"What do you think about these?"

John walked up and down the aisle. "They look like the pair you've already got," Smitty said, scrolling through Twitter, whilst sitting on a stool. "You're not even looking." Smitty rolled his eyes as he pocketed his phone. He stared, deadpanned expression on his face, at John. He got a 'really?' expression back.

"Remind me why we're here again?" he sighed. John placed his hands on his hips. "To buy shoes, of course," he said," Why else would we be in a shoe store?" Smitty arched an eyebrow. "You already have like 5 pairs of shoes, 2 of them boots," he said, pointing at the current cowboy-like boots on John's feet. The other huffed, blowing some strands of his hair out of his face.

"You can never have enough boots," he said. He removed the boots from his feet anyway. "The heels aren't big enough on these anyway," he muttered, putting them back in the box, then placed them on their spot on the shelf. "Why don't you try the woman's section, they've got some major heels," Smitty said, distracted by his phone once again.

Nothing interesting was going on on Twitter, so he switched to Instagram. He liked some selfies of Miniladd and BigJigglyPanda, commented on Fitz's post and posted a photo of himself he never got around to post. Put in a nice deeper meaning in the caption and…post. He pocketed his phone and looked around.

Wait a minute… where did John go?

Somewhere in the distance he could here the telltale clicking of heels on parquet. It was probably the annoying saleswoman, who had asked them three times already if they needed her help. They shouldn't have come in in the middle of the day, when nobody else was in the store. She must be bored as hell.

"So, how do I look?" Smitty's neck almost snapped, he turned his head so fast. There he stood, grown at least 4 inches, long legs and hips held in a model-pose, strutting his stuff as he walked towards Smitty. John was wearing dark red killer high heels. And looking smug while doing so.

Smitty choked on his spit, started to cough violently and laugh at the same time. John shook his head as he strutted closer, smug smile still on his lips. Smitty took out his phone and snapped a picture, trying not to shake too much from laughing. Then he pressed record. John strutted towards the camera, leaned down, blew a kiss then turned around to walk away.

What took Smitty off guard tho, was the sudden hip thrust as John spread his legs and dipped down low. He was impressed and weirdly turned on. But he wasn't going to admit the last part. He stopped recording as John walked back towards him.

"I got you a pair as well," John said, pulling a box from somewhere Smitty hadn't noticed. Smitty shook his head as he stared at the 2-inch heels on the small looking shoes. "There's no way I'm gonna be able to fit in those, let alone walk in them." John shrugged a he knelt down in front of the stool Smitty sat on.

"How did you even get in those shoes?" Smitty asked as John was talking his shoes off for him. He was mortified, but curious. "You have small feet, it'll fit," John said, placing Smitty's shoes besides the boxes and placed the heels in front of his feet. He looked up and gave him a smirk. Smitty was leaning with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, looking bored.

Their faces were close together and for some reason, Smitty wanted to lean in closer. Before he could stop himself, John did by standing up. He held out his hand for the other to grab and help him in the heels. Smitty stood up, his legs wobbling with the unfamiliar feeling.

"How do women do this?" he asked, genuinely surprised," My feet hurt already." John laughed. "It takes some getting used to," he shrugged. He personally was used to wearing a bit of heels. This wasn't so difficult for him. "Now, why don't you try walking up and down here," he said.

Smitty took a wobbly step forward. Then another. And another. Hmm, this wasn't going too bad, he was getting the hang of it. He took another confident step forward. "This isn't as bad as I tho-" And he tripped.

Before he could crash to the ground, he grabbed the nearest thing in reflex. The nearest thing being John, who's reflex was to prevent his friend from falling. He grabbed the other and pulled him close. Smitty had John's shirt clutched in his hands, acutely aware of the chest he was leaning against. He looked up to see how close they were.

Aaaaand, he was blushing.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as John chuckled and carefully let him go. A sudden thought made Smitty freeze. John was always so careful with him, as if he was a fragile thing. Of course, they fucked around, pushing each other off the couch or trying to let the other trip, but he never actually hurt him.

When he did get hurt, mainly thanks to himself, John was always right at his side, making sure he wasn't hurt or to try and cheer him up. John was caring and loving towards him.

