Work Text:
Neuvillette isn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or fascinated.
He knew that getting Wriothesley a new set of clothes would be a task. The Duke does not enjoy the Fontainian fashion as a baseline, and Neuvillette has heard him grumbling about ruffles and spats and trends that only last five months more than once. Wriothesley prefers his clothes practical, comfortable, and durable. An understandable opinion for the Duke of Meropide to hold, if you asked Neuvillette—but even though it was understandable, it did not change the fact that Wriothesley needed at least one set of well-tailored formal clothes for the increased amount of functions Neuvillette planned on scheduling him to attend.
The Iudex is not a possessive man. He is simply… very intent on maximizing his time with certain individuals. If their clothing matches in the finest details, that’s nothing to squint at. Wriothesley’s symbol on his pocket square and Neuvillette’s teardrop symbols dripping down Wriothesley’s overcoat are simply a coincidence and hold no greater meaning to the general populace.
But of course, such finery warrants a trip to the Chioriya Boutique, for if Wriothesley is to be convinced to have one set of formal clothes, they must be of good quality. Besides, Neuvillette trusted Chiori’s eye. She’d find something that worked for his dear Duke with ease.
Well. That is what he’d thought prior to Wriothesley actually stepping up to be measured.
One of Neuvillette’s favourite things about both his dear Duke and about Chiori was that they were undeniably direct. There was no room for misunderstanding or misinterpretation, and as he’d come to learn, Neuvillette was not always skilled at reading the more subtle aspects of conversation. With Chiori, it meant he always got the best quality of clothes with no aspect of the design being unintentional. With Wriothesley, he could feel comfortable in the knowledge that the other man would nip any problems in the bud and give the two of them space to thrive alongside one another.
When Wriothesley and Chiori were put in the same room, that shifted.
“You cannot have a jacket of that thickness in this climate. You’ll sweat through the fabric.” Chiori was saying. Wriothesley stands on the podium, watching her with a mix of amusement and wariness as she darts around him, measuring this and that.
“It’s not a good outfit if it can’t be laundered.”
“Obviously, but with those materials? You’ve got a better chance at defeating one of the Dragon Sovereigns in hand-to-hand combat.” She scoffs. Neuvillette does his best not to speak up. She’s right, but he knows that Wriothesley had enough gall to try and win anyways.
“Well, no one says it has to be made of these materials…” Wriothesley tilts his head pointedly. Chiori gives him an absolutely withering look, as if she couldn’t believe he could ask such a thing.
“As I recall, someone has! And he’s standing right next to you, in fact.” Both of them crane their heads over to Neuvillette, who clears his throat awkwardly at the sudden attention.
“That fabric is in style nowadays.”
“But that doesn’t mean it’s a requirement, right?” Wriothesley smiles as if they were in a boxing ring, not a tailor’s. “Why not break the mold a little bit, right?”
“You’d stand out like a sore thumb,” Chiori mumbles. “At least with this design.”
“Change the design then.”
“It’s a matching set, I can’t!”
“Change both designs then,” Wriothesley replies. “Surely Monsieur Neuvillette wouldn’t mind?” They make eye contact, Wriothesley’s smile only growing. It's filled with nothing but challenge. Neuvillette considers. They wouldn’t be with the current fashion, and they may just miss the next trend entirely. The designs may not be as timeless—but Chiori always seems to like a challenge, and always works miracles with whatever task Neuvillette gives her. Their style would be unique, and only he and Wriothesley will have clothing with the specific techniques and fabric the Duke is asking for, if the previous habits of the Fontanian populace are anything to go off of.
Neuvillette is not a possessive man. A streak of pride still shoots through his chest at the thought of Wriothesley’s clothing being even more subtly unique and matching his own outfit in an even more individual fashion.
“...well, it wouldn’t be that much of an issue for you to make some minor edits, Chiori.” The seamstress drops her head and groans and Wriothesley smirks, pressing a tender kiss to the back of Neuvillette’s hand in the moment that Chiori is looking away. Neuvillette smiles at him, adoration flooding him, and nearly pulls the Duke right off of the podium before Chiori goes “hey!”
“I can make the edits, fine.” She sighs. “At least let me finish doing this first so I can do them in peace.”
“Right, my apologies.” Neuvillette takes a step back, pretending not to see as Wriothesley rolls his eyes nor the way his smirk briefly grows wider. His Duke is a very smug winner, after all.