Title:  Compact
Author:  Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Author email:  jfc013@merle.it.northwestern.edu
Genre:  Slash, PWP, romance, Dave's POV
Series:  Immediately after "Mirror"; a companion piece to that title
Rating:  NC-17 for language and sexual interaction
Pairing:  D/A (there's a reason I'm not spelling those out)
Summary:  Genderfucking
Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, but exist in the Touchstone Pictures film "Sorority Boys" (2002), written by Joe Jarvis & Greg Coolidge, and directed by Wallace Woldarsky.  This story is just for
the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.
Dedication:  For Elektra, who thought there should be a sequel to "Mirror", and to Tiff, who didn't.
Notes:  This could be subtitled "Pronoun Trouble".  You have been warned.



Most nights, I sleep alone in this stupid frat house bedroom, in this skinny little bed, at least now that Leah's gone and I've moved back.  This, however, is not most nights, and I am not alone.

Instead, there are signs of pure *possibility* and promise here:

Lips, coming together.

Mouths, crushing across one another.

Hands, clasping each other desperately.

The hands in mine belong to my very best friend.  The mouth against mine does, too.  The lips are hers... his... whatever.


"Yeah?"  *Her* voice--soft and feminine.  Just because I used that name?  I'm not sure.  I don't know if she could give me a solid answer if I asked
outside of this room, out of this bed.

"Do you really want to do this?"

"What, Dave?"  I guess I'm still a boy here.  I guess I can handle that.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Say it, Dave.  Ask me."

Words.  She wants the real words.  Why is this the hard part?  "Okay.  Do you want me to make you come?"

As soon as my lips close on the consonant, hers are back against mine. There's a tongue, wanting inside.  I open, welcoming it into me, savoring
its flavors.  It tastes of beer, and sleep, and lingering salted tears. Maybe all of those are my answer:  'Yes, because I'm a little drunk.'  'Yes,
because I won't be able to sleep if I don't.'  'Yes, because if you say no, it will break my heart.'

"Uh-huh," she confirms, while fingers thread through my hair.

My tongue is left alone again, so I can talk.  "There's a lot of things we can do.  What do you want?"

"You've thought about this?"  Adam's voice cracks through just a little.

"Yeah.  I had to when I was with Leah."

"You did?  Why?"

"Daisy didn't always want to be on top."

"Oh," answers Adam, not Adina at all.

"Do *you*?"

"Do I what?"  He recedes a little into softness again.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"You mean my penis inside your ass?"

"Yeah.  That's how you would have to do it.  The plumbing doesn't work any other way."

Silence.  I look at the face in front of me.  Sloppy mop of hair, faint shadow of beard, bones so delicate I had wet dreams about him from the first
time I saw him in drag.  Maybe before.  And then there's those eyes.  Slate blue, aroused, confused, just *lost*.

"Well?" I ask, keeping my voice as neutral as I can.

"No."  Just a whisper, but decisive.

I kiss the lips that could be a girl's even without the Peachy Pink Lip Gloss with Moisturizer.  Her tongue receives mine and spars for a moment,
yielding at last.  Breathlessly, she breaks away and murmurs into my ear.  "I want something inside me..."

"What?  My fingers, my tongue...?"

"Yes... yes..."

"My cock?"

"No."  Decisive again.  "Something else..."  She squirms out of my arms and hops up, darting to Adam's bed and rummaging around underneath.  On her
return, I catch sight of what she carries in the moonlight.

"The Purple Passion?"  It's almost black in the darkened room, but just as frightening as in broad daylight, when the purple plastic nearly glows.  It's shaped like a real penis, maybe a little larger than normal, but not so big as to make your stomach hurt if you imagined it fitting inside you. That must be why she kept this one.  "Have you used it before?"

"No.  I couldn't..."

"Why not?  Were you scared?"

"No... no.  I was, um, saving myself for you."

I'd laugh if he didn't look so damned sincere.  "You want me to fuck you with this, Adina?"

"Yes, Daisy... *please*?"  This is definitely getting, er, *interesting*.

Closing my eyes, I lean over and kiss that mouth--that longshoreman-swearing, beer-belching, not-painted-pink mouth--taking everything that I once assumed about myself and throwing it out the window for once and for all.  I'm not going back to being just "that guy Dave," who likes only girls, who kisses only girls, who fucks only girls.  My cock is hard, and I'm thinking about fucking Adam, even though he won't let me do it tonight.  It doesn't even matter if I come tonight.  Nope.  That Dave is dead and buried.

She's shinnying out of her shirt, showing me her flat, slightly fuzzy chest. "Oh, Daisy!" she moans as I kiss down her throat and head for a tiny, dark
nipple that rises and firms in my mouth.  "Yes, yessss..." she hisses, and I run my hand the length of the body before me, sliding down over the
drawstring of the sweatpants and stroking the hardness within just to make her shudder.

"Adina?  Can I take off your pants?" I ask softly.  The answer is an upward thrust of her hips, so I grab the free end of the string at her waistband and pull, then yank down the fabric at her knees.  Grey fleece pools around her ankles, but she is isn't naked.  Red.  Adam's aroused penis stretches out from the top of Adina's red panties.  If I were thinking straight, this image would terrify the hell out of me.  Luckily, I stopped thinking about twenty minutes ago.  "Do you want me to take off your panties?"

Her thumbs hook over the top of the feminine underwear and drag them off, making Adam's maleness bob free.  "You're beautiful naked, baby," I murmur,
and I mean it.  The sharp edges of shoulder and hip flow into muscled legs, back to a soft, rounded bottom.  Quickly, I grab a pillow and shove it under
her ass, tug the clothes from her feet, and dart up to my nightstand drawer for a tube of KY.

