Fiddleford sat behind the bar counter nursing his drink, watching the silhouetted couples dance under the disco ball. He really liked this song, he thought disheartenedly as he tipped the glass back and drained it, shuddering at the cheap whiskey. He hadn't come here to drink, if he wanted
that he would have spent the evening in his dorm with the freshly-brewed whiskey his father had proudly sent him for Christmas. As he ordered another round he lost some of the false hope he had carried in to this establishment. Stanford wasn't coming.
He had dolled himself up in his favorite disco suit and put on enough glitter to make him glow here in his dark corner for nothing. He should have expected as much from him he supposed.
Ford was a very "personal" person and spending the night with him in a disco bar that the entire gay community usually swarmed around was not the way he would want to spend New Year's, but for once, just once, Fiddleford didn't want to hide their relationship behind their bedroom
door. He wanted one night where he could lose his fears of being cast away by the world and their families for daring to love each other and just have the chance to try and dance with the person he loved most and keep a straight face every time Ford stepped on his feet or their heads
bashed together. Just one night to be a normal couple who didn't have to lie or pull the curtains tight and bite their lips to be as silent as possible while they made love.
Ford had been apprehensive of his plan when he told it to him last week and laid down every fear he had locked in his head if they were discovered together. Last evening, after days of begging and reminding him this could be their final New Years together if all did go according to plan
and Ford graduated in the summer, he finally relented, but only after he got his extracurriculars done. At the time, Fiddleford had been so excited as he threw himself in Ford's arms thanking him that he didn't stop to consider that it was an excuse in the making if he couldn't muster up
the nerve at the last second. There was only an hour left of 1975 and there was no sign of Ford, who should have been here at nine.
Just as he set his money on the bar and was filled with enough liquid courage to ask one of the fellow loners at the other end to dance with him until the New Year arrived, he saw him. High up on the stairway loitering by the entrance was Stanford Pines. His heart lit up, brighter than the
lights on the dance floor he ran across, slurring out apology after apology as he shoved past people dead-set on asking him for a dance. Or no, his drunken mind reasoned, he should lecture him on keeping him waiting beforehand. Or-
His racing thoughts crashed and burned as he tripped over his own feet on the last step. Before gravity could introduce him to the ground, someone caught hold of him and he stared star-struck as ever into those brown eyes he loved so much.
"Fidds," he whispered or maybe yelled over the music and noise, Fidds was a little too drunk to tell and maybe just wanted it to be a loving whisper.
"I think you went a little overboard on the glitter," he said with an incredulous expression as Fidds glanced at those six fingers he thought were so beautiful that were now shimmering at the brief contact with his body.
"And yer late," Fidds stated, crossing his arms and staring Ford down with fake anger he didn't feel. He had never in his life felt so relieved to see someone but he was a tad drunk and he wanted to see his boyfriend squirm for keeping him waiting.
"Well, some of the equations were more difficult than I expected them to be. I-"
Fidds didn't let him finish his excuses as he grabbed tightly onto each side of his sweater vest (that he couldn't believe he was wearing, what happened to the disco suit he bought him for Christmas?) and pulled him into a passionate kiss that Ford thankfully didn't object to and even
helped deepen it.
For the first time, Fiddleford felt like he wasn't something Ford hid deeply in his closet behind his insecurities and fears but rather something he cherished and was proud to be in love with as Ford invited him to dance with him. It wasn't pretty, as predicted Fidds' feet became targets to
Ford's two left feet and the alcohol streaming through him didn't help. The couple next to them didn't appreciate it when Ford ended up tripping the both of them on top of each other during a slow number, but maybe it wasn't just the alcohol talking when Fiddleford swore that this was the best night of the year before and the perfect way to bring in the new one.