The tailor snickered. "Sadly, that's the best offer I've had in a while." He held out a pair of pants for Jory to step into. He grabbed a bunch of pins to fit them properly up Jory's legs.
Jory smiled at the tailor. "Stick around with me. As an attractive gay man, I'm a babe magnet."
Britson almost swallowed the pin he'd just put in his mouth. He took it out with a gasp. "Warn me next time before you make me laugh. Stand up straight so I can pin these and we'll see what I can do to attract a nice man for you." The man gave Jory's armband a considering look. "Though I have a feeling you won't have a problem with that."
After Britson ran a machine around the pants to size them just right, Jory slipped on the shirt handed to him. "May we both have good luck then." Luckily, he'd been wearing his favorite pair of boots during the bonfire incident.
Following his gaze, the tailor looked over at Jory's footwear where he'd set them neatly by his clothes. "I'll put in an order with the cobbler."
"No!" Jory yelled. "Those are my favorite boots."
"I'm sure they were nice once." Jory could hear Britson slip into his professional voice. He probably pulled it out when a customer made an 'unfortunate' choice of clothing. "But I know a fabulous leatherworker who could make you an amazing pair of boots. You don't want to lessen your new wardrobe, do you?"
Damn.
"I suppose yes is the wrong answer?"
Britson patted his shoulder consolingly. "When you get your new boots, we'll give those their own box for burial."
Jory sniffed. "I'll miss them."
Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he had to admit Britson knew his stuff. The well-cut pants were dark blue and outlined his thighs, but were saved from stodginess by the silver thread stitched along the seams. His top was heavy white silk with the same silver accents.
"There are few men who could pull this look off," Britson said, his eyes skimming Jory's body with professional pride. "I have just the jacket to go with the outfit."
He opened a closet door and removed a dark caramel, ankle-length leather jacket with an interesting wavy pattern. He slid the sleeves up Jory's arms and across his shoulders. It fit like a dream.
"Perfect. What kind of leather is this?"
"Dragon."
Jory's mouth dropped open in shock. Britson rushed to explain. "It's from a dragon shedding. They shed their old coat every hundred years or so. That coat is from a first shedding, which is why it's so supple."
"That must be really expensive." He started to take it off, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Although he could afford it, he didn't want to advertise his wealth to potential partners.
"I'll give you a good deal because I have a feeling you'll be enhancing my reputation." Britson's smiled at Jory.
Jory didn't really need a good deal, but it would look odd if he accepted the price without protest.
Britson turned him so he could look at his reflection head on.
Jory had always thought more about the quality of his clothes than how they looked on him, but glancing in the mirror, he was surprised at the man looking back. His hair glowed against the dragon skin jacket, his slim body appeared taller, and the well-tailored shirt caressed his classic v-shaped body like a faithful lover. Turning slightly, he pushed aside the coat and saw the pants made his ass look even better.
"Damn, I look so good it's almost false advertising."
Britson laughed. "If I have my way, you will always look good." The tailor clapped him on the shoulder with one large hand "Much of my clientele are ugly people hoping for miracles. It's a true pleasure to dress someone who has so much to start and offers so much potential."
Jory clasped the hand on his shoulder briefly. "Stop or you'll make me cry and undermine my manliness." He gave his hair a critical glance in the mirror. "Do you know a good barber?"
"No," Britson said in a horrified voice. "Don't you dare! It's stunning."
Shrugging, Jory turned away from his reflection. "If I find my mate, I'll need someone to cut most of it off. It's tradition. I wondered if you had a recommendation." Brushing back his hair, he shook Britson's hand. "Thank you for the clothing. You are worth every penny, and if I had to put that outfit on again tomorrow, I was going to scream."
"Have a good night out with Z, but don't let him steer you wrong."
Jory laughed. "I'll be careful. "
Britson smiled and absently brushed at Jory's jacket with a small lint brush. "He's a good man, but prone to get into mischief. I'll have some clothes sent to your room tomorrow and the rest by the end of this week."
