Hello all! Ts I again, LLC! Geez, I know what you’re thinking; she’s starting ANOTHER story? What bout Destined to Die, or TTRRH?

Well, never fear! All my stories are still being worked on! But this story struck me, and I had to write it! This idea has been in my head for AGES!

This is a slash story, though I doubt I will have anything explicitly graphic, just cause I’m too bashful to write lemon!...you know, as of yet! ;)

ANYway, this is a serious AU! It takes place in an alternate dimension, where the first born son is the sole heir to a family’s fortune. Any sons born afterwards are raised to act, behave and dress femininely. (the reasoning being to prevent bloody sibling rivalries for inheritance and, in the boy’s case, ascension to the throne.). Chris, of course, is a second born, and Is expected to ct like a lady. But ooooh boy, You can bet that Chris ain’t havin’ none of that! Least, not without his mother threatening him!

IMPORTANT: yes, I know tht some of you will find the idea of Chris being raised to ct like a girl repulsive. The idea of him wearing a dress will make some of your skins crawl. But all I hae to say, id that if you don’t like, don’t read. But if you DO like, then I hope you enjoy!

ANYwho, enough A/N!...well, ONE more:

This story is dedicated to my dear friend, JessieBee185, who’s been a real support through the planning of this story. So this one’s for you, CF!

WARNINGS: slash, minor, cross-dressing, abuse, future Mpreg.

(Chris is 16, Wyatt’s 18

“Christopher, it’s nearly nine o’clock and you STILL aren’t dressed!” Piper exclaimed to her youngest son, as he tried to sneak through the drawing room unnoticed. He had an apple in one hand, and a fistful of cashews in the other.

Swallowing a bite of fruit, he looked down at his clothing, uninterested.

“Sure I am, Mom,” he argued with a shrug and popped a few cashews into his mouth.

Piper eyed her sons garb critically; loose, black wool trousers, a blue tunic, gathered around hi waist with a thin gold cord, and his signature bare feet.

“APPROPRIATELY dressed.” he elaborated, though she knew very well that Chris was just trying to be difficult.

“This is appropriate!” Chris defended indignantly. “I’ve got everything covered! My chest, my legs, my-“

“Christopher!” Piper cut him off, warningly. “People will start arriving in an hour, Chris; do you really want them to see you dressed like that? And don’t you dare say ‘I don’t care!’” she snapped, and Chris closed his mouth, glaring, sulking.

Piper nodded, satisfied. She stepped forward, her silver gown flaring around her, and pried the apple out of her baby’s hand; he’d already finished off the nuts.

“You’ll ruin your appetite,” she said, tossing the half-eaten apple into a rubbish bin. “Now come on; if you hurry, you can still be presentable.” She took Chris’s hand, leading him out of the drawing room and into the corridor, in which the lamps had only recently been lit. They flickered, casting shadows on the cobblestpe walls that semed to move on their own accord.

“Mother!” he whined, sounding a good ten years younger than his age. “I’m a big boy, Mom. You don’t have to hold my hand.”

“If I let go,” Piper said lightly, “You’ll take off running. Am I wrong?” she turned towards Chris to gauge his reaction.

She had a point; Chris would take off running if given the chance. But his mother kept a firm hold on his right hand.

It took several long minutes and two staircases to arrive at Chris’s room. The third floor was all bedrooms; Wyatt’s, Chris’s, their parents, and a half-dozen spares. They were rarely used, though.

Leaning heavily against the solid cherry door, Piper hauled Chris into the bedroom. It was decorated just as a princes’ room should be. Thick, lush carpet, in a midnight blue. Velvet curtains strung in front of stained glass windows, offering a breath taking view of the gardens. His furniture was solid oak, mahogany and cherry, carved ornately with swirls and scallops.

Setting him down on the four-poster bed, Piper made her way briskly to the wardrope cross the room, and began to rummage through it. Moment later, she extracted a grment she found much more suitable for Chris to wear that evening.

“Oh, mo-ther!” he moaned, his shoulders sagging. “Do I really have to wear a dress?”

