Selection: Excellent, Service: Poor (The Quiet Earth, Zac, T)

[wallwalker]

Title: Selection: Excellent, Service: Poor
Author: Wallwalker
Fandom: The Quiet Earth (film)
Rating: Teen and Up
Characters: Zac Hobson
Word Count: 678
Content Notes: None
Notes: Written for kink_bingo as part of a double line. The prompts were "Silk/Satin/Feathers/Fur" and "Dress-Up" (including crossdressing.)

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Zac had never seen himself as the sort to break into clothing stores if he had the chance. But then again, he'd never seen himself having the chance, so there you go. The days since the Event had been spent indulging himself in every sensation he could think of. This was just the next in line.

He had walked into one of the high-end clothing stores in the city. No way he could've ever considered shopping there, on his salary. He'd passed it by a few times, admiring a silk shirt here or a fine wool suit there, never considering the possibility that he'd ever feel any of those rich fabrics against his skin.

And yet... there he was in the echoing silence of the hall, not even the usual classical music playing over the speakers to keep him company. He'd have to bring a cassette player with him next time, remedy that. That much luxury all around him deserved some elegant music, he thought.

He must have tried on a dozen suits that day alone, staring at them with a critical eye, running his fingers along the fabric admiringly. So this was how the wealthy lived, he thought, smiling to himself. How very brilliant. They really kept a good racket away from the rest of the world, didn't they?

After a while he grew bored with the suits, and started trying on other things - silk shirts, velvet coats, anything that he passed that caught his fancy. He didn't bother going into the dressing rooms after a while - there was no one to see, and who cared if he left clothes on the floor? Besides, by that point he didn't even need the mirrors anymore. He didn't care how the clothes looked; he just wanted to feel them against his skin. He took, after a while, to running through the store in nothing but a pair of silk boxers that had cost as much as twelve of the old cotton ones he'd once worn, pulling whatever he fancied from the racks.

It was glorious. And not a clerk in sight! Zac had always hated shopping for clothes. He hated the way the clerks would always come to him and bother him for extra sales, ask if he needed anything often enough that he eventually ran out of polite ways to turn them away. He knew very well that they just wanted more of his money, but he was already spending his money there, so really, what more did they want? But now he didn't have to justify his browsing to anyone. And there was no one to complain behind his back about what a terrible customer he was, either. If shopping had always been like that, he might've enjoyed it more before.

He ran out of interesting outfits in the menwear department soon enough, but that didn't stop him. No one was around, as he had said, to see a grown man pull airy blouses and beautiful dresses from the racks and struggle his way into them. And he made a discovery that he had never had the opportunity to make, namely that women's clothing, in many ways, felt softer and better than men's, although for the most part they didn't fit nearly as well.

The day ended with Zac lying on the floor, wrapped in a ladies' mink coat and a fine silk dress with a feather boa - lying back on the carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling. Another pile of clothes - delicate lace and airy linen mingled with exotic leather and thick, rich velvet - lay behind him, more things he had pulled from racks and hadn't bothered to put back.

"Thank you," he said to himself, the first time he'd spoken since he'd walked into the shop. "I'm only... looking. For now." The words echoed through the empty floor, with no clerk to respond to them.

Zac felt a tear forming at the corner of his eye, but wiped it away quickly with his fingers. Staining the silk would be a terrible waste, wouldn't it?