Chapter Text
“Have you eaten today?”
The question wasn’t one that Hugo had been prepared to answer, nose deep in his work when it was asked. His mind barely caught up to the fact that Varian was talking to him; it was more along the lines of conversation he would have with a guilty-faced Ruddiger as the animal begged for another crispy apple treat.
So, the words went without acknowledgement for several seconds before his boyfriend cleared his throat and asked again.
“Hugo? Are you listening to me?” Varian was using his ‘important conversation’ voice, which was enough to get Hugo to stop what he was doing for a moment and look over at him.
They were sharing their work station, Hugo doing minor repairs on a few parts for the water tankers while Varian poured over his revised Flynnolium formula. But his boyfriend’s wonderful, big blue eyes weren’t focused on his notebook at the moment. Instead, they were fixated on him.
“What was that, Stripes?” Hugo said with a grin as he reached across the table and flicked at Varian’s hair with his grease-covered fingers.
Much to his dismay, Varian didn’t pay attention to that.
“I asked if you’ve eaten today.”
Ah, so the question had been directed at him. Unfortunate. He had an answer to it, but he didn’t particularly want to say it. Varian always fretted over little things. Little, insignificant things. Especially after getting back from their journey.
On the road, Varian would sometimes ask if he’d eaten or slept; he had asked everyone in their little group. But most of the time he was preoccupied with not dying to the several trial monsters that came after them. And when he wasn’t focused on that, he was trying not to die by the several well-meaning but badly executed ‘plans’ that their youngest companion Yong came up with.
Those usually involved explosives.
Once back though, it had become harder and harder to avoid that question. And he did want to avoid it, because the answer was almost always a big fat N-O. It wasn’t his fault. He just wasn’t hungry most of the time.
Back in Ingvarr, he’d taught his body to run for as long as it could on as little as it could. He endured hunger pangs until the feeling of his stomach shrinking into itself was the only way he could be lulled to sleep at night. The sharp hurt reminded him he was alive. It reminded him that if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t stay that way.
It was just a different life style than those who lived in a palace, in a kingdom of sun and music and dancing.
It wasn’t a big deal though. He just wasn’t hungry. It was fine. Varian was slowly but surely coming to realize that it wasn’t something to waste his time caring about. He hadn’t asked him the question in a few days. Hopefully, soon he would stop asking it at all.
“Can’t remember,” he said with a shrug before returning to his work.
The huff that came out of Varian’s mouth could’ve rivaled the annoying puffs of steam that echoed around their lab from their many different contraptions. “You really should eat something, Hugo. I’m serious.”
“Are you offering yourself up, Stripes? In the lab no less, how scandalous.”
Flirting with Varian had exactly three results.
Result number one: Varian would get so flustered that whatever conversation they were previously having would be dropped as he stuttered and then stormed off, frustrated that Hugo was still able to work him up with nothing but his words.
Result number two: Varian would get so annoyed that whatever conversation they were previously having would be dropped in favour of him smacking Hugo in the arm and telling him to stop with the crass jokes.
Result number three: Varian would, for some reason still vastly unknown to Hugo, get so completely and utterly charmed that whatever conversation they were previously having would be dropped as he reached up around Hugo’s neck and brought him down for a kiss that would last the rest of the day as they ran away from work to curl up in some secret nook in the castle or the library. Giggling and laughing and linking their hands together until the moon came into view and they fell asleep in whatever space they’d been hiding away from work in. Fingers intertwined and lips red from kissing.
Number three was Hugo’s favourite result. It was also the least common and he highly doubted that his innuendo was about to earn him a day off, tucked away in a nook with his boyfriend playing with his hair.
He was right of course. But, instead of the other results that Hugo had come to know from Varian, his boyfriend threw him for a loop with a fourth one.
Varian bit his lip, worried furrow on his brow, and then stood up from his spot. Shit.
“I have to go check on something. I’ll be right back. And just…try to eat something for lunch, ok?”
