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“God, why do I have to be here?” Ronaldo grumbles, adjusting the collar of his crimson red blouse.
A lavish building stands before them, neatly trimmed hedges glistening from raindrops reflecting the warm glow emanating from inside, almost bright enough to rival the moon beginning to rise in the east. Despite its comforting glimmer, he feels like spinning on his heel and waving over a taxi.
This is gonna be a long night.
Draluc smooths out his white waistcoat, already walking inside. He gives John a couple head scratches as he takes in the venue. Instead of his usual cape, he had chosen to don a long black coat that sways in the wind just around his knees. “Relax, Ronaldo-kun. We’ll stay for the minimum amount of time and then leave. It’s merely a formal event.”
Ronaldo sighs, catching up with him. The collar is way too itchy for his liking, and he misses the comfort of his usual coat. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
Walking through the grandiose double doors, the sound of classical music drifts into his ears, along with the pleasant chatter of people around. Many hold wine glasses, hands intertwined with their significant others. There are too many faces, both human and otherwise, for Ronaldo to name - it makes sense, considering the nature of the event.
Well, what he presumes to be the nature of the event. Some formal celebration of general peace for the last few months or something. Local area organised. In reality, the two of them had merely skimmed the dress code and complained about the necessity to be there.
The speeches always felt empty, probably compiled by some government official who wrote for the sake of writing. Their impact was debatable, however attending them still remained compulsory for the more well-known figures and whatever rich person wanted to attend. God knows why they would.
Draluc gazes around the hall, noting the fur coats, cocktail dresses and expensive suits that fill it. His eyes latch onto one lady, who has a small white dog sticking its head out of her purse.
Softly hugging John closer to his chest, Draluc sniffs in slight disapproval. “Lord, everyone here is so…”
“Don’t say it, some dude’s looking at us weirdly.” Ronaldo mutters, leading them both to the side in order to avoid as many pleasant formalities as possible. “Come on.”
The speech passes with several nudges from Draluc in an effort to keep Ronaldo awake. It’s highly amusing, watching the gorilla’s head limply loll down every 2 minutes, though he doubts he would be any different if he wasn’t nocturnal. The faux-warm tone the speaker is putting through is enough to make him drowsy from boredom.
“Ronaldo-kun. Ronaldo-kun.” Draluc hisses, kicking him with his shin. The lady in front of them shoots them an unimpressed look before returning her attention to the stage, and Draluc resists the un-gentlemanly urge to send one back.
“Huh- Oh. Sorry.” He wakes with a start, blinking blearily. It’s a miracle he hasn’t fallen over by now. Draluc would let him face-plant onto the wooden floor for the joy of it all, but getting kicked out would surely crush both of their reputations.
“Nununu.” John gently paws at his face, and a smile takes over Ronaldo’s features.
“Alright, alright. Sorry, John.”
Draluc sends him an entertained smirk, and the speaker finally bows gracefully with a few final, meaningless words, leaving the stage to the sound of polite applause.
The vampire contributes with over-enthusiastic claps and reverent nodding; Ronaldo quietly snorts before elbowing him in the side at the realization that he’s about to start cheering, much to John’s dismay. “Sand…”
Ronaldo’s eyes skip between the faces in the crowd. Despite the size of the hall, the center of the wooden dance floor is absolutely packed with people.
He calmly sips at his wine, glancing at his watch. If they stay for an hour, it’ll be socially acceptable to leave with polite thank you’s and fake regret.
John had chosen to sit contentedly on one of the couches to the side with a bundle of grapes, observing the two of them plus the crowds of people flitting around the hall. Several couples had already stopped by to give him doting head scratches and warm pets, which the armadillo accepted gratefully.
Draluc smirks beside him, swaying on the balls of his feet. “Oh, Ronaldo-kun, the night is going so slow. ” He complains, though not a single shred of annoyance shines through.
He sighs, putting his weight all on one leg. Chalking it up to just Draluc being Draluc, he ignores the suspicious tone to his words. “Yeah, I know. We can leave in about an hour. They’re bringing food out soon, I heard.”
Draluc hums in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t quite pay attention. The vampire’s gaze lingers in the middle of the venue before turning to Ronaldo with an innocent expression. Oh God, what now?
