Warning: there's a few naughty words and sexual references in this one. No one drops the f-bomb or unzips their flies, don't worry. It's mostly just mentioned fleetingly. Just thought to warn you!
Officer Joseph Durante was pleased to say that he didn't get drunk. Ever.
He wasn't sure why. Perhaps his giant build, standing above most of the others at this work party. Perhaps his body was just built against it, or the alcohol went straight through him so quickly it might as well not have drunk at all.
Regardless of the whys, he had since had a lingering dislike for drunken fools. Such as the guards in front of him, stripping off their jackets, attempting to break dance on the staff canteen floor.
His cast a cursory glance over the flimsy decorations. Balloons had glued themselves to the ceiling like thick clouds. Their strings dangled onto most of the guard's shoulders, and entertained the shorter maids when they tried to reach for them. Neon streamers had also been tacked to the walls, the lights were dim, and some of the canteen benches had been moved in favour of a crude dance floor.
For the break dancing.
Which was more a show of laughs than skill.
Officer O'Hannagain's body twisted on the floor, flinging his arms left and right. Besides him, Officer Tweaks accepted it as challenge, mirroring the unpractised and sluggish movements. And Durante, right on the cusp of the crowd of staff, their uniforms traded for smart-casual wear, chanting encouragement and boos into the flow of the electronic music.
Durante hadn't intended to get a front row seat, but the crowd had parted around him, and now he, unfortunately, was seeing things he didn't want to see.
Clutching his beer, Durante attempted to slip out of the crowd, and to the canteen benches. Easier done than said, for one; his bulging frame seemed to make anyone cower, and so people stepped out his way without fuss.
The air was stale, but better than the scent of O'Hannagain and Tweaks' sweat. Resisting the urge to unbutton his red shirt, Durante found an empty bench several tables away from the makeshift bar – or, as he saw it, a glorified coffee table at a house party. At least the beer was free, though they were being claimed fast.
"Jo!"
Durante's attention yanked to his right somewhere – Officer Naomi Astrauskas elbowed her way through a clique of butlers punching the air. Her short height didn't deter her, glaring at anyone who tried to stand on her toes, and she raked a hand through her short, pixie-cut black hair once released from the mass.
Despite having to look up to him, she still grinned with challenge. "Found you, finally. Someone who I know won't barf on me." Her grin widened. "Did you see those dumb bastards? O'Hannagain and Tweaks? They're having another damn break-dancing contest."
Her Australian twang was nearly indistinguishable under the music. He chuckled. "Not hard to miss them. Even though I did, very much, want to miss them."
Naomi clapped him on the back – her force was enough for him to wince. Tough as any officer in the guard. "That's enough to scar anyone for life, that is." Her laugh boomed. "Goddamn. Do you think Delacroix would fire them if he saw? I sure as hell would."
Durante snorted. "Delacroix doesn't give a shit. As long as we turn up to shift on time."
It was Naomi's turn to snort. "Fair point." She nudged him in the arm and gestured to the bar bench. "I'm grabbing a beer. You want another?"
"Eh," he said, glancing at his bottle. It was hardly halfway. "Nah. I'm okay for now."
Naomi shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I sure as hell ain't staying sober tonight."
She walked off to the bar, fiddling with the bottle opener for her beer.
Durante smiled to herself. Naomi was one of the few guards who wasn't jammed so far up her own ass. Sure, she was blunt and crude, but it was minor compared to the others. Humility was rare in the force, especially with the likes of dunces O'Hannagain, Tweaks, or Ramirez or Acketeer, who thought so highly of themselves they thought they could hail snowstorms or conjure fire.
Suddenly disinterested in the party, Durante glanced at the entrance.
Over the bobbing heads of other guests, the door opened, and in stepped—
Durante's heart nearly exploded from his chest.
Oh god. Rudy was here. Rudy.
And he looked hot as hell.
He'd somehow managed to make wearing a suit look effortless, despite, no doubt, how much he'd preened himself. His red ponytail was neatly combed back – not unusual for him, as this was his regular hairstyle – and yet it seemed as smooth as silk. His suit curved to him, a simple dark grey, but it accentuated his lithe figure, and stood out amongst the black garb of the other staff. His cool, unimpressed glance swept over the room like that of a celebrity, surveying his mass of fans.
Durante's brain worked into overdrive. Stop staring, you moron. He gulped his beer, trying to cool down. Why was Rudy here? Rudy'd said he wasn't particularly interested in going, and that he had a shift with Prince Roy.
But who cared? Now Rudy was here. Here.
Durante had been totally unprepared for this. If he had known Rudy would show up, he'd have collected his feelings. Psyched himself up. Maybe sprayed his cologne a few more times.