“Do you really have to ask?” iper countered, laying the gown across the bedspread. Chris glowered at it; she had to choose one of his most hated; scarlet-red velvet, with a high lace collar, cuffs and hem, an unreasonably tight yoke and one too many satin ribbons. He looked like a dern Christmas bauble in that thing!

“Couldn’t you at least choose a nice one?” he wheedled. He was getting nowhere fast.

Piper, who was occupied digging through a chest of drawers, said, “That IS a nice one, Chris it’s one of your best.”

“Bt I look like I should be hung on a pine tree!” he groaned, throwing himself despondently onto his back.

“Christopher, please don’t start,” his mom pleaded, laying a gold sash ns several satin underskirts next to the gown. “I know it’s rather more..poofy…than what you choose to tolerate, but its appropriate for tonight’s dinner.”

“You used to let me go to dinners and balls wearing trousers!” he defended…well, almost pouted, actually.

Piper nodded slowly, sitting down next to her youngest. “Yes, I did. But that was back when you were nine, and it was cute for you to go around wearing boys clothes…”

“I AM a boy!” Chris reasoned, his tone indignant.

“You’re a lady,” Piper countered evenly, then waved her hand as though to shoo away his outburst. “But you aren’t nine anymore, Chris. You’re sixteen, and it’s high time you start acting like it. And that includes dressing like a well-behaved young lady…” she paused, taking a good look at her son, and smiled wryly. “Well, maybe ‘well behaved’ is a bit of a stretch…” she conceded.

Though he wanted to remain brooding and surly, Chris couoldn’t help but smiling a bit. It wasn’t that he was badly behaved ersay. He was just…mischievous, rebellious, especially when it came to what his mother called ‘etiquette’. He knew how to behave, and what was expected of it, and sometimes he didn’t mind doing it; but what fun was it to be obedient all the time? Besides, clothing had been a long-standing battle between Chris and his parents. He could (barely) tolerate a gown or dress when necessary if it was light on frills, but his mother thought he looked “so adorable” in lace and ribbons. And no matter how hard Chris fought against her, she fought harder and longer. (It had taken the better part of a year to at least coax him to wear a gold sash around his waist everyday; traditional for a second-born past the age of consent)

Now,” Piper added briskly, clapping her hands once. “We’re wasting time, sitting here, and a certain someone still needs to get dressed!”

It took over half an hour for Chris to get dressed, not counting the twenty minutes Piper spent trying to get Chris’s unruly hair to lie flat. She failed dismally, to Chris’s satisfaction.

It was ten till nine when Pier finally led Chris (who was muttering threats and obscenities under his breath) out of his room He had caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror before leaving his bedroom, and had started swearing in four different languages. A red-and-gold chicken would look more appealing than him! God, Wyatt was going to have a field day! And speaking of which…

“Oh no!” he groaned, and hurriedly tried t make a b-line back for his room. But it was too late; Wyatt, who had been standing patiently for him at the end of the hall, had already caught site of him, and was barely containing a laugh. Course, he couldn’t hve gotten away anyhow, considering the deathgrip his mother had on his wrist.

“Wyatt!” Pier greeted him cheerfully, smiling. “Perhaps YOU can talk some sense into your brother; doesn’t he look lovely?”

“Of course he does!” he half-lied. Scarlet velvet may not be very flattering, but to Wyatt, Chris could look ravishing in a burlap bag. He stepped forward, took Chris’s hand in his own, and kissed it lightly. He peered back up at Chris, a coy smile playing on his lips and said, “You look amazing, as always.” And he winked.

Piper folded her arms cross her chest, quite self-satisfied. “See, Chris? I told you, you look fine. But do you ever listen? Noo! You just…”her voice faded into echoes as she turned a corner down the stone corridor.

Once she was out of earshot, Wyatt turned back to Chris, his expression having gone right past ‘coy’ and straight to ‘roguish’.

“You really DO look amazing,” he whispered into Chris’s ear, making him blush slightly. Leaning back slightly, he smiled up at his elder brother, obviously impatiently awaiting something.

