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Cody had never put too much thought into his clothing. Why would he? All he’d ever known since he was decanted was a life in uniform. Casually, he wore his blacks, on duty, he wore his plastoid armour. Occasionally, he would have to wear military greys, and that was the extent of his wardrobe.
Now that the war was over, Cody found he was in dire need of clothing, and he lamented about this to his boyfriend.
“Cody, darling, I will help you find clothes you like,” Obi-Wan smiled, running his hands through Cody’s hair as they sat together on his coach.
Cody shot him a sceptical look. He loved Obi-Wan, and admired him for many things, but the man could not exactly boast an extensive wardrobe. Obi-Wan’s main decision about his clothing was whether to wear a brown under tunic or a beige under tunic to match his overly brown and beige wardrobe.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Obi-Wan tutted. “I may predominantly wear traditional Jedi attire, but I assure you I have other clothing.”
“I’m sure you do.” Cody agreed, teasingly.
“Right. I’m going to change and then we shall go clothes shopping for you.” With that, Obi-Wan disappeared into the bedroom.
Picking up his datapad from the messy (‘It’s organised chaos, Cody!’) coffee table, the former commander indulged himself in several games of Sour-Berry Smash, though he would rather face General Grievous again than ever admit to his brothers that he played the stupidly addictive game, never mind that he was on level 1724.
“Are we ready then?” Obi-Wan asked, appearing from the bedroom to stand in front of him.
Looking up from his game, it took all of his training to not let his jaw drop to the floor. His General looked decidedly un-Jedi-like dressed in brushed-denim trousers that hugged his figure just right, and a dark green t-shirt that said ‘Phantom’ in white aurebesh writing. The man had somehow even managed to acquire a pair of black lace up boots, rather than his favoured brown standard Jedi boots. Cody had seen his cyar’e both dressed and undressed, yet somehow he was still left speechless at the sight of Obi-Wan dressed in something so out of the ordinary, but so incredibly right.
Cody nodded, dumbstruck.
Walking into the clothing store, Cody felt more overwhelmed than he ever did on any battlefield. Obi-Wan had just told him to pick out the clothes that appealed to him, refusing to influence Cody towards any items in the store.
“Clothing is apart of a person’s identity, my dear. People use their clothing to express themselves, and I want your clothes to express you, not me. It is why the holonet spends so long deciphering what the clothing that senators and celebrities wear.” Obi-Wan explained.
“What do these clothes say about you then?” He replied, nodding at Obi-Wan’s non-Jedi clothes.
“The brushed-denim I picked up in a smugglers den when I needed clothing to blend in. The boots I’ve had since I was eighteen and needed appropriate footwear to frequent the various clubs and bars Quinlan Vos would drag me to. My t-shirt is from a scandalous night when I was seventeen and snuck out of the Temple with Quinlan, Bant, and Siri to go to a Phantom concert without our Masters knowing.”
“So your clothes say you’re a delinquent thief.”
“I’d say conscious consumer. Now rather than bullying me, pick out some trousers.”
Eventually Cody had enough clothes in his arms that Obi-Wan ushered him towards the changing rooms, Obi-Wan sat on the circular stools outside, awaiting the fashion show. Safely inside the tiny changing cubicle, Cody picked up the t-shirt and trousers he’d gravitated to the most. He pulled on a pair of black brushed-denim trousers and a dark red t-shirt, and stared at himself in the mirror. Three years ago, he couldn’t have even dreamed of waring anything other than his uniform. Even now it felt like his trainers on Kamino would appear any second and punish him for wearing natborn clothes. He was just a clone, cannon fodder really, and cannon fodder didn’t wear these clothes. He pinched the fabric of the t-shirt between his fingers and rubbed it between them. It was soft. Softer than any clothes he’d worn before, softer than any blankets he’d slept beneath that weren’t from Obi-Wan’s quarters in the Temple. Catiously, Cody spun around, looking at himself and the clothing in the mirror. The clothes made him feel…like a person. And he liked that.
Tentatively, he stepped out of the changing room and allowed his outfit to be surveyed under Obi-Wan’s eyes.
“Is this…good?” He asked, floundering a little.
Obi-Wan softly smiled at him, such love and fondness in his eyes as he looked back at him.
“Cody, darling, you look beautiful. Does it feel like you?”
“I think it feels like me.” He confirmed.
Cody stepped back into the changing room, looking at himself in the mirror again. The person looking back at him looked like Cody. Not CC-2224, not Commander Cody, but Cody. The Cody he was becoming. He grinned.