Rudy lingered by the entrance, his hands shoved into his jacket pocket. Still so cool, so nonchalant. He raised his shoulders, his eyes scanning.
A thump on Durante's back drew his attention back to Naomi again, who had the beer nozzle shoved into her mouth.
"Have you seen Ursa? Or Pendleton?" Her teeth chattered against the glass as she spoke. "Those douchebags still owe me a money, and I want to see if I can con it out of them when they're drunk."
"What—? Oh, er, no," said Durante. Now he was entirely distracted, and he was suddenly aware of how much sweat was running down the back of his neck. God, he hoped Rudy didn't see him like this.
"Ah, they'll show up. I—" she straightened, eyes widening, her gaze peeling to elsewhere. "Yo. He's here. Rudy's here."
Durante clenched his jaw. Naomi didn't give him the chance to reply – her gaze lifted to him, and a knowing smile blistered from her face like heating popcorn.
"Oh, but you already know that, don't you?" She nudged him, and her eyebrows wiggled in that obnoxious, mocking way. "Your Ru-dar is blaring."
"Shut up," Durante snapped, but he couldn't stop the stupid blush rising onto his cheeks.
"Hey, I'm just saying. If you both get wasted tonight, maybe you'll wake up tomorrow morning tangled in the bedsheets with him." He squished her cheeks together. "Oh, Rudy, you hot stallion, let me recite you poetry before I carry you into my bedroom, where I will gently caress—"
Heat seized Durante in every part of his body. "Shut up—!"
A tap on Durante's shoulders.
Durante swivelled around.
Rudy was scowling, which, Durante had quickly learnt, was his default expression and not a personal attack, and there was some sort of drink in his hand. Similar in its amber colour to beer, but not. A nutty flavour trickled through to Durante's nose, along with the soft scent of cedar wood cologne.
Dammit. Rudy smelt nice as well as looked nice, too. His heart did a stupid patter, and he fought the rising blush to his cheeks.
"Have you both destroyed your livers yet?" Rudy said, by way of greeting.
Thank god, he hadn't heard Naomi.
Her smug grin didn't float away, and she gave Durante the look – she knew all of his inner crush troubles. Luckily, she didn't comment, and instead stuck out her tongue at Rudy.
"You wish. What's up, Reindeer?"
Unfettered, Rudy shot back, "Nothing much, Ass-trauskas."
Nicknames blessed by the other guards, as was customary of all the staff working here.
"Thought you were working shift this evening?" Naomi ventured, chugging some beer.
Rudy sipped his beverage, sticking out his pinkie finger. He must have decided he liked it, as he took another. "His Highness has gone out clubbing this evening. On the sly, of course." He shrugged. "I figured I may as well come down here and see why he praises the party scene so highly."
Durante had guarded Prince Roy's door a few times – and more than a few times had Roy snuck out, placing a finger to his lips, and slipped away into the night in an elusive jeans and hoodie. Incognito. For a kid at nineteen years-old, Durante had to wonder about the future state of their country.
Naomi clenched her teeth over the bottle nozzle. "The prince's just as bad as those assclowns." She jerked her thumb towards the crowd, who had slowly dissipated. It hadn't stop O'Hannagain and Tweaks though, now having a twerking contest.
"You don't want to join them, Joseph?" asked Rudy, with a glimmer in his eye.
Durante's heart flipped – as it did every time Rudy said his name. It felt so intimate, almost, like a shared dance in the moonlight.
He cleared his throat. Focus on the question. The question.
"Can't dance," he choked out eventually.
Naomi raised a manicured eyebrow, grinning smugly. Can't dance? her eyes seemed to say, crinkling. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't a truth, and it certainly hadn't been an ideal answer. He was going to get an earful of laughs later.
Rudy chuckled – it was a low, dangerous sound – and sipped his drink once more. "My apologies. I tend to box all of you guard folk into one."
"That's a lousy stereotype, Reindeer," Naomi chanted. "Guess that means you must enjoy wiping Prince Roy's ass?"
Rudy spluttered out his drink – and Naomi howled with laughter. Durante had to laugh at the same time as he winced, and he was sure it was the most unattractive face he'd ever pulled. Like the break dancing, that was something he didn't want to see.
Rudy was far too distracted to notice, thankfully.
"I don't wipe his buttocks, I'll have you know," Rudy said, after he collected himself. "I do have to handle his… washing, however. Dear lord, if I have to touch another pair of used undergarments…"
Naomi snickered, and Durante, too, laughed. He didn't blame Rudy for complaining whatsoever. And he was secretly pleased, at least, that he could act as an outlet for Rudy's emotions.
"Yeah, I'll just stick to the princess' door, thanks," said Naomi – her eyes pinned to Durante again, and she gestured to Rudy with them.
Durante clicked. She was going to leave them alone.
