(no subject)
My word, it's been a while.
I've had this lil' ditty going on for a while, eking out bits here and there over the last month or so. I FINALLY finished it. :D It's a Torrin!verse, one I'd told moit AGES ago that she'd like but never explained/expanded on. So. :D
Title: Just Like You: Candy
Pairing/Characters: C/Z, Torrin!verse
Rating: NC-17
Very-Slight-Warning(s): crossdressing
Genre: AU, future!fic
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: The traditional vaca Casey and Zeke take every summer makes a slight detour, due to their son's shenanigans.
There were two more days until Casey and Zeke descended on P-Town, but the excitement of the trip was starting to swell to epic proportions. With Casey taking the whole summer off, he had plenty of time to pack, plan, pack and pack. He wasn't usually a neurotic fool, but when it came to trips?
“Mmkay...” he muttered to himself as he set down his largest suitcase by the door. The check-list of all the things he wanted to bring in this one were there, so he moved onto 'Case #2'. THIS was one he needed to be the most astute with, the one that would hold the most important items-even if the items inside would only be used one night out of the seven he and Zeke were to enjoy. Maybe, just maybe, Casey would be tempted to make it TWO nights...
“Hey, Dad?”
Casey looked away from the closet to the hall, where Torrin had appeared. “Hey, Tory,” he said with a smile. “Enjoying your first day of summer-vaca?”
“Yea, loads. 'Just wondering... is it okay if I spent the night at Mike's tonight?” Torrin asked.
“Sure, that's fine.”
“Cool. We're gonna head to the park and meet the guys, hang out and stuff. Mind if I hop on your computer to check facebook and let 'em know I'm in? My laptop's still acting like a jerk.”
“Sure, go ahead... and what time is Mike's curfew?” Casey asked pointedly. Torrin rolled his eyes, but smiled.
“Midnight, same as me,” he said.
“Good. I know Steve and Jessie are just as gestapo as we are, so you're good,” Casey replied.
“Cool. So... packing already, huh?” Torrin said, nodding to the suitcases.
“No harm in being prepared, is there?”
Torrin shrugged. “You know that Dad's gonna throw his crap in a plastic bag and be done with it,” he said.
“Not after LAST year when he forgot his precious hair-care items,” Casey replied with a chuckle. When he returned to the closet and began pulling out his 'special box', Torrin groaned.
“Oh god, you aren't... tell me you aren't.”
“Whaaat?” Casey drawled. “I do it EVERY year.”
“And you're gonna try to get me to keep my eyes open when you show off THAT part in your stupid slideshow again, huh? Well, bring the stapler, cos' I'm not going down without a fight,” Torrin said with Zeke's famous smirk on his face.
“I don't know why your panties get in a bind over it. It's fun. Jessie loves that part the most when they come by to watch it,” Casey said.
Torrin made a long, dramatic sigh, shook his head then left for Casey's office. After a good ten minutes, Casey heard the boy's cell phone ringing.
“Yea, I'm comin'--wait, now? But I... oh, for real?”
Casey heard his excited chattering, brought on by Mike's telling him they'd be heading to the park early-there WAS a cheerleading competition going on in the tech school's field, which was right next to the park. The hormone-raging boys couldn't miss out on that opportunity, of course. It wasn't long before Torrin was saying, “On my way!” then zooming out of the office to the stairs, calling, “See ya!”
“And love ya,” Casey called back.
“That too!”
'Teenagers,' Casey thought as he brought the box out to the bed and lifted the cover. A smile spread over his face; oh, yes.
~*~
As Casey had predicted, Zeke wasn't taking any chances this trip. Instead of the plastic-bags he usually used as luggage, he was currently showing off the new set of suitcases he'd picked up at T.J. Maxx. “Got 'em on the cheap,” he said of the brand new shiny dark red cases.
“Cool. Next trip I'll do the same. This set's getting kinda junky,” Casey said, motioning to his own, older cases. With that task finished, he flopped onto the bed on his back. “God, this is gonna be nice.”
“Yup. AND we don't have to bother with airfare,” Zeke said, making Casey frown and put his head up to look at him.
“Huh? Provincetown's what, a few miles that way?” Casey said, pointing north. “We drive there, doofus.”
“No-I meant for Tory.” Zeke went to the bureau, smiling wide. “No shuffling him off to Stokes and Stanny's.”
“Ohh...” Casey sighed and moved back down to stare at the ceiling. “Yea, that...”
“You ain't nervous still, are ya?” Zeke asked.
Casey shrugged. “A little. He IS only seventeen, and we're gone for a week. I dunno. I just keep coming up with these disastrous scenarios, the house burning down, whatever else.”
“Yea, and like you just said-we're gonna be a couple hours away. And really, he's a trustworthy kid,” Zeke said. He tossed a few shirts on the bed by Casey's feet, saying, “He's not into big booze parties or drugs, his friends are all nice guys... he'll do fine.”
“I guess. Oh, shit.”
“What?”
Casey sat up quick and hopped out of the room. “I gotta make sure we confirm our reservations,” he said. Now in his office, he sat down in front of his desktop computer and swirled the mouse around to get rid of the screensaver of bubbles. When the screen popped up, he groaned. “Tory left his facebook open again.”
“Ooh. What do we post under his name?” Zeke yelled back.
“Oh shut up, you're ter... ri...” Casey trailed off as he got a look at the first two posts. While he didn't make it a practice to spy on their son and get into his business, Torrin HAD left the page open for anyone to come across... and he had left the most interesting posts right there, where Casey could plainly see just what their 'trustworthy' young man was up to. “Zeke? Get in here.”
“What?” Zeke called, but was soon in the office wearing a frown. “What is it?”
Casey felt his face go hot as he pointed at the screen. Zeke came around to get a look; he, too, went red. “You gotta be kidding me...” he said as he scanned the text. “Scroll down, maybe it's a joke.”
Sniffing, Casey indeed moved the page down. “Ah. Lookit that, thirty-two comments. Let's take a read, shall we?” he said as he clicked the post itself to bring it all up.
Party at TCT's on Friday!!!! Mike's post in Torrin's wall read, inviting others to commiserate.
Max Sanders wut are the rents gone??
Torrin Connor-Tyler yeeeeeeea Mikey's planning a party at MY place apparently lol
Max Sanders awesomeeeee!!!
Torrin Connor-Tyler dood, we are NOT getting nuts, the dads'll murder me
Mike Milton oh CHILL it's gonna be fun
Nicky Barnes BYOB???/?
Torrin Connor-Tyler lol fuck I dunno, that can get me in some deep shit.
Max Sanders I know someone who can get the booze! Cummon it ain't a party without it.....
“God, not Max,” Zeke said of the nice-but-slightly-delinquent young man. He was the most troublesome of the group of friends, proving it in helping everyone booze up that fateful night when Torrin had called to say they were too drunk to drive home from the park. Casey shook his head and read on.
Nicky Barnes my sis just said that she can get a few of her hottie-friends down for it. W0000t!
Torrin Connor-Tyler I told Mikey we gotta keep shit to a dull roar. For all I know, the dads have a neighborhood-watch thing going on while they're gone.... so seriously this ain't an open-invite thing.
Hailey Burlington I am SOOOO down for a party, we gotta start summer RIGHT!!!!!!!! :))))
Patrick Sheldon omg Haylz, you gotta get the gymnastics chicks in on this!!!!
Hailey Burlington why so you can PERV on them all?? LMAO
Patrick Sheldon DUH
Mike Milton SECONDED (pat's party request)
Torrin Connor-Tyler lolol my dads find out about this shit and I'm in military school
“Damned right,” Casey said. The comments went on and on, every one detailing just what exactly a bunch of teenagers could get up-to when the authoritative figures of a household left them to their own devices. Casey slumped back in his chair and jerked back and forth. “Well then.”
“Jesus.” Zeke stood straight, lit a cigarette and let his first drag out in a heavy puff. “I'm getting on the horn, now. Fuck our spawn's plans with 'the guys' tonight, he's grounded to shit.”
“As Mikey said, 'seconded',” Casey replied. As visions of their son being dragged around the house by his ears went through his mind, Zeke got his cell out and began dialing. It was then that Casey's brain snapped into other, more devious scenarios; he sat up quick and held up his hand. “Wait! Wait, wait, wait...”
“What?” Zeke said.
“We're... going about this the wrong way.”
“What's the right way? C'mon, I'm looking forward to yelling at him.”
Casey gave his husband a deep, penetrative look. “What does Torrin fear the most when it comes to us grounding him?” he asked.
“Um... BEING grounded?” Zeke said.
“No. It's how creative we are about handing it over.”
~*~
Friday Afternoon
“Okay-last check before we go...”
“Dad, seriously.”
“The emergency numbers are on the fridge, including our motel's in case the cells die or whatever,” Casey said, ignoring his son's impatient protests. 'You just can't wait, can you?' he thought before going on, “We'll be calling every day to check-up on you, at any time. So keep your cell charged.”
“I know, I know,” Torrin said.
“No big parties, no booze, nothing. You have a nice stack of cash in your account for food or whatever else you need; if I get one tiny hint of suspicion, I'll check the bank account on Dad's laptop to see what purchases and-or big withdrawals show up,” Casey said. He pulled the handle of his suitcase up and held onto it, noticing how Torrin's eyes dropped down to look. “If something happens, Mike's parents are on alert and can help you-along with the Thompsons down the road.”
Torrin nodded fast. “Got it. Seriously, stop worrying,” he said, putting on his best and brightest 'good-boy' smile. Casey smiled back-for different reasons.
“I know. I trust you, Tory; you're a good boy,” Casey said to give another small stab of conscience. Though Torrin's smile stayed on, he averted his eyes and sighed.
“I'll be fine,” he said.
“Good.” Casey went in for a tight squeeze, made of half-love, half-'I'm gonna have SO much fun with you tonight, you little bastard.'
After Zeke put Casey's luggage into the trunk, he slammed it closed, came around to them and took his turn giving Torrin a hug. “'K, son; we're off. Be good,” he said.
“I will. You guys have fun gaying-it-up,” Torrin joked.
“That's what P-Town's for,” Casey said with another bright, unnaturally huge smile.
The young man stood back on the sidewalk to watch them get into the Mustang, back out of the drive then waved them off. Casey waved back, smiling as he said, “He doesn't suspect a thing, does he?”
“Mmm, nope. You were right...” Zeke lit a cigarette and turned to Casey, beaming. “...This IS gonna be a lot better than grounding him outright.”
“Yup. Anyway, traffic will be easier to deal with after dark; miss the crowds, all that shit,” Casey said. He grabbed Zeke's cigarettes from the console and lit one up for himself. The first drag came out in a slow hiss. “Hate dealing with that.”
“It works out for everyone, doesn't it?” Zeke replied, his chuckling sounding more like an evil cackle.
Per their original plans, they would've been going west to meet I-95 within the hour. Instead, Zeke took them east, heading to their favorite eatery, the 'Old Tymes Restaurant' to sit in wait. That waiting would be hard, but four hours from now at seven o'clock, they'd be making the promised call-home, letting Torrin know that they'd gotten to Provincetown safely. Torrin's party-plans were supposed to start around eight, and that call would make the nasty little man feel safe enough to crank up the music, open the doors and let anyone and everyone inside to enjoy the parent-less surroundings. Though Casey himself had never gotten the opportunity to be a reckless delinquent through overprotective parents and the lack of a social life, Zeke's history was different. These thoughts made him turn to Zeke with a smile. “Hey.”
“What?”
“Do you feel a little... guilty?” Casey asked. When Zeke shot him a confused frown, Casey chuckled and went on, “I mean, about crashing this party of Torrin's, being all parents and shit. Considering your history...”
“Ah, I see,” Zeke said. After stopping at the next red light, he took a heavy drag, sank back a little and shrugged. “Maybe a little-a very teensy-tiny bit. But hey, I AM his dad, right? Part of being 'Dad' is getting to humiliate their rotten kid when they pull shit.”
“True, true. So...” Casey trailed off and tried making some smoke rings before saying, “...When we DO show up to 'party down' with these miscreants, do we act like teenagers ourselves or pretend we're cops?”
“I thought we were gonna go with hopping in and somehow getting everyone to start a conga line?”
Casey laughed. “Well, yea... but... the second Torrin sees us, he's either gonna bolt or cry.”
