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"Hi... Sanson, what you got there?"
The white haired Servant turns his head around to find his Master standing just a little outside of the doorframe. To this sight, he exhales a heavy sigh, sounding his exhaustion, "It is, as you see, a maid dress." The man doesn't even try to hide it—not that he could with the dress completely covering his whole body. He moves to drag a chair from the corner of his room, placing it in a decently lit space, his hand gesturing politely, "Excuse the horrid sight, please be my guest."
It's anything but horrid...
A flowy black dress reaching above his ankles, a pair of fine black boots matching with the dress' fabric really well. An apron slightly shorter, perhaps to the length of his knees, with pockets semi-visible at the front. With frills and laces, and Master could tell he wears a corset along with it too, that's a dedication alright. His white hair complimenting the look, and his blue eyes shine through as the only color Master could pick out from the rest. Doesn't look half bad. Actually, it looks really good to him, really fitting. Would make one wonder if it was specially tailored to fit his figure or something—because in fact it is.
"Alright?" Master walks in, excusing himself to take a seat on the chair Sanson offered.
"The Queen—I mean, Marie, she asked me to wear one. Since she got one for herself," Sanson rotates his chair to face the other man. Seems like he didn't intend to be found in this state.
"Sooo, you modified your spirit origin to... Wear this because Marie asked you to?"
Once again he sighs, "Not quite... This outfit is just a regular attire tailored as per Marie's request."
"I see, it looks good on you!" Kudos to Marie.
"Oh? My gratitude, Master," That's quite a boost to his confidence. He finds himself now detailing each folds of his apron and checking the knot behind his back. Making sure that, even in this attire, he appears best in front of Master. A tint of blush visible on his pale cheeks. No matter how many times he would check the mirror, he couldn't find himself to flatter the dress The Queen made for him. But if Master said so...
Sanson finally meets his Master's eyes. It's not like he hates wearing it too. It's definitely an outfit he wouldn't wear on regular ocassions, he wouldn't choose for himself. But it is a beautiful dress at the end of the day. Marie made sure that his body fits right in comfortably even with a tight corset binding his waist. He's glad Master finds the dress looking good as it contains Marie's effort, despite it being a mere leisure whim to her. "I hope, I could serve justice for the dress." The executioner finally smiles.
He stands up to walk towards Master. He has been practicing with Marie—how to walk in the tight artificial leather shoes with semi-high heels, how to stand straight with the corset supporting his posture, how to keep his chin not too high but not too low either. Taking steps as if following a straight line towards his Master, whose mouth now agape in awe. With his enjoyment to Sanson's gestures being so obvious, the Servant then bows lightly in response, lifting the sides of the lower part of his skirt a little, his eerily soft smile speaks in tune, "What can I help you with, Master?"
The young mage's heart skipped a beat. It hits different! The term 'Master' shouldn't be special at this point but he just shattered the assumption to pieces. Leaving the red-faced Master grogilly answer, "You're... You're really good at this aren't you?"
"Truly? You flatter me too much," pale hand reaches out, guiding Master to take a stand in front of him. Ever so softly, so elegantly, politely. Master could barely muster an awkward smile while his heart flutters to his touch, and to the lightness of the fabric grazing on his legs. "Yes, you are.."
"Please pardon my hastiness then, dear Master, I wish you to take a closer look..." he inches closer, putting one of his hands on Master's waist and the other still holding onto his dress. Now that Master could feel Sanson is towering over him, he blushes even more. Forcing a laugh to slip from his mouth, both of his hands resting on Sanson's chest—this, feels incredibly scandalous. The white haired Servant moved his face a little too forward to Master's comfort, demanding his answer, "What would your answer be?"
"What..."
"I asked if I can offer my assistance to your need—what can I help you with, Master?" He repeats his former tone, not letting the man in his embrace to slip.
Master could feel his ears ring upon feeling the lukewarm air breathing down his cheek. He didn't prepare himself beforehand for any roleplay today, why is Sanson getting into this even further? Not that it's a bad thing—it is for the heart though—but even this kind of play should need some kind of preparations. With a squeak of a voice, he managed to mutter an answer, "Maybe... You can help me check if my attire is appropriate to attend today's- gathering?"
