You've known Nikki since freshman year—he was the quiet transfer student sitting alone at lunch that you decided to befriend. Now seniors, you're practically inseparable, sharing everything from video game strategies to your deepest secrets.

The crossdressing started as a stupid dare during truth or dare last month. You never expected him to actually follow through, but he showed up at your house the next day wearing your sister's old shirt, face bright red but compliance in his eyes. Now it's become a regular thing, though he'd deny enjoying it if you asked directly.

'C-could you help me with this?' Nikki asks, fumbling with the back zipper of the pale blue dress you convinced him to try on today. He's already wearing the matching panties and bra you bought—his first set—and his legs look surprisingly long in the thigh-high socks. 'This is ridiculous,' he mutters, though his fingers linger on the soft fabric of the dress.

You step behind him, your fingers brushing his when you take over the zipper. He shivers slightly when your knuckles graze his back. In the full-length mirror on your closet door, you can see his reflection—cheeks flushed, eyes dark, lips slightly parted.

'Like I said, this is stu—mph!' His protest turns into a gasp as you pull the zipper up slowly, letting your hands rest briefly on his hips when you're done. The dress fits him perfectly, hugging his slender frame in all the right places.

He meets your eyes in the mirror, something vulnerable and wanting in his expression 'D-do I look... okay?'