Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 42

Freddie was leaned over the counter, distracting Mary from her job as per usual, when the bell above the entrance rang. The couple both looked up from their intertwined hands and back at the door, where they saw a shy, timid character walk in. It was clear he'd never been to the store before based on what he was wearing—a pair of tattered, stonewashed jeans, a loose white button-down, and a pair of rainbow suspenders. Freddie's eyes widened at the atrocious sight, immediately drawing him away from Mary as he waltzed over to the guest.

"Well, hello there," he greeted, startling the blonde who was looking around the fashion store like it was a museum. He flashed him a warming grin and continued with the employee's spiel that he'd memorized by heart from spending so much time there with Mary, "Welcome to Biba, darling. Can I help you find anything?"

The guest slipped his hands into his pockets, his shoulders falling forward as he admitted in a low, quiet voice, "Uh, yeah. I'm looking for something...erm, sexy."

"Sexy, huh?" the dark-haired man repeated, nodding his head in understanding as he scanned the store with which he was quite familiar. He'd assumed the blonde was looking for something for his girl, since that's what most men walked into the boutique for, and so his eyes locked on the lingerie section. "Come with me," he insisted, grabbing the guest's hand and dragging him over to that part of the store, ignoring the amused expression that appeared on Mary's face as she watched Freddie in action. "What's her favorite color?"

"Pardon me?" the blonde replied, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Your girl, what's her favorite color?"

A deep blush appeared in the guest's cheeks, his head hanging low as he confessed in a whisper, "It...It's not...um, on second thought, I don't think I can afford these things. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

"No, wait!" Freddie exclaimed, grabbing onto the blonde's wrist before he could get far. The two locked eyes, and it was in that moment that the dark-haired man saw through the blonde's rough-and-tough, albeit poorly dressed, exterior. He'd seen him a few times before at a place he'd never admit to Mary he almost went to on the daily, just not like this and not so close. It felt strange seeing him out of character and so covered up, and it was even stranger hearing his voice. One wouldn't think that a voice like that belonged to a face like his.

Freddie slowly retracted his hand and slipped it underneath his arm, crossing them both over his chest as he brashly assumed, "You're here for you, aren't you?"

The guest's cheeks grew even redder, incriminating him almost instantly.

The corner of the dark-haired man's lips perked up into a smirk as he broke the awkward blanket of silence that had fallen over the two of them—interrupted only by the faint music playing over the fashion store's speakers—with "Well you came to the right place." He winked. "I think I have just the perfect thing for you."

"And so, I helped him pick out a few outfits," Freddie wrapped up his story, omitting many of the stodgy details in exchange for a casual sip of red wine and a glance over at Mary who'd stifled a laugh. "What?" he questioned.

"You didn't just help him pick out a few outfits, Freddie," she reminded her fiancé with a sense of resentment, like she'd been holding a grudge all these years, "You spent the whole damn day with him! First you made me pay for everything you had him try on, and then you took him back to our place where I found you and 'im passed out on the couch, dressed in me clothes with makeup smeared all over your faces like children who'd gotten into their mum's cosmetics."

He met Brian's intrigued gaze and explained candidly, "We had a few drinks and decided to put on a little fashion show."

"Little?" Mary interjected before the professor could even respond, "You went through my entire wardrobe and tossed it all about the flat! Not to mention that you tore down our curtains for a makeshift runway."

"Hey." Freddie stuck a pinky in her direction. "That was Roger's idea, not mine. And anyways, who's heard of a fashion show with no runway?"

The blonde rolled her eyes and poured herself yet another glass. Brian had been keeping count for her, and this was her fourth. He knew from dating her that after four drinks, she started to lose her sensibility. He doubted she'd remember this come tomorrow morning.

"So," the dark-haired man blurted out, snapping the professor out of the daze he had fallen into, wondering how many drinks he would have to have to do something like putting on a fashion show or dressing in women's clothing, "To answer your first question, Brian, yes. I've known about him all along. But does that change anything? No."

"Of course it does," Brian argued, shaking his head, "It changes everything."

"Why?"

The professor's eyebrows furrowed together at Freddie's response. "Why?"

"Yes, why does it change everything?" Freddie elaborated on his question, sitting back in his seat and crossing his free arm over his chest, "He's still Roger, is he not?"

"Well, yeah—"

"Then I think I've made my case, dear," the dark-haired man ended the dispute, snatching the bottle of wine from Mary and refilling his glass. He looked over at Brian and asked, "Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?"

Brian stared at Freddie for what felt like an eternity before heaving a defeated sigh and picking up the glass set to the right of his plate, wordlessly extending it out to him. The dark-haired man grinned and tipped the bottle over, filling the professor's glass to the rim.