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“Showbiz!” Harry said instead of the more typical “ta-da” as she produced a cardboard box full of drag supplies from her closet. Louis rolled her eyes at Harry’s Murray Hill reference, biting back a giggle.
“Still can’t believe I didn’t know this about you,” Louis said, leaning back on her elbows on Harry’s bed.
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Harry upended the box on her bed, cursing softly as an old makeup palette opened, spreading its crumbling contents onto her duvet. “It’s ok, that stuff was too old to use anyway,” she said, grabbing her small trash can and dropping the makeup in. Louis looked to the mess and then at Harry.
“It’s ok, go get your little hoover, I know you’re dying to,” Louis said, nodding toward the door. “I’ll wait.”
Harry leaned down to kiss her, the quick peck turning into a few deeper kisses without either of them intending it. Before Harry could climb on top of her, Louis gave a little push to her hips. “Go, baby. There’s plenty of time for that after our little lesson, yeah?”
“Yes,” Harry sighed, a slight pout on her lips. Louis knew she wasn’t actually disappointed though, mostly because they’d almost certainly have sex before the night was done. That was one of the benefits of finally living together: they rarely had to choose between sex and casually hanging out anymore.
After a quick vacuuming session on Harry’s part (Louis just stayed out of the way), it was time to get back to the task at hand. Harry was going to put Louis in drag.
It started with Harry seeing a TikTok about a drag king competition show called “King of Drag” that was on one of the niche streaming apps. Louis had only teased her about it a little bit-- “oh, is it on deebo, Harry? Is it literally on poob?” --before admitting she was, in fact, quite eager to watch it.
They were only a few episodes into the relatively short season, but they were already hooked. As the most recent episode came to end, Louis had leaned her head back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve always thought it would be cool to do proper drag, with a name and everything,” she mused, idly considering what songs she might want to perform to.
“It is,” Harry had said, cuddling deeper into Louis’ side. It had taken a moment for Louis to register what Harry said, but once she’d gotten Harry’s brief explanation-- that she’d been part of a small drag troupe in college and had performed off and on for a few years after that --she insisted that Harry put her in drag immediately.
It had taken a couple of days for Harry to actually remember where she’d stored her drag accoutrement, but once she had, they set aside a night for the whole drag she-bang. Harry would help Louis into drag and then get into her old drag persona (Randy Dandy) for the night too. She promised to try to recreate one of her acts from the old days, but only if Louis agreed to play whatever role she asked. It was a win-win scenario if ever there was one.
“Okay,” Harry said, clapping her hands together as she came back from putting away the vacuum. “Before we actually start getting you dressed, we need to figure out who you are.” She paused, giving Louis a once over. “Dick Swinger? Rod Packer? Big Daddy Dandy?”
Louis laughed. “Does that last one mean we’re related? Am I your drag father?”
“Oh babe,” Harry said, booping Louis on the nose, “if anything I’d be your drag father.” Louis pretended to nip at Harry’s finger, making her giggle. “But I was thinking we’d be drag husbands.”
“They’re all good, but I actually had a name in mind already?”
“Ooh! Tell me, Lou!” Harry clasped her hands in front of her chest.
“Philip Cunnies,” Louis said, pressing her lips together as she waited for a reaction from Harry. She was rewarded with Harry biting her lip as a wide grin spread across her face.
“Tell me more, tell me more,” Harry sing-songed.
Louis cleared her throat, toying with the string of her joggers. “Well, I was picturing a kind of old fashioned British captain of industry. He’s always talking about wanting to make things bigger, but you don’t exactly know what he means until he pulls out a big strap and starts gesturing with it.” Harry’s eyes lit up, so Louis continued. “I really like the idea of him having a cigar that’s always getting fatter, just this massive thing that he chews on while he’s performing.”
“The homoeroticism!” Harry grinned, starry-eyed, and Louis nodded enthusiastically.
“I imagine he’d say things like,” Louis sat up straight, puffing out her chest, and put on a posh accent that was nothing like her Northern one, “‘I say, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar,’ while eyeing up another guy’s crotch.”
“I love it, baby!” Harry started pawing through her stash of items, handing a few things to Louis right away. “You’ll definitely want facial hair, and maybe we can slick your hair back or hide it under a hat? You have a suit, right?”
