Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2009-05-05 08:55 am
ptahrrific) wrote2009-05-05 08:55 am
Entry tags:
Fake News: These Boots Were Made For Strutting
Title: These Boots Were Made For Strutting
Series: TDS/TCR
Characters/Pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: See the index.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
punkishgrin, who wanted something with this picture.
These Boots Were Made For Strutting
Jon caught his breath as the door opened.
Stephen leaned languidly against the frame. His powder-blue collar and cuffs were crisp; his dark suit jacket flowed smoothly across his angles; his tie was knotted with today-we-secure-the-global-market precision. Even his trousers were neatly pleated, in spite of cutting off at mid-thigh.
Which made it all the more striking that the rest of each leg was hugged by skintight red leather, the definition of the muscles drawn out by the three-inch heels.
Jon was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open. (And that Stephen was now, like, a foot taller than he was.)
"You like what you see, Mr. Stewart?" purred Stephen.
"Y-yeah," breathed Jon, rough and scratchy. "C'mere."
Pushing himself away from the door one-handed, Stephen strutted across the bedroom.
Or at least, most of the bedroom. When he was three steps from Jon, he landed wrong on one of the heels, wobbled like a jello mold, and toppled in an awkward pile of suit and leather into Jon's arms. Jon let out a yelp as one of Stephen's feet (not the heel, mercifully) landed on his bare toes as they fell back onto the mattress.
"Okay," stammered Stephen at last, his voice back in its normal register and just a little shaky, "a rare correction: I do not, in fact, walk in these boots like I was born in them."
"Duly noted," said Jon, rubbing his foot. Nothing broken, no pain that wasn't already fading. He'd be all right. "What say we get you out of them, then?"
Series: TDS/TCR
Characters/Pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: See the index.
For
punkishgrin, who wanted something with this picture.
These Boots Were Made For Strutting
Jon caught his breath as the door opened.
Stephen leaned languidly against the frame. His powder-blue collar and cuffs were crisp; his dark suit jacket flowed smoothly across his angles; his tie was knotted with today-we-secure-the-global-market precision. Even his trousers were neatly pleated, in spite of cutting off at mid-thigh.
Which made it all the more striking that the rest of each leg was hugged by skintight red leather, the definition of the muscles drawn out by the three-inch heels.
Jon was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open. (And that Stephen was now, like, a foot taller than he was.)
"You like what you see, Mr. Stewart?" purred Stephen.
"Y-yeah," breathed Jon, rough and scratchy. "C'mere."
Pushing himself away from the door one-handed, Stephen strutted across the bedroom.
Or at least, most of the bedroom. When he was three steps from Jon, he landed wrong on one of the heels, wobbled like a jello mold, and toppled in an awkward pile of suit and leather into Jon's arms. Jon let out a yelp as one of Stephen's feet (not the heel, mercifully) landed on his bare toes as they fell back onto the mattress.
"Okay," stammered Stephen at last, his voice back in its normal register and just a little shaky, "a rare correction: I do not, in fact, walk in these boots like I was born in them."
"Duly noted," said Jon, rubbing his foot. Nothing broken, no pain that wasn't already fading. He'd be all right. "What say we get you out of them, then?"
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But Stephen does have the legs for those boots, yum!
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And the idea of Stephen in those boots is HOT! *goes to her happy place*
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"Stephen" + kinky boots.
Oh.
Why is there not more of this?