His gut writhed, and he was half-tempted to grab her arm to stop her. No. He couldn't handle speaking to Rudy alone. Conversations just ended with Durante being an absolute mess of flustered blushes or stammered mumbles. Or both. Or neither, where he was too worked up to say anything at all.
"Ah," Naomi said with no enthusiasm. She pointed at a random bundle of dancing maids. "I think Ursa and Pendleton went that way." She mocked a salute, her gaze pressing into Durante – as if to say, go on, you idiot. "I'll see you later on."
She whisked herself away before either of them could argue.
And Durante was left alone with Rudy.
His heart still beat in time with the music, but he was sure it sped twice as fast than before.
Stupid, treacherous thing, he scolded to himself.
But his heart continued to thunder, as if it could burst from his chest.
Rudy snorted. "Well. Goodbye to you, too." He drank his beverage with more keenness this time, and raised an eyebrow. "Are you intending to lose yourself to drink this evening?"
Standing seemed more difficult, and it wasn't because of the alcohol.
"No. I can't get drunk," Durante rattled.
"I wouldn't have minded either way. At least you don't have any hair to hold as you unravel yourself over the toilet bowl."
"Do you?" Durante forced out.
Rudy cocked an eyebrow. "Have… hair…?"
Stupid, stupid, admonished Durante's brain.
"Not about the hair. I can see you have hair," he jabbered. "I mean, about, er, getting drunk. Do you plan to get drunk?"
The valet shrugged. "No, I don't." He brandished his plastic cup. "Having said that, this is quite delicious for alcohol."
"What is it?"
"Almond liqueur." He held up the glass. "Would you like to try some?"
Surprise coursed through him. Rudy was willing to… share drinks?
Too dumbfounded for a real sentence, Durante blabbered, "I— er—"
Rudy snatched his hand back. "Ah, sorry. That just came out. Never mind." He yanked at his shirt collar. "So… do you have an idiotic nickname?"
The world seemed to freeze around Durante, and he instinctively clenched his beer bottle. Wished he was slightly tipsy so he could breeze through this conversation now. Couldn't they go back to the drink-sharing?
"Yeah," he muttered. "I do."
"It can't be worse than Reindeer," said Rudy, laughing suddenly – nervously? "What is it?"
Durante gulped, and this time, he couldn't rein in the blossom of red all over his body.
"… Big D."
Rudy's eyes widened too, and his cheeks bloomed as fast as a rushing water from a broken dam. Immediately, he looked away.
"Ah."
It warmed Durante to see him embarrassed. Blushing Rudy was… kind of adorable.
It seemed the nickname was as much of a compliment as it was a curse. But, Durante reasoned, at least it suggested something positive about himself...?
"That is… quite the nickname," Rudy said, breaking into a laugh. "I suppose there are worse things than Reindeer."
Durante's mind drew a blank. "It's from my name. Durante. Big D," he blurted. "The other guards joke it's from the other thing."
He realised what he'd said.
Why. Why?!
The urge to smack his head against the wall was overpowering.
"But, er," Durante powered through, no end in sight. "But they're just assuming. And stuff. It's from my name. Durante."
Somehow, he figured he'd just made everything worse. Like trying to wash a dirty plate with shit.
Rudy didn't meet his eye, staring at the floor. "Well. You know what they say." His voice jumped up and down. "To assume makes an ass out of you and me."
Durante's laugh sounded more like a giggle from a tiny girl, it was so high-pitched. "Yep," he said quickly, hoping to cover his blunder.
Not that much could cover that at this point.
Rudy coughed. "Excuse me," he said, still not meeting Durante's eye. "I'm going to refresh my drink."
When Rudy stepped away, melting into the crowd, Durante let out a long, exasperated breath. He placed the beer bottle against his forehead. It was cool, and a chill danced across his skin.
I am an idiot.
He could imagine Naomi cackling if he told her the brief conversation.
He'd screwed up. So badly.
Why did he act like such a moron in front of his crush? Why was talking to Rudy any different from talking to Naomi, or the other guards? Why couldn't he be normal, or even the slightest bit desirable?
Rudy, as it turned out, was pulled into a group of dancing butlers, so Durante was left alone. Chewing on his thoughts, he dived into the crowd to find a group of friends. Anyone, to help yank his thoughts away.
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As suspected, Naomi had laughed her ass off when Durante told her.
She slapped her thighs and cried with laughter, howling so much it was a wonder she didn't summon a pack of wolves. The drink had gone to her head, now, and it was showing in her total disregard for how many people she nearly whacked unconscious with her wayward arms.
"Oh my god, you dumbass!" she breathed between her tears. "I can't believe you said that!"
Durante worked his jaw. He could hardly hear her over the music, loud and pounding. An hour since the awkward conversation, and the party was still going strong.
