Return of the Sister: Part 11

“You’re sure his name is Jam Band Antwerk?” Josh asked.

Bobby gave a small shrug. “It’s something like that,” he said. “Anyways, he’s coming this weekend to do the big shoot. It’s going to suck.”

It was a Wednesday evening, and they were over at Josh’s place, watching ESPN on his dad’s oversized flatscreen TV. It was something Bobby had done dozens of times, with dozens of friends, but it was a little different with Josh: for instance, the fact that the taller boy’s arm was draped casually around Bobby’s slender shoulders. The contact was more than a bit distracting, as was the smell of Josh’s cologne.

Normally Bobby would have kicked his stilettos off and curled up more comfortably, but he’d noticed Josh kept glancing at them, kind of intrigued, so he’d kept them on and even bobbed his foot up and down here and there -- not to draw attention to them, or anything like that, but if Josh did notice, well, whatever, right?

“So it’s going to be stressful?” Josh asked.

“Big time,” Bobby muttered, trying to ignore the way he could feel Josh’s deep voice vibrate from his chest. For some reason, it made him go all tingly. Under the guise of adjusting his skirt, Bobby wriggled in closer, carefully keeping his eyes on the television screen. Josh didn’t acknowledge the move, but a moment later his fingers started to casually stroke Bobby’s bare arm.

“Maybe you could just ditch it,” Josh said. “You know, flee to Mexico or something.”

“Um, what?” Bobby squeaked. Josh’s fingers had brushed his chest by accident, and through the skimpy material of his top and the lacy cups of his bra, his nipples were tingling like crazy.

Josh, totally oblivious to the hormone bomb he’d set off, reached down and pulled Bobby’s blonde hair around to the other side of his neck. Bobby shivered slightly, determinedly watching the TV as Josh’s hand, strong and callused from the gym, stroked his neck. When he grabbed onto the dangling hoop in Bobby’s earlobe and gave it a gentle tug, Bobby couldn’t help but give a little gasp.

“I said, maybe you could flee to Mexico,” Josh said. “My parents have a place down there. We could go hide out until the photographer gives up on you.”

Bobby bit his lip as Josh continued playing with his earring and running his fingers through his hair. “That sounds cool,” he said weakly.

“You and me in Mexico, drinking Coronas on the beach,” Josh grinned, then leaned down and claimed Bobby’s mouth with the kiss he’d been waiting for. Bobby moaned, then wriggled upright to throw both his arms around the taller boy’s neck, pressing his body against him. The mantra he’d come up with was repeating in the back of his mind: kissing isn’t gay, kissing’s just kissing, kissing isn’t gay…

Josh’s hands found his breasts again, and this time it definitely wasn’t an accident. Bobby whimpered as his one-time rival started to gently squeeze. He was vaguely aware that he was still totally limp, tucked away in his panties, but somehow it felt like he was anything but. Suddenly desperate, Bobby shoved Josh’s hands away, unzipped his top, and arched his back.

Josh needed no further invitation. Bobby shut his eyes and tried not to moan as Josh massaged tiny circles around his nipples. The material of the bra was so sheer and silky that it might as well not have been there. Bobby had a slightly panicky thought: he hadn’t worn this bra on purpose, had he? Had he known he was coming over to Josh’s when he put it on?

Then Josh intensified his efforts, sending bolts of electricity through Bobby’s whole body, and it hardly seemed to matter. For the first time in a month, Bobby felt like he might actually get there.

“You can wear that sexy little bikini you showed me,” Josh rumbled. “Teasing all the guys on the beach… You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bobby flushed. “Whatever,” he gasped. “I wouldn’t… I…”

“I know you love that,” Josh said, biting gently at his neck. “You love looking sexy. You love making all those poor guys drool over you.”

“Shut up,” Bobby whimpered.

Josh was clearly turned on, too, completely flushed with a hungry look in his eye Bobby hadn’t seen before. Bobby shut his own eyes, trying to just focus on the amazing feeling in his breasts, not on what Josh was saying, and definitely not on the fact that he was on his back on another guy’s couch.

