Man, I Feel Like A Woman [Open]

[cypress]

It wasn't like this was even embarrassing for him, although it was definitely going to be a little bit awkward when the teachers started asking him questions. He'd done it for a few hours before, never during class, and to be honest most people hadn't given him a second glance. After all, he made a pretty good girl, if slightly broad shouldered. However, doing this for a week? His feet were going to kill him if he'd decided to wear heels for the entire time (which thankfully he hadn't - sneakers were amazing and, thank god, unisex), and he was thankful that he had to wear a school uniform for a good part of it.

Why he had a girl's uniform and where he'd gotten it from, no one ever wanted to really know, but he did and it was useful. He'd gotten one of the seventh year Gryffindors to magically lengthen his hair (wearing a wig for a week was not an option, and he couldn't work extensions for his life) and it was a bit weird having it shoulder length, so he'd gotten one of the girls to put it up in a ponytail for him. He was glad she hadn't asked any questions, actually - maybe news of the dare had already spread far and fast? The Hogwarts grapevine was a speedy little fucker.

Cypress did, as usual, take a moment to think that it was a bit breezy in a skirt, before shrugging and dealing with it, walking into the courtyard with his usual poise, bag hung over one shoulder. He sat down on a wall, making sure to cross his legs (that was one disadvantage to skirts, definitely) and pulled out a copy of his Charms book, shivering slightly. It was a bit nippy out here, but he didn't want to sit in the library or the common room, and he did have to get it done. Biro at the ready (he'd never been very good with quills), he shoved the end of it in his mouth and began to chew as he started searching for the correct page.

[arturobrigstocke]

Art was out in the cold again. For what felt like the millionth time, he’d been unable to find anywhere inside that wasn’t full of ridiculously noisy idiots, whose heads he would have ended up bashing in with whatever he could get his hands on first, had he stayed around them for a sustained period of time. Even the library wasn’t safe any more - the usual librarian had been absent of late, which left Professor Blake - perhaps the most useless teacher ever to walk the face of the earth - to flap about like a headless chicken in the most pathetic attempt to keep students in check that Art had ever seen.

Which only left one option - the courtyard. It was cold - the autumn weather was setting in so early that year it felt like summer had never even begun - but it was more sheltered from the wind than most of the grounds, and at least it was quiet most of the time, or at least more quiet than all the other options he had.

However, as he stepped out into the cool, paved area, he realised it had one major downfall. Cypress Brown.

Under any other circumstances, Art would have been delighted to see his friend, but at that very moment, he wanted to turn around and run. There were several reasons for this sudden onset of the fight or flight response, the main one being that Cypress was in a skirt, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just not what Art needed right then. What he needed was not to be anywhere near his hot friend and to concentrate on his work.

And then there was the fact that it was for a dare. Even though he’d given it a wide birth - save for one minor outburst - he couldn’t help but be affected by that stupid fucking game. He wished Cy would stay the hell away from it; Seth fucking Hevulen had dared him to jump off the astronomy tower, and if Art knew Cypress, he’d do just that. It was so fucking idiotic, Art could hardly put it into words.

Unfortunately, he was being entirely distracted from being angry by how good Cy was looking. Sliding his finger under the strap of his shoulder bag to hold it up as it threatened to slide down his arm, he made his way over to where the other boy was sat. “Nice legs” He said, plonking himself down next to his friend and pulling his bag onto his lap. He at least needed to try to do some work, although he wasn’t sure that Cypress wouldn’t prove more distracting than the contents of the Ravenclaw common room and the library combined.

[cypress]

Okay, skirts sucked. It was official. The weather just wasn't warm enough for skirts and he didn't know how half the girls in school could walk around in this weather without even wearing leggings or something, but they did and he was just suffering because he hadn't managed to get leggings anyway. He'd rolled his socks up as high as they'd go, knee length, but in typical fashion they'd fallen straight back down and were bunched up around his ankles. He looked over the top of his knees and glared at the offending articles of clothing before returning to his work. He still hadn't found the page, and he'd been sure he'd folded down the edge, but the book was completely dog-eared anyway, having been brought off a student in the year above him at the beginning of the year, so looking for the last creased page was no help either.

Fortunately for him, anyway, he was distracted from his work as someone sat down beside him and declared that he had good legs. He looked at his legs, clean shaven for the dare, and grinned. He knew who was beside him from the voice, and looked up to prove his guess was correct. His best mate, Art. He shrugged, uncrossing his legs and sticking one out in front of him as if to admire them a little more. ”You think so? I thought they were a little chunky,” he replied, settling the biro on his parchment as he did so. He looked back at Art to see his reaction.

