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chrysochroma · 3 months ago

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A Summer’s Ball

This is my work as a part of the @mcytblraufest exchange, as a collaboration with @gaytimeswith-scar :D

thank you to @redistooviolent for beta reading!!

Check out the art that this is based on!

Read on Ao3

Rating: General

Words: 14.7k

Fandom: Double Life

Warnings: Bad parenting, Self doubt, Mild self deprecation

Jimmy’s steps echoed through the empty halls of the manor he had lived in all his life, wringing his hands as he walked. His eyes flitted across the walls, focusing in on every crack and chip, each one only proving to worsen his state. A calm breeze floated past him as he neared the end of the hallway. It was nice outside—the perfect temperature, sunny with only a few clouds dotting the sky, accompanied by the occasional sound of birds chirping. Despite that, Jimmy’s face was locked in a frown.

Finally, he reached the end of the hallway. He let his hands fall to his sides, then exhaled slowly and shakily. He stood just before the floor dropped off, a jagged crack snaking from the edge towards him, almost touching the toes of his boots. His eyes were focused not on the gorgeous scenery in front of him, but its broken, charred frame instead.

The walls around him were completely gone, cracked, charred at the edges, same as the floor. It was like someone had taken a giant ax and chopped off the patio that used to exist here, which was an explanation he much preferred to the truth. In reality, he had been the one to cause the destruction. It started as just a small fire, just a small source of warmth in the cool night, but quickly grew out of hand much faster than he could prevent.

It was his fault, no doubt about it. It was his fault that their annual Summer Ball had to be canceled, his fault that his parents had to spend money on expensive repairs, his fault that he had lost one of the only places in this house that he truly loved. It was his fault, and his parents certainly had not forgotten. There was no way they would. And with the way they were acting, forgiveness might even be out of the question. In their defense, he doubted he would forgive himself, either. It was the only place where he could find some kind of peace and he went and burnt it to ashes, all over some stupid little fire. It wasn’t even cold outside that night. It was a dumb mistake and it cost him almost everything.

Jimmy spun on his heel and strode away from the window and its charred frame, straight into another person.

He jumped back, already starting to frantically apologize as the other person took a startled half-step away.

“I’m so sorry!” Jimmy blurted out, his hands once again clasped together nervously.

“Oh, it’s no problem, it was my fault too. Sorry about that,” the other person replied, a faint, crooked smile on his face.

He had what seemed to be a carpenter’s belt on, the pockets filled with various tools, and the collar of his shirt was slightly askew. His golden blond hair was tied into a ponytail with a deep red ribbon, and there was a smudge of dirt on one of his cheeks, although Jimmy could’ve sworn that they hadn’t even started construction yet. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight let in through the open hallway, a warm, almost reddish shade of brown that was absolutely captivating to Jimmy.

A full three seconds of silence passed before Jimmy rattled out a response. “No, uh, I’m sorry. I thought everyone had left already—you’re with the carpentry company, right?”

The other person nodded. “I am. Here to fix, uh, that.” He gestured towards the lack of walls behind Jimmy, who barely managed a small nod in response. “So you must be James Solidarity, right?”

Jimmy nodded again. “You can call me Jimmy,” he offered, the sentence quick and a little too quiet.

He gave a small nod. “Alright then, Jimmy, you can call me Tango.”

Jimmy blinked. “Tango.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Tango joked.

Jimmy gave a small chuckle along with him, trying to ignore his pounding heart and Tango’s playful smile.

Then Tango locked eyes with him, still smiling. “You seem pretty cool,” he said. “See you tomorrow, Jimmy.”

Jimmy froze. Forget pounding, his heart skipped what felt like a concerning amount of beats as he floundered for a response. “Uh, yeah, you too!” He sputtered.

Tango gave another small smile that sent Jimmy’s heart back to thumping hard against his ribcage, then turned and started walking back down the hallway. Jimmy stayed exactly where he was, feet seemingly frozen to the ground.

“Hey, Jimmy!” A voice called from behind him, one which he already knew, completely engraved into his memory from the only time they had talked to each other. Tango.

Jimmy spun around to face him, meeting the sparkling eyes of someone he had met only a few days prior. “Tango, hi!” He blurted out, more startled than he’d like to admit. “So, uh, how are ya?”

“I’m doing good, just been working on some other small projects,” Tango replied casually. “I made this sign for a bakery in town—they just needed their name carved and stuff—but they gave me some of these…” He trailed off, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt to retrieve a small package wrapped in brown paper, which he tore open to reveal a stack of cookies. He picked one up and held it out to Jimmy with a precious, giddy, almost child-like happiness on his face. “Want a cookie?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure!” He accepted the cookie from Tango and took a nibble out of it, internally screaming at himself for his awkwardness. At the same time, the cookie filled his mouth with a rich, sugary taste, which distracted him from his own embarrassment for just a second.

Tango took a bite out of his own cookie, absentmindedly nodding as he chewed.

“They’re good,” Jimmy said, taking another bite from his.

“Ye-ghh,” Tango agreed, mouth still full.

A snicker escaped Jimmy’s mouth before he could stop it, his face immediately going red. “I-”

He started to apologize, but was cut off by a snort from Tango, who was holding back laughter of his own. Jimmy’s words fizzled out, replaced by another chuckle at Tango’s reaction. The pair caught each other’s eyes, both smiling, which caused another rush of pink to cross Jimmy’s cheeks. He found himself relaxing, regardless of the usual stress this kind of situation would cause him. Instead, he was focusing on the crumbs stuck on Tango’s upper lip, the strand of golden blond hair sticking straight up from his head, the pencil that was close to falling from its place tucked behind his ear, the faint scar across his pointer finger, the stray eyelash on his cheek—

Then another voice called from deeper inside the house. “Tango!”

Tango’s head swiveled to the source of the sound before looking back to Jimmy. “Guess I’m needed,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, of course,” Jimmy replied, his face serious again. “Thanks for the cookie! It was really good.”

“‘Course, Jimmy,” Tango smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.” Then he shoved the rest of his cookie in his mouth before jogging off in the direction of the voice.

Jimmy managed to give him one final smile before their eye contact broke. “See ya in a bit, Tango.”

“Tango,” Jimmy started, walking up to him. “What are you working on today?”

“Just planning out some things before swinging a hammer into your wall,” he joked, giving a faint smirk at Jimmy’s chuckle. He set down his pencil and turned to him. “How are you doing today, Jimmy?”

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking,” he responded, almost automatically. “Although, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s that bakery? The one that gave you the cookies yesterday? You never told me.”

“Those cookies were pretty good, weren’t they?” Tango agreed. “You could get some for that ball you guys have,” he added, Jimmy almost cringing at the mention before quickly moving past it.

“Well, that’s not the only reason I want to go there.” The pair made eye contact, Tango responding with a simple eyebrow raise. Jimmy continued after the slightest second of hesitation, “I want to see the sign you made.”

“Oh,” Tango said, not expecting Jimmy’s response. A slight tinge of red spread across his cheeks. “Well it’s not much, just a piece of wood with some letters carved in it—”

Jimmy waved him off. “I’m sure it’s worth seeing. Besides, those cookies were good.”

Tango nodded. “They were. Well, uh, if you really want to go, it’s the Red Velvet Bakery, next to the General Store.”

Jimmy nodded, recalling the area that he was talking about. “Right, well, I’ll have to visit sometime. Perhaps you could come with, show me around,” he offered.

“Perhaps I shall,” Tango smiled. “You just let me know when.”

Jimmy nodded back to him, then left the room, letting Tango resume his work.

Sunlight covered the hardwood floor in rectangles cut out by window panes, the same pattern also draped across Jimmy as he sat, legs crossed, on a sheet-covered chair in the room Tango was last working in yesterday. The rest of the people he worked with were already there—various sounds of construction already filled this side of the house—but Tango hadn’t arrived yet. This was the room he would be in, he was sure of it. Even if it wasn’t, he had left one of his tools there yesterday, so he would surely return to pick it up, right?

“Jimmy? What are you doing here?”

Jimmy turned slightly to see Tango standing in the doorway, a confused look on his face. “Ah! Well, I’m just sitting here, I guess.” Jimmy cringed. He should’ve planned this out beforehand.

“Well, I guess you are.” Tango’s eyes caught the hammer of his that was sitting on the table next to Jimmy and he stepped forward to grab it. “So that’s where I left you,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I, uh, found it in here yesterday, just wanted to make sure you remembered.” Jimmy said.

Tango smiled. “Well thank you, Jimmy.” He dropped the top into its place on his belt, then turned around to get back to work.

“Hey,” Jimmy started. “Would you mind if I just sat here?”

“Not at all,” Tango replied, looking back at him over his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk or something while I work?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure,” he stammered, mentally letting out an immense sigh of relief.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“Uh,” Jimmy said, his mind completely blank. “I dunno, whatever.”

“Alright, then,” Tango laughed. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“No!” Jimmy snapped his mouth shut, embarrassed by his sudden outburst. “We can talk. I just don’t know what to talk about.”

“How was your morning?” Tango asked. “We’ll start with that.”

And so began one of the best conversations Jimmy had ever had. It was pleasant and casual, while still being interesting enough for him to enjoy. Though, he doubted any conversation with Tango could be boring. They talked about nearly everything that came to mind for the next few hours, from favorite foods (Tango’s was pancakes) to their shared love of animals (Tango said that he had once fallen asleep on the ground next to his friend’s cat). Jimmy’s favorite part, though, was when he asked Tango what brought him to the carpentry business.

“I like making things,” he had said. “I like tinkering, I like building, and I like being able to help other people with what I build.”

“Well you’re certainly helping me by doing this,” Jimmy said, long before he could think about his words.

“Yeah?” Tango raised an eyebrow.

Jimmy hesitated for a second. He wasn’t one to tell random people about his mistakes, especially not ones like these, but he guessed Tango wasn’t really random, was he? “It’s my fault that the fire started,” he admitted. The words flowed out of his mouth with surprising ease, like finally releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long. “And this was my favorite part of the house, so I’m glad it’ll be back soon. Thank you.” He had added on the last sentence in a bit of a rush, but it still managed to be one of the most genuine ‘thank yous’ he’d given in a long time.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Tango said, a smile on his face.

Jimmy gave a small chuckle, the smile on his face matching Tango’s.

A few seconds passed in silence, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable for either of them.

“Y’know, this isn’t unlike a date I once went on,” Tango said.

“Yeah?” Jimmy replied, hoping the conversation was going in the direction he wanted it to go in.

“These little conversations are kind of like mini dates if I’m honest,” he continued.

Jimmy was about to respond when he was cut off by a voice calling from further inside the house. “James!”

Jimmy froze. “My parents.” He said quietly.

