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Kaladin had learned plenty of new details about Adolin through the early days of their relationship, like how particular he was in the way he organized his closet, or the way Kaladin would never again have personal space as he slept, since Adolin clung to him so tightly, as if he had to ability to lash himself to Kaladin.
None of these were much of a surprise, but by far the strangest habit was his apparent hatred of Kaladin's clothing.
The first time it happened was after their first night spent together.
* * *
Kaladin woke slowly, soft morning light shining on his face. His head lay on Adolin's warm chest, his arms wrapped around Kaladin's waist.
"Good morning, beautiful," Adolin murmured, fingers carding through Kaladin's hair, pushing curls away from his face. The movement uncovered the brands on Kaladin's forehead and Adolin leaned in, placing a kiss directly on the scarred skin. Kaladin blushed, turning to hide his face in Adolin's shoulder.
"Good morning," Kaladin whispered, then rolled on his back, stretching his arms above his head. Adolin shamelessly let his eyes wander down Kaladin's bare chest. A smirk grew across his lips, and Kaladin felt his blush deepen when Adolin's eyes met his, lids heavy and pupils blowing wide. His breath caught, and he looked away quickly, making Adolin chuckle.
"What is it? Surely you aren't embarrassed, are you? You shouldn't be, especially after last night."
Kaladin groaned, his stomach flipping at the way Adolin's voice had dropped, and covered his face with both hands.
"You can't do this to me, not today," Kaladin said, his voice muffled by his hands. "I have to get up, I have too much to do-"
"Kal, don't leave yet," Adolin interrupted, and Kaladin felt him shift closer, resting his cheek on Kaladin's arm. "Surely you can get out of duty for at least a day. You could stay here. In bed. With me.”
Kaladin sighed and dropped his hands, looking down. Adolin pouted, batting his eyelashes, and Kaladin couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head, still chuckling as he moved to the edge of the bed. The blanket that had covered them pulled with him, then fell off as he stood.
"Well, if this is the view I get in the morning, maybe I shouldn't complain too much."
Kaladin looked back at Adolin over his shoulder. He had moved, laying on his stomach, chin propped up on one hand. He grinned, and again let his eyes roam down Kaladin's body. Kaladin only scoffed and began to pick up his scattered clothing, trailing through the room where Adolin had tossed them away the night before.
"You really are ridiculous. You know that, right?" Kaladin called, shaking the wrinkles out of his coat. He heard movement behind him, and a shadow fell across him as Adolin reached past him, grabbing the clothing out of his hands.
"Adolin, what are you-" Kaladin's sentence was cut off as he spun to face Adolin, who was backing away with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"Can't show up to work if you don't have a uniform," Adolin said, clutching the clothes to his chest and running away. Kaladin sighed, following him across the room.
"Adolin, please, you made your point. Can I have my clothes now?"
Adolin shook his head fervently, moving out of the bedroom and towards the window. Kaladin's eyes widened and he moved quickly, crossing the room in a few long strides.
"Adolin, that is the last uniform I have, they haven't gotten me any replacements yet."
Adolin bit his bottom lip, pausing from the way Kaladin's tone had changed from playful to earnest. He glanced to the side at the open window, curtails flowing gently, then looked back at Kaladin.
He smirked, and Kaladin's stomach dropped.
"Adolin, don't you dare-"
He lunged forward, but Adolin, ever quick on his feet, dodged Kaladin's grasp, laughing and grinning like this was the most fun he’d ever had.
"I'd like to see them force you to report for duty now."
Kaladin's uniform went flying into the early morning breeze.
"Adolin," Kaladin hissed, running to the window and looking out. The Kholin blue uniform fluttered in the air, landing directly in a puddle of crem-filled water left over from the highstorm the previous day. Kaladin groaned as he recognized several of his own men from Bridge Four walking past, on their way to relieve the night guards. They slowed, then stopped, looking at the clothing before looking up to see Kaladin - and Adolin, who had joined to watch the clothing fall with pride in his eyes - staring down at them.
"Hey, gancho," Lopen called. "I don't think this is where you're supposed to store your clothes. Maybe try the prince's closet next time."
Kaladin let out a frustrated growl, turning and walking away as Adolin peeked out, waving at the men and greeting them.
"Storming men and storming princeling," Kaladin grumbled to himself. A heartbeat later, Adolin's arms were wrapping around him from behind.
"What was that, my darling?" Adolin asked in a syrupy voice.
"You get to be the one to request a new uniform, immediately." Kaladin turned in Adolin's grasp, wrapping his arms around Adolin's neck. "And you get to explain why I won't be properly dressed today. I'm taking one of your uniforms."
Adolin's eyebrows scrunched together, and the corners of his mouth tugged down.
"You can’t do that, you're too tall. They won’t fit right."
Kaladin shrugged, stepping out of Adolin's hold and returning to the closet. Adolin's protests continued as he followed.
"This is absurd, you're going to look ridiculous. My shoulders are wider than yours, too. The sleeves will be halfway up your arms, and the pants, don't even get me started on the pants."
