Fic: 'Dressing Up' Hugo, R
Title - Dressing Up
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - micolerose
Rating - R
Word Count - ~1,400
Characters/Pairings - Hugo, Highlight for spoiler pairing *Hugo/Harry*
Warnings/Kinks - Pre-Slash, Cross-Dressing,
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Hugo has always enjoyed dressing up, and a certain dress is just too hard to resist
Author's Notes - Told using the prompt Cross Dressing (Outerwear) from my kink_bingo claim card, which can be found here.
When they were children, they'd often broken into their parents' room and attacked the wardrobe, playing dress up with the fancy clothes there. Hugo remembered the first time they had done it, him in one of his Mum's blue everyday dresses and Rosie in a green silk dress that was only for special occasions. Luckily, they were young and innocent and the incident hadn't been punished, but was regularly brought up at family dos to embarrass him and Rosie.
Rosie had grown up and got her own dresses to wear, and though she didn't call it playing dress up anymore, Hugo failed to see how trying on every item of clothing she owned before she settled on a piece to wear was any different to the games they'd played as children. And Hugo had grown up too. He hadn't thought about those childish escapades in years, but recently it had all come back to him. Hugo had always preferred his mother's dresses to his father's robes, and no one had ever told him he shouldn't; his mother too liberal and his father too amused to tell a six year old to get out of the dresses and put on some trousers.
He could pinpoint the exact moment when he'd felt that urge again, that desire to play. His boss had sent him out to pick up some dry cleaning, and as Hugo had been hanging it on the clock stand in the office, the protective cover had slid off one of the long, expensive dresses. Hugo had been transfixed by the garment. Peacock blue and shimmering, the long silk fell down to the floor, cutaway at the back and modest at the front. He'd seen it on its owner, admired the way it hung, delicate straps holding the entire thing on pale, creamy shoulders.
As he'd slipped the dress back into the cover, the silk cool against his hands, Hugo had wondered how it felt to wear something so beautiful. His work robes were practical, boring, and his dress robes were the same. There was nothing for him to wear that was as stunning as the dresses that his sister wore, that his friends wore, that his boss' wife wore.
That was six months ago, and Hugo hadn't been able to get it out of his head. He'd taken the risk of going into a Muggle shop, discreetly holding a pair of knickers against his waist to try and gauge a size. He'd ended up buying the same pair of green lace knickers in three different sizes, and had flushed beetroot as the cashier rung them up, clearly thinking he was either insane, or juggling multiple women at once. It meant he couldn't get changed at work anymore, but as his collection grew thanks to catalogues and trips into Muggle London, Hugo'd had a reason to smile at work every day for weeks now.
Back at home, in his secluded apartment, Hugo had gone even further. He had satin nighties and camisoles, tucked away in the same drawer as his toys and magazines.
But something was still missing.
Hugo couldn't put his finger on what it was until he was sent out again to collect dry cleaning and run the errands that his busy boss didn't have time for. The silk dress was there again, this time worn for a charity event. Credit to the cleaners - they'd got every trace of red wine out of the silk. Hugo knew he shouldn't even have taken the dress from the protective covering, but for some reason, in the quiet office, he'd done it anyway. Working late gave him the run of the floor, made him feel confident to pour over the dress and hold it up against his front, viewing himself critically in the mirror on the back of the door, safe in the knowledge he was all alone.
Hugo couldn't explain exactly what it was that was drawing him to the dress, to any of the clothes if he was honest. Whether it was the desire to be pretty, or to break some unstated gender norm. Whether it was a fetish, or a kink, or a transient phase. He supposed it didn't really matter.
Hugo knew he shouldn't even be thinking about this, but somehow he couldn't stop his fingers reaching for his robes and undoing the clasps. He was only going to try it on - a few minutes, and he'd be careful. Once he'd made that decision, his own clothes seemed to melt off him, heaping on the floor and leaving him in nothing but the lacy knickers he worked so hard to conceal at all other times. Hugo was lucky he was slight for a man, and that the dress' owner was experiencing some middle-age spread - the dress would fit him.
Holding it over his head, Hugo straightened his arms and let go of the hem, keeping the straps hooked over his thumbs as he let gravity pull the dress down his body. It slipped on like a dream, the hem swishing around his legs at mid-calf once he'd let the straps drop onto his shoulders. Hugo did the zip up with a wave of his wand and smoothed his hands down his front, peering down his body in awe. This felt nothing like dressing up, or playing games. This felt perfect - cool and smooth and sensual in a way his own robes could never, ever achieve.
