To take Vincent's mind off his worries about Kim and the tension with his parents, Edwin suggests they go to Bonaparte on Friday. Vincent agrees and when Edwin spots him outside Bonaparte, he's fully decked out. His make-up is bold and fiery and he put on lipstick. Not only that, he's wearing a skirt. It's an ankle-length dark red skirt with folds and Vincent even has heels on under it. They're not the neon pink or sparkly golden heels from two months ago, but black and with a lower heel — the type Ellen would often wear.

"I feel underdressed," Edwin says in greeting.

"The fate of those who associate with me, darling." Vincent air-kisses both Edwin's cheeks. "You'll excuse me for withholding the real deal. I need this lipstick to stay intact until I have shown off a little." His eyes twinkle and Edwin smiles back. This Vincent is much nicer than the tense and worried Vincent from the past few days, even if he never wants Vincent to put up a front and hide how he's doing. He's under no illusions that he won't have to pry Vincent's vulnerabilities out of him next time, but at least he has this win. He can be a good partner for Vincent.

Eliane is there again and while Vincent is at the bar, she asks Edwin how he's doing.

"We talked," he says. "I want to cheer him up tonight."

"He's definitely dressed for it. Hey, maybe you should do karaoke! I bet he'll like that."

Edwin shakes his head. "I'm not singing." He looks at the stage, where someone is acting more than singing. He could never pull off that kind of confidence, those kind of dance moves.

"Aw, come on. You've never done it, right? You should do it at least once."

"The bar girl said that too."

"Helen? She would. And she's right. What if we all do it? Hey!" She draws the attention of their group. "What if we all do karaoke tonight? I'm trying to convince Edwin to show off his voice."

"I'm down," someone says.

"Me too."

"What are we doing, dears?" Vincent asks when he appears with several drinks.

"Giving Edwin his karaoke baptism," Eliane replies.

"Oh? Is this another one of your hidden depths, darling?"

"I'm being pressured."

"Has it worked yet?" Edwin shakes his head mutely, but Vincent is grinning and he already knows he'll give in. "Pretty please for me?" Vincent looks up through his lashes and it's ridiculous, but it still turns Edwin's mouth dry.

"Fine. But you too."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sugar."

The whole group moves to the front and they wait for their turn. "I'll go first," Eliane promises, "if you go after me. You can have some more time to decide which song you'll sing." She winks, but it sets off a new wave of nerves for Edwin. What should he even pick? Something simple, which means the rock music he usually listens to is out. Which songs does he know that are easy to sing? He looks at Vincent, who is looking back, smiling, and it sparks a memory, and then an idea.

Eliane sings a pop song Edwin doesn't know, with little show but perfectly in tune. When it's Edwin's turn, Vincent starts chanting his name, but the noise of the club drowns out his voice.

"Don't do that," Edwin implores. Vincent stops at once and blows him a kiss.

"Show me what you've got, darling. I'm rooting for you."

Edwin climbs onto the stage and blinks against the bright lights. Vincent stands right at the front of the crowd, gleaming in the shadows, and Edwin's gaze hooks onto him as an anchor point. His hand is sweaty around the mic and his nerves are buzzing, but he breathes through it. Inner calm, that's the key. This is another thing where he shouldn't care what anyone thinks. He can practise.

The first words appear on the screen and Edwin sings: "Let's get down to business!" Vincent cheers and Eliane and the others join in. Edwin's voice gains strength: "To defeat the Huns!" He's not the best singer, but it's a simple melody and he can carry a tune. He's a little rusty because he hasn't sung Disney since the girls were young — or sung much at all — but he pictures Vincent's face when they were watching Mulan, how Vincent mouthed along the words. It's his trans anthem, Vincent had said, so Edwin will damn well do it justice.

When the chorus starts, the group sings back at him: "Be a man!" Edwin can't see Vincent's eyes in the shadows, but he sings to him: "We must be swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon, with all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon."

Their friends clap and cheer when Edwin finishes and walks off the stage. Vincent gives him a one-armed hug and a full kiss. "Great choice, darling. I have taught you well."

