T/W: Homophobia (it's the 60s tf you expect/jk) and suggestive themes.

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Art watched TV as Paul cooked in the kitchen. It was a sunny Thursday morning, not too hot but not too cold. He flipped through channels. Then he stopped. He saw the most beautiful man he ever saw talking about the latest product on the market.

His voice was like deep rich chocolate. His straight black hair shined in the light. He was tall and lean, and his piercing brown eyes seemed to be staring deep into the singer's soul. Art felt his face become hot, and a bulge began to rise.

He thought he got rid of this problem. He began to shake and tried to push it down. Shit, it's not working. Paul would be done cooking any minute. He can't see him like this.

Maybe if he goes to the bedroom, it'll be fine. He could try to get rid of it there. He stood up. The man's voice echoed in his ears. He collapsed, just itches from the door.

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Him and his big brother watched the TV. There was a special movie on tonight, one with sweaty and muscular cowboys saving the beautiful and helpless brunette from the bad guys. The eight year old Arthur liked all the action and drama. He could even picture himself as the main character in some scenes on his big horse and brown hat.

Towards the end, a very handsome man came on screen. It was the brunette's brother. He was frightened by how beautiful he was. His voice had a western accent. He began to blush when the man kissed a blonde woman. His brother saw.

"Aww, does little Artie like the pretty girl?" His brother, Jules, teased, not mockingly but not sweetly either.

"Yeah....but I also like the guy too...."

He felt his brother stare at him in horror. The older one turned off the TV and rushed them up to Art's room. He shut the door and locked it.

"You can't like the man, Arthur." His usually calm older brother's serious tone made Art very nervous.

"Why? Who said?"

"Society. I personally can give two shits but I don't know about mom and dad."

"But they'll still love m-"

"I'm not sure."

His parents not love him? That'll be the worst thing in the world. He got scared.

"People like you," he pointed to Art's heart. "get beat up, mocked, even murdered. I don't want you getting hurt, so you can't tell anyone, not even mom and dad, ok?"

"....ok."

"Now, who do you like?"

"Girls, just girls."

"Good. Every time you feel all....queer, I guess? You just remember what I said, got it?"

He looked down his feet. "Yeah."

That night, it was the first time he felt disgusted with himself. He could control it. He's sure of it. Nobody needs to know.

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When he was 15 or 16, he met a boy. He doesn't remember his name, just that he wore funny glasses. One day, the boy didn't come back to school. He later found out he was killed because someone saw him with his boyfriend.

When he was 16, he met another boy. He was so strong and gorgeous. He developed a crush of some sorts. He felt disgusted with himself, but he just couldn't help it. Once, he saw him with his girlfriend, redheaded and stunning. They kissed passionately in the hallway. Art couldn't help but stare, then run to the bathroom and cry. He knew he could never have him, but it sucked either way. But that wasn't upsetting him.

They both looked perfect. He shouldn't be looking at both, just the girl. He felt ashamed. He was so ashamed that he skipped two of his classes to go home. He wept until he fell asleep.

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By age 19, he had enough of this curse. Nobody knew, not even Paul. He found a solution, but he knew it would be the most painful thing he'll ever have to do. He sat in his room and took out two magazines. One full of naked women, which made him excited. That was fine.

Then he opened the other one. It was full of handsome men, especially Elvis pictures. He looked, it went up, and he punched it. Every time it went up, it was punished. He did it so long that his poor dick got red and bloody. He repeated it for two weeks. After that, it didn't raise again for men.

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Once at a concert, he saw a beautiful woman staring at him with goo-goo eyes as he and Paul sung. When the show was over. Paul noticed the lady.

He whispered in his ear, "You should go talk to her."

They both looked at her and she waved at them. Paul shoved him to her and hid in the corner.

"Uh, hi." The tall musician spoke shyly.

Her voice sounded weird. Not bad, just weird. "Hi, sweets! I really loved your singing!"

She was so flamboyant, her voice was like a jazz song and she knew how to use her hands. She had big black hair, a big long red dress, tall, perfect makeup, she was a walking shooting star. She was welcoming, Art's wall came down the more he talked to her.

Then she bent down to his ear and whispered, "I'm a man."

He turned into a tomato. "W-wh-"

"I just like dressing up nice, is that really a crime?"

"No. Can I tell you a secret?"

He whispered in her ear, and they held hands and promptly left together. Paul smirked as they walked out the door. They walked around for a bit, smoking and giggling. They kissed a lot.

"Where you get that dress? It looks really nice."

"This old thing?" She fixed the ruffles on top. "I made it myself."

"You made that?! It looks so good!"

"Do you want one?"

Art nodded, then went silent. Maybe this will help him. If he dresses and acts like a girl, then it'll be ok for him to like men. She does it, and she looks great.

