That afternoon, Luna, Lynn, and Luan were sitting on the couch, Luna with her guitar across her lap and her feet on the coffee table, Luan practicing her new material with Mr. Coconuts, and Lynn casually tossing a football into the air. On TV, a bunch of guys in tights chased a ball around a field while fans cheered like lunatics. Luna absently strummed a cord and sighed. "This is bogus. Let's watch something cool."

Lynn snorted. "Are you kidding? You can't get much cooler than college football."

"Oh, yeah, buncha overpaid homos squatting behind each other's butts, so cool."

A dark shadow crossed Lynn's face. "You're one to talk. Mick Swagger struts around like a woman. Is being a scrawny, pasty Englishman cool?"

"You leave the English out of this," Luna growled.

Throwing her voice, Luan said, "Looks like another stupid fight. And they call me the dummy."

"Shut up, Luan," Luna said.

"Yeah," Lynn piped up, "if you wanna talk about stupid, how about your rouitne? Your jokes are weak."

Luan pivoted Mr. Coconuts' head around to face Lynn. "Just like your arms."

All at once, the couch erupted into a three way slapfight. Mr. Coconuts took a blow to the head and flew off Luan's lap, landing in a heap on the floor; Luna yanked Lynn's ponytail, making her yelp; and Lynn rammed her elbow into Luna's stomach, knocking a rush of air from her lungs. Lola, Lana, and Lisa came out of the kitchen, drawn by the noise, and watched from the sidelines like spectators at a WWE show. Lana slurped her juice box and smacked her lips. "I got ten on Lynn."

"No way," Lola scoffed, "Luna has a weapon." She cupped her gloved hands to her mouth. "Use the guitar, honey."

Lisa tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I favor Luan given her much demonstrated capacity for sadistic cruelty. If you'll remember, she is the reason for the jagged scar on my right leg, and also was the one who nearly drowned Lana last April 1st."

The twins donned matching expressions of contemplation. "You're not wrong," Lola said.

"Luan is a psycho," Lana agreed.

They were so caught up in watching the spectacle, and Lynn, Luna, and Luan in creating it, that none of them realized they weren't alone until it was too late. Leni, eyes blazing, stood over the fray, her hands balled into fists and her lips peeled back from her teeth in a doggish sneer. Lola blinked in surprise and Lana eagerly sucked her juice box. Leaning in and a vampire into a pump, juicy neck, Leni screamed, "KNOCK IT OFF!"

Luna, Luan, and Lynn froze in place, Luan with his hands in Lynn's hair and Luna with her arm around Luan's neck from behind. They looked up at Leni for a stunned moment...then burst out laughing.

Flashing, Leni grabbed Lynn by the hair and wrenched her head to the side. Lynn cried out in shock and pain and both Luna and Luan scrambled back on their butts, Luan nearly falling backwards over the arm. Leni dragged Lynn's face to hers and growled deep in her throat; Lola's hand fluttered to her chest, Lana continued sucking the empty and crumpled juice box, and Lisa jotted something down on a clipboard. Leni opened her mouth, and Lisa was instantly reminded of a snake distending its jaw. "I WILL TURN YOU INTO A FUCKING HUMAN PRETZEL! DON'T FUCK WITH ME, BITCH!"

She shoved Lynn back, and Lynn curled up into a defensive little ball. Luan held her hands up in front of her face to protect herself and Leni whipped her wrathful gaze from one to the other as if trying to decide which one to gobble up whole. She turned to face Lola, Lana, and Lisa. Lola's face went white, Lisa fell back a step ("Spare me, I beg you"), and the juice box fell from Lana's hand, landing at her feet, the straw still jutting from her mouth. Leni took a step forward then spun on Luna, who wailed.

A knock came at the door, and Leni marched over, shoulders squared. She ripped it open and when she saw who it was, her entire demeanor changed like throwing a switch. Her face softened, her body relaxed, and her clenched fist opened. "Oh, hi, Clyde," she chirped. "Lincy's upstairs."

Clyde, sensing something wrong, flashed a nervous smile. "Uh...thanks." He scurried past and hurried up the stairs. Leni closed the door and turned to her sisters, who all stared at her with open fear.

"There's, like, gonna be some changes around here." Her eyes went to the juice box at Lana's feet, and Lana stooped to pick it up. Leni smiled tightly. "I knew you'd understand."

