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“Do you choose to leave all of your clothes in tatters?” Jervis said. In his hand was a moth-eaten shirt with more stitches than fabric. In the contrast of the combination of Jervis’ clean-cut cuffs and white leather gloves, the shirt looked like it belonged to a corpse. Instead it was Jonathans. He sat a bit aways from the open drawer twiddling his thumbs. Head kept low as Jervis chided him.
“...Can’t help it much.” He says after a moment, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “ I've kept all of my clothes since high school.” He hesitates for a moment, his eyes never leaving the safety of his lap. His wrists poked out of their sleeves a few inches, exposing tender wiry flesh beneath. Gentle lines of scars wrapping around the skin. “I’ve got weird proportions.”
Jervis sighed. He folded the piece and placed it back in the drawer.
“That's no reason a man cannot dress like a gentleman, Jonathan.” He said matter of factly. Jonathan scoffed. Jervis wore suits to the grocery store, hats with luxurious feathers to take out the trash, and leather gloves no matter the season and the time. The man’s small stature would be the culprit, as Jonathan assured himself that he had no issue dressing himself. Jonathan scratched the exposed bit of calf right under the pant cuff with his other foot.
“Easy for you to say.”
“There's no reason to give up, either.” Jervis said curtly. “That's why I’m here in the first place, am I not?”
He sat, arms crossed.
“Yes, but you do need to realize where I’m coming from.”
Jervis pulls out a tape measure from his pocket. He rummages some more to procure a pen as well.
Jonathan gets up without order, unbuttoning the mangled flannel curling around his shoulders. The tank top underneath did little to cover his body, but Jervis wanted something more form fitting for their purposes.
“I realize that this is the first time you've indulged yourself with a tailor.” He says as the tape snaps in his hands. Jonathan keeps his mouth tight at the all too familiar statement. Nothing fits lanky, ugly Jonathan. The scars across his body feel heavier than usual, the ghostly touch of beaks and claws tracing against his skin as Jervis measures his arms. There were no crows to torment them, but Jervis’ tongue was just as sharp. It made him reconsider why Jervis had thrust himself onto the responsibility of making sure his clothes fit.
Because he was tired of being seen with a 6 foot walking hay bale. Too gangly and foolish looking. It probably dulled the Hatter down a few pegs just being near him
, He thought.
“Really Jonathan, with your frame you would look frabjous in some sort of vest- that tied with a, a bishop sleeve or some sort.”
Jonathan caught the scrap with his measurements on it. He wasn't knowledgeable with sewing- but he understood that they were supposed to be proportionate - the notes circled in pen made his stomach sink. “Uh-huh.”
Jervis had stolen the stool and was now standing on it behind Jonathan. He pressed the tape against one shoulder and draped it taught over another. “Broad shoulders tied with a low cut shirt…” He muttered. He paused, and the milliseconds of Hatter’s hesitation was just enough for more dread to fill Jonathan’s chest cavity. None of this sounded like anything Jonathan would enjoy. The textures of Jervis’ clothes always made Jon feel like he needed to wipe his hands after. Luxurious silks and swedes, velvet and corduroy. All of those textures wrapping around his body like a snake- smooth with no substance, nothing to hold onto…
“You alright?” Jervis said. “Fine.”
Jervis huffed. “We’re almost done. Really Jonathan, I could do with more conversation.”
“What, so you berate me some more?”
Very smart to talk back to a man who could easily strangle him right now.
“Did it sound like I was?”
Now he sounded hurt, of all things. Like just being here felt like a chore. Jonathan is a chore to be with
“I’m sorry. I just thought you were just…indulging me. Forgive me if my chatter sounded disingenuous.”
His voice isn't as hard, coming out in a warm breath against the back of Jonathan’s neck.
“Indulging you? You're the one doing me a favor.”
Jervis hopped off the stool, quickly scribbling out the last bits of information before he stashes the paper in his pocket again. He flicks the tape measure around his neck like a spaghetti scarf.
“Well you know me. I have my hobbies that I need to thrust upon my unsuspecting friends.” Jervis waved his arms as he spoke for emphasis, punctuating every verb with a swift point of his finger.
“You included.”
Jonathan sat back on the stool, crossing his legs at the ankles. Words died on his tongue in an effort to find the right ones. Jervis caught his hand and held it. He was so close now Jonathan, for the first time, had to look up.
“Do you not think I regard you as a friend?”
When Jervis frowned the slightest sliver of teeth poked out. His thick eyebrows pressed together and formed a little m in the middle of the man's forehead. Jonathan sputtered.
“Well, yeah.” He wanted to look somewhere else but couldn't- stuck in a small personal hell of looking at a man who was trying his damndest to get some forgiveness. Jonathan had a small understanding that Jervis would love to get forgiveness, even if he wasn't sorry in the first place. He wondered if this was a time like that . It is.