Suddenly he felt a hand reach under his skirt and grab his ass. He let out an involuntary squeak as Josh kneaded his cheek.

“They all wish they could get a handful of this,” Josh muttered. “But it’s all mine, right, Barbie? You’re such a sexy little...”

Bobby felt something inside him suddenly snap. “I’m not your fucking girlfriend!” he squealed, shoving Josh backwards. “Get off! Just get off me, Josh!”

He bolted to his feet, wobbling slightly on his stilettos. Josh was frozen on the couch, looking first stunned, then ashamed. Bobby’s gaze flicked downwards, towards the lump in Josh’s sweatpants, and he felt his face grow even hotter. He grabbed his discarded top from the edge of the couch and slipped it back over his head, zipping it up over his heaving breasts.

“I’m sorry,” Josh said. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I got carried away, Barbie.”

Bobby didn’t know what to feel. Part of him was utterly sick with shame, disgusted with himself that he’d just let himself be groped and fondled by another guy. Another part of him was still incredibly aroused, and wanted nothing more than to get back on the couch and let Josh’s hands finish the job. The last part of him was devastated that, for all the time they spent just hanging out together, Josh only thought of him as a piece of ass.

Bobby grabbed his purse and hurried up the stairs without even bothering to fix his makeup.

#

Kimberly was starting to feel like her personal phone number was a crisis hotline. She was used to Bobby calling in a panic, but now Josh was in on it, too.

“I screwed up,” he said, for the fifth or sixth time. “I screwed up so bad, Kimberly.”

“Look, it’s not as bad as you think,” Kimberly sighed, shutting her laptop to better concentrate on the conversation. “She came back after she stormed off, right?”

“Only because she needed a ride,” Josh said. “It’s not like she was going to march across town in those shoes.”

“She could have Ubered,” Kimberly pointed out. “If she asked you for a ride home, she couldn’t have been that mad.”

“She didn’t say a word the whole way,” Josh groaned. “I was apologizing non-stop, and she just ignored me completely, and when her hand accidentally touched the stick shift she almost jumped out of the car.”

“Okay, but back on the couch, before you grabbed her ass and she noticed your, uh, stick shift…” Kimberly couldn’t help but trail off for a moment, caught up imagining her feminized ex engaged in heavy petting with another guy. “She was enjoying herself, right?”

Josh paused on the other end for a second. “I mean, I don’t want to brag, but yeah,” he said. “It looked like she was almost, you know, heading for the big O.”

“And she probably feels guilty about that,” Kimberly said matter-of-factly. “This is why I told you to slow down, lover boy. She might look like your dream girl, but she’s still working through a lifetime of being, you know, a guy?”

She could practically hear Josh wince at the reminder. “Okay, so what do I do?” he asked pleadingly.

“Chill out, is what you do,” Kimberly said. “Stop freaking apologizing. You were horny, you went a little too far, you said sorry. It’s not a big deal -- God knows she’s done it plenty of times. She’s not mad at you, she’s mad at herself.”

“You sure?” Josh asked. “She almost bit my head off when I tried to open the door for her.”

“She’s under a lot of pressure,” Kimberly said. “Just back off for a while. Let her think things through. She’s going to start second-guessing herself. Then she’s going to wonder if she overreacted. Then she’s going to remember how good you made her feel, and before you know it, she’s going to be crawling back.” Kimberly snorted. “You might even get a blowjob out of it.”

Josh was silent for a moment. “That’s not what it’s about,” he said. “I really care about her, Kimberly.”

Kimberly was tempted to ask him how “caring” it was to blackmail someone into crossdressing on webcam, but she knew feeding Josh’s self-delusion was the best way to keep him on her side. “I know you do, Josh,” she said. “And the best thing for her right now is to give her space. Go take your mind off it. Hit the gym or something. No messaging her.”

“Alright,” Josh said. He paused. “This whole thing with her sister being back is really stressing her out. She feels like she’s just...out to get her, I guess. You know anything about it?”

“Sibling rivalry, I guess,” Kimberly said. “I have to go. Talk to you later, Josh.”

“Later,” Josh said glumly.