Varian leaned over the table and kissed him on the forehead, and Hugo felt his blood run cold. Somewhere in that interaction he’d fucked up, but before he could correct whatever mistake he’d made, Varian was gone. Already up the stairs.
Hugo tried to spend the rest of his time working, but his mind was distracted. He was focusing too much on what was said. It wasn’t unusual for him to not be hungry. Varian was used to it by now. Was it his flirting, his joke? Had he gone too far? No, no he’d definitely said worse things to his boyfriend. That didn’t even crack top ten. Maybe he was upset about Hugo ignoring him the first time he’d asked? He’d ignored him before whenever he didn’t want to answer a question. Maybe he was just having an extra bad day.
Whatever it was, true to his word as always, Varian came back an hour or two later, chipper and whistling. Hugo tried not to show that he’d been worried about anything at all. That’s what he was best at.
Just push everything down and soon, it would all just go away.
Varian was, in Hugo’s professional opinion, the perfect person to cuddle. Most wouldn’t think it, he knew, by just looking at the short, scrawny man. But Hugo knew better.
Varian always wrapped his arms around him just right, the perfect amount of pressure without being suffocating. And he played with his hair in such a wonderful way, it often made Hugo fall asleep. His breathing was so rhythmic and comforting, Hugo found himself matching it easily. Slow and deep.
Plus, ever since they’d come back to Varian’s home kingdom, he was becoming slowly and steadily slightly less scrawny than he’d been when they were constantly running for their lives on the road.
On their journey, Varian had muscle, but it was the stringy kind. Strong, but not too impressive to look at. Which, of course, Hugo didn’t mind. He would be a hypocrite if he did.
Once they were back in Corona though, that muscle had turned from stringy to lean. Still not bulky, especially against a frame like Varian’s, but more noticeable, especially in his arms. Slender but defined. It drove Hugo slightly crazy. Ok, a lot crazy.
Currently one of those arms was wrapped around him as the other rested on his neck, hand playing with the back of his hair as he snuggled face down against Varian’s stomach. Which was another thing that had changed about his boyfriend that Hugo absolutely adored.
It wasn’t noticeable day to day, not with Varian’s vests and baggy shirts. But after getting back, Hugo had started to notice Varian putting on more weight than just muscle, just a little bit. In no small part due to his doting father and sister. Enough to be appreciated.
Laying down against his boyfriend, cheek pressed against his stomach, Hugo could appreciate the bit of squish that sat around Varian’s waist. The almost unnoticeable plush of weight against his sides before it gave away to muscle. It was nice; comfortable to sleep against and run his fingers across. A handsome addition to Varian’s frame.
It was nice to see how Varian had gone from being stringy and thin, skin and bone only evened out by a surprising amount of tight, stressed muscle, to where he was now. Strong and comfortable. Tough with machines, soft when the day wound down.
Exactly Hugo’s type. Which, was to say, Hugo’s type was just however Varian looked at the moment.
And at the moment, he was about to drift off into a wonderful night’s sleep.
The topic of his eating habits hadn’t come up for the rest of the day. At dinner, Varian hadn’t even tried to push food onto him. Instead, he and the rest of their little found family just let Hugo nibble and pick at a piece of bread until they were all finished with their meals. Which was good. It meant that his boyfriend was finally accepting the facts about Hugo, and that he wasn’t going to push the topic of something as inconsequential as when and how much he ate.
He hummed again, moving only so he could remove his glasses. But that was the moment that the little raccoon door Varian installed for Ruddiger opened up. The fat little guy came trotting through. Wearing a harness. With a tray attached to it.
“There you are, buddy! I was wondering what was taking you so long. Did Rapunzel give you that treat?” Varian asked, not at all surprised at what his beloved pet was wearing.