“You know, we can always pass the time by-”
Ronaldo catches on abnormally quickly, face falling. Oh. Hell no. “No. Absolutely not.” He cuts the thought off, but Draluc already has that bastardly smug smile on his face. “No fucking way, I’m staying over here, they have good wine. You can go dance by yourself if you’re bored.”
“Oh, come on~” Draluc teases, looking far too pleased with himself. Really, all he wants to see is the gorilla fail miserably. That, and his childhood plus experience with rhythm games has earned him a couple points in the general dancing ability sector.
Ronaldo attempts to shoot the proposition down with a glare, though the vampire remains unfazed. “We are not joining them.”
“But, Ronaldo-kun, I thought you were all about charm and building up a reputation-”
“Not like this, jackass.”
“Not even a simple one-two waltz? You must have at least some skill-”
“I’d rather stay here. Go do it yours- Hey! Draluc!”
Ronaldo’s words die on his tongue as the bastard’s hand settles into his, dragging him over towards the center with way more enthusiasm than he has any right having.
As Draluc practically skips over, he remains blissfully oblivious to the flicker of expressions that cross Ronaldo’s face, eyes locked on the hand gripping his. Despite it all, he doesn’t find himself pulling away. It’s infuriating, though conflicting feelings simmer beneath the surface of his anger.
Ronaldo swallows tightly. Good thing he’s already shoved them down. “You have no say in this~”
“I’m not doing this.”
“Yes you are.”
“I’m not-”
“Just follow my lead. Look down - one, two, three four.”
With an annoyed huff, Ronaldo half-heartedly steps back and forth. “Why are you making me do this?”
Honestly, it’s all just for the entertainment of it all, but Draluc omits that with a thoughtful expression. “Well, you do need some sort of practice. We have nothing else to do for an hour, so you might as well.”
Ronaldo scowls at him before silently relenting, looking down at his feet to try and match Draluc’s pace. Now he regrets banning Draluc from bringing the QSQ. “No, Ronaldo-kun, look-”
Too focused to process his actions, Draluc puts a hand on his arm, using the other to point at Ronaldo’s questionable and mediocre footwork. The hunter hesitates minutely, and Draluc has to quickly break to avoid crashing into him. “Step towards me when I step back, and vice versa. Forward, side, then close the two- I said look down, Ronaldo-kun.”
The hunter startles with an odd expression on his face, eyes coming back into focus. “Oh- uh-” Several feelings paint his features before settling on mild annoyance. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, maybe if you’d go slower-”
“This is as slow as I can go! Look, I’ll step back first, then you step forward.”
“Okay. Fine.”
“One, tw- SAND!”
“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad-”
“The number of times you have killed me within the past 5 minutes just by tripping over your own feet says otherwise, Ronaldo-kun. This is practically putting me at health ri- SAND!- Oh, now look what you've done, I now require blood immediately.”
“You’re going too FAST.”
“Just step when I do, you dolt.”
There’s some vague grumbling before the two lapse into silence.
It lasts 5 seconds.
“SAND!”
Draluc’s initial plan has turned around and thwacked him in the face with a fly swatter. In several ways.
One, they’ve been trying to get some sort of rhythm down for ages and the only thing they’ve managed to do is rapidly bring down Draluc’s sanity - it’s about 5 steps in that Ronaldo trips again, successfully killing them both with all the grace of a drunk fruit fly trying to get out a window. Honestly, it’s kind of impressive. Draluc didn't even know you could trip over your feet like that.
Two, even though no one is paying attention to them, too wrapped up in their own dances, simply being at the event is making it harder to focus. He’s had plenty of exposure to classical music from his childhood, so he’s normally able to tune that out just fine. Maybe it’s the voices. Or the openness of it all. Whatever.
And…three…
…well…
Draluc stubbornly observes the floor, unable to meet Ronaldo’s eyes. The fabric of his shirt is thin and the skin underneath is warm. It crumples slightly under the weight of his hand on Ronaldo’s shoulder, keeping them both balanced and (not very) in sync. They’re standing only a few feet apart, and if he focuses enough he can hear Ronaldo’s breathing turn slower in concentration.