Tango kept talking. “I could take you on a real date one of these days.”

The voice called again. “James!”

Tango locked eyes with him. “What do you say?”

Time seemed to freeze for Jimmy as he thought of what might happen. He couldn’t bear to throw this away—it was everything he could’ve ever wanted—but he was still faced with the looming consequences of what might happen if he did. He would get grounded, surely, maybe even disowned, but maybe he could be happy.

Maybe he and Tango could be happy without the pressure of his family on his back. He could imagine the two of them together on a calm summer’s day without a care in the world and his heart was aching at just the thought of it. He would do anything to make that dream a reality—that is, until reality crashed back down onto him. He was scared. He had a good life that he was grateful for and he had no idea what could happen if he gave it up, regardless of the reason. However much he wanted to say yes to Tango, he almost didn’t think he was capable of it.

He weighed his options, both of them screaming at him to do the right thing.

“James Solidarity!” His name, the one he hated, was ringing in his ears like a siren, warning—commanding—him to make the right choice.

“I can’t.” Jimmy said. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Jimmy looked up into Tango’s eyes, that reddish-brown that he loved so much. They were filled with confusion and disappointment, but ultimately understanding, which he could never thank Tango enough for.

“Ah. No problem.” Tango gave him a bit of a sad smile. “Sorry if I was coming on too hard or—“

“No, you’re fine, really,” Jimmy said. “I’m sorry.”

Tango nodded, a hint of confusion still on his face.

Jimmy returned his nod, then stood and stalked out of the room, trying to keep his tears from falling onto the new hardwood floor as Tango called out to him.

“Bye, Jimmy.”

He didn’t respond.

It had been almost a week since Jimmy had last talked to Tango. The repairs seemed almost done now, at least according to his judgment, and he would be lying if he said he was okay with it.

He had spent that week wandering around the manor, no one else to really talk to. This wasn’t particularly unlike his normal behavior, but Jimmy still found him much more bored than usual.

It was because of Tango, he knew it. He might’ve seemed a bit too standoffish, which might’ve been a bit of a mistake that he was completely regretting. Gods, what if Tango hated him? He wouldn’t blame him. He panicked, that was all, surely he would understand. But there was no way he would and Jimmy knew it, however much he would rather not think about it.

So, in order to try and avoid a public breakdown, Jimmy forced himself to avoid Tango, resisting the urge to walk over and strike up a conversation.

That lasted for about a day. Since then, Jimmy had taken to being in his general area, usually just a room away from wherever Tango was working that day, by coincidence of course.

He couldn’t tell if they were coincidences because of himself or his parents.

Part of him wished he would just stop. It wasn’t worth it and it never would be. It would never work out.

Every other part of him was barely resisting the urge to beat the previous into oblivion for even considering it.

That was what kept him here. Even though every second felt like a risk, every spared glance into Tango’s eyes made him wish he wasn’t pathetically bare of courage and every time he caught a fleeting bit of conversation, he ached to be the one Tango was talking to. And every time he heard his laugh he nearly melted.

Being here was such an incredible risk he couldn’t believe he stayed there—moved closer, even. It was a risk but Tango was worth it.

“Jimmy, is that you?”

Jimmy spun around immediately at hearing Tango’s voice, right before thinking that maybe he should seem a bit less desperate. Too late. “Tango.” Jimmy said.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Tango responded, a hint of a crooked smirk on his face. Jimmy had to fight with himself to keep his face straight. “So, how are you doing on this fine day, Jimmy?”

“Fine, and yourself?” Jimmy was almost cringing at giving Tango his basic, automatic responses. They were meant for diplomats and extended family, not him. Still though, he couldn’t make himself say anything better.

“Doin’ good, doin’ good.” He leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms. “So, Jimmy, not gonna lie, I’ve seen you around quite a bit. Something going on?”

“No.” Jimmy shot back, his response much less lighthearted than Tango’s. “There’s nothing, what made you think so?”

He meant the question rhetorically, but Tango responded anyway. “Ah, well, I just figured you might have something to say to me considering how often we’ve seen each other.”

A split second of hesitation—barely anything but much too long for Jimmy’s taste. “No. This is my house, I can go wherever I please.”

Tango let out a laugh and Jimmy’s mind froze. It sounded warm and friendly and he was fighting to keep a smile down and it was ringing in his head so much that he almost didn’t hear Tango’s response. “Alright, Jimmy, whatever you say.” Tango shrugged.

Mind void of any other possible responses, Jimmy gave him a curt nod, then spun around and stalked away from him, a whirl of emotions flooding through his heart and lungs, which would’ve been paralyzing if not for his tremendous need to get out of Tango’s general vicinity now, in fear of confessing his love on the spot.

He left the room, leaving Tango leaning against the wall with a faint smile.

Jimmy’s heart was fluttering as he stood, silent, alone in a hallway. Unfortunately, it was fluttering in less of an ‘in love’ kind of way and more of a ‘close to a panic attack’ way.

He could hear people talking in the hallway that intersected the one he was in, talking about things most likely related to the now finished repair job. Tango’s voice was among those speaking.

What if this was a bad idea? He had been thinking about this moment since Tango had uttered the word ‘date,’ and yet he was still scared that it would go wrong. Not like he expected anything else, but it was still less than fun to be sitting here second-guessing himself.

The conversation around the corner stopped. Footsteps started in his direction. Jimmy pressed himself against the wall, not inhaling nearly enough air through his shallow breaths. His eyes were locked on the opening where the hallways crossed, waiting for one specific person to walk past…

A stroke of golden blond caught Jimmy’s eye. He lunged forward, arm out—

Something grabbed onto Tango’s wrist and pulled him back into a hallway, his arms pinwheeling to try and keep his balance. “Wh—hey!”

When his arm was finally released, Tango spun around, ready to find out who decided to randomly yank him into a hallway with no explanation, when he caught Jimmy’s eyes instead.

They were an amazing shade of honey brown, sparkling in a stripe of sunlight let in through a window and wide open in a slightly panicked looking expression. “Jimmy?”

He opened his mouth as if he was about to respond, then shut it and grabbed Tango’s wrist again, pulling him into a nearby coat closet and shutting the door behind them.

“Jimmy?” Tango repeated. “What’s going on, what are you—”

“Tango. Look at me in the eyes.” Jimmy cut him off as he grabbed the other’s hands in his, holding them tightly. “Will you go out with me?”

A second passed in Tango’s stunned silence, leaving a blanket of uncomfortable tension over the two of them. Jimmy grabbing his hands had startled him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he took that precious second to soak in the question Jimmy had just asked, almost relieved that he did so.

He didn’t get the chance to respond before Jimmy dropped his hands and stepped back, the red tinge of embarrassment blooming across his cheeks. “Forget I asked.”

“No, wait a second,” Tango protested, stepping towards Jimmy and closing the gap between them once again. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

A smile broke out across Tango’s face. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay!”

“So where are we going?”

Jimmy froze. “Uhh…”

Tango could help but stifle a laugh as he realized Jimmy definitely hadn’t thought this all the way through. “I know of a little park close to here,” he suggested.

Jimmy nodded, relief clear on his face. “Yeah, no problem. I think I know what you’re talking about—the one with that old barn, right?”

“Yep! You’ve been there before?”

“I used to go with a friend of mine,” Jimmy explained.

“I see. Well, are you free Friday?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

Tango gave a small nod. “See you there at, uh, 1?”

“I’ll bring some food or something,” Jimmy offered.

“Excellent.” Tango smiled. “See you then.”

“Yep!” Jimmy smiled back.

Tango stepped back, reaching for the doorknob to the closet, and let himself out, leaving the door open behind him.

“Bye, Jimmy,” he called back.

“Bye, Tango.” Jimmy responded.

“Please,” Jimmy repeated. “C’mon, just this once.”

Bdubs stood with his arms crossed, looking at Jimmy with a skeptical squint. He was somehow able to keep a flat face as Bee, the horse he was currently tending to, butted her head up against his arm. “What is this for again?”

“I-“ Jimmy started to answer, but was cut off by Bdubs’ raised finger.

“And you better tell me the actual truth, mister, or else I’m not helping.”

Jimmy deflated. “Fine. I’m going to meet this guy and I really need you to cover for me, alright?” He knew that this was a bit of a risk, but he couldn’t think of another way to get out of the house without raising suspicion, and Bdubs probably wouldn’t tell anyone. Besides, he was desperate.

Bdubs cocked his head to the side. “You’re serious.”

“Yes, I am,” he insisted. “So can you cover for me? Pleeeeeease?” Jimmy tried to do his best puppy-dog eyes at Bdubs, which was a bit challenging since he was much taller, but he tried his best to pull it off.

“Goodness’ sakes,” Bdubs muttered. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Incredible, thank you very much, Bdubs, I owe you,” Jimmy replied, already hurrying out of the stables, a smile beaming across his face.

“I want a raise!” he called after him. He doubted Jimmy had even heard him.

Jimmy started up the path towards the park he and Tango agreed to meet in, a small basket in one hand. He had asked the chef to make some pancakes for him, remembering Tango’s comment about them. He hoped Tango would like them. When he had said ‘pancakes’ as his answer to Jimmy’s question, he didn’t specify which kind, so he decided that it was best to have a variety. Naturally, part of him was afraid that it still wasn’t enough, that he wanted a specific flavor that he hadn’t even heard of from a bakery across the country, which he knew was ridiculous. He still brought four different flavors, though. Just in case.

He had opted to walk the whole way to the park, rather than taking a horse in hopes of avoiding suspicion. He wasn’t sure if it had worked or not, but he hoped so. The walk was longer than he expected, to say the least, but he had already decided that it was worth it. His palms were getting a bit sweaty, though. His fist was clenched around the handle of his basket, almost as if he was holding it for comfort.

The path was nestled between two small hills, in a valley of sorts. The park that he was heading to found its home in a small clearing between the two hills, transitioning into a field that stretched across the horizon, dotted with daisies and dandelions. Also on that horizon was the old barn the two of them had used to identify the area, its rustic and endearing charm making the scene seem more like a painting than real life.

Jimmy stopped just where the clearing and the meadow met, something having caught his eye. It was a blanket laid out on the grass of the meadow, a light shade of somewhat desaturated yellow with a figure sitting on it—Tango. A smile flickered onto Jimmy’s face.

Once again, Jimmy was relieved upon seeing Tango there, even though it was nonsensical that Tango would’ve bailed, seeing as he was the one to offer a date in the first place, but that fact did absolutely nothing to help cure Jimmy’s self-doubt.

Jimmy continued walking, still smiling. He reached up with his free hand and gave a wave to Tango across the grass, who caught his eye and waved back.