Edwin chuckles. "Have I earned my gay badge now?"

"Let me sing my song and then I'll say." Vincent winks.

When Vincent starts singing "Somewhere over the rainbow", Edwin laughs. Vincent brings a beautifully dramatic rendition, not at all like the original, but with exaggerated gestures and notes that he throws out and abruptly breaks off with a flourish. He bows before he steps off the stage and Edwin jokes: "Did you have to renew your gay badge?"

"Sometimes it's good to lean into the gayness, darling. Never hurts to show off a little."

"You need to show off your gayness?"

"What do you think I do all the time, sugar? You, however, are too humble."

"Ah," Edwin says intelligently.

"Don't worry, we can remedy that." Vincent pulls him into a kiss. "There." They turn back to watch the other members of their group do karaoke, but Vincent keeps his arm around Edwin's waist and Edwin leans into his warmth. Vincent is being the biggest, showiest version of himself tonight, but it's nice. It doesn't feel like a shield to hide Vincent's vulnerabilities, but rather a return to his usual overflowing happiness.

Their tables have been taken over when they are done with the karaoke, so they try and find a different spot. Vincent leaves his glass on the table they can snatch and goes out on the floor to dance. Just watching him walk in the skirt is hypnotising and when he dances, Edwin can't look away. The skirt swirls around his legs and he dances with abandon. He's colourful. Radiant. Edwin wants to kiss him senseless and take him to bed, divest him of those clothes, only his make-up and jewellery left.

Similarly to that drag show in October, Vincent doesn't dance alone for long. Another feminine man joins him and they turn it into a small competition. The man has a beard and he's not wearing a skirt, but the way he moves his hands, the flair of his movements and the cut of his shirt and the leopard print leggings ooze a certain femininity. When he turns, Edwin can see he's wearing make-up, delicate golden stars glittering on his cheeks.

He's a very attractive man.

Edwin looks back at Vincent, who is undulating his body along with the beat, pushing his hands into the air or kicking out from under his skirt. And somehow that man — elegant, mesmerising, the centre of any room — decided Edwin was worth his time, Edwin who is ... none of that. Vincent is smiling and that smile shines like the sun, warming Edwin up with happiness, heating him up with desire. He doesn't know what it is about Vincent tonight that is drawing him in like this. Is it Vincent's smile? He's seen Vincent happy so many times. The only thing that's different about tonight is the skirt and the bolder colours of his make-up.

Has he come to love Vincent's femininity? Is that it? He's gotten used to how Vincent looks. It's not so strange that with his romantic attraction, his sexual attraction would also grow to encompass other things that he didn't like at first. He finds Vincent's eternal petnames and teasing charming now, for one. He liked when Vincent kept on the heels while they had sex.

Edwin looks back at Vincent's dance partner. He's really very attractive. His eyes glide over the crowd, spotting other men. Masculine men, feminine men, people who aren't really either.

Maybe he found feminine men attractive all along, he was just too obsessed with being the right type of gay to notice it. Maybe it was never about Vincent specifically, about Vincent's muscles and masculinity (which he still finds very attractive).

Well, it was a little bit about Vincent because Vincent is a force of nature who can push and push until Edwin bends and looks at the world with a new perspective.

His gaze is drawn to Vincent again, who is looking back. He beckons and Edwin shakes his head. Vincent dances over to him.

"Come on," he mouths and grabs Edwin's hand to pull him onto the floor, into the crowd. Edwin mirrors him and tries to channel his confidence from when he was young, when he danced with Ellen or his friends at concerts or in clubs.

"Just like that, darling!" Vincent shouts. He drapes his body over Edwin and sways, even though it's not a slow song at all. Edwin laughs and when Vincent looks up at him, his eyes sparkling, Edwin can't resist a kiss. It feels like it has been too long. They sort of stop swaying while kissing and when Edwin pulls back, Vincent's lipstick is smudged.

"Everybody will know what you have been doing when you look like that, honey," Vincent says, reaching up towards Edwin's lips.

