Archive of Our Own

Hal puttered around the kitchen, humming a snazzy little tune that he’d once heard at a burlesque show years ago, cleaning up the dishes from last night’s dinner and thinking about what he was going to make for breakfast.

He was trying to be quiet, since Bolaire was sleeping in his chair out in the living room.  Honestly, Hal hadn’t meant to let him stay in the chair all night, but Bolaire had looked so peaceful he hadn’t had the heart to wake him and send him upstairs to bed.  He’d thought to only make Bolaire relaxed enough to get him not to be so afraid of sleeping, but that had backfired.

And no, Hal hadn’t just kept on playing in order just to watch Bolaire sleep.

That would be creepy.

And De-Nyal wasn’t just a river in Dol-Rungja.

Hal also felt honored that Bolaire was willing to fall so deeply asleep in Hal’s home.  Well, their home, as far as Hal was concerned.  Because, each day, he was more and more certain that he wanted to keep Bolaire, that he wanted him to move in permanently, that he truly wanted to spend their lives together. 

He wasn’t quite certain what entailed in that.  Marriage?  Well, Hal had come close twice and it had never worked out.  Would Bolaire even want that?  He remembered Bolaire once commenting that he’d thought Hal had, in fact, been married, and had seemed surprised when Hal had denied it.  His friend hadn’t sounded like he considered marriage to be important, so he really didn’t have anything to go on. 

Was that sort of bond all that important in their relationship? Or would just their wanting to be together be enough? 

Hal was most likely overthinking the whole thing, because it hadn’t been that long since Bolaire had become fully human.  And, as he’d said to Elodie last night, he didn’t want Bolaire to think he was courting just because of the magical accident.  So, asking that sort of question could lead to misunderstandings.  That was the very last thing Hal wanted.

After dishes were done and put away, Hal got the kettle ready, and then brought eggs and various breakfast meats out and ready to cook.  Idly, he wondered if Bolaire would like some sort of cooking lesson eventually.  It had been wonderful to see him to engaged with dinner last night, and had hope that perhaps, someday, he’d accept eating as the pleasure it could be.

There was a shuffling movement from the living room.  Ah, Bolaire must have awakened.  “I’m in here,” he called out, digging for a couple of skillets under the sink.

“Ugh.” The groan made Hal grin.  “Why did you let me sleep in that damned chair all night?  Are necks supposed to ache like this?”

Oops.  Hal hadn’t taken a crick in the neck into consideration. 

He turned from the stove.  Bolaire stood there in the entry, looking adorably rumpled, his hair flying a little wild, eyes squinting as a hand rubbed at his neck.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he explained. 

He didn’t add that he thought Bolaire had been adorable in his chair.

“While I appreciate the thought,” Bolaire said tetchily, “I think I would have preferred the wake up call over a stiff and aching neck.”

Hal stifled his laughter.  “C’mon, turn around.”

Bolaire gave him a side-eye. 

“Oh please,” Hal scoffed.  “Like I don’t know how to take care of that sort of thing.”

Bolaire thought about it for a couple of seconds, then turned his back toward Hal. 

Hal stepped up behind him, moving the mass of hair aside and placing his hands on Bolaire’s shoulders.  “Where does it hurt?”

Bolaire put his hand on the right side of his neck. 

That was where Hal dug his thumbs in. 

Hard.

Bolaire jerked forward.  “What the Shaper’s saggy ass?” he yelped.

“Stand still,” Hal admonished.  “You’ll feel better in a minute.”

“How is this supposed to feel better?” Bolaire exclaimed.  He yelped again when Hal moved his thumbs a little to the left, finding a knot there that needed to be smoothed out, and pressed again.

“Damnit, Hal!” Bolaire shouted.

Hal didn’t let that stop him from continuing the massage.  “Trust me.”

Bolaire growled, but stayed where he was.

And, true to what Hal had claimed, within a minute Bolaire was slumping forward a little, and sighing. 

“See?” Hal pointed out.  “I told you you’d feel better.”

“I will swear to anyone who asks that you have magical fingers.”  Bolaire’s growl had turned into what sounded astoundingly like a purr.

Hal…felt that purr in a very inconvenient part of his anatomy.

Hal had loved Bolaire for a long time, even before the revelation that his friend wasn’t mortal.  That truth had caused a rift between them for a short while, Hal feeling betrayed by Bolaire not confiding in him.  He’d taken it out on Bolaire, but his friend had accepted it, even though it had been painfully obvious how it was affecting him.

They’d finally managed to talk about it, got things out in the open, and promised each other there would be no more lies.  They’d both kept to that, and Hal had been grateful to have his friend back at his side.

And Hal’s feelings toward Bolaire had only grown.

The problem was, Hal was, in fact, lying to Bolaire.  Oh, not straight-up lying, but a very large lie of omission.  He hadn’t admitted how he truly felt; while he’d been certain that Bolaire felt pretty much the same way – just that speech alone the night Bolaire had admitted his truth had been enough to confirm that if there hadn’t been other signs as well – he hadn’t wanted to pressure his dear friend into something that Bolaire might not want.  Besides, Hal knew just how much touch could be uncomfortable to him, and the sense of it had come during that selfsame confession.

Then there had been the accident that had turned Bolaire from mask to mortal.

And now, Hal didn’t want Bolaire to think he was just attracted to this new body. 

He was…he couldn’t lie to himself about that.  What that artifact had done with transforming his friend into a mortal had created someone Hal very much desired.  All pale skin and bright hair and smiling eyes and the slim yet muscled body…it was as if that spell had also read Hal’s own mind and had fashioned the perfect person for him. 

Plus, he was the perfect height so that Hal didn’t have to lean over to kiss him on the forehead.

But the very last thing he wanted was for Bolaire to think that being mortal was the only reason that Hal felt that way. 

That Hal loved him.

He didn’t want to wreck this by moving far too fast.

So, Hal ruthlessly tamped down on the physical reaction and kept up the massage. 

“How does that feel now?” he inquired.

Bolaire sighed.  “Much better.  Thank you, darling.”  His head was hanging now, hair tucked over his shoulders, trusting Hal to finish what he was doing.

Eventually, Hal removed his hands – not without gently running his fingers across the nape of Bolaire’s neck because he couldn’t help himself – and stepped back.  Bolaire lifted his head, flexed his neck a little, and sighed.  “I’m still a little irritated that you didn’t wake me,” he said, turning around.

“That’s within your right.  However, you needed the rest, and I don’t regret a single thing. “  He’d also slept in his own chair last night, so there was that.

“I suppose I should have changed clothes before sitting down, then.  And showered.”

“Well, I knew you wanted to do that, so I have the shower ready for you this morning.  I put in a couple of clean towels, and I even dug you out some clean clothes to wear.”  He’d been up pretty early, having gotten a very good night’s sleep indeed.  “We’re either going to have to go to your place to pick up more things for you, or go shopping at some point.  While I can certainly appreciate you wearing my clothes, they don’t quite suit you.”

“You’re correct about that.  I’ll think about it.”

“Sounds good.  Oh, I also put out my shaving cream on the sink for you.  Did you want me to shave you again, or did you want to do it yourself?”  Hal really wanted Bolaire to ask him to help, but he was going to leave that decision up to the person who needed the shave. 

“I need to learn how to do it at some point,” Bolaire sighed.  “May as well start today.”

Hal was a little disappointed, but didn’t let it show.  “While you’re getting cleaned up, I’ll start breakfast.”

“All right.”  Bolaire turned to leave, then stopped.  He had a slight, teasing smile on his face.  “And thank you for fixing the damage you did by allowing me to sleep in that chair.”

Hal fondly rolled his eyes.  “You’re welcome.”