“Tango, hi,” Jimmy started. “The blanket was a good idea.”

“Thanks!” Tango smiled. “I figured I should contribute too, and since you said you were bringing food,” he gestured at the basket Jimmy was holding, “I thought—picnic!”

“Yeah,” Jimmy nodded, setting down the basket and sitting next to it, crossing his legs.

Tango was staring off towards the horizon, looking a bit enthralled by their surroundings. “I forgot how pretty this place was. I haven’t been here in years.”

“Me too,” Jimmy added.

The two of them settled into a comfortable silence as both of their eyes wandered across the scene they were immersed in, both of them taking occasional detours to look at the other instead.

Jimmy pulled the two out of quietness as he reached towards the basket he had brought. “I didn’t know which kind you like best so I brought a bunch,” he said, unpacking the basket. When he was finished, there were four stacks of three pancakes each, all of them set on plates that were probably too fancy to be on the ground; he didn’t care, though. His parents certainly wouldn’t notice them missing and Tango deserved better than ground pancakes.

“We’ve got strawberry, blueberry, chocolate and plain,” he said, gesturing at each of the piles in turn. “Take your pick!”

Tango seemed almost speechless for a second. “Wow! This looks amazing, I—” he laughed, his smile growing across his face. “When you said you’d bring food, I didn’t expect this!”

A pang of something awful—regret, foolishness, embarrassment—struck deep into Jimmy’s heart. “Oh, I—is it too much?” He backpedaled. “I thought it was too much, I’m sorry, I—”

“Woah woah woah, wait, hold on, I never said that,” Tango protested. “It isn’t too much, it’s amazing. Saying sorry is quite literally the opposite of what you should be doing,” he joked.

“Oh!” A familiar red tinge found its way to Jimmy’s cheeks. “Well, thanks! I’m glad you like it.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Tango said, looking up from the pancakes to lock eyes with Jimmy.

Jimmy chuckled, letting out what felt like thousands of pounds of stress as he did so. “Right, well, dig in!”

Both of them had one of each of the pancakes so they were both able to try all of the flavors. Tango had insisted that he try them too, even though he had practically grown up on them. Jimmy was grateful that he did, though. They sent a rush of calming nostalgia through his body, only making him even more glad to be there with him.

Once the two of them had finished trying each of the flavors, it didn’t take long for the rest of the pancakes to disappear.

“That really was great,” Tango said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s good,” Jimmy replied, stacking the now empty plates back into the basket. When he was done, he closed the basket’s lid and joined Tango in calm silence.

The sun was slowly creeping its way across the sky as time passed, the two of them in casual conversation. Tango had been right—it did seem like the conversations they had already been having; this one was just a bit fancier. And like their other conversations, Jimmy found himself enthralled by even the most mundane of topics.

Their date really wasn’t much, but Jimmy wouldn’t describe it as anything other than amazing.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve actually ever been into that barn,” Tango started.

“Really?”

“Wanna go check it out?”

Tango’s reply caught Jimmy off-guard—it wasn’t too often that people offered to explore abandoned barns with him—but his reply was instant. “Sure.”

The two of them made their way through the meadow, carving an ever-so-slightly winding path through the knee-high grass. Chirping crickets and singing birds accompanied them on their walk, adding a bit of background music to their conversation. The sun’s rays shone down on them, beaming light and heat across their skin. Before the warmth could get uncomfortable, though, the breeze swept it away, keeping the pair of them cool as they drew closer to the barn before finally reaching it.

It was fairly large, covered in light brown paint that was chipping off in flakes. There were a few small holes in the wooden planks that made up its walls and ceiling, but otherwise the building seemed to be fairly intact, although a bit overgrown.

Tango pulled on one of its hefty doors, using what looked like a considerable amount of effort to drag it through the unkempt grass blocking the entrance. Eventually, though, he was able to wrench it open. He stood next to the door, gesturing into the barn with one hand. “After you.”

“How considerate,” Jimmy joked before making his way into the barn.

The inside of the building was about the same level of deserted as the outside—holes and chipping paint, now accompanied by scattered piles of hay and grass.

Almost immediately, a sound caught Jimmy’s ear. It was high-pitched and a bit quiet, but he could tell what it was: a meow.

“Did you hear that?” He asked Tango, who had just entered the barn behind him.

“What?”

“It was like a cat,” he started, before he heard the sound again. “There!”

The two of them followed the sound to a small pile of hay in one of the corners. Tango pushed the pile aside to reveal a small kitten, curled up into itself. Its’ fur was mostly black, with patches of a creamy white on its arms and stomach, and all of it was slightly matted.

Jimmy let out a small gasp, eyes locked on the animal. “We have to help it.”

“Yes.” Tango agreed. He cleared more of the surrounding hay, craving out more of a clearing for the kitten.

“We can be like ranchers,” Jimmy said. “This is a ranch, and if we’re taking care of something, we’re ranchers.”

“Y’know, you’re not wrong,” Tango shrugged.

Jimmy turned to him. “What should we name him?”

Tango thought for a second. “Pancakes?”

“No, that’s bad.” Jimmy waved him off, ignoring Tango’s vague sounds of offendedness. “What about Remington?”

“What?”

He continued, still paying no mind to Tango’s comments. “But he’s a rancher too, so we should call him Rancher Remington.”

“Double R,” Tango immediately suggested.

“Perfect.”

The two of them still had their eyes locked on Double R, twin smiles on their faces.

“We should probably meet back here in a couple days to check on Double R,” Jimmy said.

“Mhm, and this totally isn’t just you asking me out,” Tango smirked.

“Yep.” Jimmy tried to ignore the fact that he was blushing again.

A few seconds passed before Tango looked up at Jimmy. “I have no idea how to take care of a cat.”

“We will figure it out together,” Jimmy promised. He held his hand out towards Tango, as if offering a handshake.

Tango took his hand, smiling, then flipped it over and pressed a kiss onto his knuckle.

Jimmy smiled.

Tango leaned on the doorway to the room Etho was in, arms crossed. “Hey, do you still have your cat’s old bed?”

Etho frowned, looking up from his book. “Probably. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“If I can find it,” Etho said, standing up and setting his book on the table, still open with the pages down.

Tango stayed leaning against the doorway as Etho walked past him and out of the room, presumably looking for the bed. He heard the sounds of Etho rummaging through old things before he returned, cat bed in hand.

“Here ya go,” He held it out to Tango, who took it. Then he sat back down and picked up his book. “Can I ask what it’s for?” “Well, I met this guy at the old park we used to go to yesterday and we found a cat in the barn, which we have decided to take care of.”

“Ah.” Etho nodded. “So how’s he?”

Tango looked off in thought, remembering the events of the previous day. “He’s nice. And really caring.”

“So you like him?”

“Well yeah, if I didn’t then I wouldn’t be doing this, would I?”

Etho shrugged. “You owe me for that, by the way.”

Tango waved him off. “Yeah, yeah.” He walked over to the exit of Etho’s apartment, throwing a quick, “Bye,” to Etho before leaving.

Tango pushed the door to the barn open and was immediately surprised to see flickering light coming from the inside.

Jimmy looked up at him, his face instantly lighting up. “Tango! I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Me neither,” Tango admitted. “What’re you doing here?”

He held up a small chunk of some kind of meat. “I thought I’d bring some food for Double R. You?”

Tango gestured to the bed slightly. “This was my friend’s, he said I could have it for Double R.”

“Oh, perfect,” Jimmy smiled. “Well come over here, then.”

Tango complied, setting the bed down next to Jimmy before sitting down himself. He watched as Jimmy tore small pieces of meat off the chunk he was holding and offered them to Double R, who usually ripped them out of Jimmy’s hand before turning around to nibble at it. // A faint smile found its way onto Tango’s face.

Jimmy fed the last shred of meat to Double R, who immediately started pawing at Jimmy’s knee upon finishing it. Jimmy reached down and picked him up in response, cradling the kitten in his arms.

Tango almost melted at the sight, dying of cuteness overload between the two of them. He let out a quiet “Aww,” which Jimmy smiled at.

Soon enough, he fell asleep in Jimmy’s arms. Very carefully, Jimmy set him back down so he could really rest on a surface that wasn’t mildly afraid of dropping him.

“You’re very graceful,” Tango commented.

“Yeah, I’ve been taking dance lessons forever,” he shrugged.

“Can you teach me?” Tango blurted out. Part of him regretted the sentence the moment it left his mouth, but by then it was too late, so he continued. “I’m pretty bad,” he laughed.

Jimmy stood, reaching a hand out to Tango. “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he reassured him.

“You haven’t seen me dance yet,” Tango countered, standing up and taking Jimmy’s hand.

“I suppose you’re right.” Jimmy held both of their hands out to the side, placing his other hand right where Tango’s ribcage ended. “I’ll lead, then.”

Tango nodded before realizing that he was still awkwardly holding his free hand up in the air, unsure of where to put it. He froze, a bit of fear in his eyes, and looked at Jimmy, who thankfully got the message. He reached up and moved Tango’s hand to his shoulder, keeping their shared look intact.

Tango gave Jimmy a nervous smile, and Jimmy returned it with a smile full of happiness and patience.

“You ready?” Jimmy asked.

“Who knows?” Tango shrugged, his smile beaming.

Jimmy nodded. “We’ll go slowly.” He stepped back, giving Tango enough time to follow him before taking another step. Then he turned to the side, then moved towards Tango, each step leading the pair of them gradually around the room.

As they danced, Tango started to move less sharply, flowing with Jimmy’s movements instead of simply following. He was understanding the intricacies of their dance now, recognizing patterns in the lines they traced across the floor.

Jimmy smirked. “I’m gonna spin you.”

“Wait, what?”

Jimmy lifted his hand from Tango’s waist and held both of their hands up high, starting to rotate Tango’s wrist. Tango spun once, twice, stumbling slightly until Jimmy caught him in a dip.

The pair of them froze. Jimmy’s face was about a foot directly over Tango’s as he held him above the floor, his arms wrapped around him. A pinkish red bloomed across Jimmy’s cheeks just as the same shade completely covered Tango’s face.

“That was a close one,” Jimmy gave a small, sheepish laugh.

Tango, still being held up by Jimmy, also laughed, but it seemed like a release of stress more than anything else. “That was great,” he said, mind slightly stuck on just how much of an understatement the sentence was.

Jimmy smiled, pulling Tango back up to standing. “We can keep going, if you’d like,” he offered.

Tango put his hand back on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Jimmy chuckled, resuming their dance where they had left off. He moved slightly faster now, adapting to Tango’s newfound comfort while dancing. Tango adapted to the new pace, his feet moving faster to match Jimmy’s. He was still taking occasional glances at the floor to double-check his footing, but he was looking into Jimmy’s eyes much more, which Jimmy couldn’t say that he disliked.

