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Loud music filled the room, boisterous and vibrant for dancing and enjoying the festivities. It was the last night of the little town festival, and Kremy regretted the open bar that was offered to mark the final night. Frost had no tolerance for alcohol and had luckily made the decision to enjoy simply one and abstain after that, Gricko was in his cups but was no more annoying than usual, and Torbek had chosen to forego partaking at all, which Kremy thought was a remarkably responsible and well-thought-out decision for the tragic bugbear. The only one that left was Gideon, who had apparently read, or the very least interpreted, the words “Open Bar” as “Drinking Challenge”. Kremy had lost count of how many drinks the Fire Genasi had consumed so far. He had been dancing wildly with some of the prettier towngirls, his chains whirling dangerously, much to the entertainment of those around him who had made a party game of dodging the ends as they danced.
Gideon stumbled over to Kremy and threw a heavy arm around the lizardfolk’s shoulders. Kremy grunted and stumbled from the force, righting himself quickly and smoothing out his suit from any potential misalignment from the force of his drunk friend's affection. “Kremy, my man! I love this town! But I ain’t seen you doin’ any dancin’!”
Kremy wrinkled his snout at the potency of Gideon’s breath but couldn’t help that the corners of his mouth twisted up into a small smile. ‘Nobody better light a match near him, that’s for sure,’ Kremy thought wryly. ‘It’s a miracle he hasn’t combusted his own damn self yet.’
“Why, no, Gid,” Kremy answered smoothly. “I think I just haven’t found a partner to my taste yet, ya know what I’m sayin’?”
“Well we gotta fix that then!” Gideon exclaimed.
Kremy protested as Gideon dragged him about by the shoulders, asking everyone if they wanted to dance with “the greatest friend in the whole wide world, fey or mortal”. Kremy continued to mumble apologies as each person politely declined, all of them smiling and giggling. Kremy threw out quite a few “I do apologize for this, he’s a bit enthusiastic” or “Excuse my drunk friend, he’s a bit of an idiot” to the poor people Gideon practically assaulted in demanding that somebody dance with Kremy.
“Well that’s a damn shame!” Gideon said, still leaning heavily on Kremy after harassing nearly everyone in the dance hall. He had even bothered Frost and Gricko, though both had graciously declined as Frost was too engaged in watching the patterns made within each dance (these folk dances typically have traditional significance to courting and social status, after all), and Gricko was entertaining Hootsie to keep her from attacking the banquet table. Torbek had volunteered but then it had been Kremy’s turn to graciously decline and apologize, explaining that he did not, in fact, really want to dance and that Gid was an idiot.
“Look, Gid, it’s really quite alright, I don’t need to dance,” Kremy replied.
The band struck up a new tune and Kremy groaned inwardly. It was one of Gideon’s favorites, which would only redouble his somewhat gallant efforts to make sure Kremy was involved in the party.
Gideon thumped Kremy hard enough on the back to make him stumble. “Come on, Kremy! Hell, I’ll dance with you! Can’t let you be left out to the best song!”
Kremy reluctantly allowed his ironic husband to drag him to the middle of the dance floor. He felt his cheeks burn as Frost, Gricko, Torbek, and Hootsie—really, the one time she couldn’t be engaged in her horrible fly-pad thing?—watched the two of them without looking away once at anything else that may have been happening. Frost’s expression was neutral but Kremy knew the Tabaxi well enough to know that he was thoroughly entertained by the sight of it all. Gricko was grinning broadly from ear to ear and loudly explaining to Hootsie about “when two people love each other”. Kremy made a mental note to make Gricko’s next meal vegan out of spite for that. Torbek looked like a happy child watching his parents dance in the kitchen at home, which Kremy would never admit out loud warmed his heart a bit for the poor tragic bastard.
“Wish I could sweep you off your feet, yeah knights in shining armor tell the truth!” Gideon sang loudly, swinging Kremy in time to the music. He was surprisingly well in tune and in time for someone so completely and utterly inebriated. “But I’m a beggar in the village and a liar with a life that shows the proof.”
Kremy felt himself smiling. He gave up and surrendered to the dance, moving in time with Gideon and feeling his cheeks flush for a different reason. Gideon clearly realized this, as his grin broadened and became just the slightest bit more feral.
Kremy jumped as he felt a chain wrap around his waist. “Now, Gid, that’s not necessarily appropriate right here and right now, alright? Let’s ease the chains off here a bit.”
‘If his damn smile gets any bigger he might as well be a gator like me,’ Kremy thought as Gideon’s smile grew even more. He smelled of campfire, cigars, and quite a few flavors of alcohol that Kremy was not opposed to and Kremy thought that the alcohol content of Gideon’s breath alone must be what was causing him to feel so intoxicated.
“I don’t like to drink, and a good man never told a lie,” Kremy found himself singing along, much to Gideon’s delight.
“But there’s horns upon my shadows and I’m guessing that my breath still smells ‘a-rye’,” Gideon belted out, his hair flaring and sparking around the horns on his head.
“So let me down slow,” they sang together, getting lost in the music. “Oh, honey, I know.”
Gideon twirled Kremy away from him, the chain unwinding as Kremy moved away and then winding back tight as Gideon pulled him back.
Yeah there’s nothing in this world can stay
If we’re lucky we’ll turn old and gray
The other dancers had cleared to give them space, many of them watching the odd couple and clapping and cheering. Frost had his elbows on the table with his chin resting on his paws, his tail flicking back and forth with utter glee as he finally smiled. Kremy shot him a look but was soon pulled back in by Gideon. Gideon was radiating warmth and light, like holding on to the sun as it followed its celestial path through the cold dark of the universe. His beard and hair were alight, flames licking up around him. The warmth seeped its way like hot chocolate on a winter morning into Kremy’s scales and bones.
Always knew that I’d die young anyway
And pity those behind who had to stay
Kremy really did enjoy dancing. He had been feeling a little left out, though he would never admit that to Gideon. Gideon was so easily the life of the party, while Kremy stood to stress about the next plan and the antics of his idiotic employees when they weren’t actually making themselves useful. He had been wanting to partake in the party, but he couldn’t afford for Frost to overpartake, or for Torbek to partake at all. Gideon he could manage, he had far longer dealing with his capers and buffoonery and far more experience navigating the fallout of those, but he most definitely did not need the ramifications of the others as well.
Gideon leaned in with the whiskey on his breath, reading Kremy’s mind. “I know ya, Kremy. I know you’re a good dancer, and ya like a good party. You just need the right partner.”
Because if this world is ever really shining gold
It’s fool’s gold anyway
Kremy felt himself smile despite himself. “You really are an idiot, Gideon Coal.”
Gideon pulled him in tight to prepare to spin him away again.
“Ya understand that this is all ironic, right, Gid?”