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"I just feel sort of silly." Finn said. And he did feel silly, although he so desperately wished he could wear a dress without feeling super dumb. His mate, Mek, also wished Finn could feel confident in women's clothes. For a ton of reasons.

"I think you look great, babe." He said. He set an arm around Finn's middle and brought him in for a tight side squeeze. Finn's ears blushed and layed down just a little bit flat. He was bashful, and he didn't believe what his mate was sayinig. If only there was a way to get the panther to feel as beautiful as Mek knew he was.

Finn didn't reply, so Mek just pulled him into a kiss. It helped Finn feel quite a bit better (Mek had that effect on him, of course). Although he was still nervous about tonight.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to." Mek said.

"I know."

"But, it's really okay, kitten. I won't be upset if we stay home. Or if you changed and we did still go out. It's totally fine."

"But I said I would do it. And I want to do it, for you."

"Hon, I don't care about that. I love that you would do it for me, and I love you. But I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with at all, not for me, not for anyone."

"I know. But-"

"I mean it." Mek said. Finn sighed.

"I know you mean it, husky. Just, give me a moment?"

"Take all the time you need kitten. Just remember-"

"Showtime is 5:30, I got it. I won't be long."

Mek measured his mate closely, then nodded. "Okay. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Finn smiled and nodded, and walked back into their room to think. Way he figured, when he came back out, there were two options. Either he would stay as he was, wearing this cute dress they had picked out together, with his claws painted a pastel pink which hilighted nicely against his black fur. He was sporting some dangly earrings as well, which was definitely outside the norm.

The worst part of it all was that, just an hour ago, he'd been nervous about going out all dressed up - but he had been insanely excited for it, too. And he enjoyed dressing up around the house quite a lot. At first it really was just for Mek, because it was something his mate was into. But it turned out that Finn really did enjoy feeling and being more feminine. A lot of his wardrobe had gotten tighter and more cute. But wearing dresses, or even just a skirt, felt like going a little too far. Especially to think about going outside in one, let alone going out on a whole date.

He had hardly started wearing the occasional skirt/dress around the house. He only wore them for Mek, only as a very rare treat, and mainly also only as a prelude to fantastic sex. Turned out that Mek was really, really into his mate wearing girl clothes. And Finn had been happy to provide for him in that way. After all, Mek had done so much for him throughout their time knowing each other. So what harm was it in wearing a dress every now and then?

It's just that, he hadn't expected Mek to actually make good on the offer of "I'll do anything you want," which Finn really should have known better than to offer as part of the bet. At the time he figured that they'd turn it into a sexy game of some sort. That was how dares were supposed to go. And sure, the idea of going out all crossdressed up was sexy in theory. But the true fact of the matter was that Finn, no matter how cute the dress looked on him, still felt like a guy wearing a dress. As though he just didn't have the feminine form required to properly fill out a dress.

It wasn't about not having breasts. They could easily have found inserts if that was something they wanted, although Finn didn't have interest in going quite that far with (what he still thought was) a game. Maybe he'd have felt different about it if they had gone all the way to transform him. But Finn just sighed, looking at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He knew it wasn't about his physical shape. On some level he probaby even agreed that he looked cute in the outfit.

What was really going on was primarily in his head.

It was the worst sort of problem to deal with. To know, on some level at least, that nothing was wrong - but to still feel wrong all the same. As far as Finn was concerned, it was just about the worst emotional position to be in. He had never fully been able to talk his way out of such a brain funk, but he figured he'd give it his best shot. He always did when it came too emotional issues, and besides, Mek's evening was on the line. Finn wanted to give Mek this experience. It's just that, he needed to want it for himself as well.

That was the ticket. Or, it would be, if it was attainable. But Finn just wasn't sure. After all, just look at the panther standing in the mirror there.

Finn didn't have a whole lot of bulk to his name. On some people you might call his chest and arms toned. But when he hit puberty his body shot straight toward the sky. Guess his body never got the memo that space had three whole dimensions available to fill. It just went all in on the one.

It wasn't particularly a bad thing. It never got him down for the majority of his life. So he was tall, and a little lanky - what's the big deal? He was still just Finn, that hadn't changed. What did it matter if one year he'd just started getting picked first for basketball all the time? Up until the other kids realized that, even though he'd gotten tall, he was still absolute shit with his coordination. A fact, by the way, which remains true to this day.

But even his clumsiness never bothered him all that much. Being clumsy was just part of who he was. Just like he was tall, and a panther, and a writer, and gay, and an enjoyer of burritos, and all the other stuff besides. He had basically never given a care in his life to his physical build.

Even in his past relationships Finn had scarcely felt insecure. If other people didn't like him for who he was, that was their fault, not his. More or less. So why on earth did wearing a dress cause him so much inner brief?

Was it Mek? Of course not. Finn's husky was just about the most supportive guy you could find. He didn't give out fake compliments, either. If he thought you looked sexy in a certain outfit, he'd say so. So Finn knew without a doubt that Mek thought he looked extremely cute in his dress. Maybe something was wrong with the dress, then? Maybe if it was some other sort of dress Finn wouldn't feel so funny about going out in it.

