Don't Feed the Trolls - Ch. 04 (7k words)

[ElevatedWit]

Morning, loser. 

In case you were curious, I didn’t think about you at all last night. 

****************

It was funny what a big difference good hygiene made. Despite all the annoyances going on his life (Varun, the troll, et al.) Whit couldn't help smiling as he got dressed the next morning. Nice clean room. Nice clean clothes. Nice clean panties, slipping smoothly up his hairless legs. He hadn't noticed before, but there really had been kind of a dank, musty smell in his room. It was much better now.

Okay, maybe it was a little embarrassing that he had only done all this cleaning because of other people bullying him about it. But it was still his own decision. He was in control. 

This was not like high school.

Whit sent the troll another panty pic. They were white this time, delicate material with lacy edges and a little bow in the middle. Whit’s tummy felt a little funny as he took the picture. They were just so girly. Obviously, they were panties after all. But it was disturbing just how much they made him look girly, too. The panties clung tightly to his underdeveloped body, framing his wide hips and sleek, soft thighs. Even his junk was just a gentle bulge in the crotch, hidden away in a prison of feminine fabric. 

Whit swallowed anxiously and zipped his pants back up. Maybe this was a bad idea. Varun had given him such a weird look last night, when he was asking about kinky stuff. Maybe he should just cut his losses with the troll before things somehow backfired and made everyone else think he was a sissy too. He slumped into his chair with a sigh, but sat bolt upright when he caught his own image in the webcam. More specifically, his hair. 

Whit had never cared about his hair one way or another. That was why he had left it unattended for so long, content to push it back or bury the dirty mess under a toque. But now that it had been cleaned up and given time to dry, it looked… different. It was a few shades lighter, for one thing. And somehow a little longer, almost down past his chin, like the length had been hidden by all the tangles. Whit grimaced. He hadn’t realised it had been that bad. But geez, it cleaned up nice. He ran his fingers through it, grinning at how light and silky it felt now. He shook his head side to side, and watched as his hair fanned out, swishing cleanly through the air. Okay, fuck, that was kinda cool. He would have to get a haircut, obviously, he didn’t want people thinking he was fruity. But he could appreciate it just on an aesthetic level. He primped at it, taking in the way it shone in the crisp morning light. It was a nice colour. He had gotten used to the drab, dull brown, but it looked warmer and fresher now. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud. Maybe he should show Varun. 

No. No, that was stupid. He blushed with embarrassment. What was he thinking? He didn’t care what Varun thought. About anything. Least of all his appearance. 

He could show the troll, though. 

It wouldn’t be smart to send a troll a photo of his face, but Whit had a solution to that. He hunted through his dresser drawer. A few years ago, he had been invited to a Halloween party that some jerk from his high school was throwing. He ended up bailing out to play video games instead (Halloween was dumb, anyway) but he still had – aha! – a little domino mask he was gonna wear as part of his costume. Perfect. Whit put on the mask and snapped a photo, making sure he had his hair lined up nice to catch the sunlight, and sent it off to the troll with a smug smile. Stinky, who?

Whit got dressed for work and made his way to the kitchen with a spring in his step. His good mood was only slightly ruined when he found Varun in there. 

“Hey Bug,” Varun said. He was fiddling with his coffee machine, a steel behemoth that probably cost a year of Whit’s pay. “You want coffee?” 

Whit scowled, “No.”

“Come on, I make a mean cup of joe,” Varun flashed him a cheesy grin. Whit ignored it and headed to the pantry to make himself a bowl of cereal. 

“Coffee addiction is a great way to waste money,” Whit said, “And that stupid thing takes up way too much counter space.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Varun said, “But man, I would never have made it through college without this thing. The coffee in Mass is completely awful. You know they say America runs on Dunkin’?”

“Mhm,” Whit grunted. He was almost out of Froot Loops. He would have to go shopping later. 

“Well, I tried the coffee from Dunkin’, and it suddenly made sense why that country is so fucked up,” said Varun. 

Whit laughed, then immediately snapped his mouth shut. It was too late, though. Varun was grinning at him like a goon. Whit buried his head in the refrigerator so he wouldn’t get any ideas about them being friends again.

“Come on Bug, I heard that laugh,” said Varun.

“It was a cough,” said Whit. Damn it, there was no milk in here. 

“Sorry, I forgot how much respect you have for the wise and noble people of the United States,” said Varun. 

Whit laughed again, and slammed the fridge shut, annoyed at his moral weakness. Varun chuckled and passed him the milk, which he had been selfishly keeping to himself over by the coffee machine. 

“Thanks,” Whit said. 

“You know, my old roommate kept telling me I should drink raw milk,” Varun said. 