As their speed increased, the dance became more elegant. Tango supposed that the speed helped him find his balance, which was pure speculation on his part but he would rather put more focus into moving his feet the right way and staring into Jimmy’s eyes than actually figuring it out. So, he pushed himself to keep going, to keep up with Jimmy, almost feeling like he would let himself down if he didn’t. His heart was somehow pounding and fluttering at the same time, driven by a mixture of happiness and physical activity; although he was pretty sure the former was more responsible than not.

At this point, he and Jimmy were staring into each other’s eyes constantly as they danced, both of their faces split by a smile.

Then Tango’s foot caught on something. He stumbled into Jimmy, falling and taking both of them down onto the ground. Tango almost thought he heard something like paper ripping as they fell.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tango started, already apologizing before even picking himself up off the ground.

Jimmy waved him off, brushing dust off his arms. “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “I fell all the time when I first started.”

“There’s no way,” Tango disagreed. “You’re so amazing at—”

Then he noticed it. There was a rip in Jimmy’s jacket, starting at the bottom hem and running at least three inches up into the fabric. It was like a ravine carved into the silky blue fabric, slicing through the delicate embroidery on the edges and leaving the edges jagged and slightly frayed.

“Oh god.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What? What happened?” “There’s a rip in your jacket,” Tango responded, the sound of horror evident in his voice.

Jimmy looked down, following Tango’s panicked stare to find the aforementioned rip, seeming significantly less upset than Tango. “Oh, that’s—”

“I’m so sorry!” Tango repeated himself, unsure of what else to say. “It’s completely my fault, I messed up.” His hands were held out towards Jimmy, as if he was trying to surrender to the fabric itself, or like he was warming his hands with the heat from the fire that Jimmy’s jacket might as well have been on, considering Tango’s reaction to it.

“No, really, it’s fine,” Jimmy reassured him, to no avail.

“No, it’s not.” Tango’s face was racked with guilt. “Oh, I don’t know how to make it up to you, I am so sorry.”

“Tango.” Jimmy locked eyes with him. “Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in a while. I’m having a great time, and I promise that it really doesn’t matter if my jacket is ripped. Alright?” He hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

Jimmy offered his hand once again. “How about we finish our dance?”

A full three seconds of breaths that were much too fast and too shallow to be adequate passed before Tango finally put his hand in Jimmy’s. He almost didn’t let his hand fall into Jimmy’s at all.

They both resumed their previous positions, Tango much more reluctantly than Jimmy, who was giving him a small, reassuring smile.

They moved slower this time, to say the least. Tango thought that it was almost too fast, as he was doing literally everything in his power to keep himself upright this time. Tango kept his eyes on the ground and Jimmy kept his eyes on Tango, still gently leading the two.

Slowly and eventually, Tango’s horror at the situation faded enough for him to actually look up at Jimmy. He was immediately met with a warm familiar smile that would’ve hurt him not to return. Tango forced himself to give Jimmy a small, meek grin in response, fighting the urge to grimace instead.

His mind kept drifting back to the sound of the gorgeous fabric tearing, although it sounded more like a gunshot after echoing in his head for so long. It was starting to become almost painful—whether physically or mentally he couldn’t tell—so instead he forced himself to focus on the freckles scattered across Jimmy’s nose, the softness of his hand, the slight upward curl of his eyelashes, the neat stitching on his shirt collar, the shininess of his hair, the rip in his jacket, the rip in his jacket, the rip in his jacket—

And his eyes. His honey-sweet, warm ray of sunshine, deep, complex, full of compassion and understanding and love, perfect golden brown eyes.

Was he telling the truth? Did it really not matter to him?

After one final step, Jimmy stopped. Tango stopped abruptly a second after.

Jimmy smiled. “So how did you like your first dance lesson?”

“It was good,” Tango answered, still mildly petrified. “I, uh, have to go, though.”

“Oh, alright. I’m glad you thought it was good,” Jimmy gave a small chuckle. “Right, so meet back here in a few days? Is that okay?”

Tango nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great, see you then!” His smile was still shining.

“I’m so sorry.” Tango’s voice was at a half-whisper.

“That’s really not necessary,” Jimmy insisted. “Thank you for the dance, Tango.”

He just nodded in response.

Tango barged through Etho’s door, a mixture of panic and fear in his eyes. “Etho I messed up.”

Etho, who had previously been taking a nap on his couch, didn’t bother to open his eyes before responding. “What did you do?”

“So there might’ve been some dancing—I asked him to teach me—and then I might’ve tripped and ripped his probably super expensive jacket,” Tango rambled, starting to pace back and forth.

“Well-”

“And he was so nice about it too, he was insisting that it was okay, and smiling, and just being really cool like he didn’t care at all and I feel so bad,”

“Tango.”

“He hates me. He totally hates me. I messed up so bad,” Tango groaned.

“He probably doesn’t,” Etho countered.

Tango just grumbled in response.

“Chill out. Literally everything you’ve told me about this guy makes me think that he actually didn’t care, okay?”

“Well you’re wrong,” Tango said stubbornly.

“Isn’t there that little part of you that doubts yourself, though?”

Tango frowned.

“Usually I wouldn’t say this, but listen to that part because right now, it’s right.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Etho raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. You know that he’s a good person, right?”

Tango mumbled something along the lines of a ‘yes.’

“And he’s been relatively honest so far?”

“Yeah.”

“So would it make sense for him to repeatedly tell you something that he didn’t believe was true?”

Tango sighed. “No.”

“So does he actually care?”

“Probably not,” Tango conceded.

“Great,” Etho said. “So when are you meeting next?”

“A couple days.”

“Fantastic. Have fun, tell him I say hi.” Then he turned onto his side and resumed his nap, leaving Tango to show himself out.

“Y’know I can’t cover for you forever,” Bdubs said.

Jimmy turned his head slightly towards him, still half absorbed in his thoughts. “What?”

“This thing you have with Mr. what’s-his-name—”

“Tango.”

“Goodness’ sakes,” he muttered. “You know that they’re gonna start asking questions eventually, right?”

Jimmy waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, but that’s not happening yet, is it?” He met Bdubs’ eyes and his expression softened a bit. “Just—keep doing what you’re doing, okay? I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but they don’t know anything and I’m going to take advantage of that as long as I can. Thank you.”

Bdubs sighed. “You’re welcome. And for the record, I hope this goes well for you.”

Jimmy smiled. “Thanks.”

The sun was setting, painting the sky around Jimmy and Tango in a sea of colors, from pale pink to sunflower yellow. The two of them were sitting on Tango’s picnic blanket, watching the sun disappear behind the hills.

Between them, Double R was playing in the grass, pouncing on innocent flowers. Tango had shifted his eyes from the sunset to the kitten, a smile appearing on his face.

Jimmy, however, had moved to look at Tango. The warm rays of the setting sun had cast him in a gorgeous shade of golden light that made something in Jimmy’s mind dissolve. And the way he was looking at Double R—he was so kind and compassionate and caring, compared to Jimmy, who was cheating his way into being here.

“Why do you like me?” Jimmy asked.

The sudden question seemed to startle Tango a bit, but he responded instantly. “Because you’re you.”

That caught Jimmy off-guard. “What?”

“You’re you,” Tango repeated. “You always know the right thing to say or do, you’re so kind, you never cease to be amazing—I could go on. The point is, you’re perfect. How could I not like you?”

Jimmy broke out into a smile. He didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth.

Tango pushed the door to the barn open, his eyes already scanning for Jimmy—he somehow always managed to get there first, no matter how hard Tango tried—but it seemed that Tango had beaten him there. Before he got to celebrate his victory, though, he noticed a small piece of paper stuck to the back of the door. He stepped closer to read what he realized was a note and immediately recognized Jimmy’s handwriting.

Tango,

I can’t make it today. I’m sorry. I think my parents are starting to realize that I’m sneaking out and they’re making me sit in on this conference or something. Sorry.

I had a friend’s friend drop this note off, and he’s kind of a mail carrier for the area, so if you leave a note here he can get it to me.

I want to see you again soon.

Your fellow Rancher,

Jimmy

Tango frowned. Jimmy was starting to talk about his parents more as of recent, and it was starting to worry him. He knew Jimmy wasn’t lying about this, which made the whole thing 100 times worse.

Unable to do anything else about his concern, he took the note off the door, folded it and put it in his pocket.

Jimmy’s mouth was pursed as he walked through the lobby of the Town Hall. The jacket he had on was hardly comfortable and the wig his mother made him wear was itchy on the back of his neck and it was so hot inside—Jimmy didn’t think he could hate anything more. He’d much rather be outside in the open meadow, running through the grass or laying amongst the flowers with Tango and Double R. However, to Jimmy’s dismay, he was here.

“James, there you are.” His father stepped out from one of the Hall’s rooms, gesturing for him to come closer with an unpleasant look of urgency on his face. “Where have you been? You’re late.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not expecting his words to be acknowledged at all.

“You know, whatever it is you’re getting up to, it is not worth your time, I’m sure of it. You seem to have no idea of what is important anymore, much less a sense of punctuality. His father huffed.

Jimmy’s face stayed flat. It was almost sad to him—they were so incredibly wrong and didn’t even know it.

Tango sat down next to Etho, two cups of water in his hands. He set one in front of Etho, then leaned back in his chair and sipped from his own glass.

The company the two of them worked for had moved onto another project after completing their work on the Solidarity’s Manor. The new job had kept him fairly busy as of late, which made it hard for him to find time to take care of Double R and see Jimmy. It was unfortunate, but he suspected Jimmy was currently having a worse time than he was.

As if reading his mind, Etho turned to him and asked a question. “So how are you and Jimmy doing?”

“We’re doing great,” Tango responded, a gleam of happiness shining through his voice. “He has been a bit busy recently so I haven’t really seen him, which sucks. Double R is doing great too, if you were wondering.”

Etho tilted his head to the side. “And you aren’t worried that he’s … not interested?”

“What?” “Well, you said that he got busy all of a sudden, so aren’t you worried that he’s just saying that so he doesn’t have to see you?”

“No,” Tango said with absolute certainty.

Etho looked skeptical. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t believe you called this ‘just a piece of wood with some letters’—this is amazing!” Jimmy said, looking up at the Red Velvet Bakery’s sign, the one Tango had made.

“It really isn’t,” Tango protested.

“Shhh,” Jimmy cut him off. “You’re wrong.”

The pair of them stayed standing in front of the shop for a solid two minutes, to the confusion of everyone around them, as Jimmy admired Tango’s work and Tango denied his skill and also failed to convince Jimmy to actually go inside.

