Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Socks

Author: Qzeebrella

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: G

Category: Slash

Summary: Malcolm has a sock fetish.

Author's Notes: Dedicated to Roaringmice. This is all Cedara's fault for she gave me the word sock to write a story around.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/13/2008. .

It was the socks that did it. The ones Trip wore while they were working on the port canon. The colourful stripes drawing his attention to Tucker's well-formed ankle, in spite of himself. The armoury officer couldn't help but notice the way the cloth clung to the engineer's lower leg as if it never wanted to let go. Added to that was the fact that no one could help but notice the vaguely psychedelic colours on the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet sock.

The sock should have offended his senses and made him feel a bit of disgust for the way Trip was flouting regulations, but instead he was slightly aroused at seeing the man`s ankle encased so colourfully. The worst of it was the fact he couldn't even take the engineer to task for not wearing a regulation sock for that would mean actually admitting that he had noticed the other man's ankle and Reed just wasn't prepared to do that.

In fact, Malcolm was vaguely appalled that he had noticed how attractive the Chief Engineer's ankle was for the man was his superior officer and thus out of bounds and untouchable.

Mores the pity.

_______________________________The next time Malcolm noticed Trip's ankle was at movie night, when the man practically waved it under his nose. The man sat beside him, ankle resting on a jean clad knee, looking for all the world as if he was sex incarnate. Even with the sock he chose to wear that night.

It was white this time, with yellow, red and orange polka dots all over it. The armoury officer actually found himself tracing patterns in those dots with his eyes before tearing them away to stare at the screen.

For the rest of the night he had to fight to keep his eyes on the screen, but found himself constantly checking out Trip's ankle. It didn't help that the man's foot was bouncing on his leg thus drawing his attention to that gorgeous ankle and how it was flexing. It just wasn't fair. Particularly since the man was acting as if nothing unusual was happening at all.

_______________________________

The third time Malcolm was blissfully going through the stretching routine he did before his normal workout when Trip bounced into the room wearing orange shorts, white tee and nearly thigh high white socks. Ribbed white exercise socks with one orange stripe around the top, which drew Malcolm's eyes to those gorgeous, strong thighs.

This time, he was incapable of dragging his eyes away for the engineer's legs were perfectly defined by the socks. The calf muscles somehow enhanced by the way they moved under the cloth, making the Commander's legs seem impossibly long.

Malcolm swallowed hard as he watched those legs, encased in those socks approached him, still incapable of tearing his eyes away. His eyes travelling down the legs to the bare hint of ankle, mostly hidden within the shoe.

The legs stopped.

And, still the armoury officer found it impossible to look up.

"See something you like?"

He heard the smirk in Trip's voice, but couldn't work up any indignation at being smirked at. Couldn't bring himself to care if Trip found his inability to look at anything but the man's socks amusing. Couldn't help but nod yes, indicating that he did indeed see something he liked and something he wanted to see more of.

"Good. I was hoping I finally got your attention. Now let's go back to my place."

Malcolm felt as Trip took his hand and led him out of the gym and toward the engineer's quarters. The armoury officer even vaguely noticed other pairs of legs as they walked along the corridor, but the normally observant man couldn't have said who the legs belonged to as his eyes were still glued to Trip's socks.

They finally reached Trip's quarters and went inside. Malcolm let the man help him out of his clothes. He even willingly let the engineer herd him over to the bed and laid him upon it. The armoury officer watched in anticipation as Trip toed off his shoes, took off his shirt, his orange shorts, the happy face boxers and then reached down toward the top of his socks.

"Leave them on, please?" Malcolm heard himself ask, which made him blush with embarrassment.

"Sure, whatever floats your boat." Trip said.

Trip left the socks on and Malcolm was absurdly touched by the gesture, even as he realized his sock fetish led him to his doom. That of falling hopelessly in love with one Trip Tucker, a man with atrocious taste in clothing, but with gorgeous legs and ankles.

~the end~