“What? What a fucking idiot!” Whit said, “If he thought unpasteurised milk was healthy, did he also eat all his food raw? Did he sleep on a pile of unprocessed cotton, and iron ore, and feathers that were still attached to the fucking duck?”

Varun smirked, “Nope, somehow his bed got a pass. But he said raw milk was better because it was more natural.”

“Oh, I fucking bet,” Whit gesticulated with the milk carton, building up steam, “Probably a fucking antivaxxer too. Hello, you know what else is natural? Dog turds. Spider venom. Carbon monoxide!”

Varun cackled, and Whit felt a flush of warmth in his chest. Fuck, this was... he had missed this. This was how they had spent a lot of lunch breaks back in high school, Whit ranting about all the idiots they encountered, and Varun egging him on eagerly. It felt nice. Too nice.

“Anyway, that guy sounds fucking dumb,” Whit said. 

“Yeah,” said Varun, “My new roommate is a definite upgrade.”

Whit grimaced and turned away, sitting at the kitchen table to eat his cereal. After a moment, Varun joined him, his large frame making Whit feel crowded in even with just the two of them at the table. 

“Hey, I wanted to say sorry about yesterday,” Varun said gently, “I didn’t mean to come across as judgmental, or anything.”

Whit squirmed, keeping his eyes firmly focused on his Froot Loops, “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“No, it was shitty of me,” Varun said, “You’re right, guys talk about sex stuff. I shouldn’t have been so weird about it. It’s just that… things haven’t been going so great between me and Priya.”

“Mhm,” Whit was just gonna finish his breakfast as fast as possible and get the hell out of here. He did not need to hear about whatever insipid relationship drama Varun had going on. 

“I thought we were ready for long distance, but it’s been tough,” Varun said, “And honestly, sex is a big part of that. I didn’t realise how much of our relationship was about sex.”

“Mhm!” Whit shovelled down Fruit Loops as fast as he could. He definitely, definitely did not need to hear this. But he could hardly reverse his stance on sex talk now!

“When we lived together, we’d be having sex two, three times a day,” Varun said wistfully, “It was great. She’s so passionate, you know? She unlocked this side of me I didn’t realise was there.”

On second thought, Whit wasn’t actually that hungry. He stood up and dumped out the rest of his cereal in the sink. 

“Anyway, we tried having phone sex a couple of times, but it’s not the same, you know?”

“Sure,” said Whit, like he had any idea what the fuck phone sex was supposed to be like.

“But then you brought up kink stuff, and it kinda struck a nerve,” Varun rubbed his neck awkwardly, “Cause there is some stuff I’m into, and I was gonna bring it up with Priya, but I dunno if I should…”

Whit frowned, “Why not?”

Varun grimaced, “Some of it’s kind of… niche. I don’t want her to think I’m a creep.”

Whit scoffed, “Fucking typical.”

“What?”

“This is the same shit you were talking about yesterday! You stopped watching anime so people don’t think you’re a dork, you dress like a corporate tool so people will think you work hard, you pluck your fucking eyebrows to impress your girlfriend. You’re fake!” Whit snapped, “If you actually had any confidence in who you are, you wouldn’t be so fucking obsessed with what other people think of you!”

“What the fuck, Whit? That’s…” Varun’s voice trailed off, and his brow creased with concern, “Shit. Yeah. That’s kind of true.”

Whit’s eyes widened, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Varun nodded slowly, “Okay. You’re right. I’m gonna talk to my girlfriend about sex.” He looked up at Whit and grinned sheepishly, “Thanks for the advice.”

“Sure,” Whit said, “I gotta get ready for work.”

Varun shrugged and pulled out his phone. Whit hunched his shoulders and made a beeline back to his room. 

“Your hair looks nice, by the way!” Varun called out. 

Whit couldn’t help but smile a little at that. 

*****

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

Whit sighed, his good mood rapidly souring. It was always something with this guy.

[Footballfan43]

you really are a sissy, little ellie 

shpwing off for me?

[ElevatedWit]

I was just correcting your accusation about my supposedly dirty hair. As you can see it is perfectly clean and well kept. 

I'm not showing off, this is what it normally looks like.

No big deal to me. 

[Footballfan43]

I meant ue face sissy

putting on makeup and mask like carnival queen??

so desparate for sttention of men 😂😂😂

Whit’s nose wrinkled in confused distaste. The troll was really losing it now. 

[ElevatedWit] 

I don't wear makeup, troll. I'm a straight man. 

[Footballfan43] 

don't be so modest sissy i see u have been working hard 

pretty pink lipstick for sucking cock

blushy cheeks to make nice target for real men to cum on 

weird little mask somehow also related to cocksucking im sure 🥱

u really have a one track mind ellie 

[ElevatedWit]

My name is not fucking Ellie and I don't suck cocks or wear fucking makeup. 

You are deranged. 

