wook77 | Fic: HP: Dean/Seamus: La Femme Comme un Homme

Title: Le Femme Comme un Homme
Author:

wook77
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3346
Warnings: cross-dressing, almost completely PWP, brief brief brief mentions of past het relationships
Summary: It starts as a small obsession, hidden beneath robes, and blossoms into an encounter he hadn't expected.
Author's Notes: For the

pornish_pixies Internet is for Porn Challenge. I simply couldn't resist mixing Lolita fashion, porn and almost underage sex together. Unfortunately, with this pairing, it's impossible to add in some good old-fashioned incest but I thought about it and, hey, it's the thought that counts, right? I also admit to knowing no more about Lolita fashion than what the wiki could tell me. I also admit to not writing much cross-dressing before either. Title (Woman Like a Man) taken from a song by Damien Rice and translated into French because I'm pretentious like that and I just enjoy that song and thought it kinda sorta fit. Many thanks to my beta,

yodels, any remaining mistakes are my own.

It starts out as a small obsession, one he indulges in every great once in awhile. Every time he slides his sister's lacy knickers on, his cock swells. He can't resist angling himself in front of the mirror, standing far away to even see himself because it's hung far too high for normal viewing. But after taking a look, he always slips them off, into the basket for washing, and tells himself that it's the last time.

Until the next time when he borrows knickers and a bra. Thanking God that he has a flat-chested sister, he stares at the way the matching cotton sets off his skin tone, the way that the curve of the demi-cup of the bra shows the freckles that swirl on his skin right above a nipple. His cock is harder this time, bulging the fragile cotton and lace creation to shift low on his hips. A small sound outside his door has him cursing and stripping so that when his mam enters without knocking, he's naked as the day he was born and the cotton is hidden in a pile under a frantically tossed blanket.

"Seamus Finnigan, cover up your bits! Christ, lad, get some sort of modesty, you'd think that at your age, you'd be realising just what you're to be covering up." She blushes and stammers but boldly moves about the room, settling laundry and straightening pillows. Seamus is so shocked that she's there and straightening the blankets that cover his secret that he doesn't think to cover himself or answer. His mind's too fixated on nonono and not enough on saving himself. It's a relief that she disappears right back out of the room as quickly as she came, looking at him one last time with a final shake of her head.

Once she leaves, he reaches under the blankets and rubs the fabric between his fingers. It's soft and well worn and that's not a concept he's really wanting to consider, not when it comes to Deirdre and her boyfriends. He'd much rather think about getting some of his own. The problem is that when he goes to town, he's forced to go with the family and there isn't much opportunity to slip away and purchase them.

When he returns to Hogwarts, he takes the cotton and hides them deep in his trunk. Dean asks him about his summer and Seamus only answers that it was illuminating. He thinks of the knickers when he says it and doesn't realise that his smile brightens so that he looks happier than he's been in a very long time.

The first year at Hogwarts after he discovers his love of knickers, he finds it easy to hide them, to wear them on Hogsmeade weekends when he's walking around with Dean or Lavender or Parvati. It's when the girls are giggling about some prank or other that he thinks of a way to get more knickers. He offers to prank Dean, slip some girly knickers in his drawer and let one of the other boys find it, if they'll only get some for him. What he doesn't mention is that he's planning on keeping them for himself.

The plan succeeds and soon enough, he has enough knickers to satisfy himself. Still careful, he hides them under denims or robes and makes sure that no one else can see him in them. When he's fighting with one of the other lads, when he's stressed for an exam, when he's wanking, he thinks of the knickers, feels them across his arse and they reassure him.

There's a moment of panic when they're packing their trunks after Dumbledore's funeral. Dean's helping him pack and stumbles across a pair of shockingly pink knickers and a matching bra. Seamus thinks he's pulled the lie off well enough that Dean thinks they're a trophy from a bird he pulled. He's not the best liar in the world, Dean's face shows his doubt at Seamus's stammered response.

