"So Darren," The interviewer began, smiling across to the young couple sitting on the couch, nuzzled so close to one another that their legs were pushed firmly against each other, "What is your favorite article of clothing that Chris wears."
Darren grinned at the question, already racking his brain for the proper answer. As he opened his mouth, he was cut off by the host's addition of, "And lingerie doesn't count."
The audience broke into laughter, even more so after Chris burred his face into his hands to hide his giggles.
Darren gave a defeated shrug and a quick joke of, "Damn." before continuing, "No really….I think….oh it's really boring though." He sighed, glancing over at Chris to see if he could tell what he was about to say.
"Well, it's this black t-shirt Chris has. It's nothing special, well it is, but not at first glance. Just a very simple shirt, no writing on it or anything, just a a black shirt that is a little too big on the bottom,a little too tight at the top, and usually has remnants of Brian's hair along the hem," Darren explained, talking more to Chris then the audience, "And when he wears it, it just stretches across his chest in the most wonderful way. It hugs his biceps so nicely," He inhaled a sharp but quiet breath, the memory of Chris in the shirt overcoming him and short-circuiting his brain a little, "A-and it gets a little wavy down at the bottom and it's so soft and worn in. It's just a really great shirt." Darren finished, shakily chuckling near the end.
The interviewer laughed, waving a hand near her face as if she was cooling herself down. With a little 'Woo', she turned to the audience and called out, "Does anyone need a cigarette?"
Chris only blushed harder and turned to hide his face in Darren's shoulder as the audience roared. Even though Darren knew he should feel at least a touch of embarrassment, the thought of Chris in the shirt was pleasant enough to override that.
—
A few days after the fateful 'black shirt question' Darren was just arriving home from a day of errands. He stepped inside the apartment with the usual sarcastic call of, "Honey, I'm home!" but instead of Chris's head popping up from the couch or seeing him dramatically spin around to face him in his swivel chair, Chris was no where to be seen.
Darren set down the bag of grocery's and shed his coat just in time to see Chris strutting down the hallway towards him with a sultry kind of smirk spread across his face. As Darren's gaze moved downward, he saw Chris was wearing the shirt, only the shirt.
"I never knew you fancied this top so much." Chris grinned, twisting a bit where he stood. The shirt was only long enough to just cover his ass but the unmistakable shape of his hardening cock beneath the fabric was very visible.
"Shit, Chris." Darren groaned at the sight before him, tossing his jacket aside and racing towards the man.
"Wait." Chris smiled deviously before twirling in a tight circle, exposing the lack of undergarments and the abundance of revealed skin. "I want you to see exactly what I'm offering."
Darren furrowed his brow, mouth slightly agape, "You-you're not wearing-"
"Good use of your eyes, Sherlock. Why not use your hands this time?" Chris mused, taking a step forward in challenge.
Darren grasped onto Chris's hips, shoving him backwards onto the couch, falling with him. If Chris wanted him to use his hands, oh, he could use his hands.