Kimberly ended the call. She had her reasons for not bringing Josh into this. While she never planned to lose, it was important to have some kind of contingency in place in case it happened. And for this plan, that contingency was Josh.

Kimberly went back to what she’d been doing before the call, scouring the internet for information on a certain Jan Van Antwerp. More specifically, his past work with Serena -- Bobby had mentioned the two had some kind of history together, though he hadn’t known any details. It seemed like they’d worked together quite often. In most of the off-set photos Google found, the pair were smiling and laughing, side by side.

But one still was different. It was an old photo, behind the scenes at a shoot where Serena barely looked older than sixteen. Bobby’s sister was looking sideways at the now-famous photographer, who was young and handsome at the time. Her expression was one Kimberly didn’t think she’d ever seen on Serena’s face before: fear.

Kimberly frowned. Now that was interesting.

#

“I don’t see why I had to come,” Bobby said sourly, tugging at the hem of his tight white miniskirt. The airport’s air-conditioning was cranked to ridiculous extremes, and he was the only one of the Vickerson “women” with bare legs -- his mom was wearing a fashionable pant suit, and his sister was in distressed black skinny jeans.

“To make a good impression, sweetie,” his mom said. “Hold the sign up, I think I see him! And smile, remember? We paid good money for it!”

Bobby pasted a bright smile onto his face and reluctantly lifted the purple construction paper sign up over his blonde head. It read “Jan” in all capital, bright red letters, accompanied by a bunch of doodled hearts -- his mother’s idea, but she was adamant he act like he made it himself.

As for the smile, his mom and sister had taken him to the salon that afternoon to make sure he looked his best for Jan. Along with full body waxing and a new lace front wig, it had also meant a teeth-whitening session followed by collagen injections in his lips. They were still sore and puffy. He’d been hoping the swelling would go away quickly, but thus far he was stuck with a bee-stung pout his mom had coated in a shiny pink lip gloss.

Bobby was painfully aware that his sexy smile and short skirt were attracting looks from more than a few debarking male passengers -- all of whom no doubt wished their name were on the sign. But he gamely kept it in the air as a slight man with a shaved head and an ostentatious fur-trimmed gold coat came bounding towards them, followed by an assistant laden down with an insane amount of luggage.

“The lovely Serena Vickerson and her lovely mother!” the man exclaimed, flouncing right past Bobby as if he wasn’t there. He spoke with some kind of European accent, along with a definitely “swishy” cadence. “My God, you both look amazing! What an absolute treat to visit you in your home, here in…” He glanced back at his assistant and snapped his fingers.

“Green Lake,” the harried-looking woman supplied.

“Green Lake, Middle of Nowhere, USA!” the man, who was clearly Jan Van Antwerp, finished. He giggled slightly at his own joke, then pulled each of the Vickerson women into an air kiss.

Bobby was starting to think he had developed a superpower, somehow avoiding the flamboyant photographer's notice through the sheer force of distaste, but it wasn’t to be. Jan Van Antwerp did a dramatic double-take, swung cartoonishly on his heel, and clapped both hands to his own face.

“And here is our little Barbie doll, just as advertised!” he sang. “Honey, you are gorgeous! Those cheekbones! Those lips. The boys must just eat you up!”

Bobby flushed furiously, but Jan wasn’t done. The photographer grabbed him by the waist, and in place of an air kiss, gave him a brief but firm peck on the lips, making an exaggerated smacking noise as he did it. Bobby was too stunned to pull away.

“I just had to feel them for myself, honey,” Jan said. “Don’t look so shocked! My God, ‘Rena, is she really this innocent? It’s adorable!”

Before Bobby could even react, the photographer was somehow deep in conversation with Serena, scolding his assistant for something, and taking a Bluetooth call all at the same time. Feeling somewhat dazed, he followed the procession towards the exit, where Jan had a rental car waiting. He had just been kissed in public by an extremely gay man, and it seemed like he was the only one who’d even noticed.