That was a silly idea too. He and Mek had picked it out together, because they both felt like it would hit Finn's slender frame well (to be honest, it did), and it was only a little lacy, just enough to make the dress a touch more fun without screaming that you were trying too hard. And while it's an odd descriptor to use, the color of the dress was exactly like a blue which was once vibrant, but had since faded. It made the dress look stately, and the shade of blue complimented Finn's black fur exactly.

The dress, in short, was great. It was more than great, it was perfect. Thinking that way, and focusing on the dress, with its color and patterning, for just a moment Finn felt like he was perfect, too.

That sensation didn't last entirely. It's astonishing how fleeting good vibes can be. But a little seed of it remained. Finn was a big believer that emotions don't lie. Everything is based on seeds of truth - it's what made him such a good writer. You find the seed inside a thought, then water it with characters and descriptions, a little bit of plot and a lot of love. It was amazing the things a good story could bring out, if only you find the right seed, and water it in just the right way.

That little moment he'd just had had been a seed. It was a moment of purity. The dress was great. It looked great against his fur. It fit is slender frame actually quite well. And, for just a split second, he had also been great. Whether or not he felt that way now, literally a moment later, it couldn't possibly invalidate the moment which had just passed. He was great. By requisite, a small part of him still was.

Because he was an author at heart, he started to develop a story around the idea. Maybe he should add "head in the clouds" as another descriptor of his, because when a story came to him he'd easily get lost. Finn imagined the story that small seed of belief might bring about. He saw, then, the night he'd give his character, if only stories could work that way. He saw the character and his mate go out on their date. They almost got hotdogs for whatever reason, but didn't because they didn't want to get the dress messy, and the main character (not unlike Finn) was clumsy enough that the dress wouldn't stand a chance against a hotdog. Or, any other food, really.

After their meal they went to see their movie. Then Finn saw a split in the story, where it could go either way. At first, nobody cared in the slightest that there was a boy wearing a dress in the theater. Finn thought that was boring, so instead he decided that someone tried bullying him for it, and Mek was there to save the day. Or, uh. Not Mek. The side character, whoever the other character was in the fictional future Finn saw.

It gave the panther pause to think. To really think. Not daydream, or imagine, or even to wallow around in emotions - just think.

A fictional future? Stories which happened to someone else, but not him? Even when he had just caught himself telling a story about himself and his mate. But then, to tell himself that it wasn't for him. It was the future he'd give to a character, with all the love and intent an author can give. But, what? Was he so unwilling to give that same future to himself? And what of Mek? Wasn't everyone, in some way, little more than characters in each other's stories? So what difference could it make if the stories were "real," or whether they involved people or only words on a page?

Then, Finn took Mek out of the equation. I wasn't enough to live life for the sake of other people. He couldn't go out of his way to write Mek's story. First of all, life wasn't made of fictional stories where you can just, decide what happens. You couldn't just decide to wear a dress on a date to make your boyfriend happy. You couldn't even do it to make yourself happy. You can't just decide what sort of story to write.

Except for, in some ways, maybe you could.

Finn started having another one of those moments he sometimes did, where he felt floating and placeless. Like when you're looking in the mirror and something breaks, and you realize that the person you're looking at is the same person other people see when you're just, like, walking around and stuff. Except, Finn had become other people, watching himself. In this way, and in the role of a watcher, as though his life really was a story he could choose to write how he pleased - Finn Panther had a thought.

What if, even for only a day, he did become a character after all? As though fate was out of his hands. What if he could write a story in his head, but then choose to make that story come true?

The idea was electric, to say the least. In this way, Finn seemed to vibrate with excitement to go out wearing a dress. No, not "a" dress. It was the dress, this particular dress. With this color of fabric, which exactly complimented his frame, and-

There wasn't any point in delaying things further, in dawdling around in the new thought experiment he'd just drummed up. Time was short. He glanced at the clock and nearly audibly gulped. Time was short indeed. They still had time to make the show. They could even hit a few red lights and still make it in time for the previews. It's just that Finn really didn't want to be late. If he was going to practice turning fiction into reality, he wanted the story to go ever just so. He wanted to try and get it right.

He practically sprang from the bed. Yet, even as he raced downstairs with every ounce of energy he had, he worked to bring his racing mind back to Earth. Even if only a bit. It was important to manage expectations, and that thought he'd just had was potentially night-ruining. You can't get everything right. You can't decide how life is going to go. But you could choose your actions - which means at least some dreams were guaranteed to be able to come true. Sure, you couldn't always dictate if you got to the theater in time when you'd decided at the last possible minute that you wanted to go after all. But you did get to decide whether you wore a dress or a pair of boy clothes.

Tonight, Finn was ecstatic to have chosen the dress.

He landed awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, yet stuck the landing with an extravagant flourish. He then smoothed back the dress, and wondered if he'd looked silly sprinting down stairs wearing a dress. That thought didn't linger long, though. In his oddly broken role as the watcher of his own life, he figured that the author could write that sort of thing down. Because right now, all he was worried about was living life in the moment. Not wondering what he looked like while wearing a dress. He skipped that part entirely, and focused instead on just wearing the thing. That was his job. The writer of his story could figure it out from there.