That summer, Seamus escapes from the world – his mam, his sisters, his brothers, Voldemort – by sneaking out and buying knickers. Possibly charming paper to look like Muggle money isn't the most honest way of acquiring but the Finnigans aren't exactly well off so its either that or he blatantly steals them. At least this way, it can't be traced back to him.

As the deaths increase, the knickers and bras no longer quite help him escape. Everything's pressing in and he needs another escape, something more than a pair of flashy green knickers with a hole in the crotch. He isn't sure what that "something more" could be, he just knows that he needs… a display in the window catches his eye and he sees the flirty dress, the ruffles and sassy skirt, the stockings, and the heels. It's the chaste and, at the same time, highly seductive neckline that draws him in.

He guesses at his size as he has no idea and quickly purchases the entire ensemble. Making small conversation about a gift for his sister, he gets away from the clerk and leaves the fake money behind. Once he's outside of the store, the temptation to Apparate, put a locking charm on his door and dress in the entire ensemble is so strong that he has wand in hand before he realises.

Giddy, he hurries down an alley, Apparates to the back garden and then scurries up the steps to his room. Glorious freedom of nudity follows the locking door and he's careful as he pulls on a new pair of knickers, ones that match the dress. The bra follows and then, hands shaking, he pulls the dress from the bag. He's not sure if he should step into it and tug it up over his hips or if he should slide it down over his head. He'd ask his sisters but he's sure that they'd want to know why he wanted to know that.

Deciding on the over the head route, his cock hardens so fast it's almost painful as the dress slides over his flesh and settles into place. It needs taken in in places, just a few minor adjustments and it'll be perfect. In fact, the only thing that isn't perfect is the hair on his legs. A flick of his wand fixes that and he pulls the stockings up, one at a time, unrolling them slowly but surely as he stretches out his leg and points his toes. He can feel his knickers getting wet from his excitement and when the first stocking is on, Seamus presses his palm against his cock to keep himself from coming right then and there. It would ruin the entire experience if he comes now.

The other stocking goes on much faster and then he slips his feet into the knee-high boots. Enlarging the mirror, he turns this way and that as he admires himself in the mirror. The scratchy ruffles of the underskirt tease his bare thighs and he knows he isn't going to last long though he's trying his hardest. His hand snakes under the skirt and frees his cock before squeezing the base as hard as he can, staving off the orgasm that threatens. Up until now, he hasn't even touched himself, hasn't needed to because of all the changing fabrics and sensations. Hell, for once, the visual stimulation is more than enough.

The tip of his cock pokes out from under the skirt where his arm dents the petticoat. Entranced at the sight of himself looking like this, he doesn't hear the door open, hasn't a clue that Dean's standing in the doorway and that his secret is now completely out in the open. Instead, his hand starts moving, pulling on his cock in an almost painfully tight grip. When he reaches the tip, his cock disappears underneath the petticoat again. When he drifts back down, his arm presses the skirts close enough to his skin that it reappears.

It's the strangled moan that sends his gaze winging towards the door. There's no hiding what he's doing, no chance to think of an explanation as there simply isn't any explanation for what he's wearing. Flushing in embarrassment and mortification, his orgasm builds until he's dripping and seconds from coming.

Dean, on the other hand, is breathless as well. Frozen in place like Neville in First Year, Seamus's afraid and mortified and embarrassed and so fucking turned on by Dean seeing him in this. Seamus can't move. The gasping noises from Dean send Seamus over the edge and he comes, crying out with the absolute ferocity of it and he's lucky that he's still standing. There're more of the noises though they're partially drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears.

Dean's hand slips down to his crotch and presses. That's when Seamus realises that Dean is turned on, turned on, by the sight of Seamus in his frilly schoolgirl outfit. It's unexpected, but considering that the buzz of his orgasm is still burning through him, he can't quite bring himself to do anything other than what he does. His hand slides off his cock, letting it disappear behind the ruffles and ever so slowly, brushes his fingers across his mouth before sucking in one after another, cleaning them and getting rewarded by the gaping mouth and strangled moans.

