Blissful Oneshots

Kinky Boots (Scomiche)

Whoops, I wrote a smutty thing.

There are too many people around.

That wasn't true a couple of minutes ago. A couple minutes ago Scott was happily goofing around with a bunch of his closest friends, congratulating Todrick on slaying the scene even harder than Scott knew he would.

A couple of minutes ago they'd been joking and grinning and trying to find boots big enough for his giant feet. He'd been laughing at Jeremy practically drooling over the thought of seeing Kirstie in a pair of thigh-high red boots and giggling as some assistants helped him into his own pair. He spent one of the remaining minutes snapping a few sexy steps in the things, hurriedly typing LIVING because fuck yes, these are amazing.

A couple of minutes ago, Scott was fine with the crowds and the noise and the goofy fun.

And then some people stepped out of his line of sight and there was Mitch in his own pair of thigh-high sexy red boots.

Thigh. High. Sexy. Red. Boots.

On Mitch.

It's probably a good thing there's so much sound around because the noise he makes at the sight—somewhere between a growl and a whimper? He has no idea how to describe it—would probably be embarrassing if anyone else heard it. Kinda like how his immediate and painfully hard erection would be embarrassing if he wasn't wearing a big grey hoodie.

He has to pause and just blink a couple of times to make sure there's still enough blood in his brain to stay standing. He wets his bottom lip and then bites it for good measure because holy fuck.

Mitch doesn't notice him staring at first. He's preening for a camera, serving like the queen he is. He turns this way and that, tilting his head down and to the side and smirking that dirty little smirk of his that always makes Scott want to do unspeakable things to him.

Scott's beginning to wonder where all the air in the room went. Is he still breathing? He should probably check if he's still breathing. He knows his heart is beating because he can hear his pulse whooshing loudly through his eardrums.

Eventually the camera moves on to someone else and Mitch turns and makes eye contact. His smirk widens, probably at how obvious it is that Scott's three seconds away from spontaneously combusting, but then his eyes are rapidly dilating. His gaze is travelling up and down between Scott's feet and thighs and ass and suddenly he's licking his lips too.

Apparently Scott's boots do a little something for him as well.

He's not sure how they make it through the next few minutes. There are still too many people around and then Toddy comes over and they're posing for a photo with him and Kirstie and Scott's trying desperately to look like he's having cute, slightly risqué fun with his oldest friends and not like it's taking everything he has not to pick Mitch up and fuck him into the closest wall with those boots wrapped around his waist.

He vaguely remembers giving Nicole his phone to take a picture for Superfruit and he thinks she gives it back to him afterward, but honestly he's not really focusing well.

And then the photos are over and the assistants are coming back to reclaim the boots and Scott doesn't know whether to be relieved because he can't tolerate Mitch in the things for much longer without doing something about it or sad because when is he going to get to see Mitch in the things ever again?

But then Mitch's hand is clenched around Scott's forearm and he's looking wild-eyed and off and maybe a little sick?

Scott's lust instantly turns to concern. "Are you okay?"