The sign was stained a warm, reddish brown, with elegant, neat script carved into it. There were small bunches of flowers and leaves carved into each of the corners, along with a border that framed the writing nicely.

Jimmy turned to look at Tango. “You really are incredible, you know that?” A slight red tinge covered Tango’s face. “Shut up.”

Jimmy sat next to Tango, both of their backs against a tree on the edge of the clearing. There were small piles of wildflowers in each of their laps, freshly picked from the meadow. In Jimmy’s hands was a flower crown, woven from the daisies and dandelions the two of them had picked, and in Tango’s hands was a much less successful attempt at the same process.

“I still don’t get how you can be so good at that,” Tango said, calmly watching Jimmy’s hands work to incorporate another flower.

“A lot of practice,” Jimmy shrugged. “I used to make these all the time when I was younger.”

“Ah. Well yours does look a whole lot better than mine,” Tango admitted, looking at his own, slightly flimsy crown before placing it on his head with a sheepish grin.

Jimmy looked up. “Well, it isn’t too bad,” he offered, which made Tango laugh. He finished attaching the final flower and held up the crown to inspect it, before reaching up to take Tango’s crown off his head and replace it with the one he made, putting Tango’s crown on his own head.

“What?” Tango gave a small laugh, reaching up to touch his new flower crown while keeping his eyes on Jimmy. “C’mon, mine isn’t nearly perfect enough for you—-“

“Yes it is,” Jimmy smiled. “You made it.”

A wave of red washed over Tango’s face before he quickly regained his composure. “Well I guess you don’t need it to look amazing, do you?”

A matching red blush covered Jimmy’s cheeks.

Tango was walking along the side of the road, in the direction of where he remembered the Solidarity Manor to be. Another one of Jimmy’s notes was in his pocket, where he put it after finding it on the back of the barn door like usual. Jimmy was busy again, to both of their dismay, and couldn’t meet him at the barn. So, he decided that if Jimmy couldn’t come to him, he would go to Jimmy.

It took far too many minutes of hiding behind bushes and sneaking across swaths of grass before finally spotting Jimmy. He was alone, standing on one of the many balconies attached to the Manor, leaning against the railing. He had told Tango that it was where he spent most of his time these days, which made it a lot easier for Tango to find him, thankfully.

Tango quickly snuck across one final patch of empty grass before reaching Jimmy’s window.

“Jimmy!” Tango whisper-shouted, trying to be as loud as he could without alerting anyone else. “Jimmy!”

After a couple more iterations with Tango getting consistently louder, Jimmy finally looked down. “Tango?”

“Jimmy!” A smile was beaming across Tango’s face.

Jimmy’s expression was filled with recognition and relief. “Tango. Goodness, it is good to see you.” He paused. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, since you couldn’t get to the Ranch, I thought I would come to you,” Tango explained.

Jimmy looked almost stunned. “I—thank you.”

“So how are you holding up?” Tango asked.

“Not great,” Jimmy admitted, his eyes flitting around their surroundings.

Tango exhaled, frowning. He started to speak but was cut off by Jimmy, who seemed to be getting more jittery by the minute. “Did anyone see you?”

Tango was a bit taken aback, but answered Jimmy’s question. “No—well, I don’t think so,”

Jimmy nodded, but the concern on his face was still very much present.

“Are you okay?” Tango asked.

Jimmy exhaled sharper than Tango was expecting. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit stressed—Tango, you really can’t be here. I really really appreciate you for coming to visit me, but you cannot be here.” His expression looked pained, but his face was set.

“Oh! I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t—” The red tinge of blush covered Tango’s face, heat stinging his skin.

“No, no, no, really it’s not your fault,” Jimmy promised, waving his hands frantically. “I’m really sorry.”

Tango paused, letting silence fall over the two of them. For a second, Etho’s words from before rang in his head. Tango guessed that Etho would’ve been suspicious of the situation, thinking that Jimmy was hiding something from him, but the pain in Jimmy’s eyes was some of the most genuine he had ever seen, completely dispelling any concerns Tango could ever have. Instead, he was overcome with worry for Jimmy. There was no way this situation was good for him. He had said that he was stressed, and Tango wouldn’t have been surprised if that was an understatement.

“It’s okay,” Tango said. “I’ll tell Double R you say hi.” He smiled.

Relief flooded across Jimmy’s face, seemingly washing away the tenseness his shoulders once held. Tango just barely caught the bitter aftertaste of melancholy heartache in his eyes.

“Thank you.” Jimmy said.

Tango nodded. They two of them held each other’s eyes for a second more before Tango turned and Jimmy watched him walk away.

Tango’s pocket was full of notes from the past few days, all found in the same spot on the back of the barn door and all signed with the same name: Jimmy.

They were all along the same lines, but somehow each one of them felt different.

Tango,

I’m sorry, I can’t make it again. I don’t even know what they want me to do this time—something about a celebration dinner? I’m really sorry.

Your Rancher,

Jimmy

Then from two days after that:

Dear Tango,

I’m so sorry. I really don’t know when I’ll be back. How is Double R doing? I really want to see him again.

Yours,

Jimmy

The next one came four days after.

My fellow Rancher,

I am so, so sorry. I’m so busy all the time, I barely have time to write these.

I miss you.

Jimmy

It had been about a week since he’d gotten that note. Since then, Tango had spent most of his waking moments in that barn, almost praying that another note—or better yet, Jimmy himself—would show up, to no avail. His company’s most recent job had finished early, leaving him with more than enough time to take care of Double R. Still though, he was left feeling empty from Jimmy’s absence.

“He probably hates me.” Jimmy dropped his head into his hands, his knees curled up to his stomach.

“I doubt it,” Bdubs muttered.

“C’mon,” Jimmy whined. “Quit lying. How could he not?”

“He literally snuck into the Manor to visit you,” Bdubs reminded him.

“And then I told him to leave.” He shot back. “It’s like I haven’t even been making an effort to see him lately. He hates me.”

Bdubs turned and grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders, shaking him a bit before staring into his eyes. “He does not hate you.”

“But are you sure?”

“I’m sure of it.” Tango was laying, draped across one of Etho’s chairs as Etho stared at him, slightly judgmentally.

“Yeah but are you?” Etho countered.

“It’s like literally the only explanation,” Tango said. “I did something and now he hates me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Tango shut the barn door behind him, sparing only the slightest of glances at the back of it. He had to do a double-take to make sure the piece of paper he saw was actually there.

He tore it off the door and unfolded it as quickly as he could without ripping it, his eyes scanning across the words at an impressive speed.

Tango,

I am quite literally beaming as I write this. I finally have a day to myself and I could not dream of doing anything other than seeing you and Double R again. I would love to meet you at the barn on Saturday, if that’s alright with you.

I’m so sorry it’s taken this long, but I greatly look forward to your response. Thank you for being patient with me.

Your Rancher,

Jimmy

Tango nearly collapsed with joy. He was smiling ear-to-ear, clutching the piece of paper like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

He was finally going to see Jimmy again.

“This is for you,” Bdubs said, handing Jimmy a folded piece of paper.

The slight knowing look in Bdubs’ eyes let Jimmy know exactly who it was from, even though he had already guessed. The anticipation filled his stomach with waves, until he finally unfolded the note.

There was only one word written on the paper, big enough to take up almost all of the available space.

YES

Joy and relief filled his body as he thanked almost everything he could think of, regardless of their involvement.

He was finally going to see Tango again.

Jimmy ended up speed walking to the barn, doing his best to ignore the slight cramps that were starting to form in his sides. He was clutching onto the same small basket he had brought the first time the two of them met here, gripping onto the handle so hard his fingers were starting to go white. He requested pancakes again, although this selection of flavors was different, except for the strawberry ones, which Tango had deemed as his favorite.

The hint of a smile was hiding just barely below the surface of Jimmy’s expression, held in place by just the slightest bit of doubt. He felt as though he was so incredibly close to the moment he had been chasing for so long, but there was still something telling him that it would never happen. Maybe Tango would suddenly bail on him, maybe his parents would whisk him away to attend some meaningless dinner, maybe he would get struck by lightning. Whatever.

Tango’s note was still in his pocket. Jimmy had refolded it exactly on the original creases, careful not to damage the paper in any way. He had put it in his breast pocket, right on top of where his heart was. It felt safer there.

Gosh, he was excited. That was the best word he could think of to describe what he was feeling, but quite honestly, it was nowhere close. There were a million other feelings in his heart that he couldn’t hope of describing, so ‘excited’ would have to do, he supposed. Besides, why bother to waste time on finding the right words when he could concentrate on walking faster?

Tango clutched his hands together, tight. He had resorted to pacing in circles, paving a small path in the grass. There was a seemingly permanent and very nervous smile plastered on his face as he walked, occasionally glancing at the point where the path met the horizon, intent on spotting Jimmy the very second that he would see Tango.

He let his grip relax for a second, just so he could smooth back his hair and straighten his jacket—that he had spent fifteen minutes picking out—for the fourth time in about ten minutes, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

You could say that he was a bit nervous.

Tango looked back to the horizon, just in time to see a figure appear.

The second Jimmy spotted a figure standing on one of the hills, he had to fight the urge to break out into a sprint. What he couldn’t stop, though, was the gleaming smile plastered across his face.

Jimmy pushed himself even harder, walking as fast as he could without running towards Tango. After a few seconds, though, he decided that wasn’t nearly fast enough. So, he ran, his arms and legs pumping, pushing himself through the air and across the ground and even closer to Tango.

By the time he was just ten feet away, he had forgotten the need to hold onto the basket, completely letting go of the handle and letting it drop onto the grass, fancy plates be damned. By the time he was five feet from Tango, he was ready to jump into Tango’s open arms, whether he was ready for it or not.

Jimmy launched himself into the air and Tango caught him, the force of the impact sending both of them to the grass. There was a chance that he wasn’t quite ready.

Both of them were already laughing, smiling, so completely focused on the other that the fact that both of them were on the ground might as well have been irrelevant. Forget ‘might as well have been’—it was irrelevant. Who cared if they were getting a bit dirty, they were finally in each other’s arms again. If anyone did care, it certainly was not the two of them.

Tango wrapped his arms around Jimmy in a proper hug, rather than being all jumbled up. Jimmy followed suit, putting the two of them in a tight, warm embrace, where they stayed for longer than was worth counting.

Tango whispered into Jimmy’s ear. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Jimmy whispered back. “I think I am too.”

Tango hugged him back harder.