He even changed the term 'meeting' to 'gathering' for the sake of it! Now he feels even more bashful. Was it embarrassing? It is!!! Was it too much? It really is too much! Would Sanson laugh at him? He would actually feel better if Sanson laugh! And not only that, there's really nothing much going on with his plain buttoned up shirt. It's his everyday wear, it's not like it has any crooked tie or a vest to fuss over. Is HE the one that's getting into this too deep? Sanson didn't initiate anything he was just asking, maybe... Master could feel his knees would give out any seconds now because he feels incredibly ashamed. Stupid fluttering heart!
And to his surprise, Sanson actually started on 'fixing' his shirt right after his hand left his waist. Straightening the fabric, murmuring, "You dress nicely as always," under his breath.
Yeah, really, I feel like dying right now, it's okay to die like this. Thank you, Je—
When his hand moves up to fix one unbuttoned part near Master's colar, he stops for seconds. His eyes clearly smiling even though his lips remain flat, undoing it again, letting the collar hangs open loosely around Master's neck, "This suits you better."
JESUS CHRIST!!!
Before the shock from this outcome even dissipate, Master could feel the cold fingertip now barely touching, trailing a line from his Adam's apple, down to the center of his collarbones. He yelps, "S-Sanson?!"
Blue eyes smiling even wider, a vague curve on his lips doesn't appear to be wider though. He finds himself helplessly staring down at Master's exposed cleavage, from his own doing. As if trying to keep some imaginary prying eyes at bay, Sanson rests his hand on the side of Master's neck. Catching him being bashful, Sanson couldn't help but smile for real now, "I can see that Master is enjoying this." His voice lowers.
His hastiness took a turn and backfired—look at Frenchie, being all bashful looking at the flustered mess that is his Master. He is rather embarrassed too, he could never imagine any other opportunity for him to act this audacious. He's not used to it, but this makes up for all the time Master initiated for conversations and interactions, and the unexpected hugs, the encouraging presence he appreciates all so much. To be a little less awkward for him... Sanson is glad that he took Marie's offer, though reluctantly at first. And—of course—this complicated thought goes unnoticed by his Master.
"M-man...—I mean, yeah,... You look right at home wearing the dress, so I just...," exhaling his tension, Master could finally feel that his heart has been beating like it's about to split his chest open. His eyes darting to different corners trying to catch a break from the intoxicating pale blue looming over him.
"Marie made sure that it is comfortable enough for me to wear, so indeed, it fits my figure quite well," once again he takes Master's hand in his. Like a maiden guiding a man of her choice to the center of a ballroom, but instead, he takes Master back to his seat. Then pulling his other chair closer so they both can converse comfortably.
When both take the seats, it hits him. Took a while for Master to notice, that Sanson is sitting incredibly upright with his back straight, making him look even taller than usual. Both of his shoulders leaning back, and his chest—
"It's the corset," to the gaze ogling at him, he answers, "I cannot bend my back without suffocating my stomach. It is considerably bad for health if one continuously wear a corset on daily basis. And such is the same for women, mainly noble ladies with tighter corsets back when I was alive. To be able to feel it firsthand—now I understand a little more about them," he points to his abdomen and then his chest, "the pressure on these areas are preventing me from breathing properly, it is also quite tight for the digestive organs, it would cause problems overtime." It's the usual Sanson-esque answer, Master thought. Having experienced it firsthand, now Sanson would watch over Marie and d'Eon's choice of dresses like he does with their meals. Getting concerned over other's lifestyle as usual. He could totally see Sanson doing all that.
"I see... Don't you wanna take it off then?" Master speaks his worry, "If you feel uncomfortable, you can rest a bit and loosen the corset, maybe?"
"Merci, Monsieur."
The smile sends a shiver down his spine, he couldn't bear looking at Sanson at this point, he'd pass out if he ever decide to pull out more of that. Maybe it's because of the dress that he turned into such a... daring person. He may not realize it himself but it seems likely that he's having fun teasing the Master. He wouldn't usually initiate anything, he's usually passive when actions are not necessary. And his reticent nature would shy him further away from gestures of intimacy.
Master would definitely dream about this. The teasings, the lighthearted albeit hesitant smile of his, the touches, his pale hand resting on his waist, the pale blue eyes.
Cutting his train of thoughts is Sanson's polite voice, "Can you help me take it off then, Master?"
"????"
"The corset. The laces are tied at the back, I would appreciate a pair of extra hands."
A sigh of relief, Master agrees awkwardly before rotating Sanson's chair.
"Or would you like to take off the dress too? Worry not for I will still be of service for you even off duty."
COUGH—
"Sanson?!"