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

[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.

[notjustaface]

Face can handle petulant children... at least Murdock shaped ones.

"Come on, we've got a van now... may as well put some of that storage space to use when we're between crash pads."

He braces one hand against the small of Murdock's back for a brief moment, guiding him before slipping back to a more neutral public stance.

"I'm gonna go look at ties."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

He idly thumbs through the racks looking for his size, pausing at one particularly rhinestone-encrusted pair.

"Who wears this stuff..."

He may be eccentric, but he's not eccentric enough for back pocket bedazzling.

[notjustaface]

Might look cute on him, little bit of shiny flair on an ass pocket.

Face is doing even worse, flipping through multi-colored monstrosities for the one least likely to give people seizures and maybe make him look a little more like the average white collar suit type.

"Navy and orange? Really? Do people actually think that's okay?"

[notthatcrazy]

What is it with them wanting excuses to look at each other's butts?

"Yeah, even I know that's not okay," he calls over.

He picks out a few of the least 80s-throwback-acidwashed pairs. "Gonna go look at t-shirts now."

[notjustaface]

"I'm taking advice from a guy that just willingly picked up acid-wash." He mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes at a tie that plays the Twelve Days of Christmas.

Selecting a basic black tie from the Mormon collection, he heads back toward the fitting rooms to check on Murdock - and maybe get a second shot at a little forbidden touching - when he saw the pink... thing... shoved between a stack of VHS workout tapes and Disco's Greatest Hits on LP.

Now that is a Wiggles if there ever was one.

"Ooooh, Murdock..." he grins, snatching it off the shelf and taking the last few quick steps toward the curtain before popping his head in the one Murdock had disappeared behind. "Nice shorts."