Author's note: Alrighty, so a lot of (okay, a few) reviewers have been asking for a chapter with this theme, which I was originally trying to avoid because it's kinda cliché, but then I decided that it was more or less unavoidable after all. So, here we go. ;)
There is one thing that strikes Tony as conspicuous now that Loki is up and running again – okay, maybe he's not exactly running, but at least he's moving around without showing any obvious signs of discomfort. Perhaps it's the memory of the recent embarrassing incident featuring him bumping into Loki buck naked that's made him more aware of the concept of clothing in relation to the god, or maybe it's once more seeing him not half-hidden by bed covers. Whatever the reason, he suddenly finds himself much more conscious of what Loki is actually wearing.
Of course, it's the usual things that he's been sporting for most of his time here: band shirts, sweatpants, old clothes that Tony once found in his closet. Nothing that fits the god too badly – he did pick the largest-sized stuff he could find – but it's not exactly flattering either. While the clothes are not dirty or tattered or anything, and are in fact hardly any different from what Tony would be wearing on a normal, comfortable day at home, it still looks… cheap.
No, he corrects himself. Actually, it's him, Tony, that's looking cheap. Because he should have gotten Loki something else to wear by now, something that's not just old hand-me-downs.
Sure, at first that had been the appropriate solution, seeing as how Loki had just arrived in his tower and Tony was unprepared for his new houseguest and trying his best (and failing) to come to terms with the situation. But he's had a long time since then to actually improve on that and make up for the initial deficits, rather than continuing to let the god dress in what should have been a temporary fix.
He looks over to where Loki is sitting opposite from him at the breakfast table, lazily reading the text on back of the cereal package. The Deep Purple logo adorning his T-shirt is staring back at Tony; one he's seen so many times, and yet never really reflected on. He never imagined that the mere logo of one of his favourite bands would ever bring forth any feelings of guilt, and yet there is indeed a stirring of just that bubbling inside of him.
Of course, he could have Jarvis take Loki's measurements and then have something ordered. It would be the easiest and most straightforward way. But something is telling him that it might be more… appreciated if he stepped this up a notch, went one better than that, and let Loki choose something of his own.
To be honest, bringing up the concept of clothing is a little embarrassing considering the recent mishap, and a part of him wants to postpone it. But the prospect of being faced with that logo for another day as a reminder of his deficiencies appeals even less to him, so he whisks the discomfort away.
"You need some clothes," he says bluntly and without preamble to the god, before his brain decides to veto his decision to bring the subject up.
There is a faint crease of confusion between the dark eyebrows as Loki looks up from his make-shift reading material. "I… believe I already have clothes," he says in reply, a hand reflexively touching the hem of his shirt.
Tony shrugs. "Yeah, well, I meant you need some new clothes. The stuff you've got is pretty old and doesn't really fit you all that well."
Loki blinks a couple of times, but before he has the time to say anything in reply, Tony speaks up again. "I got nothing planned for the day, so we could head out to the store and buy you some new get-ups before lunch."
Loki is quiet for a few moments, seemingly pondering Tony's suggestion. Well, perhaps it's not such a splendid idea, after all, considering that Loki got up from his bout of convalescence pretty recently and is no doubt still a bit sore.
"Of course, if you don't feel up to it right now, we can wait a few days. There's no hurry," he clarifies. Guess he won't have a choice but to be faced with that Deep Purple logo for a little while longer after all, then.
"No," comes the soft but decisive reply. "I wouldn't mind going today."
"Alrighty," Tony says, leaning back in his chair. "Then it's all settled. Clothes shopping it is."
They take the car, another thing that he realizes must be the first time for Loki, just like the clothes shopping.
He pulls in at a fairly down-scale clothes store, not because he's being a cheapskate or anything, but because he wants to stay clear of the leech-like shop attendants lurking in the finer establishments, eager to sink their teeth into the first customer walking through the door, hoping to cash in on the juicy provision that comes with the successful sale of a nice Armani suit. In less fancy stores, the sales people tend to just hover in the background, and he doesn't want anyone to be paying too close attention to Loki, just in case. So a clothes store with more lazy, indifferent employees is very much preferable.
"Okay," he says to the god as they enter through the automatic doors – another ubiquitous perk of living in a Midgardian city that he doubts Loki has encountered before – "this is a classic American clothes store. It's where we mortals go to get our clothes." He gestures towards the long rows and piles of clothing lined up in front of them as he notices Loki's perplexed look. "So just pick out whatever strikes your fancy, and we'll pay later when you're done."