Whit scanned the picture critically. His lips were very pink, and his cheeks were quite red, but they only looked that way in contrast to his admittedly very pale skin. It was a cold morning, of course his cheeks were a bit rosy. It could maybe be mistaken for makeup, but only if you were the dumbest person on earth. 

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

In retrospect it made sense the troll was confused. 

Whit set the record straight, using the smallest words he could, since he was becoming increasingly convinced the troll was functionally illiterate. It was no good though. The stupid asshole refused to see reason. And he wouldn't even acknowledge how nice Whit's hair looked. Even Varun had been smart enough to notice that. 

[Footballfan43]

sissy, sissy

It's ok I understand u are embarrassed

u tried your best with ur makeup and ur sad u still look like a dumb sissy whore 

[ElevatedWit] 

That's not why I'm upset!

And I'm not upset!

Listen, idiot, if I was actually wearing makeup don't you think I would do a better job than that? 

[Footballfan43]

ya u rly fucked if up dumb sissy

yk eyeshadow is supposed to go on top your eye not below

[ElevatedWit] 

Why do you know that pervert? Sounds like you're the one who wears makeup.

[Footballfan43]

i seen my gf gets ready for date ssisy 

no surprise u never have 😂😂😂

[ElevatedWit]

Of course I have! My girlfriend is great at makeup, she wears it all the time when we have sex!

[Footballfan43]

then why she never gave u any tip to fix urs? 😂😂😂

[ElevatedWit]

BECAUSE I'M NOT WEARING ANY!!!

Whit snarled at the computer. Despite how self evidently stupid the accusation that he was wearing makeup may be, it put him in the frustrating position of having to prove a negative. 

This was just his normal male face! If he was wearing makeup he would look completely different!

Wait, that was it! A way to disprove the absurd makeup claims, and also back up his story about having a girlfriend. 

[ElevatedWit]

I'll prove it. I'll get my girlfriend to put makeup on me, and you'll realise how insane you were to think that I was wearing it in that photo. 

[Footballfan43] 

😂😂😂

sure sissy

get her now then, let's see her genie magic 😂

if she's real

[ElevatedWit] 

She’s at work. 

Whit frowned. As good as this plan was, it did require him to actually wear makeup, and to do a good enough job that it was believable a real woman had done it. 

[ElevatedWit]

In fact she's on a business trip for the rest of the week. She's a very successful businesswoman. 

She'll do it when she gets back. After we finish having kinky sex, of course. 

That was a good touch. Whit smirked to himself. This was actually playing right into his hands. The troll was trying to embarrass him, but it only ended up making him seem even cooler.

[Footballfan43]

yea right sissy 😂😂😂

Whit heard a distant clunk from the front door as Varun headed out to work. It looked like the troll had said his piece, so Whit took advantage of his new privacy to do some research. 

He was going to have to figure out makeup somehow, but it couldn't be that hard. He looked up some tutorials, and his heart sank a little. God, there were a lot of steps, and a lot of stupid little products he was gonna need to buy. Another sneaky trip to Winners, then. 

He set that aside for the moment and started on the other part of his plan. He had some more purchases to make. Things he definitely couldn't buy at Winners. 

He smirked to himself as he shopped. This stupid troll was gonna feel real silly, real soon.

*****

For once, Whit was in a great mood at work. Things were going well with the troll, Varun was being less annoying, and he got a pleasant reminder of his nice clean hair whenever he bent over or turned his head. Even another check-in from Sophie couldn’t ruin his day. 

“Hi, Whitaker!” she said, her brainless smile even emptier than usual as her eyes flickered nervously over something on her phone. “Could you be totally awesome and spend some time on the register today? It would be really good for our metrics.”

Whit snorted. Imagine how sad his life to be to care about something as meaningless as store metrics. He had more important things to worry about, things that a Telus-pilled bimbo like Sophie could never comprehend. Things like… well, admittedly at the moment it was hair and makeup. But in general. 

“No, I don’t see that happening,” he snarked, “I think my time would be better spent organising the stockroom.”

“Love the initiative!” she nodded, “The stockroom is pretty well organised, though! I think having you on register would be amazing.”

Her persistence would’ve been irritating if Whit wasn’t in such a good mood. Fortunately, Sophie didn’t have any real power. She may be shift supervisor, but it wasn’t like she could fire him or anything. The worst she could do was complain to the store manager, a middle-aged stoner who Whit knew would never bother doing anything about it. 

“Talking to dumbass customers all day isn’t my idea of amazing,” Whit quipped. 

Sophie bit her lip, a flash of impotent frustration on her pretty face. But then she brightened up. 

“I totally get it,” she said, “Helping customers can be really difficult. Not everyone is up to the challenge.”