“So tomorrow we scout location, and Saturday, bright and early, we begin,” Jan announced, as his assistant started hauling the bags out to the curb. “I’m so thrilled to work with ‘Rena’s little sister, I really am.” He gripped Bobby’s face between his hands. “Look me in the eyes, honey.”

Bobby blinked. “Um, okay?”

“Barbie, I think you have potential,” Jan whispered, staring at him with an almost frightening intensity. He glanced down at the sign that was still clutched in Bobby’s manicured fingers. “Oh, so cute. You little flirt, you!” He patted Bobby on the head as if he were a small child, exchanged another round of kisses with Serena and their mom, then skipped outside to the car.

As soon as he was out of sight, Bobby’s mom let out an audible sigh of relief. “I think that went really well,” she said. “Don’t you, Serena?”

Serena had a smirk on her face as she turned her gaze to Bobby. “Definitely, Mom,” she said. “I think Barbie’s going to have an awful lot of fun with him. I know I always did.”

Bobby couldn’t think of anything less fun-sounding that didn’t involve gruesome death. He was blushing, confused, and exhausted after just a couple minutes in Jan’s company -- a whole day was going to be excruciating.

“I know he’s quite, um, enthusiastic, Barbie,” his mom said slowly, and for a split second it seemed like she was avoiding Serena’s eyes. “But he really is the best.”

Forcing the smile back onto his face for his mom’s benefit, Bobby nodded his pretty blonde head. He was already planning to put Jan’s welcome sign through his dad’s shredder the second they got home.

#

For the first time in a long time, Kimberly could not take her eyes off her ex’s lips. She wasn’t exactly alone in her preoccupation -- all the other cheerleaders were equally entranced, and most of the guys in the cafeteria had developed temporary speech disorders. Bobby, completely oblivious, was busy slathering his ultra-puffy new pout in a shiny pink gloss with the aid of a compact mirror.

“Oh, my God, is there any collagen left?” Ally demanded. “Like, in the world? Those are definite DSLs, girl.”

Bobby snapped his mirror shut, flushing. “Anything for Jan Van Antwerp, I guess,” he said, then, realizing what he’d just said could be taken extremely out-of-context, flushed even redder. “I mean the injections! Not the, uh, sucking.”

“Well, obviously,” Beverly said. “He’s gay, right? He wouldn’t be into a girly girl like you.” The head cheerleader smiled brightly -- she was firmly back to acting like she and Bobby were besties -- and lowered her voice. “So, when’s the shoot? Spill, Barbie!”

“Tomorrow morning,” Bobby said. “Today they’re looking at studios and renting all the equipment and stuff.”

“Do you think they’ll need extra models?” Ally asked innocently. “Or maybe we could just come watch, and get, like discovered?”

Bobby looked physically pained by the idea of the cheerleaders showing up to watch him swish around in revealing outfits on camera. “I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I’m already bringing Kimberly, so…”

Kimberly briefly shut her eyes. Bobby still had a lot to learn about girl politics. When she opened them, the other cheerleaders were, predictably, staring at her, looking alternately betrayed or curious. “I’m going to be Barbie’s social media coordinator,” she said. “So, you know, I have to go.”

“That must be such a sacrifice for you,” Beverly said cattily, but the bell saved Kimberly from dealing with any more jealousy. She pulled her ex up by the arm, not letting him finish his yogurt cup, and marched him off as quickly as possible under the guise of getting to cosmetology class on time. He pouted his lips at her, which was a lot more sensual than usual.

“What’s the rush?” he whined.

“I just wanted a word alone,” Kimberly said. “You know, to make sure you’re ready for tomorrow.” She lowered her voice. “Serena’s going to hit you with everything she’s got. You’re remembering that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Bobby sighed, adjusting the strap of his bra with one manicured finger. “This is her last shot to scare me off, so she’s going all in. I’ll be fine, Kimmy. I mean, it’s just wearing clothes. Jan seemed okay, and you’re going to be there, too, so it’s not like she can do anything too crazy.” He paused. “Please quit staring at my lips.”

Kimberly blinked. “Sorry,” she said. “Couldn’t help it. Seriously, those must use up, like, a full tube of lipstick.”

Bobby grimaced. “Pretty much.”