And he got it. Leaning down slightly due to his height, Wyatt brushed his lips softly against Chris’s. then again, slightly more forceful.

“Wyatt? Chris? Where are you two?”

And in a flash, the two broke apart, Wyatt brushing his hair behind his ears, and Chris trying to look sweet and innocent (as though Piper would be fooled by that)

“Wyatt? Ch..oh, there you are! What are you waiting for? People are already arriving!”

“oh, uh…” Chris stammered, trying to come up with a good excuse. “Um, my…cuffs…came unbuttoned Wyatt was helping me fix them.”

Piper looked at her youngest critically for a moment, before nodding, apparently satisfied, and told them to get a move on.

As soon as she turned the corner, Wyatt rounded on his brother. “your CUFFS came unbuttoned?” he demanded, apparently shocked at Chris’s lying skills. “Didn’t I teach you better than that?” he added with a small smile.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Chris countered, scratching at the lace at his throat.

“You’re just lucky Moms so frazzled about this stte diner, Chris. Any other day and she’s have seen right through you”.

Chris, however, didn’t seem too worried. He simply offered his love calm smile, and slipped his left hand into Wyatt’s right. “So what? It’s not like she’d automatically see through the lie and into ‘us’. She’s got no clue! And even if she did, so what? What’s the worst she could do?”

He had a point; unlike in some of the neighboring providences and countries, a relationship between two brothers was hardly anything note-worthy. A pair of twins Chris had grown up with, in fact, had wed jus last year, and no one so much as blinked an eye.

“What’s the worst she could do?” Wyatt repeated darkly. “Oh let’s see; she could disown me, send you to a convent, marry you off…there’s a LOT she could do, sweetheart.”

Chris sighed in defeat, and nodded. All good points. Just because there was no law preventing them to be together, they were all too aware that Piper and Leo would never allow the to marry. Their country, though beautiful and prosperous, was small, isolated, and had little trade, and marriage to an adjoining country was the best way to expand their influence. Leo had long hinted to Wyatt that the lovely young heiress from cross the valley’s would made a wonderful bride.

Wyatt, of course, had no interest whatsoever in whats-her-name. He had only one person he loved, and he was standing righ before him, his soft hand nestled warmly in his.

“We’ll figure out a way around them Chris.” Wyatt promised. T didn’t matter how many times he repeated those same words, their meaning never faded. He meant it. Wyatt and Chins loved each other more than anything and no matter how may people hey had to deceive and trick, They’d figure out a way round their parents.

“We’d better hurry up, before Mom comes searching for us again,” Chris said quietly, still scratching at his collar.

Wyatt nodded, squeezed Chris’s hand once, and lead him through the passages.

It was one of the few ‘laws’ of etiquette that Chris actually liked; if a second born was not mated or being courted, then his brother would escort him to affairs and public venues. It ws like hiding out in plain site; no one questioned two unwed brother’s holding hands, not even their parents. It was seen simply as the eldest brother wishing to protect his “smaller, weaker” brother (now that part, Chris DID mind!)

“Who’s going t be here tonight anyway?” Chris wondered aloud. He didn’t particularly care, of course. Most of the people who attended the annual state dinner were stuffy old lords or dukes (who annoyed Chris) and their mates, some male, some female, all unnerving to Chris. It made him extremely uncomfortable, to look around the table, between the noblemen, who were talking heatedly and drunkenly, and see their mates sitting there quietly, not speaking unless spoken to, just like Chris. Some looked more than content to just sit there beside their mates, looking pretty. Other’s looked thoroughly miserable, just itching to join in the conversation, or even to change into a more comfortable gown.

“Well, I know the aunts will be there,” Wyatt answered, trying to remember who had been invited again this year, considering last years little incident with the goat in the fountain. “Their husbands and children, of course. The entire Persian royal family, Lord Beringer, Sisk, lord and lady Post…oh, and Sir Jerick,” he added with a grimace.

Chris swore aloud. “That creep? He’s invited AGAIN?”