”So what brings you out here on this fine, chilly day? Or did you just want to admire my legs?” he asked, just teasing him. He paused, and then nodded. ”Or maybe you're psychic and you knew that I have no idea what my homework is and you wanted to distract me! That's so sweet of you,” he laughed, throwing an arm around Art.

[arturobrigstocke]

Art snorted and started rummaging through his bag. He really couldn’t have expected Cy to come out with anything else, really, he was a drama queen at the best of times, let alone when he was actually playing a part “Dude, you’re just dressed up as a girl, you’ve not actually turned into one” He said without looking up “Next thing you’ll be saying ‘does my bum look big in this’” He avoided actually looking at them, the implicit question in what Cypress had said - that would lead in to waters too dangerous for him to cope with, not without a metaphoric harpoon, at any rate.

Cy did have nice legs, though, which really wasn’t what Art needed to be thinking about unless he wanted to make another impromptu visit to the boys bathrooms. It made him feel quite sick at himself, that he’d think about his best friend in that way. He liked guys, that was fine, and he liked Cypress, and they were good friends, best friends, he like to think, and he didn’t want to taint that. So he pulled out his Lorca book from his bag and flicked reflexively to the right page.

It wasn’t like he thought about it all the time; he was perfectly capable of being around Cy without being perverted - in fact, he was probably less perverted than usual around Cy, outwardly, at least, just to be on the safe side - it was just the fact that he had his legs out and the slightest of glances told Art he’d shaved them. And Art had no idea what to think about that.

But this was Cypress, his friend, and just hearing him talk, even if it did momentarily mention legs, was enough to shake Art back to reality. “God, did that girl change more than just your hair? Is there something you want to tell me?” He gave Cy a serious look, but couldn’t sustain it, especially not after his friend next comment. He laughed and ducked out from under Cypress’s arm. Now that was a lot more familiar that the skirt and the hair. “I wouldn’t need to be psychic to know that” He stuck his tongue out, suddenly feeling very childish, and his piercing nearly caught on his teeth, which was probably karma getting him back for acting so infantile.

He gave a short, soft laugh at himself, swept his hair out of his eyes with a practiced movement of the hand and flicked his eyes back to the book he was holding, which had fallen closed over his thumb. “But no, guess again. Spanish coursework calls me. Fun fun fun. He was feeling oddly self conscious. Usually he was at total ease around Cypress, he could be completely himself - well, almost completely - but apparently not right then. It was probably the skirt, he decided, there couldn’t be any other reason. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d be able to last a week of this.

[cypress]

Cypress pouted a little at not getting more of a reaction out of his friend. He shook his head and waved a finger disapprovingly at Art while he rummaged around his bag, tempted to steal it off the boy so he'd pay more attention to him. ”Ah, you of all people should know that an actor must get into character!” He dropped his leg and put a hand on his heart, over the slightly padded bra he'd nicked and he sat straighter. ”I must feel my role, I must become one with my character!” he announced, before deflating and flopping lazily back into his previous position. ”That and I'm fucking bored.”

He raised an eyebrow before standing and turning round, looking back at his arse. ”Well, does it?” he asked teasingly, grinning at Art before sitting back down, crosslegged on the wall this time but pulling the skirt down so he didn't flash anything. Bloody school uniforms...

Art escaped his newly thrown arm and Cypress pouted again, pretending to be offended. He crossed his arms and huffed. ”Some friend you are, you're supposed to find it funny, not insult me!” He couldn't keep it up though, and grinned, leaning over to have a look at the book Art was holding. He wrinkled his nose and ignored the fact that he'd knocked his own work off the wall now. He ended up poking it, as if it were going to bite him. ”What, you'd rather do that than talk to me? I can think of some much better things that you could be doing!”

Maybe he could even ask him for some help on his next dare...

[arturobrigstocke]

Art grinned in spite of himself as his friend tried to wrestle his back off him, sticking his tongue out to lick Cypress’s face in an attempt to ward the other boy off. Cy‘s declaration that he needed to get into character made him snort - the guy was clearly begin over dramatic, but Art felt like being facetious “There is no proof to say that Stanislavsky’s method is the best way for an actor to get into character” He said, keeping his tone serious “You of all people should know that”

Unfortunately, seriousness had to be chucked out of the window the next moment, when Cypress started waving his arse at him. Art looked at him stoically, then lifted a foot to poke Cy’s arse with the toe of his shoe “Looks the same as always” He replied evenly, turning his eyes back to his poetry book. Staring at Cypress’s arse for too long was a dangerous occupation.