Kaladin ignored Adolin's continued babbling, choosing a uniform at random and pulling on the shirt and pants. Adolin's complaints subsided as Kaladin turned, pulling a belt through the loops of his pants. He looked up as he fastened the buckle, then smirked at the way Adolin stared, mouth dropping open slightly, eyes wide. As he watched, Adolin's cheeks flushed a dark red. Kaladin cocked his head and stepped forward, looking down into Adolin's eyes as he approached.
"Something wrong, my dear?" Kaladin asked, dropping his voice dangerously low. He felt a thrill at the way Adolin's eyes darkened, and he visibly swallowed as he looked Kaladin up and down.
"No, nothing at all," Adolin's voice cracked and he cleared his throat, trying for nonchalance. "No, I was just worried about the fit, that's all."
Kaladin hummed, shrugging on Adolin's coat. The fit was strange - slightly too short, loose at the shoulders, but tight around his biceps.
But, well, what could he do? It would have to work until he could get his own clothing again. Kaladin leveled his gaze on Adolin, who was still trying to cover just how flustered he was at the sight of Kaladin in his clothes. Kaladin leaned down, giving him a peck before moving to retrieve his boots.
"Enjoy explaining to Dalinar why the Bridge Four Captain's uniform is in a puddle in the middle of the street," he called, looking over his shoulder one last time at Adolin, who stood, dazed, in the doorway. Kaladin grinned and winked, just to see Adolin's blush darken again before exiting the room.
* * *
Kaladin could have passed off the event simply as a ridiculous act of defiance if had only happened once. He expected such moments from the prince - he was dramatic and flashy in everything he did. It was one of the things Kaladin loved most about the man, though he would never tell for fear of making Adolin even worse.
What Kaladin did not expect was a repeat of the incident, and on their expedition across the Shattered Plains, of all times.
“Adolin, don’t you dare,” Kaladin begged, stepping towards the man, who held the uniform Kaladin had worn the day before. “Don’t even think about it. We aren’t in the camps, I can't just go back to the barracks to grab more clothing. I only have one other set with me, and it’s, well…”
Kaladin trailed off, thinking about the soiled uniform and how it had been dirtied. Adolin had been proud of that too. His cheeks heated and he shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the issue at hand.
The issue was in the form of a gorgeous man already dressed for the day in a stylized uniform with wide cuffs and the Kholin glyph embroidered across the back. And the issue was backing away towards the tent opening. Kaladin glanced down at his thin, worn-down linen shirt and pants, something he only ever wore in the privacy of his - or Adolin’s - room and stifled a groan.
“Adolin, I am begging you. We don’t all pack three trunks full of clothing for an expedition, and I really don’t want to be forced to wear your clothes again.”
The moment the words left Kaladin’s mouth, he realized he made a mistake.
Adolin’s eyes shot to his trunks, open with different articles of clothing hanging off the sides and on the surrounding ground, and he smirked.
“No, that would be a shame,” Adolin agreed, voice heavily intonated. Kaladin narrowed his eyes. “I would simply hate to see that again. Though, you did look quite dashing wearing my uniform, I must say.”
Kaladin closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose to calm his frustration. When he opened his eyes again, Adolin was gone, tent opening flapping in the wind.
Kaladin swore and ran out after him.
It was still early, but there were already a few people awake and milling around as they began their day. A few grooms were tending the horses, and some of Bridge Four had gathered around while Rock prepared breakfast.
“Morning, Kal,” Teft called, waving a hand then pausing when he noticed the clothing Kaladin wore and the furious expression on his face. His eyes followed in the direction Kaladin raced, then widened when he saw the prince heading straight for the edge of the chasm.
Oh, no.
He wouldn’t.
Would he?
Syl flew around Kaladin as a ribbon of blue light, giggling.
“Oh, I think he would,” she said, then shot off after Adolin.
Kaladin could hear laughter from his men as they realized what was happening, and a few of them whistled and shouted after him. He would have to deal with them later.
Kaladin caught up to Adolin just as the man stopped at the edge. He turned, grinning at Kaladin.
“Adolin, I swear by the Almighty’s tenth name, if you drop those clothes I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” Adolin interrupted, cocking his head in mock confusion. “Push me off the edge into the chasm? Storm off and glower at me for the rest of the day? Be forced to wear my clothes and look fashionable for once?”
Kaladin rubbed his face with both hands, then dropped them, trying to give Adolin his best pleading expression.
It almost worked. Adolin hesitated as Kaladin attempted a wide-eyed pout. Then he shook his head, straightened his back, and promptly dropped Kaladin’s uniform into the chasm.
* * *
Kaladin had learned his lesson. He requisitioned more uniforms, and kept them stored in Adolin’s closet.
He also kept a spare uniform, hidden away in Sigzil’s belongings, as Kaladin figured he was the least likely of his men to aid Adolin in his odd quest to rid Kaladin completely of his own clothes.
