Cliche #8, sort of maybe

[dsudis.livejournal.com]

“You were right,” Ray said, pulling on a clean, dry t-shirt, “the bra sucked. Glad to have that thing off.”

Fraser nodded, but said nothing, distracted by the sight of his partner, who looked perfectly normal from the waist up–-aside from his hair being slightly damp, as he’d just washed his face–-and, below the waist, was clad in a black miniskirt, bright red stockings, and rather perilous-looking patent leather platform heels with complicated straps that wound up his ankles.

“You were right about the other thing, too,” Ray added over his shoulder, as he walked to his locker, his hips swaying rather markedly, due, no doubt, to the shoes. “I owe you one for that.”

“The other thing?” Fraser couldn’t help following Ray, and could only hope his distraction would be interpreted as anything other than what it was. Perhaps he was confused as to why Ray was still half in disguise, for example.

“Yeah.” Ray glanced around as though to be sure he wasn’t overheard, though it was three in the morning and they both knew the locker room was deserted. “Y’know. The thigh-highs and garter belt thing. Connell was in pantyhose, and I sat there all night, keeping an eye on him, poor bastard, and I kept thinking about how much I had to thank you for saving me from that.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, in an almost normal voice, as Ray turned away to look through his locker. “You’re quite welcome.” He closed his eyes briefly as he thought of the forms Ray’s gratitude might take, in a perfect world, and when he opened them, Ray was watching him with a bemused smile.

“I just got one more favor to ask you, though, Fraser.”

“Of course, Ray. Anything.”

Ray arched an eyebrow at that, and Fraser tried hard not to betray himself. It was perfectly innocent thing to say. Ray needed something, and Fraser, as a friend, was naturally willing to help. “It’s the shoes,” Ray said after a moment, his eyes never leaving Fraser’s as his cheeks warmed. “I don’t think I can get ‘em off without busting something.”

Fraser clamped down on the helpful suggestion that he take off the miniskirt, and instead gestured gallantly to the bench. Ray made a little abbreviated motion that Fraser suspected was meant to resemble a curtsey, and sat, straddling the bench and splaying his legs out in a thoroughly un-ladylike fashion. Fraser sat down facing him, and picked up one torturously shod foot, but as he propped the heel on his thight, he couldn’t help his eyes following the long line of Ray’s leg up to the spot where it was suddenly quite apparent from the front of the miniskirt that deportment wasn’t the only area in which Ray was un-ladylike.

Ray’s snort brought Fraser’s eyes up to Ray’s face, and he knew his cheeks were serge scarlet. Ray just smiled. “I wasn’t under as a chick, Fraser, I was under as a guy who likes to dress up like a chick. Having a dick wasn’t going to blow my cover.”

Fraser turned his face down, studying the system of straps and buckles imprisoning Ray’s foot, and incidentally catching sight of his own lap, although the sight told him nothing he didn’t already know. “Well, Ray, there are covers and there are covers.”

“Yeah, well,” Ray sounded quite unconcerned, and for a moment, Fraser wondered if he had imagined it all, if Ray had really missed it and he might yet escape this night unscathed. “You’re my partner, and my friend. I don’t mind blowing something with you, that’s not gonna hurt anybody.”

Fraser looked up sharply, and Ray was smiling in a way that made it clear he’d never missed anything, and that there were better outcomes than ‘unscathed’ to hope for.

Ray shifted his foot out of Fraser’s grasp, and settled his toe delicately between Fraser’s thighs. “But first, Benton, buddy, you gotta get me out of these shoes.”

Comments

*sigh*

[persian-slipper.livejournal.com]

Ray in drag. Yummy. If it weren't for the clothes being so hard to put on, I would swear that drag was the most wonderful thing ever (she says as a person who has boy drag (easy) and femme drag (hard)).

Re: *sigh*

[dsudis.livejournal.com]

Oooh, wow. I mean, I like playing dress up, but that's hard core, and I do *not* have the skills for it. That is so cool.