Eventually, the two of them let go. Jimmy retrieved his basket and the two of them snacked on the pancakes he brought as the sun crawled across the sky above them. They got lost in conversation like they always did, bodies still half-intertwined under the shade of a tree. Jimmy leaned his head on Tango’s shoulder and Tango put his head on top of Jimmy’s as they laced their hands together. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and yellow that mixed with the deep blue of the sky above it. The stars were starting to twinkle, shining down on them as night slowly overtook the day. Jimmy’s eyes fluttered, eyelids seeming to get gradually heavier as the moon rose. Jimmy was curled up next to Tango, sharing body heat with him—although it was more the case of stealing his body heat for Jimmy.

Finally, the last strokes of yellow across the sky vanished, leaving the moon to claim the sky for the night.

Jimmy blinked, slowly, then closed his eyes.

Jimmy squeezed his already-closed eyes even further shut, trying to block out the sunlight that was now covering them. He didn’t usually have the sun in his eyes when he woke up.

He jolted awake, equal parts delighted and horrified at the scene he saw. He was still next to Tango, laying in the grass in the same spot he had apparently fallen asleep in before. His heart dropped into what very well could’ve been ice water for how it completely froze.

He pushed himself up and grabbed Tango’s hand, clutching it a bit too hard—hard enough to make Tango wake up.

He grumbled something Jimmy couldn’t really understand about being up so early, his eyes still closed. Jimmy shook his hand, still too hard. Tango groaned, “What’s goin on?”

“Tango, I have to go.” Jimmy spoke in a low, rushed voice.

“Wha?”

“Tango—” He shook him again, with both hands this time. “Please wake up.”

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times before locking eyes with Jimmy. “Hey, are you okay?” Jimmy shook his head. “I have to go.”

Tango’s eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Why? What’s going on?”

He took a single short breath; he felt as if he would start to hyperventilate if he tried to breathe more. “I have to go home. I shouldn’t have stayed here too long, they’re gonna catch on and I’m gonna get grounded and I’m not gonna be able to see you—” Jimmy cut himself off with another breath, completely failing in his efforts to not hyperventilate.

Tango put his hands on Jimmy’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug, pressing their bodies together. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jimmy whispered, tucking his chin behind Tango’s shoulder. His eyes were wide, filled with mortification and tears.

“It’s okay. Pinky promise.” Tango withdrew just enough to hold his pinky out to Jimmy, who matched his gesture, the two of them intertwining their fingers tightly.

After a few seconds, Jimmy slowly stepped back, pulling Tango’s hand with him before letting go. He took another step back. “Thank you.”

Tango nodded, a solemn smile on his face.

Jimmy turned and started walking away from him, squinting into the rays of the rising sun as a tear dropped from his eye.

Jimmy was walking at a pace he would consider quick, but his movements were reluctant at best. He was half-hoping that if he waited long enough, they might forget about him. His lungs seemed to be frozen in a state of full exhale. He was starting to get dizzy.

The walk seemed significantly shorter than when he had walked it yesterday. Much sooner than he was prepared for, Jimmy came face-to-face with the wrought iron of the gate that blocked the pathway, grimly staring at his family crest. Usually, he would’ve gone in through a staff entrance on the side of the house, but he didn’t see any point to it today. His entrance would be noticed whether he liked it or not.

He retrieved a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock on the gate, letting himself in. His mother had insisted that he have one in the case of emergencies, although his father

much rather wanted to give it to one of his business partners in a show of hospitality. Jimmy had been sitting outside on the patio, watching the stars as the two of them argued over it. Like usual, they had come up with a compromise by the next morning—and like usual, the compromise was something neither would have agreed to mere hours prior. They agreed that Father’s partner was to have the key they had at the moment, and they would commission a locksmith to make a copy for him. He didn’t know why he still kept it.

He started his trek up the long pathway toward the front door of his house. As he got closer, he could tell that the door was slightly ajar. His heart froze again.

Every step seemed like a true test of his spirit, and every step made him just that much closer to breaking down entirely. Although, he figured that the coming ordeal would probably be much worse for him if he was on the ground sobbing. So, when he finally reached the door, he stood tall, looking straight forward. His eyes and cheeks were almost dry. He clenched his fists, trying to remember Tango’s ever-fleeting warmth, and raised his fist.

Before he could bring himself to knock, the door swung in. Mother and Father were both standing in front of him. Neither looked a speck out of place. He looked down almost immediately.

“James. Where have you been?” Mother demanded.

“I was outside—-“

Father raised his eyebrow. “Likely story.”

“It was an accident, I promise, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. My deepest apologies.”

Mother gave a dissatisfied frown. “And why have you suddenly been gone so often?”

“I just prefer to be outside, I—“

“First the patio, now this?” Father’s tone was stern. “Get a hold of yourself, young man. I won’t tell you again.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And you’re filthy!” Mother gasped. “What has gotten into you?”

“Apologies, Mother.”

“You are not to leave this house, you are not to send or receive any letters and you are certainly not to go outside, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And since you’ve put us through so much trouble, you can make it up to your mother and I by attending our Summer Ball, without complaint.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And since you won’t be needing it anymore,” he held out his hand, “Your key.”

“Yes, sir.” The object in question was pressed into his hand without hesitation.

“Now, up to your room. We’ll be expecting you for dinner, no sooner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope everything’s okay.” Tango was laying on Etho’s couch, one arm across his forehead like he was at a therapy session—which wasn’t far off from the actual situation.

“He’s probably fine,” Etho reassured him, stirring a cup of tea.

“I mean, yeah, he’s probably not dead or anything, but he seemed really freaked out that morning. About his family and stuff.”

Etho hummed. “You could always write him a letter.”

Tango scoffed. “And what, get a bird to deliver it?”

“Well I was going to deliver it for you, but not if you’re a jerk about it.”

Tango looked at Etho in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“Part-time job,” He explained, sipping his tea.

“You’d deliver it for me?” Tango asked, eyes wide.

Etho shrugged. “Sure.”

Tango leapt up from the couch, a newfound excitement covering his face. “Etho, you’re the best!”

“I know.”

Forgoing his usual snarky response to Etho’s comment, Tango threw himself out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye.

A knock came on Jimmy’s door, interrupting his reading of one of his favorite books. He had been trying to stay busy in the time that he wasn’t trying to find someone to talk to or forced to awkwardly sit at the dinner table, and he was partially succeeding. He still couldn’t get Tango off his mind, though, no matter how hard he tried.

He stood up to answer the door, mentally trying to predict who it would be. His parents were an unlikely choice: he would be called to them if they needed something. It also probably wasn’t one of the staff: they didn’t usually come around this time. That left … not many possibilities. When he opened the door, though, he was pleasantly surprised.

“Bdubs!” A smile broke out across his face as he opened the door wider, eager to finally see someone he actually talked to.

“Hey, Jimmy,” He replied. His smile was significantly smaller than Jimmy’s, but at least it was there. “How’re ya doing?”

“I—” Jimmy started, but then stopped himself. “Y’know, not gonna lie, I’m not doing too well.”

He shrugged. “That was kind of expected, but I thought I’d ask anyway. You’re handling this better than I thought.”

Jimmy collapsed against the doorframe, almost too dramatically for his taste. “Oh, Bdubs, you have to help me. I can’t stand being in here all day, knowing that he’s out there in the sunshine and I can’t be there with him—I just—” His sentence dissolved into groans not unlike that of an angry toddler.

Bdubs tilted his head at Jimmy. “There it is. That is why I saved this—” he pulled an envelope from one of his pockets, “—until now.” He held it out to Jimmy, who looked up at him quizzically before accepting.

“What’s this?” He started to inspect the envelope, pushing off the door frame to stand upright. His eyes widened when he turned it over. His name was written on the back of the envelope, preceded by one other word: Rancher.

He looked back at Bdubs, whose smile was now somewhat smug. “How did you get this?” “Well you see, our dear friend Etho managed to get the letter to me before the other staff picked it up, and I was able to sneak it up here,” he explained, puffing his chest out slightly.

Jimmy grabbed him and pulled him into a quick hug. “Thank you!”

Bdubs nodded before pulling away and walking back down the hallway.

The second after he left, Jimmy pulled his door shut and carefully ripped the envelope open, hurriedly unfolding the letter within.

Dear Jimmy,

I really hope that everything is okay. Seeing as you haven’t been back since that day, I’m going to assume that your parents grounded you, like you said they would. In that case, I hope they didn’t give you too hard of a time.

Double R and I are doing well, although we both miss you. I tried to remember how you taught me to make daisy crowns, but I unfortunately failed miserably, just like the first time.

I hope you’re doing well. I really do miss you. I understand that things are a bit weird right now, but I’ll wait for you however long you need, pinky promise.

Yours truly,

Tango

P.S. - Something to remember me by.

There was one more thing inside the envelope: a hair ribbon in a deep shade of red. He immediately recognized it as the one Tango wore almost daily.

Jimmy smiled, clutching the letter and his ribbon like they were Tango himself.

Tango was leaning against the wall of the barn, Double R by his side. It had been two days since Etho had delivered his letter to Jimmy and he still hadn’t gotten a response. The whole ordeal was slightly worrying to him, but he figured that panicking wouldn’t do much about the situation, which is why that is exactly what he did.

What if he hadn’t gotten the letter at all? What if he had gotten hurt? Or sick? What if his parents had forced him to move away and they would never see him again? What if a giant monster ate him?

A million equally unlikely scenarios were gnawing away at him by the minute, refusing to follow the logical conclusions. So, Tango sat against the barn wall in silence.

“You’re sure you can’t send one back?” Jimmy asked for what certainly could’ve been the hundredth time.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Bdubs repeated.

“Are you really sure?” “I’m as sure as I was the first few hundred times,” he deadpanned.

“But why?”

Bdubs sighed. “Like I have said multiple times, it’s a lot harder to sneak something out than in. Your family doesn’t send a lot of mail.”

“You can at least try though, right?”

“No—” Bdubs spun on him. “Jimmy, listen. He’s fine, alright? Calm down.” Jimmy buried his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” He exhaled in a fit of frustration. “I literally can’t think of anything other than seeing him again, but all I’m supposed to think about is that goddamn Ball.”

“Well why don’t you invite him to it, then?” Bdubs suggested offhandedly.

Jimmy paused. “How didn’t I think of that?” He looked over at Bdubs, who was immersed in his work. “Bdubs, you’re a genius.”

“Yes, I know, thank you. Why specifically?” “Do you know if we have any spare invitations?” Bdubs rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother hiding his slight smile.

Tango opened his door to see an envelope on the floor in front of it. It was, by his standards, an incredibly fancy envelope, but that wasn’t the focus of his attention. He was more focused on the family crest adorned on the light blue wax seal that held the envelope closed: that of the Solidaritys.

Tango picked up the envelope, carelessly breaking through the seal to get to its contents.

Inside was an invitation.

