Skirts

4x5

Well, fair enough, Nephrite thinks, they've been living on Earth and slowly assimilating for two months now, ever since the Master's wedding, and he's even talked Kunzite out of flying into a fit every time he goes out with Ami, but Jadeite is really, even by his standards, taking this too far. He looks over at his roommate sprawled out on the bed in only his pants--blue jeans, for the love of all that is holy, and they look too damn good on him--reading a book and scratching his bare belly.

"Jadeite?"

"Mm?"

"Why do you have a dress in your closet?"

Jadeite blinks, then shrugs, a roll of sleek shoulders. "You sure Ami didn't leave something here?"

"No." Nephrite thumbs the soft, plain black fabric dubiously. "It's not hers. And I would've given it back to her, not hung it up..."

Jadeite shrugs again, tosses the book aside, stretches, and wiggles. The late afternoon light through the thin curtains is painting him all gold. The swells of wiry muscle in his shoulders, the scattering of fine hair on his forearms, the dusty dark spots of his nipples--all gold, and it's giving Nephrite a hard-on, and so is the way those jeans frame his hips and ride just below his trim waist. But when Nephrite just stares at him, still dubious, Jadeite sits up, elbows on knees, and tosses his hair out of his face, and peeks over his shoulder into the closet.

"Right, that dress," he says, blue eyes sparkling. "Want to see me in it?"

Nephrite sputters. "You wear dresses? Why the hell do you wear dresses?"

"They look nice." He shrugs. "Nothing fancy. I just think my legs look hot in a skirt. Besides, I have this really weird memory of getting really, really drunk--a while ago, maybe Beryl had fucked with my head--and pretending I was a policeman. Only in a skirt. Do you remember anything like that?"

Nephrite stares at him in utter disbelief, head spinning a little, and has a very, very faint memory of wearing a hat. And yelling a lot, but he remembers that most of the time from those days. "Maybe we should ask Zoisite?" he ventures.

"Eh, he'll think we're mad. Besides, it's probably not important. Anyway, want to see me in it?"

He'll probably look like an idiot, Nephrite thinks; it'll be a good laugh. But when he tries to picture it--the soft stretchy stuff probably clings to Jadeite's ass a little, like Ami's skirts do sometimes, and his legs probably would look good, and damn it, the thought is sort of hot. Though it would look stupid with the jeans. "Will you take your pants off first?"

"Sure," Jadeite says cheerfully, and reaches for his fly. "Will you fuck me afterwards? It's been a while."

Nephrite's dick comes to the decision rather faster than he does, and he finds himself tugging the dress off the hanger and tossing it at Jadeite's head. "You're bloody mad, and I'm going to pound you senseless. Go put it on."

"Yay!"