“Sebastian, there is absolutely no point in you wearing an expensive suit if you’re not going to wear it correctly.”
“So you’re saying I can take it off?”
Jim rolled his eyes, straightening out Sebastian’s tie, “No, what I’m saying is that if you don’t tuck your shirt in I’m going to make you wear a yellow suit instead,” he replied.
“I just don’t see why it’s necessary,” the sniper groaned, tucking his shirt in nevertheless.
“It’s necessary because you are standing behind me in an important meeting during which you need to look like a hit-man.”
“I am a hit-man.”
“But nobody will be scared of you if you don’t look like one,” Jim insisted, grabbing a tie pin and fastening it on.
“Jim, we’re meeting with a bunch of Italian men who are shorter than you,” he began, ignoring Jim’s scowl, “I could wear a leotard - no that is not a suggestion - and still look intimidating. But, like this suit, that would be extremely impractical for shooting them all in the face which is in fact what I am employed to do.”
“But you look nice in the suit,” he cooed in response, reaching up to brush off Sebastian’s shoulders.
This time it was Sebastian’s turn to roll his eyes, though he decided not to get into the ‘it’s not important to look nice when killing people’ argument that they must have had at least fifty times that year already.
He sighed, knowing that he’d lost any chance of wearing his usual clothes the moment Jim had walked in holding a suit, the price of which he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.
“I better get to shoot at least one of these bastards.”
“Of course, Sebby.”
((Hope you liked it, feel free to send prompts, headcannon questions and random spam my way))