Damn it, he’s just trying to teach the stupid gorilla a basic-ass waltz. The amount of teasing he’s managed to fit in has surely been the highlight of his day, yet his mind remains…elsewhere. Why can’t he focus? What’s wrong with him?
His buzzing thoughts are cut off when Ronaldo trips over literally fucking nothing (because he can’t follow basic instructions, he said to just follow him like a thousand times-), reducing the vampire into a pile of sand.
“I said to-”
“Ugh, I know! I’ve got it this time, I think.”
Draluc takes his place in front of him again, and their eyes meet. Ronaldo’s immediately flit away, presumably to concentrate on his feet. The vampire’s expression is fixed with light amusement, clearly still taking joy in the whole disaster. His eyes glisten slightly with the glow of the chandeliers, hand laying on top of his shoulder as his coat sways in time with their movements. Maybe if they get the rhythm down, they could get a proper waltz going, hands interlocked on one side and the other o-
Fuck, what?
Ronaldo determinedly steers the thought away, too afraid annoyed to think about it for too long. He might go insane. What in the ever-loving fuck was that? This is Draluc he’s thinking about, for fuck’s sake, what the hell?
“Okay. Front. Side. Close. Back…” He hesitates, foot hovering unsurely in the air before settling on his right side. Draluc is quick to mirror him. “...side, then…close.” They’re in the same stance as the beginning. That’s- that’s right, isn’t it?
“My my, Ronaldo-kun, well done!” Draluc grins, and for a split second Ronaldo’s gaze lingers on the blinding smile instead of the smug undertones of his voice. Goddammit, why - Fuck, maybe he ate something bad- no, Draluc had cooked them dinner before they set off. It might be the classical music getting to him. He was never too fond of it in the first place. “I wasn’t sure we would get there, if I’m honest-”
“Oh, shut up, idiot vampire. I can waltz.” He glares, adamantly repeating the steps to prove his competence. Draluc matches his pace as smoothly as ever, guiding them from side to side.
“Clearly.” Draluc deadpans.
It’s slow, but they soon settle into a steady dance. Ronaldo finds his brain relaxing contentedly against his will, following Draluc as he starts to improvise a little bit. He glides around with practised ease, adding charm and little gimmicks to their steps to match the beat of the music. His tongue peaks out slightly as he carefully spins them in a 180. It’s almost endearing-
Fuck. No it’s not. It’s annoying, is what it is. This is stupid . They're just two dudes waltzing. Because there's nothing else to do.
Draluc bops his head minutely as a new piece starts to play, slightly quicker in tempo, and Ronaldo’s frustrated thoughts flounder. He’s quick to grab Ronaldo’s other hand, and he allows himself to be dazedly led, feet automatically following Draluc’s. They dance from side to side, going in and out and gliding around the pristine hardwood floors, gracefully moving to the beat.
He makes it look so easy.
“I’m sorry, Ronaldo-kun, am I going too fast for you?” Draluc teases airily, stepping outwards before meeting him back in the middle. It looks automatic. Thoughtless. But not in the cold, robotic way: it looks as if he’s been doing it for years, not even having to pay his movements any mind. The vampire carries himself with a natural elegance as he dances alongside the music, adding little spins and shuffles as he hums along with the piccolo overtaking the melody.
Ronaldo scowls. What? He can appreciate skill when he sees it, even if it’s coming from a professional shithead. “I’ll kill you.”
“ Uh-huh , sure you- well, actually, you’ve done that around 20 times within the last 5 minutes.“ Draluc concedes with a tilt of the head. “It is starting to become impressive, even if your lack of coordination is laughable.”
In retaliation, Ronaldo suddenly brings him close (the small intake of breath he hears is merely surprise, is all) before letting go of Draluc’s right hand, forcefully twirling him around and out surprisingly gracefully, coat flowing around him. The vampire’s speech cuts off with a startled squeak, immediately disintegrating into a pile of fluttering thoughts before they can meet back in the middle.
It takes a few seconds for Draluc to regenerate, and for once his steps appear to stumble. He unsurely moves forward, feet shifting without a slither of the confident manner they had previously held.
Ronaldo swears there’s a light pink dusting his cheeks, though that’s probably the lighting - it must be, considering he feels a similar warmth on his own face. The chandeliers are bright as shit, so he wouldn’t be surprised.