For the first time, I take hold of his cock, which is familiar and new all at once, and I don't even stroke it.  I just let my fingers curl around it, feeling how heavy it is, how warm, how hard.  With my other hand, I tickle his perineum, then brush across the only entrance I can find.

When I was fourteen and I read my first dirty magazine, I didn't just want to penetrate a girl's pussy with my dick:  I wished I could crawl bodily inside her and understand everything about girls--what it felt like to be a girl, where it felt good to touch a girl's body, why they wouldn't go out with me.  Okay, so I got over the last one, anyway.  Now here I am, because of a dumb college stunt, realizing at last how much I have always wanted to be a girl as *well* as a boy...

I get comfortable on my belly between her legs, noting the angular, slender hands that hold her ankles.  At least Leah sometimes liked to get rimmed, so
it's not that different now.  It's just that it's *Adam*...  well, Adina, like that makes any difference.  The sound she makes when I lick around her hole are high and needy, and grow louder as I plunge my tongue inside her.  I hold a cock in each hand--mine and his--and neither left nor right dares move for fear of ruining everything.

"Oh, God, Dave!" she cries out, though she could have been saying "Daisy" and left off the last syllable.  Her hips rise, wrenching my goal away slightly, but she settles down and lets me get back to work.  Jab in, stroke out, lap, lap, lap...  She makes wonderful little sexy moans until I decide she's had enough.

I pull my head away from her anus, then let go of myself and open the lube with one hand, getting it on my fingers with a little effort.  "You want some more, hon?" I ask, and almost don't wait for the open-mouthed "Uh-huh" to push a slicked finger inside her.  When I add another, I reach in deeper and search around until I find my goal.  An intentional rub against the firm gland produces a groan, his hips lifting and thrusting his cock through my fingers.

"What do you want now, baby?" I whisper, Daisy's voice overriding my own.

Adam's face looks at me with Adina's eyes, and answers me in Adina's voice. "Fuck me, sweetie!  Fuck me now!"

Letting go of the erection in front of my face, I grab the lube again and apply it liberally to the purple plastic dildo.  "I think this is gonna hurt, so don't tense up--okay?"

She bites her lip nervously, but nods at me to go ahead.  Holding the muscles as far open as I can, I introduce plastic to flesh.  Adina doesn't make any noise--I think she's trying to be brave, and I'm proud of her for that.  In it goes, as slowly as I can manage.  "Ohhhh," she moans at last, maybe in pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask, hearing two voices in my head.

"Yeah, it's fine.  You're right--it hurts, but I don't care.  I can take it."

Right now I wish she were a real girl, and I were fucking her for the first time.  There'd be a little blood, and maybe a little pain, but it would be over fast, and I wouldn't feel so goddamn guilty for hurting her like this. "How much further?" she asks, strain evident in her voice.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no.  Try pulling it out a little and putting it back in.  That might help..."

I do as she asks, but she still cries out when I push it into her.  "Adina, honey?  I can't do this.  I don't want to hurt you."

There is no sound from the head of the bed, and I peek up at her.  She is crying softly.  As quickly as I can, I withdraw the plastic invader, then crawl up to her and take her in my arms again.

Unruly black hair, instead of soft strawberry blonde, nestles on my shoulder as I comfort my sister, my friend.  "I'm sorry," she sobs, every bit a heartbroken girl, except in body.  "I really wanted to do that, and I just couldn't..."

"Shhh...  shhhh..." I hush her gently.  "It's okay.  It's not your fault. Don't cry, baby.  We can still do something else..."

Scrubbing her face into my shirt, she wipes her eyes roughly.  "You still want to do this?"

"Yeah, I do," I answer, because it's the truth.  "I could fuck you for real--I bet it would feel better than that hard plastic thing..."

She looks surprised.  "You'd do that for me?"

With one arm still around her, I raise her chin and press my mouth against hers, wordlessly promising her the moon.  "Let me try," I offer, knowing how
difficult this is for Daisy, and embarrassed at how easy this would be for the old Dave.

"Okay," she agrees, still sounding like she needs to blow her nose.  I strip off my t-shirt and pajama pants before I lose my nerve.

Selecting a condom from my nightstand drawer, I open the packet and put it on as quickly as I can.  How pathetic is it that I am still hard after listening to her cry?  Dousing my cock with some more KY, I reposition myself between her legs, then approach her opening even more slowly than before.

The sex toy has given me some advantage, as the muscles are still looser than they would be ordinarily.  Adina inhales sharply as I start to enter her, but I can still tell from her sounds that it's easier for her this way.

"Does that feel better?" I ask, sliding in gently as far as I dare.

"Yeah," she sighs, putting her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a small kiss.  "Keep doing that."

I do as she asks, rocking my hips forward and back to stroke into her again and again.  My hand finds Adam's cock again, which is hard and leaking, so I
pull at it like it were my own.

Our eyes meet, and I feel some strange spark in my gut.  Maybe her earlier quest for a mirror is over.  Together we reflect each other--boys wanting to be girls--like the hinged compact I used to carry in my purse.  If I look at her at just the right angle, I can see our images bouncing back against each other to infinity.

"I'm gonna come," says Adam's voice, and I can't say I don't miss Adina's a little.  He shoots all over our stomachs, and the spasm jerks through his ass and makes me come inside him.

Somehow, though, the mirrors don't break.  I see myself in Adam's eyes, and I hope he can see himself in mine.  He kisses me, not Adina anymore, and
there is fresh salt on my tongue, maybe from my own tears this time.  We don't say anything, especially not *that*, because we really can't, but also
because we really don't have to.  Our smiles cement our bond more securely than any words could ever hope to do.

Maybe the possibility I could sense earlier is coming true.  One last kiss to seal the promise between us, and I fall asleep, suspecting that I won't be sleeping alone anymore.


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