What a Drag

The usual no-owning fanfic disclaimer stuff. This story came about in a feverish blast of creativity from a bunch of Motorcity fans.

"Dawn of the First Day" was what Chuck had called it. It just started as a simple call that Jacob put out: The Burners needed nice clothes in a hurry. It anticlimactically started with helping an older lady in a tailor shop, doing really normal things like changing lightbulbs and patching holes in the wall. They even fine-tuned her sewing machine back to working order, although that was less them being good at machines and more her knowing just what to do and not having the dexterity to do it. It was fine with Mike. His gut was still tight, wanting to plan or move or rush into The Duke's mansion to take the plans back single-handedly so he wouldn't have to put his friends through whatever that lunatic had in store.

Dutch had asked him about it, at some point. "This really bothering you that much?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Mike admitted while he adjusted a tension screw. "I did kind of drag you guys into one of his dumb publicity stunts, again."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't taken the bait," Dutch figured. "Wouldn't somebody else really bad get the power core instead?"

"Maybe it was all a plan to get Tiny's attention!" Texas guessed from under a massive rack of fur coats. "So The Duke could add him to his personal Man Harem of servants who do nothing but polish his bling and feed him tiny snack cakes!"

The conversation wandered after that, with and without the old lady involved. They didn't talk to her too much. She did spend a lot of her time watching them, though, when she thought they weren't looking. Mike felt her wizened little eyes burning into the backs of his legs more than once, and Texas accused her of touching his ass at least three times. It all seemed a little too mellow. Something was up.

When they left, she'd unloaded a trunk each into the backs of the Burner's cars heavy enough to make the suspension sag and their rear bumpers brush the concrete on every bump. She didn't take no for an answer. They had to take them. She stood in front of their cars if they tried to leave without them.

When they opened them back at the garage, the trunks exploded into clothing. They never got them to fit that flat ever again. It was a scary amount of clothes. They smelled like old lady. Mike found a ballgown in his. Dutch found one of those high-necked Chinese dresses nobody knew the name of, while Julie's had suits upon suits. Chuck found lingerie and promptly threw it away like it was a live snake, screaming. Texas grabbed it and started chasing Chuck around the garage, threatening him with Panty Power, before Julie took a few snapshots of some outfits and sent them to Claire.

By the second day, Claire was there well before any of them were ready to wake up. Mike knew, because he was sleeping on the couch and he was the one to hear Claire banging on the door and demanding to be let inside. He cracked it open, eyes still heavy with sleep. "G'mornin..."

"Why did you not tell me there was fashion down here in this dirt hole?! Everybody get undressed!" Claire rolled her sleeves up. "I brought make up!"

Julie was just barely hanging on to wakefulness beside her, waving on her feet but fully dressed. "She's been talking about this since yesterday..."

Mike took a few seconds to realize he should probably be flustered standing around in an oil-stained V neck and his boxers. His sleepwear was not the classiest. "I'm... already undressed?"

Claire's eyes scanned him, judging and finding him lacking. "Get RE-undressed! Put on better underwear! Something that actually looks good! Where's Dutch? I need him to be my color consultant." Claire pushed past him into the garage, immediately flinching. "EUGH what is that smell?!"

"Gasoline?" Mike rubbed at his eyes. "Jules, what? How? Early. Why."

Julie yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth. "Friend happy. Can't no."

"Oh okay."

"Who's at the door?" Chuck's voice seemed so small as he slipped out of his room. It was one of the few times he could be heard without a worried waver at the back of his throat. "I swore I heard noi-OH GOD CLAIRE!"

"You! Get downstairs!"

"MIKE GET UP HERE AND PINCH ME SO I WAKE UP!"

"Oh, right, the-" Mike rubbed at his temples. "The 'Claire seeing Chuck in his underwear' nightmare-" He called into the garage. "You're not asleep this time, Chuck! Just roll with it!"
"OH GO-HO-HOOOOD!"

Morning continued to be a mess as Claire threw clothing into their hands. Try this on, she ordered. Do that one. Do this one. Combine these two. Chuck got things chucked at his head, while Dutch had outfits handed to him and Texas got things nudged toward him with a stick. It had started easy enough: slacks. Some dress shirts that were tight across the armpits. Pink. A lot of pink.

Mike started to feel a little strange when the skirts came into play. Sure, he felt silly wearing them in general. His shoulders were broad, and it was drafty around his junk, and he looked odd in dresses just by virtue of them not being made for him. Even ditching the skirts, he found himself wearing just a vest and some shorts to make it easier to try on different outfits. He'd even put on some fishnets for a laugh. Chuck squealed when he saw them, and it was worth the laugh. He felt just a little ridiculous.

When he first got a good look of Texas in a dress, his mouth started watering.

"Texas, PLEASE stop flexing and let me zip you!" Claire struggled against that zipper with both hands, doing her best to finish zipping it over the broad expanse of Texas's back. He was a wall of toned muscle underneath, just barely held in check by the little black dress. "You'd fit if you stopped!"