"I don't mind. It's a gay club."

"Let me neaten it up a little." Vincent rubs Edwin's lips with his thumb. "There. You've really grown in confidence."

Edwin shrugs. "I guess."

"You have. It's great to see, darling. I like you without these worry lines. You've truly earned your gay badge. I might even be able to teach you some flair one day."

Edwin looks into Vincent's eyes and tries to strike a pose with his hand over his heart and a coy look, mimicking what he's seen Vincent do so many times. "Teach me how to be queer, daddy." The words sounded weird in his head and they come out even worse, with the wrong intonation, not at all with the flair and confidence needed to pull them off. Edwin doesn't know how Vincent does it so effortlessly.

Vincent bursts out laughing. "Maybe not that, darling. That sounded very unpleasant. Where did that come from?"

"I don't know," Edwin says, frustrated and embarrassed that he even tried. Of course he can't be like Vincent. Vincent says he can teach him some flair, but it's never going to happen. Edwin will never be able to pull it off, to be exactly what Vincent wants. In the end, he's always going to be a bit of an idiot in Vincent's eyes.

"It was adorable, I must say. Do you have something to tell me about a new kink of yours?"

"No."

"Aw, come on, don't be angry. I can't ignore the opportunity to tease you when you give it to me on a silver platter!"

"It was a mistake."

"And one I have greatly enjoyed. Didn't expect I would ever hear you say that in my life. But we can ignore it. We were having fun, weren't we?" Vincent wraps his arms around Edwin's neck and tries to kiss him until Edwin softens and gives in. He's so easy for it, always wanting to please Vincent. It angers him, that Vincent will push and he won't push back. Vincent knows all his vulnerabilities and yet he doesn't offer his own. If it had been the other way around, if Vincent was upset, he wouldn't give in so easily. No, Vincent is free with his happiness but guarded with his hurt.

"Do you want to stop dancing?" Vincent asks.

"You were having fun."

"And I can have fun without you, darling, if you'd rather talk with Eliane."

"You looked good dancing with that other man."

"Yves? He's a good dancer. Were you jealous?"

"Uhm ..."

"You were! Don't worry, I won't kiss him. Even if he's the better dancer."

"I wasn't jealous," Edwin says. "I, uhm, thought he was attractive."

"Ooooh, do I need to be jealous?"

"No, I just — I was thinking that you looked very nice tonight. With the skirt and the make-up."

"You like this look, honey? It's my summer attire. I could put on a skirt for you at home, if you want. Or do you want to put on a skirt?"

"No!" Edwin says instinctively, and then, calmer: "I don't think so." But maybe he should try it. At home, where no one but Vincent can see. Maybe Vincent would find it hot, the way the skirt made Vincent look more attractive. Maybe it would be nice if it's very hot in the summer. Scottish men basically wear skirts, don't they? "Maybe," he concedes.

"Lovely. I can find you something nice and unremarkable."

"I don't think wearing a skirt as a man is ... unremarkable."

"Not for the people with fragile masculinity, no. But it could be, with the right people. I'm not going to make you wear something short and flashy, darling."

"Okay." He hesitates. "Does 'fragile masculinity' mean that you feel less of a man because other men are feminine?"

"That's one part of it. Anything where men feel threatened in their masculinity if they don't perform 100% stereotypical behaviour. Leads to aggression and all kinds of fun bigotry, yada yada. Your masculinity is not going to break if you take care of your skin, sugar."

"I know that." He knows that now. Maybe he's still a little fragile, but he's learned. He's better.

"I wasn't talking about you specifically, darling. You've gone through enough exposure therapy to be more confident in your masculinity than that. Just being gay gives you already a leg up because you have now failed heteronormative masculinity! Congratulations! Except if you decide you need to compensate now, which you don't."

"I understand."

And maybe he truly does. Maybe he finally knows that a touch of femininity does not mean he's screaming his sexuality to the world. Maybe he never was masculine all the time, in everything he did, and it's fine if he does it a little less often.