Re: [The Capital Mall: Atticus & Janus]
Janus, utterly unaccustomed to anything about upper education, glanced sideways at his companion to see if that crack about grading was a joke or not. Something in Atticus' face must have answered it regardless of his intent, and Janus smiled again, the small one. Janus swung along with his hands down, moving different in this body than he did in any other because it felt different, the weight of his shoulders settling straighter on his spine without the weight of breasts, the narrowness of the hips making him stride a little longer, and a little wider. He was at ease in the big mall full of distracted crowds, dodging through the maze of big paper bags and designer strollers made of titanium.
He felt Atticus' touch like the man had been shuffling around on carpet, and he glanced back at him, pleased, before returning a considering gaze to the storefronts. He looked at the designers' offerings, fall colorings at the moment, most of them a decent match for Atticus' indeterminate-white-boy coloring. Fortunate fellow. They'd pass on the trip slacks but more of the fitted wool coats and less of the sweaters. "Spelling?" he asked, distracted. Usually talk of academia made Janus uncomfortable, made him feel stupid, but he was multitasking.
Eyes lighting on a likely candidate, Janus abruptly plowed sideways into Atticus, driving him into a narrow bronze portal of glass. When the door closed behind them it was like the noise had been cut off entirely, replaced by mellow top-forties and piped-in cologne from the AC. Janus made hard eye-contact with the man on his right, a besuited fellow who worked there. The store had an Italian name and custom manikins wearing man bags. "Do you have that shirt in the window in more colors? More neutral. The jacket brighter? For him." Janus manhandled Atticus' shoulders again like they were opposite players in a major league jockey game. "Which way to the changing room?" He pushed.