"Wrong-o, Claire! Any dress that can't contain my muscle-age is worth NOTHING to me!" He just flexed in a different direction, undoing about an inch of zipper and a mile of Claire's patience. "HWOOOAAAH!"

"MUSCULATURE!" Dressing Chuck fell upon Julie, who'd started braiding his hair out of his face and gave up once Chuck had undone it a few times. He hadn't really gotten comfortable with changing in front of the others so much as he'd accepted it and tried to move on. He was holding up strangely well, even with Julie reduced to a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra. Maybe his nervousness only happened around Claire? That said, Chuck almost seemed to be making an effort to not look in Julie's direction. "'Musculature' is a word, 'mucilage' is a word, 'muscle-age' is something you made up that sounds like the wrong word! Quit it!"

"You're just jealous 'cause you don't look good in anything, Mr. No-Butt. HEY, Dutch, hey, hey, Dutch, ask me my secret!"

Dutch sighed, halfway into putting on a gold lamé shirt. "What's your secret, Texas?"

Texas put on his deepest, most dramatic voice, and whispered. "I'm always angry." He flexed so hard the dress split at the seams, and it fell off of his body in slinky ribbons to drape over his thighs and pool at his feet.

Somebody whimpered, and Mike only realized it was him when everyone turned to look at him.

"... what? What?!" Mike gestured to the little fabric scraps on the ground. "That was hot! That's- you can't disagree with me, it's objectively sexy!"

Now reduced to a pair of running shorts, Texas flexed again. "Well, it's true."

"Is Mike okay?" Claire asked.

Julie was halfway to snickering against Chuck's back, and he had gone very red. "Got any little confessions you wanna make there, tiger?"

"Why are you all looking at me weird?!" asked Mike. "It's literally just the truth! That was hot! It's not that complicated!"

"Hey, uh, if you're into dudes and all, that's cool!" Dutch finally finished pulling on the shirt. "But it's Texas."

Texas turned so his ass was facing Mike and clenched his cheeks together, then bounced them. "Mike's obviously got good taste."

"GOD! Stop that!" Mike covered his eyes for good measure. He did not need to see that, that was just way too much muscle on a part of Texas he wasn't happy dwelling on. "Okay, we're gonna make today about this? Fine. Yes, I like dudes as much as I like girls. There. Happy? Cool."

Dutch made a noise. "But it's Texas."

"Texas is objectively hot!" Mike released his eyes. "Look if you- GHA-"

Texas was RIGHT in his personal space, and before he knew it, Texas had flopped onto him and was posing on top of him like 'one of his French girls'. Texas checked his nails. "No, please, keep the compliments coming. Texas will repay you in his presence."

Mike didn't resist, not yet. Being folded into the couch would have been kinda nice if his hip wasn't at a funny angle and he was doing this, of course, willingly. "Texas will get his head back down to normal size, thank you. I don't think you're necessarily hotter than anybody else in this room."

"Oh, BURN!" Claire cheered. "Wait, everybody? Even Chuck?"

"Especially Chuck- Julie hold him down."

Julie grabbed onto Chuck around the waist and kept him held fast to the chair, even as he was making a break for the other room. Claire was still protesting. "Ew! But look at him!"

"YOU look at him! Skinny dudes are hot!" Mike kept going even through Chuck's whimpers of protest. He planted his hands in the couch and pushed up until Texas fell off of him and into the clothing pile at his feet. "And he's tall and blonde and has freckles- he is all the things that would be hot on a girl! What's the problem?"

"That he isn't a girl! Duh!" Claire gasped. "Oh my god. I just had a breakthrough. Wait right here!"

Claire scampered over to one of the trunks and started digging like a mole. Chuck, meanwhile, slowly deflated in Julie's arms and curled up into the pile of clothes on the floor. "Okay, you can just leave me here to die, thank you."

Dutch perked up. "Am I hot?"

"Yes!" Mike yelled. Why did they keep asking him?! He was being perfectly clear! "You are one of the people in this room! You are hot!"

Julie held up her captive Chuck the best she could. "Me too?"

"Yes, Julie, you are also a person in the room, therefore hot. Is this gonna be a thing now?"

"Okay, I think we gotta stop." Dutch doubled over to check on Chuck from floor-level. "Chuck's kinda lookin' like he's gonna die."

Texas shrugged from on top of Mike. "Learn to take a compliment, No-Butt."

"I FOUND ONE!" Claire held whatever she was looking for aloft in triumph. It was... cloth, Mike could tell, and held together by a lot of ribbon. "Stand Chuck up! This'll fix everything!"

Julie shrugged. "Well, you heard the lady." He hefted, but Chuck's force of will and deadweighting kept her from making progress. She grinned. "All right, guys, some help please."