Whit bristled, “It’s not that I’m not up to it…”

“If you’re worried that it’s too hard for you, I totally understand,” Sophie said airily, “People think it’s easy to provide good customer service, but it takes a lot. If you don’t think you can handle it…”

“Of course I can handle it!” Whit snapped, “Sophie, if this is some sad attempt at reverse psychology, it’s not gonna work. I’m not the kind of idiot who falls for manipulation tactics like that.”

Sophie pouted, “Okay, okay. I get it.”

“Good,” Whit said primly, and turned to make his way to the stockroom. 

“I should’ve realised,” Sophie said sadly, “Obviously you’re too smart for a trick like that. That’s the whole reason I wanted you on register in the first place.”

Whit turned back, curious despite himself.

“Most of these other guys…” Sophie lowered her voice conspiratorily, and Whit leaned in to listen, “They don’t really have the brains to handle all the arithmetic, you know? Making change and stuff like that.”

Whit scoffed, “Morons.”

“Totally,” Sophie giggled, “Like, it’s not that hard, right?”

“Yeah,” Whit said, “I mean, how often do you even have to make change? Don’t people pay by card most of the time?”

“Exactly!” Sophie whispered, “See, you get it. Honestly, if you have, like, half a brain, working register is the easiest job in the store. Way less hassle than having to lug merchandise around or whatever.”

Whit nodded thoughtfully. Sophie was making some good points. And man, what a relief to know that she recognised how dumb their coworkers were. There was more going on inside that pretty head than he realised. It was kind of fun, conspiring with her like this. 

“You smell great, by the way,” Sophie winked, “Thanks for taking my advice.”

“Oh, yeah,” Whit blushed. God, he really didn’t need to be reminded of that embarrassing little encounter. He shifted uncomfortably, once again aware of the feel of soft, tight panties hugging his behind.

“And did you do something with your hair?” said Sophie, “I love the new colour!”

Whit almost corrected her, but realised that maybe admitting his hair had only been so dark because he hadn’t washed it in over a year might not help his reputation as the stinky guy at work. 

“Um, Yep,” he said weakly, “Just trying something new.”

“That’s so great,” Sophie gushed, “Smart and stylish.”

Whit couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t so bad, when she was giving him compliments instead of annoying instructions. And she was quite pretty, although obviously that was partly because she wore so much makeup. Wait, actually, that was perfect. 

“How do you do your makeup?” he blurted. 

Sophie tilted her head, confused, “Pardon?”

Whit blushed. Fuck, that came out wrong. It came out stupid, which he wasn’t. 

“I was just, um,” his eyes darted nervously around the store, hoping that some annoying customer would wander over and save him. No dice. “I was just curious because… I was wondering how makeup is… um…”

“Well…” Sophie teased, “Since you agreed to help me out by taking the register, maybe I could give you some tips after work?”

“Yeah, thanks!” Whit grinned, then quickly modulated down to a more normal level of enthusiasm, “I think I have some free time.”

“Alright, legend,” Sophie grinned, “Better get to it, then!”

Whit headed over to the register with a spring in his step. It didn't take long for him to regret his decision. It turned out that a lot of customers still insisted on paying in cash, and counting out change actually could be a little tricky sometimes. Still, it was nothing he couldn’t handle, and he has enough free time between customers to come up with a better cover story for the makeup thing. By the time he and Sophie had clocked off, he was ready to assuage any suspicions. 

“I lost a bet,” he said, “On a hockey game, with my friends. And the punishment is that I have to wear makeup the next time we watch a game. But I have to do a good job or else it doesn't count, in which case I would have to do another punishment. And I'm not supposed to ask for help, so that's why I'm secretly asking you instead of one of my female friends. And also that's why you can't tell anyone else about this.”

“Uh,” Sophie blinked, “Okay.”

“And also, I lost another bet earlier,” Whit said, with a flash of inspiration, “And the punishment for that was that I couldn't do laundry. So that's why I smelled bad, not because I have bad hygiene.”

“Sure,” Sophie said slowly, clearly falling for it completely. Whit suppressed a grin. He was getting good at this.

“So anyway, that's why I need to know how to do makeup,” Whit said brashly, “I could obviously figure it out on my own, but I just don't have any interest in that kind of girly crap, so I figured I would ask you.”

Sophie nodded, sipping her coffee as she thought. They were sitting at a table at the Tim Horton’s in the mall. Whit had explained thoroughly why coffee was such a waste of money, but Sophie ended up buying one anyway. Some people were beyond help. 

Whit had acquiesced and bought himself some timbits. He would need fuel for this conversation. Sophie could be a lot. 

“For the record,” Sophie said, “If it wasn't a bet–”

“It is,” said Whit.

“Sure,” said Sophie, “But if it wasn't, that would be–”

“It is, though,” said Whit. 

