Work Text:
Sesshomaru opened the closet and sighed, again, for the 10th time that week.
"Kagome," he grumbled, snagging the only outfit, his fitted Hugo Boss suit.
He slipped into it, then grabbed the keys to make the daily "We've run out of this baby item" run.
In a suit.
Because Kagome had taken it upon herself to hide all of his other clothing, claiming she liked him better dressed like this.
The store clerks and busybody shoppers constantly giggled and tittered during each visit, and he was getting tired of it. But, short of confronting Kagome, he didn't know what to do.
Surely, he thought, at some point, she'd give in? And give him his clothes back? If not, he was reaching the end of his rope, and, as much as he loved his mate, he'd put his foot down. Still, of all the quirks of Kagome he had come to know over the tears, this one was bordering on annoyance.
"We're out of formula too." Kagome quipped as he made his way to the garage.
He sighed, waving a hand at her over his shoulder. He hoped this phase of Kagome's--the hiding of his clothes-- would go away soon.
Another three weeks later, he finally retaliated.
