Chapter Text
Roy barely had time to shower.
Waylon had needed help moving his lair the night before, and while Lian had met him, Killer Croc, plenty of times, he didn’t feel like dragging his baby girl with him into the sewers of Gotham City in the middle of the night, so Uncle Jay had babysat.
The task had taken longer than expected when their movements had been noticed by the local birds and rather than helping out with a few boxes, the feral little Robin had burst through, batarangs flying, regardless of the known fact that Croc just wanted to be left alone these days.
The whole thing had dragged on, and it wasn’t until Batman, radiating tired dad energy, came by to pick up his kid by the scruff, that they managed to finish the job.
Roy could relate.
God help him if Lian ever decided to become a vigilante.
Which she wouldn’t.
Ever.
Never ever.
He made a mental note to put in his will that his daughter should never go to Bruce Wayne in case he died.
It wasn’t likely that anyone would put her in Batman‘s custody, but weirder things had happened.
Maybe Jason was right, and he should get a girlfriend, if only so that his daughter wouldn’t end up as the next Robin in case he died.
Anyway.
He had come stumbling home at five in the morning, stripped in the hall and crashed on the couch, not even making it into the bed.
He woke up at nine, cursing Ollie for making him an appointment at ten.
Objectively it wasn’t that bad a time, but Roy was feeling bitter and blaming Ollie for stupid problems always made him feel better.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t actually blame Ollie for the fact that he apparently didn’t have any more of his usual underwear.
Which was weird because he could have sworn that there were several pairs amongst the laundry he had done the day before.
The only ones left were some that Lian had bought him in a sweet and naive gesture because he had once told her that he loved the zoo.
It was a triple pack with animal prints that Jason had been ever so helpful in buying.
He picked the zebra print ones as leopard print felt a teensy bit too much like bad porn from the 90’s. He wouldn’t even consider the one with the elephant head at the front, shaped to make his dick look like the trunk.
He wrinkled his nose at the mirror. Jason had bought them one size to small and while the elastic didn’t dig into his skin, they were embarrassingly tight.
At least he didn’t have a date. That would have been disastrous.
With that in mind, he dug through his hamper, intending to throw some laundry in the wash, only to get confused when he didn’t find any underwear there either.
He closed his eyes and turned his face skyward, silently begging for strength, not to kill his best friend.
He hated Jason’s pranks.
He was officially running out of time if he were to make it to his appointment though, so he rushed to put on some cargo pants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, and stormed out of the apartment.
…
He didn’t know what to expect.
Ollie had made the appointment. Apparently, he wanted to introduce Lian to society or whatever and him and Dinah wanted to throw a party for her. Or a gala. In her honour.
As her father, he was of course going to attend, but Ollie insisted on getting him a new suit.
It was the first time he had a suit tailored especially for him. When he was younger with Ollie, the suits for those little shindigs usually just kinda turned up in his closet.
With this thing, he had no idea what he was walking into.
Ollie had given him a card with the time and address and levelled him with a look. “Be there. This is where I go for all my suits.”
Then he had promised to pay for it and wired him an obscene amount of money for ‘additional expenses.’
What kind of additions there might be that could feed a family of four for two years, Roy didn’t know.
He was annoyed and had tried to send the money back, but somehow it ended up in his account again any time he tried.
He put it in a savings account for Lian.
The building was... cute.
It was light blue with white trim and looked entirely misplaced between the concrete blocks and glass facades it was surrounded by.
The inside was just as cute.
A small bell jingled when he came through the door that closed itself behind him.
“Just a minute!” a voice called out from somewhere deeper into the boutique and Roy moved through the room, slowly taking it in.
One wall had ties. Another had hair accessories. There were a few mannequins up, but not the creepy kind that are supposed to look like people.
It was small and kind of quaint. Not what he expected from Ollie at all.
“Bonjour!”
He didn’t jump, but it was a close call. He had to be too preoccupied for someone to sneak up on him like that.
He turned his head to be met with an absolute vision.
She was short and petite. Her hair was black but shone blue in the bright light from the spot in the ceiling above them.
“Uh… hi,” he managed to say, ever so eloquently.
“You must be Roy Harper,” she said with a sweet smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
She didn’t pronounce the ‘H’ in his name so it came out like ‘arper, and he couldn’t explain why, but it made him melt.
“Yeah, uh – that’s me. I’m Roy ‘arper – uh Harper.”
She made a small giggle and Roy knew his cheeks were turning bright pink.
“Follow me please,” she directed, leading him further into the place and into a smaller work room.
She guided him to sit in a chair in front of a large desk. The back wall was covered in folders with papers sticking out irregularly.
A pot of tea was already waiting on a tray, with two cups and a small plate of some fancy-looking French cookies.
The woman poured them both a cup and silently offered him one of the treats.
He took a pink one. Pink was always the best candy.
“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but you can just call me Marinette. I understand that you need a suit?” she prompted as she sat down at the desk.
Roy nodded slowly. “I gotta admit that I’m not that picky. Just put me in whatever.”
She giggled again and made a barely there headshake that he was sure she didn’t want him to notice.
“Well, is there something you don’t like then? So I know what to avoid?”
Roy frowned, thinking back to the times he had to wear a suit. To be honest, he didn’t have a big problem with suits. It was more the connotation than anything else. He had never worn a suit in a situation that could be called pleasant. Being groped at by sycophants was not his idea of a good time.
There were a few things though.
“I guess I don’t want it too tight? I tend to fill out clothes. My uh – my arms in particular.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, looking him over. Her eyes lingered where his biceps were stretching out the fabric of the otherwise loose-fitting hoodie.
She nodded slowly. “Anything else?”
“If the fabric could be a bit soft, that would be awesome. I hate scratchy fabrics.”