Bolaire actually winked on his way out.

Damnit, why did he have to be so cute?

Hal glanced at the skillets he’d set on the stove.  He had an idea he wanted to try; it had only been a couple of days since Bolaire’s change, but Hal thought he might be ready to expand his diet a little.  There would, of course, be eggs…but perhaps some cheese on them?  Or omelets with cheese and mushrooms?

No, not mushrooms.  Not yet.  Some people reacted badly to them, and the last thing Hal wanted was to discover some sort of allergy by accident.  Eventually, they’d have to experiment with various things, but this morning was not the time.

Good grief, learning the eating habits of a newly made mortal was tough work. 

Hal checked for various sorts of breakfast meat, and found that he had bacon, sausage, and ham.  He could cook a little of each, let Bolaire choose what he enjoyed.  He also had fruit…would that be too much? 

Hal worried his upper lip with his tusk.  Was he overthinking this?  Was he making too much of a big deal over a simple meal?

He leaned onto the counter, weighing his options.  Hal could either be putting too much into this, or it was the right way to go.  He wanted Bolaire to make his own decisions, but was offering too much going in the wrong direction?

No. 

He couldn’t second-guess himself.  He was going to go with his plan, to make what he wanted, and to give Bolaire a breakfast taste test, hoping that he would find something he would find tasty. 

As he was slicing things up, he heard the shower turn on upstairs.  Hal couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Bolaire felt that comfortable.  Of course, he couldn’t allow himself to wonder certain things, because that way lay madness and embarrassing bulges in his trousers, but it made him happy that Bolaire was there. 

Maybe he should make biscuits…

No, stop that.

Toast would be fine.

He really needed to stop overthinking things.

Sighing, he started cooking, letting  the small task distract him from everything going through his mind.

Hal was just getting the ham out of its skillet when he heard the door open, and the unmistakable soft clanking of armor entering the home. 

“I’m in the kitchen,” he called out, knowing just who had come in.

And he congratulated himself on his instincts when Azune stepped into the room.  “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hal greeted in return.  He dropped a towel that had been especially made for the purpose of absorbing grease over the meat.  “What brings you by this morning?”

“Just checking in,” Azune answered.  “After yesterday, I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

Hal flashed him a grin.  “If you count Bolaire bitching about me letting him sleep in his chair all night as okay, then everything is great.”

Azune laughed.  “If he’s his usual snarky self, then yes.”  He was quiet for a second, then added, “And how about you?”

“Me?” Hal should have expected that.  He considered his words for a moment.  “Well, I mean besides the fact that I keep overthinking things?”

“You should really stop doing that.”

“Said the kettle to the pot.” 

“Yes, yes…I hear you.”  Azune wasn’t upset at Hal calling him out a little.  “I could say that’s understandable because we’re in unknown territory.  However, this is still Bolaire we’re talking about.  I doubt you’d do anything to make him upset if you mess up.”

Hal wasn’t so sure about that, but wasn’t going to admit as such. He decided to change the subject.  “Did you come out of your way to stop by?”

“Not at all.”  Azune didn’t seem to mind about the flip.  “In fact, there’s a traveling carnival coming into town, and Lord Einfasen sent me out to meet them and to make certain they aren’t doing anything illegal.”  His face twisted into serious distaste at the notion.  “If I find anything I have to turf them out, and I really don’t want to do that.”

Hal could understand.  The sanctions on certain magicks within Dol-Makjar hadn’t made any sense to him, beyond it being some sort of a power play…although, now that he was part of a group attempting to destabilize the Sundered Houses, the hints and whispers that have come to their collective ears have changed Hal’s mind.  None of them knew just what those whispers meant as yet, but Hal didn’t doubt they would eventually.

A carnival though…

“You know,” Hal mused, flipping the sausage patties, “a carnival sounds like the perfect family day out.”  He knew that definitely Shadia would enjoy it, as would Hero.  Perhaps Elodie as well, as a step away from work…

Azune’s face turned shrewd.  “Or a first date?”

Hal sighed.  “I might call it that in my head, but I’m going to say to you the same thing I told Elodie when she made pretty much the same intimation: It’s too early.  I don’t want Bolaire to think I’m only making a move because he’s now human.  I don’t want him to doubt me for one single second.”

“All right, I can see your point.” He held his hands up in surrender.  “But don’t you think you need to start somewhere?”

Azune was correct.  However…“But I’m not sure a carnival is a good place, though.  Would Bolaire even want to go to one?  I don’t know if a crowd like that would be something he’d want to be around right now.”

“He did just fine on the way home yesterday,” Azune argued.

“But even he said it was because he was upset and angry about what happened at the Archanade.”  He held up a hand to keep Azune from making further argument.  “We can see what happens tonight, when we go to the Seven Stars. If he can stand to be out in public.”  He would hate to not include Bolaire in any family outing, but he would respect whatever decision his friend would make.

“I have to take a step back,” Hal went on.  “I can’t lead in this.  It’s all up to Bolaire.  He’s the one going to know his boundaries, not me.  I will accept whatever decision he makes when it comes to his own personal agency.  I will follow wherever he wants to go, and I will support him no matter what.”

Azune was looking at him expressionlessly, and Hal felt as if the younger man was trying to read his thoughts.  He felt the urge to squirm a little, but held his ground.

He needed to check the sausage, but he felt it was important to keep his attention on Azune.  He wasn’t exactly sure when Azune’s good opinion started meaning something to him, but Hal figured it must have been around the time of young man’s eighteenth birthday.

Then Azune nodded.  “That is pretty much the speech I would have expected from you.  However, I just don’t think Bolaire is as delicate as you may believe.  He’s tough; he’s just unsure of himself.  Don’t accidentally take that away from him, Hal.”

Hal considered Azune’s words.  He certainly would never do any such thing.  He was determined that Bolaire should have free will, but was Azune correct?  Could he perhaps be in some sort of danger of robbing Bolaire of the strength that Hal knew he had? 

After all, his dearest friend had made a life for himself when he’d just had a single purpose before.

Well, two: god-killing mask and fighting in a lot of wars that made Hal wish he could go back in time and rescue Bolaire from.

Sure, there were things about Bolaire carving out his own existence that still made Hal a little ill, like the body snatching.  However, Bolaire had been working on that before the magical change, so there was credit in that.

Bolaire was, quite honestly, one of the strongest people Hal knew.  There was no way he would deliberately take that vital part from him.  He wouldn’t be the Bolaire Lathalia that Hal loved if that occurred.

He cleared his throat.  “I hope, if you see that happening, you’ll let me know.”

“I will.”  Azune clapped him on the shoulder.  “Now, is there anything I can do to…why are you making this enormous breakfast?”

Hal chuckled.  He explained about creating a tasting menu for Bolaire, to give him choices on what he’d like and dislike.  “If you have time to help, you can start whipping the eggs.”  He directed Azune to one of the larger mixing bowls, then handed over the eggs and cheese, making certain to add the grater.  “If you want to stay to eat, help yourself to the eggs as well.”

“I’ve already eaten.”  Azune washed his hands then began cracking eggs into the glass bowl.  “However, I’m not averse to helping out.”

That was Azune, needing to help. 

Hal appreciated him.

“We’ll put the eggs on when we hear the shower turning off.”  Already, the water had been running a little longer than Hal had thought it would.  He was aware of Bolaire’s body issues, which were something that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, so he was a little surprised. 

Then he considered the mass of hair that Bolaire was dealing with. 

All right, the shower might be taking longer for that reason…

**********

Bolaire stood in the shower, letting the water hit his neck and shoulders, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the water as it soaked his hair and ran down his back and chest, ass and dick, and then his legs and into the tub. 