"What?! NO!" Chuck got his feet planted. "NO-"

Every Burner converged on Chuck as he made a run for the door. Julie kept hold of his waist while Texas dove for his legs. Knocked over mid-stride, Chuck fell right into Mike's arms and got his own wrists grabbed by Dutch. Everybody's hands were on him, spreading his ankles shoulder width apart and holding his hands high above his head. He was all but strung up and on display, every inch of a bare chest exposed along with the tight pair of boy shorts that he wore for modesty.

How did Mike wind up in the front, holding him by the shoulders? He thought Texas was bad. Chuck stretched out was taller than him and the view was spectacular, and he was shivering and just starting to sweat and-

"Ohp, Mike's having another gay moment," Texas pointed out.

Snapping back into reality, Mike growled, "Texas, oh my god! What is WITH you?!"

"Okay, guys, look, this has all been REALLY funny!" Chuck arched away from Claire as she wrapped the whatever it was around his waist. Mike could see now that it was torso-shaped, and the ribbons laced together in small sections on the side. By the way Claire's hands were moving behind Chuck, apparently there was more in the back, and little by little they tightened around Chuck's waist. "HAHA, let's call Chuck 'sexy' and 'hot' to his face even when he isn't! GOOD JOKE! Never heard that one before-"

Claire instructed, "Tell me if it pinches or gets too hard to breathe now!"

"-but this is getting weird!"

Mike could attest to that. Chuck's waist was shrinking with every word. It was getting hard for Mike to breathe. Each little cinch of the ribbons got him that much smoother and rounder, with some stiff ribbing material inside the cloth giving him a tiny middle and a wider hip.

"But it's time to let this ALL go, and face the fact tha-that I was born a knobbly l-little stick and I... I can't... uh..."

Chuck trailed off with a little puff of breath, and Claire tied the ribbon into a tight bow at the top. "There! Thought that would work. You can let him go now."

Chuck's breath came in shallow little pants that made his chest heave. Waist cinched and hips flared just a smidge, it was his chest that looked the most dramatic. It was broader, or seemed broader, and when Dutch released his hands Chuck put them right on his waist and just... rubbed himself, up and down, along his sides over and over again.

"How's it look?" Claire asked the group.

Everyone leaned in. Julie even came around to the front to get a better view. She asked, "How's it feel?"

"It feels really good," Chuck immediately answered. No thought required, no shyness, no hesitating, it just did. His voice sounded distant, in awe of his own body. His hands never stopped. "My back feels so straight."

"It is." Dutch moved back a step to take in all of him. "Dude, I didn't even know you were taller than me."

"I-I think it's the pressure?" Chuck's fingertips passed the catches on the front of the waist cincher. "Something about it, it's like... I feel just... it's good. It's really good."

"It's called a corset!" Claire explained with delight. "It's what the cavewomen used before bras were invented! Now that you're a little more girl-shaped, finding something that looks good on you should be easy!"

"Texas is only minorly jealous." He elbowed at Mike's side. "How you feelin', Tiny? Havin' another gay moment?"

Mike tried to find a word. "Dmnkly..." Instead, he reached out and put his hands around Chuck's waist. His thumbs touched each other. His middle fingertips touched each other. Mike's heart hurt. "Oh."

Claire huffed. "I feel like we're getting off-topic."

Mike cracked into a laugh. "What topic?! We've literally spent all day trying on fetish gear!"

Chuck snarked right back, daring to crack a smile. "Says the dude in fishnets."

"Dude, I legit forgot I had those on." Mike had to look down to check, even. He did indeed, and they were falling down. "What is wrong with me?"

"Hotness overload." Texas sidled right up to Mike, bare back against his waist. "That'll happen."

"Texas what the hell!" Mike put his palm right down on top of Texas's head and shoved. "And you're needling me about having gay moments!"

Texas shoved right back, and within seconds they had each other in headlocks on the floor, trying to pin each other.

Julie was starting to break, repressed giggles coming through just a little louder than Chuck's breathless laugh. "I can't believe it. Every decision I've ever made in my life has lead to this moment: kinky dude wrestling in underwear."

"Let it be known right now," Dutch said, "That I'm secure in my masculinity with a steady girlfriend."

"Why make the note?" asked Julie.

"Because I wanna keep all these clothes," said Dutch, "AND because we're gonna be the sexiest motherfuckers at the party."

"The par- crap, I actually forgot about the party!" Mike stopped wrestling and slapped his forehead. Texas didn't let go. "Gah!"

Chuck boggled. "How could you forget?!"

Mike yelled so loud he made his own ears hurt. "I HAVE SPENT ALL MORNING LOOKING AT NAKED CHESTS AND BOOBIES AND TEXAS JIGGLING HIS ASS AT ME!"

Jacob stomped on the ceiling from the bar upstairs.

Mike went limp. "Okay you can leave me here to die, thanks."

"Don't die now!" Claire whipped out her compact. "I haven't done your makeup tests yet."