“A little warning would have been nice, as…uncharacteristically graceful as that was.” Draluc eventually says with faux-annoyance, hastily bringing them back into the waltz to distract himself from the heart starting to skip in his chest.
“Did I throw you off your rhythm, oh Lord Dralc?” Ronaldo taunts lightly, and his snow white, fluffy hair shines with soft yellows at the edges as he steps back into the candle light. It compliments the wine red of his blouse rather nicely, matching the red tie Draluc wears and the painted nails he takes pride in.
Even the hunter’s trousers match his coat, he realises slowly. The thought stalls the colour from leaving his cheeks.
Draluc tears his gaze away, stepping to the side as an excuse to collect himself. This is getting ridiculous. “Oh, shut up. I said ‘left foot forward’ and you proceeded to kick me with your right.”
“You were going too fast! I got confused, alright?”
“We were standing still , dumbass.”
“Hm?” Draluc looks up, slowing down his tempo slightly as the music changes, shifting from classical to a much more energetic swing.
“Finally." Ronaldo grumbles, quietly appreciating the change of pace.
Draluc blinks for a few moments before speaking, voice quieter than before. He can only just hear it over the noise of the event. "Oh. A different dance would be more fitting for this. Of course, we could continue waltzing-"
“Well, show me, then.”
Their eyes meet again, and Draluc’s eyebrow creases slightly. “Sorry?”
Ronaldo is careful to keep his gaze neutral as his heart starts to pick up. “Show me. I'll follow your steps.”
The vampire’s gaze lingers on him unreadably for a few seconds before he bites his lip. A much different, much warmer smile rapidly overtakes his features, and he looks down to hide it as he adjusts their positioning.
Gently, he leads them into a much faster, upbeat rhythm full of tapping and twirling, clearly showing Ronaldo where to step and using his hands to guide them around the small space they’ve managed to carve out for themselves.
As the pair gain confidence they spin each other in places, rising and falling to the beat, occasionally breaking apart to do a few steps on their own. A minute smile creeps onto Ronaldo’s face without him even noticing. It’s…nice. Of course, this is merely for Draluc to show him how to waltz, after all. It’s good practice. Is all.
“How do you improvise so easily?” Ronaldo eventually asks, mirroring Draluc.
“Hm? Oh, well, ballroom dancing was incredibly popular during my childhood, and so I was taught from a young age. The castle made an excellent venue.” He replies, spinning Ronaldo out before bringing him back in, oblivious to how his eyes glaze over for a few moments.
He clears his throat. “Oh. That makes sense.” Is all he can say after a few moments of thought. Why is he so distracted? This is just practice. It doesn’t mean anything. Fuck, why does he feel so nervous all of a sudden? Wait no, he’s not nervous. There’s no reason for him to be.
Draluc continues to contentedly hum along. “Were you not taught any sort of dance?”
“Ah, no. It’s usually something you only learn later, for us, really. Well, it depends. Unless you grew up rich or your parents taught you or you took classes or whatever.”
“Well, it’s about time someone shows you.” Draluc says lowly, the ever-present traces of amusement shining through his warm tone.
Whatever reply Ronaldo's coming up with completely crumbles as Draluc effortlessly twirls him around and suspends him in a low dip, confidently supporting him with an intertwined hand held just beside Draluc's head and another around his waist.
A few silent beats pass before his relaxed smirk slowly dissipates and the vampire's braincells log back on.
Oh.
Realisation slamming into him, Draluc’s face flushes in a rush of heat. His heart starts to skip, and he can’t fully convince himself anymore that the crimson red rapidly painting Ronaldo’s own features is just a trick of the lighting. He lets out a small, strained sound, and for a long moment all either of them can hear is the sound of each other’s stilted breathing.
Oh.
FUCK.
Draluc’s mind yells to back out, but it feels as if every part of him is rooted in place. His brain is frozen on an error screen, tunnel vision clouding his thoughts.