“'Hope it's the former. I wanna let him know how deep in shit he is, not make him bawl in front of the entire team and hot girls,” Zeke replied.
Before Casey could reply, a small thump came from the trunk when Zeke sped off when the light went green. He swore he heard a scattering noise and worried. “Hey, can we stop a sec?”
“Why?”
“I think my 'special case' just threw up in the trunk.”
“I ain't stopping for that, Jesus.”
Casey rolled his eyes and went to complain, but his thoughts suddenly shifted. With the radio on low, he began thinking very deeply, contemplating just what kind of 'entrance' he and Zeke could make. Or really, just himself, no Zeke involved. “Hey, Zeke?” Casey muttered finally, just as they pulled into the restaurant's lot.
“Yea?” Zeke said.
“I want to... alter the deal.”
Zeke chortled. “Pray you don't alter it further?”
The geekery of the Star Wars referencing seemed apt; after all, Casey's thoughts were more evil than anything Darth Vader could ever come up with. “Instead of it being you and me crashing this crazy shindig... what if Candy did?” Casey said.
Zeke pulled into a row of unoccupied parking spots, eyes widening as he turned to Casey. “Whaaaat?” he said in a drawl.
“She's convincing enough, am I right?”
Zeke's jaw dropped as he stared at Casey. “Y-Yea? But... oh my fucking god...”
“It's perfect, isn't it? C'mon, say it ain't,” Casey said.
“He might see through it. Fuck, anyone there might, like Mikey and Pat, whoever else.”
“According to YOU, Candy's a pro. Am I right?”
Though Zeke smiled, he looked nervous. “I... dunno, that can be really fucking risky.”
Casey took a deep breath and gave his idea further thought. “Okay. How about we take... a test-run of sorts? Go around town, do a little... 'shopping'? After all, Candy only has ridiculous evening gowns and damned-near clown makeup. We'd need something more teenager-y.”
“I...” Zeke paused, shaking his head. The slight nervous expression faded, replaced with a look of admiration. “I fucking love you.”
Casey laughed and nodded back to the road. “C'mon. Let's hit T.J., then maybe the Sephora section at Penney's.”
“Oh, rich tastes, huh?” Zeke remarked as he put the car back in drive.
“Like I said-clown makeup's all Candy's got,” Casey said with a wink.
~*~
There were no other options; though Casey and Zeke had gotten telltale looks from the motel clerk after requesting a room with an hourly-rate, their 'Candy' idea couldn't be put-together in a McDonald's restroom. Casey needed a lot more space, time and most importantly, privacy.
The shopping for this new plan was pulled off without a hitch, as well. They made the stop at JC Penney first, deciding to get everything there instead of also dropping by TJ's. Though Zeke knew 'Candy's' size, Casey couldn't let him go-it alone. It was a little risky, but the cover-story about shopping for their niece's high school graduation present had made the woman at the Sephora shop and sales clerk checking them out smile, both of them saying that she was a 'lucky girl'. The cosmetics and clothing they'd picked out would definitely make any young lady gasp, smile and hop around happily.
It was hard for Casey to contain himself himself. Even if this wasn't a common practice, even if this only happened one weekend a year, he was all-too-pleased as he laid everything out on the bathroom counter, clothes hanging from the shower curtain's rod. Zeke had begged to watch, but nothing-doing; this was Casey's own time, something personal and fun for he alone. He rather liked giving Zeke this small surprise, and even though the circumstances were different, the act was still the same. With a soft sigh of contemplation, Casey turned to the clothing first.
No drag queen style with these items. Instead of the usual sequins, rhinestones and other garish additions, Casey had gone with a college girl's pink shirt, cut perfectly to show off a curvy frame. He didn't HAVE those curves, but it was sure to make 'Candy' look pretty and perfect. The pink, white and baby-blue plaid pleated skirt, short enough to show off the thigh-highs but long and poofy enough to hide any 'evidence' was just as lovely. Simple black Mary Janes made the picture complete. However pleased Casey was, he did have a few doubts.
This plan would be aborted in an instant should he really not pass as Candy the College Girl. He made Candy the Drag Princess gorgeous, perfect for a Provincetown gay club's 'amateur night'. Casey may have had a stunningly youthful face, even at age forty-one, but could he really, truly and honestly pass as a twenty-something? That was about to be revealed and confirmed through hard work and precision.
The new lacy, dark-pink bra came first, along with the falsies. Given how much he'd spent on the things, they'd better make this work. After a few tugs, pulls and clasps being done, he looked into the mirror. 'Check,' he muttered in his mind before slipping the shirt on. He smiled wide, seeing how it hugged his chest while the sides flared out a little to create curves on a straight frame. He turned halfway to the left then to the right. 'Check,' he thought again.
Thigh-highs came next; the stretchy tops braced comfortably over his legs, no muffin-topping involved. Once done with those, Casey took the skirt and slid it up, up then buttoned. Again, it was a great fit. Not trying things on could be risky, and he couldn't have dared do this in Penney's fitting room. He scanned the entire outfit and sighed. “Checkity-check,” he muttered aloud.
Makeup could be tricky, but Sephora was expensive for a reason. Instead of ghastly-but-fun reds and blues, cheap liner and mascaras that could make him look like a raccoon a mere hour after being applied, the light pink and blue of the eyeshadow went on with ease, smoothing over his lids. His expertise and precision was appreciated, bringing perfect accentuation to his face. Eyeliner, mascara... 'I'm shopping there forever,' Casey thought. Making this a habit would definitely secure first place at every amateur night, for sure. According to Zeke, those contests HAD to be rigged when Casey had only gotten one third place position then two seconds in the last three years. Casey didn't have to be a twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week crossdressing queen to get that crown. Just the annual one-night pageant, where he could let-loose and have fun, screw the naysayers. This year was first place all the way, or someone was going to land in the hospital.
After applying the most gorgeous shade of deep pink to his lips, Casey bent back and stared. He was most definitely not forty-one right now, no; if he were to take a stroll on campus like this, no one, colleague or student, would recognize him. He'd been seen as a fashionable, pretty twenty-something-perhaps even a freshman. 'Okay, not THAT good,' he thought. Still, this was good enough for a teen's 'no parents' party. It was time for the finishing touch; Casey smiled at the new wig he'd gotten the week before. It fit both drag-queen AND college princess just fine, with the long chestnut strands accentuated with blonde highlights made for all-purpose occasions. Casey slicked back his hair with gel, let it sit a moment then positioned the wig, pinning it on with plenty of hairpins. This was where he was the most fussy and precise, of course. Out of everything, the quality of a wig was most important-and this one was very simply it.
“Check,” he murmured at his mirrored image. Casey was long-gone, lost behind the most girlish, prettiest person. However distinct the blue of his eyes were, something that could easily be a 'tip-off' to those who knew him, the cosmetics around them provided serious cover. He made a few more turns, strained to get a look at his backside ('Having a butt-bump thing would come in handy, oh well,' he thought at his ass) then packed everything back into his case. That done, he went to the door for the first, most important opinion.
Zeke snapped his eyes away from the TV to Casey in an instant. Casey smiled wide, lifted his arms then turned himself around. “Well?” he said.
Standing slowly, Zeke rolled his tongue around in his mouth and shook his head. “Hello, Candy,” he said, voice low and almost gritty.
“I take it I pass?” Casey asked.
“Mmhmm. Professor Tyler gives you an A... A-plus if he gets to mess up the makeup.”
“Fuck you, no-not after the time spent putting it on.”
“Pssh. Sure, Delilah,” Zeke teased. He let out a heavy breath. “What do I gotta do to make this happen, like... every other day?”
Casey shook his head and smirked. “You're supposed to be a proud gay man, sweetie.”
“Yea, but...”
“Let's take a test drive.”
Zeke sighed sadly, picked up his keys and went to the door. “Cock tease,” he muttered.
~*~
The two young men working the McDonald's counter had confirmed 'Candy' even more than Casey could've hoped for. Their gooey-eyed looks, stupid grins and muttered conversation-loud enough for Casey to hear the words 'babe' and 'fuckin' hot!' were a joy to witness. Casey's well-practiced, lilting voice gave the boy serving him a sweet “Thank you, honey,” before taking his bag of fries and pies and heading back out to the lot.
“Well?” Zeke said once Casey was in the passenger seat.
“Better leave quick; the boys in there might fight you for me,” Casey replied. Chortling heavily, Zeke backed out of the spot and went to leave the shopping plaza. Before he could turn left toward the main exit, Casey slapped his arm lightly. “Wait, wait-the Bon Ton.”
“What, forget to pick up something lacy to go under that skirt?” Zeke asked, adding, “CAN we pick up something lacy to go under-”
“Jessie works every Friday night... and she's always wanted to see this in-person.”
Zeke blinked furiously then signaled right, heading to the lot in front of the shop. “I wonder if she'll recognize you...”
“Should I see... like, pretend 'Candy's' shopping for perfume?”
“Hells yea.”
Casey giggled like a schoolgirl; Zeke cringed and made a quick grab at his crotch, shaking his head slowly. “You're too good at that,” Zeke told him.
“So? You're GAY, remember?” Casey replied coyly.
“It's not that, it's you being all... like this, and... forget it.” Zeke shook his head and pulled up to the curb in front of the store. “I'll wait in the lot; seeing me with you might give it all away.”
“Yea, I'd thought on that. Back in a bit!” With a blown kiss and yet another giggle, Casey slipped out of the car, shut the door and faced the Bon Ton with a steely expression. It took until Zeke pulled away to find a spot for him to dare walk to the entrance and go inside.
The expectation to be noticed as a guy in drag couldn't be helped, and made Casey look around the place for any suspicious glances. It wasn't very busy, which he was glad for. He'd need Jessie's full and undivided attention, after all. When he passed by a clerk hanging blouses on a rack, she looked up at him, smiled then turned back to her work. No double-take or dropped jaw-so far, so good. Casey tried easing his gait, making his steps slow instead of striding along like the man he was. The purse he held was brought to his front and held tight as he finally reached the cosmetics area. There Jessie was, arranging a display of Chanel bottles. 'Let's do this...' Casey thought as he got to the glass counter a foot or two away from her. “Hi,” he said in a light, airy voice.
“Oh... hello, there!” Jessie smiled wide and stopped fussing with the glittering glass bottles to go over. For a moment, Casey swore he saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes; there was a flinch, a pause... “Ah-choo!” she belted out a sneeze and groaned. “Oh, so sorry, honey... this new line from Chanel's not cooperating with my nose.”
Casey let a smile shake onto his pink lips. “Don't tell me you're allergic. You'll be out of a job.”
Jessie chuckled and shook her head. “Oh no, no-this is the only one that's done this. Otherwise, I'm the expert,” she said.
“Good. Cos'... well, I need something extra-special.”
“Ooh. Hot date?” Jessie said, even waggling her eyebrows a little bit. Casey felt high in her total ignorance as he nodded.
“Yea, kinda. I'm... looking for something a little... sweet? Not too strong?” he said.
“Well, let's see what we can do...”
Amazing. Casey followed along, listening to the woman's advice and suggestions. He was given slips of paper sprayed with various scents for him to sniff, making thoughtful hums and shrugs along the way. As Jessie drew out a few more choices, she gave him a grin. “So... what is a 'kinda hot date', anyway?” she asked.
“Oh. Well, I've been with the guy a while now, actually,” Casey said. “But our anniversary is coming up.”
“Really? Well, congratulations! You're in it for the long haul, huh?”
“Mmm, definitely.”
Jessie chuckled again as she next drew out a pretty star-shaped number filled with periwinkle blue liquid. “Let's try this one, 'Angel'. It's a really soft, sweet scent with notes of chocolate.”
“Ooh...” Casey smiled and took the paper she'd sprayed up to his nose. It really was lovely. Deciding this would be a great time to drop hints, he nodded and said, “Zeke will just love this one.”
Jessie paused, blinking wildly a moment before smiling. “Hah, I know a Zeke... not your type, however.”
It was too damned much. Casey leaned in closer. “He's exactly my type, hon,” he said, his voice going to normal now to let the new information sink in fully. Sink in it did; Jessie's eyes snapped back to him and her expression was indescribable. Her jaw dropped down slowly, eyes widening quick.
“You... you're, no-no, Casey??”
“Shh!”
Jessie scoffed, over and over again until she leaned in, squealing. “Oh my god! It's really YOU under all of that??” she asked, aghast.