It felt…sensual.

Oh, not in the most-used connotation of the word, in that he didn’t find it arousing.  This was more the sensation of the water on his skin, rivulets drawing warm lines across his new body, relaxing muscles and making him feel calm and actually happy.

For maybe the first time since he was changed into a mortal, Bolaire felt mostly  comfortable in his skin.

Before, he’d rushed through cleaning his stolen bodies, not wanting to be reminded that those people weren’t him, weren’t the mask that had been walking that sack of skin and organs around.  He hadn’t even been able to feel the water most of the time, only wanting to make certain there wasn’t any telltale scent of decay following him around, using strongly scented soaps and colognes to aid with that.

But this…

This was him.  His new self.  And he could actually feel the water and understand why mortals appreciated such an activity as showering.

He still wasn’t quite as comfortable looking at his body, though.

Bolaire wondered if he ever truly would be.  If this was something he would, someday, get used to.  He found himself hoping so; however, how that would work he had no idea.

And then, he thought of Hal.

Hal, who’d wanted Bolaire to get a good nights’ sleep so he’d left him in his chair instead of getting him to bed.  Who’d helped with the pain in Bolaire’s neck by giving him a massage.

Bolaire had given massages himself, but had never received one.  After all, it was just one more thing he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate, with his senses dulled the way they had been.  He’d done a few things that he’d not been able to enjoy, for the sake of the cover he’d built up around himself. 

But now, there was a chance that…

No, he couldn’t build any sort of hope yet. 

But his mind went back to the massage that Hal had given him, and how it had made him feel.

Bolaire had felt cared for, and the sensation of Hal’s strong and callused fingers on his neck had been lovely.

Yet it had been the soft stroke against the nape of this neck that had given Bolaire something to consider.

Because, in that second, Bolaire realized that, if he was ever going to feel safe enough to be touched in a sexual way, it would be with Hal.

He just wasn’t ready for that.

Raising his head, he flipped his hair back and let the stream soak through the strands.  Oh, that felt wonderful as well.  Hal had left out two different types of shampoo for him: one that smelled of watermelon, and the other of lavender.  Before getting into the shower, he’d smelled them both, deciding that he was pleased with the watermelon scent.

He’d never had to use shampoo before and the watermelon smelt wonderful.

Bolaire poured what he assumed was a healthy amount into his hand, then proceeded to comb it through his hair.  Oh, that was nice.  He experimented and scrubbed his nails against his scalp; hm…yes.  He continued to scritch down to his neck, liking that quite a lot. 

The shampoo lathered up in his hair, some of it running down his face…

Well. Shit!

All right, rule one:  do not get shampoo in his eyes.  Fuck, that stung!

Hal could have warned him about that!

He tilted his head back and let the water rinse the shampoo out, splashing some of the liquid into his eyes to get rid of the sting.  That seemed to help, but his eyes felt a little gritty for a bit afterward, and he couldn’t help but rub at them.

After that, Bolaire decided it was time to wrap things up, so he soaped himself down thoroughly, taking glances at small bits of his body rather than pay attention to the whole. 

There was the red hair on his legs and arms and chest – and other bits that he was aware of but not actually looking at right now even as he washed them. 

He had a mole.  It was just on the inside of his upper left arm.  There was also a couple more in other areas. Bolaire wondered what exactly caused moles to appear since mortals didn’t seem to have any control over them.

Was his navel supposed to look like that?  He’d seen them before, but his was poking out instead of being sunken into his stomach.  Was that going to cause an issue later?

He was vaguely ticklish behind his left knee.  Hm.  He’d never experienced being ticklish before even though he knew what it was.  He’d once caught Hero in a place near her ribs that had had her giggling for a full minute, and that was how he’d learned about that particular sensitivity. 

After he was done, he rinsed the soap off, thinking about what he’d seen in his quick examination.

He did still feel vaguely repulsed, but he could hope that would end with time.

The way Hal kept looking at him, Bolaire felt his darling friend could be the one to turn that around, as well.  

If it worked that way.  Bolaire didn’t know.

Turning the water off, Bolaire grabbed one of the towels from the rack near the bath and dried himself; then stepped out of the tub…to realize that his hair was still rather sopping, water dripping all over himself.  Sighing, he ran the towel through it, rubbing vigorously; then, in a burst of inspiration, he flipped his head forward then wrapped the towel around his hair, twisting it up into a makeshift headdress that would keep the water off his body.

He’d seen Thaisha do that once, and apparently it was a really good idea.

Bolaire used the second towel that Hal had provided to finish drying himself off, then took an edge to clear the mirror of the steam that had built up in the bathroom.  His new face stared out at him; it looked a bit different with his hair hidden, his cheekbones more pronounced and his eyes even bluer.  He noticed that he completely forgot to remove the earrings he’d borrowed from Shadia, but figured it wouldn’t matter all that much.  He could tell they were made of materials not likely to rust or anything. 

He did still resemble himself.  Bolaire was grateful for that.  It made dealing with his new state a little easier.  He rubbed his chin, feeling the newly sprouted whiskers there; sighing, Bolaire reached for the shaving cream that Hal had left for him while manifesting a glass straight razor to use.

He took his first time shaving himself slowly and carefully, making the same movements with the razor that he’d seen Hal use yesterday morning.  Doing it on his own felt distinctly different, and he was beginning to wish he’d asked Hal to help him again.

No.

This was his body now.  He needed to learn how to take care of it.

After he was done, the razor dissipated, and the remaining shaving cream wiped away, Bolaire congratulated himself on a job well done.  He hadn’t nicked himself or missed any wayward whiskers.

Apparently, Hal was a very good teacher indeed.

His teeth were next, which was also so vert new to him.  Hal had pointed out that, if he wanted to keep his smile, he’d need decent dental hygiene. 

He took a moment to relieve himself – trying to ignore how much he hated it – then washed his hands.  Bolaire had started doing that almost from the first time he’d had to take care of a specific bodily function, not liking the idea of that being on his hands.  When he’d learned that the vast majority of people did the same, he’d felt gratified. Even though he wore gloves most of the time, it had been a gross thought that no one took care of basic sanitation but himself.

Then there had been an archivist trainee he’d caught not washing up after using the toilet.  Bolaire had marched him right back into the bathroom, and had lectured him for a full ten minutes about sanitary conditions around unknown artifacts and how it was just respectful to clean up after using the facilities and not spread nastiness amongst the other people who would be unawares of just how uncaring he was about their physical agency.

Bolaire had then threatened his job…and his ability to ever use the toilet again. 

Needless to say, that archivist left soon after.

Bolaire couldn’t be upset about that.

Opening the door, he peeked his head around to make sure the hallway was clear.  The smell of cooking food wafted up from downstairs, making his stomach grumble. 

Yes, he understood that biological process behind warning a body that they needed to eat, but did it have to be so obnoxiously loud?

Bolaire made a dash for his bedroom wearing nothing but a couple of towels.  He shut the door, then made his way to the bed, where Hal had laid out something for him to wear.  His friend was correct; Bolaire really needed to either fetch more clothing from his flat, or invest in a few new things for his wardrobe.

He was leaning toward new clothes.  This was, after all, a new Bolaire Lathalia.  His old style was far more useful to keep his bodies together when they started falling apart and, as he’d discovered, that didn’t necessarily translate to his new body, feeling binding and irritating to his skin. 

Perhaps it was time to try something a little different.

His stomach told him to stop lollygagging and get dressed, so he did.  The linen shirt today was a rich blue, the trousers a darker shade, and the socks were black.  This felt a little more like himself, but not quite, but they would certainly do.

