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The doors were heavy wood, thick paned glass inlaid with them. The front of the building itself was also predominantly glass, shining inside onto soft, pale wooden floors. For a place so sinister, it had mastered the art of artificial niceties.
This is how I die, Nick thought to himself.
His fingers latched around a woven metal handle, tugging once, sharply. Clicking itself open with a soft chime, Nick stood to the side to allow the others inside first. Bringing up the rear would also allow him an easy exit if it came down to it.
“Alright, so we need a suit for you from here. Then… let’s see, if we're lucky we can also get your shoes here, and I’ve got a few other places you’re going to love,” Harvard told him. There was a bright shine in his eyes, and he was smiling.
I’m really going to fucking die here.
“Yeah, got it.” Nick gave him a quick thumbs up, but quickly straightened his spine and turned his attention up to a sales associate who had smiled and greeted them.
It was just a suit. It couldn’t be that bad, right? He should’ve just committed to renting one, that would’ve solved so many problems so quickly. Never mind that Harvard was also insisting on getting it tailored even if that was allowed to be closer to home.
Well. Aiden insisted on getting it tailored. Harvard, who must have been out of his mind, readily agreed.
Nick could move through these kinds of interactions easily—he’d worked enough odd jobs to be able to put himself together for a show that only kind of needed to happen. They didn’t seem to be regarding them with any kind of disdain, let alone wary. In a place like this? Nick was surprised to say the least, but maybe that was why Harvard had wanted them to travel.
Honestly? Thank god it was Harvard. Aiden might’ve been too much for his already nervous heart. It would all get handled and sorted and done, probably well and fast too, but how it would have gotten handled may have just killed Nick stone dead.
“So these are all vintage,” Harvard told him quietly, halfway under his breath. “I thought you might be more inclined towards something like these.”
Nick paused, looking to the varieties of fabric in front of him, scanning over the alternate patterns and the carefully styled pieces. Curated might’ve been the proper turn of phrase.
“No shit, yeah?” Nick, despite trying to fight against the urge, reached out to gently touch one of the jackets and feel it. Smooth, cold, maybe silk of some variety. Cotton. Linen. “Maybe you got me here, these are kinda cool.”
“I know everyone thinks Aiden’s the fashion guy here, but you’d be surprised. I knew you wouldn't go for something plain and upscale.” Harvard smiled and nudged him with his elbow, gentle in the ribs. “I know my way around a place like this, and you haven’t seen me out of uniform.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “What are you calling this, then?”
It wasn’t much different from what he wore around campus, at least, in Nick’s defense. Not much to really look at beyond a nice button up that had been tucked in neatly to a dark wash pair of jeans with a coordinated belt and watch. About average, about expected.
“Uniform, duh.” Harvard rolled his eyes playfully. “I have style, contrary to popular belief.”
“Such as…? Come on, you’re leaving me hanging,” Nick told him as he slipped by to keep browsing.
“I’m sure Aiden’s got pictures somewhere from the last time we went out out.”
Nick looked at him pointedly. “You’re making my hope wane, here.”
“Here, I’ll make you a deal. You focus up, we get you a real suit, and I’ll dig something up. Fair?” Harvard stuck his hands in his pockets.
“...deal.” Nick wasn’t wholly buying into it, but he’d let it be.
As they started up the process, something longer than Nick had initially thought it would be (why wasn’t it just, pick something out, buy it, and good to go?), he did very quickly figure out why it was Harvard who had brought him as opposed to Aiden. As ready and willing as Aiden had been for an excuse to come into the city, he was deemed the second best choice for the whole ordeal.
One, Harvard knew how to hype a guy up. Not something he’d expected would be necessary, but the softened honesty for poor choices mixed in with the cheering and borderline cat calling for the better options helped. But two, he could actually navigate the situation at hand for both of them. That was helpful, seeing as Nick had never… done anything remotely similar in his life, ever. Harvard had that calming presence, nearby as a safety net but never overt and taking over.
He took over a little when it came to the shoes, but even that was predominantly about color selections and shapes, silhouettes. The suit he’d gone with was linen, a good visual texture to it with a pleasant, warm but neutral color. Something that would brighten him up but not wash him out, quoting the salesperson they’d been working with.
Which, he didn’t know much about that, but Harvard agreed and he had to know at least something more.
Nick tried not to freak out drastically about the price tag. He’d known, Harvard had told him in advance a rough estimate, they’d kept it on the lower end, and he still needed to balk on the sidewalk outside with the bags in his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose. And, thankfully, Harvard was willing to stand outside with him and quietly talk him down from his tree.
Well, it was probably why he was still in uniform, as he’d put it. At least metaphorically. Nick would have the suit for a long time. They’d get it tailored properly so it fit well. It was the kind of thing he’d randomly need at various points in his life, better to not worry about renting something that only mostly fit and ultimately spending the same amount of money after three wears, maybe four. He actually liked what he got.
It helped.
The short walk to lunch helped too, just the act of moving. It may have been a warm day, but it was nice in the shade, and the mellow breeze that pushed through Nick’s clothes and brushed his skin worked in tandem to finish bringing him down.
Harvard was notably at ease in the city as they meandered along, in a different way than Nick would be. Or, maybe, compared to what Nick expected. Or both. Harvard wasn’t usually so… laid back, if that was the right way to put it, especially not while clearly on duty. He didn’t walk as much with his shoulders, he flowed with the stream of foot traffic like it was second nature, he jaywalked for fuck’s sake. Harvard Lee, rule stickler number one, breaking even a minor law like that was somewhat outrageous.
They got lunch at an Italian spot not too far, sticking with a theme for the day even if it was unintentional. And, true to his word, once they’d ordered, Harvard would show Nick a few pictures from a photo album that definitely had been there the entire time. They were taken on a timer, that was clarified quickly, and he didn’t often wear those particular outfits unless he was leaving campus for an extended period of time or on a break.
Okay, sure. Made enough sense. But Nick was aghast either way to learn that Harvard not only understood street style down to its core, but could riff on it in a way that clearly implied he wasn’t just copying something out of a textbook was bordering on impressive. He liked baggy pants, that was apparent, but he also liked to play with different textures and accessories, alternating cuts of clothes and mixing occasions into one outfit. It always had a throughline though, the colors always coordinated somehow.
Nick could admit when he was wrong. Their captain knew ball like that, and Nick had been in safe hands for at least most of the time.
They emerged from the restaurant an hour and a half later, Nick still turning to Harvard for some sense of direction as to where they were going next. There was hesitation, and Harvard was staring at his watch with furrowed eyebrows like it was telling him something beyond the time.
“Okay. Let’s see…” Harvard stepped to the side of the walkway. He didn’t need to pull Nick, that memo came on its own. “We’ve got a couple hours before we catch the train back.”
“Alright, yeah. Was there anything you needed to do? Or, wanted to do too, I guess? I feel like I’m good here.” Nick gave the bag a small shake. It was heavier than it looked. “If I’m not good here, I’m gonna be really upset.”
“You’ve got everything you need, I swear.” Harvard laughed as he said it, halfway pointing by the time he was almost finished with the thought. “There’s a cool record store a couple blocks over though if you wanna check that out.”