Call me sick, weird, twisted or just plain demented Yes, the title to this is ripped off directly from Due South and there *is* a story behind this idea, which again involves food. (I wonder why that is?) The guys belong to Pet Fly Prod. and I'm just letting them out for air. Oh, and I'm sending this out to both lists because I'm not sure that SXF is fully functional yet. Some Like It Red by R'rain Damn, where *was* that book. When Blair had called from the university, he had sworn up and down that it would be right there on top of his bed, but the damn thing was nowhere to be seen. He rummaged around on the bed, on the floor and on the shelves before finally venturing into the closet. God, what a disaster. He had already brushed aside a pile of sweaters and socks when he found the first shoe. Red, slim, with a 2-inch heel. What the...? Digging a little more he found it's mate and a red sequin dress stuffed in a corner. He picked up the phone and thought about calling him, but then he found the book he was looking for on the floor near the closet and decided that now might be a good time to talk to Blair in person. He tucked the book and the shoes into an army-green knapsack and headed to his vehicle. That boy had a lot of explaining to do--first and foremost why he hadn't mentioned this when he moved in. No, no. First he had to tell Jim what 'this' was. *Then* he would have to explain it. The closer Jim got to the university, the more he wondered whether he should even bring it up at all. Why did it matter? Dammit, it mattered because Blair was his lover, and if he went prancing around in women's clothing Jim thought he had a right to know. His resolve waned again as he approached Blair's office. How the hell did someone bring something like this up? Do you just up and ask, the way Blair had when he suspected that Jim was interested in him in more than a purely platonic way? *That* at least had seemed to work out for the best. Jim couldn't help but smile at the memory of that first night together. No, he *had* to say something, or it would just eat away at him. Blair's face lit up when he saw Jim in his doorway, "Hey," he said, "Did you find it?" "Yeah," said Jim, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. He handed to book over and, taking a deep breath, he pulled the shoe out of his bag, "What's this?" "It's a red pump, Jim, what did you *think* it was?" "I *know* it's a red pump," said Jim, "what I'd like to know is what it was doing in your closet." "That's where I keep all my shoes, Jim." "So you admit that this is your shoe?" Blair sighed, "Yes, it's mine. Do you think we can talk about this some other time, love? I do have a lot of work to do before I come home tonight." "I don't think I can last 'til tonight waiting for an explanation. Why....just why?" Blair closed the book in front of him and took his glasses off, "It's just something I used to do to make a little extra cash, Jim. It's no big deal." "So you don't do it anymore?" Blair laughed and opened the top button of his shirt, "Look at me, man, do you think I could do drag now and not get laughed off the stage? No, after I got my Masters degree I got a bit more money out of the university and didn't need to do it anymore." "So, um, why were they in the pile of shoes that you still wear?" "You know that most of the stuff I wear I keep upstairs now," reasoned Blair, "and besides, " he took the shoe out of Jim's hand and slipped it onto his bare right foot, "they're comfortable shoes." Jim raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He reached forward and caught Blair's heel, slowly moving his hand up to his ankle and caressing it lightly, "You never said anything." "I didn't think I would have to," said Blair, beginning to feel the arousal flowing through his body at Jim's gentle touches, "You know, because it's nothing, really." Jim didn't answer, he was too busy leaning forward to ravish Blair's lips. His hands slowly moved up Blair's leg to brush across his groin, "Um, Jim," whispered Blair, let's not forget where we are." "You know," murmured Jim in his ear, nibbling it as he spoke, "I was a bit freaked when I saw those shoes, but they look a damn sight better on you than the did on your closet floor." He moved back down Blair's body and slid the shoe off his foot, taking each toe in turn and sucking it into his warm moist mouth. Blair moaned aloud and threw his head back, forgetting his earlier protestations. Jim licked and sucked at Blair's foot for a few long, long minutes until his finally took mercy on the younger man and reached up to undo his fly. Blair was rock solid, and Jim took exquisite pleasure in licking up and down his erection, listening to Blair's small sounds of ecstasy. At first he only took the head into his mouth, teasing with his tongue along the slit and making small concise circles around it. Then, just as Blair didn't think he could take any more, he slid it's entire length down his throat and began sucking it in earnest, hollowing his cheeks and using his tongue to masterful effect. Blair bit his hand to keep from crying out and getting the attention of everyone else on his floor. He couldn't help the thrusting of his hips, though, nor the orgasm that slammed into him only a few moments later. As Jim licked him clean, all he could do was sit back in his chair and try and catch his breath. "I think maybe," he said between breaths, "I should have shown you those shoes earlier." Jim grinned as he zipped Blair back up and stepped back. "Hey, wait," said Blair, "what about..." "Let's just say you owe me one, Chief," said Jim, doing up the knapsack and slinging it over his shoulder. He looked at the shoe speculatively, "I don't suppose you have anything in black...?" -end-