“Totally,” said Sophie, “But if maybe you did just want to try out wearing makeup–”

“As if,” Whit scoffed, “Sophie, I don't want to wear makeup. That's the whole point of the bet. If I liked wearing makeup, it wouldn't be a punishment. So the very fact that I'm doing this is proof that I don't like it!”

“Okay, okay!” Sophie held up a hand in surrender, “I'm just saying, there's nothing wrong with guys wearing makeup.”

Sure, there was nothing wrong with it, if those guys were fucking gay. Whit bit back that excellent retort. He still needed Sophie’s help, after all. 

“Yeah, I guess,” said Whit, “But I seriously just need this for the bet. So can you tell me what to buy, or whatever?”

Sophie eyed him warily for a moment, her eyes wandering over his hair, then down to his arms, and then back to his face with a knowing smile. 

“Sure thing,” she said, her voice softer and gentler than her usual customer service pep during work hours, “Maybe we could go on a little shopping trip together, and I could help you find your colours?” 

Whit let Sophie lead him around Winners, explaining all the various little goops and crap bottles that made up a makeup kit. Weirdly, she kept smiling at him, and giving him compliments about how brave he was for doing this, and how much the makeup was gonna suit him. A few times, she tested colours against Whit’s skin, and she would always hold his hand gently as she stroked the brushes gently across his skin. Whit was confused why she was being so nice, until suddenly it hit him. 

She had a crush on him. 

It was a weird feeling. Whit hadn’t had any female friends since he started high school and grew out of all their girly crap, and he definitely hadn’t wasted any of his precious time on dating. But something about hanging out with Sophie felt pretty good. Her obvious infatuation was a definite ego boost, at least. He found himself smiling back at her, laughing at her little jokes, and acting like he actually cared about the makeup stuff she seemed so excited about. The more he played along, the more she seemed into him, and the more it lifted his mood, until the two of them were giggling like idiots as they made their way to the self-checkout. 

Fuck, it was another hit to his bank account. Sophie had picked out a lot of crap which she swore was all essential, and even at Winners prices it added up. But whatever. He could probably return it after he shut down the troll. 

“This was really fun, Whit,” Sophie said, laying a soft hand on Whit's arm. Man, she was down bad. 

“Eh, it was fine,” Whit shrugged coolly, “I'm just looking forward to winning this bet.”

“Sure,” Sophie hesitated, “And, um, if you ever wanted to wear makeup to work, that would be totally cool, you know?”

Whit snorted, “Yeah right.”

Whit bid her farewell and mused over the prospect of dating Sophie as he headed home, his arms laden with makeup bottles and brushes and other miscellaneous junk. Sure, it was flattering that Sophie was so keen on him, but she was still obviously not that smart. The way she kept insinuating he was actually interested in makeup was utterly ridiculous. How could she have misinterpreted his intentions that badly?

*****

Whit breezed right through the apartment, passing by Varun who was hunched over on the couch, staring despondently at his phone. Varun looked up as Whit passed, but he hurried quickly to stash the makeup in his room before he could get a good look at it. 

Whit plopped down at his laptop, wondering what to do with all his energy. He could play some video games, own some morons on Reddit, or maybe… watch some porn. It had been a while since he had jerked off, what with all of the troll’s bullshit getting in his head, and it would be a good idea to release some of his tension. Not with sissy porn, obviously. He didn't even like that stuff. But maybe he could treat himself to something a little kinky. Bondage, maybe…

There was a knock at the door and Whit whipped around, instinctively reaching to slam his laptop shut. But for once, his door actually remained closed.

“Well, that can't be Varun,” he said with a smirk, “Or the door would have just burst open.”

Varun didn't laugh at his very funny joke, instead just responding with a sombre, “Sorry, Bug.”

Whit frowned and closed his porn tab, leaving his browser on an innocuous Reddit post. He rolled his chair to the door, cracking it open to reveal his roommate slumped morosely against the wall. 

“Did you want something?” said Whit, “If this is about the dishes, I was just about to do them in a few hours.”

“No, that's… that's fine,” Varun’s eyes were downcast, regretful, the same mopey expression he used to make back in high school when he was worried about failing a test, or got rejected by a girl. Whit wasn't too concerned. Varun always ended up passing those tests, and girls were more trouble than they were worth. Whatever he was worried about now was probably just as inconsequential.

“Alright then, I'm kind of busy right now…” Whit gestured towards his computer. 

“Sure…” Varun said quietly, “It's just… um…”

He crossed his arms and glanced back towards the living room. It was a casual stance, and given Varun's size, almost intimidating. Except Whit recognised it, recognised the way Varun used to hunch his shoulders like that when he was really upset. Despite himself, he felt bad for the guy. 

“What's up, Varun?” Whit said, a little gentler. 

“I was wondering if you would maybe wanna hang out?” Varun said hopefully. 

