FicWad

Written for Dragonbeak's request in the Dragon Knights Fic Exchange on LJ for Ruwalk/Alfeegi crossdressing.

All in all, it had gone off rather well.

The annals were going to tell that Lykouleon was the one who had come up with the idea, but watching him pour Raseleane a glass of champagne as she lounged gracefully in her tuxedo, the perfect impression of an indolent young dandy, Ruwalk had other suspicions. Only a woman strangled daily by her own clothing could have come up with something like a Castle Cross-Dressing Competition.

Luckily, he'd been saved from some of the more particular tortures, although the stilettos were killing his feet and it still felt like he was going to trip over his dress anytime now. Wearing such a full skirt completely altered his sense of spatiality. Not only did he take up more room, but he occupied it differently: he had to be more careful about what he brushed up against after having had one near-accident with a vase already. It forced him to change the way he made even small movements, with so much fabric swirling around his ankles, and to show the dress off to its best advantage he had to stand rigidly straight, like his head was on a string, and while Tetheus might be able to maintain that ramrod military posture all day, his back was starting to hurt.

Aches and pains aside, he was ready for some dancing. A few people had already changed, and that took some of the fun out of it --he spotted Nadil in his usual leather get-up, but Nadil had been a scary woman so perhaps it was a good thing he had changed; he had no need to see the man in fishnets ever again-- but the party was in full swing, there were plenty of others around and he wanted to give his dress a whirl. It was nipped in tight at the waist, but thanks to all those early morning training sessions with Alfeegi it fit perfectly, and the full, tiered skirt, helped along by a ruffled petticoat, could have been ripped straight out of any fashion plate of a ball just like this one.

One of those others was the source of quite the little crowd of betrousered women and looking extremely uncomfortable about it: Alfeegi.

"Ruwalk! Thank god you're here," Alfeegi said, looking harassed. "I need to speak to you about something."

"I'm all ears," he said agreeably, and let Alfeegi draw him away from the women, all of them talking a mile a minute, to a safer, quieter corner of the room. "What's happening?"

"I just needed to get away from them." Alfeegi made a face. "They keep asking me how I did my make-up."

"And?" Ruwalk prompted, curiosity piqued.

Ask anyone who their bets were for the contest --and the betting pool had been very lively in the weeks leading up to the competition-- and Alfeegi's name probably wouldn't have come up, and yet he was the one with the ribbon pinned to his dress. The temptation to ask how was overwhelming - Ruwalk had put a lot of thought into his costume as well, and it wasn't bragging to say he made an attractive woman (and so far more than one person who'd had a little too much to drink had told him that), but Alfeegi was, wow, and there were no words for how unexpected that was.

"I'm not telling," Alfeegi muttered, darkening visibly beneath the powder, almost the same colour as that heartstopping red dress.

"Aw, come on," Ruwalk wheedled. "Just so I have a chance next time?" One hundred gold was nothing to scoff at, even for them, and okay, yes, he just wanted to know what Alfeegi's secret was for the sake of it, because he made an insanely attractive woman and that was incredibly, incredibly wrong.

He'd learned very early on in the piece that remarks about Alfeegi's height would not be tolerated. He wasn't short, not really, but he was definitely the smallest of the Dragon Officers, and a little touchy --okay, a lot touchy, it was Alfeegi, after all-- about it. There were a lot of abnormally tall women wandering around tonigh - take Tetheus, for example. Tetheus didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of passing, he was just too gigantic, but in a dress Alfeegi was actually convincingly petite, for all that he'd hang, draw and quarter anyone who dared say so in his presence. All that fabric enveloping him made him look smaller, just right for fitting underneath your arm for a dance, or an embrace.

He had to be wearing a corset. There was no way his waist could look so tiny otherwise. It was still a long way from an hourglass, but he almost looked curvy, tempting to put your hands around his waist and see if you could span it. The width of his skirts exaggerated the slimness of his waist, and the fake, to be sure, but still slightly rounded swell of his bosom, exposed by the low, dipping neckline. It was for a contest, sure, and Alfeegi liked to do everything he did well, but it was still an awful amount of flesh on display for someone who usually covered himself up so completely.

"What's the secret?" he said winsomely. Maybe he could find out if he was. If so, then Alfeegi had really gone at this one hundred and ten percent. "Promise I won't tell. Really."