"It just— it just came out, okay?" Durante said, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know why I said it!"
"Like hell you didn't!" Her eyebrows were tossed up and down on her pale forehead, which sparkled with sweat and oil. "Bet you wanted him to know all about the size of your ginormous—"
"Hey, Big D!"
Durante flinched at the nearness of the voice, and turned – Officer O'Hannagain was standing too close to comfort, but his irises were engulfing. The alcohol was pile-driving through his system, too.
O'Han punched Durante's shoulder. "Hey, yo, Big D, my man!" he said, slurred. "I challenge you to a dance off!"
"I'm not drunk enough for that," Durante said, mocking in his tone. "And I'd kick your ass."
"You can try, you fat lug," O'Han taunted. He waved vaguely at Naomi. "Fine. Ass-crust, you wanna' go?"
Naomi darkened as if she repelled all the light in room. She shoved her drink into Durante's hand. "Bring it, Leprechaun Shit."
The crowd parted to clear an area, and Durante drifted back with the dancers like a kite caught in the wind. Luckily, he was tall enough to get a great view, no matter how far back he stood. Naomi's dancing was terrible, just like O'Han's, but the crowd roared and egged them on, crying their cheers as loud as the music.
Durante staggered out of the crowd, nearly tripping on several tiny butlers and maids, and helped himself to Naomi's beer. Not like she would be sober enough to remember she gave it to him, anyway.
A tug on his sleeve, and Durante was forcefully whirled around.
Rudy. Again.
Durante nearly lost his nerve, but he studied Rudy's face – flushed like permanent humiliation, relaxed and eased into a grin, and his eyes were huge and dreamy.
Drunk.
He snorted. "Big D."
Durante begged his heart to stop inciting a fire within him. "Er… Reindeer," he said.
Rudy's smirk was nearly evil in terms of scariness. "I've always hated that nickname, you know." He continued tugging on Durante's sleeve. "Big D is waaaaay better."
"That's debatable," Durante said.
"No, it's not," said Rudy. "It's like a backward compliment. I guess. No – it is a compliment." His head lolled up to face Durante. "Not like Reindeer. No hope at saving that big pile of bull faeces."
Durante clamped his mouth shut, a rush of heat filling each pore of his body. Rudy had tossed his words so casually, too, but Durante latched onto it, unable to shoo the thought away. Rudy still clung to his sleeve, too, and his arm burnt hot.
He swallowed a lump of saliva that had collected in his mouth and tried to keep his eyes trained on Rudy's face, not his own arms. "Do you, er," he mumbled, "need something?"
"Do you have to get tailored suits?"
Durante blinked for a moment, but it didn't help to process the story. "I'm sorry – what?"
Rudy gently tugged at the sleeve again, swigging his almond liqueur with the other hand. "I mean, you're a bulky, tall guy. Do you have to get extra extra extra large clothes? Or do you get someone to" – he waved his hands in circular motions. The drink sloshed against the cup – "knit it all for you?"
Baffled, Durante tensed his shoulders. "I, er— no. I just get the biggest sizes and hope for the best."
Rudy let go, his eyes as wider as saucers suddenly. "Whoa. Didn't meant to imply anything about your weight. Sorry. That came out wrong. You're obviously not overweight, or anything. It's probably all muscle." He snorted, and it soon turned into a giggle. "God, I can't talk right now."
"I— er…" Still dumbfounded, with blood smashing in his ears, Durante leant down slightly to Rudy's height. "Are you… okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine. I'm great!" He splayed his arms suddenly, spinning on the spot. "I'm just fine. I'm living on cloud nine. That was a rhyme." He snorted, slapping his hand over his nose.
So this… was wasted Rudy? Durante's heart dabbled in affection once more, and he found himself warming to this unseen side of Rudy. Stupid, cynical cute.
Rudy made a finger gun. "I'm going to drink more. Because I can. No one can tell me what to do."
He stumbled, but tripped over Durante's feet, and collapsed onto the floor.
Durante gasped, kneeling down. "Oh, shit. Are you okay?"
But giggles burst from Rudy, and he rolled over to his front. "You should have asked, how was your trip?"
"Pffft. Jesus Christ, Rudy," Durante said, laughing despite the nerves brewing within him. "You're a goddamn mess."
"No!" Rudy cried out. "I am a perfect!"
"… A perfect what?"
"That's it. A perfect." He smirked. "I don't even need a noun to describe my sheer amazingness."
Durante tried not to lean too close, but he offered a hand. "Come on. Stand up."
"I refuse," Rudy said.
As if to prove his point, he laid his palms flat against the floor.
