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It’s midday by the time Hugo finally deems his companions worthy of his company.
They’ve been staying at a small estate in Galcrest, with some friends of Nuru’s family who were kind enough to put them up for the weekend. The last few trials have been grueling--if Varian’s being completely honest--what with the cave of mirrors and the hall of memories haunting Nuru’s nights and Yong’s smiles and Varian’s everything . So a break in what their gang was affectionately nicknaming “the air kingdom” seemed in order.
The first few days go by fine--Nuru drags Hugo out to the marketplace, talking shop about swords and armory to her heart's content, while Varian and Yong scour the countryside and set off fireworks in the clear skies. It’s exactly what their group needs to get back on track--a little rest and a lot of free time to relax and get to know one another better.
Then Hugo shows up for breakfast one morning and all of Varian's optimism flies out the window.
"Whoa, are you sick?” Yong says, popping his head out of the pantry. “You look terrible.”
Hugo sends him an irritated glance. “No,” he says and then immediately sneezes. “I’m not sick,” he says, peevishly when they all continue staring at him in silence. His voice sounds like he’s been gargling rocks.
Nuru places a hand on his flushed forehead that he immediately swats off. “You’re burning up,” she says with a frown. “Did you leave your window open last night?”
“More likely that he got it from town,” Varian mutters. He seems to remember a kindly merchant lamenting about his daughter coming down with a spring cold. Dammit Hugo .
“I’m going to heat up some soup,” Yong says decisively, already making a bee-line for the cupboards.
“I don’t need soup.” Hugo literally cannot sound any more like a sulky pre-teen right now. “What I need is for you all to stop ganging up on me.”
“What you need is a doctor,” Nuru mutters.
Hugo turns his scowl on her.
“How about this,” Varian says, once again playing diplomat between his two best friends, “Hugo eats the soup, and Nuru doesn’t make him see a doctor.
Hugo and Nuru continue to eye each other for a moment before Hugo mutters out an annoyed “ fine .”
Varian has a feeling that today is going to be an exercise in not dumping his best friends.
About three hours into the “Hugo is pretending that he’s not sick” fiasco, Nuru has decided she’s had enough.
“I’m taking Yong to town,” she says, wrapping a scarf around the younger boy. “If the idiot won’t see a doctor, than I’m at least going to get him some medicine.”
Varian, who was the person who had to deal with Hugo throwing up in the bathroom half the afternoon, privately agrees. “Is there anything I should do?” he asks, not exactly sure what to do with sick people. His dad never got sick and Rapunzel had about a million physicians taking care of her whenever she contracted some illness or another.
“Try and keep him in bed. I also left some tea leaves in the kitchen, if he feels up to drinking anything.” Nuru adds, halfway out the door. “I know you want to kill him most of the time, but it would be most inconvenient to hide his body.”
Varian rolls his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he says, dryly.
He doesn’t actually plan to antagonize Hugo--let alone kill him . Despite the fact that the blond still manages to annoy him on a daily basis, he’s also kinda friends with the guy now. They’ve fallen into an easy companionship with mutual banter and annoyed antics that usually have their friends up in arms, but it works for them.
Besides, the guy just looked far too pathetic, dry heaving in the sink this morning, to give him a hard time.
A few minutes after Nuru and Yong leave, Varian makes his way to the room Hugo is staying in. At first glance, the place appears empty--bed unmade, small sitting area absent of life--but after a quick scan of the large room, Varian finds him.
Hugo sits on the window seat. His legs are drawn up under him and his head rests against the wall. The breeze filtering through the open window brushes his hair back from his forehead and makes the open collar of his white, unbuttoned shirt, fluttering slightly.
Something about the sight of him--flushed, exhausted, unguarded--twists something in Varian’s stomach.
“Hey,” he says, voice cracking too loudly in the quiet.
Hugo doesn’t turn his head, but his shoulder inch up slightly. “Hey,” he says back, eyes glued to something outside the window.
Varians’ eyes narrow in on the gooseflesh raised on the skin of his neck. With a sigh, he snatches a blanket off the bed and goes to Hugo, draping it over his shoulders.
Hugo turns his head at that, blinking up at him owlishly through round glasses. “Oh,” he says, like he’s just noticing Varian’s here. Which is concerning. “Thanks.”
Varian shrugs a shoulder, throwing himself on the other side of the window seat. It’s a large enough space--or maybe Varian’s just short--for the two of them to sit without touching. Not that Varian’s thinking of touching him.
An uneasy silence--on Varian’s part, at least--falls over them as Hugo continues to stare blankly out the window. His usually brilliant green eyes are glazed over, enhancing the flush that’s spread from his face, down his to his neck.
He sniffs a couple of times, nose wrinkling.