“I hope so, 'hate to think if putting on a skirt erases my manhood...” Casey retorted.
“You... you're fucking gorgeous!” she said in an urgent hiss. As Casey held back a whoop of laughter, Jessie shook her head vehemently. “No, seriously, I thought you were some silly college girl ready to blow the wad on a perfume for her dumb boyfriend to like!”
“It IS nice. And it'd offer some realism.” Casey reached into his purse. “How much for your smallest bottle?”
“Screw that, here's a couple samples!”
Casey snorted as the woman grabbed a few sample-vials and slid them over the counter to him. Rolling his eyes, he tossed them into his purse quickly. “Thanks, sweetie.”
“So what, are you dressing up before you even get there? Just in case the car breaks down and you wanna get a 'good Samaritan' the quickest way you can?” she teased.
“Actually... okay. If I tell you, you can't butt-in.”
“Tell me what?”
Sighing again, Casey leaned in even closer. “Our kids are currently putting together a big ol' party at the Connor-Tyler household, a 'no parents' number.”
Jessie frowned. “Huh?”
“You heard.”
“But... Mikey said he and Tor were just gonna play video games and... are you sure?”
“Believe me, facebook doesn't lie. Torrin kinda forgot to close the window on the computer, let us see ev-ery-thing,” Casey replied.
“Ooh. That boy of mine, he is gonna GET it...” Jessie muttered in a gruff tone, but Casey shook his head and held up a hand.
“No, no. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. After tonight, they won't be pulling this crap again,” he said.
“How do... huh?”
“Let's just say... Candy's gonna crash that shit and make Torrin wish he was never born.”
“Oh. No. You aren't...”
“I am.”
“But-but if someone recognizes you! That...” Jessie paused to swallow, looking concerned but still wearing a grin. “Though-really, I'm not the most easily-bamboozled person on the planet. And you fooled the hell outta me.”
“I'll be laying low for the most part. I'm just gonna wander in, ask for the host and let him figure out how he can cancel his get-together in a two-minute time frame,” Casey said.
“Oh. This is fantastic. I wish I could be there... oh! PLEASE say you're taking video with your phone, something??”
Casey blinked furiously. He hadn't thought of that, though he didn't know why. He reached into his purse and dug out his phone. “I guess I could pretend I'm texting, right?” he said, which made Jessie squeal with devious delight.
“Please, please, please!” she said.
“I'll try. Just... one thing.” Casey sighed and smiled, making it soft instead of evil. “We're considering this Torrin's punishment, all in one-go. Don't be too hard on Mikey?”
Jessie took a deep breath and thought a moment. “Well... we'll see. It really depends on if you catch my brat funneling or some crap like that.”
“We'll see is right,” Casey said, and with that, he gave Jessie a quick squeeze to the hand, turned and walked off. Coming here had been the best idea ever, as the confidence he felt in this 'talent' of his was sky-high, now.
~*~
“Well, he didn't waste any time, did he?” Zeke said as he and Casey gazed through the windshield at their house. It didn't matter that they were keeping their distance, not wanting anyone to catch sight of the Connor-Tyler's way-too-familiar car. Even from four houses down, the signs of celebration were evident through the many cars lining the curbs, the faint sound of hard-hitting bass music and teenagers ambling around the front yard, drive and porch area. Casey sighed and shook his head.
“It's a surprise the cops aren't here already,” he said.
Zeke clucked his tongue and looked to Casey. “And Jessie said that she didn't have one fucking clue, right?”
“What, getting cold feet?”
“Just wanna be sure. Damn, that stuff smells good on you.”
Casey snorted and flicked the small torn-open packet that held the Angel hand-cream sample Jessie had given him. “It's nice, but don't get used to it. Remember-this is a once-a-year thing.”
“Yea, yea...” Zeke muttered. He rubbed his mouth for a few moments before sniffing out a few chuckles. “It's now or never, babe.”
“'Guess so.” Casey shifted in his seat and did a few last-minute things: iPhone camera ready-to-shoot: check. Makeup flawless: check. Wig still straight, even and gorgeous: check. Before a case of nerves could set-in, Casey opened the car door and stepped out onto the walk. He bent down, stuck his upper half in and grinned. “Kiss for luck?”
Zeke grinned and leaned in to give Casey the best 'good luck' kiss that ever existed... almost too good, making Casey pull back before the cosmetics could disappear. “I'll be waiting,” Zeke said in a dreamy voice.
'Now or never...' Casey repeated in his mind as he straightened his outfit, shut the door and began walking down to their place. Though he'd perfected the art of walking in heels by now, he was glad to have chosen the slippers; his knees felt strained and tight as he approached, as if his legs were fighting this to get him to turn around, run off and pretend this never happened. His brain, however, kept whirring... kept convincing him that this was going to be the most epic, most daring and most unforgettable event in their little boy's life. By the time he reached the last row of hedges that separated #66 and their house, #68, Casey was determined, shown in his even steps and slight wobble of hips, emulating a young girl's stride immaculately.
However difficult it was to maintain a cool, unbothered and even pleased expression in coming across the group of boys standing in the yard playing hackeysack, a beer in each hand while a group of girls watched, Casey managed it. He also managed to make one of the guys, a boy he didn't know, do a double-take at him then stare, long enough to miss the colorful cloth ball kicked his way. “Hi,” Casey dared to say in the best voice he could muster.
“Hey,” the boy said.
“C'mon, Billy!” another boy in the ring of friends said and their game resumed. Casey sighed shakily and went up the steps-HIS steps, needing to turn to the side in order to pass through the large group of people gathered on the porch. 'Keeping this to a 'dull roar', my ass,' Casey thought. The urge to yell, “Outta my way, this is MY HOUSE!” was overwhelming, especially when two girls came stumbling out and almost straight into him, both of them giggling and talking about some boy they didn't like who'd shown up. “'Scuse me,” Casey managed to mutter through a smile, the gritted teeth behind it tensing his jaw.
“Who's that girl?” one of the girls asked her friend.
Casey cocked an eyebrow and left them to wonder as he finally entered the 'inner sanctuary'... HIS house, which he was surprised was still standing, considering what was going on. Torrin was usually respectful when it came to his music of choice-bone-crushing dubstep, but that was when 'the 'rent's' were home. The windows would need some work due to the volume of the stereo being up to the 'bleeding ears' setting Casey didn't know it had. He paused at the archway that led into the living room and did a quick inventory.
There were a few more beers being suckled upon, but not as many as he'd feared. While a boy and girl were looking a little-bit-too-cozy on the loveseat on the far side of the room, everyone still had their clothes on. Two boys were sitting on the floor, a girl on each side as they played an intense racing game on Torrin's Xbox, hooting and hollering as they battled it out.
“Oh my GOD, I love your skirt!”
It took a light tug at Casey's skirt to make him realize that someone had been talking to him. He flicked his eyes to the left and found a young blonde girl standing there, smiling at his outfit. “Oh... um...”
“Where'd you get it? I saw one at Forever 21 like this, SO wanted to pick it up!” she said.
“Um... yea, yea, that's... it,” Casey said, adding a giggle. “I live in that store.”
“Oh my god, me too,” the girl said. Casey had to hold back a wince and snarl when she lifted a beer to her lips, took a few gulps then asked, “Do you go to Norwich High??”
“Oh. No, I'm... a friend of Torrin's from... Mystic.”
“Mystic?”
The next familiar voice Casey heard gave him a moment of pure, undiluted panic. Through sheer will, he turned to the right and found Mike, who was giving Casey an inquisitive stare. “Yea... yea, we met at one of his games... he had. At Mystic High,” he managed to reply.
“Oh. Hah, I'm on the team, too, don't remember you,” Mike said.
Oh god. He didn't know. He really didn't fucking know. Casey glanced down to the boy's hands, expecting to find a half-empty bottle of tequila, but a can of root beer was there instead. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Casey raised his hand and grinned. “Candy. And...?”
“Mike; pleased to meet ya.” Mike took his hand and gave it a very light shake. “Candy, huh? Thassa name.”
“Mom ate nothing but sweet stuff when she was pregnant... it made sense.” It wasn't a lie, at any rate...
“If that's how it works, my name woulda been 'Rice Pudding',” Mike said with a guffaw. Casey giggled along while glancing around the room.
“This is soooome party,” he said.
“Well, when your name's Torrin Connor-Tyler, it's expected.”
“Oh yea?”
Mike made a sage nod, sipped some soda and said, “Yup. You don't win as many games for your school as HE does and not get serious respect. I guess I should say 'sorry'... we've kicked your school's asses a thousand times.”
“No big. Our teams suck,” Casey said. “Where is he, anyway?”
“He went out to the garage for a minute, looking for an extra trash can. Our friend Max just called-I guess he somehow snagged a kegger for this shit.” Mike smirked and rolled his eyes. “Tory tried to tell the guy to squash out THAT plan, but... Max wants to bring the party.”
This couldn't go on for much longer. 'Damn it, you guys...' Casey thought both Torrin and Mike's way. Even if they themselves didn't get plastered, all a pair of married men needed was some idiot kid cracking-up on the highway after a party being held by their stupid kid, bringing every single gay-hating organization to their doorstep to give the world an example of just how two men were not, in any way shape or form, able to raise a kid without it getting ugly. Casey's smile went wide, unreal. “So... how many are YOU gonna take in tonight?”
“Oh, well... eh, I'm not big on the whole... drinking thing,” Mike said. A pleasure to hear, but still... the boy gave Casey a once-over and let his smile grow. “Are you?”
“No, I just came... for the fun.”
Mike's own grin grew, sliding over his lips like smooth molasses. He nudged Casey's upper arm with his shoulder. “Mmm, well-I'M fun.”
Oh no. Not this. This REALLY couldn't go on. “I know, Mikey. But... if you wouldn't mind...” Casey cleared his throat, clucked his tongue and cocked an eyebrow. Putting Candy to the side, he said in his unquestionably-male voice, “I'd like to find my son and see what can be done about this situation he's just put you in.”
All Mike did for the next ten to twelve seconds was stare at Casey-Casey, not Candy, the 'girl' he'd just come dangerously close to hitting-on full-force. Casey relished every single shade of white he turned, until he was as pale as a ghost. “Mis... Mister...”
“Shh... shh-hh...” Casey put a finger to Mike's lips and shook his head slowly. He leaned in close and lowered his voice, enough to be heard over the music but quiet enough to stay secret. “No one here needs to know. I don't want them to know. But I'll have no choice but to make things really, really hard on Norwich's 'star player' if we don't find him. Now.”
Mike swallowed hard, eyelashes fluttering as if they'd become hummingbirds. He turned his head to the kitchen doorway in a jerk then began walking off. “H-He's... probably...” Mike said as Casey followed.
“Hey, Milton! Who's the babe??” One of the guys from the team-'Justin? Jack?' Casey scanned his memory of Torrin's games as they passed the boy watching them go-called out to Mike, who cringed. Hard.
“Not now, Jimmy... f-fuck...”
It was too good. Casey couldn't help but throw poor 'Jimmy' a coy smile, who gave Casey a more dumb, dopey version back. Now in the kitchen, Casey looked around. While the living room hadn't taken a hit, THIS room had. Half-empty boxes of pizza were on the kitchen island and floor, the one on the linoleum being stood upon by two girls who were looking at pictures on a phone together; glasses, bottles and cans of all kinds were everywhere; some kid was standing at the stove with a mixing bowl, saying something about brownies...
'Oh, FUCK no!' Casey thought when he saw a plastic bag full of something green on the counter.
“Torrin! TOR-rin!”
Mike's calling out made Casey snap his head up toward the back door. Sure enough, the sneaky little jerk was coming inside, shaking his head while talking to another boy from the team, Kevin. “They probably tossed the thing, it DID have a big ol' crack in it...”
“Tor! Rin!” Mike called again, sounding desperate.
“What? What's-oh, for fuck's sake, Carter!”
Casey watched as Torrin all but jumped over to the stove where pot-brownie-boy was standing. “I SAID, we can't do that shit here!” Torrin said.
“Aw, c'mon!” 'Carter' said.
“This thing's gotten outta fuckin' control...”
Mike set his jaw, grabbed Casey's elbow and pulled him with him to get to Torrin. “Tor. We got a problem.”
“What the fuck else is new? I TOLD you guys, this was supposed to be a small deal,” Torrin said. He looked to Casey, looked away-then back again. “Who...”