And - god oh fuck holy shit - they’re suddenly so close, one arm wrapped around the other’s middle, Ronaldo’s breath rising up against his face. All they can do is stare at each other, equally shocked - Ronaldo gazes at him in dazed silence and, God, since when were his swirling blue eyes so deep and vivid-
Draluc pulls Ronaldo back out of the dip, flustered, looking down and mourning the lack of cape to cover his entire face with. The instinct to turn to a miserable, embarrassed pile of sand on the floor screams at him, but if he does it now then he’ll drop Ronaldo, who looks completely light-headed by this point (I mean, they have been spinning around a lot). Fuck, he feels light-headed.
He looks around to avoid the hunter's gaze as they awkwardly return to waltzing. Not one person's eyes are on them, and yet Draluc feels as if he's been put under a harsh spotlight. Oh fuck, why did he do that? He hadn't meant to dip him so low- oh god, his entire face is still burning. It was just a dip. It was literally just a dip. Normal dance move. Even used on Broadway. There was nothing behind it, no explanation for the myriad of feelings swirling in flustered panic in his chest. God, what is with him? He didn't even-
Fuck. This isn't normal, is it?
Draluc's internal reverie is broken as Ronaldo shakily clears his throat, cheeks still shining pink. "I'm gonna, uh- hold on, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."
All he can do is nod in acknowledgement as Ronaldo makes his way towards the other end of the hall, heart still hammering.
Subconsciously bouncing his leg, Draluc anxiously drums his nails against the side of his wine glass. He doesn't move to take a single sip despite the dryness of his throat.
It's been a couple minutes, and yet he still hasn't seen Ronaldo anywhere. Concerning as it is, he can't help but be thankful for the time to think. Well, kind of. Part of him really wants his brain to just shut the fuck up.
It all circles back to Ronaldo and that stupid, stupid dip. He could've just played it off with a simpering smile, and yet the dumb glimmer in the gorilla's eyes and his fluffy snow white hair and the fact that his pink face was inches below his own- god, even Ronaldo's own face was flushed, but that was probably embarrassment.
I mean, there's no way the hunter would reciprocate any sort of...unwanted feelings. They are both completely straight, like women, are literally a vampire and a vampire hunter and are neither of each other's typ- and for fuck's sake, that's what Draluc had initially said to himself as well-
Draluc lets out a frustrated growl, opting to grip his wine glass tighter instead of kicking over a table. He may be oblivious at times, but nothing about this is straight at fucking all . Finally gotten rid of that stupid bouncy feeling, he thought. He wonders if those blissful however many minutes of dance were worth it considering the absolute crisis he's suffering right now. He can't even be bothered to look at a clock right now, despite there being around 5 on the wall opposite him.
Something rolls against his feet, and he looks down. A smile instantly overtakes his features. “Ah, John! Are you-”
The armadillo bounds up onto the table, gesturing wildly and pointing towards the dance floor, then at Draluc’s chest. “NU!! Nunununu, nunu, NUNU NUUU-”
Draluc flushes, blinking with wide eyes. It takes him a couple moments to fully process the rant John has immediately decided to launch into. “W-what?? No, I’m not- it was just a dance, John, it didn’t mean-”
“NU NUNU NU.” He taps the vampire’s unnaturally beet red cheeks to emphasize his point. “NU.”
“I don’t- i-it’s not important, John! It’s ridiculous. Absurd. Why would I? The gorilla can't even operate an oven.”
“NU. Nununu.”
“Th-that's not true. It’s nothing.”
“Nu.”
“No I don't.”
“Nu. Nu nununu.”
“I don’t!! I just improvised-”
“Nununu, nunununununu.” John imitates a dip, dancing in place, pointing at Draluc and then anything he can find to prove his point. This is getting out of hand. They just won’t realise. Maybe if John claps his hands together enough, it’ll make a spark big enough to cause the last few brain cells in either of them to just collide. “Nu, nunu, NUNUN NU.”
“A-a dip isn’t inherently romantic! It's commonly used in many dances! I thought it would fit the beat of the music is all-”
"NU NUNU?? NU??" The armadillo bends right over, one hand ram-rod straight in the air. He looks accusingly at Draluc, and if he had eyebrows he'd probably raise one. "NU??"
Draluc splutters, voice rising in pitch in embarrassment. "I didn't MEAN to dip hiM THAT LOW, JOHN-"
“NUNUNU, NU NU NUU-”
“WHAT? I WAS NOT ABOUT TO- SAND!” Draluc perishes at the thought, mentally fanning away the cluster of unwanted imagery plaguing him. The pink on his cheeks still hasn’t faded by the time he regenerates, flustered.
