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A Reinigen came in on Thursday, a little after five. The shop was empty, had been for most of the day but that was okay. Marty got most of his customers on the weekend, high school kids, hipsters and the like. People who loved combing through other people's junk and finding treasures. This kid was not one of his regulars and didn't seem too happy to be there, skulking in with his shoulders up around his ears and the beginnings of a scowl on his face.
Marty cocked his head at him curiously and the kid had barely acknowledged him, until he let his face shift a little, mouse peeking through. It made the kid stop and blink, before shifting for a split second, letting Marty see whiskers. Marty had smiled at him but the kid didn't smile back, just nodded and hurried past, disappearing deep into the store. Embarrassed, Marty guessed, not delinquent. Marty was good at reading people, he had to be. Anybody as timid as a Mauzhertz learned to read body language at a young age; it paid to know how people were going to act.
He puttered around the front of the store, straightening things up, poking at some of the newer things that had come in before giving in to his curiosity. He wandered towards the back, found the Reinigen with a football in his hands and a frustrated look on his face.
"Do you need help?" he asked, only a little shy because this was a Reinigen he was talking to. Practically cousins on the Wesen family tree, really.
"I'm looking for a present." the kid said and then leveled stony blue eyes at Marty. "For my boyfriend."
Emphasis on the word boyfriend and the kid had a defiant look on his face like he was just daring Marty to make a comment. Marty smiled.
"If he's anything like my boyfriend, he's impossible to shop for."
That startled the kid, wiping the attitude from his face and he looked over at Marty as if seeing him for the first time. Marty shrugged. It was true. Anything Mason wanted, he went out and bought and unlike Marty, Mason didn't collect or even hold material items with the same sort of affection. The kid relaxed marginally, but still remained wary.
"I'm Marty," he added. "I own the shop."
"Roddy."
"Well, Roddy, what kind of thing is your boyfriend into?"
"Sports, hunting. Food." Roddy made a noise of frustration. "He's loaded, okay? He already owns everything he wants. I was stupid to think I could find him anything with the amount of money I have."
Marty refused to let his eyes flicker over Roddy's clothes. It was obvious that as rich as his boyfriend was, Roddy wasn't. Instead, Marty glanced around his shop, trying to remember everything that had come in, anything special enough for a rich kid with a dedicated boyfriend.
Roddy was glaring at the football in his hands and Marty reached out and took it from him. He set it back on the shelf before turning back to Roddy.
“Does he collect anything? Have a favorite sports team?”
Roddy shook his head.
“Not really the collector type.” Roddy quirked his lips, like something was an inside joke. “Likes the Chicago Bears though.”
Marty blinked at that and frowned.
“I’m not sure I have anything from that team.” he fretted but Roddy just waved a hand.
“Nah, like I said, he buys whatever he wants. He’s got a ton of Bears stuff.”
They lapsed into silence, Marty beginning to worry that he wouldn’t be able to help Roddy out.
“Your boyfriend.” Roddy said suddenly. “What did you get him for his birthday?”
Marty flushed bright red, memories of what he had gotten Mason flying through his head. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket, wishing he could will himself not to blush. Roddy made an inquisitive noise, obviously intrigued by his reaction.
"N-nothing." he stammered out, lie obvious and bare. Marty was a terrible liar; Mason had attempted to teach him to lie better before finally washing his hands of it.
"Just let me lie for you." Mason had finally exclaimed, aggrieved and when Marty had slumped in dejection, pulled him in for a kiss. “You’re made for the truth, that’s all. Thankfully, I am not.”
Mason had a certain skewed perspective on life.
Roddy narrowed his eyes, crowded up against him a little. It made Marty squeak and take a step back but Roddy just followed. They were about the same height, Marty probably even weighed a little more but Marty was timid. This Reinigen, obviously, was not.
"What did you get him?" he repeated and Marty sighed, face going even redder. The kid was just desperate, he told himself. God knows when he first started dating Mason, he panicked about these things non-stop. After a year of dating, he still panicked. Just not as often. He licked his lips.
"Uhm, how old are you?"
Roddy blinked.
“Eighteen. Why?"
Well, at least he wouldn’t be giving sex advice to the underaged and getting arrested for being a pervert. He took a deep breath and before he could lose his nerve blurted out,
“Sex!”
That made Roddy jerk back slightly, no longer looming over Marty.
“I mean,” he went on nervously, “something special. Like he gets to spank you or one of you wears women’s panties. Something he’d like but that you don’t do all the time.”
Roddy continued to stare blankly at him and for a moment Marty feared he would get arrested as a pervert after all. Oh, Mason was going to be so angry with him. Mason always said that it was a good thing Marty was so shy because when he did talk, he was so socially awkward, he'd get himself beat up. Getting arrested was going to be so much worse. He got one phone call right? In the movies, people always got one phone call. He'd call Mason's cell phone, the man always had it on him.
And then suddenly, like a switch being flipped on, pink flooded Roddy’s cheeks. He looked away from Marty, coughed a little as if to clear his throat.
“Yeah,” he said, voice a little strangled. “I could see that working. Barry would like that.”
Whatever scenario that had popped into Roddy’s head was enough to bring the faint scent of arousal from him and Marty relaxed, the threat of jail no longer looming over him. He was still embarrassed as hell, but that was preferable to prison time. Emboldened, he clapped Roddy's shoulder.
"See?" he said, "You'll figure something out."
Roddy nodded jerkily, not looking at Marty.
“Yeah, uh, I think I have an idea now...”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, no.” Roddy said hastily, “I got it, I’m just going to...”
He trailed off, taking a few steps towards where Marty kept the clothes. Marty could tell he didn't want to be followed so with one last encouraging smile, went back to the register. He was working on a crossword puzzle when Roddy came back, a dark blue and orange cheerleader uniform in his hands.
Marty rang him up without a word, slipping him a discount when he wasn't looking. A wesen-with-a-difficult-boyfriend discount.
Right before he left, Roddy hesitated, looked back at Marty over his shoulder.
"Thanks." he said awkwardly and Marty had a feeling that Roddy didn't say thank you for much. He smiled at him.
"No problem. Come back anytime."
And then Roddy was gone, disappearing out the door, plastic bag swinging from his hand.
Marty hummed to himself, puttered about the front of the shop for thirty more minutes before it was time to close up. He locked the front door, turned the sign to ‘closed’ and zeroed out the register.
Then he went in the back to see if he had any of those cheerleading outfits in his size.
Mason had been good lately. He deserved a treat.