She pursed her lips. “I generally try to work with high comfort material.”
“That’s uh – that’s it, I guess.”
She nodded thoughtfully before rolling over to a nearby drawing table for a frankly gigantic set of colouring pencils.
She chose a few and made a very rough outline that could probably become a drawing of a suit at some point.
“What do you think of these for colour?” she asked, showing him the drawing.
The dark grey worked really well with the dark forest green she had picked for the lining and the shirt in a green tone that was just a bit lighter.
It was just… Green. Green Arrow green.
He grimaced slightly and leaned in over the table a bit. “I love it, don’t get me wrong, but does it have to be so… green?”
She cocked her head a bit. “You do not like green?”
He sighed and pursed his lips. “I do. It’s just that this is Star City and Green Arrow is –“
She cut him off with a scoff. “Green Arrow does not have a monopoly on the colour green. He does not own green. Green would suit you well. It would look beautiful with your hair and your beautiful green eyes. I will make this for you and Green Arrow will be jealous because he cannot make green look as good as you can,” she ranted.
Roy couldn’t help the smile that stretched on his face. “You like my eyes?” he asked, and her cheeks turned pink.
“They uh – they have a nice colour.”
“Thank you.”
She cleared her throat. “Right. So, you would like the green?”
Roy laughed. He couldn’t very well say no after that speech. “Let’s make it green.”
Her smile was amazing. He wanted to see it more.
She nodded and made some notes on the paper with the rough sketch.
“Now, I just need your measurements. If you could take off your clothes down to your underwear, and stand on that platform over there, I will be right with you,” she directed, pointing at a small, raised platform at the corner of the room, before busying herself with drawing.
Next to the platform was a small changing room that Roy scurried into, suddenly acutely aware of the too tight zebra-print underwear he was wearing under his cargo pants.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself as he slowly took off his clothes, bit by bit.
“You can keep your socks on,” Marinette called from the other side of the curtain. “The floor is a bit cold.”
Roy nearly whimpered when the pants finally fell around his ankles.
He was going to fill Jason’s helmet with itching powder.
Or maybe he could rig a device inside the helmet that would turn Jason’s hair pink on contact.
He looked down at his poor dick that looked more like a zebra-printed, vacuum-sealed sausage.
At least it didn’t look like a cocktail wiener.
Taking a deep steeling breath, he walked, in his underwear of shame and black tennis socks to the podium.
Marinette finished the sketch and turned around with a swish.
Her eyebrows when high on her forehead when she saw him. “Oh putain,” she exclaimed, eyes fixated on the spot where his dick was virtually fully visible.
Unfortunately, said dick chose to react to her attention with a small twitch.
“Right!” he exclaimed loudly to snap both of them out of it before the situation could devolve any further and she hurried to his side with a measuring tape and a notepad.
Her fingers were slightly cold against his overheated skin as she measured his shoulders and his arms. He preened a bit when her eyebrows went a bit higher on her forehead when she noticed how big they were.
She worked quickly, quietly, and efficiently, but suddenly, as she was about to measure his back, she stopped, slapped her hand over her mouth and turned around, her shoulders shaking.
Roy had no idea what to do. Was she crying? Should he ask if she was okay?
“Uh – am I done?” he asked instead.
She shook her head quickly, but still didn’t turn around.
Roy was at a loss.
Then caught his own reflection in the mirror.
‘I should have taken the leopard print,’ he thought to himself.
What he in his hurry hadn’t noticed about the zebra print underpants, was that across his butt the word ‘Animal’ was written in thick, hot pink, swirling, 60’s inspired lettering.
She wasn’t crying.
She was laughing her ass off and trying to keep it down.
A small giggle punched its way out of his own mouth, followed by another and then another until he was all out laughing.
He put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around to find her face completely red and tears in her eyes from suppressed laughter.
He couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“They were a gag gift from my friend and my daughter,” he explained.
She finally took a deep breath but kept giggling.
Every time their eyes met, they both broke down again.
When they finally composed themselves, Roy’s entire face hurt from laughing and she had gotten hiccups.
“Your daughter has good taste,” she teased.
He grinned even if the stretch sent an ache though his facial muscles. “I’m afraid she got that from me. I’m the only influence she has. I feel pity for her for that.”
“I’m certain it isn’t that bad,” she tried consoling him, but the effect was diluted by the remnants of laughter in her voice.
Roy snorted. “I don’t do ‘pretty’ very well,” he assured her.
“I think you do pretty just fine,” she told him and cleared her throat when she knelt in front of him to do measurements on his legs.
The piece de la resistance came when she got up in front of him, slipped the measuring tape around him to measure his hips.
She looked at the measuring tape with professional detachment, but her fingers were brushing right up against the elastic band of the ridiculous underwear.
His dick twitched again, and so did her lips before she cleared her throat again and moved away.
“Right, uh – yes! You can get dressed again if you want. Or you probably want to. To cover that,” she gestured at his ass, “and you probably need to go home, or work or somewhere, to your daughter, and clothes are – clothes are good. I make clothes,” she rambled and knocked into the desk with her hip.
He gave her a small smile and went back into the changing room.
When he got out, she was sitting at the desk, sketching furiously.
The suit was already coming together.
“Hey uh – do you do dresses too? For little girls?” he asked.
She looked up at him, beaming excitedly. “For your daughter? Of course!”
He gave her a nervous smile. “Great. So, I’ll just –“ he pointed his thumb at the door.
“Right.” She got up and followed him out. “I’ll call you for another appointment when I get somewhere with the suit. Then you can bring your daughter along. I’d love that. Maybe we can make you match.”
All Roy could think was that maybe they could make all three of them match.
Marinette would probably look good in green too.