Prompt 169-Gender Bender: "Satin and Lace"
Title: Satin and Lace
Author: Sonja Jade
Series: Brotherhood
Word Count: 988
Rating: T
Character(s): Braeda/Chris, Vanessa, Havoc/Sciezka
Summary: Central City celebrates its first annual drag race with a dance where the girls are boys, the boys are girls, and Havoc is havoc.
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: I have a pic in my favorites on deviant art that I’ve wanted to write a fic to for a long time. This was the perfect opportunity to do that, so I did it! It’s called Military Shenanigans and is by FLASOK. Part of the ‘Whatever it Takes’ universe.
Prompt: Gender Bender
“I’m not doing it,” Braeda grumped as he wiped water spots from a brandy sniffer.
The girls cried out in protest, insisting that he participate in the bar’s Dragster Dance. Aerugoan engineers had developed a car that could go from zero to sixty kilometers per hour in under ten seconds, and the Amestrians on the border developed a type of competitive sport called drag racing. It was catching on like wildfire and Central’s first drag race had prompted Madame Christmas to invite everyone down to her restaurant for a dance that encouraged cross dressing.
“Oh come on, Mr. Madame!” Vanessa moaned. “You don’t ever wanna do anything fun with us! It’s all work and no play with you!”
“I play plenty,” he remarked, tossing a grin at his wife. “Don’t I, Chris?”
She grinned back and flipped her ashes. “Yes, but I have to admit, I wonder what you’d look like in a pair of fishnets.”
Braeda’s shoulders slumped and Chris looked thoughtful for a moment as the girls waited anxiously to see what her verdict would be. Finally she stubbed her cigarette out and slid off the barstool. “I’ll dress you up at home and then I’ll decide. If it turns out you make a beautiful woman, I’m afraid I’ll have to force you.”
Braeda sighed and went back to cleaning the glasses behind the bar, and hoped he made one atrocious sight in whatever get up she had planned for him.
*****
The night of the dance, Madame stood beaming by the makeshift stage in a three piece suit, wingtip shoes, and a fedora hat. The event was turning out to be a huge success with entertainment and contests for the best and worst cross dressed individuals. The girls were fawning over the men’s outfits and makeup and the men were turned on by the women around them who were comfortable in their bodies, no matter what clothes they had on.
To her delight, her Roy-Boy showed up in a dark gray sequined evening gown, flawless makeup and a wavy brunette wig. So long as he didn’t speak, no one would have guessed it was him. And Riza was no slouch either. Her blonde hair was slicked down and combed just right, and she wore a casual button up shirt and vest with khaki trousers and borrowed oxford shoes. She wore Roy’s pocket watch like she’d owned it for years and she never left Roy’s side all night.
Vanessa wore a ridiculous looking Cretan ‘Zoot Suit’ in a vibrant red, Jerrica donned a baseball jersey and tucked her hair up under her hat, and India wore ripped jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt that showed off a plethora of temporary henna tattoos, a spiked leather vest and heavy black boots. And then there was Braeda…
Madame had him in her finest fishnet stockings, the seams going up the backs of his thick legs (which Madame had meticulously shaved, as well as his chest). She wrestled him into a black strapless mini-dress and helped him tuck himself between his legs to further complete the transformation. After adding a few simple accessories, she deemed him gorgeous and trotted him out in public.
After arriving at the restaurant, she saw him sulking about. “It’s only one night, honey,” she soothed as her smoky lips kissed his cheek. “All the other guys will be in dresses, so there’s nothing to worry about.” She glanced up at the clock. “It’s almost time. You ready?”
“No,” Braeda answered, sounding like a petulant teenager.
“Tough titty, Braeda-Boy. Let’s show ‘em what we got.” She clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the bar, and now they were watching Vanessa emcee over the best dressed ‘men’.
Braeda felt a tap to his forearm, and he looked over to find a spectacled ‘man’ dressed like a page boy and grinning from ear to ear. “What’s a dame like you doing behind the bar? Come dance with me!”
Braeda recognized Sciezka’s voice immediately. “I don’t think so, handsome. These heels are murder on a fat broad’s feet.”
She smiled, “Then let’s go outside and get some air.”
He nodded and hollered for his wife to come play bartender for a few minutes, then followed Sciezka out to the back alley. In the shadows between the buildings sat a pickup truck and a tall blond with a cigarette, and Braeda groaned.
“Now that’s a woman!” Havoc crowed as he snapped a picture.
“Shut up, asshole!” Braeda covered his face as the flashbulb went off again. “And quit taking pictures!”
Havoc feigned a hurt look, then strolled toward his friend and put his arm around him. “And I was gonna ask you to come home with me!” He laughed as Braeda shoved him away. “C’mon, sour puss! One more picture and I’ll never bother you again!”
Braeda sighed. “One more, and that’s it.”
“Just hold this for me, okay?” Havoc grinned as he passed a hot dog to him. Braeda arched his eyebrow and Havoc sniggered, “You needed a prop, my lady.”
Braeda huffed and adjusted his posture as Havoc directed him. “Stand up straight, it’ll make your tits look perkier! Now cradle that hot dog like it’s made of gold… Hold still…” The camera flashed and Havoc howled with laughter. “You got some balls to wear something like that, but damn if I can see ‘em!”
Braeda rolled his eyes and began to eat his prop. On one hand, he was upset that Havoc would take a photo of him in the most embarrassing outfit he’d ever worn. But on the other hand, if there was proof of what he looked like dressed as a woman, maybe his wife wouldn’t make him do it ever again.
When he saw an enlarged copy of it on her desk the week after the party, he only smiled in remembrance. “I should’ve worn an empire waist,” was his only comment.