At least it's a good thing it's a men's clothing store only, so he won't have to explain that as well. Given the flamboyant, over-the-top way of dressing that Asgardians seem to have a penchant for, he wouldn't have totally put it behind Loki to go for something from the women's section, thinking it appropriate clothing for a guy.
At that, another culture discrepancy suddenly strikes him. "Oh yeah, if you want to try anything out, the changing rooms are over there." He points towards the back of the store. "That's where you undress, not out here." Yeah, better make that very clear, or things could get messy quickly. He certainly hasn't forgotten the unashamed way Loki decided to strip on the spot last time he was offered some clothing.
"I see," the god confirms with a nod.
They walk through the casual section first. Loki seems a bit lost as he strolls among the racks, curiously touching the garments in front of him, looking and looking, but not picking out anything. This goes on for quite a long time, as Tony trails behind.
"You don't have clothes stores in Asgard, do you?" he finally says, starting to get where the problem lies.
Loki turns to face him, shaking his head. "Not really, no. Not like this," he answers, gesturing towards a row of dark blue shirts. "Usually when you need something, you would see a tailor or a seamstress who'll take your measurements and then sew according to your specifications and choice of fabric. Clothes aren't… sewn before someone has actually ordered them."
Tony shrugs. "Yeah, I kinda figured. The old-fashioned way." He beckons Loki from where he's just two steps away from straying into the children's department. "Come on, I'll help you out."
He's never seen so many clothes in one place before, and it's a bit overwhelming being asked to pick something out from the endless rows of foreign attire. He really has no idea what to choose, with his lacking knowledge of Midgardian customs and usage, and the only thing he can think of is how odd it is that the humans' finest clothing is so very plain. Not like in Asgard, where everyone would wear their most exquisite finery for festive occasions, marked with all the signs of wealth and titles and status of the wearer. So unlike these drab suits that he's seen Tony wear before going out for some important meeting or convention, apparel that makes everyone look identical and anonymous.
He's glad when Tony comes to his assistance, offering suggestions and pointing out examples of what would constitute appropriate clothing.
Mostly, he just follows Tony's recommendations in choosing things, since his own cluelessness stops him from taking a more active approach, though there are still a couple of items that he picks out himself. One is a blue shirt that, despite its foreignness, reminds him a little bit of a tunic he used to wear as a boy. Not that such sentiment should matter now, of course, but his hand goes for it regardless and he doesn't make any attempt to stop it.
As they reach the other end of the store, he has a small mountain of clothes in his arms, and he goes off to try it out while Tony waits outside the changing room area.
Once it's all done, he stands a little distance away watching as Tony pays the man at the counter, then grabs the bag of clothes and walks up to where Loki is waiting.
"Your clothes," he says, holding out the bag to Loki, who takes it.
His clothes.
And all he can think of as he's standing there clutching the bag is how slaves in Asgard most certainly aren't supposed to own property, and yet he's just now been given something that belongs to him, something that he can call his own, even if it's Midgardian and foreign.
He looks up from the bag to Tony. "Thank you," he says. And he really means it, too, though perhaps not mainly for the clothes as such.
Tony claps him on the shoulder as he walks past him, making for the door. "You're welcome, buddy."
As they're back in the tower again, he sits on the couch in the living room, gingerly feeling the fabric of the garments spread out on his lap for closer examination. So unlike everything he's worn on Asgard, strange and alien, but at least it's his.
"You know," comes Tony's amused voice from across the room, "you should actually put it on, not just play around with it."
So he does, picking a pair of black pants and the blue shirt, stripping out of his old apparel while Tony immerses himself in his hastily snapped open cell phone.
He stands around for a few moments, trying to get used to the feeling of the new clothes against his skin. They're comfortable, though he has no doubt that he would find his own reflection strange-looking if he could see it.
"You look good in that," comes Tony's assessment and Loki looks up to lock gazes with Tony, who has stopped fiddling with his cell phone and is now looking straight at him.
He likes the comment. Not 'that looks good on you', but 'you look good in that'.
And he also likes the way Tony is looking at him when he says it.
Ah yes, the old "clothes shopping" slavery cliché… well, at least I didn't make Loki's shirt of choice green. ;)
And before someone asks – no, Tony didn't intend to convey anything else with that comment at the end other than simply that the clothes looked good on him. Even if it incidentally came out the other way around because his brain was more busy appreciating Loki than the actual clothes. ^^
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