SUMMER’S BALL

Tango Tek,

On behalf of the Solidarity Family, you have cordially been invited to the annual Summer’s Ball, held at the Solidarity Manor in seven days’ time, on Friday the 3rd, June, at 10 pm.

Your attendance is appreciated.

It was fairly standard, although this was entirely based on assumption on Tango’s part. It was about as fancy as the envelope it had been contained in, although that wasn’t what he was focusing on. Instead, his eyes were locked on the flowing script across the bottom of the card, the one he recognized immediately. It was Jimmy’s handwriting, no doubt about it.

See you there?

-Your Rancher

Tango blinked. A combination of surprise, relief and excitement washed over him as he comprehended the words on this piece of paper, paying extra attention to the last four in particular.

As he did, he tipped the envelope, causing something to fall out of it, to the ground. Tango bent down to retrieve it, smiling once he realized what it was—a sky blue hair ribbon.

Jimmy was sitting next to his open window, which had been his only source of fresh air as of recently. He was wrapping and re-wrapping Tango’s ribbon around his finger, staring off into the distance.

He hoped Tango had gotten the invitation. He hoped he would show up.

Five days and counting until the Ball.

Tango had been sitting in front of his closet for practically every waking minute since he had received the envelope on his doorstep. If he thought picking out an outfit for their date had been hard, this was about twenty times harder.

Jimmy’s ribbon was wrapped around his ponytail.

Three days until the Ball.

Jimmy stared at the shining, deep crimson ribbon in his hands. One day left.

Tango was wringing his hands as he walked, clutching the invitation to the ball like his life depended on it. His eyes were flitting across the scene in front of him, taking in the landscaping and sloped roofs just the same. It was a rather nice night, with a cool breeze floating past Tango as he made his way up the path. The stars were out above him, shining down like minuscule spotlights on quite possibly the least important attendee of this Ball.

He was nearing the entrance now, light from the inside shining through the open door. There was someone standing by the door too, a butler, probably. Tango gave him a small smile as he started to walk inside, before he was stopped by the butler.

“Sir—“ He held his arm out in front of Tango. “Your invitation, please.”

“Oh!” Tango stepped back, embarrassment flooding his face, and held his invitation out to the man, his hand shaking slightly. “Sorry.”

He inspected the invitation for a few seconds, taking a couple short glances at Tango while doing so. One of his eyebrows was raised.

He looked back up at Tango and held his arm out towards the entrance. “Enjoy your night.”

Tango nodded quickly, tucking the invitation into his jacket pocket. “Thank you.” Then he took a deep inhale and stepped through the doorway.

The room in front of him was glowing with a warm white light, radiating from the crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling and reflecting off the cream painted walls. Granted, he had seen it before, while he was repairing the missing section of the manor, but not like this. It seemed like the room itself was dressed to the nines, was filled with people dressed in various colors, all radiating wealth. Tango suddenly became extremely self aware of the subpar quality of his jacket. It was ridiculous—him even being here—he could’ve never dreamed of it and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. In fact, he understood why Jimmy didn’t like it, this place seemed unbearable to Tango. At least he could see Jimmy again. That made it worth it.

“Tango!”

He spun around to see Jimmy pushing through the crowd towards him, and for a second, all of his doubt vanished.

“Jimmy! Hi!” Tango exclaimed. He pulled him into a short but tight hug before letting go. “You look amazing.”

He was wearing a cream colored jacket with delicate blue flowers embroidered along each of the sleeves. It complimented his eyes well.

Jimmy blushed. “Why, thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Tango laughed. “I’ve had this jacket for what, three years? Trust me, it’s seen better days.”

“I like the red,” Jimmy said. “It looks good on you. You look nice.” He smiled.

Tango smiled back. “Nowhere as good as you.”

His blush spread a little before he spun around. “What do you think about this?”

He was wearing the hair ribbon Tango had given to him. It seemed brighter in Jimmy’s hair.

“I love it,” Tango responded, beaming. “I like the wig, too. Makes you look esteemed.”

Jimmy spun back and stuck his tongue out at him. “It’s itchy.”

“That’s the price you gotta pay,” Tango shrugged. “Oh, and—“ He spun around too, letting Jimmy see the sky blue ribbon in his own hair. “I’m wearing yours, too!”

His smile grew even wider. “It looks amazing. Y’know, we’re kind of matching, in a way.”

“Like a matching set,” Tango agreed. “So, uh, what are we doing?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Wanna go get drinks?”

“Sure.” Tango held out his arm, which Jimmy accepted. “Where am I going?”

Jimmy pointed him in the direction of a table stacked with glasses of champagne, both of them grabbing one. They found a quiet spot to lean against the wall as they finished their glasses, finally catching up with each other again.

“How have you been?” Tango asked.

“A bit miserable,” Jimmy admitted.

“Yeah, me too. Double R misses you. I thought about bringing him with, but I don’t think he’d like being carried for that long,” he joked.

Jimmy chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think he’d be very happy with you.”

“No, he would not.” Tango drained the last drops of champagne from his glass. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

Jimmy looked at him. “Tango, I think I would literally be dying if you weren’t here. Thank you.”

Tango nodded. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

The band concluded the song they had been playing and began another. The new one was a much slower tempo, like a waltz.

“Hey,” Tango started. “Do you want to dance? I promise I won’t fall on you this time.”

A second’s worth of scattered emotions flashed through Jimmy’s brain before he smiled. “I would love to.”

Tango held his arm out to Jimmy again, setting his glass on a nearby table. Jimmy did the same, accepting Tango’s arm, and the two of them made their way into the middle of the room.

Jimmy’s hand slid down Tango’s arm and into his hand, lightly holding it as the pair spread out a little.

Tango was looking into Jimmy’s eyes, and Jimmy was looking into his. Then his eyes snapped to somewhere over Tango’s shoulder, instantly widening.

Tango turned, too, trying to spot whatever Jimmy seemed so concerned about, and spotted a pair whose presence seemed to command the room. They both looked immaculate and like they were horrible to be around, at least that’s what Tango thought.

“My parents,” Jimmy said, confirming Tango’s suspicions.

Tango looked back at him. “Are you okay?”

Still looking behind Tango, Jimmy took a deep breath, his face set. “Yeah.” He locked eyes with Tango. “Let’s dance.”

Jimmy grabbed one of Tango’s hands and set his other on Tango’s waist, Tango putting his free hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. They danced, just like that day in the barn, the one when Tango fell in love. They were spinning and swaying as the music floated through the air around them, carrying them through the waltz. As they did, Tango watched Jimmy’s face slowly soften and fade into a smile to match Tango’s.

It was an amazing ordeal, a perfect combination of grace and giddy excitement. It was glorious. Tango felt as if he’d never been alive before this moment, like this was the firs time he had actually experienced joy. He was filled to the brim with happiness and loving and care, so much so that he felt high on his own emotions. So, when the song stopped and they both paused, Tango almost didn’t know what to do.

His arms fell to his sides as he slowly stepped back, still holding one of Jimmy’s hands. He bent down, pulling Jimmy’s hand up to his lips, and pressed a long, hard kiss onto the back of it.

He stood, eyes shining with happiness. Jimmy looked back at him with pure joy.

“What a gentleman,” He joked. “You know what would be even more gentlemanly?”

Tango stepped closer. “What’s that?”

“If you kissed me for real.”

Tango grinned. “Well, I’m pleased to let you know that I can definitely help with that.”

Jimmy smirked back. “I was hoping you would.”

Under the spotlight of the chandelier, in a room full of people he didn’t know, Tango stepped forward and tenderly held Jimmy, bringing their lips together. They kissed. Warm and passionate and loving and full of care and trust, they kissed.

And even in that spotlight, surrounded by strangers, nothing else could’ve even dreamed of mattering. Tango was more comfortable he had ever been. This was where he was supposed to be. Nowhere else.

#writing #creative writing #double life #team rancher #solidaritek #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #mcytblraufest2024

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qingxin-dream · 2 years ago

Text

As the World Falls Down

a/n | this is partially inspired by one of my fav scenes in the 1986 movie labyrinth, i just really love the imagery and bowie’s song (literally the title haha). always got me daydreaming🥰 hope you enjoy!! (art credits: @/myu-chan on deviantart)

warnings | poisoning, suffocation, profanity, hallucinations, reader wears a dress, implied death, crying, vague references to scara lore, not really proofread it’s 1am

genre | angst, romance

word count | 2.6k

pairing | scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I found some mushrooms and berries,” you announced upon returning to camp, a hand-woven basket tucked into the nook of your elbow.

“Good. We can have fowl with it too,” stated your nonchalant traveling partner, the rogue Balladeer, who nods. His eyes were lost in the growing flames of the fire he was tending to, not caring to spare you a glance as you take seat next to him to sort through your basket.

An amusing thought crossed the puppet’s mind and past his lips with haste, “It’s not poisonous, is it?”

The crackling of the fire grew louder amid the absence of your answer, reaching up to the darkening sky in a flurry of hot ash. After flipping a log over in the campfire, Scaramouche begrudgingly looked over at you, annoyed and prepared to chew you out for ignoring him. “Hey, what are you—”

“Sc-Scara… c-can’t—” you struggled to put words together as suddenly a dense fog settled over your mind. Eyelids unbearably heavy and jaw becoming slack, your consciousness was fading rapidly.

“(Y/N)?” his voice nearly cracks out of surprise, lunging toward you to catch you as your limp body collided with the ground. A single purple mushroom tumbled away from your grasp when you collapsed, the mark of your teeth engraved on the cap of the little fungus.

Scaramouche tried to shake you out of your delirium to no avail. He cradles you closer in his arms, curses pouring over his lips in a panicked state, trying to find your pulse. “Fuck, fuck… idiot, how could you be so careless!”

His fingers against your dainty wrist did not feel a thing. You weakly rolled your head toward the frantic puppet, it seemed you were blissfully unaware of how the puppet was scrambling to save you. A glittery haze swirled ominously behind your eyes—you certainly weren’t lucid—almost as if you were admiring the man holding you tightly on your deathbed.

Grazing the back of his index finger along your neck, you were still warm to the touch. It wasn’t until Scaramouche placed an ear against your chest did he hear the faint thump of your heartbeat and feel the rise of your rib cage as you breathed slowly.

You were still alive, but who knows for how long? He cursed once more, scanning over your features frantically. You no longer fought against the wave of drowsiness crashing over you, eyelids beginning to close and the small smile disappearing from your lips.

“H-Hey! Are you listening? What the hell did you eat?” the puppet growled, lightly slapping your face awake. Your eyelashes fluttered momentarily, but it was evident you weren’t comprehending anything that was happening. “Where is it? Don’t you dare close your eyes, (Y/N), I swear.”