“We are friends.” Jonathan said finally, if not to satiate his companion. “I just don’t like to be stared at so damn hard.”
“Oh.”
Jervis pulled away, hand and all. The warmth pressed against Jonathan’s hand cooled quickly, leaving him to tangle his fingers as he spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
There was a brief pause before Jervis huffed. He pinched the tips of his gloves, one by one. Each slowly exposing more of his hand until both gloves were off and stuffed into his seemingly bottomless pocket.
“What are you doing, Tetch?”
The sleeves were next, and Jonathan's mouth flapped open for a moment at the sight. Underneath the pastel silk fabric were tattoos. Thick lines with colors of purple and blue and silver. As he saw more, familiar characters cropped up between the lines. Cheshire cat and caterpillar stripes swirling up his arm into his sleeve.
“Feel.” Jervis said. He held out his wrists, palms up.
He brushed his thumb over the man’s hand. The palm had a jagged texture to it. As if strips of skin peeled away and never fully grew back. Like little stripes against the otherwise smoothed skin. He traced up,feeling a thick bump right in the middle of the man's arm. Jonathan swallowed thickly. Jervis grinned. “And don’t think these are pristine either. Here.”
A quick flip of his arm showed a jagged line where the tattoo was gone, scarring half of a white rabbit holding a trumpet next to his elbow.
“Although, this one isnt self-inflicted.”
Jonathan took several mental notes on this matter- especially how willing Jervis was to show him this.
“Why are you showing me these?” He said. He hoped he would come off as earnest rather than judgemental.
“I assume you don’t like me seeing your scars, right? So I just thought I’d show you some of mine. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Jonathan smiled, albeit weakly.
“You have a rather interesting way to hide them, at least. Was this recent? “
“Ah well. I took the cowards way out. If Batman’s aim gets any better the tattoos will lose their purpose.” He chuckled. “And uh..no. I’ve had these for a few years.”
Jervis pulled down his sleeves and neatly put his gloves back on each hand.
“But no need to dwell on that. I think I am going to take my things and leave.”
“Alright then.”
Jonathan pulled his flannel back on to hear Jervis opening up the drawer behind him.
“Do you mind? I could alter this for you.”
He thought about silky cuffs pressing against his wrists, slimily cradling the nicks and tears underneath.
“Sure.” He didn't like that one very much in the first place. It was practically falling apart, even by his standards.
“Wonderful. Well, I’ll be back in a few days.”
Jervis gathered up his coat and wrapped it around his shoulders. Jonathans shirt in a neat bundle in his arms as the smaller man trotted to the door.
“I’ll see myself out, if you’d prefer.”
Jonathan nodded, sitting on his own bed. “See you.”
Jervis left. Jonathan listened to the sound of Hatter’s shoes against the wood down the hall, the sound of the door creaking open, and then clicking shut soon after. He curled up, allowing himself some form of comfort as the pill-ridden flannel itched at him. Jonathan was unsure what to do. Wasn’t he always?
_-*-__-*-__-*-__-*-_
Jonathan had not expected Jervis to return so quickly. Three days passed between then and the moment Jonathan caught sight of Jervis scampering down the street. He was unmistakable with his bright purple overcoat and the uneven gait he had.
When he ran down to meet him- Jervis was grinning ear to ear. In his hands was a package wrapped in butcher paper tied with a bit of ribbon.
“Afternoon Mr. Lewis.” Jonathan said with a small smile on his face as he unlocked the apartment door.
“How nice to see you again, Ichabod.” Jervis chirped. The nickname had stuck around for a while, Jonathan noticed. Although typically Ichabod was used when Jervis was particularly miffed at the time.
In the empty hallway there was little reason to be calling each other by thinly veiled nicknames but they made small talk, throwing Lewis and Ichabod around as they pleased.
“Here, I want to see how it'll look on you.”
Jonathan took the package. He swore to himself he wouldn't try it on. Whatever low cut vest shirt abomination Jervis had in store for him, he wouldn't put it on his body. No matter how many Ichabods he would receive in return.
They sat in the living room. A name very loose in its description, as it was more books and paper than furniture. Jervis had perched himself on a chair along the back wall surrounded by piles of textbooks.
“I can make adjustments if need be.”
“Thanks.”
Jonathan slunk back into his room and pondered the package. There would be little excuse to get rid of it now. He was sure this was some sort of sick joke- an effort to turn the scarecrow into a proper fool. Wasn't he always?
Carefully he pulled back the ribbon and tore the paper. His eyes lit up.
“Huh.”
Inside was something he wasn't expecting. Green fabric. From the looks of it nothing glossy either, as it did not shimmer in the low light of his room. To his delight, the shirt retained that itchy quality he cared so much about. It was like Jervis had this lying around in a shed for a few winters- and he loved it.