“Take a good. Fuckin'. Look.” Mike said.
Torrin stood there, mute and looking empty-headed as he stared at Casey. He knew-HAD to. Just in case there was any doubt, Casey sighed and leaned in close. “You should be more careful when you're hanging out on facebook on MY computer, pumpkin.”
Torrin's jaw shook open and lowered, until Casey swore it was going to come unhinged and land on the pile of discarded snack wrappers sitting on the floor below. “D-D-Dad...” he said in a shaky, almost-inaudible hiss. His eyes darted this way and that, obviously looking for others who knew what was happening.
“No one here's caught on. They will, if you can't figure out how to squash this shit out in two minute's time,” Casey said.
“To-o-rri-i-in!” Jimmy, looking a little buzzed, approached, his arm being slung over the boy's shoulders. It almost knocked Torrin over; the boy's eyes were set on the female-version of his father as Jimmy waved his Heineken Casey's way. “Like I went hic! to asked Mikey there, who's the babe?”
“I'm gonna puke,” Mike muttered, indeed looking a little flushed as he put his hand over his mouth and turned away.
“She-She's my c-cousin, she's married!” Torrin blurted.
“Whoa! Okay, steppin', I'm steppin'...”
As Jimmy wandered off, holding his hands up in surrender while chortling, Casey sighed again. “You're running out of time. Your father's waiting for me outside, a few houses down. Better come up with something, and quick,” he said.
“D...Dad, I'm... I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean... for this... t-to happen!” Torrin stammered, moving in close to keep things quiet.
“But it did, didn't it?”
The flurry of movement from Mike made them both look over. The boy was now holding his phone up to one ear, the other being blocked by his finger. “What?? Oh SHIT, no way! Seriously?? Fuck!” he all but yelled. It caught everyone's attention for the moment; before that moment passed, Mike held up his hands and waved his arms around. “GUYS! Everyone!! The cops-they got called!! Cops!”
“Cops?”
“Huh?”
“But my brownies... wait, cops?”
Torrin looked this way and that as people began panicking and scattering. “Mikey, we got cops??”
“NO, you douchebag!” Mike hissed before jetting off to other parts of the house. Casey grinned wide and proud as more yells about “COPS!” and “EVERYONE, get the fuck out, the cops are comin'!” were made throughout the place. Feeling a little more at ease, Casey reached into his purse, got a cigarette out for himself and lit it; he leaned back against the sink, glad to see the chaos of everyone making their escape. It didn't matter if some were giggling excitedly and grabbing at what was left in coolers, pizza boxes and snack bowls. The only thing Casey was concerned about was the music coming to a dead-stop, being replaced by random shouts...
“SCREW the game, man, let's get the hell out!”
“Oh my GOD, where's my purse?? Hailey, did you see my--”
“I have it, let's GO!”
“I can't find my keys, fuck! Where are my-oh, they're in my pocket!”
There was no music more soothing at the moment than this group of teenagers' collective panic and rush to escape possible lock-up. Casey took a long drag from his cigarette and let it out in a thick, unending stream. Once the gasps and yells died down to nothing, Mike returned, looking like a shell-shocked soldier just returned from war. “It... was all I could think of...” he mumbled.
“Good job, Mikey. Good job,” Casey said. He looked between the two boys a few times before smacking his lips. “Well, now. Quite an exciting night.”
“Dad...” Torrin started; he turned his head Casey's way but didn't raise his eyes to look at him directly. Whether it was from the shame of his being caught or not wanting to get any more insight as to how good his father looked as a woman-or both, didn't matter to Casey. “I really... really, REALLY did NOT plan it like this... it just... happened.”
“Like your BFF told me, though; you're a popular guy, Tory. It was inevitable,” Casey said.
“How bad is it?” Torrin asked.
“How bad's what?”
“How long and hard am I grounded for?”
Casey took another puff, smiled... “You're not grounded, sweetie. You just-owe us. BIG time. And...” Casey waved an arm around the room. “I'd say that you and Mikey here have some serious clean-up to get done.”
“Yea. 'Course, yea...” Torrin said.
“Are... are you gonna tell my parents?” Mike asked with all the worry in the world.
“Your mom knows. I wanted to take a test-run as 'Candy', see how convincing I was. I told her why, and we agreed-if I showed up like this, that was punishment enough,” Casey replied. He slung his purse over his shoulder, stood straight and beamed. “Oh-and I WAS convincing. Quite.”
Mike nodded. “'K.”
“A'right, then. We've got a vaca to get to, and--” Casey went to say, but the sudden loud clunking noises past the opened back door made them all jump. They looked over and found Max standing at the bottom step, a large silver keg shining just past him on the grass.
“Hey, dudes, I'm here! I got the keg, and for fuckin' CHEAP and... hey. What's goin' on, where's the party?”
~*~
Three Hours Later
Torrin dumped the last trash bag into the city-sent barrel and made a loud, deep groan. Every muscle ached, his head pounding. Feeling like a deflated balloon, he trudged back to the house and went in. “That's the last bag,” he told Mike, who was closing the dishwasher.
“Good. Lotta fuckin' trash for a one-hour party...”
“No shit. Ugh.” Torrin shuffled over to the kitchen table where his Pepsi was waiting for him. He took one tiny sip then let his face rest on his arm. “Never again. Never the fuck again.”
“Yea.” Mike cleared his throat and leaned on the kitchen counter; he had a lost, confused look about him. He'd had a lost, confused look about him since Casey had made his exit, leaving them to a night of massive clean-up. “Hey, Tor?”
“What?”
“I... if I don't say this, it's gonna haunt me for the rest of my damned life. I mean, like y'know... like, when people repress memories and shit?”
Torrin lifted his head and shot an incredulous look his friend's way. “The hell are you talking about?”
“Don't get mad at me. 'K?”
“Mad about what-“
“Your dad was fuckin' hot. I don't check out guys and shit, but I came so fuckin' close to asking him out...”
Torrin groaned and let his head fall back on his arms. “Good FUCK, shut up!” he yelled into the table.
“Sorry. It's just... come on. He was scary-convincing, and--”
“MIKEY. For. Real.”
Mike sucked his lips in and raised his eyebrows. He looked to be shutting-up, but when he muttered, “Just sayin', dude...” Torrin shook his head, groaned again then slammed back the rest of his soda in one big gulp.
~*~
Two Weeks Later
“O-o-oh-kay! Everyone got their burgers?”
Torrin turned his glare to Casey, who was wearing a bright grin as he fiddled with the computer-to-TV hookup. “It's really nice outside. Shouldn't we eat this stuff on the porch?” he said.
“Sorry, honey; I've been dying to get this slideshow going, worked on it all day,” Casey said.
“Uh huh.” Torrin stared at the wires and machinery; no matter his lack of a belief-system he began praying to whatever deity could exist out there, whatever could stop this from happening. But the family's agnosticism was rewarded when the screen went blue and a title-still came on:
Party To P-Town: The Connor-Tyler Getaway!
“This is gonna be fun,” Jessie said, settling in next to her husband with her big plate full of food. She looked to the coffee table and hummed. “Mikey, sweetie... can you grab me the salt over there?”
Mike, who sat on Torrin's left, grunted as he reached to the shaker then handed it off. He settled back in and looked to Torrin. “How long is it?” he asked.
“Like Dad said, he'd been working on it all day...” Torrin said with dread in his voice.
“Did someone miss getting their corn? This was left on the grill...” Zeke, coming from the kitchen hallway said while waving a piece of corn around.
“Oh! Yea, forgot,” Steve said.
“'K, are we ready?”
Jessie, Steve and Zeke nodded and grinned, while the boys sat motionless on the floor. Casey beamed and hit 'PLAY'.
“Oh, here we GO...” Torrin said in a shout, throwing his head back when the first feature started-video, and not of a drag-competition or ocean waves, but the infamous party.
“Hey! Siddown, boy,” Jessie barked at Mike, who'd made a move to get up. The boy stilled then slumped back down.
“Do I gotta?” he said.
“It's either we watch the WHOLE slideshow, or your butt's grounded for two weeks,” Steve said.
There was nothing for it. Torrin propped his head up with his hand and watched the madness play out. From the craziness on the porch all the way to Casey's going in and getting chatted-up by Mike, it was nothing but pure embarrassment. Mike looked ready to melt into the floorboards and hide away forever in a dark, secluded corner of the basement when his, “I'M fun,” pick-up line disaster came on; his parents' hooting and laughing, Steve slapping his shoulders as they did wasn't helping.
Yet something odd happened when they got to the 'Big Reveal' in the kitchen. As Torrin watched himself go pale onscreen, reliving the panic, fear and mind-melting terror as to what was going on, a smile began tickling his lips. “Oh god,” he muttered through the hand covering his mouth when Mike bravely put an end to the party and the hollering became deafening. Soon, Max arrived; the poor idiot, having to lug the stupid keg back into his brother's truck, panicking himself when he was told that the cops were coming at any moment.
“Who squealed?!” was his main and only concern, getting, “Dunno dude, just get that shit outta here,” as a reply. The next few minutes consisted of Casey hurrying back to the car, gasping and guffawing the whole way.
“How'd it go, how'd it go?”
“Drive! Go, go!”
Torrin cocked an eyebrow as 'Candy', his own goddamned sort-of-father turned the camera around to fill the screen with his perfectly-makeup'ed face. “We LOVE you, Tory! See you when we get back... and remember, you AND Mikey will be watching the slideshow with us this time! Ta-ta!” with a kiss blown, the video ended with a swoop of neon colors and the word FIN! splashed over the screen.
“Brava, brava!” Jessie cheered, her and Steve clapping away as if they'd just paid witness to a world-famous opera.
“That was great. Well, I'm beat...” Torrin said, adding a yawn and a stretch. Before he could try to make his getaway, however, Zeke slapped a hand down onto his shoulder and patted it, hard.
“Now, now. There's PLENTY more,” he said. “So sit.”
~*~
“Thanks, sweetie,” Casey said as he passed Torrin, who'd just finished filling the dishwasher.
“It's my job, ain't it?”
“I didn't say 'thanks' for the dishwashing,” Casey replied, clipping chip bags closed and putting them in the walk-in pantry. “I said 'thanks' for sitting through the whole show without kicking holes into the living room floor.”
Torrin couldn't help himself from cracking a tiny smirk. “You warned me that if I didn't watch and behave, I'd be taking a grounding for my busted-up party,” he said.
“Well, was it really as bad as you thought it'd be? Hmm?” Casey asked.
“Well...” Torrin grabbed a soda from the fridge, thinking. There were a few 'bads' involved in tonight's presentation. Even if he'd seen his father's 'Candy' act, firsthand, it was still a little stomach-turning getting to see that act in pictures-an act performed onstage with many other men-turned-women, glitter, lights and a few risque shots thrown in. Casey had said he'd made the slideshow 'clean', which was unsettling considering what he HAD included. Any images that included dildos and makeouts that looked like sex in public weren't what Torrin considered chaste. Still... “'Guess not,” Torrin finally replied. His smile, however shy, grew. “I'm not saying I'd ever GO with you guys to one of those weirdo-shows, but-it looked like a fun time.”
“Oh, it was, it was,” Casey said. He finished the pantry tasks and moved to the fridge for a drink, choosing a beer. He cracked it open, took a hearty gulp or two then smacked his lips, saying, “I guess they're having another end-of-summer contest, bigger than this one. Dad wants to head-out for that one, too.”
“Hah... greeeat,” Torrin drawled.
“I'm not for it. After all... I finally, finally took gold. I'll let someone else have it,” Casey said, winking. “But don't worry. I'll be bringing my trophy back up to the office, instead of keeping it out for all your friends to see.”
Torrin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Dad... just... don't worry about it. If you wanna put it on the mantlepiece with neon lights around it, go ahead.”
“Aw. Maybe. Thanks, Tory.” Casey moved in to give Torrin a one-armed squeeze and kiss to the temple. “Now, why don't you and Mikey go out to the park a while, let me, Dad and the Milton crew enjoy the night.”
“But... my curfew's up in just over an hour.”
“I know. You can have a small extension tonight.”
“But--”
“There's more to the slideshow, stuff you won't want to be around for.”
Torrin paled and stood straight. “MIKEY! Come... c'mon, let's go out for some b-ball at the park...” he yelled, rushing back to the living room. He could hear his father's snickering the whole way.