Wyatt nodded slightly. “He’s invite to everything, you know that. The court all think he’s such a gentleman, especially Mom and Dad.”

“Gentlemen, right. He’s a foul tempered, slimy jerk is what he is!”

“But he puts on a good show,” Wyatt grumbled. “Always has.”

“Please tell me he isn’t going to sit at the head of th table with us?” he half-pleaded.

“Hmm,” Wyatt’s mumbled grudgingly. “I don’t know, but he usually does get a set of honor…”

“How?” burst Chris “How does he do it? I mean I know he’s super rich and all, but he’s not even a lord!”

“He’s manipulative,” Wyatt sighed, squeezing Chris’s hand once for reassurance. Sir Jerick was a creep, like Chris said, and was one of the few people who could scare Chris (not including their mother). He just made Chris very uneasy…

“Sounds like they’ve started without us,” Chris commented uninterestedly, as the sound of violins could be heard, despite the fact that they were several corridors away from the main hall.

Each yer the state dinner was always the same. Boring old coots discussing trade and he economy over dinner, then moving into the parlor (mates in tow) to continue their talks over drinks. Wyatt, being the heir to the throne, was expected to talk to EVERYone, and know about every subject, whilst Chris was expected stay obediently by his side, holding his hand so he didn’t get lost in the crowds, and look pretty until his mother or father deemed that the talk over bloody wars and battles (which Chris actually found terribly interesting) was not appropriate for him, and would send him to sit quietly next to Piper or to bed.

Oh, and he’d have to endure Sir Jerick or some other low-life making comments about his looks to Wyatt or his parents as though he wasn’t standing four feet away! His mother reminded him constantly that his good looks were a blessing, and that so many lords and dukes and even kings had asked for his hand, without having even met him; they bragged on that s if it were a good thing!

Ugh. Every year, the same thing. It wasn’t even a ball, so he wouldn’t even have the consolation of being able to dance with Wyatt.

When Wyatt escorted Chris through the unreasonably large double doors, it was quite obvious that yes, they HAD started without them. Nearly everyone was already seated at the table, and servants were ladling out soup and stew to the guests, being sure to follow the tradition of “ladies first”.

“Mom’s gonna kill us,” hissed Wyatt.

“Yeah, like I don’t already KNOW that?” Chris muttered, scanning the room for familiar faces.

Tobias, a third-born Chris had known since childhood, sat towards the end of the table, his mate of four years seated at his left. Tobias had been lucky. His parents had married him to a man close to his own age ad, unlike many, was lenient with Toby, treating him as an equal, rather like Wyatt. As he got closer to the table, he picked out Lyra amongst the crowd, a timid, mousy girl of 17. She hadn’t been so lucky with her own mate.

“Oh, dang it. There’s Jerick!” Chris swore, spotting the man just one seat away from he end of the table, at which his parents sat together. The two seats right next to them, round te bend of the table, were empty, as Wyatt and Chris had taken their sweet time arriving.

“And it looks like he’s sat right next to you,” Wyatt sighed, noting that Jerick was, indeed, seated by the empty seat o his mother’s left, which was for Chris.

The youngest Halliwell looked as though he wanted to vomit right then and there...preferably on the hem of his dress, if he could manage it. He looked up at his brother, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. “What did I do to the gods to make them so ticked off at me? I musta been some sort of serial killer in another life!”

As they arrived at the table, they were all too aware of the dozens of people watching them, muttering about punctuality and tardiness amongst today’s youth. Chris just glared at them.

Under the reproachful eye of his mother, Wyatt pulled Chris’s chair out for him, and helped him sit. (“Who on earth needs help sitting down!” Chris had demanded loudly at the last formal affair. And as hilarious as the looks on everyone’s faces had been Wyatt hoped for Chris’s sake that he’d just sit without argument. Leo had made sure Chris really COULDN’T sit down for a week after that). Once he was sure Chris wasn’t going to hurl a water glass at him (he still had scars) he quickly rounded the table and sat opposite his brother, on his father’s right.

