Thrift Shop Threads

[notjustaface]

The jobs were sort of an accident, probably one Hannibal intended all along given it made life on the run all the more difficult. It certainly wasn't Face's first choice of ways to scratch together a little bit of cash.

And it was a little. A very depressing little.

Little enough that a cover ID requiring a decent suit under rack price - far under rack price.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he shakes his head - staring at the thrift store's hand-lettered sign. "Clothes come here to die."

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

"If the ugly Christmas sweaters jump out and attack you, I promise I'll protect you."

He gives the suit the once-over. "Kinda looks like it came straight off the Miami Vice set."

[notjustaface]

Some of those sweaters are pretty intimidating.

"I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be caught dead in double breasted khaki." He shakes his head, putting it back to thumb through more.

"I'm thinking blue... maybe gray."

[notthatcrazy]

"Good luck."

His attention is already wandering toward the rack of old comic books in the far corner.

[notjustaface]

"I'll need it." He sighs, shaking his head as Murdock wanders off.

The selection is slim, but not entirely lost - even if the best looking of the bunch is polyester.

"I'm trying things on..." he calls over toward the more colorful side of the store.

[notthatcrazy]

"'Kay."

He'll pull it off. Somehow.

"Hey, I think some of these Star Wars toys are vintage."

He's not really expecting any excitement in return.

[notjustaface]

'Vintage' briefly catches his interest as he changes into the light navy slacks.

That's one way of looking at it.

"Murdock... I need you..." he calls from the fitting room that seriously lacks a mirror.

[notthatcrazy]

"Comin'."

He sets down the Boba Fett action figure that's nearly as old as he is and wanders back to the fitting rooms.

"You decent yet?"

[notjustaface]

"I'm always better than decent," he grins, poking his head out from behind a curtain.

"Come here, how does it look from behind?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Oh really?"

He raises an eyebrow, looking over the cut of the suit. He's not at all taking advantage of the opportunity to stare at his ass. Not at all.

"Looks okay to me. How's it feel?"

[notjustaface]

It's a good opportunity as he lowers the back of the jacket, shrugging his shoulders.

"Need to take it in a little at the waist and probably drop the hem an inch. Any weird pulls or anything?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Turn around for me."

He looks closely for anything out of the ordinary. (And yeah, maybe a little staring.)

"Looks good."

[notjustaface]

A little runway turn and flashed smile later, he's fairly confident in the look.

"Right... well... let me get out of these pants and then we can talk about a shirt and maybe a five-dollar watch."

He chuckles softly, leaning in to brush a kiss against his cheek in the close quarters.

[notthatcrazy]

He blushes slightly at the contact before turning to return the kiss.

"Think most of the watches they got are made of plastic, but maybe we'll find somethin' decent."

He gives him a pat on the butt in passing. "I'll let you get changed."

[notjustaface]

That blush makes it all worthwhile, and he whispers; "A little help with the zipper?"

Teasing is a reflex, Murdock... embrace the reflex.

[notthatcrazy]

"I think you can get dressed like a big boy," he grins.

He leans in close and whispers: "Later, babe."

[notjustaface]

A frown curls his lips only a second - barely a false pout.

"Way to kill a man's dreams..." he whispers back, stealing a small kiss.

"Go on, go find something cute we can name Wiggles."

[notthatcrazy]

"Just givin' you something to look forward to, darlin'."

He leaves the dressing room, leaving Face to collect himself.

"How attached are you to that name, 'cause I was thinkin' something more along the lines of Petunia."

[notjustaface]

And he always looks forward to it, he looks forward to a lot of things that he's pretty sure Murdock doesn't even know about.

"Don't I get to name one?"

[notthatcrazy]

"You wanna name it, you gotta help me pick it out."

[notjustaface]

Gingerly folding the jacket and pants over his arm, he steps back out from behind the curtain with a soft smirk.

"Shirt first, white - buttons... show me the way, oh thrift master."

[notthatcrazy]

He leads the way to the dress shirt section with ease. Fortunately plain white isn't hard to come by.

"Anything in particular you're lookin' for?"

[notjustaface]

"If it looks good, I'm in..." He mutters, browsing over the selection until a standard cut in his size turns up - plucking the hanger off the rack.

"Like this." It's not so bad, clearing objectives.

[notthatcrazy]

"Not bad. You need to try it on?"

[notjustaface]

"I think I'm good." He holds up the shirt, comparing the sleeve against his arm; "I'm a pretty standard size."

His eyes sweep over to the next rack over - jeans and shorts; "You need any gear?"

[notthatcrazy]

And in an instant he morphs from amateur fashion critic to petulant five-year-old.

"Yeah... probably should."

He hates trying on clothes.