"Rudy," Durante said, taking on a stern tone. "You are lying on the floor of the cafeteria. Think about all the bodily fluids congealing beneath you right now. Think of the O'Han and Tweaks' nasty sweat—"
Rudy shot up to his feet, yelping, but he only buckled over his own feet and fell back to his knees. Butt facing up, his face squashed against the floor, Rudy started to laugh uncontrollably again.
"God. Why is standing so hard?"
Durante squashed another laugh and helped Rudy to his feet. "It's not," he said. "You're just too drunk to function right now."
"Well, thank you, Officer Durante for that stunning observation," said Rudy, slurring his words. "But I think I will now saunter with extreme precision to the fuel station, in which to further refresh my beverage."
Durante frowned. "You can barely walk."
"I would call it exaggerated striding."
"I would call it stumbling until you hit your head against something and pass out." Durante loosened his grip, allowing Rudy to stand free, but his arm still stretched outwards. "Are you sure you don't need help?"
"Officer Durante," Rudy touted, tugging on his suit collar. "I am a man of many talents. If I can juggle a prince's daily demands, not including wiping his ass, I can walk to the drinks table. Ahem."
One step.
He skittered off-balance.
Durante lurched forwards, but too late. Rudy hit the ground.
A pang of worry grappled Durante, and he knelt down again. Had Rudy passed out? He warily tapped his arm, suddenly conscious of the people around him.
"Er, Rudy?"
No movement.
Then, Rudy rolled around. His laugh ricocheted off the walls, high-pitched and manic.
"Ahahahah! Now say it!"
Durante tried not to laugh with him. If only he could get a picture right now.
"Er, how was your… trip?"
Rudy's laugh wheezed and heckled, and he had to clutch his stomach and roll to his side.
"Come on," Durante said, offering his arm again. "Get up."
This time, Rudy managed to a wobbly stand, seizing Durante's arm like it might dissolve. "Exaggerated striding is difficult."
His gaze clashed Durante's, and Durante felt a hum shatter into a song within him. Such lazy joy in that gaze that he didn't know how long he could look before the desire to reach out swamped him.
"Officer," Rudy said with firmness. "Escort me" – he hiccupped – "to my room."
It was a soft enough demand that, even if Rudy had whispered it, Durante couldn't have said no. So, blocking out the excited screaming of his brain, Durante looped one of Rudy's arms around his shoulders and half-helped, half-dragged Rudy from the canteen, disposing Naomi's drink on the way.
The light was nearly blinding, but Durante endeavoured. Since they were in the servants' wing, the servants' dorms, thankfully, were closer than the guards' dorms in the guards' barracks. They only had to manage down two small corridors before coming face-to-face with Rudy's room.
The familiar taste of Rudy's cologne hit Durante first, strong and potent. It made him weak at the knees.
The single bed was tucked into a corner, below a three-tiered bookshelf. Rudy had stuffed it with books and knick-knacks. More books were neatly stacked and exactly in line with the corners of the desk. The door to the en suite bathroom was shut, but as Durante eased Rudy onto the bed, he made sure to prop it open in case Rudy was sick.
There was a wardrobe with a full-body mirror hanging on the door too, and Durante spared himself a quick glance – sweat matted his brow, and his bronze skin seemed even darker than normal. Rudy was so tiny in comparison. Though, in general, the room was smaller than Durante expected.
Rudy lay face-down over his duvet, spread-eagle, and he groaned.
"Thank you." It muffled from the sheets.
"No problem," Durante replied. Intimidation rammed itself into his throat again, and he found himself parched of anything to say. "Well… I'll leave you to it, then."
He made to leave.
Rudy braced himself on his elbows. "Officer Durante. Wait."
Durante halted by the door.
Rudy didn't look his way, and his mussed hair slipped over his shoulder. "Would you…" his voice fell to the mousiest of whispers. "Would you stay? Just for a while."
The request sent a dizzying euphoria through Durante's brain, and he again, nearly fell to his knees. Stupid, stupid crush. Still, his heart seemed to somersault, and he couldn't hold it back.
"Sure. If you want," he tried to say as casually as possible.
A pause.
Rudy gulped, and it was loud. "Thanks."
Of course, spoke the only rational vestige in Durante's brain, he's only asking you to stay in case he is ill, in which case you'll have to call the servants' doctor to pardon him from service tomorrow.
Durante shut the door with a gentle click, and sat in Rudy's only chair – far too tiny for him, and he hulked over its edge. Only now did he realise how quiet it was in the room compared to the constant drumbeat of the electronic music at the work party. It was a comfort and a pain – every breath he inhaled was accentuated in the small space, which only served to feed his self-consciousness.
The only semblance of noise was a tiny clock on Rudy's bedside table. Tick, tock, it sputtered each second.
Rudy grunted, rolled over to his front, and leant against the wall. Eyes shut, he lolled his head to face up.
