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“Why do you need a new suit already, Boss?”
Oswald led Gabe inside the tailor shop, stopping and turning towards him. “I'm the king of Gotham now, Gabe. My new wardrobe should reflect that.” He hobbled over to the man behind the counter and exchanged a few words with him while Gabe took in his surroundings. The shop was small, but compact. He imagined there were more clothes in the drawers lining the walls than he had the time, or patience, to go through.
Oswald returned to Gabe, smiling. “Why don't you go look through materials for my vests? Find something regal but approachable; yet not too approachable,” he said simply, wandering away towards the ties.
Gabe sighed. What made his boss think he'd be any good at this? He stared at the shelves, running his fingers through a few of the fabric bolts. Silk, maybe? Or was that too fancy? He had no idea. His hand came across some velvet of deep burgundy and he paused. Gabe imagined Oswald in a vest made of that, imagined running his hands along his sides towards his back, feeling the soft material against Oswald's body...yeah, that would do. He turned and made his way back to his boss, who was holding at least a dozen different new ties already. They were different than the kind he usually wore, longer and fuller (easier to pull at).
“What do you think of this?” Oswald asked, holding up a particularly flamboyant tie, all patterned and silk and absolutely fetching.
Gabe shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Fine, Boss.”
Oswald huffed. “Why did I bring you at all?”
Gabe wondered the same thing.
“Did you find anything at least?”
Gabe showed him back to the fabrics and pulled at the one he was looking at. “This regal enough for you?”
Oswald rubbed the velvet between his fingers, considering. “Not bad. Has a certain sensual appeal, don't you think?”
Gabe nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
Oswald smirked. “Of course.” Despite his seeming ambivalence towards Gabe's choice, he handed the bolt to him.
Two hours later found Gabe outside the dressing room. Half of the time spent had been Oswald deciding on new pants and a suit jacket (“the pinstripes are especially tasteful, don't you think, Gabe?”) and the other on his dress shirt. Who knew it would take so long to pick out a white shirt.
Finally, the curtain was pulled back and Oswald stepped out, his new black and white shoes clicking on the hard floor. “So?”
Gabe stared at him for too long and Oswald put his hands on his hips, impatient. “Well? Cat got your tongue, Gabriel?”
“No—it's good. Perfect, Boss.”
Oswald smiled, apparently satisfied; he turned around, making a show of his new clothes. Gabe stood, daring to reach out and tug on his boss's tie. “So. We done here?”
“All done. Thank you, Gabriel. You've been a big help.”
Gabe wasn't sure how to interpret his smile, but nodded. “Alright, I'll drive us back then--”
Oswald wagged his finger at him. “We're done here,” he said. “But now there's the matter of my hair.”
Oswald was damn lucky Gabe had a thing for him.