Oh..they did.

They understood perfectly.

For a long moment, Clyde McBride stood outside of his friend Lincoln Loud's bedroom amping himself up for what was to come. The door, firmly shut and somehow foreboding, leered over him, somehow threatening despite its mundanity, and the air around him was heavy and unbreathable.

Clyde's day had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows and he was drained. At times, he thought of Lori until his brain was chafed raw and at others he was able to concentrate on other things. On the up side, he was now sure that he could get over Lori and move on with his life, but the prospect was so daunting that it depressed him all over again. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror in the boys' bathroom earlier and forced himself to meet it head on. Looking at himself, he was ashamed of this stupid obsession, ashamed by what a goddamn freak he was. Ever since, he had made a conscious effort to quash any thought of Lori the second it popped up. That wasn't easy since he was so used to them that they didn't always register, but he did it all the same. At home, right before leaving, he was browsing the internet for ways to help break unwanted trains of thought and came across an article about a man who lost weight by putting down his fork every time he took a bite. The constant putting down and picking up got real old, real quick and he didn't eat as much as he had before.

Another thing he saw pointed to lab rats. Lab rats, for instance, can learn that something (say food) is bad if they receive a shock every time they go near it. Human beings can "learn" that way as well. If you're trying to break a habit, pinch yourself really hard every time to engage in it, and sooner or later, you'll stop. His forearm already hurt from where he had pinched it to oblivion and he kept having to do it. He was close to getting discouraged and had to remind himself that this was day one; change doesn't happen overnight.

Right.

He knew that but he really, really wanted to put this Lori shit behind him.

Balling his fist, he knocked on the door.

No answer.

"Linc?" he called.

Nothing.

He tried the knob.

Open.

He poked his head in and looked around.

Lincoln wasn't here.

Huh.

Pushing the door all the way open, he went over and sat down on the bed. He pulled out his phone and texted Lincoln. Where are you? He waited a minute, then sat the phone beside him. He tapped his foot restlessly on the floor and nodded his head as if to music only he could hear. Five minutes in, he got bored, grabbed his phone, and went to Facebook. He scrolled until he found a thread in a Harry Potter group he was in; he was still reading it when the door closed with a soft click. "Dude, where -?"

He looked up and froze.

Clad in khaki shorts, a blue tank top, and a blonde Lori wig, Lincoln stood against the door with one foot cocked behind him and his arms crossed over his chest, a sinful little smile on his lips. His eyes were heavily shadowed with blue and his pursed lips glistened under the light with a touch of gloss. Earrings dangled from his ears, swishing back and forth like pendulums, hypnotizing him, and his teeth gently brushed across his lower lip.

Clyde blinked but the vision did not disappear.

I'm crazy, he thought, completely crazy.

This was it. His obsession with Lori had reached fever pitch and now he was seeing her instead of Lincoln. Would everyone look like Lori? Would he himself look like Lori if he dared peer into a mirror?

Lincoln-Lori pushed away from the door and walked over, hips rolling. Clyde's throat swelled closed and his heart slammed, in excitement or trepidation he could not tell. As she came, Clyde caressed her with his eyes; her legs weren't as long, but just as silky smooth; her breasts were much, much smaller, but they poked through the fabric of her tank top in tiny and suckable bumps. Clyde flushed and squirmed, his dick getting hard. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. And if it was, it wasn't Lori.

It was Lincoln.

Even if he knew this, his dick ached for her.

Lori stopped in front of him and grinned. "Hi, Clyde," Lincoln said.

"H-Hi," he managed, "w-what are you doing?"

Lincoln leaned in until her nose was almost touching Clyde's. Splaying his hands on Clyde's legs and giggling at the way he jumped, Lori said, "I'm literally seducing you." She placed his wet kiss on the corner of Clyde's mouth, then his cheek, working his way down the curve of his neck. Loricoln's breath was hot and ragged against Clyde's skin and the smell of her perfume filled his nose, intoxicating his senses. Her hands grazed his bulge and his back arched, making her laugh. She squeezed him through his pants and he let out a strangled moan. "You're really big," Lincoln said.

Clyde swallowed around a lump in his throat. Dense fog choked his brain and his body responded to Lincoln against his will. This wasn't right. This was Lincoln, not Lori, and Clyde didn't like Lincoln that way. He didn't like any boy that way. There's nothing wrong with being gay but he was straight.