Those moans went straight back to Seamus's cock. He wants to walk over there, strutting with a sassy step but as this is the first time he's worn these sorts of shoes and considering the height of the heel, he thinks that that isn't a good idea. He might be turned on and teasing his best mate – something that he's sure he'll regret in about five minutes – but he's not so far out of it that he doesn't remember the first time his sister wore heels.

It's as his thumb slips into his mouth and he closes his eyes, finally breaking that awkward and charged staring contest they'd been engaged in, that he feels Dean's hands on him, cupping his face. He pulls his thumb from his mouth and Dean brutally presses lip to lip. There's far too much teeth and not enough tongue but it doesn't matter because Dean tastes like strawberries. Seamus knows that he'll never be able to taste strawberries without thinking of Dean and the dress and the scratchy feeling of new lace.

When Seamus reaches his hands around to touch the back of Dean's head, Dean reacts with a nip of his teeth on Seamus's lower lip. He opens his mouth to gasp at the sharp pleasure pain and Dean takes advantage by thrusting his tongue in. Now it's just the right mix of teeth and tongue as Seamus's skirt teases and moves and he can feel the rough fabric of Dean's trousers on his upper thighs and across his cock.

Dean presses forward and Seamus backs up and Dean presses forward until they're walking across the room towards the bed and Seamus wonders if this is such a good idea, if this isn't going to change everything for the worst. He's really not wanting to lose Dean because he's not just Seamus's first friend or his best friend, he's Seamus's other half in personality and looks and good Christ but the feel of Dean's hand lifting his skirts by running a hand up Seamus's upper thigh feels amazing.

When Dean's hand reaches Seamus's cock, Seamus can't help but break the kiss and arch backwards, almost keening his pleasure of those long fingers enveloping him. Dean's hands feel even better than the lace or the cotton because they're warm and smooth but calloused at the same time. It's an odd observation but it makes sense in the midst of the perfectly imperfect touch. The lack of experience in that grip is fairly obvious but that only makes it better for Seamus because it's not his own hand and it's still strong and sure and feels so much more than Lavender's hand ever had.

For their part, Seamus's hands aren't still either. They're not sure where to touch as there's so much in Dean's lanky build to experience but he does his best, gripping hair and giving a slight tug, ripping the shirt from where it's tucked into the trousers, sliding up into that warm hollow before spearing down into the trousers to cup Dean's arse and bring their cocks closer together. Extricating his hands, Seamus tries to undo Dean's trousers but he's fumbling and he thinks that he's coming off like an arse that has no fucking clue what to do, but that's just exactly what he is and he hopes that Dean won't hold it against him. He prays that it's alright that his fingers keep brushing Dean's stomach instead of getting the button to pop loose so he can feel Dean's cock in his own hands.

Finally, Dean pushes his hands away and undoes the trousers for him. In fact, Dean takes it one step further and pulls his own cock out, thrusting forward so he can wank both of them at the same time. Seamus thrusts up as much as he can from his precarious position and then decides, fuck it and brings his feet up off the floor and around Dean's waist.

He looks down and the sight of the white lace and Dean's dark skin and his own freckled cock and the grey of Dean's trousers and the tan of his bedding and the brown of the floor and the muted daylight and all the other colours that are so visually stunning that he can't quite breathe, can't catch his breath. It's then that his second orgasm sweeps through him, balls tightening and cock feeling like it's exploding. This time, he's sure he's passed out and missed Dean coming because when he opens his eyes, Dean's face has relaxed from that screwed-up expression from just a few seconds – or minutes, he's not entirely certain – ago.

They're panting and sweaty and sticky. Seamus feels a bit odd and awkward but he doesn't move his legs other than to twist ankle around ankle. The boots are heavy and he feels a bit obscene in his position so he rationalises that if he doesn't look at Dean, then everything that just happened won't change a thing. With that sort of logic, he buries his face into Dean's neck and breathes in the scent of sweat and Dean and pleasure.

As he breathes, he deliberately doesn't wonder how Dean got to Ireland so unexpectedly or why he was even there. He doesn't think about the fact that Dean's seen him in a dress and knickers. He doesn't think about that surreal staring contest while Dean had stood in the doorway.