Kaladin was no idiot, he knew Adolin continued the habit of tossing Kaladin’s clothes to the wind simply because he enjoyed seeing Kaladin wear his clothes.
The thing was, Kaladin also enjoyed wearing Adolin’s clothes. It brought a kind of satisfaction with it, walking around the warcamp wearing Prince Adolin’s clothing.
It wasn’t like their relationship was a secret. Gossip had spread quickly once they were spotted out on their first date. The heir to the Kholin princedom, courting a darkeyed man, a former slave and bridgeman, a captain - the news had dominated conversations for weeks.
So, no, being seen in public wearing Adolin’s clothing wasn’t exactly inappropriate, and it wasn’t a secret nod to an affair of some kind, but it did toe the line of what the more strict of Alethi considered proper.
Kaladin didn’t care. He liked showing off that he was Adolin’s, and Adolin liked seeing Kaladin in his clothes. They both won this way, though neither would ever admit it.
* * *
It had been months since Adolin had stopped trying to rid Kaladin of his clothes. Part of Kaladin missed the frivolity of it; yes, it had been silly, but it had also been fun. He didn’t often get the chance to feel his age, to relax and just be a young man. It had been nice, letting himself enjoy the experience of being young and in love. But things had changed, and it was no longer time for flippant behavior.
After the Everstorm appeared and brought the Voidbringers with it, Kaladin and Adolin found themselves with less and less time giggling in bed together. Adolin found himself in an endless cycle of meetings while Kaladin trained his squires and practiced his own skills as a Windrunner, all while joining Dalinar in discussions about battle tactics and running missions.
But somehow, in the midst of the all the chaos of the end of the world, they had somehow found time for a wedding.
Kaladin had hoped for a small, quiet ceremony, something that wouldn’t cause too much of a stir.
Adolin, of course, had a very different experience in mind.
When all was said and done, Kaladin had to admit - it had been fun. He had enjoyed the traditions and ceremony; he even enjoyed wearing the matching robes Adolin himself had designed.
Kaladin had enjoyed it even more when Adolin had taken the robes off of him once they retreated to their quarters at the end of the night.
The next morning, Kaladin woke to a chill breeze and soft morning light, early enough that the sun was still rising. His husband was not beside him, curled around Kaladin as he normally would be.
Kaladin rose from the bed, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around himself to shield his bare body from the cold air, and stepped into the other room.
The doors to their balcony had been flung wide open, and Adolin stood at the railing, leaning back with arms folded around a bundle of fabric and sporting a smirk on his face.
“Adolin, what are you doing out here? It’s too cold and too early for this.”
Kaladin’s complaints died on his tongue as he saw what Adolin held.
It was the rest of his uniforms.
No, it wasn’t just his uniforms.
It was all of his clothes.
Granted, Kaladin didn’t have much beyond the uniforms he cycled through. He wasn’t Adolin - he saw no reason for an excessive amount of outfits in a wide range of styles and fabrics.
“You’re my husband now, Kal. I’ve gone on as long as I can, but I can’t do it any longer. If you’re going to be a Kholin, your wardrobe has to have an upgrade.”
Kaladin groaned and walked forward, joining Adolin. Kaladin wound his arms around the prince, wrapping them both in the blanket, and dropped his head onto his shoulder with a heavy sigh.
“I thought you had gotten over this,” he mumbled into the fabric of Adolin’s shirt. He could feel Adolin laugh in response.
“Oh, I did for a while. But, you know they say old habits die hard. How about one last time?”
Kaladin released his husband and stepped back, nodding as he tightened the blanket around him to ward off the cold air.
“It’s symbolic, in a way,” Adolin continued, turning to look out across the mountain range that was now being painted with the colors of the sunrise. “Moving on from everything we were back then, so we can become something new.”
Kaladin’s heart soared as stepped closer to Adolin, looking down at him. He placed his hands on Adolin’s waist, leaning into his warmth, and rested his face against the side of Adolin’s head, dropping a kiss into the mess of blonde-black curls.
“So we can be something new together,” Kaladin concluded. He could feel Adolin’s smile as he tossed every article of clothing Kaladin owned over the balcony. The wind caught the clothes, whipping them away from Urithiru and into the snowy mountains below.
Kaladin sighed, wrapping his arms all the way around Adolin.
“Guess you better take me to your tailor,” he said in Adolin’s ear. He was rewarded with possibly the brightest smile Adolin had ever given him.
“Kal, that may be the best thing you’ve ever told me,” Adolin said, eyes shining as he turned to see Kaladin’s face.
“Really?” Kaladin asked, deadpan. “Not the oaths I swore to you yesterday? Not me constantly telling you how in love I am, but this? Telling you to take me to your tailor, that’s the best thing I’ve ever said to you?”
Adolin shrugged, then looked back out over the mountains.
“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I can say it’s tied with the wedding oaths.” Adolin amended.
Kaladin could only chuckle and shake his head.
“Storming princeling,” he grumbled as he turned his husband in his arms and pulled him in for a kiss.