Chapter Text
“Hey Dabi…”
“Yeah?”
“Remember when you said you’d come with me as my plus one for events?”
“Is there one coming up?”
“Yeah…you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I know you like a lot of the old cultural stuff…”
“Is it the Emperor’s annual birthday celebration?”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll come with you, birdie.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, haven’t been in a long time. Are there any other ones you need to go to?”
“This one for sure. The hero gala at the end of the year too. Maybe one day when I’m no longer in the top 10, we can skip it.”
“Hmm…alright. There’s also a few I want to go to, mostly to network, get sponsors, and get the word out for the Project.”
“Okay, let me know when they are.”
“You sure you’ll have time, birdie?”
“I’ll make time. Gotta support my husband, after all!”
“You romantic chicken.”
“Not a chicken!”
“You are what you eat.”
“Daaaabiiiiii!”
“Heh. C’mere.”
The image of elegance stared back out from the mirror. Dabi critically gazed at his outfit. The haori was a dark navy with an increasing density of snowflakes in various shades of blue and white from top to bottom. The hakama top was the same shade of navy as the haori, and the bottom was a solid light gray. It was a week before the party, and Dabi had finally settled on his chosen outfit.
Making the purchase, he vaguely wondered what Hawks’ would look like in traditional wear. The man went everywhere in his hero gear, and mostly relaxed in sweatpants and a casual shirt or tank at home. He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember a time when Hawks wore a suit to any formal hero events, and came up empty. It was acceptable for heroes to continue wearing their gear at formal hero events, after all.
Pulling out his phone, he called him.
“Heeey hotstuff, what’s up?” Came the chirping lilt of Hawks’ voice over the phone.
“What are you wearing to the celebration next week?” Dabi asked casually as he continued his way back to the penthouse they called home.
“Uhh the usual?” Hawks sounded confused.
“Okay, but what’s the usual?”
“My usual hero gear, of course.”
Dabi froze. “What.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Let me get this straight.” Dabi flatly stated. “You’re planning to wear your current hero outfit, that ugly jacket with the fur, those oversized baggy pants, gloves, boots, eyegear…?!” His voice rose and continued to rise with each item listed until he ended on a shriek of horror.
Hawks warily responded. “I’m starting to think something’s wrong…”
Dabi groaned in frustration. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He facepalmed. “Please tell me you wore something different the other years you were invited,” he begged, “ Please .”
Hawks’ nervous and sheepish laughter came over the phone. “Ah…haha….”
“How come no one said anything to you?!” Dabi exploded incredulously. How the hell had people just been letting one of their top heroes parade around with no sense of social etiquette?!
Hawks quietly eeped. “I don’t know, I got some weird looks, but no one ever really said anything…” He trailed off. “Oh! I think Ryukyu once asked me if I was sure that’s what I was wearing, but I was already at the event, so it didn’t really make sense to me…” Hawks trailed off.
Dabi sighed, annoyed. It wasn’t other people’s fault the Commission didn’t teach Hawks proper etiquette–actually, he wouldn’t be surprised that they just assumed Hawks would know how to identify which was what, not realizing that knowledge gained from a textbook wasn’t quite the same as knowledge from social interactions and experience. Or perhaps people just assumed Hawks was being purposefully rebellious like his reputation as an upstart indicated. “She was trying to give you a hint, birdbrain.”
“...oops.” Hawks admitted uneasily. “But the Emperor didn’t say anything, so it should be okay, right?”
“Unless the Emperor told you directly that it was okay to come in your hero gear, it’s technically a social faux pas that you didn’t attend in traditional formal wear to show respect.” Dabi said dryly.
“...so how bad is that?” Hawks asked apprehensively.
Dabi pondered. “Emperor Yoshihito is known to be an easy-going, but righteous man. Since you’re one of the top heroes and technically doing Japan a great service by keeping its citizens safe, he might’ve just allowed it as an eccentricity. But it’s still a social faux pas.” He deadpanned. Arriving home, Dabi opened the front door and slipped inside, gently setting his bag on the ground, and switching the phone to the other ear as he settled in and sank onto the couch.
Hawks was silent on the other end of the phone.
Dabi hummed as he flipped through his calendar. “When’s your next day off? We’re going to do this right this year if it’s the last thing I do. You are not embarrassing me in front of the fucking Emperor by being poorly dressed.”
“Haha, I’m sure it’s not that bad…” Hawks tried to placate jokingly.
“Hawks.” Dabi’s voice could only be described as stony. “It reflects poorly on my manners if I let you do that as your spouse. We are not burning that bridge.”
“Urk.”
“Now when’s your next free day?”
“Ummm…technically I’ve been scheduled….all week?” Hawks gingerly ventured.
“...Nope. You’re taking tomorrow off. I’m calling Suzuki to schedule it. Come home on time, bye.” Dabi decided and hung up.
Hawks was left staring at his phone in slight panic.
EXTRA:
“Hold still!” Dabi gritted his teeth as he attempted to adjust the fabric.
Hawks warbled miserably as he tried to stand still. He’d never had a fitting done before. He was glad that the tailor let Dabi be the one to take his measurements–-he really didn’t want a stranger near his wings when he had a choice, though he also suspects the heteromorph tailor also just didn’t want to get a painful faceful of feathers.
Finally, Dabi let out a sound of relief. “Done.” Handing over the information to the tailor, they were told to return in 3 days for their customized rush order.
A sad cheep came from Hawks as they left the store.
Dabi sighed affectionately. Hawks did put up with an hour’s worth of manhandling, but Hawks would thank him later when he realized they came to this specific tailor so that Hawks could still have his wings comfortably attached and unhidden during the whole party. “C’mon, let’s go get some fried chicken. My treat.”
Hawks visibly perked up and trilled happily.