“Nu. Nunun unu .” John facepalms, with the armadillo equivalent of a heavy sigh.
Yeah. He’s royally fucked.
Ronaldo fluffs his hair up in front of a pristinely clean mirror, hand shaking involuntary. He moves his bangs down in an attempt to conceal the red tones on his cheeks, though the white only brings it out more.
The hunter lets out a frustrated breath, smoothing out the creases in his shirt. Why is it so hard to just calm down? Why does he even feel like this? There’s no reason for him to be so worked up over something so little.
His mind keeps replaying the chain of events over and over, simultaneously vivid and blurry. Time had passed in a daze, blocking everyone else out of his vision. It was just to focus on his steps, he reasons. There can’t be another reason. He doesn’t feel anything. He won’t even fucking consider that possibility - there’s no way. The… dip …had just …
Ronaldo swallows, two hands covering his gradually heating face. The dip . It had just taken him by…surprise. That was all. I mean, one moment he was peacefully twirling along, and the next Draluc’s warm smile was inches away from his face, head spinning from the sudden change in level and the arm wrapped comfortingly around his waist and-
He forcefully rubs at his face. God, this is fucking stupid, what is with him? He doesn’t even- it’s not-
It was just surprise . It’s nothing else. He can’t… feel anything towards Draluc. Sure, he doesn’t have anything against the very principle of it - he’s not homophobic , for fuck’s sake -, but it’s literally Draluc . Guant vampire, professional shithead Draluc.
The bastard who tosses leeks into his room and locks the door, the bastard who pulls 5 all-nighters to finish one game and ends up spanning the entire couch in his sleep, the bastard who greets him in the morning with hot breakfast and a smile that aims to cause harmless chaos, the bastard who peeks his tongue out in concentration and hums while he cooks, the bastard who spins him round and round with a pleased smile and a tapping rhythm in his shoes, gently gliding him along wooden floors to the sounds of acoustics and violins.
The bastard who has him gripping the edge of the sink, betrayed by his fluttering heartbeat despite the incessant denial he’s trying to get himself to believe. Because it’s nothing.
Ronaldo hangs his head. There’s no way to run from his thoughts anymore. So much that he doesn’t know what to do with. And it’s not like Draluc will bear the same feelings (god, he has feelings) - the bastard takes joy in riling him up (as does he, really, but that’s different), and the disgust he frequently expresses says that there’s nothing else to anything. It’s nothing.
He takes one final look in the mirror before straightening up and making his way to the door, keeping himself as neutral as possible. It’s not even true. There’s nothing there. There can’t be.
When he steps back into the hall, he sees John pointing at Draluc, thumping a paw at his chest as the vampire tries to defend himself. After a last few choice words, the armadillo rolls away, leaving a stunned Draluc in his wake, who looks as if he’s just been scolded by an angry mother.
Huh.
Coming closer, Ronaldo can clearly see the faint pink colouring Draluc’s cheeks. Honestly, he didn’t even think the moron could blush before this. “What happened?”
“Nothing. John came over to ask me a question.” Draluc says, a weird inflection to his tone. He zones out minutely before his gaze flicks back to Ronaldo, an odd emotion on his face. It’s almost nervous , for god knows what reason - it’s rare for Draluc to ever show any traces of genuine anxiety on his face, the kind that edges more on panic rather than running out of time in a video game. He can’t figure out what it means for the life of him.
Whatever, then. “Alright.” He says, uncharacteristically quiet. It’s hard to maintain eye contact.
The two lapse into deep thought for a long while, observing other guests, until Ronaldo breaks the silence. “What time is it, anyway?”
He looks around for a clock, and finds 6 to choose from. Ronaldo’s eyes scan the hands, before proceeding to choke on thin air. “It’s been 3 hours? Already?” How long had they …
Draluc looks up in surprise. The speech had only been 10 minutes long at most (although it dragged on for what seemed like an eternity). Surely they hadn’t been waltzing for that long. There’s no way.
Ronaldo clears his throat awkwardly after a moment of silence. “Right. Well, that’s the minimum done. Uhh…should we…?”