Bolaire sat at the vanity, unwound his hair, and got to work in putting it into some semblance of order.  This he could do, just from practice on his wig, and he soon had the tangles brushed out.  The curls were a little looser than before, but that was most likely because of the water that was still dampening it.

He made a mental note to ask Hal if there was something that Thaisha used to keep her hair from tangling like this.  Bolaire was willing to bet there was and, if Hal didn’t know, then Elodie might have a suggestion.

It was good to know women who knew what they were doing.

Heading downstairs, he heard voices; he recognized both Hal and Azune, just as Azune came from the kitchen with plates in hand.  “Good morning,” he greeted.

Azune put the plates down on the table, smiling as he met Bolaire’s eyes.  “Good morning.  Hope you’re hungry; Hal went all out.”

“I did not,” Hal sighed, also exiting the kitchen with a couple more plates, which he also set onto the table.  “I thought you might like to try a few things, see what tastes good to you.”

“I like that idea,” Bolaire agreed.  He was ready to move on to other foods; although he wasn’t quite at the point of enjoying eating, he understood he would need to take care of himself. 

He turned to Azune.  “And to what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you this morning?  Shouldn’t you be working?”  Bolaire said it with laughter in his voice.

Azune shrugged.  “I can’t stop by to visit friends?”

“He really helped me with breakfast,” Hal pointed out. 

“You let him put you to work?” Bolaire inquired, laughing. He knew it was more than likely that Azune volunteered; however, he knew he could tease Azune about it and the young man go along with it.

“I’m a pushover for an old man struggling,” Azune was grinning fit to burst.

“Hey!” Hal squawked.

Bolaire snorted while Azune laughed.  Hal stood there, hands on hips, glaring at both of them. 

The glare didn’t last long; Hal’s stern expression faded into fondness.  “The pair of you, ganging up on me…”

“Now that I have done my duty by breakfast,” Azune chuckled, “I need to head out.  I’ve hidden from my job long enough.”

“You’re playing truant from your employment?” Bolaire clasped his chest with his hand overdramatically.  “Oh, the shame that we’re harboring a malingerer!”

Azune’s sunset eyes were crinkled in amusement.  “See you both at the Seven Stars tonight?”

It was obvious that Hal was going to let Bolaire answer that.  He was grateful for the thoughtfulness.  “We should be there.”

“See you then.  Enjoy your breakfast.”  With that, Azune gave them a sloppy salute and left, but before he closed the door Bolaire could hear him whistling something that sounded almost like what could have come out of a calliope, a jaunty circus tune that might have been accompanied by tumbling acrobats.

‘Someone seems to be in a good mood today,” Bolaire observed.  He glanced down at the table, taking in what had been laid out.

There were eggs, and toast, and three sorts of breakfast meats.  And was there cheese on the eggs?  That looked quite tasty.  Steaming tea in mugs were at both his and Hal’s places.

Bolaire’s stomach made that idiotic grumbling again.

“It’s gratifying to know that my food makes you hungry,” Hal replied, taking his seat. 

Bolaire joined him at the table.  “I just don’t know how anyone can stand these noises bodies make.  I’ll always maintain it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s just the body’s way of warning you that you need to eat.”  Hal picked up his fork.

“I know.  I’m sure I’ll accept it at some point since I don’t have much of a choice.”  Besides, he really did want to be around as long as he possibly could.  And, staying for Hal was his number one goal.

He took a forkful of eggs.  Yes, there was cheese, and it added a sharp contrast to the eggs.  It was quite a good addition.

“I was going to use mushrooms in the eggs as well,” Hal said, taking a bite himself.  “But, there’s one thing we haven’t been taking into consideration,” he added, after chewing and swallowing.  “The possibility of food allergies.”

Of course, intellectually Bolaire knew that certain people  had strange reactions to certain things.  It hadn’t been something he’d ever had to worry about.

“Well,” he drawled, “I would like to think this mysterious artifact would have made my new body perfect.”  Bolaire struck a pose, one that he’d seen used before to denote the notion that the person doing it thought they were sexually desirable.

Wait…was Hal blushing?

Clearing his throat, Hal replied, “Uh…sure.  Yes.  But we can’t be sure an ancient magic spell knows about various sorts of allergies.”  He took a drink of his tea in what had to have been an attempt to hide his reaction.

There was that warm feeling in Bolaire’s chest again.  He couldn’t help but be a bit gleeful that he’d been the one to do that to Hal, to make him blush.  It wasn’t the first time, but this had been over a joke about being perfect.

Did Hal think Bolaire was perfect?

That…needed some thought.  Because Bolaire was hardly any such thing.

Hal motioned toward breakfast with his mug.  “Help yourself.  I’m sure I’ll eat whatever you don’t.”

The subject was then changed.

Not that Bolaire would forget. 

Hal was too precious to him for that.

Still, he could indulge his dearest friend since he’d gone to so much trouble…even if he’s had Azune helping.

It was an excellent idea, though.  But then, Hal had quite a few of those.

Bolaire decided on the ham, first.  It had been cut into easy to fork up pieces, so he indulged. 

He smelled it first.  He’d been around ham before, but he hadn’t really noticed what sort of scent it had.  It did smell enticing, so Bolaire popped it into his mouth.

He chewed thoughtfully.

Despite the need not to really eat before his change, Bolaire was very much aware how ham was prepared, so he knew a bit about smoking and curing meat.  So he was expecting the salt and the smoky flavor. 

But he hadn’t been the slight sweetness and meatiness of it.  It was…good.  He tilted his head as he swallowed.  Yes, very good. 

So good he took another piece.

“I take it you like it?” Hal inquired.

“Yes, I must say I do,” he answered after he’d chewed and swallowed his second piece.  He eyed the other two plates.  “Let’s do the sausage next.”

He first ate a bite of egg, which had Hal asking in disbelief, “Are you cleansing your palette?”

That had been exactly his intention.  “Of course!  One must get the full experience!”  He put on his best haughty expression.

Hal laughed, a full-on belly laugh that had his leaning back in his chair.  Bolaire grinned in triumph at causing that.

Then he went back to breakfast.

He speared a piece of sausage with his fork, popping it into his mouth.  Hm…there was obviously pepper and spices.  It tasted good, but…there was something about it that he didn’t care for.

Then he had it.

“Texture,” he said. 

There was something…he didn’t care for the way it felt in his mouth.  That was…interesting.

Hal chuckled.  “You and Hero and texture.”

“The soup had been different,’ Bolaire clarified.  “I enjoyed it with and without the bread.  But this…I cannot describe it.  The taste is fine, but it just doesn’t fit my mouth?  If that makes sense?”  He was at a loss for words to describe it, which was frustrating.  Usually Bolaire was fairly good at getting his message across.

“No, I get it,” Hal answered.  “There are people out there who feel that way about certain foods, so you’re not alone in thinking that.”

Bolaire was grateful that Hal understood.  “So, I believe sausage is off the table, so to speak.”

“It’s a good thing I like it then.”  He said cheekily, pulling the plate of sausage over to him.  “Now, there’s just the bacon.”

Bolaire pointedly ate another bite of egg, just to see Hal’s expression.

Yes, the grin and the head shake were definitely worth it. 

Bolaire knew from seeing bacon eaten before – by Hal and the girls actually – that one used their fingers.  Usually he wasn’t very keen on eating barehanded, but he was willing to make the attempt.

The bacon smelled very good.  It was stronger than the ham, and of course it looked different, lines of meat separated by lines of fat that didn’t look like it should be appetizing but apparently was, if people’s enjoyment were any indication.

Bolaire took a bite.

“This is my favorite,” he declared, waving his partially eaten piece of bacon in Hal’s direction.  “It shouldn’t taste this good, but it does.”