“Ah, good evening, Your Highness,” Jerick murmured with exaggerated sweetness, his voice dripping with saccharine. “You look amazing, as always.”

Chris blanched, and stiffened. What a jerk! What nerve! Wyatt had told him the same thing only minutes ago, and this pig thought he could just mimic that!

Chris had a whole long list of retorts for Jerick, but with his mother sitting right next to him, he just settled for a disdainful “Hmf”.

The dinner continued rather uneventfully. Wyatt conversed politely with Lord Kinyon to his right about the recent floods near the river. To Chris’s immense relief, Jerick was occupied between arguing with the duke across the table, and ogling over his mate. Chris, meanwhile, just sat quietly n tried to enjoy his meal. It was about the only thing to look forward to during the state dinner. Chicken an rice soup, roast lamb, potatoes, steamed carrots in butter, fried salmon and trout…and desert! Chris had an insatiable sweet toot, and Wyatt knew it. Whenever Wyatt had to leave home for any amount of time, he always made sure to bring him back chocolates, or candied cherries, or a jar of honey. Nothing tasted sweeter to Chris than Wyatt’s gifts to him, not even the strawberry mouse he’d been served.

Chris was just about to believe that he could get through this dinner without much trouble, when Sir Jerick suddenly leaned close to him (well, almost over him) to speak to his mother.

“Your majesty,” he began, his voice greasily slick. “Forgive me for being so forward, but you son becomes more and more beautiful every year.”

Turning beat-red, nearly matching his dress, Chris slumped down in his seat, wishing he could crawl in a hole. He was seriously considering sneaking under the table when he felt a sharp smack on his wrist. Looking up, he saw his mm glowering at him.

“Sit like a lady!” she snapped, looking positively devilish.

Now in a sour humor, Chris groaned inwardly and sat back up, his hnds in his lap, scowling.

Across the table, Wyatt is barely containing his laughter behind a glass of red wine. Lowering the stemware, he did a perfect imitation of their mother by mouthing ‘Sit like a lady!’ back at Chris.

“Bite me!” Chris hissed loudly at his elder brother, earning himself yet another smack from Piper.

“Good God, why me?”

An hour later found Chris standing bored out of his mind next to Wyatt. He was actually PRAYING for Mom or Dad o send for him. As much as he loved his brother, and cherished any moment they could spend together, he would give anything to be able to make an escape. Actually…

“Wyatt?” he interjected loudly, to the shock of the stuffed shirts talking to him. A second born, interrupting his elders and betters? A scandal! A travesty! Chris had heard it all before.

But Wyatt just smiled at his love warmly, and prompted, “Yes?”

“I’m not feeling well at all, Wyatt,” he whined melodramatically, for the benfit of the cranky lords waiting impatiently. They expected Chris to be a weakling. “May I be excused to go lie down?” he punctuated his question with a mischievous wink, doubling as an “invitation” for later.

“Of course.” Wyatt answered, looking like he wished he could pull the same stunt and ditch. Which he probably would, later.

Muttering a quick “Thank God” (and none to quietly) Chris practically sprinted from the room.

As soon as the double doors closed behind him, Chris began undoing cuffs and ties and ribbons, sighing happily at being able to feel his wrists again. Stumbling up the stairs with one shoe on, he began unknotting his sash, throwing it over one shoulder, and reaching behind him at n awkward angle to begin undoing the tiny gold buttons running the length of his gown.

When he finally reached his room, he was already half-undressed; oh, if only his mother could see him now!

Wriggling out of the dress, he discarded the hated garment over a chair, and began rummaging through his dresser. He found a pair of white pajama pants, ad pulled them on. They were loose and comfortable, and sat low on his hips. Needless to say, Wyatt loved them.

“Ugh. SO much better!” Chris mumbled to himself. Wyatt would be up soon, he knew, but it could be a while before he could sneak away.