I've had this lil' ditty going on for a while, eking out bits here and there over the last month or so. I FINALLY finished it. :D It's a Torrin!verse, one I'd told moit AGES ago that she'd like but never explained/expanded on. So. :D
Title: Just Like You: Candy
Pairing/Characters: C/Z, Torrin!verse
Rating: NC-17
Very-Slight-Warning(s): crossdressing
Genre: AU, future!fic
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: The traditional vaca Casey and Zeke take every summer makes a slight detour, due to their son's shenanigans.
There were two more days until Casey and Zeke descended on P-Town, but the excitement of the trip was starting to swell to epic proportions. With Casey taking the whole summer off, he had plenty of time to pack, plan, pack and pack. He wasn't usually a neurotic fool, but when it came to trips?
“Mmkay...” he muttered to himself as he set down his largest suitcase by the door. The check-list of all the things he wanted to bring in this one were there, so he moved onto 'Case #2'. THIS was one he needed to be the most astute with, the one that would hold the most important items-even if the items inside would only be used one night out of the seven he and Zeke were to enjoy. Maybe, just maybe, Casey would be tempted to make it TWO nights...
“Hey, Dad?”
Casey looked away from the closet to the hall, where Torrin had appeared. “Hey, Tory,” he said with a smile. “Enjoying your first day of summer-vaca?”
“Yea, loads. 'Just wondering... is it okay if I spent the night at Mike's tonight?” Torrin asked.
“Sure, that's fine.”
“Cool. We're gonna head to the park and meet the guys, hang out and stuff. Mind if I hop on your computer to check facebook and let 'em know I'm in? My laptop's still acting like a jerk.”
“Sure, go ahead... and what time is Mike's curfew?” Casey asked pointedly. Torrin rolled his eyes, but smiled.
“Midnight, same as me,” he said.
“Good. I know Steve and Jessie are just as gestapo as we are, so you're good,” Casey replied.
“Cool. So... packing already, huh?” Torrin said, nodding to the suitcases.
“No harm in being prepared, is there?”
Torrin shrugged. “You know that Dad's gonna throw his crap in a plastic bag and be done with it,” he said.
“Not after LAST year when he forgot his precious hair-care items,” Casey replied with a chuckle. When he returned to the closet and began pulling out his 'special box', Torrin groaned.
“Oh god, you aren't... tell me you aren't.”
“Whaaat?” Casey drawled. “I do it EVERY year.”
“And you're gonna try to get me to keep my eyes open when you show off THAT part in your stupid slideshow again, huh? Well, bring the stapler, cos' I'm not going down without a fight,” Torrin said with Zeke's famous smirk on his face.
“I don't know why your panties get in a bind over it. It's fun. Jessie loves that part the most when they come by to watch it,” Casey said.
Torrin made a long, dramatic sigh, shook his head then left for Casey's office. After a good ten minutes, Casey heard the boy's cell phone ringing.
“Yea, I'm comin'--wait, now? But I... oh, for real?”
Casey heard his excited chattering, brought on by Mike's telling him they'd be heading to the park early-there WAS a cheerleading competition going on in the tech school's field, which was right next to the park. The hormone-raging boys couldn't miss out on that opportunity, of course. It wasn't long before Torrin was saying, “On my way!” then zooming out of the office to the stairs, calling, “See ya!”
“And love ya,” Casey called back.
“That too!”
'Teenagers,' Casey thought as he brought the box out to the bed and lifted the cover. A smile spread over his face; oh, yes.
~*~
As Casey had predicted, Zeke wasn't taking any chances this trip. Instead of the plastic-bags he usually used as luggage, he was currently showing off the new set of suitcases he'd picked up at T.J. Maxx. “Got 'em on the cheap,” he said of the brand new shiny dark red cases.
“Cool. Next trip I'll do the same. This set's getting kinda junky,” Casey said, motioning to his own, older cases. With that task finished, he flopped onto the bed on his back. “God, this is gonna be nice.”
“Yup. AND we don't have to bother with airfare,” Zeke said, making Casey frown and put his head up to look at him.
“Huh? Provincetown's what, a few miles that way?” Casey said, pointing north. “We drive there, doofus.”
“No-I meant for Tory.” Zeke went to the bureau, smiling wide. “No shuffling him off to Stokes and Stanny's.”
“Ohh...” Casey sighed and moved back down to stare at the ceiling. “Yea, that...”
“You ain't nervous still, are ya?” Zeke asked.
Casey shrugged. “A little. He IS only seventeen, and we're gone for a week. I dunno. I just keep coming up with these disastrous scenarios, the house burning down, whatever else.”
“Yea, and like you just said-we're gonna be a couple hours away. And really, he's a trustworthy kid,” Zeke said. He tossed a few shirts on the bed by Casey's feet, saying, “He's not into big booze parties or drugs, his friends are all nice guys... he'll do fine.”
“I guess. Oh, shit.”
“What?”
Casey sat up quick and hopped out of the room. “I gotta make sure we confirm our reservations,” he said. Now in his office, he sat down in front of his desktop computer and swirled the mouse around to get rid of the screensaver of bubbles. When the screen popped up, he groaned. “Tory left his facebook open again.”
“Ooh. What do we post under his name?” Zeke yelled back.
“Oh shut up, you're ter... ri...” Casey trailed off as he got a look at the first two posts. While he didn't make it a practice to spy on their son and get into his business, Torrin HAD left the page open for anyone to come across... and he had left the most interesting posts right there, where Casey could plainly see just what their 'trustworthy' young man was up to. “Zeke? Get in here.”
“What?” Zeke called, but was soon in the office wearing a frown. “What is it?”
Casey felt his face go hot as he pointed at the screen. Zeke came around to get a look; he, too, went red. “You gotta be kidding me...” he said as he scanned the text. “Scroll down, maybe it's a joke.”
Sniffing, Casey indeed moved the page down. “Ah. Lookit that, thirty-two comments. Let's take a read, shall we?” he said as he clicked the post itself to bring it all up.
Party at TCT's on Friday!!!! Mike's post in Torrin's wall read, inviting others to commiserate.
Max Sanders wut are the rents gone??
Torrin Connor-Tyler yeeeeeeea Mikey's planning a party at MY place apparently lol
Max Sanders awesomeeeee!!!
Torrin Connor-Tyler dood, we are NOT getting nuts, the dads'll murder me
Mike Milton oh CHILL it's gonna be fun
Nicky Barnes BYOB???/?
Torrin Connor-Tyler lol fuck I dunno, that can get me in some deep shit.
Max Sanders I know someone who can get the booze! Cummon it ain't a party without it.....
“God, not Max,” Zeke said of the nice-but-slightly-delinquent young man. He was the most troublesome of the group of friends, proving it in helping everyone booze up that fateful night when Torrin had called to say they were too drunk to drive home from the park. Casey shook his head and read on.
Nicky Barnes my sis just said that she can get a few of her hottie-friends down for it. W0000t!
Torrin Connor-Tyler I told Mikey we gotta keep shit to a dull roar. For all I know, the dads have a neighborhood-watch thing going on while they're gone.... so seriously this ain't an open-invite thing.
Hailey Burlington I am SOOOO down for a party, we gotta start summer RIGHT!!!!!!!! :))))
Patrick Sheldon omg Haylz, you gotta get the gymnastics chicks in on this!!!!
Hailey Burlington why so you can PERV on them all?? LMAO
Patrick Sheldon DUH
Mike Milton SECONDED (pat's party request)
Torrin Connor-Tyler lolol my dads find out about this shit and I'm in military school
“Damned right,” Casey said. The comments went on and on, every one detailing just what exactly a bunch of teenagers could get up-to when the authoritative figures of a household left them to their own devices. Casey slumped back in his chair and jerked back and forth. “Well then.”
“Jesus.” Zeke stood straight, lit a cigarette and let his first drag out in a heavy puff. “I'm getting on the horn, now. Fuck our spawn's plans with 'the guys' tonight, he's grounded to shit.”
“As Mikey said, 'seconded',” Casey replied. As visions of their son being dragged around the house by his ears went through his mind, Zeke got his cell out and began dialing. It was then that Casey's brain snapped into other, more devious scenarios; he sat up quick and held up his hand. “Wait! Wait, wait, wait...”
“What?” Zeke said.
“We're... going about this the wrong way.”
“What's the right way? C'mon, I'm looking forward to yelling at him.”
Casey gave his husband a deep, penetrative look. “What does Torrin fear the most when it comes to us grounding him?” he asked.
“Um... BEING grounded?” Zeke said.
“No. It's how creative we are about handing it over.”
~*~
Friday Afternoon
“Okay-last check before we go...”
“Dad, seriously.”
“The emergency numbers are on the fridge, including our motel's in case the cells die or whatever,” Casey said, ignoring his son's impatient protests. 'You just can't wait, can you?' he thought before going on, “We'll be calling every day to check-up on you, at any time. So keep your cell charged.”
“I know, I know,” Torrin said.
“No big parties, no booze, nothing. You have a nice stack of cash in your account for food or whatever else you need; if I get one tiny hint of suspicion, I'll check the bank account on Dad's laptop to see what purchases and-or big withdrawals show up,” Casey said. He pulled the handle of his suitcase up and held onto it, noticing how Torrin's eyes dropped down to look. “If something happens, Mike's parents are on alert and can help you-along with the Thompsons down the road.”
Torrin nodded fast. “Got it. Seriously, stop worrying,” he said, putting on his best and brightest 'good-boy' smile. Casey smiled back-for different reasons.
“I know. I trust you, Tory; you're a good boy,” Casey said to give another small stab of conscience. Though Torrin's smile stayed on, he averted his eyes and sighed.
“I'll be fine,” he said.
“Good.” Casey went in for a tight squeeze, made of half-love, half-'I'm gonna have SO much fun with you tonight, you little bastard.'
After Zeke put Casey's luggage into the trunk, he slammed it closed, came around to them and took his turn giving Torrin a hug. “'K, son; we're off. Be good,” he said.
“I will. You guys have fun gaying-it-up,” Torrin joked.
“That's what P-Town's for,” Casey said with another bright, unnaturally huge smile.
The young man stood back on the sidewalk to watch them get into the Mustang, back out of the drive then waved them off. Casey waved back, smiling as he said, “He doesn't suspect a thing, does he?”
“Mmm, nope. You were right...” Zeke lit a cigarette and turned to Casey, beaming. “...This IS gonna be a lot better than grounding him outright.”
“Yup. Anyway, traffic will be easier to deal with after dark; miss the crowds, all that shit,” Casey said. He grabbed Zeke's cigarettes from the console and lit one up for himself. The first drag came out in a slow hiss. “Hate dealing with that.”
“It works out for everyone, doesn't it?” Zeke replied, his chuckling sounding more like an evil cackle.
Per their original plans, they would've been going west to meet I-95 within the hour. Instead, Zeke took them east, heading to their favorite eatery, the 'Old Tymes Restaurant' to sit in wait. That waiting would be hard, but four hours from now at seven o'clock, they'd be making the promised call-home, letting Torrin know that they'd gotten to Provincetown safely. Torrin's party-plans were supposed to start around eight, and that call would make the nasty little man feel safe enough to crank up the music, open the doors and let anyone and everyone inside to enjoy the parent-less surroundings. Though Casey himself had never gotten the opportunity to be a reckless delinquent through overprotective parents and the lack of a social life, Zeke's history was different. These thoughts made him turn to Zeke with a smile. “Hey.”
“What?”
“Do you feel a little... guilty?” Casey asked. When Zeke shot him a confused frown, Casey chuckled and went on, “I mean, about crashing this party of Torrin's, being all parents and shit. Considering your history...”
“Ah, I see,” Zeke said. After stopping at the next red light, he took a heavy drag, sank back a little and shrugged. “Maybe a little-a very teensy-tiny bit. But hey, I AM his dad, right? Part of being 'Dad' is getting to humiliate their rotten kid when they pull shit.”
“True, true. So...” Casey trailed off and tried making some smoke rings before saying, “...When we DO show up to 'party down' with these miscreants, do we act like teenagers ourselves or pretend we're cops?”
“I thought we were gonna go with hopping in and somehow getting everyone to start a conga line?”
Casey laughed. “Well, yea... but... the second Torrin sees us, he's either gonna bolt or cry.”