Hal was laughing in delight.  “Welcome to the realm of bacon enjoyers everywhere.”

He held out his mug, and Bolaire picked his own up and clinked the ceramic in a toast.

Then he finished his piece of bacon.

And went back for a second. 

He almost grabbed a third but, as Hal had only made four pieces, Bolaire didn’t want to be greedy.

Conversation petered out as breakfast went on.  Bolaire couldn’t believe he was beginning to enjoy actual eating.  Yes, the consequences were gross, but perhaps he could get used to that if it meant he could like food. 

Being mortal had its perks, he supposed.

Like the man sitting opposite him.

Bolaire needed to stop thinking like that.  Hal wasn’t some sort of prize he’d earned in an accident; he was Bolaire’s second chance. 

As they were finishing up, Hal said into the rather comfortable silence, “Have you given any thought about whether you wanted to collect some things from your flat, or go shopping?”

“To be honest,” Bolaire answered, dabbing his mouth with his napkin, “not really.  Well, anymore than I already have before you asked me earlier.”  He leaned back in his chair.  “I do understand that people know me as that Bolaire Lathalia, and they’re used to it.  Of course, my previous wardrobe was created to hide a lot of sins, as it were.”

Hal nodded.  “It’s a very singular style.  Although from what you’ve made known, it’s not quite what you want anymore.”

“No, not as it stands.”  He’d been clear about how it felt against his new skin: harsh and constricting.  “So, I am leaning toward some new things.  Perhaps creating a new style for a new body would be the way to go.  And then, perhaps, modify my old one to fit myself better.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Hal was pleased by that decision.  “Though that does mean getting out and shopping.”

“It’s not going to be comfortable.”  Bolaire had to be truthful about this.  Hal wouldn’t accept anything less, and would know if he was brushing over things.  “But there comes a time when I take that next step into reclaiming my life.  I understand in my head that I’m making a mountain out of the proverbial molehill; but my emotions want to freak out a little.”  He shrugged.  “It’s frustrating.  I don’t like it.  I need to get a grip and simply begin living again.  I cannot stay in the house all day, every day.”

It was a pretty speech.  And Bolaire believed in it.  But there was still that part of him that dreaded being out in public, although it was rubbish.  And he wanted to show those rogue emotions what for.

“And when you decide to go,” Hal said, “you won’t be alone.”  He grinned slyly.  “Besides, you’ll need someone to come along and give their opinion.”

“I’d better send a note round to Elodie then.”  Bolaire smirked.

Hal grinned and pointed a finger.  “You.”

He might have been teasing, but Bolaire wanted to go out, to spend time with Hal.  Azune had been an excellent companion yesterday, but it was Hal Bolaire had really wanted to accompany him.  It had been too dangerous for his dear friend, though, with Lady Cormoray on the prowl.  At least Azune had an excuse to be escorting Bolaire everywhere.

There was a part of him that was looking forward to spending time just shopping.  Bolaire had always loved going to the Ogrimok Marketplace and simply perusing the wares on display, and would often pick up various bits of clothing that he liked.  Not everything he owned had been perfectly tailored; after all, he’d had to adjust to slight changes in the various bodies he’d been stuck to.

Yes, that single kernel of fear was there, but wasn’t it about time he got over that?  After all, it was no way to live the new life he’d been given.

“Why don’t we go today?” he suggested.  “There’s no time like the present.”

Hal blinked in surprise.  “Are you sure?”  He held up a hand, as if he believed Bolaire was going to argue with him and wanted to forestall that.  “I’m not saying we can’t, because I would love nothing more than to spend the day shopping with you, but I want you to be comfortable going.”

“Well, I don’t know about being entirely comfortable,” Bolaire admitted.  “But I need to start getting out more, and this is a good opportunity to do it.  I cannot keep feeling self-conscious just because I’m not…well, not recognizable, that I don’t stand out anymore.”

“And sometimes,” Hal pointed out, “standing out isn’t what you want to do.  You need to be forgettable.”

Which was true.  However, Bolaire had certain things he could do to blend in when he had to.  He was simply a little shocked that this hadn’t occurred to him before.  He hadn’t ever been upset about changing his features if necessary. 

“All right,” Hal accepted.  “But you will promise me that, if you feel things spiraling out of control, you’ll tell me.”

“You don’t need to worry, darling. I will definitely make you aware if things get too much for me.  But I have to try, or else the doubt will just get heavier and heavier and I won’t be able to get anything of my life back.”

He could see that Hal was concerned, but was willing to go along with whatever Bolaire wanted.  He was grateful that his friend was trusting him to know his own mind.

“We can also pick up groceries while we’re there,” Hal replied.  “I’d like to make pancakes tomorrow morning.”

Another food that Bolaire hadn’t tried as yet.  “Sounds lovely.  I look forward to it.”

**********

Their coach dropped them off at their destination.

Hal stepped out onto the street, his shopping bags looped over one arm, the other held out for Bolaire to take if he was so inclined. 

He was, as he too descended from the coach.  Bolaire looped his arm through Hal’s, smiling up at him.  Hal could tell he was nervous, but was willingly walking out into the pedestrians rambling Sir Ogrimok’s Marketplace.

Hal loved the Marketplace.  Well, not as much since the Chamber of Lord’s Advisory had banned magic from the area, as that had pretty much cut down the number of buskers that had made their living on the street corners of the market.  It removed a level of joy from the place, and Hal missed it.

Bolaire leaned close as they meandered past the various booths and shops that lined the Marketplace.  It had originally been a place where the Orcs could show off their weapons and creations of war; yes, there were still so many places that dealt in such things.  However, they now existed side-by-side with clothiers and foodstuffs and book stalls and various other shops, making it more of a melting pot than it ever had been in the past.

“How are you doing?” Hal murmured in concern.  The very last thing he wanted was to have Bolaire get spooked or any such thing.

“Quit worrying,” Bolaire murmured back.  It calmed Hal’s hyperawareness of his companion that he sounded almost amused by the question.  “It’s tolerable.  And I want new clothing.”

Hal chuckled.  “Then new clothing it is.  You have anything in mind?”

Bolaire was quiet for a few moments.  “Something that strikes my fancy.  And I think I’d prefer to go to shops that I haven’t really visited before.”

Well, that was vague.  But really, Hal should have expected it.  “I’m at your mercy.”

“Oh darling,” Bolaire gave a low laugh that sounded like a promise.  “You have no idea what you just said to me.”

It wasn’t meant as a sexual remark, but Hal’s body certainly wanted to take it that way.

He mentally shook it off.  Get control of yourself, Fang.

They passed a couple of shops that didn’t seem to strike Bolaire’s fancy, but Hal could see why: they catered more to the younger set, and that wouldn’t fit into Bolaire’s aesthetic at all. 

However, at the third, Bolaire tugged lightly at Hal’s arm and together they entered.

It was one of the smaller shops, Hal believed.  There were racks of clothing, men’s and women’s, separated onto opposite sides of the clothier’s.  Hal could immediately see what Bolaire had noticed: this place was a little more upscale, and most likely catered to a more refined clientele. 

Just what Bolaire fancied.

“Good afternoon.”

They both turned, and behind them was a half Orc in a fashionable suit, smiling around his blunted tusks.  His dark eyes was regarding them shrewdly. 

“Are you gentlemen looking for anything in particular?” he inquired.

Bolaire stepped away from Hal and, for the first time since they’d left the house, his friend appeared to be in his element, any uncertainty gone.  “I have had a recent change in life, and I think a new wardrobe is in order.”

Hal was impressed.  But then, Bolaire had always had that uncanny ability to shmooze with people.  It was one the reasons his galas were always such a rousing success.