Whit sighed and slumped back in his seat, “If this is another stupid get-together with a bunch of assholes I never liked, you can–”

“No, no,” Varun said quickly, “I was just thinking maybe the two of us could hang out in the living room? Watch some more of that anime, maybe?”

He looked so genuinely hopeful. It had been nice, watching anime with his old friend. He hadn’t done that in years. Not since Varun fucked off to the States and left Whit all alone. 

“Oh,” Whit said. It wasn't quite what he’d been planning, but it was a good show. And he could always jerk off later. “Yeah, sure.”

“Sick,” Varun grinned, “Thanks, Bug.”

They picked up where they had left off the night before. Dragon 8 had been defeated, but this led into one of Whit’s favourite arcs from when he had watched the show as a kid. With his final blow, Dragon 8 had exorcised the demon king from the hero, leaving him stuck in his mortal form: the wandering samurai Johnny Basketball (they were watching the English dub). As Johnny searched for the demon king, Whit snuck glances at Varun, who was becoming more and more engrossed in the story. He was perched on the edge of his seat like a little kid, eyes locked on the screen. Whit grinned to himself. Whatever had gotten Varun in such a bad mood seemed to be forgotten now. 

“I think I remember this,” said Varun, “The demon king ends up bonding with somebody else, right? And it’s a whole mystery about who the new host is?”

“That’s right,” said Whit, pleased with Varun’s memory, “I guess college didn’t fill your brain up with too much normie crap after all.”

“Normie crap’s not all that bad, Whit. You could use a little more normie crap in your life,” Varun said, but his voice was more teasing than judgmental, and he laughed when Whit flipped him off.

“Fuck you,” said Whit, “Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you who the demon king’s new host is.”

“They reveal it at the end of the episode, don’t they?” Varun frowned.

Whit shook his head, “It’s a whole story arc.”

“Aw, what?” Varun’s face fell, then he settled back in the couch with a snort of derision, “Whatever, Bug, I’m pretty sure I remember it anyway. He ends up bonding with Dragon 8, doesn’t he?”

“Nope,” Whit smirked, “That’s a red herring, remember? Dragon 8 was just metamorphosing into Dragon 9.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” said Varun, “So… was it Johnny’s dad? No, his mentor, the pervert old man.”

“Maybe,” Whit said breezily, kicking his feet up on the coffee table with a smug grin. 

“No, this is really gonna bug me,” Varun laughed, “Tell me who it was, Bug. It was the old man, right? Wait, no, his girlfriend? Sally Softball? Fuck, the names in this show are so bad.”

“I dunno,” Whit said, “You tell me.”

Varun huffed, crossing his arms in frustration. Whit had to stifle a giggle. He remembered doing this in high school, winding up his friend until Varun exploded. Now that Varun was a big, strong man with a real job, and a college degree, and a girlfriend, it was even more satisfying to play with his emotions. 

“Bug!” Varun whined, “Just tell me who it is, dude. I’m not gonna be able to enjoy the show if I’m wondering about it the whole time!”

“It’s a mystery, Varun!” Whit laughed, “You should feel lucky you get to see it play out!”

“Buuuuug!”

“Fine!” Whit sighed dramatically, curling a finger through his hair, “The twist is… the demon king never existed in the first place. It was all a hallucination Johnny had, to convince himself that it was okay to seek revenge for his mother’s death.”

Varun’s eyes went wide.

“His mother, Betty Basketball,” Whit concluded. They really were some fucking awful names. 

“Wait, really?” said Varun “That’s the actual twist?”

“Nope,” Whit giggled.

“Fucker!” Varun laughed.

They ended up watching eight episodes that night, Varun repeatedly insisting on “just one more” so he could find out where the demon king had gone. Whit had to hold back a laugh every time. If Varun thought this storyline would be wrapped up that quickly, he had another thing coming. 

Eventually, Varun looked at the clock and groaned. He got to his feet with a sigh, stretching his shoulders and making his shirt ride up a bit, revealing a peek of the dark hair tracing along his soft tummy. Whit bit his lip. It would be easy to make some jab about Varun being overweight, but it had been such a fun night. Better to just leave it. 

“I gotta get to bed,” he said, “But this shit is not over, Bug. You gotta tell me where the demon king ended up.”

Whit shrugged innocently, “If you wanna know so bad, you’ll just have to keep watching.”

“Fine,” Varun glared at him, “Tomorrow night. We are picking up right where we left off. Got it?”

“You’re on,” Whit matched his gaze, firm and unyielding. 

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Varun cracked a smile, and Whit couldn’t help but smile too as his roommate turned and headed back to bed. 

Whit sighed and laid back on the couch, grinning like an idiot. God, it had been a good fucking day. His old friend was acting more like himself, his boss had a crush on him, and his plan to defeat the troll was going better than ever. All he had to do now was wait for his package to be delivered and figure out makeup. How hard could that be?

