Loud and Proud

“It’s like Mr. Doubtfire in here!” It wasn’t the first time Julian had made that joke. He’d seen Nick change in bathroom stalls often enough. Still, it made Nick laugh every time. “Look served, queen,” Julian added. Nick smiled. The irony wasn’t lost on him. A trans man sneaking women’s clothing. It was not actually that unusual in the grand scheme of the world, but he was the only trans person most people in his middle of his nowhere town in Kansas had ever met. Nick always changed when he went out somewhere. He lived with his parents, which wasn’t as bad as most people made it out to be, but it wasn’t always rosy. They were just barely accepting of him being trans, which he knew meant they didn’t really accept it, they were just too polite to openly oppose it. He knew it would just throw a wrench in their process of understanding if he came out of his room looking as femme as he wanted. Every night, he’d apply nail polish after he left the house and every night when he returned, he’d take it off. He had a kit in his glove compartment. He wondered if his parents thought the nail polish smell was to cover up something else, but they never discussed it. So, he dutifully tucked his more traditionally masculine clothes in his bag, fluffed up his hair, and started putting on his high heels. Tonight, he was wearing a low cut, somewhat sheer sequined shirt and the tightest possible pants with a galaxy print on them. He was happy with this look. The white heels were partially to make him feel taller and partially to contrast with the shirt. Julian gave an approving nod.

An older, good looking man came into the bathroom, but Nick barely noticed him. The open door made the music swell. It was too loud for Nick. “Couldn’t we have gone to one of those silent raves where everyone has headphones and can adjust their own volume?”

Julian side-eyed him. “Only one in town is a straight club.”

The bar they were in was new and Nick was not enjoying it. He huffed. “We could go to a straight club! It’s not like they kick gay people out.”

“Dressed like this they might.” Julian was checking himself out in the mirror, striking pose after pose.

After years in the closet, it was nice to have someone who treated him like a gay man, and a queeny one at that. He was one, but not everyone saw him that way in their small town. This was, after all, only the second gay club in their small town. He only wished he liked it more.

He’d been saving to move to the nearest big city, Wichita, hoping it would be better, but something always drained what he saved. Wichita wasn’t even that big or expensive, but he needed enough to get an apartment there and have a healthy safety net. It was just too much right now.

After stowing his bag in his car, Nick returned to the club where it seemed even louder than before, though that was probably not actually true, he thought. But he decided to forgo his annoyance and just dance. He looked for Julian, but found him huddled in a corner with a bear twice their age, so he made his way to the main floor and let loose on his own. He wasn’t really sure if he was a good dancer or not. He wasn’t really sure that such a thing existed for this kind of dancing. Even Gene Kelly couldn’t have looked dignified at a gay club dancing to the latest bubblegum pop song. But he knew there was such a thing as bad dancing and he didn’t think he was doing that. He did better with a partner, but as long as Julian was with the bear, he was flying solo. Or so he thought.

The most beautiful twink Nick had ever seen began dancing nearer and nearer to him. He wasn’t Nick’s normal type, but he sure was gorgeous. The man kept getting closer until they were dancing together.

“Wanna dance?” asked the man.

“Aren’t we already?” Nick replied, which made the man laugh.

“Steve.”

“Nick.”

“You’re gorgeous,” said Steve and Nick blushed. He hoped the lighting masked it and Steve couldn’t see, even as close as they were.

“Thank you. But I only pick up guys at clubs if it’s a well-lit underwear party.” This was mostly true. It was easier that way. In his small town, you just never knew how safe you were. He didn’t have much in the way of sexual experience and even less of the romantic kind.

Steve frowned. “You’re not picking me up, I’m picking you up.” Nick laughed. “Why well-lit underwear parties?”

Nick took a deep breath. “So that the guys can see my scars.” Steve didn’t ask any further questions, so Nick volunteered, “My top surgery scars.”

Steve looked surprised. “You’re trans?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah.” Steve didn’t say anything, but he hadn’t stopped dancing near him. Nick supposed that was promising.

Nick must have looked nervous because Steve said, “You’re gorgeous” again.

He sized Steve up. Steve caught on because he started preening. Steve seemed to be on the level. So, Nick put his arms out in a gesture meant to convey that he wanted to dance together, touching and all, and asked, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” said Steve.

Nick drew him in close and enjoyed the everything of him. The smell, the heat, all of it. He suspected Steve had sucked on a breath mint just before he came over, which he realized was a good sign. Nick was momentarily self conscious that he had not done any such thing, but figured if Steve wanted to kiss him as much as it seemed, they’d be fine.

“You look amazing,” Steve breathed out. “I like my boys femme and you,” he spun them around, “are simply breathtaking.”

Nick was still a little nervous. “At the risk of ruining the moment—“

“So there definitely is a moment here?”

Nick laughed. “There is. But, have you ever been with a trans guy before?”

“No,” Steve admitted. Then he whispered as close to Nick’s ear as he could get, “But I definitely want a taste of you.”

The nerves Nick had dissipated. He was wanted. And he wanted this guy back. He parted his lips and leaned closer to Steve’s mouth. Steve kissed both of his cheeks before finding his mouth. It was intoxicating.

Maybe tonight, he thought, he wouldn’t have to take off his nail polish. And his clothes and shoes and everything he wore. Maybe tonight, he could be himself. The self he wanted to be every day. He’d text his parents in a minute to tell them he was safe but that tonight, he wouldn’t go home.