They have more bags from this fancy store than he's ever taken out of even a department store at once, probably paid more for them than he has on every single scrap of clothing he has ever owned in his entire life. He can feel himself wanting to turn around and return them already, tell everyone that there's been a mistake. His stomach turns over a little, the further they get from the store, the more embarrassing such a thing would be. But Viktor's arm is warm through his and the scarf curled around his neck (which it's maybe a bit too warm for still, but he doesn't care, he's not quite uncomfortable enough to remove it) is soft and then the further they get from the store, the more permanent it seems, the more like something that has happened than something that is happening.

Viktor can feel him relax a little against him and he finally breaks the silence,

"Sometime soon, I probably need more than two pairs of shoes," he offers, a cherry on the sundae of today, "But uh... not right now, I don't think," he flushes, looks away-- it's not that he would mind the shopping now, exactly, but they definitely have somewhere better to be, after the conversation in the dressing room and he wants to be there.