Title: Morning
Author: McJude
Rating: R
Summary: The Andromeda men in the morning choosing their underwear for the day.
Author's Note: This short, plotless, maxi-drabble was inspired by weekend mornings. I don't own the characters, and as of yet the man in my life does not own all the described underwear, but all items are available on the internet and probably in fine stores everywhere.
Seamus Harper glanced at the three piles of clothing in the corner of his room. Each was in the general area of an overturned laundry basket and contained clothes classified generally as clean, sort of clean, and dirty. Because he could always find something more interesting to do, he usually only took time to do laundry when the three piles merged into one. Today there were still enough items in the clean and sort of clean piles to not have to think about that.
Underwear. He needed underwear. He always felt a bit uncomfortable standing naked in his room, sure that Andromeda was watching. He walked over and bent to survey the contents of the clean basket. She'd get an even better view if she were watching now. If she were a butt girl . . woman. . . ship?
Harper smiled. He still had quite a selection of clean underwear. Not just the white High Guard issue boxers that had helped extend the period between his laundry visits exponentially but limited his choices to what he called paper or plastic (cotton or polyester). He had lots of fun shorts left clean. The Seven Wonders of Space, shells of Infinity Atoll, bugs (was he meeting with any Than today?), fireworks, hearts, and his personal favorite, bikini beach babes. He decided on the shells. It wasn't that special of a day.
He moved to the almost clean basket and selected a shirt and cargo's. He'd be ready for breakfast really soon.
* * * *
Dylan Hunt opened the top drawer of his bureau. Folded in precise rows, and virtually undisturbed were rows of High Guard issue boxers, separated by fabric type and color. White, black, navy, khaki and camouflage. None of them appealed to him today. None of them ever appealed to him. He closed the drawer and smiled to himself.
In the second drawer contained his stock in trade -- the boxer briefs. He had them in white, gray, black, navy, red, purple, green, ecru, and pink. Even though pink ones were the result careless laundry practices, they were fun to wear when the mood was right. He liked the way this underwear felt against his body, holding his jewels snuggly and having a longer leg so he didn't have to worry about them riding up. They were also thick and toasty when you had to sit against something hard and cold. Most days they were his underwear of choice.
His third drawer was an organizational nightmare. It contained all his other underwear. He constantly debated whether the contents should be organized by color, style, or fabric. Even when he thought he had it resolved he would find that the next time he opened the drawer that he had changed his mind. Doing the laundry and figuring out where to put a pair of mango, high cut leg, wide waistband, cotton briefs was always a chore.
* * * * *
Tyr Anasazi grunted as he looked in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He certainly wasn't going to wear those bunching High Guard swingies. A black mesh thong called out his name but he was saving that for a special occasion -- like the next time he gave Beka a wrestling lesson. Commando -- again.
* * * * *
Dylan pulled on a turtleneck so he wasn't standing naked in his room. Even that had complicated his choice. Did he want to wear briefs that allowed him to tuck his shirt into his underwear, or was he going to wear something where the shirt would hang over. He remembered Sarah used to like it when he wore a long shirt with a thong underneath. Thinking of Sarah caused a small twitch. He tried to ignore it.
He had to consider what he was going to wear today. It usually wasn't much of a problem. The standard High Guard uniform was designed to wear over full cut briefs so any underwear was OK, but if he chose to wear one of his custom fitted uniforms, which were much tighter in the seat, a thong would be the underwear of choice. One of the signs of the downfall of civilization was the reemergence of the visibility of underwear lines. It appalled him.
If, by chance, he were not going to wear leather but one of his denim uniforms, then the soft cotton underwear with the contour stitched seat would be a good choice. They made his buns look as perky as Harper's. Thinking about Harper's buns was not helping him get dressed. He sighed and looked down at his dick and realized it was not exactly hanging there.
He selected a red silk, extreme thong, with lots of pouch room. That was what he needed. He sat on the bed, and ran the soft underwear over his thigh and then held it up to examine it visually. Nothing was cramped or squished when he wore these, his cock and balls fit nicely into the extended front. Of course it took a little maneuvering to get them into the pouch correctly. It became more difficult with tumescence, like he was experiencing now. Sticking two fingers into the pouch, he moved it along his still naked and growing cock. The thin straps that circled his waist and held the pouch between his legs were covered in the same soft silk. He wrapped it around his hand and moved the underwear as a glove. Silk covering his palm, holding his now engorged organ, moving slowly. He didn't think of any specific person, just how good it would feel to spend the day wearing this underwear.
Damn, he'd cum. Guess this wasn't a red silk day, unless he wanted to wear the close cut boxers. Nah.
He narrowed the choice between the orange wide-ribbed, athletic briefs with the darted front that always presented a nice package and a pair of heather athletic briefs with a V-seamed front pouch. Once he had cum the emphasis always went back to support and comfort -- with just a tad of enhancement. He pulled out both pairs and sat beside them on the bed. Thinking. It was a difficult choice.
"Captain Hunt, you are needed on command deck."
"Darn," he muttered. Andromeda never gave him enough time to get properly dressed in the morning. "Be right there Andromeda."
"We needed you ten minutes ago. Hurry."
Ten minutes ago he was still rubbing himself with red silk. Why hadn't she called to him then? He was convinced Andromeda liked to watch while he . . . .
He carefully folded the two pairs of underwear and replaced them their original spots. He reopened the second draw and extracted a pair of navy boxer briefs. Guess it wasn't a day for the good stuff. With some degree of hesitancy, he tossed the wet red thong into his laundry basket and hoped it wouldn't be washed with anything white.