(I'm, uh...very rusty. And apparently very bad at smut. But I attempted this anyway. Sorry if it's kinda...crap.)
Stephen never really understood the appeal of crossdressing. He wouldn't dare stop anyone from doing it, oh no, he'd never do that. But he couldn't wrap his brain around the reason why wearing female clothes would be that much more appealing than men's clothes.
He asked Eddie about it once during a gathering (what with him being the closest he had to an authority on the subject), but only got an uncharacteristic “I don't think you'd understand.” (Well, of course I don't understand, Stephen thought. That's why I'm asking you.)
It wasn't until the two found themselves alone later that Stephen finally got it.
Eddie was dressed in leather. Lots and lots of shiny leather. Enough leather to make someone from an animal-rights group have an aneurysm. Also high heels, fishnet stockings, make-up...the works. It would have made a normal woman look hideous and tacky, but, as Stephen observed to himself, Eddie was neither normal nor a woman.
As the two talked—about some inconsequential subject apparently not worth remembering—, Eddie subtly posed for Stephen, showing off his many “good sides.” Stephen became more and more distracted by this as the conversation went on, at one point hesitating for a full minute and thirty-seven seconds (Eddie counted) before he could reply with an “I'm very sorry, what were you saying?”
“I asked you, do you understand now?”
“Well, yes, I quite understand what she was getting at with that line—”
“Not the fucking poem, Fry. Do you understand now?”
“I—I don't see what you're getting at here, Eddie.”
“Stop being coy with me, Stephen, baby. Do you understand now?”
Stephen glanced quickly at his own reflection in Eddie's jacket. “I...I think so...if that's what you're trying to do.”
“Some people never understand. But I think this look works for me, no?”
“Quite well.”
Eddie pushed Stephen against the wall and grabbed his tie, wrapping it around his fingers. “But, really, the clothes are optional.”
Eddie Izzard/Stephen Fry and crossdressing
Date: 2008-08-27 03:00 am (UTC)Stephen never really understood the appeal of crossdressing. He wouldn't dare stop anyone from doing it, oh no, he'd never do that. But he couldn't wrap his brain around the reason why wearing female clothes would be that much more appealing than men's clothes.
He asked Eddie about it once during a gathering (what with him being the closest he had to an authority on the subject), but only got an uncharacteristic “I don't think you'd understand.” (Well, of course I don't understand, Stephen thought. That's why I'm asking you.)
It wasn't until the two found themselves alone later that Stephen finally got it.
Eddie was dressed in leather. Lots and lots of shiny leather. Enough leather to make someone from an animal-rights group have an aneurysm. Also high heels, fishnet stockings, make-up...the works. It would have made a normal woman look hideous and tacky, but, as Stephen observed to himself, Eddie was neither normal nor a woman.
As the two talked—about some inconsequential subject apparently not worth remembering—, Eddie subtly posed for Stephen, showing off his many “good sides.” Stephen became more and more distracted by this as the conversation went on, at one point hesitating for a full minute and thirty-seven seconds (Eddie counted) before he could reply with an “I'm very sorry, what were you saying?”
“I asked you, do you understand now?”
“Well, yes, I quite understand what she was getting at with that line—”
“Not the fucking poem, Fry. Do you understand now?”
“I—I don't see what you're getting at here, Eddie.”
“Stop being coy with me, Stephen, baby. Do you understand now?”
Stephen glanced quickly at his own reflection in Eddie's jacket. “I...I think so...if that's what you're trying to do.”
“Some people never understand. But I think this look works for me, no?”
“Quite well.”
Eddie pushed Stephen against the wall and grabbed his tie, wrapping it around his fingers. “But, really, the clothes are optional.”