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“Not bad,” Hugo says, dipping his hors d'oeuvre into the bubbling champagne. “You know, for a wedding.”
Varian rolls his eyes. “And what do you, pray tell, have against weddings?”
“Besides the part where everyone cried over a government sanctioned union? The lack of drama . I’ve been more entertained at funerals.”
“I don’t know, the ring bearers disappearing halfway through the ceremony and then showing up last minute covered in-- I don’t know what, was pretty dramatic.”
“You have literally been possessed by the demon of your dead mother.”
“I was fine.”
Hugo snorts, placing his empty champagne glass onto a passing waiter’s tray. “You and I have very different definitions of fine, sweetheart.”
“Fine, so we’ve attended more entertaining venues. What do you want me to do about it?”
Hugo grins, eyebrows bouncing up and down. “I might have a few ideas.”
Varian blinks after his boyfriend, who has suddenly disappeared into the wedding crowd. Unsure whether to go after him, or just embrace the chaos that’s going to unfold with or without his intervention, Varian bounces on his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of his deranged boyfriend.
The orchestra plays a few bars and Varian immediately slaps a palm to his face.
“This is the most terrible day of my life,” Varian says, as Hugo saunters back over to him. The violins in the background, playing a fucking tango . Varian doesn’t know how he convinced the orchestra to take requests, but doesn’t want to ask.
Sometimes, with Hugo, it’s better to live in ignorance.
“What are you doing?” he asks flatly, as Hugo comes to a stop in front of him, the smirkiest of smirks on his dumb face.
“Wanna dance?” Hugo drawls, holding a hand out enticingly.
Varian makes eye contact with Rapunzel across the room. Rapunzel is laughing so hard she snorts wine up her nose.
He looks back at Hugo.
“I don’t dance,” Varian replies, flatly.
“Yeah? Just like you don’t ‘do boyfriends?’” Hugo asks, doing visible air quotes with his hands that makes Varian further irritated.
“I can’t dance,” he says, through gritted teeth.
“Aw, really?” Hugo takes Varian’s hand anyway and begins to gently tug him toward the dance floor. Various dance partners around them are doing incredibly dramatic renditions of the tango --the most notable being Lance and Eugene who are absolutely killing it.
Hugo sharply tugs on Varian’s arm, reeling him into his side with a flourish. “Don’t worry,” he says, teeth gleaming sharply in the candle light. “I won’t let you fall.”
Varian’s face burns so red he can feel the heat radiating from it.
Being the taller of the two--and the one who can actually dance --Hugo takes lead, guiding Varian through a series of complex moves that make his head spin. It’s more complicated than a waltz--the one dance Varian did vaguely know, via watching Eugene and Lance engage in their weird, homoerotic, rituals--with far more moves involved.
Hugo guides Varian back and forth on the dance floor, spinning him every few moves. “Keep the upper half of your body stiff,” he whispers to Varian, looking amused as the blue-eyed alchemist squawks at being dipped. “And the lower half--” his smirk literally cannot get more smirky then this moment, “-- flexible .”
“I have never hated anyone more than I hate you right now.”
“Good we can use that. Dance like we’re about to have hate-sex.”
Varian sputters. “We’ve never had hate-sex!” he hisses, maybe just a tad too loud for a public setting. A courtier, spinning one of Rapunzel’s ladies-in-waiting around, promptly drops her. Hugo snickers.
“Not yet , we haven’t.”
Varian gives Hugo a flat look. Hugo spins and drops him into another dip. “Hugo, I’m not having hate-sex with you tonight.”
“Well of course not.” Hugo picks Varian up into a quick, graceful lift, and drops him back on the floor in time to the accompanying music. “That would imply that you hate me.”
“No, it would imply that we’re going to fuck tonight.”
“What? Dancing doesn’t make you horny?” Another dip over Hugo’s knee.
“No,” Varian dryly replies, blinking up at Hugo. There are tiny gold flecks in his green eyes that are positively mesmerizing. “No, it does not.”
They both stop the twirling and dipping and go back to the general movement of the tango, gracefully sliding down the dance floor. Varian thinks he sees Eugene dip Lance out of the corner of his eye.
Hugo reels Varian in close. Very very close. Their noses brush, lips a breath away from touching. “But arguing does ,” Hugo murmurs, with the confidence of someone who’s gotten Varian in the mood just from picking a fight over why polonium was the best periodic element.
Varian flushes all the way down his neck. Hugo pulls away just as the last few strains of the song cry out across the ballroom. With a grin, he slinks away, back toward the food buffet, hips doing that weird saunter that Hugo thought was sexy.
Dammit , it was sexy.
With a groan, Varian follows.
“Hey Varian,” Rapunzel calls from a few feet away. Varian grins, redirecting his path toward her.
She truly looks beautiful, white wedding dress with an insanely long train that’s reminiscent of her once-long hair. The look on her face, however, does not match the elegance of her gown.
“I thought you didn’t dance,” she says, grinning in a way that’s just a little too evil.
“I don’t,” Varian says, erring on the side of defensive.
“Hmm, well that was an awful lot of something for someone who doesn’t .”
Varian thinks Rapunzel is hanging around Hugo too much. Or Cass. Or Eugene. Or-dammit, are all of Varian’s friends secretly evil? That’s supposed to be his thing.
“Hugo is persuasive,” he says, flatly.
“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Rapunzel continues grinning. “He’s also checking you out, right now.”
Varian spins on his heel, just in time to see Hugo watching him with intent . The minute they lock eyes, Hugo grins sheepishly.
“I need a fucking leash for him,” Varian mutters.
“There are so many ways I could respond to that,” Rapunzel sighs. “Varian, go take your boyfriend somewhere else before he ends up making out with you on a table or something.”
“We’re not going to makeout on a table!” Varian hisses, throwing his hands up in the air as he stalks toward his boyfriend. Said boyfriend looks just a little too excited at Varian’s glaring.
“Oooh, is this the part where you murder me and hide my body in Corona’s sewers?” Hugo asks, as Varian drags him out of the ballroom.
“Hugo, shut up,” Varian snaps, completely done with his boyfriend’s idiocy.
“Make me -mmphff -”
Varian spins his boyfriend around, pressing him into a nearby wall. He has to stand up in his tip-toes to kiss him, but it’s entirely worth it. “Did you just dance with me to make me mad so I would have sex with you?” Varian asks, when he pulls away.
Hugo, who’s brain hasn’t caught up beyond Varian’s kissing me , gapes at him for a moment. “Uh, maybe?”
“I hate you, you’re ridiculous,” Varian says, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice.
“Is that a no on the-”
“Shut up.”
Hugo grins, bending down to press his lips to Varian’s so Varian doesn’t have to strain himself. Varian lets himself be kissed--lets Hugo run his fingers through his hair, and brush his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and sigh contentedly into him.
The slow, gentle strains of a waltz float out into the corridor. Hugo pulls away, something between a gentle smile and an amused grin present on his face.
“Wanna dance?”