This clothier may have been a little discerning in the beginning, but the moment Bolaire communicated what he wanted, that vanished, and he began to look genuinely happy.  “I do hope we have what you’re looking for.”

“From what little I can see so far, I believe you will.”

The half Orc considered.  “If you don’t mind me saying so, with your complexion I would suggest jewel-tone colors: reds, greens, blues…perhaps darker pinks and purples.”

Bolaire beamed.  “Please, I would like your professional opinion.”  He gave a nod.  “Bolaire Lathalia.”

The half Orc nodded back.  “Corza Claw.”

“A pleasure, Master Claw.  Now, please show me what you have in mind.”

And they were off, Hal trailing bemusedly behind. 

He tuned out a lot of their conversation, just content to watch his friend – his love – paying close attention to what Master Claw was saying, pointing out colors and fabrics and styles that had either Bolaire agreeing or disagreeing…all in complete politeness. 

Bolaire was in his element, talking clothes and making his own opinions known.  Hal might not have really been paying attention to a lot of what they were talking about, but he knew he was seeing Bolaire as back to being himself as he’d done in the last days since the change.

It eased his heart in a way that made him want to weep.

If taking Bolaire shopping had been the way to get him to relax into himself, Hal would have carried him off to the Marketplace earlier.  Fuck meeting with Amariya Cormoray…Hal would have convinced Bolaire to come with him to get a new wardrobe yesterday.

“We may need to take some measurements,” Master Claw’s voice broke into Hal’s reverie.

“I have a request to make on that,” Bolaire answered smoothly, although Hal could see the skin around his eyes tighten.  “I have a certain…aversion…being touched by strangers.  May my friend do the measurements?”

Master Claw didn’t even blink.  “Of course!  I have two clients who feel the same and I have always made concessions for them.”

That tension left Bolaire’s face.  “Thank you for making allowances.”

Master Claw waved that off.  “No need to thank me, Master Lathalia.  I want nothing more than to make my customers happy.”

Hal knew at that moment that this shop would become a frequent stop for clothing.  Bolaire would definitely be recommending this place to others.

As would Hal.

Hal stepped forward.  “Can you show me what needs to be done?”

“Absolutely.”  He pulled a tape measure from his pocket. 

Master Claw took him through it.  Hal was at least knowledgeable about measuring costumes, and this was exactly the same. 

“Have you done such things before?” Master Claw caught on pretty easily that Hal knew what he was doing.  “Master…”

Hal had suddenly realized that he hadn’t introduced himself.  “Fang.  Halandil Fang.”

That had Master Claw smiling in surprise.  “Of the Hallowed Round?”

“Indeed.” Hal was getting a little more used to being recognized.

“A pleasure, Sir.  But of course you would be familiar with costuming.” 

“Costuming yes…but clothing of this caliber? Not at all.  So I’m counting on you to talk me through this.”

“I will be happy to.  Please, gentlemen…come this way.”

At the rear of the shop was a bank of three mirrors.  Bolaire immediately stepped in front of them, and Hal didn’t miss his glimpse into the mirrors. 

Bolaire had seen himself in the mirror at home, but this had to be giving him a new perspective, standing there in Hal’s borrowed clothing with his hair carefully braided and his sleeves rolled up and hands bare and so much skin on display…

It was just a wee bit jarring.

However, Bolaire turned his back to the mirrors, giving Hal a tiny smirk.  “I am in your hands, Hal.”

Hal shorted.  He had no choice but to repeat, “Oh, darling, you have no idea what you just said to me.”

Bolaire blushed as he cackled that familiar, wheezy laugh.  “Touche.”

Taking the measurements didn’t take a lot of time, but it made Hal very much aware of how close he was to certain bits of Bolaire’s anatomy.  He was taking them over Bolaire’s clothes, so there was no real skin-to-skin contact…until he got to the bare wrists.

They were just as soft and warm as the rest of the small amount of flesh that Hal had managed to touch.

“Perfect,” the shopkeeper exclaimed.  He’d been writing what Hal was telling him in a little notebook.  “Now, we can collect a few things and see how they look.”

He didn’t seem to have noticed Hal’s discomfiture, which Hal was pitifully grateful for.

Within ten minutes, Master Claw was rather motioning Bolaire toward a fitting room, handing a rather tall stack of various items over to try on.  Hal was once again relegated to follower, which he did happily.  It gave him time to get his emotions under control, because this sort of inappropriateness just wasn’t called for.

Not right now, at any rate.

And, perhaps, not ever.  It would be entirely up to Bolaire.

Once Bolaire was ensconced within the changing room, Master Claw joined him in waiting for the fashion show.  “Permit me for saying so,” he spoke, “but your friend is very fair.  Has he given any thought to perhaps a hat?  Or a scarf?”

Hal thought about that.  Master Claw was correct.  While the sun didn’t make that many appearances in Dol-Makjar, that didn’t mean there wasn’t such a thing as being sunburnt.  And, Bolaire was now very fair-skinned, and he would certainly need some sort of cover-up if he spent time outdoors.

But a hat or a scarf wasn’t really Bolaire’s style.

However, he thought he knew what would be.

“Do you happen to carry anything like a parasol?”

Master Claw sighed.  “Unfortunately not, but that would be an excellent style choice.  There is a shop two away that sells various sorts of accessories.  I believe you may find something there to your liking.”

Hal nodded.  “We’ll check it out.  Thank you for the recommendation.”

“To be honest, Master Marinar is an old friend of mine.  So my recommendation is a little mercenary.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Hal chuckled.

“I am glad you agree.”

Anything else they may have said was cut off by Bolaire leaving the changing room, stepping in front of the mirrors and taking a spin.  The shirt was quite nice: a deep blue color that had a slightly open collar and fell to Bolaire’s hands without any sort of closed cuff.  It really brought out those brilliant blue eyes, which Hal would never disagree with doing.

The trousers, however…they were an even darker blue, in a straight leg that, to Hal’s opinion, had no personality.

He stepped a little closer.  “The shirt looks fantastic on you.  But those trousers are boring.”

Master Claw was next to him, one arm crossed over his chest, the other bent upward so that he could rest his chin in his hand.  “I have to agree.”

“That makes three of us,” Bolaire declared.  “They are certainly not something I’m looking for.”

With that, he flounced back into the changing room.

Within minutes, he was back out, pirouetting in front of the mirrors in an ensemble that took Hal’s breath away.

The tunic was an emerald green silk, with a collar that buttoned at the throat and yet wasn’t too tight or too high.  The cuffs also buttoned at the wrists, and once again were loose enough that the sleeves would rise or fall with Bolaire’s movement. 

And the trousers…

At first, Hal thought that Bolaire was wearing a billowy skirt that fell to the tops of his feet.  It was only when he walked that Hal could see that they were actually trousers that had almost outrageously wide cuffs. 

Hal was speechless.

Master Claw piped up.  “I had a feeling that would look spectacular on you.”

Bolaire looked quite pleased.  “Yes, this is much more along the lines of what I’m interested in.”  He turned toward Hal.  “What do you think?”  he asked expectantly.

Hal seemed to be silent a little too long, because the happiness in Bolaire’s face seemed to fade a little. 

He mentally slapped himself. There was no way he was going to hurt his friend, especially over a simple misunderstanding.  “No!” he blurted.  “I love it!  Sorry, I was just…well, stunned at how amazing you look.”

The happiness returned, adding to it a blush that showed off Bolaire’s freckles to almost devastating effect.

Oh, if he hadn’t known it already, Hal would admit he was totally screwed.

“Well, this one is obviously a keeper,” Bolaire declared.  “I do think I need some shoes for it though.”

