and restraint disintegrate, leaving only that friction and ever-rising heat. Face pressed into Jay's shirt, Tristan's breath comes out in ragged little whimpers. With a low, wrecked sound of his own, Jay grabs Tristan by the jaw and pulls his head back up to crash their lips together again in a hungry, desperate kiss.

The pace quickly starts to spiral. Both moaning, their movements become faster, hands gliding smoothly over skin, slicked by the copious amounts of precum they're both leaking. As they rock their hips and buck up into the pleasure, their free hands cling to whatever clothing or skin they can.

All rhythm is forgotten in a frantic blur of rutting and grinding as they both hurtle towards the brink.

With a sobbed whine into the sloppy kiss, Tristan is the first to crash, his body tensing and his hips stuttering as he spills over Jay's hand. The fluid also splatters over his own hand, which makes a warm, slippery mess of Jay's cock as he tightens his grip around it.

Jay isn't far behind. Their mouths part, and Jay immediately presses his face into Tristan's neck to moan through his own orgasm, cock pulsing strongly in Tristan's hand as he releases.

Though slowly now, neither stops moving their hand until they're both entirely spent. Cum coats their hands and dicks, soaks into Jay's jeans and shirt, and drips down Tristan's thighs.

Panting, they each lean their head against the other's shoulder as they slowly come back down to earth. Tristan's body is completely limp on top of Jay, who drapes his arms weakly around his waist as their heavy breathing slowly starts to even out.

Face buried in the crook of Jay's neck, Tristan's eyes remain peacefully closed. He's in heaven, wishing deeply that time would stop moving and he could live in this embrace forever, but at the same time, just bathing in the sheer perfectness of the moment while it lasts.

"Fuck," Jay huffs a slight, breathless laugh. "That was so good, dude."

"Yeah?" Tristan turns his head slightly towards Jay's ear, but otherwise doesn't move. He wonders how long he can stay in Jay's arms like this before he's pushing it.

"Mhm." Jay nods. The hand that isn't covered in cum strokes absently at Tristan's skin. "For you too?"

"Mn." Tristan gives a small nod.

Jay chuckles softly. "You've gone all floppy."

Letting out a soft hum, Tristan reluctantly acknowledges that this spell needs to break eventually. The sticky, quickly cooling mess between them is starting to become a reminder of reality.

Despite really not wanting to, he shifts his heavy body and climbs off of Jay. "Shit, sorry." He mumbles, face burning as he looks down at the mess all over Jay's shirt and jeans.

"It's mine too." Jay wipes his hand off on his shirt. "And you're just as covered."

"Mn..." Tristan crawls further onto his bed and flops down onto his back. Dazed, the aftershock of an intense orgasm still buzzing through his body, he stares up at the ceiling with a content little sigh as his mind fully processes the amazing reality of what just transpired.

When Tristan looks back over, Jay's taking off his shirt. Which, given what they just did, probably shouldn't make Tristan flustered like they're back in the high school changing rooms, but it does anyway.

"Here." Jay tosses his shirt to Tristan, who sits up and uses it to wipe the fluids from his skin.

Jay stands and starts to do his jeans back up. "So," he starts, casually, looking down at what he's doing, "you never actually answered me."

After discarding the soiled shirt to the floor, Tristan turns to him. "Hm?"

"About whether you want to be seen as a girl when you're dressed like this." After buckling his belt, Jay looks over to Tristan.

"Uh-" Tristan blinks. Mind still hazed, it takes him a moment to get past the ridiculously hot image of Jay topless with cum stains on his jeans. "Oh. Uh. No," He shakes his head. "No, it's not like that."

Without looking away from Tristan, Jay sits back down on the bed. "So just, like, a femboy then?" The expression on Jay's face is so earnest -- like he's genuinely interested, and not even just because he thinks it's hot; it's the same way he looks when he asks about Tristan's art.

Tristan can't help the smile that spreads across his face. "Yeah."

"Hm," Jay nods thoughtfully. "That's really cool."

Neither says anything then. It's a bit awkward, but at the same time, kind of not? Or, not nearly as much as it could be, anyway, given the circumstances.

After a moment, Jay clears his throat. "This was really fun, Tris." He looks down. "I should... probably go change clothes." He mumbles, observing the stains down the front of his jeans.

"Yeah. Um." Tristan blinks down at his own clothing. "Me too." He's definitely disappointed to not spend more time with Jay right now. But, they do both need to change before Luke gets home. And, Jay would probably rather not stick around in the awkwardness after everything just now...

Jay stands, but doesn't go right for the door, instead just lingering. He only speaks when Tristan lifts his head to look at him.

"Do you, uh- Wanna watch a movie or something in the living room?"

As casually as possible, suppressing the grin that wants to form on his face, Tristan responds with a simple "Yeah, okay."

Jay smiles before turning to head for the door. "Kay. Meet you in there in a bit."