For the record, while he was sprinting down the stairs, it didn't look goofy, per se. But you could tell his tail hadn't been inserted quite all the way through the dress back. But you could hardly blame him - it's not like anyone had taught him about feline female fashion before.

He did look good, though. Real good.

As for Finn's boyfriend? Well, he though Finn looked pretty darn good as well.

"Ready to go!?" Finn asked, but also sort of huffed, because he had sprinted down the stairs with even more vigor than he'd realized.

"You look..." Mek began. Then trailed off, because he didn't have the words to describe how his mate looked. Radiant might have been close, but he didn't have the panther's vocabulary. But then, even Finn might not have the word to describe how Mek felt. Because Finn looked just-

"Perfect." Mek finished. "You look perfect."

"Aww. Thanks."

"No, Finn, I mean-"

"And I said thanks." Finn said. He sealed the deal by roping his arms around his mate's neck and pulling him into a kiss. Finn worked to put feminine energy into the kiss. He had no idea what that meant, or if it was even possible. But this was the story he was in, now. And this story called for a feminine kiss.

"Holy shit." Mek said when they finally broke their kiss. Mek was impressed by the influx of energy he was feeling from his mate. Whatever had happened upstairs really seemed to flip a switch inside the panther. He was practically exuding some form of feminine prowress. It was a night and day difference. It was intoxicating. Mek wanted another kiss quite desperately. Not to mention a certain fervor growing between his legs which wanted something a little bit more.

"We're late." Finn said. He was being coy. How like him to tease like that. It fired Mek right up, especially knowing that, if the panther got his way, then Mek would have to endure this same level of teasing all night. If things kept up at this rate, though, then Mek might not be able to wait that long.

Still, Mek returned to the moment. It was telling how natural the moment felt when he reached for his phone to check the time. Only after addressing the logistics of the moment did he realize he'd missed something critical.

"Wait. So, we're going?"

"Of course."

"Like that?" Mek asked. Then he grimaced something fierce. He shouldn't have called attention to Finn's outfit. Mek knew it was a sensitive situation. He caught himself hoping Finn wouldn't change his mind.

"Like what?" Finn asked. Which, again, was a blasted tease. Finn knew damn well 'like what.'

"Dressed like-"

"Like a girl?"

"Well, yeah." Mek said.

Then Finn flourished the dress a little bit. Again, this Finn was a night and day difference from the Finn of only ten minutes ago or so. Somehow this little game of his, where he was acting like a character in a story he was writing: It was working. His confidence was through the roof. And with the right amount of confidence you can pull off any look at all.

For all Mek was concerned with, it looked all the world like his mate had been born in a dress. The way Finn moved in it was more fluid than any cat he'd ever seen. Hell, most girls couldn't pull off the gentle, casual grace Finn was exuding right now. Somehow it felt like he was sporting the most "big dick energy" he'd ever had in his life. Strange that it came about while also adopting the most feminine persona he'd ever put on.

And Mek really needed to stop considering all this, because his dick was getting really uncomfortable pressed up inside his jeans. He didn't want to give Finn the satisfaction of a successful tease (although who was he kidding, Finn knew full well the effect he had), but Mek reached inside his pants to adjust himself anyway. There wasn't any helping it: Sometimes you just, had to adjust. It sure made Finn rise an eyebrow, though.

"Need help with that, hon?" He asked. All he was missing was bright red lipstick to pull of the air of a demoness of the night. It took everything Mek had to say no.

"We're going to be late." He said.

"Is that so bad?" Finn asked. His words drippped with sex. He approached his mate with a certain sashay, and put a hand right on the husky's boner as he came in for an embrace.

Where on earth was all this coming from!?

"Finn." Mek said. But he had to repeat the cat's name a few times before Mek got his attention.

"Finn. Finn. Finn!" Mek finally emphasized, lightly shaking his mate by the shoulders.

"Yeah? What?"

"Are you okay?" Mek asked.

"Huh? Of course, why?"

"I'm just making sure. You have this crazy energy right now. I like it, but I want to make sure it's really you."

"Really me? What do you mean?"

"It's just, you're different. You're not just doing this for me, are you? Because if you are-"

Finn cut him off by pulling the husky's muzzle onto his own. The panther was getting awfully good at this feminine kiss thing.

"It's me." Finn said when their kiss broke. He said it point blank, and as naked as he could, staring his mate dead in the eyes. The panther dropped all pretenses for that moment. He wasn't Finn, the author of his own story, nor was he the feminine Finn here on the ground floor. Just Finn. Plain, simple, and pure.

With the look he gave to Mek came all the assurance the husky could ever need. This was real. It was really happening. He was actually going out in public, out on a date, with his mate, who was crossdressed and sexy and glamorous and just- perfect.

Thing was, Mek realized that it wasn't his own fantasy which was coming to life. Finn wasn't doing this for anyone but himself. It was the missing element which let the panther come full into himself, and exude this wild energy of his.

"What happened upstairs?" Mek finally asked. At this point they really were going to be late, but he was dying to know.

Pragmatically, Finn said "I'll tell you in the car." And they were on their way.