Boots Off, Walls Thin

Gary was on the kitchen floor, having just tripped over Chet's paintball gear. Wyatt stood over him, boots planted wide, admiring the view of Gary's panties thanks to the skirt that had flipped up. Her heart was still thumping from the chaos of the walk home, but this took it to the next level. Gary blinked up at her, dazed, cheeks a soft cherry-red.

"Are you okay?" Wyatt asked.

She reached down automatically, reflex, instinct, affection, but Gary jerked away from her touch like her hand was a live wire.

"Wyatt, don't." His voice was small. Firm. Scared. "We'll spark."

Right.

Spark.

Wyatt froze, her fingers suspended uselessly in the air. She couldn't believe she almost did that. After all they'd been through to keep from touching, to fail then would have been idiotic.

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling back. "I forgot for a second."

On the bus ride home, the two of them had been packed into standing space so tight she'd felt Gary's breath against her collarbone, people hitting her shoulder, bumping her hips, jostling them closer and closer until Wyatt had had to anchor her hand on the metal bar above her head and Gary had to hold onto the seat backs behind him to keep from being pushed into each other.

And then the runners—God, the runners. They'd come out of nowhere, a wave of neon shorts and shining sweat, cutting between them in the crosswalk, brushing Gary's arm, almost knocking him into Wyatt's side. Gary had been quick on his feet, moving to avoid Wyatt, but he'd stumbled and hit the grassy boulevard so hard she'd worried that he'd been seriously hurt.

It was like the universe was trying to **** them together.

But that was crazy. Universes didn't have consciousness. Neither did they care whether or not two high school seniors touched. Then again, until a couple days ago, Wyatt hadn't believe that it would be possible to be transformed into an incredibly sexy woman, while the world around her thought she was a normal man. Maybe it was time to stay open to possibility.

Wyatt stepped back, giving her best friend space, letting him get up on his own. Gary pushed himself upright, cheeks still flushed, eyes still wide. When he finally stood, he smoothed his skirt and steadied himself. His eyes, almost by instinct, looked her up and down, taking in every bit of skin and every curve.

Wyatt tried not to melt.

"Okay," she said, clearing her throat. "Upstairs?"

"Yeah."

They headed up the stairs, the house quiet except for the distant creak of Chet's bedroom door and then...

A long, deeply committed moan.

Gary made a face like he'd just bitten into a raw onion. "Gross."

Wyatt shrugged. "Can you blame him?"

Gary made an even more dramatic disgusted noise. Wyatt didn't push it. She understood all too well what it felt like to have your identity changed, to have the rules of the world switched around on you, leaving you to figure them out as you went. She also knew how absolutely every man alive saw Gary. Including her idiot brother.

They reached the landing.

"So," Wyatt said, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation, "let's give your idea a try tonight. We'll start simple. Just use our phones. Just something to get some attention, get a few subscribers, get the cash flowing."

Gary looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn't. He just sighed. "You really think it'll work?"

"Honey, I'm sure of it," Wyatt said. "Like… absolutely sure. You'll be magnetic. Once we start making money, we upgrade our gear. And once we have the gear? We fix the universe. Easy."

He didn't look convinced. But he didn't stop her either. They split at the top of the stairs.

"I'm changing," Gary said, tugging at the hem of his microscopic cheerleader skirt like it was about to combust. "I know we're going for thirst trap, but I'm not looking like this all night."

"I'm sure you'll have something yummy in your room, babe," Wyatt said. "Besides, it's not the wrapper that makes the candy sweet."

He nodded and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

Wyatt went to her room. She kicked the door shut, exhaled, and reached down to unclip her thigh-high red boots. The leather peeled away from her calves with a soft sigh, and the moment each boot hit the carpet—

They shimmered.

Flickered.

Collapsed inward like popped balloons.

A second later, a pair of scuffed blue sneakers sat where the boots had been.

Wyatt rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Sure. Of course."

She tossed the sneakers into her closet without ceremony.

Next came the dress. She gripped the zipper at the back, tugged it down, and stepped out of the glossy red leather. The moment the dress left her skin, it crumpled, then snapped back into shape as—

Blue jeans.

A faded polo shirt.

Male clothes. The ones she'd started the day with.

"Right on schedule," she muttered, picking them up and tossing them straight into the laundry hamper. She didn't want to see them. When she'd first transformed into this new body, she'd been horrified, wanting to cover it up, hide it, go back to normal. Now, seeing her male clothes, she hated the idea of wearing them. Yes, she loved that each article magically reformed to be a revealing, feminine outfit, but what if it didn't work one day? Wyatt wanted to be seen! Admired! Desired! And wearing a polo shirt just wouldn't do the trick.

She stood there completely naked for a moment, feeling lighter, freer, a little excited.

What would the universe put her in next?

Something soft?

Something cute?

And—god—would Gary like it?

She found herself smiling as she reached for her closet door.

The idea for Gary's first stream hit her just as she pulled it open.

"Introduction and fit check," she murmured. "Perfect."

Through the wall, Chet moaned again, louder this time.

Wyatt snorted softly.

Yeah. This was going to work.