Alfeegi looked uncomfortable, and took a quick survey around them.

"Cernozurahelpedme," he said quickly, with a flush of embarrassment, and started to walk away, as fast as one could with that many skirts. He caught a glimpse of sky-scraping scarlet heels peeking out from underneath a satin-edged petticoat.

"Yeah?" he said, intrigued. You couldn't pay him to subject himself to Cernozura's tender ministrations; the way she and Raseleane dressed up any hapless girl that came their way like a life-size doll was bad enough. He couldn't imagine what they'd do (because if Cernozura was involved, then Raseleane had to be, they were a tag-team of sweet, evil feminine trickery) with someone like Alfeegi at their mercy. "How far?"

"I don't know what you mean by that," Alfeegi said, still spitting his words out like they were coming off the assembly line.

"Well," he said, tugging at one of the many bows that decorated that massive, hooping skirt (there had to be a crinoline under there, you couldn't get that effect with just petticoats), "I must admit I'm dying to know what you let them do to you."

"That's none of your business!" Alfeegi snapped, but he was blushing; oh, he'd let them do something to him all right, something really embarrassing, by the sounds of it.

Maybe it was a character flaw --Alfeegi would definitely label it a character flaw-- but Alfeegi with a secret he was so obviously trying to hide was only an invitation to try and find out.

"Perhaps I'll go find Cernozura," he said casually, just to watch Alfeegi blanch and clench his hands in his skirt. "Maybe she'll give me some tips for next time around."

"She won't tell you a thing, so don't even try," Alfeegi warned and stomped off, heels clicking sternly against the tile. He had sounded absolutely certain about that; the kind of certain that meant a bargain of some variety had been struck.

He went to find Cernozura.

The ballroom was full of people in varying stages of inebriation. Something about shedding their usual clothes had loosened inhibitions as well. He thought of himself as pretty easygoing but it was different tonight, like putting on a whole new self as well as a different dress. Women he knew to be shy and quiet were talking and laughing openly with dragon fighters in silk and lace, who played clumsily with fans and tripped over their trailing skirts. From the stage, Lykouleon and Raseleane watched it all with benevolent amusement, and he couldn't have been imagining the self-satisfied look on Raseleane's face. Lykouleon had changed, moreso the pity, but he was the master of ceremonies after all, and Alfeegi had nearly had a fit at the very, very inappropriate idea (his words) of a sovereign participating in such an act. Not that it had stopped Alfeegi from participating in the same act himself.

Cernozura was in close conversation with one of the high-ranking noblewomen as he approached, but they broke apart at his arrival. Gossip, most likely. Cernozura's eyes shone. She hadn't invented it, but the competition had must have been a dream come true for her, given her predilection for dispensing fashion advice. Alfeegi couldn't have been the only one who had gone to her.

He wondered idly how much she charged, or what Alfeegi had offered in return for her secrecy.

"You look lovely, Cernozura," he said, inclining his head. He wasn't into the act enough to curtsey. "What are your thoughts on all this?"

"I saw you speaking to Alfeegi earlier, Ruwalk," she said with a sweet smile and he ground his teeth. The woman was made out of granite when she wanted to be. "As I'm sure he's told you, there's nothing to discuss."

"Did you help him?" he asked, and took a flute of champagne from a passing maid for her. Maybe if he buttered her up enough she'd let something slip.

"Perhaps," she allowed, but said nothing more.

"He looks great," he tried.

"It turned out much better than I expected," she agreed. "He was a little reluctant at first, but once he relaxed enough to follow my advice, I was surprised at how easy he was to dress. Red is really his colour, don't you think?" Her eyes were sparkling; she was getting into it now. Ruwalk nodded encouragingly. "Luckily he fit into some of the things I already had, although of course I had to special-order the—" and she stopped suddenly.

"The what?" he prompted. No way she could stop there, when she'd just hinted at something really juicy.

Cernozura gave him a look that suggested he would be polishing his own floors if he persisted. "That's all you will be getting out of me, Ruwalk."

"Oh, come on, surely you can--" he wheedled, and then he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Ruwalk? What's the matter?" Cernozura said, but he couldn't even hear her over the sound of his jaw dropping to the ground.