“You really like it?” Louis looked at the things Harry had handed her so far, spirit gum and a sack of wiry facial hair pieces. “And you think I could pull off mutton chops?”
“Honey, Randy Dandy thinks there’s nothin’ you couldn’t pull off,” Harry drawled, her Texas accent turning slower and sultry. The sound made Louis’ thighs clench. There was no way she was going to survive the full show.
With Harry’s approval acquired, it was time to get Louis into drag. Louis pulled out a grey suit Harry had thrifted for her that, while it was in great condition, was just oversized enough that it needed tailoring. Looser clothing smoothed out curves, Harry explained, which would not only give Louis a more masculine appearance but could also help her move differently if she got into drag more often.
“Put this in your boxer briefs,” Harry said as she handed Louis a rolled up pair of athletic socks, “and practice walking in front of the mirror. Once you let yourself be aware of the bulge, you can let it influence how you walk and sit.”
“So you’re saying all it takes to make me spread my legs is a little fake dick?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
“Welllll, if that’s how you’d put it, let’s just say I wouldn’t argue,” Harry teased, reaching down to adjust Louis’ sock bulge from over her trousers. The motion made Louis’ breath catch; if she hadn’t been so caught up in the excitement of the drag experience she would’ve considered dragging Harry to bed then and there. Instead they kept going.
Harry pushed Louis into a chair and leaned over her, marking where to apply the faux facial hair with a brow pencil that she used to thicken Louis’ brows while she was at it. Harry was still dressed in her normal lounge clothes, a tank top and shorts, and Louis took advantage of the view, eyes fixed on Harry’s lush cleavage as they waited for the adhesive to set.
“Did you used to do anyone else’s makeup, or mostly your own?” Louis asked when Harry momentarily paused. She imagined how jealous she probably would’ve felt if she had to watch Harry do this to a roomful of other people.
“Mostly my own. I was kind of a baby king, really. But I learned enough to hold my own by the end.” She tapped a bronzer stick along the hollows of Louis’ cheeks and rubbed it in, using the excess under Louis’ eyes. “I’m not going as heavy as I would if we were really performing, though. This doesn’t need to read from onstage.”
“Right,” Louis said, skin starting to itch from the hair that Harry had attached to her face. Harry sent her to the bathroom to look herself over soon after, and Louis immediately found herself transfixed by the change in her demeanor. Her hips canted forward a bit to let her bulge lead her movement, and she turned this way and that, studying the effect the hair had on her face shape.
“If you’d been a drag king when I was,” Harry said, shaking her head as she watched Louis in the mirror, “I would’ve asked if you wanted to fill up my cunny on night one.” Harry paused as if considering, then reached down to palm Louis’ bum. “Even if I wouldn’t have known what a cunny was.”
“You would’ve known,” Louis said, pushing into Harry’s touch and reaching behind herself to move Harry even closer. “Or I would’ve shown you.” Louis turned her head, meeting Harry’s lips in a kiss that made her once again consider abandoning this entire project in favor of going to bed together.
“Speaking of showing,” Harry said, pulling back from their kiss and ignoring Louis’ soft whine. “It’s time for me to show you Randy Dandy. I used to be pretty fast at getting myself together. Wanna work on slicking your hair back and then meet me in the living room?
“Yes,” Louis said with a quiet sigh. She really did want to see Harry’s full drag persona even more than she wanted to play around in her own.
True to her word, Harry got her look together in no more than ten minutes, a far cry from the forty-five it had taken her to perfect Louis’. Louis had only just gotten settled on the couch-- manspreading like a champ --when she heard Harry coming. She closed her eyes to get the full force of the reveal, waiting until Harry said, “open up, Cunnies,” in that same drawl she’d used earlier.
If Louis thought she knew what to expect, she was wrong. She opened her eyes to see Harry’s ass clad in red ruffled panties and framed by a pair of worn in brown leather chaps. Her gaze would’ve been stuck there if Harry hadn’t whistled at her, drawing Louis’ eyes up to her face, where she sported a perfect 70s era pornstache. She looked at Louis from over her shoulder, glittery red lips spread out in a pleased grin.
Setting her phone down on the coffee table, Harry began to tap one cowboy booted foot to the rhythm of a country song. Louis wasn’t familiar with it, but she quickly recognized the sound of Dolly Parton’s voice singing. If she had to guess, it was probably called Romeo, judging by the one word she was sure she heard repeating.