The raccoon gave a little nod before stopping at the side of the bed. Varian pushed Hugo off just a bit to lean over and pick up the tray, undoing Ruddiger’s harness in the process. The fat little animal shook out his fur, then went to sit by the fireplace they had going in their room.
“What’s that?” Hugo asked, though he felt like he already knew the answer by the smell. His stomach flipped.
Varian twisted him around as he pulled himself up again, pulling Hugo against him once more, back to chest. Equally as comfortable as his stomach, but a bit more of a sore spot for Varian, so he tended to settle for his previous position.
“Earlier today, I went to ask Rapunzel if she could set aside some food at dinner. Ruddiger went to pick it up. I thought eating might be easier for you if it was in the comfort of our room. Just…just a thought.”
Varian sat the tray down on Hugo’s lap before moving his hands up to his hips, then further up to his stomach and sides.
His hips that jutted out too sharply. His stomach that was nothing more than a sunken expanse of skin. His sides, where his ribs poked out just a bit too much to be healthy.
Fuck.
There wasn't a lot of food on the tray. Two slices of ham, a roll, some mashed potatoes, roasted veggies, and a cupcake on the side. A perfectly average dinner.
Hugo’s stomach rolled at the sight.
No, he could do this. If he ate this, maybe Varian would finally get off his back. Maybe they could stop worrying about what he did and didn’t eat. Maybe if he ate this and proved he was healthy, the little voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t would shut up.
“Aw, all for me? You shouldn’t have,” Hugo cooed.
Varian was too sweet for his own good.His boyfriend seemed happy enough with that response, kissing him on the top of his head and saying something before going to play with his hair. Varian was happy, this was making his little moonbeam happy. Just one, full meal. Easy.
He started with the veggies, assuming those would be the easiest. But one bite in and he knew that was a mistake. Too big of a bite. Too much to chew. He managed to swallow before taking a bite of the ham.
The slices were cut thicker than he thought. Thick and salty with a sweet crust to them. So much flavour. Too much. He managed two bites of it before he went to the roll.
The bread was his saving grace. It was hard to make bread overwhelming. It was simple, the kind of food he would eat back with Donella. Bread, some brothy soup, water. Then it was onto the next mission.
Why was this so difficult? It was just food. This is what he wanted, his entire life. Luxury and riches, a steady supply of food and a warm bed and an equally warm body to sleep next to. He had all of that at his beck and call. Anything he wanted, he could get with the snap of his fingers.
So why did it hurt? Why was it so hard to adjust? What was keeping him from eating food? It was the most basic human function beyond breathing. He had plenty of it. He had plenty!
Only he didn’t. Because it wasn’t his . It was Varian’s. It wasn’t his home, or his bed, or his lab, or his food, or his family, or his loving dad, or his doting sister, or his annoying brother, or his pet raccoon, or his kingdom, or his anything-
“Hugo? Hugo, baby, look at me.”
Hugo was shaken from his thoughts by Varian’s hand on his face, turning him to face upwards towards him (not an action that happened often given their heights). He hadn’t realized that he’d been chewing on the same bite for a while, the food nothing more than a liquidy paste of mostly spit in his mouth.
As he went to spit the bite out into a napkin, he noticed something else. Wet trails of silent tears streamed down his face. When did that happen?
“Hugo.” Varian’s voice was gentle but firm, begging him to speak up.
“I-I’m…I’m sorry I can’t, I don’t-I don’t know why I…”
The tears weren’t silent anymore, falling down his face in muffled sobs as he twisted his body around to bury his face into Varian’s neck. The tray of food spilled over the side of the bed with a clatter, but it couldn’t be heard over everything else.
“Shhh, shhh, you’re ok. You’re alright, it’s all ok.” Varian said, running a hand through his hair to calm him.
“ I can’t-what if it goes away…what if you…i-if I get used to it…and then I lose…you- ”
Why was he crying? Hugo hated crying, he never cried. The last time he’d cried was when he thought he was going to lose the love of his life forever in a magic library. And now he was crying over what? Ham? The fact that his boyfriend cared about him enough to get him dinner in bed?