However, it seemed that fortune was back on his side when Cy didn’t persist in half strangling Art with his arm, though he was being a little petulant about it. But Art knew Cypress to well to think it was anything other than a show “Correction” He said, not looking up from his book “I am a wonderful friend. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be so honest” He couldn’t keep a straight face, though, and a smile started tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He thwapped Cy over the head when his friend started peering over the top of it “There probably is” He said reasonably, ignoring the -probably intentional- innuendo Cy had just made “But unfortunately, I can’t get an A Level in Understanding Cypress Brown, otherwise I’d have got to Oxford years ago”

[cypress]

Art licked his face and Cypress shifted backwards, wiping at his face and cringing while he laughed. ”Oh, you don't wanna start that, Art,” he warned, wiping the back of his hand on his skirt to get rid of the saliva. Ugh, that was kind of gross, actually. ”I'll lick you and then what will people think?” he threatened, quite aware that no one was probably even paying them the slightest bit of attention. It would be strange, though – Art hadn't shown the slightest inclination towards flirting with anyone since Cypress had known him, let alone dating, and so this would seem a little odd.

”Oh, come on, you know it's the only way to go,” he replied, rolling his eyes. ”Besides, how much fun is it to prance around, pretending to be Juliet and having a reason for it?” he asked, fiddling with the skirt as he said so. It really was quite fun to wear skirts – they were nice and airy, what was the problem? - and he sighed. ”You of all people should know that I like it.”

Cy let out a slight yelp as Art poked his arse with his foot, throwing his hands to it, spinning round and glaring at him in an undignified manner. He removed his hands, folded his arms and titled his head slightly, grinning in an evil manner. ”What, you've been looking at my arse then?” he asked, peering over his shoulder before unfolding his arms and shrugging. ”What can I say, when you're blessed I suppose you have to expect people to appreciate it.” As he sat down, though, he nudged Art and sniggered. ”Always knew you were an arse bloke.”

The Ravenclaw didn't even have the courtesy to look at him as he said that! At least he wasn't being serious, and Cypress rubbed his head, scowling as Art hit him. ”No, you're an abusive wanker and it's just as well I love you, isn't it?” he grumbled, not really mad and latching on to Art's arm, hugging it tight enough that if he tried to shake him off, it would prove difficult, and resting his head on the boy's shoulder. Art was warm and Cypress wasn't, end of. ”An A level? It's at least a bachelors to understand me, thanks very much,” he teased, reading the book while he leant on Art and getting thoroughly confused. ”Dude, what the fuck does that mean?” he asked, pointing to a part near the top of the page.

[arturobrigstocke]

Art regretted licking Cy almost as soon as he’d done it. Being perverted was a good way to get most people to back off, but not Cypress Brown. His friend was right, he really didn’t want to start that, it wasn’t going to do anything good for his mental state, which was in a precarious enough position after a night of English essays and approximately 40 minutes sleep in total. Still, he was just about used to holding his own against any attraction he had to Cypress - that was, when he wasn’t licking his face.

Thankfully, Cy gave him the perfect escape route from his thoughts “Dressed like that, they’d probably think you were Hailey Parker and start spreading even more rumours about me” He replied flatly, glaring at a passing first year as if to ward them off. Thinking about Hailey Parker was almost as bad as thinking about Cypress, although that induced anger rather than any other kind of frustration. Then again, at least Hailey wasn’t sitting next to him. In a skirt.

He could tell he was thinking too much, because every time Cypress said something it seemed to drag him back out of his thoughts, even though it had only been a split second sine he’d last said something “As if you need a reason to put a dress on” He replied with a grin, then cypress signed, suddenly serious - or, well, as serious as he ever got “Hey, don’t make me quote Shakespeare at you again” art threatened, but he kept the smile on his face - he didn’t want Cy to get bogged down in the ridiculous pressures of society. Hell, most wizards wore robes, which were just long dresses anyway. They had no right to be such hypocrites.

Unfortunately, the alterative to Serious Cypress seemed to be his flirtatious side, and Art groaned loudly when his friend asked him if he’d been looking at his arse. Seriously, licking, poking arses - what he hell was wrong with him today? And then Cy sat next to him, and Art found himself fighting really hard not to blush at that knowing comment “I have no taste in body parts, thank you very much,” He replied, slightly stiffly “If you would like to comment on my taste in fine wines or literature, perhaps when we can have a conversation” It was a bit of a defensive thing to say, but there was only so much flirting he could cope with before he got to breaking point.

And then Cypress called him an abusive wanker, which was probably an improvement. However that slight swing of events in Art’s favour was then completely counteracted when Cy said he loved him and latched onto his arm. He snorted, though, at the apparent qualification needed to understand his friend “You’re probably right,” He replied, smiling “Unfortunately, I don’t think they offer that course at Oxford”

Art took his book out from under Cy’s finger, as if just being near it would cause the book some kind of irreparable damage “Significa que eres totalmente tonta" He replied flippantly, turning way from Cypress so he could lean his back against his friend’s shoulder and put his feet up on the rest of the bench. He was never going to be able to concentrate with Cypress there.