Kurt slumped on the couch, phone still glowing with the breakup text. "She left me for some gym rat, Logan. Said I was too 'predictable.'" His stepbrother, nineteen and lounging opposite with that impossible wide-hipped frame, smirked. "Predictable? You? Make the bitch jealous then. Hit the club tonight with someone who'll make her choke on her latte."
Kurt's gaze sharpened, drifting to Logan's fat, perfect booty straining his sweats. "You. Dress like a girl. Wig, makeup, something tight on that ass. No one will know it's you. We'll grind right in front of her."
Logan arched a brow, strong and unyielding. "I'm straight as hell, Kurt. Stepbrothers playing dress-up? That's your genius plan? My booty might be legendary, but I'm not your puppet."
"Come on," Kurt shot back, witty and sharp. "You've got the goods. Crop top, leggings that hug every curve. She'll see me with a 'girl' who puts her to shame. You'll love the attention."
Logan hesitated, then grinned wickedly. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, you're buying the drinks. And no touching unless I say." He vanished, returning transformed: wig cascading, makeup sharp, crop top riding up, thin leggings painted over that fattest, sexiest booty. Kurt's cock twitched hard at the sight.
"Fuck, Logan... you look edible. That ass is dripping temptation." Logan twirled, strong and confident. "Jealous yet? Feel how wet this look makes you?" They laughed, tension crackling, both suddenly horny as Kurt's ex flashed in his mind. The air thickened with panting anticipation, leading them closer before the club lights even hit.
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