There was no mistaking that hair. Everyone in the room knew damn well who Alfeegi was and that he wouldn't let anyone push him around even if he was wearing a dress, and that included Nadil.

And yet he had Alfeegi backed up against the wall like he was about to eat him. He could see Alfeegi's mouth moving, no doubt telling Nadil exactly where he could get off, and then Nadil pinned him to the wall and kissed him. If you could describe it as kissing. He was pretty sure it was illegal to do that in public.

It was gut-twistingly hot for a moment. Oh, it shouldn't have been but it was, Nadil's hand curving around Alfeegi's jaw as the other went for the pins in his hair, freeing carefully-manufactured curls to flow over his shoulders, and holding him there as Alfeegi thrashed but was unable to throw him off, struggling like a butterfly on a pin, and then he was striding towards them, without any real idea of what he was actually doing but just knowing that that was not okay.

"Don't. Touch. Him," he ground out through clenched teeth, and Nadil looked up at him, dark eyes flashing, a big cat distracted from its prey.

"Why not?" he said lazily, all-day-in-bed lazy. "Do you have some kind of prior claim?" A sweeping gesture encompassed Alfeegi in all his frills and bows; the other was running possessively through his hair. It had just been a kiss, but Alfeegi looked ravished: hair disheveled and pins scattered all over the floor and his lipstick smudged, mouth red and glossy and begging to be kissed again.

It was so screwed --he was so screwed-- but looking at Alfeegi, he kinda understood what was driving Nadil, that hot, possessive feeling low in his belly.

"Actually, yeah, I do," he said, and Nadil's eyes weren't the only ones that widened. Alfeegi's eyes were saucer-like, and then they were narrow slits.

"Ruwalk..."

"We're leaving," he said, yanking on Alfeegi's wrist, and Nadil's face turned nasty for a moment, and then he stepped away with a little bow.

"Be my guest," he said graciously, and disappeared back towards the festivities, the sway of hips in leather ostentatious as he sneaked a peek over his shoulder, smirking like he knew a secret.

Ruwalk really could care less where Nadil went, as long it was away from Alfeegi, who was teetering on his heels with his skirts gathered cautiously around him, fishing around on the floor for his pins.

"Never mind them, we'll get them later," he said impatiently; didn't Alfeegi see they had to get going? "I'll buy you more pins if you want, but we have to leave now."

"What is going on, Ruwalk?" he demanded, and then nearly stumbled as Ruwalk started dragging him towards the nearest staircase.

"Don't even ask, I'll explain later," he said desperately through the thrumming in his entire body; couldn't Alfeegi just shut his—gorgeous, tempting- mouth for once in his life and go along with him?

"This is really highly improper, even for you," Alfeegi said, the note of complaint not even subtle anymore, and Ruwalk gave up on the entire notion that he was going to make it upstairs without doing anything stupid and backed him into the stairwell where they were at least vaguely out of the view of the people in the ballroom and kissed him; his mouth felt the way it looked, soft and plush and sweet with something slick that tasted of berries.

Alfeegi was spluttering madly for air when he pulled away, wiping lipstick from his mouth. "What is with you? What is with all of you? Have you all gone mad and I was simply just not informed?" He dragged his gloves off and produced a compact seemingly out of nowhere to check his make-up.

Maybe he had gone mad, there was really no other explanation for it; perhaps something in the drink would explain Nadil's odd reaction... but watching the little crease between Alfeegi's eyebrows as he frowned into the mirror, the same one that appeared whenever he was doing complicated equations, or coming up with a really good lecture... if he was really honest with himself, he'd wanted that for a long, long time.

"I can't help it, you're so..." he trailed off hopelessly.

"I suggest you finish that sentence very quickly," Alfeegi said archly, raising one elegant eyebrow.

"So... everything!" he said with a helpless gesture at him, meaning Alfeegi, the dress, the night, everything; and maybe he just was crazy in the end, when Alfeegi was dissecting him with his eyes and all he could think of was pushing him up against the wall and kissing him again, the exact same thing that had gotten Nadil into so much trouble.

"Articulate as ever, I see," Alfeegi said, and snapped his compact shut again, stowing it away in the same secret place it had come from. "I should have known not to expect otherwise."