Yet the feeling of Lincoln's satiny lips on his neck and the sensation of him lightly kneading his bulge were driving him mad with lust.

Pulling back, Lincori turned around and bent at the waist, sticking his-her butt in Clyde's face. She looked at him over her shoulder and licked her teeth alluringly. Cold sweat sprang to Clyde's brow and he fisted his hands in his lap, unable to move, blink, or even breathe. Lincoln put his hands on his knees and rubbed his butt against Clyde's erection. Clyde swallowed thickly and tried to regulate his breathing. Lori's body undulated with the grace and ease of the wind and Clyde licked his dry lips. "You can touch me," Lincoln panted. A bright red blush screamed across his face and his eyes were narrowed with passion.

Clyde hesitated...then cracked and cupped Lori's hips in his hands. Lori's breath caught and she purred in the back of her throat. Clyde ran his hands up and down the gentle swell of her back, up to her neck, through her hair. She threw her head back and basked in his touch, her butt pressing fully against his dick. Lori turned in his arms and shifted onto his lap, her knees on either side of his legs. Clyde's bulge prodded hers and he was reminded, almost as though he had forgotten, that this wasn't really Lori. She ran her hands over his face and fixed him with a sultry look, and all of his doubts fled away. He cupped her cheeks, brought her lips to his, and kissed her deeply, his tongue swirling hungrily around hers and exploring the inside of her mouth. Lori tilted her head to the side and kissed him back, her nails grazing his scalp and her body grinding his throbbing erection.

Slipping his hands under Lori's shirt, Clyde tweaked and massaged her tiny nipples, his tongue grappling with hers for dominance. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him, her hands flattening on his chest and pinning him to the bed. She rocked against him and moaned at the feeling of their sexes mashing together. Clyde ran his hands up her flanks and around her back, tracing her flexing shoulder blades. Lori bent, sucked his lower lip into her mouth, and playfully nipped it.

They wound up on their sides, their hands exploring each other's bodies and their tongues lapping one another. Clyde wound up on top, Lori's legs wrapped around his waist. Clyde attacked her throat with kisses, his passion rising. Lori slid her hands under his shirt and curled her fingers against his skin, her gasps and moans driving him on. He kissed her cheek, her lips, licking her tongue and dry humping her crotch. She pushed him off, got to her knees, and pulled her shorts down to reveal her panties. Clyde jammed his fingers into the waistband and yanked them down over her perfect, heart shaped ass. Her middle was pink, soft, her butt begging him to fuck it hard. He was vaguely aware of hanging testicles, but he didn't care; his body and his desire were in control.

Grabbing Lori's bare hip with one hand, he undid his pants and pulled his underwear down beneath his dick. His member stood proudly out before him and throbbed with every uneven beat of his heart. Clear fluid leaked from the tip and drizzled down his shaft. He took his and guided it to Lori's entrance, the warm touch of her skin bringing him close to the edge. He jerked his hips as hard as he could, and his dick plunged deep into Lincoln's hot, tight boipussy. Lincoln threw his head back, bunched the cover in his hands, and bit down on his lower lip to stifle a cry. His muscles bore down on Clyde's dick and his fevered walls molded perfectly to the ridges of his shaft. Lincoln pulled at the covers, shook, and hissed through his teeth,

Clyde forced himself to go slow at first so that he didn't hurt Lori, but after three thrusts he was slamming into her so hard that his balls slapped against hers. She pushed back into him and gasped for air, her earrings swinging every time his dick bottomed out. Clyde leaned over and kissed her neck, his hands covering hers and their fingers twinning together. She turned her head and they kissed with animalistic urgency. They moaned into each other's mouths and Clyde felt himself beginning to cum. He tried to hold back, not wanting this incredible moment to end, but Lori's clenching and unclenching body pulled his load out of him and he spurted deep into her guts, spraying her guy womb with his seed.

They collapsed onto the bed and lay next to each other, Lori on her stomach and Clyde on his hand, his hands resting on his stomach and his sem-erect dick twitching with aftershocks. The smog was rapidly dissipating from his brain and the stark realization of what he had done crept in like the cold, needling hand of horror itself. His heart came to a halting stop and his head twitched to the side. Lori lay there panting, globs of cum oozing from her butt.

Only it wasn't Lori and never had been.

It was Lincoln.

