Femininomenon

Stiles loved the club. Well it was more of a bar than a club but still. Loved lying to Scott, Allison, his dad, Derek, everyone. Loved the way his heart raced when packages arrived at his door. Loved the duffel bag he kept hidden under his bed. Loved driving out and getting ready with all the other girls. Loved the way the light caught his sequin dresses, the tinsel in the long dark hair of his wig, the gems he glued onto his knock off Mary Jane's.

He loved the bumping music, the way the people clapped for him as he danced and spun and lip synced each word perfectly on the small catwalk stage. He loved when they played his final song and he got to crawl across the floor and flash his pink underwear that sat snug over his pantyhose and compression shorts. He loved that no one knew his name and just called him Missy or Baby, or his stage name Baby Steps, Miss Step.

He loved that no one knew his name. And no one cared. Not the bartender who always had a cold iced lemonade waiting for him when his set was done, never offering him alcohol since learning he was only 18, not the people cheering and watching from the booths and tables, not the kings backstage who told him where to get his shoes, and not the older queens backstage who taught him everything he knows. Even the few ladies who'd taken Stiles under their glittering wings and taught him how to pluck his chest hairs and what underwear has enough compression he didn't need to tape his package down, they didn't care what his name was.

Stiles loved the club. He loved smiling and enjoying himself under the flashing lights and bumping music. He loved getting to be Missy for just a little bit. To be free to be someone else. Even for a little bit.

It was haven.

That was until Derek Hale fucking ruined it all. Derek was a part of their scene now since Scott and Stiles had got him caught up in their trouble. Apparently getting him arrested made them friends. So he hung out around the seniors, showing up wherever they're hanging. He was weird, hot, and Stiles liked to push his buttons.

Sure Stiles had a crush on him since like sixth grade because by then Derek was fifteen, an older boy, and cool. It only got worse when Stiles himself got to highschool and spotted Derek around town in his cool as hell car with his cool handsome super hot face, and his rough demeanor. It didn't help that Stiles heard everything, he worked in a coffee shop, gossip was a side gig, and gossip around Derek Hale? Slut, slept with everyone, guys, girls, who cares.

But he didn't expect Derek Hale, hot, 22 year old, Derek Hale, to be the reason his life fell apart.

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It was a Wednesday night, Girls night. Stiles grabbed his bag from under his bed, snuck through the front door, and headed to the city an hour and a half away. He smiles and cranked up the radio, the drive always hyped him up before, and calmed him down after. He couldn't help but open up the bag in his passenger seat.

It was pretty.

He'd ordered a new dress. He made enough working at the coffee shop to afford the $40 dress. It was a backless golden mini dress, the slit in the sides would show off the black underwear he'd wear to match the plain black four inch heels he'd found at a thrift store. The dress was... barely anything. Definitely more showy than what he'd usually go for but this was the last time he could go before he had to crack down for graduation.

The neckline was loose and hung down to his sternum, the waist showed off the little curve he had, the back barely coming up enough to cover his ass. It would be one to remember. At least he'd remember all the time it took to get ready for it. Plucking his chest hairs since he didn't use padding or a breastplate or anything, wax strips on his arms and pits and face, and the cheap little tiara he got to finish it all off.