As I Was Looking Right Up His Dress...
A short ficlet for the kink meme. The prompt was for Benzaie cross-dressing on a whim and someone mistaking him for a girl, so he goes along with it. I made a few changes so things would end happily, so I hope the original prompter doesn't mind. It's also my first time writing Benzaie/Angry Joe but I think it turned out well.
The title comes from a line of Ryan's during a game of Narrate. I love when the players try to trip each other up by saying lines like that.
It was New Year’s Eve and the Critic was hosting a huge get-together for his fellow producers so they could all ring in the new year together. Most of the guests arrived at his house early, ready to eat his food and drink until they could no longer remember why they were celebrating in the first place.
Benzaie arrived later than expected, though that wasn’t the only unexpected thing about him that night. On a whim he had decided to do something fun for the event, which is why he arrived wearing a tight, black dress covered in sequins, a black wrap covering his shoulders, and high heels that provided him a few well-needed inches. He had also shaved off all traces of his beard, ditched his glasses for the evening to wear green-colored contacts instead, and sported a new wig of curly black hair.
While most producers probably assumed that Benzaie only dressed up like a woman as a joke in his and others’ videos, few were aware of how much he enjoyed wearing these clothes. There was just something exciting about walking around in pretty outfits, or applying mascara and lipstick to his features. Instead of feeling like he was pretending to be a completely different person, Benzie still felt like himself when he was dressed like this, only a different version of himself. The sexy, feminine version.
Benzaie nervously pulled on the hem of his dress, taking the opportunity to admire his newly waxed legs yet again, before he took a breath and strode into the Critic’s house. He wasn’t entirely sure what sort of reception he was going to receive tonight. Sure, these people were his friends, but many of them were also, to put it gently, not the most mature or sensitive when it came to acting “like a man”. Benzaie didn’t know how he’d react to their taunts and jokes, but he also knew he wasn’t going to let them ruin his night. This was a party and he was going to have fun no matter what anyone said.
To his surprise, most of the party-goers seemed cool with his outfit, or too drunk to recognize that Benzaie was not, in fact, a real lady. Benzaie couldn’t help giggling when a thoroughly wasted Spoony told him he had a nice ass before stumbling off to find Linkara.
“A’scuse me, miss, but I mus’ say you’re lookin’ fine tonigh’.” Benzaie turned around in mild surprise to find Angry Joe smiling at him. Cups of punch, spiked heavily with rum, were clenched in each hand, and the way he wobbled and blinked at Benzaie with unfocused eyes made it clear that these were not his first two drinks of the night.
“Why, thank you so much,” Benzaie replied in a softer, higher-pitched voice. “You are looking quite handsome yourself, sir.”
“Call me Joe,” Joe insisted as he set his cups down on the Critic’s coffee table. “Would a lovely lady like yourself care ta accompany me tonigh’?”
“I would love to.” Benzaie extended his arm and giggled again as Joe very carefully entwined it with his own.
Together they spent the evening singing along to the karaoke machine set up downstairs, snacking in the not-much quieter dining room, and dancing across the crowded living room.
“You’re real good a’ this,” Joe said with a smile as they glided along in time to the music. His hands were resting comfortably on Benzaie’s hips, while Benzaie was gently gripping the other man’s shoulders.
“You should see me when I’m not wearing these heels,” Benzaie said with a laugh. Joe’s grin widened.
“An’ maybe no’ wearin’ some other stuff?” As he talked, his hands slowly traveled down to cup Benzaie’s ass. Benzaie gasped softly before wiggling a little at the sensation.
“You’re certainly a bold one,” he said, one hand reaching up to stroke Joe’s cheek. “But I don’t know if you’d be able to handle a sight like that, Joe.”
“Jus’ try me, baby.”
Benzaie laughed and they continued to dance the night away until finally it was one minute to midnight. Everyone counted down the final seconds of the year together, growing more excited as the numbers decreased. Benzaie was also feeling giddy, and was about to shout out 10, when he felt Joe take his hand.
“Hey, uh, would ya min’ if I maybe kissed ya at midnight?” Benzaie stared back at Joe in surprise.
“A kiss? Uh, well, you see-”
Everyone cheered as the clock struck twelve before throwing confetti, blasting horns, and pulling the nearest person to them in for a kiss. Joe kept staring at Benzaie, his expression hopeful. Benzaie sighed and pulled his hands free.
“Joe, I’m sorry. I can’t do this to you any longer,” he said in his normal voice. “I’m not who you think I am… I’m not even a girl.” He reached up and pulled off his wig. “It’s me, Benzaie.”
Joe blinked slowly at him for a moment.
“Yeah, I know.” Benzaie stared back at him, completely astonished.
“What? You did?”
“Yeah. I knew the whole time.” Joe sighed and rubbed the back of his head, while the slur in his voice vanished. “I’m not even really drunk. I just thought if I pretended to be, it wouldn’t seem as weird if I hit on you. Like I could use it as an excuse to escape if things didn’t work out.” Benzaie seemed unable to comprehend what he was saying and smoothed down the end of his dress nervously.
“So you really did want to kiss me? Even though I like to do weird shit like dress like this?” Joe reached back out to take his hand again.
“I don’t think you look weird. You’re pretty hot as a girl… and as a guy.” Benzaie’s expression wavered before he leaned in to kiss Joe.
