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“It’s supposed to be a bet,” Rafinha complains from where he’s leaning against the wall. “You could at least be angry.”
Neymar seeks Rafinha’s disappointed eyes in the mirror and smiles cheekily.
“I look great no?” he says, twirling over. The movement causes his skirt to rile up a bit, revealing even more of his beautiful muscled thighs.
Rafinha doesn’t answer but Neymar doesn’t need him too – he knows he looks great.
He focuses back on his own reflection, once again admiring the way he looks. His sister had put some make up on his face – eyeliner and lipstick he thinks. It’s all rather discreet, but it makes his eyes prettier and his lips luscious. The big change though is his outfit – he’s wearing a loose crop top, and a high waist skirt, and white sneakers to complete the look.
He looks pretty damn good, like a sexy tomboy. His legs look long and infinite, and it dawns upon him that if he isn’t a particularly big guy, he’d make a tall girl. It’s a realization.
“What do you think Leo?” he asks, turning towards him. The small man hasn’t said a word ever since Neymar entered the room looking like God itself had blessed earth with his body.
Leo is leaning against a wall, fists shoved into the pockets of his shorts. His features are twisted in a pained grimace – he looks mildly constipated.
“You better not to go out like that,” he mumbles, and Neymar laughs heartily.
“Can you imagine the press?” Geri butts in, a mocking smile splitting his beard. “They’d have a field day.”
Neymar laughs at the thought, mind buzzing with imaginary headlines.
“Maybe they wouldn’t recognize me,” he muses. “Or maybe they’d fall in love with me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at Geri. “I could become the new Grace Kelly!”
Geri throws his head back with laughter.
“There is no world, no planet, no parallel universe, in which you ever become Grace Kelly,” Rafinha deadpans – at least he tries to but he quickly breaks into a smile.
Only Leo doesn’t smile.
“Hey, you ok?” Neymar asks, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He seems to be looking at Neymar’s legs, and Neymar tries to peek over his shoulder to check there’s nothing on his skin. “Something’s wrong with my skirt?” he asks.
“It’s too short,” Leo grumbles, and after a pause, Geri doubles over with laughter. Leo glowers at him. He focuses back on Neymar and motions vaguely with his hands. “You should-- pull it down a bit.”
Neymar spins around to look at Leo directly. He puts a hand on his hips and fakes outrage.
“It’s a high waist skirt!” he says. “It’s supposed to be this short.”
Leo doesn’t seem very convinced. Neymar would ask him if he’s constipated but Gerard chooses this moment to somehow stop laughing.
“It is a bit short,” he says, a gleam in his eyes that usually means trouble. “You don’t have any shame. We can see your underwear every time you turn. Right Leo?” he asks, tilting his head towards the small man with a leer.
Leo scowls, very much looking like he wants to shrink back into himself. Neymar is very concerned.
“About that,” Rafinha interrupts, a frown set on his face. “You can’t be wearing boxer briefs, so please tell me you’re not wearing Y-fronts.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Neymar scoffs. It’s insulting anyone would think he even owned a pair. “I borrowed panties from my sister.”
Rafinha throws him an exasperated and amused look that Neymar gives back in kind.
“This way if I ever drop something--” he turns his back to Leo and Gerard so he can face Rafinha, and mimics dropping a pen. He puts a hand over his mouth in fake shock. “Oh no!” he bemoans. “I dropped my pen, silly me!”
He then bends over, reaching for the invisible pen, his ass up in the air. He feels chilly air on his asscheeks when his skirt rile up over his thigh. It is a bit short.
Before he has the time to stand up straight, he’s startled by the sound of a door slamming, followed by the loud, unmistakable laughter of Gerard.
His eyes dart from the spot Leo seems to have vacated, to the door, to Gerard’s cackling form.
“Was that...?” he asks, blinking with confusion. “Is he sick?”
Gerard nods and keeps laughing.
“It’s constipation isn’t it?” Neymar asks, worrying his lips between his teeth. “I knew it.”
“Yep!” Gerard confirms. “He’s been holding it in for so long. Had to go relieve himself.” He throws his head back with renewed laughter.
“Should we… check up on him, maybe?” he asks. He doesn’t know what Gerard finds funny here, because Neymar for one is worried about Leo. He wants to follow him and make sure he’s alright.
Gerard starts wheezing and Neymar is slightly concerned he’s going to die. Rafinha must be too because he walks over and lazily rubs his back to help him breathe.
Neymar ignores them, looking back towards the door. He counts to three, and when Leo doesn’t magically open the door after that count, decides to go look for him.
He gets weird look from the staff as he sashays through the corridors of the facilities, dolled up like Grace Kelly.
In the end, he doesn’t find Leo in any of the building’s restroom, but he does hear a guy jerking off in a stall.
People these days really have no shame.