Real fucking hard, it turned out. 

Whit had assumed that if a bimbo like Sophie could do it, it must be pretty easy. But after following along with a YouTube tutorial, all he had managed to do was make himself both look and feel really, really weird. He had tried to avoid looking at the mirror until he was done, but clearly this was the wrong move. His foundation was patchy, his blush was uneven, and the eyeliner didn’t even bear talking about. He wiped it all off as fast as he could, glad that Varun had fixed the lock on the bathroom door. He looked like a fucking idiot, like some crossdressing perv, an actual sissy like the troll had accused him of being. His stomach curdled at the thought. 

Well, fuck makeup. He didn’t want to be good at it anyway. He would have to be, of course, as part of the plan, but that could wait. He had the rest of the week after all. He packed up his makeup and stormed back to his bedroom, remembering at the last minute that he still had to do his daily booty workout. 

Ugh. The stupid hoops he had to jump through to prove his masculinity. 

As the week went on, Whit settled into his new routine. A quick workout in the morning, gritting his teeth at Michelle Champion’s perky platitudes, followed by a shower where he made sure to keep his body clean-shaven so that the troll wouldn’t call out the inconsistency in his cover story, then slip on a fresh pair of panties, take a pic for proof, and get dressed for work, where Sophie was continuing to take a keen interest in him, offering help and encouragement and every opportunity. Whit couldn’t help but be flattered by her obvious crush, and the confidence boost it gave him made interacting with customers almost tolerable. He even made a few sales. 

In the evening, he kept watching anime with Varun. He had been profoundly annoyed when another six episodes went by without getting any closer to revealing the demon king’s new host, which only made it more fun to tease him about it. It really was starting to feel just like old times, sharing a couch with his (former) best friend, watching a dumb show and trading jabs back and forth. Whit found himself sneaking glances at the clock each night, dreading the inevitable moment when Varun would have to head to bed. And not just because that meant it was time for Whit to practice his makeup. 

He was getting better, slowly but surely, but he still wasn’t confident. It wasn’t enough to do a decent amateurish job, his makeup needed to look perfect, like it had been applied by a woman with years of experience, instead of a man who was only doing it to prove a point. At this rate, the troll was going to think his girlfriend was a complete moron, if he even believed that she existed at all. 

By Thursday evening, Whit was actually a little worried. The troll had been pretty quiet this week, only responding to Whit’s pictures with his usual searing insight…

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

…but Whit knew that his victory in their ongoing argument hinged on that makeup photo. He tried to put it out of his head as he curled up on the couch for another viewing session with Varun, but he was wearing another thong today, and he could feel the lace tickling against the sensitive skin between his cheeks, making him shiver.

“You okay, Bug?” asked Varun. He settled onto the couch, his bulky body stretching the springs and tilting Whit towards him. 

“What? Yes. I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay? Are you okay? Why are you asking so many questions?” Whit said nonchalantly, casually scrambling back towards his end of the couch.

Varun gave him a puzzled look, and then a sly smile spread across his face, “Oh shit, this is it, right? This is the episode where we find out what happened to the demon king?”

His eyes shone with earnest optimism and Whit had to fight not to burst into laughter. Not even close. They still had about eleven episodes to go. There were a lot of things you could say about the writing of Demon King’s Sunrise, but “concise” wasn't one of them. 

“Maybe,” Whit grinned, “Y'know, I can't really remember.”

“Bullshit,” said Varun, “We have to be close by now. Or else I’m gonna have a conniption.”

Whit rolled his eyes, “If it's that important to you, you could always just look it up. The internet exists for a reason.”

“Yeah,” Varun sighed, “But I know you get off on watching me suffer.”

Whit turned red, “I'm not getting off on it!”

Varun laughed, “You so are, dude.”

“I'm not!” Whit protested, fighting to keep his voice level, “I'm not a fucking perv, Varun!”

“What?” Varun said, “I know, Bug, it was a joke.”

Whit froze, then shrunk back into his seat. Of course. Yes. He had gotten so used to pushing back against the troll’s accusations that he had forgotten that wasn't something he needed to worry about in real life. 

“I knew that,” he muttered, “I was just playing along.”

Varun was still looking at him a bit oddly, so Whit hurriedly pressed play so they could start watching the show and stop thinking about whether he was or wasn't getting off on his friend’s reactions. 

He couldn't deny that it felt really good. Not sexual, obviously! Not at all. Just comfortable. Nostalgic. With every episode that went by, Varun bombarded Whit with questions, which he could easily answer or deflect at his leisure, and theories, which he took great pleasure in shooting down. After a few episodes, Whit had forgotten whatever he had been worried about and was eagerly watching Varun watch the show, cackling wickedly every time he got baited by a cliffhanger, and soaking in his frustrated groans as yet another episode ended without a resolution. 

