|WriterZilch (writerzilch) wrote in kinkfest,|
@ 2007-09-27 18:28:00
|Entry tags:||a: writerzilch, f: saiyuki gaiden, p: kenren/tenpou, september 27|
[fic] "Boots and Buckles", Saiyuki Gaiden (Kenren/Tenpou)
Title: Boots and Buckles
Warnings: Other than the male/male implications, none. Worksafe.
Prompt: Uniforms - “Little did he know that I get off on seeing him in the uniform that he seldom wore.”
Summary: Clothes rustle, and I can picture him tightening buckles and adjusting cuffs, shrugging to get the feel of the material.
A/N: It's supposed to be Kenren/Tenpou, but it ended up a little bit backward. o.o But only a little.
I lean against the Field Marshal's desk and snort. "It's a full roll-call, you know. Parade dress and everything. Means they'll want me to button up my uniform all proper-like."
Tenpou raises an eyebrow without looking up from his book. "And will you?"
"Ch'. Hell no."
I wait for some kind of response, but it doesn't seem to have sunk in yet. "Uh, Tenpou...? You do realize what this means, right?"
"That I'm expected to attend?"
"That you're expected to attend-- in uniform."
I can tell he almost winces at that. "What a nuisance," he murmurs, turning a page.
"When's the last time you even wore the thing?"
"I can't remember. Half a century ago...?"
I snicker and make a grab for his damned book. "I hope you're ready to put some spit an' polish on those boots, then."
Tenpou deftly avoids my reach but then sets the book down flat, anyway. "I suppose I'll have to dig them up, then." He looks up at me sharply. "You're going to help."
Normally when Tenpou says "you're going to help", it means you're in for a few hours of dusting and organizing and alphabetizing while he wanders off halfway through to read something he's found at the bottom of a pile. Normally I try to avoid "helping" in any way I can, because seriously, books aren't my thing. In this case, though, I'm almost excited; I can't even remember the last time I saw him all dressed up. He has no idea I get off on seeing him in the uniform he never bothers to wear. Hopefully I don't look too eager when I sigh and say "All right."
He gives me a suspicious look as we head over to his private quarters. I've got my kinks, but hopefully he's not going to find out about them. It's dangerous letting Tenpou in on too much, even if it's not something he'd use against you. He's still too damn sly by half, and I'd like to keep at least a little of my dignity intact.
Unlike his office, Tenpou's rooms are neat and spacious-- at least, on the surface. There's a closet just off the main entryway that I know is dangerous to open, as in falling avalanche-of-stuff dangerous. The main room is wide and almost plain-looking, uncluttered, but I think that's mostly because he's almost never there. The bedroom starts out neat and then gradually degrades into piles of books, scrolls, and sometimes clothes.
"So," I say, looking around, "where'd you last see your boots?"
"I was going to check the front closet, first."
I groan. Sure, maybe the end result will be worth it, but the task at hand is gonna be no picnic. I eye the sliding door warily. "That pile of axes had better not be in there."
He gestures vaguely. "I'm pretty sure I moved them to another room." Amazingly, I'm not too reassured.
I slide open the door and jump back as the expected tumble of junk comes flooding out. No axes this time, but there are a couple of swords (mercifully in their sheaths) and there's at least one broom handle. There are also books, lots of them, and I see his eyes light up.
"Oh! My copy of The Art of War," Tenpou says, moving forward.
I put my foot on it. "Don't even. We're looking for your boots, and I ain't doing it alone."
"You're a cruel man, General."
"You got no idea, Field Marshal. Roll up your sleeves and let's get to work."
It takes the better part of an hour, but we finally dig through the mounds of bric-a-brac and find the boots stuffed unceremoniously in a box labelled "int. rocks". I shove them in Tenpou's direction. "There. You got the rest of it, or are we in for another scavenger hunt?"
Tenpou smiles and adjusts his glasses, pushing them a little farther up his nose. "I'm mostly certain that the uniform itself is hanging in the bedroom."
"Mostly certain," I repeat.
"Perhaps we'd better go look."
He turns out to be mostly right-- the coat is hanging in another closet, pushed back behind a row of plain shirts in varyingly ugly colors. We can't find the pants, though.
"I'll just wear dark slacks," Tenpou promises, sounding earnest. "No one will notice if I stay buttoned up."
"Buttoned down, you mean." I run my fingers along the edge of the coat. "Better try it on," I say, trying not to sound wistful. "You know, to make sure it still fits."
He gives me a knowing half-smile, but all he says is, "Ah."
I turn my back while he strips. It's not like I've never seen the show before, but this time I'm willing to wait for the full effect. Clothes rustle, and I can picture him tightening buckles and adjusting cuffs, shrugging to get the feel of the material. I'm such a good boy I don't even peek.
"Hm," he says, which means he's dressed and I can turn around now.
He looks so damned good. The dishevelled hair and the nerdy glasses don't do anything to ward off the air of authority when he's in that sleek dark uniform. Seeing him like this, I can understand why he never wears it-- Tenpou is strong, and dangerous, but he doesn't want his enemies to know that. I feel weirdly priveleged, like I'm getting a peek at the Top Secret Weapon, here.
"Well?" He's smirking at me, which means he knows fucking well I think he looks delicious.
"Not bad," I say, just to be obnoxious. I nod down at his feet. "Boots could use a good polish, though."
"Ah, so they could." His look sharpens, no longer quite so lazy. "Would you be so kind, Kenren?"
It isn't a request so much as an order. My mouth goes suddenly dry. "You want me to shine your boots?"
He sits on the bed, back perfectly straight, one leg over the other. His smile is the kind you only get when you know someone's buttons and are all too happy to push them. "That is exactly what I want."
It's okay. Everything's cool. My heart isn't pounding double-time, or anything.
"I'll go find the shoe polish," I say.
I'll get on my knees and shine those boots 'til you can see your fucking reflection in them.
But later, when that uniform comes off...
I grin and go to hunt down the polish. This is why I love the Field Marshal in uniform. He looks so good in it--
--But he looks even better once you've gotten him about halfway out.