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"I have never seen this man in anything other than a suit." He's seen him outside of suits. Seen him put on tactical vests overtop his suit. Robes, Clint thinks, do not count as clothes and are inapplicable to the situation. "Imagine how wild he would get with a few drinks in him. He might loosen his tie. Unbutton a single top button. Really get wild and crazy."

Leah does not argue any of these points, which Clint is going to count as a win.

"Hey, who says I would take him on vacation anyway? And some sun wouldn't kill him. He doesn't have to tan; I'm not sure he's capable of it. Put on some sunscreen and go drink some maitais in a bright Hawaiian shirt at a tiki bar. Go swim with dolphins. Or," with a look at his partner, "are you more of a mountain guy, get bundled up and go skiing?"

"Where can I go to read quietly for a few days?"

"Phillip, you are no fun." Leah walks over and swats his knee with her little notebook. "You're young and need to do more than work. I'm going to pick some fabrics. You two behave yourselves."

She totters off into the store and Phil gets up to approach Clint. He gently touches the edge of his wrist, "How are you feeling?"

Is he still enjoy this? Because Phil is. He's excited to see what Leah picks for Clint and what will look good on him. Even in his imagination the tailored suit and vest is perfect to accent Clint's broad shoulders and trim waist.

"You need more than a staycation," Clint muses, even if Leah has already wandered off. "Go to a mountain lodge and curl up by the fire in a cozy sweater and drink hot chocolate and read, but at least it'd be away from here."

There's enough action in both of their lives as it is. And a lot of travel, too. Vacation can't possibly hurt, though.

"I'm good. I'm here to be your dress up doll, and you're gonna help me look all fancy and fitted."

"You're here." Phil keeps his voice soft but Clint's presence is enough to encourage him to stay in New York. There's also work which never seems to let up. There's always some crisis that requires his attention. Staying in New York is the better option.

Since Leah is not paying attention he smooths his hands down Clint's shoulders. "You have no idea how attractive the idea of a vest on you is to me. If you want me wrapped around your finger this might be the way to do it."

He can admit that much at this stage in their relationship. He trusts Clint won't take the wrong sort of advantage.

"And purple is a good color on you. With the right suit it'll be very good on you."

"I don't have to be here."

They could quite literally go anywhere they want. If Phil wanted it.

It isn't quite public, but it's a lot closer and bolder than Phil ever gets out of them being perfectly alone. Clint's sure hands are less sure now, not knowing quite what to do with them. A light touch at Phil's elbow. "Joke's on you; I'm pretty sure you're already wrapped around my finger." In a sense. "If you have a thing for vests, how come you don't wear one more?"

"Do you like cabins in the woods?"

Maybe it's time things changed a little. They're away from prying eyes at SHIELD where the rumor mill is endless and very creative. He wants to spare Clint any rumors that said he only made it this far because he's sleeping with his handler. His own reputation he's not worried about.

In the tailor's shop he can be a little more bold and a little more openly affectionate. If Clint takes it well. He can see there's a little confusion, a little uncertainty. He takes his hands back.

"My body shape doesn't look good in a vest. I'm boxier than you. It only makes me look broader instead of slimmer." He explains.

"You want me to chop some firewood and show off my arms while you stand at a window pretending like I don't see you watching me?" He's pretty sure specific destination doesn't matter overmuch. So long as it's cozy for Phil. "And a phone rule. Emergencies only. Actual emergencies, like world ending emergencies."

Which is all what he says to keep himself from furrowing his brow at how the brief touch is just as quickly gone. Clint shoves his own hands in his pockets, leaning back casually on his heels.

"I don't know anything about that. What vests do for shapes. Just seems like extra fabric." He'll wear it, though. He trusts the opinions of people who are much more knowledgeable on this shit than him. "She mentioned corsets..."

"If you're in jeans and I can look at your ass, yes." That's fairly bold and open for them too. They're usually more subtle about their flirtations in public. Phil's rarely so bold about his attraction.

And a vacation together would be a big step forward. It would be harder to deny they are lovers in a relationship and actually dating. It's an interesting step forward that Phil is willing to take if Clint is.

"Yes, some men wear corsets." Phil says with a little nod. "Sometimes it's to look slimmer than they are. Sometimes it's for sex. Sometimes they just like to feel pretty."

He tilts his head at Clint. "Why? Do you want to wear one?"