“There is a shop two down from here who does such things,” Master Claw said.  “You can stop there and let Master Marinar know that I sent you.  You can also get any sort of accessories you’d like.”

Hal was going to have to tip this man very well for taking the initiative like that and sending them to the very place Hal wanted to go.

This was turning out to be a very eye-opening trip.

**********

Bolaire ended up purchasing four various tunics and shirts, and three pair of trousers.  The bags hung from his arm, as he and Hal left the shop.

He did, however, insist on wearing the very ensemble that had caused Hal to become so tongue-tied. 

That response he hadn’t been expecting.  At first, Bolaire had thought that Hal had hated it, and had been afraid to say anything.  Bolaire had been disappointed; he’d loved the way it had felt and flowed, and had already decided to include this in his purchases from the shop.

But Hal’s opinion meant more to him than he could say, and if Hal hadn’t liked it…

That hadn’t been the case at all.  Bolaire had managed to strike the normally eloquent bard speechless. 

Him!

It felt…gratifying. 

No, more than that.

It was as if Hal’s regard in that way had plucked an unknown string within his chest.  Knowing that Hal saw him that way…as something desirable.

No one had ever thought of him that way before.

Bolaire…wasn’t quite sure how to slot that into his new life.  He was well aware of Hal’s regard before he’d changed.  That had been broken when all of his lies had come to light, yet he and Hal had worked all of that out.  So, intellectually he understood that this wasn’t something entirely new.  That it wasn’t only because that Bolaire was now human and had his own autonomy where his body was concerned. 

And yet, he hadn’t been aware that it was that…strong.  That this new form was capable of something like that.

He really needed to think about it.  This was so totally new to his experience that he just didn’t know how to deal.

Right now, though, he just didn’t feel he could be all that for Hal. 

Not yet, anyway.

Just that morning, he’d thought that Hal would very well be the one to awaken such sexual feelings in Bolaire.

It turned out that Bolaire was doing that to Hal without even meaning to.

It had made him feel cherished and loved and tingly all over, seen in a way he’d never been before.

It was terrifying and amazing all at the same time.

“This must be the shop that Master Claw mentioned,” Hal said, coming to a halt.

With his arm looped through Hal’s, Bolaire had to stop as well.  He felt a little odd standing there in the middle of foot traffic like that, but they seemed to walk around the pair of them without complaint.

“Let’s see what they have.”  With that, Bolaire tugged Hal a little toward the shop, which had a front window that displayed various items such as shoes, bags, and other accoutrements.  He felt some excitement settle in as they both entered, the scent of leather in his nose.

This shopping trip had been a good idea.  Even if Bolaire had been nervous and twitchy until they’d found that first shop.  Then, it was as if he’d been in his own element, and had enjoyed himself immensely.

And having Hal on his arm had been the highlight of the day so far.

Bolaire put what had occurred in the other shop out of his mind as the shopkeeper approached.  “Good day,” he greeted them with a friendly smile.  He was a thin, almost reedy, half-elf, in a pale blue suit that complemented his blond-grey hair and blue eyes.  “How can I help you today?”

“Are you Master Marinar?” Bolaire inquired. 

The smile that the man had been wearing faded a little from that sort of expression people in customer service wore, into something warmer.  “I am indeed.  To whom do I have to thank for the referral?”

“Master Claw.  He graciously sent us your way.”

“I shall have to thank him.  How can I help?”

Bolaire went on to explain he’d just had a major change in his life and was looking to get a new wardrobe.  When he’d been talking to Master Claw, Bolaire had gotten the distinct impression that the shop owner had assumed that it had been some sort of transition, which was true in a way...just not in the way that Master Claw had assumed.  Bolaire hadn’t minded the assumption at all; he had the utmost respect for anyone who could accept themselves as they truly were and then do something about it.

In fact, when he’d learned that people could do that, he’d been a little jealous that it was apparently something that mortals could choose for themselves. 

Whereas Bolaire was trapped in his own existence with the only option being to take a new body when it was time.

That now, of course, wasn’t the case.  He was on the way of being totally happy with what he’d been given.

His second chance.

“I specifically need shoes, and I am very interested in what sort of accessories you carry.  I’m hoping that something will grab my attention.”

“Then if you’ll come with me…”

Bolaire followed Master Marinar toward racks of shoes.  “We’ll need to measure your feet, to make certain we get the correct size for you…”

He explained to the shopkeeper about his aversion to touch.  Master Marinar understood, and then showed Hal how to use the device that took the measurement.  Bolaire had seen that sort of thing before, anytime he’d needed boots or shoes. 

He had to take his boots off.  The problem was, the only decent pair he’d had were his favorites, the ones that relied on garters to keep up, and those were what he was wearing now.  It hadn’t been so bad when trying on clothes, because he would just take them off as he changed, but he only needed to remove them now.

It was a good thing his new outfit had such widely-flared legs…

It was no problem to lift his trousers and unhook them.  Master Marinar and Hal turned their backs as he did, although there was a tiny thrill in the notion that Hal would glance back and watch.

Oh my word…

Bolaire needed to get that out of his brain right now.

Once his boots were removed, Bolaire accepted the seat that Master Marinar offered. 

If he’d thought that Hal measuring his feet wouldn’t be quite as…well, interesting, as being measured for clothing, he would have been dead wrong.

Both actions were highly distracting. 

Bolaire, of course, had never been a sexual creature.  But then, he’d made no secret of that.  However, there was something about this new skin, this new body, that was making him very aware of whenever Hal was…

Damnit.

Sensations were heightened.  He’d never had anything like this in any of the bodies he’d previously worn.  It was taking some getting used to.

And it was Hal.  Which made everything worse.

Or better, as the case may be.

There was a tingling running down his spine.  It settled into his stomach where…was this what butterflies felt like?  He’d heard of it, but never experienced it.

He wasn’t sure he liked it.  He’d have to give it more thought.

Luckily for his composure, the foot measuring didn’t take long…much like the clothes measuring.  Hal was quite solicitous, being careful about touch despite having permission to do so.  Bolaire appreciated it, and he gave his dear friend a smile when he was done.

Hal was blushing. 

Bolaire shouldn’t have been surprised, knowing that Hal was…attracted. 

But feet? 

Mortals continually surprised him.

Oh, wait…he was one of those now. 

But then, he was continually surprising himself.

Master Marinar had taken down what Hal had told him.  “Very good.  Let’s take a look and see if anything strikes you…”

“I see something just over there that I want to check out,” Hal interrupted, waving toward the rear of the store.  “You mind if I take a quick look?”

Bolaire was a little confused, but amenable. If Hal was interested in something in the shop, who was he to keep him from it?  “Go ahead.  I’ll be right here.”  He felt the tiniest flutter of panic at being left on his own, but he successfully managed to quash it.

It was getting easier to do that.  For which Bolaire was so very grateful, although he would be glad when it stopped altogether.

Hal flashed him a quick grin and then was heading back toward what he’d seen.  Bolaire was also curious, but Master Marinar took up his attention, pointing out various styles of shoes.

It didn’t take Bolaire long to find one he liked.

It was a pair of calf-high boots in glossy black leather.  There weren’t any buttons or laces; instead, a wide belt of mat black leather wrapped around the boot at ankle height, with a large buckle in gold that clasped it all together.  The differences in the texture of the leather and the brightness of the buckle made them even more appealing.

“Oh, yes,” Master Marinar exclaimed.  “They have just enough heel to keep the cuffs of those stylish trousers away from the ground.  Let me check in the back to see if we have them in your size.”

He bustled away, which meant Bolaire could look for Hal.  He could see his darling friend speaking to a clerk, who was nodding emphatically.  Hal gave him an answering nod, then turned back toward where Bolaire was sitting. 