Scaramouche recklessly searched through your basket of foraged items, tossing aside every last godforsaken wild flower, mushroom, and berry you worked so hard to collect. Looking you over, a small sparkle caught his eye.

A violet little shroom, glimmering under the setting sun, sat half-eaten on a patch of dirt next to you. It sported a mesmerizing pattern, twisting and contorting into the strangest unrecognizable shapes. His eyes trailed them through and through, a deceptively beautiful tango that drew him closer and closer with promises of pleasure, but what lurks beneath the surface of such an alluring potion?

A comforting warmth spreads across the puppet’s cheek, snapping him from his thoughts. You were cupping his cheek, half-lidded irises glistening with the reflection of a faraway realm. Scaramouche blinked.

“Where did you go?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The echo of a grand piano was just within earshot, weaving a gentle melody so lovely your ears would happily weep if they could. A few string instruments join in, a sweet violin contrasted with a deeper cello sound, if only you could find them. Light laughter swirled about, amid the clink of wine glasses and romantic whispers.

Pulling the lavishly purple curtain back, you are faced with the extravagant ballroom packed with guests. Each of them exuded pristine elegance in their magnificent, jet-black suits adorned with freshly bloomed flowers. It was a sight to behold, truly, with their faces masked behind brilliantly intricate Fatui-esque designs, boasting tall feathers or shiny rhinestones.

As they led their beautiful partners draped in pastel ballroom dresses and the finest jewelry, something was familiar about them yet no one appeared to recognize you. Was it the soft white Cecilia clipped to the raven-haired musician plucking away at the harp? Or the exquisite Glaze Lily on the tall gentleman nearby whose ponytail faded to a golden caramel hue?

The ebb and flow of the dance pushed you to and fro, distracting you from your thoughts. It was difficult to weave through the crowd, you find it quite suffocating with no exit is in sight. Then, without warning, a small clearing was made as the guests silently danced around you and the lone man who stepped into your path.

His mask was unlike the others: an angelic shade of white that shimmered like gold under the chandelier, dotted with tiny diamonds beneath the eyes in the shape of a tear. Deep indigo locks of hair perfectly framed his face, and as your doe-like eyes took in his ethereal form you noticed his boutonnière was unique—a vibrant, wine-red dendrobium rested upon his breast pocket.

He lowered the mask, yet no one seemed to pay any mind as they swayed to the surrounding symphony. Your jaw dropped in shock, the act of revealing his identity like breaking a sacred oath. Twinkling lavender irises rested on you, drinking in your immaculate visage dolled up in an exquisite, lacy ball gown that rivaled the purest snow on Dragonspine.

You were utterly and completely awestruck, lips parted but words would never take form.

It was him—Scaramouche in the flesh.

He approached you, leaning in until he lingered but a few inches away. You swear by the Archons if someone had said he was ambrosia incarnate you would have believed them without question. It was intoxicating, the way he made your cheeks burn with warmth and searched your eyes endlessly as if it were truly the window to your soul.

His hands delicately brushed against your waist, moving to guide you into the rhythm of the crowd. Your arms wrap around his neck, just as lost in him as he was within you. The mesmerizing serenade of the orchestra drowned out any banter around you, and you felt safe in his hold.

Your voice softly broke through to him, “Who are you?”

An amused hum escapes his lips. Scaramouche gazed at you with adoration, pulling you closer against his torso like he never wanted to let you go. His husky voice answered into your ear, “Who do you think I am?”

You bit your lip. Part of you had secretly dreamed of Scaramouche returning your feelings one day. All of this felt too good to be true. Was this reality? Would he embrace you like this? Would he—

“(Y/N),” he quietly chastised, seeing you lost in thought. Strands of violet hair tickled your face when his nose brushed yours, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his lips that were so close to meeting your own. You could hear his breath hitch, a tint of pink dusting his cheeks. “Tell me what you think of me.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” you nervously replied, averting your eyes as the butterflies in your stomach began to become unbearable under the weight of his affectionate and alluring gaze. “And why does it matter? You never cared about what other’s think anyway.”

“You are correct, but… you aren’t like the others, now are you?” Scaramouche smirked, a glint of mischief flickering across his features before pulling away to twirl you around.

As you returned to him, dress flourishing in tandem, you flash him a sly smile. “Well, if you must know, I do think of you fondly when you are away.”

“And what of when you are here with me?” he teased, joining the two of you at the hip again. He could practically hear his heart pounding, desperate to leap out of his chest. Scaramouche tucks a loose tuft of hair behind your ear, whispering into it once more, “You are in the presence of a god, after all. It only takes three words and I am yours.”

An insatiable rush of heat flusters your face at such a proposition. Your hand cupped his cheek and you caressed it with your thumb, committing his every perfect curve and edge to memory, as if confirming he was real and not made of paper mâché. He leans into your touch lovingly, a prince hopelessly enamored by this chance encounter.

This was really Scaramouche, and he wanted you. He chose you. In what world would you possibly deny him?

The sweet sound of the string quartet marked the end of the musical piece, drawing your attention as the crowd fell to a low hush awaiting the beginning of the next song.

When you turned to answer him, he disappeared. You flicked your head around, searching the ballroom for his face, his mask, his unusual violet hair, anything that resembled his unmistakable aura—but ultimately found naught. The guests spared disapproving looks at you through their masks, though you couldn’t discern if it was pitiful or mocking.

Your adrenaline began to kick in, not caring to push through the crowd just for the opportunity to catch a fleeting glimpse of Scaramouche’s beautiful mask. The orchestra began to play faster, heightening your sense of anxiety as guests moved in tune and nearly fought against you.

Was it something you said? Was he no longer satisfied with you? Were you just a plaything to him and nothing more?

Finally, you broke through the edge of the crowd and found yourself face-to-face with a distorted mirror of the room. Your reflection curved and blurred as if the ballroom itself was contained in an iridescent bubble. You were wrong. So horribly wrong.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the electrifying stare of Scaramouche watching you from the outskirts of the crowd. Your skin crawled with goosebumps once you noticed he was sauntering toward you, mask covering his expression.

You had to find a way out of this nightmare. Grabbing a chair from a nearby table, you held it above you, prepared to burst out of this false dream.

Suddenly a firm hand gripped your wrist painfully tight and yanked you away from the mirror, causing you to fall backwards into the perpetrator. Scaramouche growled in anger through his teeth, “I won’t let you do this. You can’t abandon me!”

“You lied to me!” Wriggling under him, you attempted to pull away with the chair but he was too strong. He ripped the chair out of your hands, toppling you over on the floor helplessly. You scrambled to stand up, carelessly tearing through the frills of your dress with your heels.

Scaramouche threw the chair aside and reached for your arm again, this time pleading with you, tears pricking his pretty red-lined eyes. “(Y/N), please. I’ve turned this world upside down and I’ve done it all for you. Stay here with me. Devote yourself to me. It’s all I ask.”

You hesitate at the sound of desperation evident in his voice, looking back at him one more time. He had lost his ephemeral sheen, hair tousled and scattered messily across his pale face. He was hanging on to your every word, hoping you would reconsider an eternity in paradise with him. It hurt to see how sad of a state he was reduced to, begging you to be with him.

He was right. This was everything you wanted—an endless night in his arms as lovers, but this was not how it was meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you hoarsely choked back tears, smashing the mirror into a million pieces.

Infinitely small shards reflected the horrified look of betrayal on Scaramouche’s face as the dream was lost to space.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You woke to the sound of crickets and a crackling fire. A cool, wet rag sat on your forehead, contrasting the warmth of the campfire and causing you to scrunch your nose as you stirred. Your heart raced when you were squeezed by the shoulders into someone’s chest, wet drops falling on you.

“Hm?” you mumbled against the fabric of their clothes, resting your hand against the left side of their chest. After a moment, you realized this person lacked a heartbeat. Your eyes shot open. “Scara… mouche?”

Your eyes took a moment to adjust, eventually focusing on the man who was cradling you close and gently rocking you back and forth. His divine features were contorted into despair, eyelashes speckled with the glistening residue of his tears. You spoke up again, “Scaramouche, what happened?”

“I thought you fucking died, that’s what happened.”

Oh. Your memory proved to be fuzzy—you remembered foraging for dinner, picking all kinds of edible berries and mushrooms. You remember returning to camp, but trying to think of anything beyond that worsened your headache. Were you attacked?

“How long have I been out?” you asked apprehensively.

Scaramouche swallowed thickly, hollow eyes wandering up your form to meet yours. It was gut-wrenching, he was never this vulnerable—this exposed—with you. “Six hours.”

He told himself he would never allow foolish mortal feelings to defile his heart again long ago, but you had gotten under his skin more than he realized. You sunk your claws into his heart so easily, so readily, and he was complacent in it. Maybe part of him wanted to believe it would be different despite his deep-rooted cynicism.

When you passed out cold and lifeless, you might as well have gored his heart right out of his fragile puppet body.

Scaramouche wanted you to, for all of the self-hatred, regret, love, and mourning he felt over you eating a stupid purple mushroom.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered shamefully, gripping his robe in your fist. You really fucked up this time. Had he held you the whole time, wishing you would come to or saying his goodbyes? The thought welled hot tears in your eyes.

He gave you a bewildered look, appalled by your pathetic apology. “I should kill you.”

“I would understand.”

The puppet had enough. After suffering in the depths of darkness and despondency for hours thinking you had succumbed to your mortality, Scaramouche could bear it no longer. You were alive, your heart was beating, and you were breathing—you were in his grasp once more and he wouldn’t dare waste this newfound chance with you.

“To hell with it,” he swore with a hasty whisper ghosting your pink lips, cupping your cheek softly, taking in how beautiful you looked in the moonlight even as you laid ill. “I love you, (Y/N), and don’t you dare do this to me again.”

Scaramouche brushed his chapped lips, salty with the remnants of his tears, against yours, relishing in the sensation of how plush and warm you felt. He rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone and down your jaw delicately like you could break underneath him at any moment. His hand trembled slightly on your skin, prompting you to hold his palm to your face to quell his fears.

When you moved your lips and pressed further into him, reaching up to lace your fingers in his hair, he swiped his tongue to ask permission before deepening the kiss. You tenderly smiled, greeting his tongue with your own. Scaramouche treated you with the utmost reverence, dedicating himself to tasting every saccharine drop you would offer.

He poured his heart into you until you were desperate for air and had to break away, much to his dismay. You were more than addicting. Indulging in you was beyond euphoric, to feel complete and whole at last was indescribable.

Recovering your breath, you huffed out a contented laugh and sealed your fate with one more peck on his lips. “I love you too.”

For the first time in hundreds of years, the puppet genuinely smiled, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“So… what did you dream of after you ate that mushroom?”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

#[opulent dreams].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact fatui #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader

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