Clint is realizing that they're going to have to have a conversation, probably several ongoing conversations, and god, as usual, he's not going to want to have any of them while Phil needs to be sure everything is clear.

Hm. Like the idea of a romantic dinner and the implication of date being put in a box. Boxes for everything.

"I know guys wear corsets, Phillip." Will he keep using the whole name? Probably as long as they're here, yeah. "It just had never occurred to me that someone would even bring it up to me. Even if I apparently don't have the right shape for it."

"You don't need one." Phil is resigned to being called Phillip for awhile. Clint will draw that out until he gets bored of it. It doesn't bother him. Strangely it makes him think of getting in trouble as a child. "You're already slim."

He looks over Clint's shoulder as Leah returns with a few bolts of fabric, mostly dark greys and rich purples. He tilts his head so that Clint will turn around though it's likely he's seen her in the mirrors already.

"Come here," she orders as she sets the fabrics down. "Test the weight of these in your fingers and see what you'd like to wear."

Phil steps back and gestures for Clint to go. "I'll pick from what you'd like to wear."

Which seems to indicate that Phil as no particular fantasies or desires about Clint in a corset, so, he won't be asking about that. Not that he'd do so now anyway, not with the woman of the hour wrangling all kinds of fabrics with ease instead of looking bogged down by any of it.

"Here it comes, my hardest assignment," he jokes before stepping over to the table of Things To Potentially Put On His Body (For Fun And Profit).

Leah clicks her tongue. "Don't worry, I've seen plenty of people come in that don't know their bolas from their bowties. I'll make you look like a star."

"Yeah," he says a little absently, running fingers along a bolt of steely grey, "I was afraid of that. Not really built for a spotlight."

Built for Phil's spotlight, though. The intensity of his attention. Like nothing else in the world matters. He feels it all out, a few a little stiff for his liking, some light and fluid, touches cute paisley patterning and subtle pinstripe and black and dark grey stormy grey highlight purple dark and brooding purple. He doesn't really know what he's looking for, style-wise, but as far as weights go he indicates a few bolts that feel like he'll be able to move in them without too much restriction should the need call for it.

It might be not the greatest sign that he wants something nice and fancy like this to be combat ready.

"Jacket and pants and a vest are only part of an outfit, though. Gotta think about shirt and tie to go with. Maybe simple matching colors, let the vest stand out? Or match the tie to the vest?"

Leah hums. "And pocket square."

"...Is a pocket square necessary? It's just like...a handkerchief, right?"

"Phillip, dear, he keeps showing so much potential and then his mouth keeps going and ruins the illusion."

He watches Clint closely as he examines the fabrics. Clint will pick certain things, ones he can fight in if it comes down to it. And yes, that's a possibility with their job even on something simple like a steak dinner. Bad guys don't keep to a schedule.

But he knows Clint well at this point. He knows that there might be something he really likes but it's too fancy or too expensive looking and he won't let himself have it. Even though he wants it. Clint focuses on need and the practical. This suit isn't about practical. Phil plans to give Clint what he wants and needs. It seems to be his default around the other man more and more.

"All he needs is the potential," Phil says in Clint's defense. "He can learn the rest."

If Clint ever decides it's worth his time. He might not but he has a way of surprising people who underestimate him.

"But you're right. The shirt and tie should be muted so the vest stands out. Usually, the shirt will match the jacket to fade into the background. The tie can still stand out if you want," Phil explains with patience, like he's running through mission details and not the finer points of men's fashion.

As long as Clint's comfortable with the whole thing Phil's fine with it. Leah probably can't tell but Phil is excited for this. Clint, if he's paying enough attention, will pick up on the subtle signs of it. They know each other that well by now. More importantly, Phil doesn't mind if Clint knows.

This is, on a practical level, for Clint. But he knows that this is really for Phil, who expressed a desire and an excitement (even a sexual one) to get Clint all gussied up in very nice fabrics that he'd chosen for the archer and then play the game of trying very hard to keep his hands to himself until a more appropriate time.

All Clint really knows is he likes himself a cozy flannel, and beyond that, well, then things ought to be practical with a few standout sexy pieces. Nothing quite like leaning on a bar with a pair of jeans that hug every curve and a shirt that rides up just so when he stretches his arms, for instance. This? Is a whole new level. So yes, he's thinking practicality, but it's nice to know that Phil, who has more working knowledge of this area, who this is all really for, is going to be able to narrow things down and make other suggestions to make Clint look his best and set practicality aside as only a secondary concern. Or, at the very least, take it all into consideration and somehow whip up something that's exactly what Clint never realized he needed. Which seems a much better outcome.