"-ello? Helloooo?" John waved a hand in front of Smitty's face, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Earth to Smitty!" Smitty gulped. He didn't recognize the feeling coursing through him, he felt like he needed to lie down or something. "Hey… Are you okay?" John asked as he helped the other sit down on the stool.

There it was again, Smitty thought, the concern clear on John's face, his eyes beaming with worry. Was he even worthy of such care? He shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. "I'm fine."

John gave him a disbelieving look, but didn't comment on it. "Let's get these off shall we?" John asked as he kneeled down in front of Smitty. The other huffed.

"I can do that myself, I'm a big boy," he said and bend down to take the heels off of his poor feet. John shrugged and sat down on his butt, sitting cross-legged. "Ok, big boy. You were pretty shit, walking in those." His own feet still had the red killer heels strapped on. Smitty rolled his eyes as he freed his feet from the shoes. Seriously, how did women do that?!

"Not all of us are so in touch with their feminine side." John shrugged. "I like heels, feminine or not." Smitty smiled at him, proud of the other and the fact that he didn't care about the social standards or typical gender roles and all that shit. John was John and he did whatever he wanted to. Smitty really admired that.

John had started picking at his nail polish as Smitty sat there looking him over. "What're you smiling about?" John mumbled, not looking up. "You." John did look up this time. "Good," he said and went back to picking at the nail polish on his fingers.

Smitty stood up and returned the shoes to the women's section of the store. He didn't bother to place it in the correct spot, that impatient woman could do that. At least she wouldn't be so bored anymore. When he walked back to where he had left the other man, he noticed John standing in front of a mirror.

"I'm keeping these," John said as Smitty got closer," I like how they shape my legs." Smitty smiled and said," Makes your butt looks great." John looked at him. "I know right?" he smiled," I could definitely get dem bois to the yard." Smitty laughed. "You're missing something crucial to do that," he pointed out.

John took of the heels, holding them and his own pair of shoes in his hands. Smitty had put his own shoes on again. "A milkshake," John said, nodding his head. He walked barefoot to the counter, putting down the heels. The cashier looked at the shoes, then up at John and back at the shoes. She shrugged.

"Could you please spray them with some of that water-resistance stuff, please? I want to wear them right away." The cashier stared at John, shrugged and so with a soft 'sure'. After she finished, she rang the items up in the cash register. "That will be 50 dollars, please," she said, sounding bored.

"Oh and a plastic bag please," John said. The cashier grabbed one from behind the counter, put it on top of the heels and pressed another button on the register. "That'll be 50 dollars and 20 cents, please." She sighed.

John paid for it with his card, then took all his stuff off of the counter and said goodbye to the already preoccupied by something else cashier. He walked over to Smitty, stuffing his old pair of shoes in the shoebox and putting the box in the plastic bag. He leaned on Smitty as he put on his heels. Admiring them, before walking out of the shoe store. Smitty huffed, as he looked up at the other, now even taller than him.

"What's up midget?" John said, grinning. "Oh shut up," Smitty mumbled as he rolled his eyes. John slung his arm around Smitty's shoulders. "Now let's go, get that milkshake, so I can get all the bois to my yard." Smitty chuckled. "That's sounds like a plan."

"You're paying."

"Am not!"

They ended up getting milkshakes at their usual spot and walk to the little park, sitting on the same park bench at the edge of the playground. After they finished their drinks, John suggested taking a video of him in his heels. At some point it became a music video as John blasted Brittney Spears on his phone, while Smitty recorded with his. They uploaded it to Twitter and Instagram and people absolutely loved it.

By the time they got back to Smitty's place, both their accounts had blown up with notifications, making it impossible to use their phone. They laughed as they decided to turn them off. Once they were settled on the couch, huddled close and sharing a blanket, they turned them back on. Reading some of their friend's comments on the video, while eating left over pizza.

All in all it had been a good day.

Except maybe when John tackled Smitty to the ground because he tried to climb off of the kid's slide, getting his heel stuck in a tiny gap and tripping off of the damn thing. But that was a video clip only shared between the two of them with laughter and almost tears.

None of them spoke about the couple of seconds they had laid on top of each other on the ground or how John had softly wiped the sand off of Smitty's cheeks. And neither spoke about the weird electric feeling they got whenever they looked in each other's eyes.