Author's Note: Hiya! This is just a random Luck/Firo one-shot I wrote, but if you're a fan of Baccano!, you should come check out my fansite: .com/ Pretty please?
Disclaimer: I do not own Baccano! or any of the awesome characters, etc etc.
All Around [Me]
Firo stared at himself in the mirror. This tuxedo was incredibly uncomfortable, but he reminded himself it would be rude to show up in anything other than a tux. Sighing, he pulled at his green tie, loosening it a little bit. The shade of green matched his hat exactly. Well, it should, considering he'd ordered the tie custom-made for that very purpose.
He sighed again, adjusting his hat a little. Luck had always hated this hat. And Firo supposed maybe turning his hat immortal was a little much. But he loved it too much, and, just like with Luck, he didn't want to let it go.
Firo was not good at making choices. Oh, with decisions he was great, but choices were a completely different thing. So he could not bring himself to choose between the two things he loved most in the world.
Glancing at his watch, he sighed yet again. He'd been putting it off too long, and now he was a half-hour late. Not only would Luck be wondering where he was, but he'd also be annoyed.
He took one last look in the mirror, disliking what he saw, and trudged out into the hall and down the stairs to the ballroom. There was no good excuse to stay in his hotel room any longer. It wasn't even that appealing, anyway.
Firo's feet seemed to move for him, and before he knew it, he was standing next to Ennis, talking to Isaac and Miria. He smiled. Last time he'd seen them, they were hippies. He decided that celebrating their 80th year as immortals wasn't such a bad thing. It served as a reunion of sorts, even if some of the attendees had been immortal for much longer.
Seeing the familiar head of golden hair, Firo excused himself and headed over to receive his scolding. On the way, he took the liberty to observe his surroundings. Whoever had organized the ballroom had certainly gone all out. The tablecloths were a pearly white silk, and the centrepieces were crystal vases with elaborate bouquets. Dark red curtains hung from the ceiling and walls, adorned with white ribbons that matched the tables.
His admiration was cut short, however, by a hand on his shoulder. Firo turned to see a stern Luck Gandor holding a near empty wine glass.
"Hi Luck!" he greeted nervously, a smile tugging at his lips.
"I see you've still got the hat," Luck replied coolly, and raised the glass to his lips.
Firo sighed. This was going to go just as well as the last time. He opened his mouth to make a comment, at which point whoever was in charge of the music decided to play a waltz. Very loudly.
On a stroke of inspiration, Firo held his hand out to Luck, the gesture to ask for a dance. Luck, finished with his wine, raised an eyebrow, but accepted Firo's hand, placing his empty crystal glass on a nearby table. For once in his life, Luck let someone else take the lead, assuming the position girls usually did. Firo smiled, charming as usual, and managed to look more adorable than everyone else in the room. Luck closed his eyes. Maybe that would help.
But, naturally, it didn't. Instead, Luck was hyper-aware of every place Firo's body had contact with his. Where their skin touched, his nerves were on fire, dancing with pleasure and excitement. Luck decided he was better off looking at Firo's adorable face, so he opened his eyes, to find Firo observing him solemnly.
As they took yet another turn around the room, Luck became aware of what dance they were performing and looked down in surprise. This was the dance he'd taught Firo at his sixteenth birthday. Smiling, he looked back up to meet Firo's gaze.
Luck had an idea, and acting on pure instinct, which generally wasn't a wise thing for him to do, he took the lead from Firo, and resumed turning them about the room. But when they approached the archway to the reception area, he directed Firo that way, and eventually into an empty room.
And so they stood facing each other in the deserted, dimly lit ballroom. Luck's fingers brushed against Firo's, and where they touched, he felt electrified. He wanted to hold Firo close, and tell him never to leave again...
"Luck." The tone of Firo's voice made him wary. It was too serious, and resigned. Not enough like the playful, light-hearted Firo.
...
Firo played with his hat uneasily, waiting for Luck to respond. But Luck didn't do much of anything; he just stood there staring.
Finally, after a few awkward minutes, he repeated, "You want to get rid of your hat?"
Firo nodded. "I know how much you hate it, so I figure if I let you take it and do what you want with it, then we'll work out."
Luck sighed, and moved closer so he could take Firo's hand in his. He used his other hand to take the hat from Firo and place it back on his head. The he pulled him closer until they were barely an inch apart. "I love you, Firo. The hat doesn't matter to me. But you're not you without it."
Firo blushed slightly, from Luck's words and his proximity.
"I love you too, Luck," he whispered.
Luck smiled. "Good. Then you'll have no objection to my demand." Firo looked at him cautiously, and sucked in a nervous breath, causing Luck to let out a little chuckle. "Don't ever leave again."
Firo relaxed, and grinned at him. "Finally, a demand I can comply with."
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