Title: Kinks #7

Author: Merri-Todd Webster

Category: Plot What Plot, Humor

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: m/m

Pairing: J/B

Summary: Costume kink.

This story is a sequel to Kinks #6.

by Merri-Todd Webster

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

"But you look great, Jim!"

Jim scowled into the mirror and tried to convince himself that he was not, in fact, red in the face with embarassment. His attempt did not succeed. He was red in the face, and he had good reason, in his own opinion. Wearing any kind of costume was sufficient reason to be uptight. Dressing up like Robin Hood's best buddy, Little John, was grounds for hanging his head in shame.

Still, the vest was really pretty good-looking.

Thigh-length green tunic over nothing but green tights (sheesh), topped off with the hip-length brown suede vest that laced across the chest and the appropriate jaunty cap (sporting a brown feather with white spots). Blair had talked him into buying the "quarterstaff" only by pointing out that it was actually a hiking staff and a real boost on a long hike, and Blair had one already, and weren't they going camping in a few weeks...?

The spandex-blend tights caressed his skin like a million happy little fingers. He was already getting a hard one before he even got a good look at Blair.

Same basic costume, with two significant differences: one, the feather in Blair's cap was bright blue, bluejay-blue, and his tunic and tights were scarlet.

Will Scarlet.

Jim observed the way the suede laces strained across his lover's broad chest. The way the feather nodded above unbound curls. The way the muscles in his arms bunched as he leaned on his staff and looked into the mirror, side by side with Jim. The way he was grinning.

All it took was that grin.

Blair, for his part, noted the way green spandex flowed over the sculpture of buttock and thigh, the way Jim's biceps responded as he leaned on the hiking staff, the adorable way Jim's blush played up the icy blue of his eyes.

All it took was those eyes.

Eyes that were walking over his skin like curious little laser beams, seeking out any kind of exposure--a tuft of chest hair above the tunic, a telltale bulge poking out from beneath his tunic and jerkin.

Yeah, there'd probably be some jerkin' goin' on....

Grinning even more broadly at his awful pun, Blair straightened up and socked Jim lightly on the arm. "Let's get started, then."

Jim followed his lover downstairs. The furniture had already been moved out of the way, and a cozy "bower" had been formed of their sleeping bags (and some pine branches, for verisimilitude) over by the fireplace. Blair pranced out into the middle of the room, whirled around, and raised his quarterstaff into fighting position.

"Aho! Aha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Thrust! Doink!!" Blair mimed a series of moves against an invisible opponent that climaxed with slamming himself in the face with the quarterstaff. This boy has watched too many cartoons, Jim thought.

"You're not doin' real good there, Chief."

Blair lowered the quarterstaff, frowning. "I thought you were at least going to give the appropriate language a try, Jim."

Jim felt his face get hot all over again. Anything for Sandburg.... He cleared his throat. "Methinks thou art not so good at that, young knave."

Blair flashed him a grin before pasting on an insulted expression. "Dost think that thou can do better, then, fair stranger?"

Jim moved in on the younger man, rummaging in his mind for the stilted phrases of the Howard Pyle Robin Hood book he'd read so long ago. It was so easy for Blair.... "Marry, that I do." That sounded right.

"Have at thee, then!"

Blair surprised him completely by striking a quick blow that knocked the quarterstaff almost out of his hand and made him stumble.

"One for me!" Blair crowed, startled into anachronism.

"Why, y--I mean, thou!"

Jim swung the staff up, catching the free end easily and pushing it forward to thunk solidly against the center of Blair's staff.

"Hey, man--"

Jim pushed and Blair gave ground. "Thou talkest strangely, sirrah." He grinned--this medieval talk was easy once you got the hang of it. And nothing was as much fun as getting Blair off his balance, literally and not.

"Oh, yeah--I mean, pox on thee!"

The next few minutes were a flurry of loud, showy blows, wood against wood. Jim noticed that Blair was not totally clueless, here--he had obviously learned to use a staff for basic self-defense, although of course he hadn't trained as much as Jim had. Like Xena and Gabby, Jim thought, and grinned harder. He had riled Blair a little bit, and he gave ground now before his partner's increasingly angry blows, waiting for the right moment. There--in a sequence he felt rather than thought, he parried, thrust, tossed aside Blair's staff, and caught his lover by the wrist to haul him in, chest against chest, Blair's arm behind his back.

"Wilt thou admit defeat, pretty knave?"

"Never!"

Jim dropped his staff as neatly as Mike McGwire drops his bat and launched a full-scale sensual assault on his lover: two-armed hug, one hand twining into thick brown hair, open-mouthed kiss with lots of tongue. Blair immediately did that wonderful limp/stiff thing he did, turning almost liquid in Jim's grasp except for the fierce grasp of his arms across Jim's back and the searing hardness of his cock against Jim's thigh.

The next thing Jim was aware of, the two of them were lying on top of the sleeping bag, and Blair's hand was exploring his cock and balls through the clinging spandex while his tongue explored Jim's neck. Oh, Jesus, Jim thought, I can't come in these tights, they're rented, never get the stains out-- He noticed that Blair's other hand had started to undo the laces of his vest, and that seemed like a good idea, so he started doing the same for Blair.

Once the laces were undone, the overlapping sides of the tunic fell open, and Blair was able to run his hand over sleek, sweaty skin, to tweak The Most Sensitive Nipples He'd Ever Encountered, to feel Jim's happy groan resonate beneath his fingers. He busied himself with those nipples while Jim's eager hands, clumsy with desire, unlaced his jerkin and peeled it right off, uncovering his chest so Jim could nuzzle there.

More nuzzling, more tweaking, bare chests and bare arms, and then Jim got his fingers inside the waistband of Blair's tights. His own tights were sticking to him like a second skin, hot and wet, he hoped Blair would, oh, good, yeah, he was.... The tights whispered their way down Blair's thighs, down Jim's, and Jim put his hand into swampy heat, groaning as the scent hit him. Blair was hard and hot and sweating underneath the tights, the smell of him was even stronger than usual, Jim's head swam, and as Blair stripped him, his own smell affected him, which it usually didn't--

Blair groaned and fell back, arms spread, limp/stiff again, as Jim swallowed him whole. Jim's lips were brushing Blair's pubic hair, the head of Blair's cock pressed firmly to the back of his throat, and Blair squirmed beseechingly until Jim showed mercy and pulled the tights all the way down, out of the way, so Blair could spread himself and thrust, thrust....

Jim eased a finger between the cheeks of Blair's ass and found slick wetness. He did it again, he thought. He pressed in, exploring, and found Blair as smooth and relaxed as he expected--he'd gotten himself ready to be fucked while he was dressing. I know what you want, he thought, tightening his mouth around his lover's cock. Up and down, up and down, up and flick his tongue there, right behind the head--

Blair was still yowling with his orgasm when Jim sank into him, shaking his whole body with the impact. Blair opened his eyes, startled, to see Jim bending forward, mouth open and soft, and Jim thrust in again and sealed his mouth to Blair's, sharing the bleachy-grassy taste of come. Blair shuddered, groaning, as Jim fucked him hard, fast, grunting into his mouth, and Blair came again, somehow, without ejaculating or even getting erect again, as Jim gasped his name and spilt himself inside Blair.

The thick silence was broken by unexpected breathless laughter.

Jim raised his head and gave his lover an aggrieved squint. "What's so funny?"

"Thou art still wearing thy cap."

End Kinks #7.
(6 June 1999)