"When you're done maligning me..." Alfeegi was already walking away. He couldn't take very large steps in that combination of heels and skirts, so Ruwalk caught up easily.

"Well, since you're more than capable of slapping me when you're annoyed, can I assume you're not?" he tried. It probably wasn't the right thing to say --Alfeegi very well might slap him- but the view was rather distracting: Alfeegi never wore heels that high, and there was no disguising what it did for his legs and his ass, the cant of his hips magnetic. The urge to reach out and touch made his hands twitch although he'd already gotten himself into enough trouble, and he stowed them safely away in his pockets.

"I assure you, I'm annoyed," Alfeegi said as they approached the stairs. "Help me," he directed, lifting his skirts just slightly to reveal a flash of a bright red petticoat and stockinged ankle. "I can't get up these stairs by myself in these heels."

"Didn't your mother teach you not to wear shoes you couldn't walk in?" He took Alfeegi's arm, feeling rather surreal about the entire situation. It was nothing like escorting a woman: despite the decorated sleeve, he could feel firm, subtle musculature underneath all those layers of fabric instead of soft plumpness, and no woman had ever given him the sense that they would push him down the stairs if he annoyed them too much.

"And you're only exacerbating the situation," he continued, but Ruwalk barely heard the words. Up close, he smelled of cinnamon and sandalwood, something sweet and spicy and utterly compelling, on his skin and in his hair, tumbling freely over his shoulders now. The pale, creamy skin exposed by his dress glittered.

"That's me." They rounded a corner. "Um, this is not the way to your quarters, you know."

"Very intelligent of you. Hurry up and unlock the door, I want to take my shoes off."

"Oh, sorry." Why was he always the one apologizing around Alfeegi? He didn't even know what was going on. He fished around in his handbag --he really missed having pockets-- for his keys while Alfeegi waited impatiently for him to open the door. It took him three tries to actually get it open, so painfully aware of the scent of Alfeegi so close to him and the taste of that mouth still on his lips.

"I see you're as incompetent as ever, Ruwalk," Alfeegi said, and breezed in before him.

He should have said something or cracked a joke at least, and not let Alfeegi run roughshod over him however he liked otherwise there went any leverage Ruwalk ever might have over him, but it died on his lips as Alfeegi struck a match and lit the candles on the nightstand. Alfeegi making himself so comfortable in Ruwalk's quarters was one thing, but it was just so cliché: the candelight, the beautiful dresses, the perfume, like something out of a romance, except Alfeegi wasn't a woman and neither was he. Ruwalk heeled off his shoes and kicked them under the chair, feeling a little more like himself again. It was a relief to actually be able to move his toes.

"I have to know," Alfeegi said with just the slightest waver of uncertainty, eyes searching him out, cutting through the flickering darkness like a knife. "If it's just the dress, I'm going to leave. Don't forget I'm not a woman."

Alfeegi leaving would be a bad thing, a very, very bad thing, and he sneaked in closer to make sure he couldn't, catching a handful of that beautiful, crazy dress. It was satin and rustled in his hand, soft sound incredibly loud in the quiet; he could feel the shape of Alfeegi's thigh beneath it, strong and lean. "I like you... like this," he said, clearing his throat and tugging at the material; there was no give it in, like he'd pull it right off him if he yanked hard enough and what a thought that was. God, he liked him like this; it was almost embarrassing how much. "But it's not just the dress. It's you."

"Good," Alfeegi said with a note of satisfaction that made him tremble, still unsteady on his feet as he was and his balance distorted, and closed the space between them with a few tiny steps, the crisis of confidence over. "Help me undress. I can't get out of this thing by myself."

And it shouldn't have turned him on that Alfeegi was so nonchalant about it when his own hands were shaking as he unlaced the back of Alfeegi's dress, Alfeegi instructing him to carefully lay it over the back of the chair so it didn't crease, didn't he know that thing had cost him the earth? He'd helped many women undress in the past, but none of them had ever spoken to him like that; none of them had been Alfeegi. The dress wasn't the end of it, there were more layers to be removed, and Ruwalk felt almost embarrassed: under his dress he was wearing his smallclothes as always, maybe a little more tight-fitting than usual so they didn't show, but Alfeegi had really gone all out.