Phil, who is definitely feeling that excitement. It's subtle, but Clint smiles in spite of himself, because he sees that light in Phil's eyes, catches a tone in his voice.

"Okay," he says with a little nod. "So it's more building an outfit around the piece rather than it being an accent piece."

"Mm, it can be just like that," Leah agrees, and reaches over to give his arm another pinch. "We'll need something that gives you room but also lets you show off, but attention will be drawn more toward center mass."

"Just what I need, a bright target."

"You're not a deer, dear."

"I'll get you an all black suit next time," Phil says with some amusement. Now that Leah has Clint's measurements he can get Clint a suit anytime he feels like it. Which, honestly, won't be often.

His job requires a suit but Clint's doesn't. They don't go out to fancy places often enough to make multiple suits necessary. The idea, though, that he could get Clint in any suit of his fancy is nice.

God, he really hopes this isn't a sugardaddy thing. Phil will feel like an idiot if that turns out to be a thing of his.

Leah scoffs. "Even in all black he wouldn't disappear. Not with how good I'm going to make him look."

Phil privately agrees. Leah's suits are Phil's favorites for a reason. Clint's going to never fade into the background with one of them on.

"You can get me as many suits as you want so long as it's on your card." Clint points at Phil. "This is going on his card, by the way." He has no idea how much this will run, and he isn't exactly poor (anymore), but he imagines the amount would still make him wince.

"I know he's good for it, every time. Every cent is worth it, I promise."

"He has to come to you for good reason. His suits are sure always snazzy." Clint motions for his partner in fashion to come on over. "Pretend I'm stupid, which shouldn't be too hard, and tell me what you think." He indicates a couple bits of fabric across the table. None of them are the subtle pinstripe promised for the whole racing stripe joke, thank god. "These feel like they won't weigh me down. I'm not worried about the feel of the vest since it's just a vest, worst comes to I'll just unbutton it."

"Just a vest," Leah tuts just loud enough to be heard.

"Look, given she's as good as she says, is there any chance I can't rock any combination of any of this put together? Hard to narrow things down at that point."

"You're not stupid," Phil says automatically.

He also means it. Clint is not stupid. He's intelligence simply isn't towards fashion. No one can do math in their head like Clint can. One of these days he's going to convince Clint of that.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Clint he considers the fabrics and picks out the one he likes the best. It's a lighter grey but it will still look good on Clint. Everything looks good on Clint, though, even if the archer doesn't believe him when he says it.

"This one for the suit itself," Phil says, setting it aside. Leah makes a little sound of approval too. He has had a great deal of practice with this. "And I think something darker to contrast..."

He picks up a bolt of purple that's so dark it's almost black. People won't be able to tell unless they're up close.

"Oh, Phillip, stop taking it easy on the man. Make it pop!" Leah rolls her eyes and picks a brighter, bolder purple from the bunch. "Here. Give him some color."

Phil looks towards Clint to let him choose.

Phil usually only lets Clint be self-deprecating when he's mad about something, but still, it will not kill anyone to let him joke and get away with it. "We're just pretending I'm stupid," he murmurs.

He's a little surprised at the choice given Phil had seemed interested in something darker. Could he, maybe, get away with two suits? To mix things up. Obviously. "Hey, if we're gonna go color, let's go color." Bold it is. He reaches for said purple and lays it by Phil's choice of suit. "You sure it's not gonna look too groomsman-y? Or like I'm a valet? Maybe go with a dark shirt and tie to make it stand out more, unless that's gonna be, I don't know, too busy."

"How black tie are we talking? Bow ties only, or do we have more wiggle room?"

"Uh." God, it's so much easier when he's getting his kit fitted for work; he doesn't have to do any of this finicky shit. "Wiggle room, definitely."

"Then we can work wonders. Black shirt, black tie, let the vest speak for itself as he centerpiece with the suit to frame it?" She's gone back to her notebook, scribbling and sketching. "Or we could really work the purple, match the shirt, dark tie to break it up, hm, or keep the whole outfit bright and cheery, white shirt classic, purple tie..."

He's pretty sure she's talking to herself at this point, actually. "And a handkerchief." Just to be annoying.

She flaps a hand at him without looking up. "I'll let my violence in the workplace policy go if Phillip decides to smack you."