The doorway. They'd left the door open and Seamus's mam could've heard the entire thing. Even now, she could be walking up the steps and if she looked into the room, she'd see them with their cocks hidden by the ruffled skirt and his secret'd be out even further and even worse than Dean finding out that he likes girls' clothing is the idea of his mam finding out. She isn't the most tolerant woman in the first place so the idea of this has his breath speeding up. Dean floods his senses but he shoves at Dean's shoulders and unlocks his ankles.

He hurries away from the bed and Dean. There's no one in the doorway and, even better, no one moving around downstairs so he slams the door shut, grabs his wand from the top of his dresser and casts the strongest locking charm he knows. He grabs the chair from the corner and shoves it under the knob as an added precaution.

Only then, when he's guaranteed some sort of warning that his mam's attempting to get in, does he calm a bit. Until he turns and sees Dean lying on his side, head on folded arm, in his bed with his cock tucked back away and the zipper done up though the button is left unfastened. Now's the time for awkward conversations and Seamus isn't quite sure how to start.

"Dean, I've liked girls' knickers since I was a little boy" doesn't quite seem like the best place to start. "Dean, so sorry I lied to you earlier and, hey, would you be willing to not tell a soul about the dress thing" also doesn't seem like a good conversational gambit.

"Seamus," Dean starts at the same time Seamus says, "Dean".

"You go first," they both say at the same time. It breaks the mood and they laugh nervously.

"I, um, I," Seamus stammers.

"I didn't expect you to be in a dress when I came upstairs," Dean admits quietly.

"Just bought it today, was trying it on for the first time when you caught me. I know that it's…" Seamus can't think of the appropriate word.

"I've known about the knickers since beginning of last year. Worried me at first but then I thought that it didn't really matter, if it made you happy. Then, I started to wonder what it looked like, you know? So, I followed you into the loo a couple of times, caught you changing a few times and, Christ this is embarrassing." Dean rakes his free hand through his hair while Seamus leans against the door. "I wanked."

It's said in a rush, blurred into one sound so that it takes a moment to register in Seamus's head. "You did?"

"Yeah, not proud of it."

"So this," Seamus gestures towards the dress and the bed and the boots and everything, "isn't completely crazy to you?"

"Completely? No," Dean gives a quick bark of laughter before continuing, "but it's not really sane, is it? I mean, we just… and then we… and you're…"

"Yeah, I know." And he does. He knows exactly what Dean is talking about because he's thinking the exact same thing. The dynamics between them have changed and there isn't any going back to the innocent teasing and friendship they'd had before. "You regret it?"

Dean looks thoughtful before pushing off the bed and approaching Seamus. He towers over Seamus, the familiar reflection calms Seamus just a bit more. Seamus reaches out, straightens the cloth of Dean's shirt, and stares at his chest while waiting for the answer.

"Not if you don't," is the answer and Seamus wonders about his own response because there's a question built in there, he can hear it. Seamus does regret it as he'd liked the way things were before but considering how much the world is changing and how the attacks are increasing and he'd definitely enjoyed himself and that Dean is his opposite in so many ways, it almost makes sense that they might've ended up in this place anyway, regardless of the dress.

If Seamus answers one way, he could lose Dean for turning down the implied offer. If Seamus answers the other way, he could lose Dean when the relationship ends, if it ends. Does he even want a relationship with Dean other than friendship? His thoughts go back to the unbelievable feel of Dean touching him and he thinks that it might just be worth it.

"Don't regret it," he says and looks up to see Dean's smile spreading. Seamus answers with a slightly more nervous one of his own.

"It's a nice dress," Dean whispers as he plays with the sleeves and the collar of the dress before drifting down to the bustier part. His hands tickle at Seamus's chest through the fabric and Seamus can't quite help the slight shiver he gives.

"If I'd known you were coming, I would've gotten a better one," Seamus quips back and Dean freezes before tossing his head back and laughing so hard that it echoes in the small room.

Seamus joins in and then Dean's hands are on him again and this time, it feels amazing as he slowly slides the zipper down.

It feels right.

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