As they walked through the gleaming corridors of the Galleria, past the ice rink and the palm trees and the endless rows of luxury storefronts, Sebastian tried desperately to look cool. He straightened his tweed blazer, which was still slightly rumpled from being crumpled on the changing booth floor, and ran a hand through his hair in what he hoped was a casual, wave gesture.
"So that makes the twenty seventh store I've been kicked out of," he said, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual.
"Yeah. No biggie. I'm something of a delinquent, you see. A real troublemaker. They don't call me Sebastian 'The Menace' Rupert for nothing. Well, they don't call me that at all, actually, but they could. They should. I've earned it."
Internally, Sebastian was screaming. Twenty seven stores? He had never been kicked out of anything in his entire life. He had never even received a detention in secondary school.
He had once apologized to a librarian for returning a book three hours late. His criminal record was so clean it sparkled. And now he had been forcibly removed from a lingerie store for participating in what could only be described as an orgy in a changing booth. What if his old colleagues at Oxford heard about this? What if word got back to his former professors? Professor Whitmore, who had called his thesis "promising if somewhat overwrought"? Professor Davies, who had once accidentally made eye contact with him in the hallway and never fully recovered? They would hear that Sebastian Rupert, the same Sebastian Rupert who had graduated with a 3.9 GPA, had been kicked out of a mall store for public indecency. He would be a laughing stock. An academic pariah. A cautionary tale told to incoming freshmen about the dangers of American excess.
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. His reputation was ruined. His career was over. He would have to change his name and move to a remote village in the Alps where no one had ever heard of the Galleria Houston or black string panties or passing out in a puddle of someone else's—
Wait. He had also gotten fucked until he passed out. Which meant he was no longer a virgin. The realization hit him like a freight train of joy. He had lost his virginity. In a changing booth. At a lingerie store. With his boss and his boss's boyfriend. It was unconventional. It was scandalous. It was deeply, profoundly un-Oxford. But it had happened. He was a new man. A sexually experienced man. A man who had been fucked so thoroughly he had briefly lost consciousness. He was basically a porn star now. A very well educated porn star with a degree in English literature.
Theo glanced over his shoulder at Sebastian's rapidly shifting expressions, from panic to despair to sudden, giddy triumph, and shook his head with a fond smile. "Alright, enough goofing off. We actually need to buy something. I promised Kota new clothes, and I intend to deliver."
They stopped in front of another store, this one called Blush Strap. The facade was even more elegant than the last, with deep burgundy walls and gold fixtures and mannequins draped in lingerie that made the previous store look tame. This wasn't just scandalous lingerie. This was kinky lingerie. There were leather harnesses and lace bodysuits and strappy things that looked more like architectural projects than clothing. There were corsets with actual boning and stockings with seams up the back and garters that clipped to things Kota didn't even have names for.
Theo pushed through the door with the confidence of someone who owned the place, which, knowing the Hawthorne family, he very well might. The interior was dim and luxurious, with soft ambient lighting and displays arranged like art installations. A young worker with bright blond hair and a name tag reading "Cyrus" approached them immediately, his customer service smile already in place.
"Welcome to Blush Strap. Is there anything specific I can help you find today, or would you like to browse our new collection?"
Theo didn't even pause. He walked straight to an entire aisle of lingerie, a long rack filled with everything from delicate lace chemises to elaborate leather and chain ensembles that looked like they belonged in a very different kind of establishment. He gestured at the entire aisle with a casual wave of his hand. "I'll take a large in everything in this aisle."
Cyrus blinked. His customer service smile faltered for just a moment. "I'm sorry, sir. We don't typically allow customers to try on one of everything. It's a sanitation issue, and it would take quite a bit of time to—"
"No," Theo interrupted, his voice calm and patient and carrying that particular tone of someone who was used to being misunderstood by service workers. "I don't want to try on one of everything. I want to buy one of everything. In this aisle. In large. One of each."
Cyrus stared at him for three full seconds. Then he fumbled for the walkie talkie clipped to his belt, his fingers trembling slightly. "I—please wait here for just one moment, sir. I need to—I need to contact my supervisor."
He turned away, pressing the button on his walkie talkie and speaking in a low, urgent voice. "Hey, Milton? Yeah, it's Cyrus. I've got a situation at the front. There's a customer here, and he's—no, he's not trying things on. He wants to buy one of everything in the third aisle. Everything. No, I know that's not—yes, I clarified. He said he wants to purchase the entire aisle. No, I'm not joking. Why would I joke about this? Yes, the whole aisle. He has a card. It looks very shiny. Okay. Okay, I'll tell him. Yes, I'll be respectful. Obviously I'll be respectful. He's buying an entire aisle."
Cyrus turned back to them, his face slightly pale, his customer service smile now stretched into something almost desperate. "My supervisor says to treat you with the utmost respect, sir. And to offer you a complimentary glass of champagne while you wait. We have a very nice brut from a local vineyard."
"That won't be necessary," Theo said, already pulling out his sleek black credit card. "But thank you. Now, about the items. I will be trying them on at home. If he doesn't like something, I'll simply give it to my brothers or my staff. They're always happy to take my castoffs."
Cyrus nodded rapidly, his blue hair bouncing. "Of course, sir. Of course. Let me just—I'll grab all twenty two items for you. Would you like them boxed or bagged? We have complimentary gift wrapping as well. And personalized notes. And we can arrange for delivery if you don't want to carry them."
"Bagged is fine," Theo said. He watched Cyrus scramble to gather the items, then turned to Kota with a soft smile. "Is there anything else you had in mind, darling? Anything at all?"
Kota was too stunned to speak for a moment. He had just watched his boyfriend casually attempt to buy an entire aisle of lingerie like it was a carton of milk. "I deadass don't even know what to say right now. But if I had to pick something, maybe some shorts? you'd look hot in shorts."
Theo's face lit up like Kota had just suggested a trip to the moon. "Shorts! That's an amazing idea. We'll find you something perfect." He turned to Sebastian, who was still standing near the door trying to look like he hadn't recently been unconscious in a changing booth. "Sebastian? Anything catch your eye?"
Sebastian shook his head nervously, his eyes darting to a display of leather chaps and immediately darting away. "No. No, thank you. I'm quite alright. I have everything I need. Which is to say, I have nothing I need. From this store. Specifically. I'm sure the products are lovely. They just aren't for me. At this time. In this context. Thank you."
Theo nodded and turned back to Cyrus, who had returned with an enormous shopping bag stuffed with tissue paper and lingerie. "No, that's all for now. Just these and then we'll be on our way."
They walked to the register, where Cyrus began scanning items with trembling fingers. The total climbed higher and higher, each scan adding another outrageous number to the screen. When the final total appeared, Kota felt his stomach drop.
"One thousand five hundred thirty dollars and sixty seven cents," Cyrus announced, his voice slightly strangled.
Kota's jaw dropped. That was more than his dad made in a week. That was more than their monthly rent. That was an insane, incomprehensible amount of money to spend on underwear and lace.
Theo pulled out his card and paid like it was nothing. He didn't even look at the total. He just tapped the screen, signed with a flourish, and accepted his receipt with a polite "Thank you, Cyrus. You've been very helpful."
As they walked out of the store, the massive shopping bag swinging from Theo's hand, Kota shook his head in disbelief. "I'm never going to get used to that."