[Rem]

Eric strolled around the store, fingering this item and that item idly, barely paying attention as Mikey made his mad dash around to gather up the pieces of whatever "outfit" he was putting together; circus clown, voodoo, alien, medieval elf from some fantasy realm--? Eric had no idea how he was going to come out, but he didn't bother to notice until he heard the chime of the door and saw Mikey sprint across the street to gather more materials. What the hell--? What was he putting together?!?

Mikey disappeared into the dressing room before he had a chance to say anything, and he paced outside the room, half expecting to hear the noise of power tools from behind the door. All he saw were pieces of clothing that didn't seem like they matched and some bright colors. But nothing prepared him for what the boy was actually wearing. "Wh--" he blinked, blinked again and for a minute didn't realize his jaw had fallen open. "...huh." He eyed the outfit, gaze traveling from that hat -- good god that was green -- to the coat, to the skirt, to the stockings and shoes, and back up again. "Well then." He cleared his throat, eyes locked on that tiny skirt and then slowly grinned. It was bright, bold and brazen -- much like the boy himself -- and he wasn't about to order him to be dull. Besides -- he looked hot. He looked -- mmm very hot.

He stepped closer, brushing his fingers over the outfit, tracing the cincher and running down the skirt to finger the stockings, his fingers brushing over Michael's thigh, teasing up the edge of the skirt. A slight smirk curled the corner of his lip. "Nice," he said. And that was all he said, turning to stroll over to the door, to wait for him. "Pay for it and let's go."