Turning around to face the mirror, Hugo stared at himself in awe. The blue suited his fair complexion, and his russet hair didn't clash with it too badly either. The dress gaped a little around his chest, which was hardly surprising. But it was the slight bulge out at his groin that Hugo was transfixed by. It made him feel powerful, this illicit secret he had, this sight of himself that was his alone, and that translated smoothly into arousal. Hugo knew he should take the dress off - his few minutes were up, and he didn't want to send the dress back to its owner creased out of shape by his stiffening prick.
But for some reason, he couldn't make his hands flick in the necessary way to unzip the back of the dress. A few steps, just to see how it felt to move in the dress, wouldn't hurt anyone. Even the building approved of his appearance, creaking gently as it settled into place for the night. As he walked away, Hugo watched himself over his shoulder, over-exaggerating the movement of his hips to watch his arse move under the silk.
Spinning his head forwards, Hugo took a few more steps, confident in himself. He let his wand hand fall to his side, dropping his guard for a minute. But that was all it took, and the surprise that jolted through Hugo like a lightning bolt when he heard the door open blanked his mind. Hugo forgot all about spells or charms, able to do nothing but spin around in horror, gaping at his boss.
Harry gaped right back at him.
Hugo's entire body felt like it was on fire, he was that embarrassed, and though he opened his mouth, it took long moments of gaping like a fish out of water before he could make any sounds. "I... I... please don't tell."
All of a sudden he was five years old again, caught by Uncle Harry misbehaving, and desperately hoping his Uncle Harry would keep his secret.
Harry looked stunned, and seemed to be having the same trouble speaking as Hugo had. His eyes were wide and shiny, and Hugo's shame increased as he wondered if he had offended his Uncle to the point of tears.
"I won't. Hugo, of course I won't. I... this..."
"I'll take it off," Hugo rushed, walking back over to his clothes with his wand already flicking, lowering the zip. "I'm so sorry, I'll take it off, and I'll leave if you want me to, I just wanted to try it, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry, I'll take it off now."
Hugo was so busy trying to get out of the dress - and how much harder that was than slipping it on, how much harder to get out of this mess than it had been to get into it - that he didn't register Harry's words the first time, only catching them the second time around.
"Hugo. You can leave it on."
Dressing Down
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - micolerose
Rating - R
Word Count - ~1,400
Characters/Pairings - Hugo, Highlight for spoiler pairing *Hugo/Harry*
Warnings/Kinks - Pre-Slash, Cross-Dressing,
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Hugo has always enjoyed dressing up, and a certain dress is just too hard to resist
Author's Notes - Told using the prompt Cross Dressing (Outerwear) from my kink_bingo claim card, which can be found here.
When they were children, they'd often broken into their parents' room and attacked the wardrobe, playing dress up with the fancy clothes there. Hugo remembered the first time they had done it, him in one of his Mum's blue everyday dresses and Rosie in a green silk dress that was only for special occasions. Luckily, they were young and innocent and the incident hadn't been punished, but was regularly brought up at family dos to embarrass him and Rosie.
Rosie had grown up and got her own dresses to wear, and though she didn't call it playing dress up anymore, Hugo failed to see how trying on every item of clothing she owned before she settled on a piece to wear was any different to the games they'd played as children. And Hugo had grown up too. He hadn't thought about those childish escapades in years, but recently it had all come back to him. Hugo had always preferred his mother's dresses to his father's robes, and no one had ever told him he shouldn't; his mother too liberal and his father too amused to tell a six year old to get out of the dresses and put on some trousers.
He could pinpoint the exact moment when he'd felt that urge again, that desire to play. His boss had sent him out to pick up some dry cleaning, and as Hugo had been hanging it on the clock stand in the office, the protective cover had slid off one of the long, expensive dresses. Hugo had been transfixed by the garment. Peacock blue and shimmering, the long silk fell down to the floor, cutaway at the back and modest at the front. He'd seen it on its owner, admired the way it hung, delicate straps holding the entire thing on pale, creamy shoulders.
As he'd slipped the dress back into the cover, the silk cool against his hands, Hugo had wondered how it felt to wear something so beautiful. His work robes were practical, boring, and his dress robes were the same. There was nothing for him to wear that was as stunning as the dresses that his sister wore, that his friends wore, that his boss' wife wore.