“This is hell,” Varun groaned, “You're a monster for putting me through this.”

“I didn't create the show,” Whit said primly, “And you're the one who insisted on watching it.”

“You tricked me, you son of a bitch,” said Varun, “I hadn't watched anime in years before you tempted me back into it. You're a bad influence.”

Whit gestured magnanimously towards Varun's room, “You're free to go at any time, Varun.”

“True,” Varun rubbed his chin thoughtfully, fingers running through his thick dark beard, “But then I'd be letting you win.”

“Exactly,” Whit grinned. 

They kept watching, Varun doggedly persevering even when Whit teased him about missing his bedtime. But finally he fell back on the couch, digging the heels of his hands into his forehead with a defeated groan. 

“I really gotta go to bed, Bug,” he sighed, “I'm gonna be falling asleep at my desk.”

“Well, if you're wearing a tie, I'm sure they'll let you get away with it,” Whit quipped.

Varun chuckled but dragged himself to his feet, “How much longer until we finish this thing? Ten episodes? Twenty?”

Whit bit his lip, looking up at him mischievously. Varun's eyes narrowed. 

“Bullshit,” he said. 

“It's the next episode,” Whit grinned.

“Fuck off,” said Varun, “It’s not.”

“It is,” Whit laughed.

“Ahhhh,” Varun looked mournfully at the TV, then at the clock, “Fuck, I really have to get to bed. I don’t wanna fuck up my sleep schedule…”

“Then I guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow night,” Whit sighed, feigning sympathy. 

“Yeah, I… oh,” Varun faltered, “I can't do tomorrow night.”

Whit tilted his head, confused, “Why not?”

Varun avoided his eyes, “I, uh, I have something on.”

Whit's brow wrinkled as he tried to figure out what Varun was being so shifty about. Priya was still in the US, and if it was a work thing he would've just said…

Oh. Right.

Fucking hockey practice. 

Whit drew his legs up onto the couch, hunching into a little ball with a scowl, “Well, I'm finishing the season tomorrow night, so you can fucking watch it yourself whenever you can fit it into your busy fucking schedule.”

Varun's shoulders slumped, “Aw, Bug…”

“It's fine,” Whit snapped, staring firmly at the TV, “Go play with your fucking hockey friends. I don't care.”

Whit didn't want to look at Varun, didn't want to see him walk away, see him turning his back on their friendship once again. But after a few seconds, Varun sighed and sat back down. 

“Bug,” he said gently, and then more seriously, “Bug, look at me.”

Whit refused to turn his head, but he flickered his eyes over begrudgingly. Varun looked weary, his sculpted brows creased with concern. 

“I’ve got to go to practice,” he said, “If I drop out, it's gonna kill my reputation at work.”

Whit snorted and turned back to the TV, still frozen at the end of the last episode. Fuck Varun, he should just watch it now. Hopefully Varun would hear it through the walls and have the reveal ruined in his sleep. He picked up the remote, but Varun gently took hold of his wrist before he could hit play.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said. Whit looked up at him warily. “Seriously, tomorrow morning, we get up at like five and fucking finish this thing before work.”

Whit tried to come up with a snarky comeback, but Varun looked so earnest, and his hand was so firm and warm on Whit's wrist. 

“Yeah?” he said. 

“Yeah,” Varun grinned, “Come on, Bug, I'm not waiting another fucking day to find out how this ends. And don't pretend you don't wanna watch it with me.”

“So I can get off on your suffering,” Whit said. He instantly regretted it, but Varun just laughed. “I mean, we could just watch it now.”

“Seriously, first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Whit said. 

“Fuck yeah,” Varun beamed.

He finally released Whit's wrist and headed off to bed. Whit laid back on the couch, rubbing his wrist softly. Varun’s grip hadn't hurt him, but it still felt warm where his hand has been. 

He felt warm all over, actually. He couldn't stop smiling, and he had this funny fluttery feeling in his tummy. 

Varun was putting him first. 

That night, Whit's makeup looked… well, not perfect. But probably good enough. Obviously it still looked silly on him, because he was a man. But if he was a girl, it would look pretty cute. He winked and posed in the mirror, copying one of Sally Softball's poses from the DKS opening. So stupid. He shook his head ruefully, wiped off his makeup and hopped into bed. For a moment his hand dipped reflexively towards his panties, but he stopped himself. There was too much stuff going around his head right now, with the troll, and the makeup, and his slowly rekindling relationship with Varun. Besides, it was more important that he got a good night's sleep. He would jerk off tomorrow, after he defeated the troll once and for all.

His package was due to be delivered tomorrow, too. He was as ready as he would ever be.