[On Valentine's Day, Grell wakes up to find himself wearing a see-through red lace nightgown. Rather than being disturbed, he's delighted. The hotel likes him, it gives him gifts. So he's glad to get another one
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"Sutcliff," he says, clearing his throat. "That outfit is rather...amusing, I suppose. In a strange, improper way. And while your compliment is quite tantalizing, I'm afraid I must beg you to cease this terribly inappropriate commentary."
Will catches Grell's shoulders awkwardly and tries to push him away, though he only succeeds in allowing Grell in further.
"I have no need to know about what color your toenails are under those non-regulation boots," Will grumbles, but his arms find themselves around Grell's waist. "And...I am not cruel. I am simply professional, and..."
Grell smells quite nice, and although Will has no preference on color, Grell's hair does have a way of making an impression, and--
"Really," he says, clearing his throat, "you are as thrilled by shoes as you are by me. What a silly business, indeed."
"I'm quite sure you don't have my size, either way," Will says, stepping away. "However...I must admit some curiosity in this scenario."
He looks Grell up and down, surveying coldly and in a practical manner. "I have only had limited studies in aesthetics and philosophy after all. I freely admit, and unregretfully so, my B-student status as a trainee."
In the classes Will did take, however, he recalls nothing that is quite the shape of Grell's Sutcliff's leg. Legs. Warm arms around his neck, ohmywhy...
"Do you wish to educate me in the fine art of cobbling?"
Will adjusts his glasses.
"And that attire is rather..."
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And, I think I look rather fetching when I prance. What do you think, Will, my Will?
You know, usually I don't like being held against my Will, but this time I could make an exception.
You're so handsome... and so cold...
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Will adjusts his pants, and looks embarrassed.
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Grell lurches forward, throwing his arms around William's neck.
"YOU THRILL ME FROM MY CRIMSON HAIR TO MY BRIGHT VERMILION TOENAILS!"
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"I have no need to know about what color your toenails are under those non-regulation boots," Will grumbles, but his arms find themselves around Grell's waist. "And...I am not cruel. I am simply professional, and..."
Grell smells quite nice, and although Will has no preference on color, Grell's hair does have a way of making an impression, and--
"Really," he says, clearing his throat, "you are as thrilled by shoes as you are by me. What a silly business, indeed."
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He clears his throat.
"But... but I'd much rather have a MAN that SHOES!"
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"Sutcliff," he says brusquely, "where do you even attain those...things?"
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He looks Grell up and down, surveying coldly and in a practical manner. "I have only had limited studies in aesthetics and philosophy after all. I freely admit, and unregretfully so, my B-student status as a trainee."
In the classes Will did take, however, he recalls nothing that is quite the shape of Grell's Sutcliff's leg. Legs. Warm arms around his neck, ohmywhy...
"Do you wish to educate me in the fine art of cobbling?"
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... Cobbling... Will... are you making fun of me?
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"Not at all, Sutcliff," Will says, adjusting his glasses. "Please, I ask for a demonstration if you're really so infatuated with this shoe business."
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I don't want to talk about SHOES! I want to talk about YOU! Oh Will... don't tease me!
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"Now, what would you like to know about me that you don't already?"
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