“'Hope it's the former. I wanna let him know how deep in shit he is, not make him bawl in front of the entire team and hot girls,” Zeke replied.
Before Casey could reply, a small thump came from the trunk when Zeke sped off when the light went green. He swore he heard a scattering noise and worried. “Hey, can we stop a sec?”
“Why?”
“I think my 'special case' just threw up in the trunk.”
“I ain't stopping for that, Jesus.”
Casey rolled his eyes and went to complain, but his thoughts suddenly shifted. With the radio on low, he began thinking very deeply, contemplating just what kind of 'entrance' he and Zeke could make. Or really, just himself, no Zeke involved. “Hey, Zeke?” Casey muttered finally, just as they pulled into the restaurant's lot.
“Yea?” Zeke said.
“I want to... alter the deal.”
Zeke chortled. “Pray you don't alter it further?”
The geekery of the Star Wars referencing seemed apt; after all, Casey's thoughts were more evil than anything Darth Vader could ever come up with. “Instead of it being you and me crashing this crazy shindig... what if Candy did?” Casey said.
Zeke pulled into a row of unoccupied parking spots, eyes widening as he turned to Casey. “Whaaaat?” he said in a drawl.
“She's convincing enough, am I right?”
Zeke's jaw dropped as he stared at Casey. “Y-Yea? But... oh my fucking god...”
“It's perfect, isn't it? C'mon, say it ain't,” Casey said.
“He might see through it. Fuck, anyone there might, like Mikey and Pat, whoever else.”
“According to YOU, Candy's a pro. Am I right?”
Though Zeke smiled, he looked nervous. “I... dunno, that can be really fucking risky.”
Casey took a deep breath and gave his idea further thought. “Okay. How about we take... a test-run of sorts? Go around town, do a little... 'shopping'? After all, Candy only has ridiculous evening gowns and damned-near clown makeup. We'd need something more teenager-y.”
“I...” Zeke paused, shaking his head. The slight nervous expression faded, replaced with a look of admiration. “I fucking love you.”
Casey laughed and nodded back to the road. “C'mon. Let's hit T.J., then maybe the Sephora section at Penney's.”
“Oh, rich tastes, huh?” Zeke remarked as he put the car back in drive.
“Like I said-clown makeup's all Candy's got,” Casey said with a wink.
~*~
There were no other options; though Casey and Zeke had gotten telltale looks from the motel clerk after requesting a room with an hourly-rate, their 'Candy' idea couldn't be put-together in a McDonald's restroom. Casey needed a lot more space, time and most importantly, privacy.
The shopping for this new plan was pulled off without a hitch, as well. They made the stop at JC Penney first, deciding to get everything there instead of also dropping by TJ's. Though Zeke knew 'Candy's' size, Casey couldn't let him go-it alone. It was a little risky, but the cover-story about shopping for their niece's high school graduation present had made the woman at the Sephora shop and sales clerk checking them out smile, both of them saying that she was a 'lucky girl'. The cosmetics and clothing they'd picked out would definitely make any young lady gasp, smile and hop around happily.
It was hard for Casey to contain himself himself. Even if this wasn't a common practice, even if this only happened one weekend a year, he was all-too-pleased as he laid everything out on the bathroom counter, clothes hanging from the shower curtain's rod. Zeke had begged to watch, but nothing-doing; this was Casey's own time, something personal and fun for he alone. He rather liked giving Zeke this small surprise, and even though the circumstances were different, the act was still the same. With a soft sigh of contemplation, Casey turned to the clothing first.
No drag queen style with these items. Instead of the usual sequins, rhinestones and other garish additions, Casey had gone with a college girl's pink shirt, cut perfectly to show off a curvy frame. He didn't HAVE those curves, but it was sure to make 'Candy' look pretty and perfect. The pink, white and baby-blue plaid pleated skirt, short enough to show off the thigh-highs but long and poofy enough to hide any 'evidence' was just as lovely. Simple black Mary Janes made the picture complete. However pleased Casey was, he did have a few doubts.
This plan would be aborted in an instant should he really not pass as Candy the College Girl. He made Candy the Drag Princess gorgeous, perfect for a Provincetown gay club's 'amateur night'. Casey may have had a stunningly youthful face, even at age forty-one, but could he really, truly and honestly pass as a twenty-something? That was about to be revealed and confirmed through hard work and precision.
The new lacy, dark-pink bra came first, along with the falsies. Given how much he'd spent on the things, they'd better make this work. After a few tugs, pulls and clasps being done, he looked into the mirror. 'Check,' he muttered in his mind before slipping the shirt on. He smiled wide, seeing how it hugged his chest while the sides flared out a little to create curves on a straight frame. He turned halfway to the left then to the right. 'Check,' he thought again.
Thigh-highs came next; the stretchy tops braced comfortably over his legs, no muffin-topping involved. Once done with those, Casey took the skirt and slid it up, up then buttoned. Again, it was a great fit. Not trying things on could be risky, and he couldn't have dared do this in Penney's fitting room. He scanned the entire outfit and sighed. “Checkity-check,” he muttered aloud.
Makeup could be tricky, but Sephora was expensive for a reason. Instead of ghastly-but-fun reds and blues, cheap liner and mascaras that could make him look like a raccoon a mere hour after being applied, the light pink and blue of the eyeshadow went on with ease, smoothing over his lids. His expertise and precision was appreciated, bringing perfect accentuation to his face. Eyeliner, mascara... 'I'm shopping there forever,' Casey thought. Making this a habit would definitely secure first place at every amateur night, for sure. According to Zeke, those contests HAD to be rigged when Casey had only gotten one third place position then two seconds in the last three years. Casey didn't have to be a twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week crossdressing queen to get that crown. Just the annual one-night pageant, where he could let-loose and have fun, screw the naysayers. This year was first place all the way, or someone was going to land in the hospital.
After applying the most gorgeous shade of deep pink to his lips, Casey bent back and stared. He was most definitely not forty-one right now, no; if he were to take a stroll on campus like this, no one, colleague or student, would recognize him. He'd been seen as a fashionable, pretty twenty-something-perhaps even a freshman. 'Okay, not THAT good,' he thought. Still, this was good enough for a teen's 'no parents' party. It was time for the finishing touch; Casey smiled at the new wig he'd gotten the week before. It fit both drag-queen AND college princess just fine, with the long chestnut strands accentuated with blonde highlights made for all-purpose occasions. Casey slicked back his hair with gel, let it sit a moment then positioned the wig, pinning it on with plenty of hairpins. This was where he was the most fussy and precise, of course. Out of everything, the quality of a wig was most important-and this one was very simply it.
“Check,” he murmured at his mirrored image. Casey was long-gone, lost behind the most girlish, prettiest person. However distinct the blue of his eyes were, something that could easily be a 'tip-off' to those who knew him, the cosmetics around them provided serious cover. He made a few more turns, strained to get a look at his backside ('Having a butt-bump thing would come in handy, oh well,' he thought at his ass) then packed everything back into his case. That done, he went to the door for the first, most important opinion.
Zeke snapped his eyes away from the TV to Casey in an instant. Casey smiled wide, lifted his arms then turned himself around. “Well?” he said.
Standing slowly, Zeke rolled his tongue around in his mouth and shook his head. “Hello, Candy,” he said, voice low and almost gritty.
“I take it I pass?” Casey asked.
“Mmhmm. Professor Tyler gives you an A... A-plus if he gets to mess up the makeup.”
“Fuck you, no-not after the time spent putting it on.”
“Pssh. Sure, Delilah,” Zeke teased. He let out a heavy breath. “What do I gotta do to make this happen, like... every other day?”
Casey shook his head and smirked. “You're supposed to be a proud gay man, sweetie.”
“Yea, but...”
“Let's take a test drive.”
Zeke sighed sadly, picked up his keys and went to the door. “Cock tease,” he muttered.
~*~
The two young men working the McDonald's counter had confirmed 'Candy' even more than Casey could've hoped for. Their gooey-eyed looks, stupid grins and muttered conversation-loud enough for Casey to hear the words 'babe' and 'fuckin' hot!' were a joy to witness. Casey's well-practiced, lilting voice gave the boy serving him a sweet “Thank you, honey,” before taking his bag of fries and pies and heading back out to the lot.
“Well?” Zeke said once Casey was in the passenger seat.
“Better leave quick; the boys in there might fight you for me,” Casey replied. Chortling heavily, Zeke backed out of the spot and went to leave the shopping plaza. Before he could turn left toward the main exit, Casey slapped his arm lightly. “Wait, wait-the Bon Ton.”
“What, forget to pick up something lacy to go under that skirt?” Zeke asked, adding, “CAN we pick up something lacy to go under-”
“Jessie works every Friday night... and she's always wanted to see this in-person.”
Zeke blinked furiously then signaled right, heading to the lot in front of the shop. “I wonder if she'll recognize you...”
“Should I see... like, pretend 'Candy's' shopping for perfume?”
“Hells yea.”
Casey giggled like a schoolgirl; Zeke cringed and made a quick grab at his crotch, shaking his head slowly. “You're too good at that,” Zeke told him.
“So? You're GAY, remember?” Casey replied coyly.
“It's not that, it's you being all... like this, and... forget it.” Zeke shook his head and pulled up to the curb in front of the store. “I'll wait in the lot; seeing me with you might give it all away.”
“Yea, I'd thought on that. Back in a bit!” With a blown kiss and yet another giggle, Casey slipped out of the car, shut the door and faced the Bon Ton with a steely expression. It took until Zeke pulled away to find a spot for him to dare walk to the entrance and go inside.
The expectation to be noticed as a guy in drag couldn't be helped, and made Casey look around the place for any suspicious glances. It wasn't very busy, which he was glad for. He'd need Jessie's full and undivided attention, after all. When he passed by a clerk hanging blouses on a rack, she looked up at him, smiled then turned back to her work. No double-take or dropped jaw-so far, so good. Casey tried easing his gait, making his steps slow instead of striding along like the man he was. The purse he held was brought to his front and held tight as he finally reached the cosmetics area. There Jessie was, arranging a display of Chanel bottles. 'Let's do this...' Casey thought as he got to the glass counter a foot or two away from her. “Hi,” he said in a light, airy voice.
“Oh... hello, there!” Jessie smiled wide and stopped fussing with the glittering glass bottles to go over. For a moment, Casey swore he saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes; there was a flinch, a pause... “Ah-choo!” she belted out a sneeze and groaned. “Oh, so sorry, honey... this new line from Chanel's not cooperating with my nose.”
Casey let a smile shake onto his pink lips. “Don't tell me you're allergic. You'll be out of a job.”
Jessie chuckled and shook her head. “Oh no, no-this is the only one that's done this. Otherwise, I'm the expert,” she said.
“Good. Cos'... well, I need something extra-special.”
“Ooh. Hot date?” Jessie said, even waggling her eyebrows a little bit. Casey felt high in her total ignorance as he nodded.
“Yea, kinda. I'm... looking for something a little... sweet? Not too strong?” he said.
“Well, let's see what we can do...”
Amazing. Casey followed along, listening to the woman's advice and suggestions. He was given slips of paper sprayed with various scents for him to sniff, making thoughtful hums and shrugs along the way. As Jessie drew out a few more choices, she gave him a grin. “So... what is a 'kinda hot date', anyway?” she asked.
“Oh. Well, I've been with the guy a while now, actually,” Casey said. “But our anniversary is coming up.”
“Really? Well, congratulations! You're in it for the long haul, huh?”
“Mmm, definitely.”
Jessie chuckled again as she next drew out a pretty star-shaped number filled with periwinkle blue liquid. “Let's try this one, 'Angel'. It's a really soft, sweet scent with notes of chocolate.”
“Ooh...” Casey smiled and took the paper she'd sprayed up to his nose. It really was lovely. Deciding this would be a great time to drop hints, he nodded and said, “Zeke will just love this one.”
Jessie paused, blinking wildly a moment before smiling. “Hah, I know a Zeke... not your type, however.”
It was too damned much. Casey leaned in closer. “He's exactly my type, hon,” he said, his voice going to normal now to let the new information sink in fully. Sink in it did; Jessie's eyes snapped back to him and her expression was indescribable. Her jaw dropped down slowly, eyes widening quick.
“You... you're, no-no, Casey??”
“Shh!”
Jessie scoffed, over and over again until she leaned in, squealing. “Oh my god! It's really YOU under all of that??” she asked, aghast.