"Why is everything spinning?"
Durante snorted. "The Initial Effects of Alcohol: A Novel by Rudy."
Rudy laughed and dragged a hand down his face. "I've never been this drunk before." His giggles warped into a fit. "Ohdear lord, this is what it's like for Roy every other freakin' day!"
Roy? Durante couldn't say he was surprised. The prince would probably forgive Rudy if he didn't turn up, given that they were as close as brothers. Something squirmed in Durante's gut, but he ignored it.
He ended up twiddling his thumbs and leaning forwards. "If you've never got drunk before, then it'll go to your head pretty quickly. You're a slight guy, as well, so it'll burn even quicker."
Rudy held up a hand. "I was tallest in my class in elementary school, I think you'll find."
"I mean, compared to me." Durante couldn't resist a teasing smile. "You're practically a toothpick."
At this, Rudy stuck out his tongue. "Toothpick and proud." He lifted his other arm before he dropped it by his side again. "Could you lift me?"
Durante pressed his lips together. "I'm a guard, not the guy from Dirty Dancing."
"Could you kick my ass?" He grinned. "Just wondering if it's wise to ever cross you."
"The answer is no. It is not wise."
"I assumed as much."
"To assume is to make an ass out of you and me."
Rudy paused. "Touché." He pouted. "And I don't say that often, so cherish it."
Durante laughed. "Yes. I very much cherish your disdain, Ru."
Rudy's eyebrow rose, and he smirked so hard he slid back down to his bed. "Ru?"
Tick, tock. A frenzy clasped Durante. Shit. Shit. He'd called him Ru. That was way too personal.
"Yeah— er… sorry. Rudy."
"No," he replied. "No. Ru. That's… nice." He laughed. "Better than Reindeer. That's for sure."
"Is your full name Rudolf, then?" said Durante, somewhat desperate for a change of subject.
Rudy snorted. "You want to know my full name?" He sat up again, and shucked his suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor in wrinkled mess. "It's Rudolf Diederik Bezuidenhout-Leeuwenhoek."
Durante's mouth dropped open. "Rudolf… Rudolf what now?"
Rudy's laugh was wholesome and carefree, and Durante's heart squealed again.
"Rudolf DEE-deh-rik Beh-ZOY-den-out LAY-wen-hook," Rudy enunciated. "I know. Why my mom and dad decided to double-barrel their already horrendous surnames is still beyond me. That's why I just have everyone call me Rudy."
Durante felt resolve within him stiffen. He could try. It would look impressive.
"Rudolf Diederik Bezoydenhout-Laywenhook."
"Nope."
"Rudolf Diederik Bezoydenout-Laywenook."
"Nada."
"Rudolf—"
Rudy held up a hand. Sympathy crossed him. "Thanks for trying, but I resigned myself long ago to accepting that it'll never be said properly." He shrugged. "I guess only the legendary masters of Dutch can articulate something so utterly complicated and long-winded."
"I can get it with practice."
"That would require many hours of sitting here, listening to me tell you how badly you suck at pronunciation."
"Sure. I'll deal."
Tick, tock. Durante's blood curdled, and he fixated his gaze on the bed. Stupid, stupid brain—
"Sorry, I… er…" Rudy mumbled. He stared as if Durante was the only person left in the world. "Why… why do you hang out with me?"
Durante's head flew back up. "What?"
Rudy fiddled with his hands. "I'm asking you why you're here, chilling with me. Not many people would do that for me. I mean, I have lots of friends who would eat lunch with me, but not many who would chat with me like this."
"You asked me to stay."
"You could have said no." He lolled his head to one side. "Most guards don't like being near me."
"Why?"
"You know why."
Durante clamped his mouth shut. For moments, the only thing he could hear was his heartbeat, leaping and vaulting within him like an erratic animal.
Tell him.
No, snapped a good majority of him.
His mind warred with decision. No one knew Durante was gay. No one, except Naomi. Right now, he intended to keep it that way.
But Rudy…
Tick, tock. Durante rose slowly to his feet, calculating his answer. Filling it with wisdom he'd picked up in his short life.
"You're stereotyping all the guards, again. I promise we're not all homophobic assholes. I'm not going to stop hanging out with you just because you're gay, Rudy. It'd be stupid to lose your friendship over something like that."
Rudy's grin lifted from the depths, complacent. "Too damn right. It's the most foolish thing ever." He crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. "I obviously tether people to me with my witty and charming personality."
Durante felt his feelings puddle within him. Out of the woods. Thank god.
Tick, tock. He sat back down again, leaning back. "Do you ever have anything nice to say about anyone?"
It was Rudy's turn to stunt. "Nice?"
"Yeah," said Durante – adding a challenging grin for show. "You're always so cynical. Can you say something nice about anyone?"