“Sorry it wasn’t exactly at midnight.” Joe grinned and pulled Benzaie close for another kiss.
“I could wait for you all night.”
The title comes from a line of Ryan's during a game of Narrate. I love when the players try to trip each other up by saying lines like that.
It was New Year’s Eve and the Critic was hosting a huge get-together for his fellow producers so they could all ring in the new year together. Most of the guests arrived at his house early, ready to eat his food and drink until they could no longer remember why they were celebrating in the first place.
Benzaie arrived later than expected, though that wasn’t the only unexpected thing about him that night. On a whim he had decided to do something fun for the event, which is why he arrived wearing a tight, black dress covered in sequins, a black wrap covering his shoulders, and high heels that provided him a few well-needed inches. He had also shaved off all traces of his beard, ditched his glasses for the evening to wear green-colored contacts instead, and sported a new wig of curly black hair.
While most producers probably assumed that Benzaie only dressed up like a woman as a joke in his and others’ videos, few were aware of how much he enjoyed wearing these clothes. There was just something exciting about walking around in pretty outfits, or applying mascara and lipstick to his features. Instead of feeling like he was pretending to be a completely different person, Benzie still felt like himself when he was dressed like this, only a different version of himself. The sexy, feminine version.
Benzaie nervously pulled on the hem of his dress, taking the opportunity to admire his newly waxed legs yet again, before he took a breath and strode into the Critic’s house. He wasn’t entirely sure what sort of reception he was going to receive tonight. Sure, these people were his friends, but many of them were also, to put it gently, not the most mature or sensitive when it came to acting “like a man”. Benzaie didn’t know how he’d react to their taunts and jokes, but he also knew he wasn’t going to let them ruin his night. This was a party and he was going to have fun no matter what anyone said.
To his surprise, most of the party-goers seemed cool with his outfit, or too drunk to recognize that Benzaie was not, in fact, a real lady. Benzaie couldn’t help giggling when a thoroughly wasted Spoony told him he had a nice ass before stumbling off to find Linkara.
“A’scuse me, miss, but I mus’ say you’re lookin’ fine tonigh’.” Benzaie turned around in mild surprise to find Angry Joe smiling at him. Cups of punch, spiked heavily with rum, were clenched in each hand, and the way he wobbled and blinked at Benzaie with unfocused eyes made it clear that these were not his first two drinks of the night.
“Why, thank you so much,” Benzaie replied in a softer, higher-pitched voice. “You are looking quite handsome yourself, sir.”
“Call me Joe,” Joe insisted as he set his cups down on the Critic’s coffee table. “Would a lovely lady like yourself care ta accompany me tonigh’?”
“I would love to.” Benzaie extended his arm and giggled again as Joe very carefully entwined it with his own.
Together they spent the evening singing along to the karaoke machine set up downstairs, snacking in the not-much quieter dining room, and dancing across the crowded living room.
“You’re real good a’ this,” Joe said with a smile as they glided along in time to the music. His hands were resting comfortably on Benzaie’s hips, while Benzaie was gently gripping the other man’s shoulders.
“You should see me when I’m not wearing these heels,” Benzaie said with a laugh. Joe’s grin widened.
“An’ maybe no’ wearin’ some other stuff?” As he talked, his hands slowly traveled down to cup Benzaie’s ass. Benzaie gasped softly before wiggling a little at the sensation.
“You’re certainly a bold one,” he said, one hand reaching up to stroke Joe’s cheek. “But I don’t know if you’d be able to handle a sight like that, Joe.”
“Jus’ try me, baby.”
Benzaie laughed and they continued to dance the night away until finally it was one minute to midnight. Everyone counted down the final seconds of the year together, growing more excited as the numbers decreased. Benzaie was also feeling giddy, and was about to shout out 10, when he felt Joe take his hand.
“Hey, uh, would ya min’ if I maybe kissed ya at midnight?” Benzaie stared back at Joe in surprise.
“A kiss? Uh, well, you see-”
Everyone cheered as the clock struck twelve before throwing confetti, blasting horns, and pulling the nearest person to them in for a kiss. Joe kept staring at Benzaie, his expression hopeful. Benzaie sighed and pulled his hands free.
“Joe, I’m sorry. I can’t do this to you any longer,” he said in his normal voice. “I’m not who you think I am… I’m not even a girl.” He reached up and pulled off his wig. “It’s me, Benzaie.”
Joe blinked slowly at him for a moment.
“Yeah, I know.” Benzaie stared back at him, completely astonished.
“What? You did?”
“Yeah. I knew the whole time.” Joe sighed and rubbed the back of his head, while the slur in his voice vanished. “I’m not even really drunk. I just thought if I pretended to be, it wouldn’t seem as weird if I hit on you. Like I could use it as an excuse to escape if things didn’t work out.” Benzaie seemed unable to comprehend what he was saying and smoothed down the end of his dress nervously.
“So you really did want to kiss me? Even though I like to do weird shit like dress like this?” Joe reached back out to take his hand again.
“I don’t think you look weird. You’re pretty hot as a girl… and as a guy.” Benzaie’s expression wavered before he leaned in to kiss Joe.
“Sorry it wasn’t exactly at midnight.” Joe grinned and pulled Benzaie close for another kiss.
“I could wait for you all night.”