A fire was burning steadily in the hearth, filling the room with a comforting warmth against the bitter March air blowing outside his windows. Crossing the room, he stretched out on a sofa in front of the fireplace, deciding to just rest his eyes for a while before Wyatt got here. The couch was large with soft cushions and an abundance of pillows, and he flames provided enough warmth to forgo a blanket. ‘I won’t go to sleep,’ Chris told himself, his eyes half closed. ‘just gonna lay here a while…’

“Wake up sleeping beauty! Nd I do mean ‘beauty’.”

Chris awoke with start, his snapping open in surrise. “Wasgoinon?” he mumbled, still half out of it.

“Good morning to you too, baby.” Wyatt chuckled. Chris loved Wyatts’s laugh; deeps and rumbly.

“How long’ve I been out?” he asked, stretching his long arms high over his head, showing the lean muscles in his torso off to it’s best view. A fact that Wyatt could hardly miss.

Bringing his arms down, Chris murmured contentedly and moved across the couch nd into Wyatt’s waiting arms. “Hope you haven’t just been letting me sleep.”

“No, actually, I was just able to get away, he replied, running his hands slowly through Chris’s thick, dark hair. “Nearly everyone’s left, and the only ones still here are speaking to Mom and Dad.”

“Hmmm…” Chris nearly purred, not really caring about the guests. He loved times like these, when he and Wyatt could just be together alone for a while. Though Chris and Wyatt loved each other like crazy, they had never….Chris just wasn’t ready, and Wyatt wasn’t even about to push him. Both were more than pleased to just sit in front of the syin firelight, holding one another. It was so cozy, listening to the wind whip through the trees outside, while they sit so warm and comfortable in each other’s arms.

“Hey, Chris?” Wyatt spoke up suddenly, his hands finally leaving Chris’s hair with some reluctance.

“Yeah?” Chris asked, propping himself up on one elbow, looking up at his brother. Even through curiosity, he couldn’t help but think he looked heaven-sent, the warm glow from the fire dancing off his wild blonde curls.

He smiled coyly, and whispered, “I have something for you, Chris.”

Now fully interested (as though he wasn’t before) Chris sat up on his knees, eye level with his brother, his head cocked adorably to one side, his long hair tumbling lightly into his eyes. “Really? What?”

Wyatt slipped his hand into the deep pockets of his dinner coat, and extracted a tiny green box, covered in velvet. Glancing up at Chris, he made sure he had his full attention, and opened the box for him. Inside, nestled on a tiny fluff of cotton, was a gold ring, adorned with one blazing green emerald in the center, with a cluster of diamonds on each side.

All the breath rushed out of Chris’s lungs. Usually Wyatt’s gifts were sweets, or cakes, rarey jewelry; he hardly wore it. But Chris was not an idiot; he knew full well that this ring wasn’t just a pretty piece of metal. Looking directly up at Wyatt for confirmation, he was sure his eyes were round as coins.

Wyatt just laughed softly once ore, and took Chris’s left hand in his.

“I told you, Chris,” he began. “That we would find a way to be together. No mater what it takes Chris.” He reached into the box and gently pulled he ring from the box. He slipped the ring onto Chris’s finger; it fit perfectly.

“I’d never break a promise to you, baby. You know that.” He continued, beaming down t Chris, who had gone very quiet, look down at the ring n his finger. Lovingly, Wyatt hooked a finger under his chin, tipping his face up to look at him. He was positively glowing. Wyatt had always told him he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Chris, and Chris with Wyatt. But seeing that ring n his finger, given to him by the one man he loved, seemed to make it all the more real…

“Just think of it as a reminder of m promise.” He finished quietly. They just sat looking at each other for a moment, before Chris threw abandon to the wind, ad leaned forward, pressing his ips warmly against Wyatts, wrapping his arms round his neck.

“I love you so much, Wyatt.” He whispered after they broke apart, still not letting go of his brother.

“I love you too Chris,” Wyatt returned. “More than you can ever know”

I don’t know about t y’all, but for me, first chapters are the hardest to write, what with having to set up the scene and background However, I myself a very happy with this chater! One of my better first chapters, if I do say so myself!

Chris and Wyatt are registering wedding gifts at WalMart. Top of their list? REVIEWS!

Lottsa love,

LLC