Rudy huffed. "I sure as hell can, thank you. I'm great."
It wasn't that Rudy wasn't capable of niceties. He was just far too distanced from such an emotion to express them. "Saying nice things about yourself doesn't count. Say something nice about…" smugness washed over him, "Prince Roy."
Rudy's nostrils flared. "Pffft. No."
Durante propped one of his legs over the other. "Well, then. I guess you failed the challenge."
"Challenge?" The competitive streak within him must have exploded like a firework, as he jumped to his feet and started to pace. "Fine. I accept." He inhaled a long breath. "Prince Roy is a very… agreeable individual."
Durante's laugh burst from his throat. "Oh, god, that's your best?"
Rudy's pout and indignation only swelled. "I think that was an exceptional first attempt." He cleared his throat. "Fine. Roy has… nice nostrils."
Durante clapped, deadpan. "He might actually fire you for how pathetic that was."
Rudy pouted. His pacing became more ferocious, more consuming. "Roy would never fire me. I'm too important." His cheeks puffed. "And besides, I'm trying."
It was funny watching Rudy get so riled over something as simple as compliments, at least. Durante narrowed his eyes. "Is this… actually difficult, for you?"
"No," Rudy snapped, but it was obvious by the redness of his face that it was.
"Say something nice about Naomi, then."
He snorted. "Ass-trauskas?" He waved his hands in the air. "She has a very appealing face. I think."
A laugh blurted from Durante, and he doubled-over. "You think? Christ, Rudy. You're crap at this."
Crossing his arms again and raising his head, Rudy pursed his lips. Embracing his inner snob, it seemed. "I am not," he defended.
"You can't just say you think she has an appealing face. She either does or doesn't."
"Why not? My judgement in regards to women is terrible. That's definitely a compliment from me."
Durante's stomach hurt from laughing so hard. "Just admit: you're terrible at it."
Rudy stomped the ground for effect. "No," he said. "I refuse."
"It's not even hard."
"Oh, yeah? You do it then," Rudy barked. "Go on. See how it easy it is for you."
"Naomi is person who exuberates the qualities of a true guard, like loyalty and strength."
Rudy's grin egged him. "That was terrible."
"What? That was better than yours!"
"No, it wasn't. Admit it, Officer Durante. You suckity-suckity-suck-suck-suck at being nice just as much as I do."
Durante fizzled in competition. And his mouth opened. And he didn't stop the words that tumbled from him.
"You smell really, really good today."
Tick.
Tock.
The room went deathly silent.
All of the laughter and amusement sucked dry from Durante like a well, replaced with horror. Seething and unbridled. Raking against his skull.
Shit. Shit.
Rudy just stared. Wide-eyed. A blush crawled onto his cheeks like a slow disease.
Durante made for a recovery. "I— I mean—"
"O-Oh yeah?" Rudy snapped. "Well… you have gorgeous eyes! They're— they're like freakin' raw emeralds!"
It was a blow that equally pulsed through him like a shockwave as it did soften him.
"I—"
Tell him.
He clenched his hands.
"You are witty and charming, and I am tethered to it!"
Rudy gathered an indignant stare. "You're— you're funny too! I think you're hilarious!"
Durante couldn't feel his body anymore. It had melted under the onslaught of compliments. His heart throbbed.
"You're adorable!" he barked. "Especially when you blush!"
"You have a sexy voice!" Rudy countered.
"I bet you're a great kisser!"
"Your bare chest is goddamn delightful to look at!"
"You're ridiculously attractive!"
"I want to go out with you!"
"I want to go out with you!"
Rudy gulped. It was apparent he was undergoing the same processes – the blushing, the incessant pounding within his ribcage, the hypersensitivity to every touch, every taste, every scent.
"O-Oh, yeah? Well, sometimes— sometimes I see you and the other guards training shirtless, and I just think, how the hell can my weedy stature compete with a platoon of them?"
It struck the ultimate blow in Durante, and he had to stand back and lean against the wall.
Tick.
Tock.
What the hell was going on?
This was a confession… of the strangest sorts. Compliments thrown like a barrage of insults.
Durante opened and closed his mouth. Then, once he'd recovered some use for his flailing tongue, he said, "All right, you win."
Rudy stilled. His eyes were locked onto his, as if he wouldn't back down from the challenge, no matter how raw and exposed it made him feel. "D-Damn right I win." He broke the gaze, and Durante realised Rudy was shaking. Shaking. "Damn right I do."
Compete with a platoon of guards.
Durante's legs turned to jelly, finally, and he reclaimed the chair. Maybe their voices had carried out of the door, but he didn't care right now. No, right now… he couldn't look away from the redheaded valet with his red cheeks and red hands.
"Surprise," Durante whispered. "I… kind of have a crush on you."