"I knew you were wearing one of these," he said, stroking at the stays; it was even embroidered with tiny rosebuds. He ran his hands down the curves of his hips that it created; Alfeegi shivered beneath his touch, so at least he wasn't the only one bizarrely turned on by this situation. Alfeegi had always seemed to enjoy having him at sea, but if they were there together it wasn't so bad.

"Cernozura was quite insistent," Alfeegi said, with the decency to sound embarrassed.

"Yeah? Tell me, what's she got over you?" Alfeegi was conspicuously silent, so he loosened the lacing enough that Alfeegi sighed.

"It's nice to be able to breathe again," he remarked, and raised his arms so Ruwalk could slip it off him entirely. "I don't know how women put up with that every day."

"They're used to it, I guess." The corset had creased his chemise; there were going to be matching marks on his skin, if he ever got that far. He was just wearing that many layers, like playing pass the parcel when you were a kid, anticipating the removal of every sheet, hoping like you'd be the one to get the prize—well, he had the prize right here, ripe for unwrapping.

The red petticoat came away. Alfeegi was usually such a conservative dresser, covered from neck to ankle except when they were training; he never would have picked him for the type who liked such blatantly erotic lingerie. He was going to wonder about his smallclothes from now on. "Jesus, how many petticoats did you want to wear?"

"There's only four. But one of them is quite large," Alfeegi said thoughtfully, and yeah it was, he undid the laces holding it up and the thing was reinforced with steel at the bottom. No wonder his skirt had been so wide.

"How did you sit down in that thing?" he asked in awe. It was so stiff and reinforced it almost stood up by itself.

"Carefully. You might have noticed I was irritated during the ceremony."

"And here I was thinking that was just your usual charming expression," he cracked, and one pointed heel ground warningly into his foot. "Ow, okay, I get it; don't make fun of Alfeegi while he's getting undressed."

"Or ever, preferably," Alfeegi murmured, and the other petticoats came away, leaving him clad only in his chemise and stockings, and those heels; hell, Alfeegi could probably kill him with them.

"This is nice," he mentioned, running a finger along stocking-clad leg, his blood pressure ratcheting up another notch when he followed the line of his thigh under the chemise and discovered the garter, and that tantalizing patch of bare skin. "Oh, god. You shaved," the knowledge coming like a kick to the gut, going straight to his cock, and he couldn't resist rubbing and touching, the contrast so different from what he was used to with a man, the pale satin-skin against the silky stuff of his chemise. He couldn't get enough of it, until he was struck with another thought. "Wait. How far did you go?"

Alfeegi changed the subject by unclipping his garter himself and rolling his stockings down --although he'd seen it so many times, it took on an unexpected contour when it was Alfeegi doing it; stern, practical Alfeegi participating in an exercise in decadency-- but he was blushing scarlet.

"You didn't," and Alfeegi straightened, and met his eyes with a smirk, the good old Alfeegi smirk that said he knew things and Ruwalk was going to have to work to get them out of him.

"You'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you," he said smugly, and his heart honestly stopped for a moment. When it started again, Alfeegi was pushing him down on the bed, and he sat down heavily on the edge, just as easily as being knocked down with a feather.

"You wouldn't have," he said breathlessly, as Alfeegi rested on his leg on the bed to unbuckle his shoes and slide off his stockings, his chemise clinging like a second skin at every movement, and if the corset had created the rest of the curves, then that ass was alll his. He'd been padding that dress out just fine on his own, and he couldn't resist reaching out and trailing one finger over the ripe curve, cheering inwardly when Alfeegi suddenly became distracted with his task.

"Don't grope me," he ordered, almost throwing his shoes away, and if Alfeegi was following less than 100% procedure for the proper care of things, then he had to be pretty far gone. "If you make me ruin my slip, I will kill you."

It took a moment to process that statement, and when it finally permeated it took another moment before he could get words out. "Come here. Now."

"I'll crease your dress," Alfeegi protested, and Ruwalk gritted his teeth and yanked so that they fell together on the bed.

"I really don't care about that at the moment, Alfeegi," he said and slid his hand under his slip.

"Oh-- Alfeegi's head fell back onto the pillow, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat. "Ruwalk..."

"Jesus>," he said helplessly when he came to the final barrier between them, the tiniest scrap of silk and lace. "God, Alfeegi..."