"You're lucky he's not asking for a flannel suit." Phil can tell Leah's in the creative stages and she'll need time now. A suit isn't made in a couple of hours even from someone who's sewn and tailored their entire life like Leah.

"I'd throw him out." She considers Clint for a moment. "Though he could do well in a kilt."

"Let's go with two options," he says glancing only once at Clint to make sure that works for him. "Something that's bold and one that's more subdued. How long do you think it'll take before he can come back for the final fitting?"

Leah looks up from her sketching and stares at them for a moment. Phil knows she's going through her calendar and current workload in her head. "For you, Phillip? I'll make it in a week."

"Don't strain yourself."

She waves a hand. "I can tell this is important. A week."

Phil nods. "If you've got any last minute requests, Clint, I'd make them now. She'll be too busy for us in a few minutes."

Which was fine. They'd spent enough time here and two suits was originally more than they planned. It's been a learning experience, he's certain.

"I have no idea if I have nice calves, but let's leave the tartan aside for another time." Or never. Maybe never! Hm.

He glances at Phil and shrugs. Ask for some big inside pockets? Enough room for a shoulder holster and a pistol? Room for fun unspecified gadgets?

Focus. This is for nice events wherein there is no expectation of anything going wrong. Not for a mission.

"We'll see you in a week, then."

Phil bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from commenting on Clint's calves. They're nice. Very strong. Feel great when they're wrapped around his waist and trying to pull him closer. He's not going to mention anything about Clint's calves but he will think about them.

"Thank you so much, Leah. You're incredible as always." Phil leans forward and kisses her cheek. "Tell Calvin I say hello."

"Oh, Phillip, stop making him jealous." Leah swats Phil's arm and begins to gather up the fabrics selected to take to the back of her shop where the work is done.

Phil briefly puts a hand on Clint's back to get him moving towards the door. Once they're outside he looks around the street and then looks at Clint.

"Do you feel up to grabbing dinner or would you rather go home?" Because that was a lot of new things all at once and probably felt a little invasive. Phil will understand if he wants comfortable flannel and no one poking at him.

There's that implication in giving him the choice. It could simply be because this is new, with several more implications that are spinning through his head, but it rankles. Just a little. Not enough to say anything, because Phil's being Phil, and Phil loves giving him choices and making sure he's comfortable.

But for fuck's sake, it's not like this is post-mission being dropped off in the middle of fuck knows where doing some wild and crazy shit and needs a wind down from. It's clothes. He can handle doing something a little new in his personal life for the sake of making Phil happy.

"Split the difference," he says instead, "and grab dinner to go on the way home. You gonna pay for that, too? Am I gonna end up with a tab when we're all said and done?"

"You're paying for dinner." Phil turns towards home. They have a few favorite places along the way that they can stop at. He'll even let Clint pick since he's making him pay.

He puts his hands in his pockets as they walk, occasionally scanning the street out of habit. "What did you think of her?"

It might be strange but he wants Clint to like his tailor. He's getting sentimental or something in his old age. Or maybe it's comfortable. This is his personal life that he's sharing, something that's important to him.

Feelings can make things so silly sometimes.

"Good; I might've busted out the s-word again if you insisted on that, too." And they're not talking about that word.

"I can see why you like her. It's a nice place, small, out of the way, not some busy big name celebrities might go to. And seeing as we all know how your suits are, I know she does good work. Sassy old lady. I can dig it."

He glances at Phil sidelong. They should talk. They really ought to talk. What comes out instead is: "We're taking Lola to go to fancy dinner, right? Gotta show up in style when we're already in style."

They can talk when they get home. They were about due for a serious conversation given how long it had been since their last one. Things were changing again between them. It isn't major, he feels. Just a natural progression.

"Yes, we'll take Lola." Phil will get her detailed before then just so she looks extra beautiful. "She hasn't been out in awhile."

He holds up a finger before Clint can talk. "And no, you don't get to drive her this time."

He does, in general, trust his car to Clint. But for this fancy date he wants to drive because he likes driving. It's relaxing for him, especially when it's not a high speed chase through crowded streets.

"Yeah yeah. Someday I'm gonna convince you to let me fly her, though." He can pilot a quinjet like nobody's business; surely he can fly a car without crashing. Probably.

"Did you have fun? I mean, did you like doing this? Or is it kind of more the buildup for me actually putting the whole thing on?"

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