“I hope so, 'hate to think if putting on a skirt erases my manhood...” Casey retorted.
“You... you're fucking gorgeous!” she said in an urgent hiss. As Casey held back a whoop of laughter, Jessie shook her head vehemently. “No, seriously, I thought you were some silly college girl ready to blow the wad on a perfume for her dumb boyfriend to like!”
“It IS nice. And it'd offer some realism.” Casey reached into his purse. “How much for your smallest bottle?”
“Screw that, here's a couple samples!”
Casey snorted as the woman grabbed a few sample-vials and slid them over the counter to him. Rolling his eyes, he tossed them into his purse quickly. “Thanks, sweetie.”
“So what, are you dressing up before you even get there? Just in case the car breaks down and you wanna get a 'good Samaritan' the quickest way you can?” she teased.
“Actually... okay. If I tell you, you can't butt-in.”
“Tell me what?”
Sighing again, Casey leaned in even closer. “Our kids are currently putting together a big ol' party at the Connor-Tyler household, a 'no parents' number.”
Jessie frowned. “Huh?”
“You heard.”
“But... Mikey said he and Tor were just gonna play video games and... are you sure?”
“Believe me, facebook doesn't lie. Torrin kinda forgot to close the window on the computer, let us see ev-ery-thing,” Casey replied.
“Ooh. That boy of mine, he is gonna GET it...” Jessie muttered in a gruff tone, but Casey shook his head and held up a hand.
“No, no. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. After tonight, they won't be pulling this crap again,” he said.
“How do... huh?”
“Let's just say... Candy's gonna crash that shit and make Torrin wish he was never born.”
“Oh. No. You aren't...”
“I am.”
“But-but if someone recognizes you! That...” Jessie paused to swallow, looking concerned but still wearing a grin. “Though-really, I'm not the most easily-bamboozled person on the planet. And you fooled the hell outta me.”
“I'll be laying low for the most part. I'm just gonna wander in, ask for the host and let him figure out how he can cancel his get-together in a two-minute time frame,” Casey said.
“Oh. This is fantastic. I wish I could be there... oh! PLEASE say you're taking video with your phone, something??”
Casey blinked furiously. He hadn't thought of that, though he didn't know why. He reached into his purse and dug out his phone. “I guess I could pretend I'm texting, right?” he said, which made Jessie squeal with devious delight.
“Please, please, please!” she said.
“I'll try. Just... one thing.” Casey sighed and smiled, making it soft instead of evil. “We're considering this Torrin's punishment, all in one-go. Don't be too hard on Mikey?”
Jessie took a deep breath and thought a moment. “Well... we'll see. It really depends on if you catch my brat funneling or some crap like that.”
“We'll see is right,” Casey said, and with that, he gave Jessie a quick squeeze to the hand, turned and walked off. Coming here had been the best idea ever, as the confidence he felt in this 'talent' of his was sky-high, now.
~*~
“Well, he didn't waste any time, did he?” Zeke said as he and Casey gazed through the windshield at their house. It didn't matter that they were keeping their distance, not wanting anyone to catch sight of the Connor-Tyler's way-too-familiar car. Even from four houses down, the signs of celebration were evident through the many cars lining the curbs, the faint sound of hard-hitting bass music and teenagers ambling around the front yard, drive and porch area. Casey sighed and shook his head.
“It's a surprise the cops aren't here already,” he said.
Zeke clucked his tongue and looked to Casey. “And Jessie said that she didn't have one fucking clue, right?”
“What, getting cold feet?”
“Just wanna be sure. Damn, that stuff smells good on you.”
Casey snorted and flicked the small torn-open packet that held the Angel hand-cream sample Jessie had given him. “It's nice, but don't get used to it. Remember-this is a once-a-year thing.”
“Yea, yea...” Zeke muttered. He rubbed his mouth for a few moments before sniffing out a few chuckles. “It's now or never, babe.”
“'Guess so.” Casey shifted in his seat and did a few last-minute things: iPhone camera ready-to-shoot: check. Makeup flawless: check. Wig still straight, even and gorgeous: check. Before a case of nerves could set-in, Casey opened the car door and stepped out onto the walk. He bent down, stuck his upper half in and grinned. “Kiss for luck?”
Zeke grinned and leaned in to give Casey the best 'good luck' kiss that ever existed... almost too good, making Casey pull back before the cosmetics could disappear. “I'll be waiting,” Zeke said in a dreamy voice.
'Now or never...' Casey repeated in his mind as he straightened his outfit, shut the door and began walking down to their place. Though he'd perfected the art of walking in heels by now, he was glad to have chosen the slippers; his knees felt strained and tight as he approached, as if his legs were fighting this to get him to turn around, run off and pretend this never happened. His brain, however, kept whirring... kept convincing him that this was going to be the most epic, most daring and most unforgettable event in their little boy's life. By the time he reached the last row of hedges that separated #66 and their house, #68, Casey was determined, shown in his even steps and slight wobble of hips, emulating a young girl's stride immaculately.
However difficult it was to maintain a cool, unbothered and even pleased expression in coming across the group of boys standing in the yard playing hackeysack, a beer in each hand while a group of girls watched, Casey managed it. He also managed to make one of the guys, a boy he didn't know, do a double-take at him then stare, long enough to miss the colorful cloth ball kicked his way. “Hi,” Casey dared to say in the best voice he could muster.
“Hey,” the boy said.
“C'mon, Billy!” another boy in the ring of friends said and their game resumed. Casey sighed shakily and went up the steps-HIS steps, needing to turn to the side in order to pass through the large group of people gathered on the porch. 'Keeping this to a 'dull roar', my ass,' Casey thought. The urge to yell, “Outta my way, this is MY HOUSE!” was overwhelming, especially when two girls came stumbling out and almost straight into him, both of them giggling and talking about some boy they didn't like who'd shown up. “'Scuse me,” Casey managed to mutter through a smile, the gritted teeth behind it tensing his jaw.
“Who's that girl?” one of the girls asked her friend.
Casey cocked an eyebrow and left them to wonder as he finally entered the 'inner sanctuary'... HIS house, which he was surprised was still standing, considering what was going on. Torrin was usually respectful when it came to his music of choice-bone-crushing dubstep, but that was when 'the 'rent's' were home. The windows would need some work due to the volume of the stereo being up to the 'bleeding ears' setting Casey didn't know it had. He paused at the archway that led into the living room and did a quick inventory.
There were a few more beers being suckled upon, but not as many as he'd feared. While a boy and girl were looking a little-bit-too-cozy on the loveseat on the far side of the room, everyone still had their clothes on. Two boys were sitting on the floor, a girl on each side as they played an intense racing game on Torrin's Xbox, hooting and hollering as they battled it out.
“Oh my GOD, I love your skirt!”
It took a light tug at Casey's skirt to make him realize that someone had been talking to him. He flicked his eyes to the left and found a young blonde girl standing there, smiling at his outfit. “Oh... um...”
“Where'd you get it? I saw one at Forever 21 like this, SO wanted to pick it up!” she said.
“Um... yea, yea, that's... it,” Casey said, adding a giggle. “I live in that store.”
“Oh my god, me too,” the girl said. Casey had to hold back a wince and snarl when she lifted a beer to her lips, took a few gulps then asked, “Do you go to Norwich High??”
“Oh. No, I'm... a friend of Torrin's from... Mystic.”
“Mystic?”
The next familiar voice Casey heard gave him a moment of pure, undiluted panic. Through sheer will, he turned to the right and found Mike, who was giving Casey an inquisitive stare. “Yea... yea, we met at one of his games... he had. At Mystic High,” he managed to reply.
“Oh. Hah, I'm on the team, too, don't remember you,” Mike said.
Oh god. He didn't know. He really didn't fucking know. Casey glanced down to the boy's hands, expecting to find a half-empty bottle of tequila, but a can of root beer was there instead. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Casey raised his hand and grinned. “Candy. And...?”
“Mike; pleased to meet ya.” Mike took his hand and gave it a very light shake. “Candy, huh? Thassa name.”
“Mom ate nothing but sweet stuff when she was pregnant... it made sense.” It wasn't a lie, at any rate...
“If that's how it works, my name woulda been 'Rice Pudding',” Mike said with a guffaw. Casey giggled along while glancing around the room.
“This is soooome party,” he said.
“Well, when your name's Torrin Connor-Tyler, it's expected.”
“Oh yea?”
Mike made a sage nod, sipped some soda and said, “Yup. You don't win as many games for your school as HE does and not get serious respect. I guess I should say 'sorry'... we've kicked your school's asses a thousand times.”
“No big. Our teams suck,” Casey said. “Where is he, anyway?”
“He went out to the garage for a minute, looking for an extra trash can. Our friend Max just called-I guess he somehow snagged a kegger for this shit.” Mike smirked and rolled his eyes. “Tory tried to tell the guy to squash out THAT plan, but... Max wants to bring the party.”
This couldn't go on for much longer. 'Damn it, you guys...' Casey thought both Torrin and Mike's way. Even if they themselves didn't get plastered, all a pair of married men needed was some idiot kid cracking-up on the highway after a party being held by their stupid kid, bringing every single gay-hating organization to their doorstep to give the world an example of just how two men were not, in any way shape or form, able to raise a kid without it getting ugly. Casey's smile went wide, unreal. “So... how many are YOU gonna take in tonight?”
“Oh, well... eh, I'm not big on the whole... drinking thing,” Mike said. A pleasure to hear, but still... the boy gave Casey a once-over and let his smile grow. “Are you?”
“No, I just came... for the fun.”
Mike's own grin grew, sliding over his lips like smooth molasses. He nudged Casey's upper arm with his shoulder. “Mmm, well-I'M fun.”
Oh no. Not this. This REALLY couldn't go on. “I know, Mikey. But... if you wouldn't mind...” Casey cleared his throat, clucked his tongue and cocked an eyebrow. Putting Candy to the side, he said in his unquestionably-male voice, “I'd like to find my son and see what can be done about this situation he's just put you in.”
All Mike did for the next ten to twelve seconds was stare at Casey-Casey, not Candy, the 'girl' he'd just come dangerously close to hitting-on full-force. Casey relished every single shade of white he turned, until he was as pale as a ghost. “Mis... Mister...”
“Shh... shh-hh...” Casey put a finger to Mike's lips and shook his head slowly. He leaned in close and lowered his voice, enough to be heard over the music but quiet enough to stay secret. “No one here needs to know. I don't want them to know. But I'll have no choice but to make things really, really hard on Norwich's 'star player' if we don't find him. Now.”
Mike swallowed hard, eyelashes fluttering as if they'd become hummingbirds. He turned his head to the kitchen doorway in a jerk then began walking off. “H-He's... probably...” Mike said as Casey followed.
“Hey, Milton! Who's the babe??” One of the guys from the team-'Justin? Jack?' Casey scanned his memory of Torrin's games as they passed the boy watching them go-called out to Mike, who cringed. Hard.
“Not now, Jimmy... f-fuck...”
It was too good. Casey couldn't help but throw poor 'Jimmy' a coy smile, who gave Casey a more dumb, dopey version back. Now in the kitchen, Casey looked around. While the living room hadn't taken a hit, THIS room had. Half-empty boxes of pizza were on the kitchen island and floor, the one on the linoleum being stood upon by two girls who were looking at pictures on a phone together; glasses, bottles and cans of all kinds were everywhere; some kid was standing at the stove with a mixing bowl, saying something about brownies...
'Oh, FUCK no!' Casey thought when he saw a plastic bag full of something green on the counter.
“Torrin! TOR-rin!”
Mike's calling out made Casey snap his head up toward the back door. Sure enough, the sneaky little jerk was coming inside, shaking his head while talking to another boy from the team, Kevin. “They probably tossed the thing, it DID have a big ol' crack in it...”
“Tor! Rin!” Mike called again, sounding desperate.
“What? What's-oh, for fuck's sake, Carter!”
Casey watched as Torrin all but jumped over to the stove where pot-brownie-boy was standing. “I SAID, we can't do that shit here!” Torrin said.
“Aw, c'mon!” 'Carter' said.
“This thing's gotten outta fuckin' control...”
Mike set his jaw, grabbed Casey's elbow and pulled him with him to get to Torrin. “Tor. We got a problem.”
“What the fuck else is new? I TOLD you guys, this was supposed to be a small deal,” Torrin said. He looked to Casey, looked away-then back again. “Who...”
