Work Text:
It was a boisterous night at a cantina other than Cid’s for a change, and you were all drunk, even the indomitable Tech. Red-faced, Wrecker had actually managed to goad him into a drinking competition, and he was shit-faced three sheets to the wind. That’s when you decided it was the best time to challenge Tech to a contest, because he always honored his agreements, even if made while under the influence. Well, almost all agreements. There were a couple that were highly inappropriate he absolutely refused to follow through on, with good reason. This one, however, would be followed through. You were sure of it.
“Heya Techie!” you shouted above the din. You had to repeat yourself and Tech finally turned your way with a drunken smile.
“Yes, Mesh’la? What can I do for you?” Eloquent as always despite being plastered.
“I challenge you to a dance-off.”
“A what?” He frowned. “I don’t know what that is.”
“A dance-off, you know,” Wrecker got up from his seat and gyrated wildly to the music. “See who’s the best at dancin’ and all that.”
“Oh. Right now? I’m afraid I must decline. I can barely stand as it is,” Tech confided, nodding emphatically. “Yes. Wrecker shall carry me back to the ship, won’t you vod?” he asked.
Wrecker nodded. “Yup.” He kept dancing, wiggling his hips away and twirling. He looked ridiculous but was having fun.
“I didn’t mean now, you lump,” you punched him in the arm. “I meant another time. When we’re all sober. Omega and the boys can be the judges. We’ll do it back at Cid’s.”
“Okay,” Tech readily agreed, and you snapped your recording device off. There, you’d gotten him on recording, and he couldn’t back out of it now.
--
“Oh dear,” was all Tech had to say when you played it back for him the next day, grinning. “This is why I never get drunk. Stuff like this always happens to me and now I’m stuck. I know nothing about dancing. As you would put it, I have two left feet.”
“There’s nothing to it, Tech. You just move around how you feel like moving. You don’t need lessons or anything, just come up with your own rhythm. I’ll even let you pick the music if you like. Or we can pick two songs each.”
“I like the latter choice better. At least I know I can keep up with whatever I shall pick. Oh, dear me, dear me this is going to be quite the task,” he fretted. Then he asked, tilting his head to the side, “What is the wager, dear?”
“Oh, no wager. Just the title of who is the better dancer,” you smiled.
“I guarantee you shall win, mesh’la,” he said, shaking his head. “Although I am quite competitive, I do not see my success ratio as very high in this particular scenario.”
“We shall see, we shall see,” was all you said, rubbing your hands together. The truth was, you had a crush on Tech and had been trying to get him to dance with you for a long time. You figured this was as close as you were going to get. Then a brilliant idea came to you.
“Tech, what if we each put up some type of wager, like a surprise?”
“I don’t know if I care for that type of wager. It opens up the future to similar scenarios and I like to know what I’m in for before I agree to it.”
“Okay. Understood. Well, um, what would you wager?”
“If I win, you help me with design schematics for the additional modifications to the Marauder, and with installing them.”
“That’s a huge project!”
“And hence why I would enjoy your expertise. You have a witty mind and think outside the box in situations such as these.”
“You know I’d help you anyway, though,” you told him, hating for him to waste his wager on something you’d be happy to help with even though it was a big undertaking. Tech was nothing if not resourceful and ambitious.
“Hm. Well, since you’re offering, I accept. Then you shall buy me dinner if I win.”
“You’re on. And if I win, you take me out for a night of slow dancing.” There, it was out. You tried really hard not to blush and failed, looking away, sure he would reject your proposal.
“I accept,” Tech replied after several long moments of contemplation. “Slow dancing only. Nothing fast, and no drunken shenanigans.”
“It’s a deal,” you said immediately and shook with him on it, holding onto his hand longer than was strictly necessary.
You knew exactly which two songs you were going to pick for the dance-off and were excited to see what Tech would pick. As an additional move to make it more interesting, Omega had to approve of the songs you were to use. You had no problem getting her to approve your choices, as you had similar taste in music, to begin with.
Tech, however, had a tougher time getting her to comply with his wishes.
“No no no, that one’s all wrong,” she said, frowning, “It needs to be faster.”
“I don’t know many songs I enjoy that are faster. My feet just don’t “do” faster,” he emphasized.
“I’ll teach you some moves,” she offered, and he sighed in resignation.
“I suppose I shall have to take you up on your offer if I am to have any chance of succeeding. I really do have my eye on a lovely dinner,” he said, nodding a little bit.
“I’ll help ya too!” Wrecker chimed in as he came around the corner. “I told ya, dancin’s easy you just gotta feel the grooooooove!” he enthused, moving his hips as he did at the club, gyrating lewdly then remembering Omega was there. “Oops, sorry kid.”
“It’s okay. I’ve seen it all before.”
“You have?” Tech asked dubiously and she nodded. “Yep. The regs used to dance back on the base when they thought no one was looking and they did that thing with their hips all the time.”