Tick, tock. Rudy was going through a range of emotions – a wrinkle of shock, a crease of surprise, a squirm of embarrassment. Then, after seconds, his unadulterated wide eyes and agape mouth morphed into amusement, and he collapsed onto his bed. Laughing, laughing, and laughing.
"Oh my god." His whispers permeated the room like a gentle mist. "I thought you were straight, and my stupid, stupid heart was… giving me false hope."
So… all this time… the fleeting glances, the banter, the laughs… not just Durante's wishful thinking, but a truth, twirling through the air like a ribbon in the wind?
He wanted to laugh, too.
"Surprise, again. Not straight."
Rudy lifted his head. "Bi? Pan? Indeterminate? The guards used to hark on about you with a really hot woman, I'll swear it."
Durante pressed his lips together, pushing that memory away. "That's… yeah, no. I'm not into women. Just… just guys." He dared meet his gaze. "Just… you."
Rudy sat up. "Just… just me."
Tick, tock. They sat in silence for the longest time. Durante had confronted a deep fear, now, and his brain was swamped with his spiking emotions. The urge to close the space between them and just kiss was overwhelming, mind numbing, dancing into his soul like a whirlpool… and he could think of nothing else.
He stood up.
Rudy put his hand onto his stomach at that same moment, suddenly wincing. Suddenly pale.
"Don't… feel… don't feel so good."
Wars had been fought, and now they were left in the aftermath.
"You're… not feeling well?"
"No. The… yelling, and pacing, and… and… emotions…" he hissed. "Oh, not now, you pathetic digestion organ."
The pain was evident in his voice. Whether it was pain from his roiling stomach or pain from the rush of emotions… Durante couldn't tell.
"Do you want me to—"
Rudy suddenly was on his feet, scrambling into the bathroom – the next thing Durante could hear was retching. Hard, cold retching.
His feelings stubbed, Durante entered the bathroom and gently patted Rudy's back, hoping his presence could ease him. He had to pluck a few stray hairs from the firing range, but Rudy didn't complain – coughing and hacking over the toilet bowl.
It was a long ten minutes.
By the time Rudy was done, his body sagging against the wall, red capillaries crinkled under the layers of skin of his face, and his eyes flopped between open and closed.
"Never… doing that again…" he mumbled.
Durante hauled him to bed, careful not to jerk him around too much. He managed to peel his shoes from him and tuck him under the duvet, though a fever had struck Rudy so hard it was a wonder he wasn't complaining about the heat.
Didn't stop him grinning stupidly at the valet.
"The Hangover Effects of Alcohol: A Sequel, by Rudy Diederik Bezuidenhout-Leeuwenhoek."
Rudy closed his eyes, but a tug of his lips suggested some smugness, despite his condition. "Immune to alcohol and mispronunciation? You… asshole…"
Pride flooded through Durante, and he stood up. "Yeah. You really can't be nice, can you?"
The smirk widened. "Nope."
Durante smiled to himself, grabbing a basin from the bathroom to place by the bed, and he lowered the lights.
"I'll leave you to rest up."
"Ah, wait, Offi— Joseph."
The intimacy. The softness.
He hovered by the door handle. "Yes?"
Rudy rolled over, his eyes cracking open. They seemed to swirl as soft and warm as a chocolate fondue. Inviting and sweet.
"… About… about that date…"
Giddiness twirled through him.
"Takeout Chinese on me, next Saturday. You free at eight?"
Rudy sniffled indignantly. "Excuse you. You pick my hungry ass up at six. Clear?"
Durante smiled. "You got it."
He shut the door behind him. The hallway seemed so quiet and cold without the clock. So cold, in comparison to the warmth buzzing within him.
On his way back to his own room, Durante had to resist the urge to skip.
Maybe… just maybe… alcohol wasn't so bad.
A/N: I didn't intend to write 6k for these two losers, but alas... that's how the Durudy ship started to sail... and the origin of the platoon comment, hahah. Drunken Rudy is on par with Roy's arrogance, isn't he? XD Ngl, I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out, so I hope you enjoyed it too!
This is the shippiest thing I've written about the TSaTS characters to date, lol, and I hope this is just the start (with Durudy, and with Roy and his Selected... ;P) This is the first time I've ever written a gay relationship too, beyond minor, doesn't-really-count mentions, so I hope I have done the G in the LGBT+ community justice! Ain't got a clue who to write about next in Select Few, so any suggestions welcome.
Reviews, favourites and follows loved as much as I love the Graham Norton show! (graham plz send me tickets im desperate)
Thanks for reading!
~ GWA
P.S. I probably should have mentioned this way earlier (like, first chapter, early lol), but please drink responsibly! Otherwise you'll end up like Rudy. Trust me. It ain't pretty.