Dinner that he’d absolutely ruined now by knocking it over. Fuck. He was crying over nothing, and Varian would see just how pathetic he was-
“I’m sorry.” Varian said.
The words interrupted the buzzing in Hugo’s mind enough for him to come out from the crook of the other’s neck and look up at him.
“W-what? Why are you-I just ruined-”
“I shouldn’t have ambushed you with food like this. I thought maybe you were just being stubborn about eating but I was also worried that there was, uh, something more. I should’ve talked to you about things before just deciding to do this. And I should’ve had more of a conversation with you about food other than just asking if you’d eaten.”
“Varian that’s not-I’m the one being an idiot about this, not you, and over something so stupid.”
Varian’s face was so kind and gentle, it made Hugo’s stomach flop like a dying fish. His boyfriend put a hand on his face and he melted into it, placing his own palm on top.
“I am always, always going to love you, Hugo. Even – -and don’t take this as something that will happen, this is just a worse case scenario- – if I stop being in love with you, I’m still going to love you. I’m not just going to throw you back to the streets.”
Hugo didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t believe it, even as Varian was speaking the words. He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know how bad Hugo could be and one day he would see that and he would take everything back.
But maybe, even if he didn’t believe those words, he could pretend to. For tonight.
“I love you too, Stripes.”
They stayed like that for a bit longer as the fire died out. Ruddiger came to take care of the scraps of food on the floor. In the morning, Hugo would wake up early to clean the dishes up. But for now, it was bedtime.
He took his glasses off and moved back down to rest his head on Varian’s stomach, fingers holding onto his sides like a pillow.
“At least one of us is eating right.” He joked, causing Varian to groan a little.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel like I can’t go five steps without dad or Rapunzel shoving a fruit or cupcake in my face. And, surprisingly, it’s not the person you would think it would be for each of those foods.”
Hugo chuckled at that, settling back in against his boyfriend’s body.
“Well, I’m just so sorry, it must be terrible to have a family who loves and dotes on you constantly. How ever will you survive? C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I won’t be able to fit into any of my clothes by next spring? I like my clothes, Hugo! Plus, dad’s cupcakes are…well, there’s a reason he’s a farmer and not a pâtissier .”
“Oh, cry me a river, rich boy, we’ll get you new clothes if the need arises. Your wardrobe could really do with an overhaul if you ask me, they’re doing you a favour. Besides, you’re being dramatic.” Hugo poked at his stomach, his finger sinking in only slightly before being met with the muscle underneath. “Because correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you were this toned before. Ya’ know, aside from the extra bit of padding.”
Varian blushed at that. Hugo was barely able to pick it out through the darkness, but the embers of the fire were still bright enough for him to see it.
“You really think so? W-well I mean…makes sense. The muscles and muscle power needed to maintain the machines around the kingdom are different than, um, than the ones needed to run away from danger during the trials. And we were all kind of surviving off of camp food and berries in-between towns. Not a lot of protein necessary for specific kinds of muscle accumulation. Now, we probably could have found a way to conserve things like eggs and fish and milk between supply runs. Probably with some kind of freezing chemical. A smaller scale ice box. But hindsight is-”
“You’re absolutely annoyingly cute when you ramble, did you know that? Just take the fucking compliment, Vare, baby.”
Hugo didn’t need to look up to know that his lovely little moonbeam was blushing even harder. Perfect, just how Hugo liked him. Flustered and adorable.
He lifted one of his legs to a right angle so he could hook it around Varian’s. His stomach still flipped and flopped and groaned around inside him, but maybe he didn’t need it to do that anymore to prove he was alive. Maybe being alive could start to mean that his body didn’t ache. Maybe the signs that he was surviving could be replaced with signs that he was thriving. A soft fire, a comfy bed, a full stomach.
And a warm body underneath him.