“Mm? Oh, yes, yes. Definitely. I don’t think I can stand to be here any longer.” Draluc agrees with the silent implication, getting up with a sweep of his coat. He smooths down his waistcoat, and Ronaldo tears his gaze away just before the vampire has the chance to notice.
It’s nothing.
The blissful quiet of the streets is a pleasant break from the rush of music and chatter.
It nears midnight, the moon bright in the sky and casting shadows to pattern the pavement the pair walk on. There’s little sound save for the odd couple footsteps and light breeze, ruffling his shirt and drifting leaves to circle above their heads. Should have brought some sort of coat.
Neither had uttered a single word the whole way home, starved of the usual banter that flowed between them. Ronaldo practically brims with nervous energy, and Draluc seems absolutely resolute to never meet his gaze. John remains on Draluc’s head, looking done with it all, glancing between the two in hopeful anticipation.
A couple minutes later, Ronaldo decides that he can’t take it anymore.
“....so…about the…uh..” He starts before trailing off immediately. No, that was so stupid. Just ignore it. Repress it and move on. There’s nothing to say, for fuck’s sake.
It seems that the vampire has other plans.
“The waltzing?” Draluc offers, keeping his own nerves from his voice (semi-successfully).
“Yeah. I…ugh…god…”
Ronaldo swallows. He should just back out now before it’s too late. Just say nevermind.
…
Just say ‘nevermind’-
“I just wanted to…thank you for that.” Fuck, why? “It was good to pass the time.” Ronaldo admits, ommitting all the other words he’s burning to say, knowing that they’d be met with cold glances and regret. Which is fine - he can move on.
Draluc startles, clearly taken off guard. That was not what he was expecting. His cheeks burn (goddammit, again? His face is a permanent heater at this point), and Draluc thanks the darkness for existing. “Oh. Well, I can’t leave you completely inexperienced. Otherwise, what will happen to the lovely maiden you will meet in the future when you inevitably trip her over?”
“Ha ha.” Ronaldo deadpans bluntly. A maiden, yeah. Probably.
But what if…
No. Nevermind. “I’m not that bad.”
“You had the elegance of a beached whale.” Draluc simpers, lightly knocking him with his shoulder.
Ronaldo huffs, crossing his arms to glare at the vampire. “Well, excuse me, for not having 200 years worth of practice.”
Draluc pauses, and Ronaldo can practically picture the thoughtful expression that creases his eyebrows as he bites on his cheek. With those fangs, he doesn’t know how. “...I suppose that factors into it. Although, I must admit, you did match my pace surprisingly quickly.”
“Yeah, well…” Ronaldo’s words die on his tongue and the banter falls apart, realising what his brain wants to say next.
He had been paying attention to every detail. The way Draluc’s tuft of hair bounced along with his footsteps, guiding them both. The grins he offered when Ronaldo managed to match with him to perfectly dance along with a particularly lively part of the music. The feeling of his hand in his, gracefully suspending him below his mirthful eyes.
Those same eyes meet his, a slight smile still creasing them at the corners.
“...I guess I kind of wanted to.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath beside him. Ronaldo tries to catch the expression on his face, though Draluc determinedly looks elsewhere.
He too looks away, flushing. There’s nothing to mask the meaning behind those words anymore.
Their shoulders are brushing.
A few moments pass where Ronaldo dreads the worst, that he's completely fucked this up, until something tickles his hand. He looks down just in time to catch the hand Draluc snaps back to his side, wound in a tight fist.
Ronaldo’s shirt rustles as he turns slightly, trying one last time to sneak a look at the expression on the vampire’s face. He bites the inside of his cheek.
Draluc finally looks up when a warm hand wraps around his, slowly prying the fingers apart to interlock them with his own. It takes all his strength to not turn to a pile of sand, thoughts racing at the soft heat that thaws his gloveless hand. Although their eyes never dare to meet, he thinks his heart is thumping strongly enough for the hunter to hear anyway. John definitely hears it, judging by the near-silent yet overjoyed ‘nu!’ he breathes out.
The warmth that blooms in their chests and cheeks has nothing to do with the streetlamps illuminating the roads echoing with the steady rhythm of their footsteps.