Blame It On The Boogie

To his credit, Baldric did not return in kind Romeo’s snip. He merely took the disapproval of the time it took for him to retrieve the shirts and get back and kept schtum.

Baldric had mastered long ago the art of appearing attentive and flattering without really getting too het up about who it was he had to serve. It was this skill that he employed then, bringing a tight smile to his lips before drawing the curtains back around Romeo.

With a heavy sigh, Baldric ran his fingers through his hair and sat himself back down on the pouffe. He rubbed his neck, groaning a little under his break as he found knots beneath his skin.  A massage was in order but he knew his mother wouldn’t be able to do anything for him tonight. Her miracle hands were off elsewhere, doing charitable work in Eastern Europe for a few days with some women’s organisation or something. It’d have to wait.

At the scrape of the rings holding the curtain across the suspension bar, Baldric looked up, his eyebrows shooting upwards towards his hairline at the sight of Romeo that looked more rent-boy than alluring other half but still managed to look...well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

Baldric swallowed. Hard.

He managed to spit out a chuckle and rose from where he was sat.

“It’s something, alright.” He allowed himself to say that much as he folded his arms over his chest and coming to stand behind Romeo. Baldric looked into the mirror, finding a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. “Only thing is...what happens if you bend over or reach up or something? I think the seams might split.” He chuckled now, finally giving into his amusement that was born more out of awkwardness than it was true disapproval.

Baldric raised an eyebrow and a smirk quirked at his lips as he breezed past Romeo, picking up the other shirts as well as the boy’s original one.

“Well, if it’s a jostle between the sheets that you’re looking for then you’re going to be in luck, mate.” Baldric called over his shoulder as he fixed the jersey on its hanger. “Is that it or do you want this one for lazy days when you’re not trying to impress?” He held up the one he’d originally chosen before adding, “In fact, have it. On the house.”

Bertie snorted as he said it'd tear at the seam. He was going to make a joke that the only reason it'd tear is if a girl was delving into it but he restrained himself. Being overarragant was something he usually saved for the quidditch pitch. It had worked well in past quidditch matches, unleashing the built up angst.

Romeo looked at the shirts that Baldric was holding. Not returning to the changing rooms he lifted the tight shirt over his head and handed it to Baldric. 'I'll just have the one.' Taking his usual shirt from Baldric and putting it on he called over his shoulder. 'Oh and I'm always trying to impress.'

It was true, even if he wasn't impressing girls he would dress to impress his own reflection. Boost his ego even more and make his younger brother hope and wish that he grew into a physique that Romeo had. Reaching the till he bypassed the que and went to the end one that was currently 'closed'. Surely that'd be the one Baldric would be going to, after all the rest were occupied.

Closing the deal happened rather quickly. Part of Baldric’s mind lamented that it was too quick for anyone to really start ribbing the other and the whole experience had been too civil. It almost left a bad taste in Baldric’s mouth but he was sure much of that had come from the cigarettes and not from Romeo’s presence - delightfully awful though it had been.

Gesturing for the Slytherin to follow him, Baldric moved out and back into the main room of the shop. The counter where he and Luke were stationed typically was swarmed with people all hankering after Luke’s help and his ability to scan labels and have money exchange hands as quickly as possible.

Baldric almost felt bad for them, knowing he wouldn’t be of help yet.

Slipping behind the counter, Baldric took the bottle of water that Luke had been drinking off of the small shelf underneath and took a swig before putting it back and reaching over for Romeo’s jersey.

After scanning the label, taking the hanger away, folding it and slipping it into the bag, Baldric reached up, scratched his fingers through his hair and inputted the price into the till.

“That’ll be ten Galleons.” He intoned, despairing mentally that it was fifty pounds in Muggle currency.

After the exchange of money, Baldric managed a smile for Romeo and said the other line the company depended on him to deliver.

“Have a nice day. Thank you for shopping at Quality Quidditch Supplies.” Then, a more human note: “Enjoy your match, Romeo.”