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Heine almost sporfled all his drink when he saw that sight. 'What the hell?' he asked.
'How do you like this?' Badou replied, and made an attempt to twirl around and show his new looks. Heine just stared.
It was obvious that Badou had raided Bishop's closet, or rather, the closet where the pervy priest kept clothes for Nill.
Badou was dressed in some sort of frilly thing, he had a cute black ribbon in his hair, even his eyepatch had a lacy ruffle. But the most disturbing thing was definitely the sparkly pink lip gloss. It looked positively obscene on Badou's lips that (surprise, surprise) were firmly wrapped around a cigarette.
'What the fuck is wrong with you?' asked Heine with disbelief.
'Don't I look like a girl?' asked Badou and tried batting his eyelashes - a thing that did not come naturally to him.
'You look like a tranny,' Heine answered bluntly.
'Ouch, Heine! I did it for you, and this is the gratitude I get?' Badou complained.
'What are you smoking?' demanded Heine. 'How is this for me?'
'Well, I figured if you were around girls more often, you might stop being afraid of them,' Badou explained.
'I'm not afraid of anything,' Heine growled. 'Besides, even in the stupid dress you are still not a girl.'
'Use your imagination, Heine-kun! Pretend I'm a ~girl~,' said Badou in a rather feminine voice.
Heine stared again. Badou was definitely starting to get on his nerves with the girly stuff.
'Badou, I'm not interested in this shit. Go molest the priest, he might believe you're a girl,' said Heine. One definitely would have to be blind to think Badou was a girl - he was flat as a plank, and his hands were too big, and he was too tall. There was nothing girly about him.
Badou pouted: 'Heine-kun, aren't we friends? Don't friends help each other out?'
Heine rolled his eyes - Badou in a dress and pink lip gloss would be a thing that haunted his nightmares, not cure him of gynophobia.
'What do you want me to do then?' Heine asked tiredly. Perhaps if he did whatever Badou wanted, that eyesore of a dress would disappear along with that eyesore of a man Badou.
'You could begin with showing how friendly you can be to a nice girl like me,' Badou purred, obviously sensing that Heine gave up and would do anything to get the thing over with.
Heine raised an eyebrow - what was that supposed to mean? But Badou chose to show instead of tell. He quickly plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, approached Heine, and gave the man a firm, hot, tobacco-flavoured kiss.
Heine's first impulse was to shove Badou off him and punch the annoying redhead for good measure, but at the same time, damn, Badou was good at this kissing thing. Even the slight taste of sweetness (watermelons or some shit) from the lip gloss didn't ruin the kiss.
And Badou was standing close to him, and was warm, and smelled - well, pretty much like tobacco, but Heine's sensitive nose could discern that under that smell there was a clean scent of a freshly washed body. The thought that Badou had not just dressed up in a dumb costume, but even showered for him was strangely touching.
And the fact that Badou was doing the whole thing for him also was - it was stupid, and a misguided effort, and it would have no effects whatsoever, but how often did people do things for Heine? Not all that often. Heine relaxed into the kiss and enjoyed it.
Finally Badou broke the kiss and, breathing heavily, asked: 'Well, how does it feel kissing a girl?'
'I'm kissing you, dumbass!' answered Heine without his usual anger. Badou obviously noticed the lack of any hard feelings and slightly blushed.
'We could do more than kissing,' he suggested, and hurriedly added: 'Only to help you deal with women, obviously! It's not like I'm doing this for my entertainment!'
Heine gave Badou a toothy grin: 'Oh, could we? Aren't girls supposed to be more modest about sex?'
'Screw modesty,' Badou answered, and latched onto Heine again. This time they didn't just kiss, they were practically rubbing against each other. Heine stroke his palms over Badou's chest and relished the lack of boobs and softness - Badou was all lean muscle, his bones discernible under the skin. The silky material of the dress slithered under Heine's palms when he rubbed his hands over Badou's hardened nipples, making the redhead whimper.
That sound went straight to Heine's groin - it was such a small, helpless, submissive whimper. It was a sound that said 'Heine, do me!' And Heine was definitely going to listen to what it said.
He pulled away from Badou and asked: 'How about we took it somewhere more comfortable?'
'Yeah, bed. Now!' Badou panted, obviously affected by their activities.
They stumbled to the bed and fell on it in an ungraceful heap, Badou landing on top of Heine. Now it was Badou's turn to give a wicked grin - he straddled Heine, and squeezed the sizeable bulge between the man's legs, making Heine groan. Badou unzipped Heine's trousers and carefully pulled them down, then hitched up his dress and revealed his own hard cock.
'No underwear? Is that any way for good girls to dress?' smirked Heine, but his smirk soon morphed into a pleasure-filled grimace when Badou grasped both of their dicks and started stroking them.
Badou let go of them, making Heine groan in frustration, rummaged in the folds of his rumpled dress and fished out a tube of lube. He wriggled around to sit between Heine's legs.
'Now lift 'em and spread 'em, Heine-kun!' Badou hotly whispered, stroking his fingertips over Heine's thighs, avoiding Heine's straining cock that glistened with pre-cum.
'What? You're the girl, aren't you?' Heine protested.
'You won't learn to understand girls, if you are not on the bottom,' Badou said, being entirely too articulate for somebody with such a raging hard-on.
'I don't even want to understand... Oh whatever, get on with it,' growled Heine.
'All right,' replied Badou, and brought his lube-slicked fingers to Heine's arsehole. He carefully worked one finger inside Heine's tight, hot body, and bit his lip - if just fingering Heine turned him on so much, actual penetration might make his head explode. But that was a risk he was willing to take.
Oh yes, definitely - especially when Heine made a small mewling sound he wouldn't be caught dead making in other circumstances when another finger entered him. And when Heine shifted his hips to get more of the fingers inside. And when Heine ordered: 'Stop fucking about and fuck me!'
In other situation Badou would have laughed at the awkwardly phrased sentence, but at that point he was too far gone himself. He grasped his cock and guided it inside Heine.
Both of them froze for a moment at the sensory overload, but then Heine snarled: 'Fuck me, damn it!' Badou had no choice but to obey.
It felt too good, it was too intense and too hot - Badou came in no time, and Heine followed right afterwards.
They lay on the bed breathing heavily. 'Well, how do you feel about girls now?' Badou asked.
'Not sure,' thoughtfully replied Heine. 'We must do that again without the dress to check.'
Badou smirked - he definitely was not against doing it again.
The End