Do It Right (Short Story)

Hey All,

Sorry for not posting in a while. I've taken a small break to work on eBooks and it's been a nice change of pace. But, here's a small story I've written as a commission that I can share

Do it Right

“Sander!” Diya gaps upon entering her bedroom. “What the….!?”

Her face drops as the scene of carnage in front of her looms large. Sander, standing awkwardly as his tackle bursts from the lacey thong he’s borrowed, tries to cover himself. He covers his bare chest with one hand and his crotch with another and starts to shake his head.

“It’s not what it looks like!?” he exclaims with fear in his eyes.

Diya’s mouth drops and the silence between them is deafening. She eventually tilts her head and looks at the collection of her clothes he’s gathered on her bed.

“W-what is it then?” she asks, utterly bemused.

Sander looks desperately around the room like he’s trying to think of a plausible explanation.

“H-Halloween…?” he replies uncertainly.

“It’s February,” Diya replies plainly.

Stepping into her room, she kicks off her high heels and adds them to the mess on her bedroom floor. Parking herself on the edge of her own bed, she lets down her hair and lets out a long breath.

“You’re not meant to be home yet…,” Sanders says, now beginning to shiver.

Diya gives him a wry smile before looking at the outfit on the bed that Sander was clearly about to try on. A tiny little pleated skirt with a camisole. Items of wardrobe that haven’t seen the light of day since she was eighteen.

“You err…?” Diya asks, lifting the tiny, pleated skirt she used to go clubbing in. “You’re going to wear this?”

Sanders looks at the skirt and his entire body goes red. “No…,” he answers bashfully and looks away.

“It’s cold outside,” Diya replies, studying the tiny skirt. “Wouldn’t you rather wear something more suited for the season and your…,” she drops the skirt into her lap and looks him up and down. “Age?”

“Huh!?” Sander grunts, unsure how to answer.

“Dude,” Diya says flippantly, throwing the pleated skirt across her room. “If you’re going to borrow my clothes and dress like a woman—at least do it right!”

Sander’s face drops as he watches the skirt he’d worked hard to find fall to the corner of the room. “D-do…it right?” he asks.

“What are you?” Diya asks, leaning back on her back and holding herself up with her arms. “Like five foot seven and one hundred and forty pounds?”

Sanders looks down at his skinny body. It’s something he’s so self-conscious about, so to be almost naked in front of his roommate is like hell on Earth. “Five Eight,” he answers, knowing that extra inch matters.

“You’ve narrow hips,” Diya continues, pointing. “If you’re going to wear a skirt, you’ll want to wear something with volume to make your hips look bigger.”

“Y-yeah…?”

“Yes.” Diya gets up from the bed and walks past the piles of clothes on the floor towards her open closet. She hums for a moment in thought before pulling out a tulle skirt. “Here,” she says, laying out the long, light, and very colorful skirt on the bed. “This would look nice on you.”

Sanders looks at the tulle skirt and raises and eyebrow. “It’s a little ‘old lady’.”

Diya frowns in his direction before standing directly in front of him. They stand about the same height, and even though Sanders is almost naked, that doesn’t bother her as she’s far from interested in men.

“A tight top with sleeves would likely bring in those shoulders,” she explains, touching his arms. “I think if you wear my date night bra and one of my tops, you could have a really convincing hourglass shape.”

Diya looks down at her feet and she just happens to be standing on the Vouge design t-shirt she was thinking about. She takes it from the floor and holds it up in front of Sanders. “Might look too small for you,” she says with a grin. “But it should look nice once on.”

Sanders shies away from her. “A-aren’t you mad?” he asks, confused by why she’s helping.

“No,” Diya replies frankly, placing the t-shirt onto the bed with the skirt. “If you wanna dress like a girl, I’m game. Maybe with my help, you’d look stylish for once and not like the hobo people say I keep as a pet.”

“Hobo?” Sanders questions, looking a little offended. “Is that what people think of me?”

Diya rolls her eyes. “Maybe…,” she says politely.

Feeling a little awkward that she might have offended him. Diya reaches into her nearby underwear drawer and pulls out her date night push-up bra and hands it to him.

“You don’t really take much care of your appearance, do you?” she clarifies. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve seen you clean-shaved in months.”

Sander’s expression turns glum, and he doesn’t take the bra from her hands. Instead, he wallows in self-pity.

“You don’t understand,” he grumbles, slapping his leg with one hand in frustration. “I don’t feel like a man on the inside, so it’s really hard for me to get motivated and look after the appearance of a man.”

“How’d you mean?”

“Well,” Sanders wipes a tear from his eye as he replies. “Imagine you’re a cat, but everyone sees you as a dog.”

“Are you calling me a dog?” Diya quips and smirks.

“Diya…!” Sanders whines. “Just listen!”

“Fine…,” she giggles. Go on. I’m a cat who's treated like a dog.”

“So, you a cat,” Sanders carries on. “But you are forced to do dog things. Go for walkies. Play fetch. Eat dog food. Learn tricks.” Sanders looks deep into Diya’s eyes. “Would you want to do those things as a cat? No, you wouldn’t.”

“I think I understand,” Diya replies.

“You wouldn’t be happy to do anything of those things!” Sander looks away and at the floor. “Because you’re a cat, but everyone thinks you’re a dog. When you try and tell people you’re a cat, they mock you. They say nasty things. They think you're strange….”

“I get it,” Diya smiles and puts a comforting hand on Sanders's shoulders.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Diya gives him a warm smile. “It’s time for this dog to be seen as the prettiest cat in the neighborhood, huh?”

Sanders smiles back for the first time. “Thanks, Diya. I’m sorry for all the mess.”

“It’s ok,” she grins. “This is very typical of me when I’m getting ready. So, I guess, in a way, you are doing it right! Now, let’s get you dressed.”

Diya then blushes and looks in another direction. “I swear your tackle is staring at me this whole time, Sanders. I really want you to put some clothes on,” she chuckles nervously.

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