They went to her house. It was a small, warm, cozy house. She excused herself and changed out of her clothes and jewelry. The person that came out made Art's eyes go wide.

"You look so different!"

"I know, you can call me a guy now." He took off his makeup in the bathroom.

Afterwards, he made Art stand still with his arms up to his sides. He got his measurements. He asked what he wanted the dress to look like. The other wasn't sure, so he gave him a magazine full of ladies wearing the latest fashion. He pointed to a model and said he wanted it exactly like that but black and white. It was a stripped dress.

Next, he did his makeup. It was the first time Art ever had makeup on his face. It felt weird. When it was finished he looked in the mirror. It looked beautiful, but he hated how he felt. It was drowning his skin. He took it off.

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He stayed with him for three days. During that time, he embraced the feminine feelings he hid away for so long. He painted his toenails, did his hair, dresses, skirts, he loved it all. He still felt like a guy, but why not have a little fun?

The dress was done, and he got changed. He was given black flats and white nail polish. The guy looked at him like he was a prize and took him to a mirror. Art blushed. He loved the way he looked. He felt like a beauty queen.

"You look so beautiful, Artie." He said as he put a pearl necklace around his neck.

He gave him gloves and bracelets. He then sprayed perfume on him. He smelled like flowers.

"I feel so pretty." He smiled at himself in the mirror.

He never saw himself like this. He looked like his mother. He felt overjoyed, as if there was a big butterfly in his heart happily flying around. He had to go. He hugged him, thanked him so many times, then put his dress and accessories in a big bag.

He walked the streets of Queens with his head up high. He was unstoppable but also hungry. He went to a corner store. As he was paying, the cashier saw his painted nails.

"Man, you're a faggot!"

Art froze. He heard that word before, but that was the first time he was ever called that.

"Excuse me?"

"I said you're a faggot!" The cashier grabbed grabbed his hand to show his wife behind him. "Look, Barbara! A fag!"

Him and his wife laughed at him. The shame he carried with him at all times built up. He rushed out and ran back home. Once he was there, he locked himself away and cried like a baby. Paul tried to get him to talk, but he was too distressed to even speak.

He felt like he was slapped back into reality. He couldn't be who he wanted to be. He couldn't be who he was. He hid the dress away. Nobody could know. Out of sight, out of mind.

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"Arthur! Art, c'mon! Wake up!"

Art woke up to Paul shaking him and putting water on his face. Paul sighed in relief and forced him to lay on the couch. He still felt a little dizzy when Paul was sitting on the ground next to him.

"Are you ok? What happened?"

He never heard Paul be so concerned for him. He fainted before. It was when him and the rest of gym class were forced to go outside on a melting May day. He felt lightheaded and Paul tried to get the teacher to let them go back inside. He fainted after they were told no and went home early once he woke up. He heard that Paul had a panic attack right before he woke up. But he played it cool. He pretended that he knew that Art would be just fine. He wasn't pretending now. He was showing genuine concern for him.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Art's voice sounded tiny. His heart was beating out of his chest.

Paul spoke to him in a calm tone, "Yeah, you could tell me anything."

"I think I'm gay."

Paul's eyes looked like a dinner plate. That look made Art want to hide in the corner.

"Really? But you've always had girlfriends, you slept with girls before."

"I know, that's why I said I think." He took a deep breath. "I like girls too."

"Do you like one more than the other?"

"No, not really."

Paul started thinking back. The signs were always there, it was so obvious! He always looked at both genders when a kiss scene came on. He always avoided the people who didn't like gays. Ugh, why didn't he see it before?

"Do you like....me?"

"Ew."

They both laughed.

"Still, is there even a name for it?"

"I don't know, but you don't have to have a label." Once in a blue moon, Paul gets sentimental and cheesy. This was one of those times. "As long as you're my best friend, I don't care who you like."

Art smiled and hugged him. "Thank you." Then he giggled. "I have another secret."

"What?"

"Remember that girl from a few weeks ago? She made me a dress." He felt happy to tell him, but a little frightened. What if that was too much for him?

"Really? Can I see?"

Art grinned at him and went to the bedroom to get in the dress. When he was changed, he got nervous again. Paul sounded interested. What if he laughs at him?

A knock on the door. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm coming out now."

He shyly opened the door. Paul gasped as he walked towards him. He touched his dress and looked down at his shoes.

"You look so beautiful, man."

Art blushed, "Really?"

"Wow." Paul never looked so happy. "How do you feel?"

"Really happy."

Paul touched his necklace. "I'm glad you're happy." Then he hugged him. "Don't be scared to tell me anything, ok? I'll never get mad at you for something you can't control."

The weight that's been holding him down was gone. He was going to be happy now. "Thanks, man."