"What?" Alfeegi demanded, and it really wasn't fair that he was going out of his mind over here, and Alfeegi could still make the please-explain face at him.

"You're incredible," he finished, and rubbed experimentally; Alfeegi's eyes, brightened to a soft burnished gold by desire, turned unfocused and he made a soft little noise that was almost pained. "Is it okay like this?"

He was half-expecting some lecture on how expensive silk underwear was these days, but Alfeegi just parted his legs in invitation and he decided he could really care less when Alfeegi was that hard and asking for it, and he used one hand to push his thighs further apart while the other stroked, getting a feel for him. The fabric was damp and his pulse went into overdrive: Alfeegi could have been hard all that time and he wouldn't have been able to tell through the layers of material. Just the thought of it made him breathless, and he rubbed probably too hard, scraping lace over the sensitive head of his cock, but Alfeegi only shuddered, making those sounds in the back of his throat, like it was so good it hurt.

"Don't, you'll ruin your dress," Alfeegi said breathlessly when he leaned down to kiss him, his protest made unconvincing by the hitch in his voice when Ruwalk hooked a finger through the front of his knickers and dragged them away, and he finally had Alfeegi, just Alfeegi, hot and hard in his hand, he hadn't shaved after all, and he wiped lipstick off his mouth so he could kiss him properly. He tasted different, less artificial and more Alfeegi, and it got even better when Alfeegi arched against him one last time and came, slick and wet and unutterably male.

"I told you not to ruin my slip," Alfeegi said, sitting up and frowning as he extricated his underwear from his tangled chemise, flushing at how damp it was. "I'll be sending you the bill."

"Fine, but first, could you just..." he said, trying to nudge Alfeegi's attention to where his cock was pressing painfully against his clothing.

"You need to take that dress off first." Alfeegi hesitated, and then reached for his laces.

"I really can't wait that long, Alfeegi," he said urgently, shaking him off. Just undressing him had taken far too long. Alfeegi's mouth widened into small, round 'o' before settling into a extremely satisfied smirk, and then he was ripping at Ruwalk's skirts, and possibly he should have complained considering how careful Alfeegi had made him be with his own clothing, but then Alfeegi had managed to push his petticoat aside and, and he was in all honesty beyond complaining at that point.

"This is very inconvenient. Hold these," he said, shoving the material up so he could pull his shorts out of the way, and Ruwalk's mind promptly shut down, not that he'd been functioning anywhere near well for the last, oh, hour or so. He clutched at his skirts as Alfeegi --Alfeegi, ravished and disheveled in the remnants of his female garments-- wiped the last of the gloss off his lips and took his cock into his mouth.

And that did it, watching that pretty, powdered face, Alfeegi clad only in his chemise, go down on him. Alfeegi got in about two or three quick sucks, and then it was all over and he was coming into that soft, sweet mouth.

"God," he said, flopping bonelessly next to Alfeegi, who looked way too satisfied for his own, or Ruwalk's, good. "You're amazing."

"You need to get out of that dress before it's beyond saving," Alfeegi lectured, but he looked pleased and pleased Alfeegi was always a good thing.

He didn't have enough energy for anything else but tossing it to the floor once Alfeegi got him undone. Alfeegi looked disapproving at the crumpled pile of blue fabric but let it pass, for which he was grateful, and let him spoon up against him, for which he was even more grateful.

"That thing is completely wrecked," he commented as Alfeegi shrugged out of his slip, feeling oddly pleased with himself for that.

"And whose fault is that?" Alfeegi retorted, but sleepily, without any real heat, and he lay back down and let Ruwalk card his fingers through his hair. It was much softer than it looked, and silky-smooth, falling like water through his hands.

"Would you do it again? That, I mean," he said, gesturing to the red dress draped carefully over the back of his armchair.

"Next year?" Alfeegi rolled over to face him.

"No, for fun. For me," he added.

Alfeegi was silent for a long moment. "I'd have to buy new clothes," he said slowly.

Ruwalk grinned. "Well, who's the one who just scored one hundred gold crowns?"

"I had to promise Cernozura half the money if I won," Alfeegi mumbled, and god help him, he could only laugh.

~owari~

DISCLAIMER: Dragon Knights belongs to Ohkami Mineko. I claim no ownership and make no profit.