That was six months ago, and Hugo hadn't been able to get it out of his head. He'd taken the risk of going into a Muggle shop, discreetly holding a pair of knickers against his waist to try and gauge a size. He'd ended up buying the same pair of green lace knickers in three different sizes, and had flushed beetroot as the cashier rung them up, clearly thinking he was either insane, or juggling multiple women at once. It meant he couldn't get changed at work anymore, but as his collection grew thanks to catalogues and trips into Muggle London, Hugo'd had a reason to smile at work every day for weeks now.
Back at home, in his secluded apartment, Hugo had gone even further. He had satin nighties and camisoles, tucked away in the same drawer as his toys and magazines.
But something was still missing.
Hugo couldn't put his finger on what it was until he was sent out again to collect dry cleaning and run the errands that his busy boss didn't have time for. The silk dress was there again, this time worn for a charity event. Credit to the cleaners - they'd got every trace of red wine out of the silk. Hugo knew he shouldn't even have taken the dress from the protective covering, but for some reason, in the quiet office, he'd done it anyway. Working late gave him the run of the floor, made him feel confident to pour over the dress and hold it up against his front, viewing himself critically in the mirror on the back of the door, safe in the knowledge he was all alone.
Hugo couldn't explain exactly what it was that was drawing him to the dress, to any of the clothes if he was honest. Whether it was the desire to be pretty, or to break some unstated gender norm. Whether it was a fetish, or a kink, or a transient phase. He supposed it didn't really matter.
Hugo knew he shouldn't even be thinking about this, but somehow he couldn't stop his fingers reaching for his robes and undoing the clasps. He was only going to try it on - a few minutes, and he'd be careful. Once he'd made that decision, his own clothes seemed to melt off him, heaping on the floor and leaving him in nothing but the lacy knickers he worked so hard to conceal at all other times. Hugo was lucky he was slight for a man, and that the dress' owner was experiencing some middle-age spread - the dress would fit him.
Holding it over his head, Hugo straightened his arms and let go of the hem, keeping the straps hooked over his thumbs as he let gravity pull the dress down his body. It slipped on like a dream, the hem swishing around his legs at mid-calf once he'd let the straps drop onto his shoulders. Hugo did the zip up with a wave of his wand and smoothed his hands down his front, peering down his body in awe. This felt nothing like dressing up, or playing games. This felt perfect - cool and smooth and sensual in a way his own robes could never, ever achieve.
Turning around to face the mirror, Hugo stared at himself in awe. The blue suited his fair complexion, and his russet hair didn't clash with it too badly either. The dress gaped a little around his chest, which was hardly surprising. But it was the slight bulge out at his groin that Hugo was transfixed by. It made him feel powerful, this illicit secret he had, this sight of himself that was his alone, and that translated smoothly into arousal. Hugo knew he should take the dress off - his few minutes were up, and he didn't want to send the dress back to its owner creased out of shape by his stiffening prick.
But for some reason, he couldn't make his hands flick in the necessary way to unzip the back of the dress. A few steps, just to see how it felt to move in the dress, wouldn't hurt anyone. Even the building approved of his appearance, creaking gently as it settled into place for the night. As he walked away, Hugo watched himself over his shoulder, over-exaggerating the movement of his hips to watch his arse move under the silk.
Spinning his head forwards, Hugo took a few more steps, confident in himself. He let his wand hand fall to his side, dropping his guard for a minute. But that was all it took, and the surprise that jolted through Hugo like a lightning bolt when he heard the door open blanked his mind. Hugo forgot all about spells or charms, able to do nothing but spin around in horror, gaping at his boss.
Harry gaped right back at him.
Hugo's entire body felt like it was on fire, he was that embarrassed, and though he opened his mouth, it took long moments of gaping like a fish out of water before he could make any sounds. "I... I... please don't tell."
All of a sudden he was five years old again, caught by Uncle Harry misbehaving, and desperately hoping his Uncle Harry would keep his secret.
Harry looked stunned, and seemed to be having the same trouble speaking as Hugo had. His eyes were wide and shiny, and Hugo's shame increased as he wondered if he had offended his Uncle to the point of tears.
"I won't. Hugo, of course I won't. I... this..."
"I'll take it off," Hugo rushed, walking back over to his clothes with his wand already flicking, lowering the zip. "I'm so sorry, I'll take it off, and I'll leave if you want me to, I just wanted to try it, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry, I'll take it off now."
Hugo was so busy trying to get out of the dress - and how much harder that was than slipping it on, how much harder to get out of this mess than it had been to get into it - that he didn't register Harry's words the first time, only catching them the second time around.
"Hugo. You can leave it on."
Dressing Down