“Your poor innocent eyes,” Tech exclaimed softly, shaking his head. “I never would have thought the regs had it in them.”
“Neither would I!” Wrecker agreed, smacking Tech heartily on the back, who then lurched forward and gave Wrecker a rude side-eyed glance.
“Alright, let’s practice!” Wrecker said loudly and had Omega put on some music they both started dancing wildly too.
Tech groaned. “This is going to be so embarrassing.”
--
In all fairness, Tech requested some time to comply with the bet. He said he needed to learn, and that training would help him keep his footing on missions and be more nimble on the battlefield. Hunter then decided it would do all of them some good to learn advanced kickboxing techniques so there your great idea went, right down the tubes into the pits of workouts on top of workouts.
Still, you did all seem to be in top physical form and Tech claimed to never feel stronger or have more energy and did end up thanking you for the suggestion so everyone could improve their performance.
The day of the dance-off finally began. Even Cid showed up and Tech was dismayed at how large the crowd grew. You felt a little smug, knowing that Wrecker and Omega had set up a cover charge and secretly advertised the event. With how packed the cantina was, you thought maybe Cid would be grateful for all the business that you brought in, given she was making everyone order a drink or get out, no cover charge refunds.
Out of sympathy, you decided to go first. The first song up was one of yours, a fast beat and synth guitar that was fairly easy to dance to, heavy with base. You tapped your foot in time for a moment to get your rhythm and began dancing, throwing yourself this way and that, twisting over and under yourself in a series of break-dance-like moves that had the crowd hooting and hollering.
“I didn’t know she could do that,” Tech muttered to Hunter, who was standing next to him for moral support.
“Neither did I, but she sure can bend in some interesting ways, can’t she?” he chuckled and Tech blushed beet red, having had the same thought but not being so uncouth as to voice it as Hunter had.
When the song was half over you gestured to Tech and he froze for a moment, and at your and Omega’s urging, jumped into the center, hyper-focusing on each of his planned moves. Such a contest made it difficult to plan for, not knowing what some of the music was going to be ahead of time, but he’d counted on your liking of fast music so had planned accordingly.
He didn’t breakdance but was pretty footloose the way he went about dancing, a bit on the wild side, but it had an elegance and grace to it that had the crowd confused. A bit of a robotic-like sound came on and Tech began to pop and move like a robot and the crowd went absolutely ape-shit for that, catcalling and cheering and whistling him on.
The song came to an end and your second one immediately popped up, you taking over where Tech had left off, wowing the crowd (you hoped) with more of your breakdance moves and some new steps you’d taught yourself and kept secret. You caught Hunter bending his head every which way a few times and he just shot you a sheepish grin, and you knew he was checking out your ass. Flirt.
Tech had a different arsenal as he moved and grooved like an inchworm across the floor, once more sending people into conniptions when he also managed to stand up from a lying down position. The man had it down. And he claimed he couldn’t dance!
You had a five-minute break in between sets when the first two songs were over and your chest and Tech’s were both heaving already, sweat pouring off your faces and down your suits. Both of you had gone for comfortable rather than flashy and it was paying off.
The second set of songs began, and these were Tech’s. Oh, big surprise, they were slower. How the kriff were you supposed to dance to this osik? Tech surprised you with a fluidity and grace you didn’t know he possessed and came out smelling like roses. When it came to your turn you had no fucking clue what to do with his music and the look of your dancing came out choppy and sloppy, for which you got boo’ed.
Tech’s second song was faster, thank kriff, but still not as fast as you preferred it. You decided to go with some of the moves you’d tried before and just perform them slower. It made it difficult to get the timing right and you knew you’d blown it when the clapping was lackluster, especially after Tech blew everyone away once more.
Then the competition was over, and Cid was taking final bets on the winner while Omega was casting kriffing votes. People were handing her pieces of paper and Hunter had to step in and count them. In the end, Tech won by a dank farrik landslide, and you had to eat your words.
“Good job, Tech. A well-deserved dinner it is, then.”
“It will be an expensive restaurant, as well, since you’ve deemed it appropriate to make this a public spectacle, of which I was not aware.”
“Sorry about that. I figured Cid would be more amenable to our little wager if she could get a cut.”
“I believe she’s got more than her cut. And this is a little too much of a crowd for my brothers and me to stay in for long, so we should all head out.”
“Aw, do we have to?” Omega cut in and Cid was right behind her.
“Look, Tiny. All these big folks around ya are gonna get sloshed. It’s past your bedtime anyway.”
“Cid’s right,” Wrecker boomed and picked her up, placing her on his shoulders. “We’re outta here.”
“Thanks for the boost in business, Goggles, this shit was hilarious, and I made a pretty credit tonight.”
“Who did you bet on, out of curiosity?” Tech asked her and she just smiled.
“A lady never tells.”
“Very well.”
You made a mental note not to make any more drunken bets with Tech in the future, for your own wallet and humility’s sake.