Peeling back the layer revealed what looked to be a whole set. He snorted as he realized Jervis had trimmed the flannel shirt into a vest. Clever.
The clothes were snug around his frame- a feeling he was unused to. Pants cut off just above his ankle, rather than halfway up his calf. He smoothed down the shirt to marvel at the way it actually fit him- the unfamiliar sensation suited him well. Despite this there was a bit of unease in his heart that he could not place, and simply chalked it up to ‘general nerves’ which afflicted him frequently. The thick fabric of his new slacks grounded him in some respect- and he found comfort in the aray of textures pressed against his skin, each one varying degrees of coarseness.
Jervis knocked on the doorframe. He rocked on his heels as he peeped into the door.
“May I come in?”
The little gasp Jervis made caused Jon to feel even more uneasy.
“Oh, you're so handsome! How wonderful- frabjous even!”
Jervis clapped his hands in glee. Jonathan was taken aback. Before he could say much, Jervis grabbed his hand and pulled him to the one mirror he had. A relic left behind by the previous tenants- the two had to inch past piles of books to reach it. Jervis did not hesitate to wipe off the thick layer of dust off it’s front, even if his sleeve was left with a broad stripe of grime afterwards.
“Here- button up your vest. I want to walk you through this.”
“Walk me through?”
Jervis pulled Jonathan close, so now that both of them were seen in the mirror. There was always something a little funny about how different they both looked when they were near each other. He towered over Jervis a solid foot and a half. Not that he was thinking too much about it now.
For once in his life the man had reason to admire himself. Even with his unshaven chin and scraggly hair- he looked…handsome. He preened back a silver-red lock of hair.
“A very fine gentleman indeed.” Jervis hummed to himself. “Would you like me to discuss my process? I think you’d enjoy it.” Jonathan nodded. He couldn't stop himself from smiling.
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
The Hatter pulled out his notes once again and began to speak. Unlike his typical voice, he recited every bullet point with pauses in between for Jonathan to see what he was talking about.
“One thing that I had realized is Jonathan wears a lot of warm tones. Red-orange especially. Which is a shame because Green looks rather well on him. Just don’t tell Edward. The Brown did suit him, and it matches the man's complexion, as well as draw out the green a bit more.
“Some sort of grayish-blue for the vest. Surely the material I was given had been well loved, but mishandled. Stitching across the sides resemble the stitching on Scarecrow’s regalia. It also, in my opinion, draws the eyes upwards to the man's face.
“Any other patchwork should follow the color scheme, but ultimately should try to emulate Jonathan’s aesthetic choices in the most flattering way possible.
Jonathan was at a loss for words. His mouth in a taut line as his mind both whirred and stalled. It felt good. Really good. Every little complement Jervis spewed stuck to him like gum on a sidewalk, and Jonathan had little reason to process it at the moment.
Jervis stopped speaking.
“...Do you not like it?”
“No! No, this is…I just don't know what to say.” Jonathan sputtered. “Other than thank you.”
“It was really no trouble. I get rather bored during the summer months, and it was rather fun.”
Jonathan nodded. Hes never felt so flattered in all his life- what a stupid, kind thing this man has done for him. It almost made him forget Hatter’s other hobbies were axe murdering and taking away peoples autonomy.
Not that he minded- far from it. That unease in his heart was making it race now. He was starting to suspect something dire. “Thank you.” He said.
“Really Jonathan, you don’t need to thank me so hard. Just the fact you enjoy it is thanks enough.”
Jervis grinned- and Jonathan could see a bit of his smile in the mirror behind him. “Although, I do enjoy a bit of praise now and again. What with exceeding your expectations and all.”
“I understand I don't throw praise around often.”
“Just all the more reason to rise to the challenge.” Jervis shrugged.
The meeting ended a few hours after that. Jonathan had taken great care to preserve his outfit as he and Jervis shared conversation over tea and coffee. Jervis had brought his own, since he believed Jonathan was a proper heathen for keeping his tea in the fridge. Things felt light and easy. Conversation flowed smoothly, and any pause felt as comfortable as the shirt on his back. All the while Jonathan kept repeating words the Hatter had uttered throughout the day. Something about seeing someone so clean cut all the time complimenting him so freely made him smile stupidly- and he didn’t think to correct himself. He felt handsome. Jervis thought he was handsome- or at least was convincing enough for Jonathan to believe it. But Jervis was his friend.
The happily intrusive thoughts circled in his mind long after the Hatter had left. The rest of the day was a bit of a slurry- for he had little reason to think of much else. As he folded up his clothes for the night- he smiled. He felt like he hadn’t stopped since this afternoon. The uneasy feeling stayed, and would continue to be there for the next few days. It would grow more apparent with every thought of the Hatter. He was so lucky to have someone who cared. Who was kind to him without restraint. Just another thing he realized he needed until he had it in his hands.