“Take a good. Fuckin'. Look.” Mike said.
Torrin stood there, mute and looking empty-headed as he stared at Casey. He knew-HAD to. Just in case there was any doubt, Casey sighed and leaned in close. “You should be more careful when you're hanging out on facebook on MY computer, pumpkin.”
Torrin's jaw shook open and lowered, until Casey swore it was going to come unhinged and land on the pile of discarded snack wrappers sitting on the floor below. “D-D-Dad...” he said in a shaky, almost-inaudible hiss. His eyes darted this way and that, obviously looking for others who knew what was happening.
“No one here's caught on. They will, if you can't figure out how to squash this shit out in two minute's time,” Casey said.
“To-o-rri-i-in!” Jimmy, looking a little buzzed, approached, his arm being slung over the boy's shoulders. It almost knocked Torrin over; the boy's eyes were set on the female-version of his father as Jimmy waved his Heineken Casey's way. “Like I went hic! to asked Mikey there, who's the babe?”
“I'm gonna puke,” Mike muttered, indeed looking a little flushed as he put his hand over his mouth and turned away.
“She-She's my c-cousin, she's married!” Torrin blurted.
“Whoa! Okay, steppin', I'm steppin'...”
As Jimmy wandered off, holding his hands up in surrender while chortling, Casey sighed again. “You're running out of time. Your father's waiting for me outside, a few houses down. Better come up with something, and quick,” he said.
“D...Dad, I'm... I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean... for this... t-to happen!” Torrin stammered, moving in close to keep things quiet.
“But it did, didn't it?”
The flurry of movement from Mike made them both look over. The boy was now holding his phone up to one ear, the other being blocked by his finger. “What?? Oh SHIT, no way! Seriously?? Fuck!” he all but yelled. It caught everyone's attention for the moment; before that moment passed, Mike held up his hands and waved his arms around. “GUYS! Everyone!! The cops-they got called!! Cops!”
“Cops?”
“Huh?”
“But my brownies... wait, cops?”
Torrin looked this way and that as people began panicking and scattering. “Mikey, we got cops??”
“NO, you douchebag!” Mike hissed before jetting off to other parts of the house. Casey grinned wide and proud as more yells about “COPS!” and “EVERYONE, get the fuck out, the cops are comin'!” were made throughout the place. Feeling a little more at ease, Casey reached into his purse, got a cigarette out for himself and lit it; he leaned back against the sink, glad to see the chaos of everyone making their escape. It didn't matter if some were giggling excitedly and grabbing at what was left in coolers, pizza boxes and snack bowls. The only thing Casey was concerned about was the music coming to a dead-stop, being replaced by random shouts...
“SCREW the game, man, let's get the hell out!”
“Oh my GOD, where's my purse?? Hailey, did you see my--”
“I have it, let's GO!”
“I can't find my keys, fuck! Where are my-oh, they're in my pocket!”
There was no music more soothing at the moment than this group of teenagers' collective panic and rush to escape possible lock-up. Casey took a long drag from his cigarette and let it out in a thick, unending stream. Once the gasps and yells died down to nothing, Mike returned, looking like a shell-shocked soldier just returned from war. “It... was all I could think of...” he mumbled.
“Good job, Mikey. Good job,” Casey said. He looked between the two boys a few times before smacking his lips. “Well, now. Quite an exciting night.”
“Dad...” Torrin started; he turned his head Casey's way but didn't raise his eyes to look at him directly. Whether it was from the shame of his being caught or not wanting to get any more insight as to how good his father looked as a woman-or both, didn't matter to Casey. “I really... really, REALLY did NOT plan it like this... it just... happened.”
“Like your BFF told me, though; you're a popular guy, Tory. It was inevitable,” Casey said.
“How bad is it?” Torrin asked.
“How bad's what?”
“How long and hard am I grounded for?”
Casey took another puff, smiled... “You're not grounded, sweetie. You just-owe us. BIG time. And...” Casey waved an arm around the room. “I'd say that you and Mikey here have some serious clean-up to get done.”
“Yea. 'Course, yea...” Torrin said.
“Are... are you gonna tell my parents?” Mike asked with all the worry in the world.
“Your mom knows. I wanted to take a test-run as 'Candy', see how convincing I was. I told her why, and we agreed-if I showed up like this, that was punishment enough,” Casey replied. He slung his purse over his shoulder, stood straight and beamed. “Oh-and I WAS convincing. Quite.”
Mike nodded. “'K.”
“A'right, then. We've got a vaca to get to, and--” Casey went to say, but the sudden loud clunking noises past the opened back door made them all jump. They looked over and found Max standing at the bottom step, a large silver keg shining just past him on the grass.
“Hey, dudes, I'm here! I got the keg, and for fuckin' CHEAP and... hey. What's goin' on, where's the party?”
~*~
Three Hours Later
Torrin dumped the last trash bag into the city-sent barrel and made a loud, deep groan. Every muscle ached, his head pounding. Feeling like a deflated balloon, he trudged back to the house and went in. “That's the last bag,” he told Mike, who was closing the dishwasher.
“Good. Lotta fuckin' trash for a one-hour party...”
“No shit. Ugh.” Torrin shuffled over to the kitchen table where his Pepsi was waiting for him. He took one tiny sip then let his face rest on his arm. “Never again. Never the fuck again.”
“Yea.” Mike cleared his throat and leaned on the kitchen counter; he had a lost, confused look about him. He'd had a lost, confused look about him since Casey had made his exit, leaving them to a night of massive clean-up. “Hey, Tor?”
“What?”
“I... if I don't say this, it's gonna haunt me for the rest of my damned life. I mean, like y'know... like, when people repress memories and shit?”
Torrin lifted his head and shot an incredulous look his friend's way. “The hell are you talking about?”
“Don't get mad at me. 'K?”
“Mad about what-“
“Your dad was fuckin' hot. I don't check out guys and shit, but I came so fuckin' close to asking him out...”
Torrin groaned and let his head fall back on his arms. “Good FUCK, shut up!” he yelled into the table.
“Sorry. It's just... come on. He was scary-convincing, and--”
“MIKEY. For. Real.”
Mike sucked his lips in and raised his eyebrows. He looked to be shutting-up, but when he muttered, “Just sayin', dude...” Torrin shook his head, groaned again then slammed back the rest of his soda in one big gulp.
~*~
Two Weeks Later
“O-o-oh-kay! Everyone got their burgers?”
Torrin turned his glare to Casey, who was wearing a bright grin as he fiddled with the computer-to-TV hookup. “It's really nice outside. Shouldn't we eat this stuff on the porch?” he said.
“Sorry, honey; I've been dying to get this slideshow going, worked on it all day,” Casey said.
“Uh huh.” Torrin stared at the wires and machinery; no matter his lack of a belief-system he began praying to whatever deity could exist out there, whatever could stop this from happening. But the family's agnosticism was rewarded when the screen went blue and a title-still came on:
Party To P-Town: The Connor-Tyler Getaway!
“This is gonna be fun,” Jessie said, settling in next to her husband with her big plate full of food. She looked to the coffee table and hummed. “Mikey, sweetie... can you grab me the salt over there?”
Mike, who sat on Torrin's left, grunted as he reached to the shaker then handed it off. He settled back in and looked to Torrin. “How long is it?” he asked.
“Like Dad said, he'd been working on it all day...” Torrin said with dread in his voice.
“Did someone miss getting their corn? This was left on the grill...” Zeke, coming from the kitchen hallway said while waving a piece of corn around.
“Oh! Yea, forgot,” Steve said.
“'K, are we ready?”
Jessie, Steve and Zeke nodded and grinned, while the boys sat motionless on the floor. Casey beamed and hit 'PLAY'.
“Oh, here we GO...” Torrin said in a shout, throwing his head back when the first feature started-video, and not of a drag-competition or ocean waves, but the infamous party.
“Hey! Siddown, boy,” Jessie barked at Mike, who'd made a move to get up. The boy stilled then slumped back down.
“Do I gotta?” he said.
“It's either we watch the WHOLE slideshow, or your butt's grounded for two weeks,” Steve said.
There was nothing for it. Torrin propped his head up with his hand and watched the madness play out. From the craziness on the porch all the way to Casey's going in and getting chatted-up by Mike, it was nothing but pure embarrassment. Mike looked ready to melt into the floorboards and hide away forever in a dark, secluded corner of the basement when his, “I'M fun,” pick-up line disaster came on; his parents' hooting and laughing, Steve slapping his shoulders as they did wasn't helping.
Yet something odd happened when they got to the 'Big Reveal' in the kitchen. As Torrin watched himself go pale onscreen, reliving the panic, fear and mind-melting terror as to what was going on, a smile began tickling his lips. “Oh god,” he muttered through the hand covering his mouth when Mike bravely put an end to the party and the hollering became deafening. Soon, Max arrived; the poor idiot, having to lug the stupid keg back into his brother's truck, panicking himself when he was told that the cops were coming at any moment.
“Who squealed?!” was his main and only concern, getting, “Dunno dude, just get that shit outta here,” as a reply. The next few minutes consisted of Casey hurrying back to the car, gasping and guffawing the whole way.
“How'd it go, how'd it go?”
“Drive! Go, go!”
Torrin cocked an eyebrow as 'Candy', his own goddamned sort-of-father turned the camera around to fill the screen with his perfectly-makeup'ed face. “We LOVE you, Tory! See you when we get back... and remember, you AND Mikey will be watching the slideshow with us this time! Ta-ta!” with a kiss blown, the video ended with a swoop of neon colors and the word FIN! splashed over the screen.
“Brava, brava!” Jessie cheered, her and Steve clapping away as if they'd just paid witness to a world-famous opera.
“That was great. Well, I'm beat...” Torrin said, adding a yawn and a stretch. Before he could try to make his getaway, however, Zeke slapped a hand down onto his shoulder and patted it, hard.
“Now, now. There's PLENTY more,” he said. “So sit.”
~*~
“Thanks, sweetie,” Casey said as he passed Torrin, who'd just finished filling the dishwasher.
“It's my job, ain't it?”
“I didn't say 'thanks' for the dishwashing,” Casey replied, clipping chip bags closed and putting them in the walk-in pantry. “I said 'thanks' for sitting through the whole show without kicking holes into the living room floor.”
Torrin couldn't help himself from cracking a tiny smirk. “You warned me that if I didn't watch and behave, I'd be taking a grounding for my busted-up party,” he said.
“Well, was it really as bad as you thought it'd be? Hmm?” Casey asked.
“Well...” Torrin grabbed a soda from the fridge, thinking. There were a few 'bads' involved in tonight's presentation. Even if he'd seen his father's 'Candy' act, firsthand, it was still a little stomach-turning getting to see that act in pictures-an act performed onstage with many other men-turned-women, glitter, lights and a few risque shots thrown in. Casey had said he'd made the slideshow 'clean', which was unsettling considering what he HAD included. Any images that included dildos and makeouts that looked like sex in public weren't what Torrin considered chaste. Still... “'Guess not,” Torrin finally replied. His smile, however shy, grew. “I'm not saying I'd ever GO with you guys to one of those weirdo-shows, but-it looked like a fun time.”
“Oh, it was, it was,” Casey said. He finished the pantry tasks and moved to the fridge for a drink, choosing a beer. He cracked it open, took a hearty gulp or two then smacked his lips, saying, “I guess they're having another end-of-summer contest, bigger than this one. Dad wants to head-out for that one, too.”
“Hah... greeeat,” Torrin drawled.
“I'm not for it. After all... I finally, finally took gold. I'll let someone else have it,” Casey said, winking. “But don't worry. I'll be bringing my trophy back up to the office, instead of keeping it out for all your friends to see.”
Torrin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Dad... just... don't worry about it. If you wanna put it on the mantlepiece with neon lights around it, go ahead.”
“Aw. Maybe. Thanks, Tory.” Casey moved in to give Torrin a one-armed squeeze and kiss to the temple. “Now, why don't you and Mikey go out to the park a while, let me, Dad and the Milton crew enjoy the night.”
“But... my curfew's up in just over an hour.”
“I know. You can have a small extension tonight.”
“But--”
“There's more to the slideshow, stuff you won't want to be around for.”
Torrin paled and stood straight. “MIKEY! Come... c'mon, let's go out for some b-ball at the park...” he yelled, rushing back to the living room. He could hear his father's snickering the whole way.