Am I pretty?
They'd always assumed that Drew was normal – until the day he paged them to the ICU and told him to stop fighting over him – and the reason why. Needy cross dressing fathers made a special sort of damage that alcoholic or absent fathers just couldn't touch.
They didn't do sympathy – asshole fathers were good for something – but, out of respect for Drew's feelings they do not turn it into a joke – at least not a joke they share with Drew, because he'd just get that sad puppy face and lock himself in the supply closet.
The image of a young Drew standing in front of his father – dressed in a terrible drag outfit of course – screaming "AM I PRETTY?" is too hilarious to let die so it becomes their little in joke for whenever one of them is crossing a line – A quick 'Am I pretty?' diffuses the situation and reminds them that they need to share the burden of making the med students and interns lives hell instead of fighting each other.
Because it's them it quickly becomes a competition – three 'Am I pretty?'s in a day and the recipient is the other's bitch for the night.
Perry must be PMSing hard core because no one has actually ever lost this game before tonight.
She knows just what she wants from him – it takes some pleading with the other residents, arranging for Drew get stuck on overnight call, and one awkward call to Dr. Dorian (shudder) but she gets the supplies together just in time to beat him home.
The benefit of being in – whatever it is she has with Perry – is that Jordan's already broken him in like a pair of old Doc Martens and he hardly puts up a fight.
He does bitch about it endlessly though – too bad for him it just makes her hotter.
"This is because you never got to play with dolls when you were a kid, isn't it?"
"I played with dolls," She says drily, looking him over under her eyelashes for a second – before deciding to go for her bronze eyeshadow.
She smothers the brush in the pot before leaning in and brushing it carefully across his eyelid. She can feel his eye twitch and shiver – she could hurt him right now – jab the brush in the corner of his eyes – but she won't and power is such a turn on.
She can see the allure that makeovers have to Dr. Reid – even if the woman's taste is way too damn girly girl for her.
"Ripped their heads off more likely," He grumbles, opening his eyes again that are nicely highlighted by her eyeshadow.
She smirks at that – because it's true, and those little plastic bitches deserved it for being treacherous whores and sleeping with the Cobra army.
Instead she reaches for her black eyeliner and pulls his eyelid taut as she applies it.
She touches on some blush, followed by bronzer and chapstick (because she's sure he'd draw the line lipstick and she doesn't have any of her own anyway).
Now it's time the icing on the cake. She leans back and pulls the long shaggy auburn wig out of the bag, taking a moment to straighten out the knots.
"Been planning this awhile, Mahoney," Perry asks, raising one eyebrow. She's half-tempted to pluck and sculpt them into a more feminine shape – except Drew might catch on and that'd take some awkward explaining.
Damn Drew for being such a kill joy.
"Awhile," She answers, pulling the wig down firmly onto his head, straightening the hair line – brushing the long bangs down over one eye, before jamming the bobby pins in tightly.
It'd be game over if he knew that the wig came out of Dr. Dorian's personal collection – I don't even want to know why he has all those wigs, I don't –
"Finish getting dressed and meet me in the living room," She orders, climbing off his lap and striding away.
It takes him for fucking ever to get dressed – as if putting make up on him actually made him a girl or something, but she bites her tongue because this is so going to be worth it.
She can hear him grumbling and cursing as he begins his walk down the hallway, and her arousal spikes sharply in anticipation.
He's better than she could have hoped for. The deep burgundy satin clings to his fit body that already has a bit of a nipped in waist – the heavy ruching amplifies the curves and makes them almost feminine. The halter neck disguises the bra and the pair of falsies she'd gotten him
She probably has a future in plastic surgery, if she ever wanted it, because if she didn't know what was going underneath that dress she'd swear they're real they're in such good proportion to the rest of him – she didn't go too big, that's a rookie mistake.
The black sheer hose clings to his muscular legs and thighs nicely, making the fine sandy hair on his legs disappear. She's amused to note that his toes are curled, as if in embarrassment – so totally worth not buying the shoes.