“Nuru wants you to drink some tea, I think,” Varian says, tapping his fingers against his knee nervously. “I can go get some for you if you wa-”
“It’s fine.” Hugo’s voice carries no intonation. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Varian says, in a very measured voice. The last thing he wants to do is upset the guy right now.
Hugo’s eyes shut. His lips press together tightly, but not out of anger. He looks like he’s just barely holding it together, and Varian doesn’t understand why.
Or, maybe he does. Varian used to be very open and free with his emotions, but over the past few years--since everything in Corona with his dad, the amber, Cass --Varian has gotten used to putting up shields around his heart. Vulnerability was a very scary thing, especially with those you cared about.
Hugo didn’t seem to be the type of person who liked to show weakness.
A particularly chilling breeze brushes through the window. It’s enough that even Varian is shivering at it’s touch.
He reaches out slowly and gently pulls the blanket around Hugo tighter. Hugo’s eyes open at that, watching Varian with an unreadable emotion.
“I think you should lie down,” Varian says.
Hugo shakes his head. “Can’t.”
“Hugo-”
“The bed’s too soft,” Hugo exhales, sounding embarrassed.
Something in Varian’s stomach twists painfully. The year after prison hadn’t been easy, but most of it was just getting used to being able to walk around without having the entirety of Corona’s military breathing down your neck. The other half was getting used to how soft his threadbare bed in Olde Corona felt.
Varian gets it. He doesn’t know Hugo’s story yet, but he gets it.
“Lie down here then,” he coaxes, one hand coming up to cup his neck. It’s warm-- too warm . The worry simmering in Varian’s gut flares.
“What, on you?” Hugo snorts, sounding--if for a moment--a bit like himself.
Varian feels his own face flush about as badly as Hugo’s face is right now. “Would it make you feel more comfortable?” he asks, voice pitching up high.
Hugo’s stares at him hazily, the fever most likely getting in the way of his higher processing powers. “Yeah,” he says, looking not quite all there. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
And then he flops face first into Varian’s lap.
Varian lets out a surprised laugh, one hand going to his hair. “Okay then,” he says, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.
“ Mmphf. ”
Varian snorts, coaxing Hugo into rolling over so that he can at least breathe. “Why do I put up with you?” he mutters, more amused than exasperated for once.
Hugo blinks a couple of times at him. “It’s weird,” he says at last. “ You’re weird. I’ve never had someone who’s wanted to put up with me before.”
Varian’s hopes Hugo can’t tell his heart just shattered into about a million pieces. “Well, you do now,” he says, easing Hugo’s glasses off his face and delicately placing them on the nearby end table. “You have three people, in fact, who are willing to put up with your dumb ass.”
The blond squints up at him. “But you were first. That’s-” he gestures gracelessly with one hand, “-that’s important .”
Varian smooths his hair back from his forehead, mentally taking note of the amount of heat coming off his flushed skin. “Yeah?”
“Mmm.” Hugo’s eyes close. “You keep doing that. Surprising me.”
“Well someone has to knock your ego down a few notches.”
A ghost of a grin. His eyes open again, almost as if he’s worried Varian has left in the few seconds he stopped looking.
“Hugo, go to sleep,” Varian chides. He runs his fingers through Hugo’s hair again, hoping it will draw him into sleep. “I can continue to surprise you tomorrow.”
“You’re surprising me now,” Hugo mumbles, but he’s becoming more and more pliant with each pet of Varian’s fingers through his hair. “Don’t go anywhere, ‘kay?”
Varian swallows. “I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promises. “Now go to sleep.”
Hugo’s eyes finally drop shut, breath evening out. Varian leans back against the wall, one hand in the blond’s hair. The weight of the other boy is both grounding and sends strange flutterings to Varian’s stomach that he doesn’t understand.
Hugo lets out a small snore in his sleep. It’s adorable. Hugo ’s adorable, Varian realizes, much to his horror.
Another breezes brushes in through the window, setting the white, transparent curtains afloat in the air. Hugo shivers slightly, curling up closer around Varian. His face is pressed somewhere between his thigh and stomach, one arm wrapped loosely around his torso. Varian runs his fingers through Hugo’s soft hair again and comes to two realizations simultaneously.
Varian has feelings for Hugo. Positive feelings. Fluffy, mushy, fluttering feelings that reside somewhere between his aching heart and the butterflies in his stomach and Varian wants to cry or throw up or maybe kiss the dumb blond until those feelings settle themselves.
Hugo might--a very, very tentative might, because Varian isn’t great at reading other people at the best of times--just might have feelings for Varian. Maybe.
That’s important, he had said, eyes glazed, pupils dilated, lips parted. You keep doing that. Surprising me.
Varian shuts his eyes. Yeah, he’s totally and utterly fucked.