Even from across the shop, Bolaire could see the amused eyebrow raise Hal was giving him.

Caught.

Bolaire gave him a cheeky grin in return.

The shoes fit perfectly.  Bolaire immediately set them aside.

He found one more pair, these a deep red pair of dress shoes that seemed to just call to him, as well as a rather fashionable leather shoulder bag and a couple of belts in both a black and a red.  He also had luck that this shop also stocked various sorts of underclothes. 

He didn’t mind wearing Hal’s, but there just something overly personal in that. 

Bolaire insisted on wearing his new boots, and they looked quite smashing with his new outfit.

Not only was he going to have to patronize Master Claw’s establishment again, but this one as well.  They gave excellent service and he would be interested in discovering what they might stock later on.

He stood up, feeling well on the way to becoming himself again.  This shopping trip had been a very good idea.  Bolaire was very glad he’d decided to go along with it.

Having Hal with him just made the day even better.

At some point he was going to have to talk to Hal about these feelings. 

But not today.

Today, he was going to buy these new shoes, perhaps a find a few new shiny things, and then let Hal take him home and make him pancakes tomorrow.

Oh, and escort him to the Seven Stars later tonight.

“Did you get everything you wanted?” Hal appeared at his shoulder.

“I did indeed.” He gave his friend a smile.  “And did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did indeed,” Hal echoed.  “The clerk, Vander,  has it up at the counter, just waiting for us.”

“Then let me gather my purchases together and we’ll move onto the next place.” 

“Another place?” Hal had a quizzically humorous eyebrow raised. 

“One more.  I think it’s about time I gave Shadia her earrings back.”

Bolaire had, honestly, not really been the one for jewelry.  He’d considered it a case of gilding the lily, as it were, and not all that necessary.  Most of the people who attended the various parties he went to overindulged in jewels, and it was always extremely gaudy.

Besides, if he was being honest he’d already been ‘decorated’ enough as it was, what with the mask that had been his true self.  At certain galas he would use make-up to ornament himself if the event called for it, but really the mask was striking enough.

Now, though, for some reason the artifact had given him pierced ears.  He might as well take advantage of that.

Hal nodded. “Not that she would care, but I can certainly understand the need to branch out.”

Of course, Bolaire would have to remember he was wearing earrings in the first place.  He hadn’t this morning for his shower.

“I was thinking we could get some lunch as well,” Hal suggested. 

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”  Bolaire was getting hungry, but he was also getting a little shopped out as well.  “Then, perhaps we can get what you need and then head home?”

“We can certainly do that.  I was beginning to wonder if you were going to get tired.”  Hal was smiling slightly.

“I have just about hit that point.  And we’re also going back out later to meet the others at the Seven Stars.”

“This is true.  Maybe we can both nap a little.”

“As long as it’s not in that bloody chair!”

Hal laughed at him.  Bolaire figured he deserved it since he’d slept in that chair before and hadn’t gotten up with a sore neck.

With Master Marinar’s aid, Bolaire collected up his newest purchases and followed Hal to the counter, where the clerk was waiting.  Vander was a human youth, perhaps seventeen, with floppy blond hair and washed-out blue eyes, a wide yet sincere smile on his dark features. 

“Please help these gentlemen, Vander,” Master Marinar directed.  He turned to Bolaire, then to Hal.  “It has been a pleasure serving you both.  I hope you’ll come again.”

“Count on it,” Bolaire answered.  “You’ve been extremely helpful.”

“Thank you,” the shopkeeper gave him a pleased smile. 

“No…thank you.”

Master Marinar gave him a happy nod, then left them with the clerk, who proceeded to check prices and give Bolaire the amount.  Bolaire figured it was a good thing that he’d had enough gold with him the day of his accident; he was going to have to visit one of his stashes soon to replenish.

It was totally worth it.

Once everything was bagged up and Bolaire was done, Hal took his place. 

Vander’s smile turned sly.  “Are you ready to make your purchase, Master Fang?”

“Yes I am.”

Bolaire was intrigued.  Just what had Hal found?

Vander the clerk brought out a bundle of blue, black, and gold lace attached to a dark wood handle.  Bolaire was a little confused, until Hal handed it over to him with a fond smile on his face.

It was a parasol.

Bolaire’s eyes widened.  He held the handle and let the lace unfurl a little until he found the runner, which he pushed upward until it caught.  The ribs were the same dark wood, but the canopy…

His breath caught a little.  The bright blue lace was tightly stitched into a pattern of birds, outlined and winged in black with a thicker golden gauge as trim around the edge of the canopy. 

Magpies.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Hal,” he breathed.  “I…don’t know what to say.”  He spun it in his hands, the canopy of birds looking as if they were in flight.

Hal suddenly blushed, his hand going to the back of his neck.  “Master Claw mentioned it, so I can’t take credit for the idea, but then I was worried because you’re so pale, and I didn’t want you to get sunburned or anything…I mean, we don’t get a lot of sun, but you can still get too much…and then I saw this and it was pretty much perfect –”

Bolaire thought Hal babbling like that was absolutely adorable. Especially since Hal was usually so eloquent.

“I love it,” he broke into the word salad. 

Hal looked relieved.  “I’m glad you do.”

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Hal picked up some of the bags, so Bolaire wouldn’t have to carry it all.  Even though they were all his own purchases.

Bolaire had to close the parasol in order to leave the shop, but it was up again once they were in the street.  He loved how the diffused light dappled through the lace, casting fascinating shadows around him. 

He’d never owned a parasol before.  He’d just never considered getting one.  He was grateful that Hal had thought of it…even if he’d been prompted by Master Claw.  The one he’d chosen was perfect; it reminded him of the Rookery, of home. 

The Rookery was truly his home now, even if he might not stay there full-time after his so-called recovery.

As much as he’d like to.

After a quick stop at a jewelers’ where he picked three new pairs of earrings, both men made their way to a nearby eatery, where they enjoyed a nice lunch of noodles and beef that had just the perfect amount of spice in it in Bolaire’s opinion.  The place also served a cold tea that was just perfectly sweet.  Bolaire made a note to come back here as well, if just for the tea.  He’d never had it on ice before.

Hal didn’t seemed impressed, but then if they both liked the same things life would be boring, wouldn’t it?

Then they walked arm in arm among the food stalls of the Marketplace, where Hal moved through with determination, until the cloth bags he’d brought with him were nearly full to bursting.  Bolaire lost track of what his dear friend had purchased, but Hal listed a little to the side as they made their way out of the Marketplace.

Well, Bolaire did as well, what with his own bags.  The only thing keeping them both truly upright were their linked arms.

“We’re going to have to do this again,” he declared, as they got into the coach they’d managed to flag down.  He practically collapsed into one of the seats, his bags piled around his feet and his parasol across his lap. 

He felt such a sense of accomplishment, even if he was a bit tired.  He’d had fun, purchased some lovely things, received a gift from Hal, had a tasty meal, and was now ready to go home, if just to rest for later tonight.

And his panic hadn’t really affected him at all. 

“We will,” Hal promised.  His own bags were a little neater, some on the bench and some on the floor, and he was practically glowing.  His eyes were happy and fond.  “I really do love that outfit.”

Bolaire knew the sensation of a blush by now.  “Thank you.  I love it too.”  He made it sound superior, and put his nose in the air.  “I have excellent taste.”

His friend chuckled.  “You do.  You’ll have to wear that the next time we go out together.”

“I think I can promise that.” 

Bolaire settled back in his seat, sighing a little.  It was fabulous just to spend a day out with Hal and not have to worry about the Sundered Houses or anything else that they were trying to fight against. 

He knew the peace wouldn’t last very long, but Bolaire would take whatever he could get.

Fin