She circles him slowly, examining her handiwork – appreciating the way the satin stretches over his amazingly pert ass, shining slightly in the dim light. The hair fans gently across his shoulders and back, looking so pretty.
She brushes her hand on the small of back, enjoying his slight shiver in response and dragging her fingers lightly along his hip as she moves to face him.
"Can I take this off now," He mutters, shifting slightly from foot to foot.
"Should've thought about that before you stole Lucy for babysitting duties—"
"You don't even like her," He whines.
"Irrelevant—" She mutters, pressing up against him, arms around his neck, exploring the interesting sensation of a body that is both masculine and feminine.
Oh, well that explains eh-heh-heh-hevery thing…
Smirking at him she reaches down to his crotch and firmly cups his trapped erection. He lets out a choked noise, eyes rolling back for a second, cheeks flaming, as she grinds her palm against his cock.
"This turns you on, doesn't it pervert," She hisses, eyes drinking the rare vulnerable look he gives her.
"This doesn't go beyond this room," He whispers warily.
"Oh, I'm not sharing you at all."
She cups his breasts, kneading them roughly – much harder than she'd do if he were actually a girl because she wants him to feel it through all that silicone—
Her body throbs in response to his soft moan.
She kisses him roughly, pushing him back towards the bedroom again as her fingers tangle in his hair, careful to pull just hard enough to get her message across without pulling off the wig, enjoying the way he whimpers and his hands roam and clutch around her body.
As soon as she has him in the room she shuts the door and pulls off her top.
"Keep it on," She orders when she sees his hands stray to the hemline of the dress.
She pushes down her jeans, stepping out of them and sauntering to her dresser, bending over provocatively as she searches for the last piece of this game. She can hear him breathing – swift shallow breaths of anticipation and arousal –
That turns into a quiet choke as she pulls out the large strap on dildo.
She sets the dildo aside for a moment and slowly removing her damp panties and tossing them aside. The bra is next, and she takes a moment to play with her breasts, squeezing them, pinching the nipples – more for her audience's appreciation – and judging by the noticeable bulge in the satin, he definitely appreciates it.
Next she pulls on the strap on harness, tightening the buckles just enough so her erection juts proudly forward, the base pressing against her clit through the lips of her labia.
"On the bed," She says, voice growing husky as her arousal reaches a crisis point. If he balked she's so turned on at this point that she'd probably let it slide and let him do it the old fashioned way –
He kneels to the floor, laying out across the bed, raising his hips up.
She runs her fingers up under the dress, along his thighs, slowly pushing the dress up over his hips. She digs her fingernails into the hose, splitting it in half down the middle –
She teases the small pucker between those firm cheeks dryly for a moment, watching him shiver and squirm in response. She wants to fuck him now, but she makes herself wait, and reach for the lube, warming the stuff in her palms before she begins to efficiently finger him –
He lets out a loud needy groan after she gets three finger in, crooking them against the prostate gland, causing him to rock against her hand.
She slicks the dildo quickly, pressing the blunt mushroom head against his entrance. She lets out a moan of her own as the dildo pops into him, reverberating against her clit.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," she gasps, spreading his ass cheeks and watching as her cock slips slowly inside him.
She sticks to short tight thrusts once she's fully inside him, laying on top of him and grinding their hips together – He's letting out little girlish whimpers and cries, grasping at the blankets and watching her over his shoulder, his eyes cloudy with lust. She's so damn wet she can feel it smearing on the backs of his thighs and that just makes it hotter.
She nudges him to sit up a little, her hands reaching around to clutch and massage his breasts, spots clouding her eyes as the dildo grinds against her clit at a new angle. She thrusts harder, clinging to him tightly, one hand moving massage his cock through the damp satin of the dress.
She comes with a shout, distantly pleased when she hears his answering cry.
They fall back to the bed, both gasping loudly and trying to regain their bearings –
"Am I pretty," Perry asks hoarsely.
She slaps his thigh in reprimand.