Some way, somehow, Clyde had lost himself to fantasies of Lori and allowed himself to fu...to fu...Lincoln. What was worse was that he knew the entire time. His hormones and his sick brain had swept him away, but he knowingly had sex with a boy.

A sudden wave of nauseating shame crashed over him, and before he knew it, he was on his feet and yanking his pants hurriedly on, his hands shaking. Lincoln pushed himself up on his hands, his butt clenching, and looked at him with a confused expression. "What are you doing?"

"I-I gotta go," he stammered. He buckled his belt and looked frantically around for his shoes. His shoes! Where were his shoes? He spotted them by the foot of the bed, crouched down, and put them on, hopping on one leg as he pulled them onto his feet.

"Wait, Clyde -"

"I'll see you tomorrow," Clyde said.

Without sparing Lincoln a single look, he fled the room like a refugee running from the pile of ash and rubble that had once been his village. Lincoln reached beseechingly out from the bed and tried to stop him, but Clyde ignored him. He didn't stop until he was outside in the waning sunlight; he leaned against a telephone pole, took a deep breath, and let it out in a shivery rush. The smell of Lincoln's perfume clung to him like a shroud and the taste of his kiss coated Clyde's lips and the inside of his mouth, thick like oil. He spat onto the ground and raked his fingers through his hair, not how to feel or what to think. He could almost convince himself it never happened, that it was all some stress induced fever dream his brain cooked up while he and Lincoln were playing video games. He started thinking about Lori like always and for some reason imagined Lincoln dressing up like her; better an imitation with a penis than nothing at all, right?

Yes, he could almost convince himself but not fully. He remembered every kiss, touch, and thrust with a vivid clarity that not even a total psychotic break could replicate. It happened...it all happened. He tried to process this, but his mind refused to compute and short circuited in a shower of metaphorical sparks. He leaned his back against the pole, threw his head back, and took a series of deep breaths.

When he trusted himself to walk, he pushed himself away from the pole, put his head down, and walked as briskly as he could as if to outrun what had happened between him and Lincoln. He got home just as the last light of day drained from the sky, leaving it purple and cold. He went straight to his room without greeting Howard and Harold and shut the door behind him. He flung himself onto the bed and lay in the darkness, his arms out on either side of him in an unconscious parody of Christ on the cross. He went back to Lincoln's bedroom and a shiver went down his spine. What was he thinking?

Better yet: Why? Why did he do it? He wasn't mistaken or in denial or anything, he liked girls. He was attracted to femininity and got genuinely turned on by females. Back at Lincoln's house, in Lincoln's bed, all of that went out the window. And not only that: He enjoyed it. God help him, he felt dirty and confused, but he liked it.

What was wrong with him? Was he gay? The two most important people in his life were gay and he had all the respect in the world for gay people. He supported gay rights and treated the gay people he knew and met like human beings, not because it was politically correct but because it was right. What reason did he have to hate on gays? They were just people trying to live their best life just like anyone else. He accepted them. He could accept himself if he was gay...but that was a pretty big IF since he wasn't. Just like Howard and Harold were born the way they were, he was born the way he was. He liked girls. Girls, girls, girls.

That didn't stop him from fucking his best friend, though.

It didn't stop him from pumping the biggest load he'd ever had into a guy's butt.

He couldn't understand it. After a while, his lust kind of took over, but how could he let himself get to that point?

Lori.

He was dressed up like Lori. That's what did it. There was no other way in the world he would have ever done what he did if Lincoln hadn't put on that wig and those clothes. No other way. Lori was Clyde's biggest weakness - the sun to his vampire - and that's what he focused on as he plowed Lincoln into his pillow, the likeness to Lori.

It wasn't exact, but it was close enough.

An image of Lincoln as Lori took shape in Clyde's mind and his heartbeat increased.

It wasn't exact...but Lincoln was really freaking cute anyway.

Clyde slapped his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple.

What should he do?

He and Lincoln had sex, for God's sake; that was a huge deal and...God, what next? Right out of the gate, their friendship would never be the same again. Their one time encounter (and that's all it would be, one time) would hang forever between them like a cloud of stink. What was the next step, though? Why did Lincoln do it? Was he attracted to Clyde? Was he in love with him? Would he get mad if Clyde didn't want to be with him?

Clyde's head ached and he rubbed his temples harder.

One thing was for certain.

He had a lot of thinking to do.