"I--whatever fabric he wants is fine. Whatever wine is fine, as well."

It's strange to be so uncomfortable being touched like this, when nightly he opens his body like a feast. But he isn't the same person then as he is now.

Jumps a bit, when Mulligan's hands and measuring tape take his inseam. He hadn't been sure, if this event really was to be just a fitting, when he was getting ready. Thomas was buying his time after all, and so he'd prepped himself, and worn slim white stockings with garters. Not obscene, but...well, maybe a little obscene.

There's no real way to ask Mulligan to be careful without giving himself away as some kind of pervert, especially when it still seems likely his pants may stay on for the fitting.