The Ball. And Doom.

[amicably_absent]

For some reason, while Cain was stolen by Ahamo, Jeb and Tutor to get ready for the ball, while Glitch found himself hurried off by Raw, DG and Azkadellia.

The girls had clearly been scheming for a while, because there was beauticians ready, girls with steam things and hot things and clothes and al kinds of things that Glitch was sure he hadn't to go through to get ready for balls before.

Raw was stripped out of his furs and washed, doing a remarkable impersonation of a cat getting a bath with the yowling and complaining and eventual compliance with pouting. He cheered up when they got to blow drying and brushing through, his wild fur and hair neatened and brushed out and settled. Glitch insisted they weave ribbons through it, bows that Azkadellia clearly didn't entirely approve of and made DG pull that face that said she was laughing inside but wouldn't hurt feelings by saying it. Glitch thought it was cute, especially was Kalm was given the same treatment.

Then the mirrors were taken away and he was set upon by the ravenous hoards. Combs and brushes pulled at his hair past yells from DG telling them to mind the zipper. His face was scrubbed with some sweet smelling, rough stuff while his nails were buffed and filed and cleaned. Steam blasted over his scalp and oil that smelt like satusma was carefully worked through it to 'give it definition', whatever that meant.

The girls were being done at the same time. Azkadellia was quiet and elegant. DG complained and yelped as her hair was curled and pinned up, her make up up expertly applied. Glitch stopped questioning after a while when they descended on him with brushes until he was whisked away by a team of dressers, away from the girls and into a side area to be put in a suit.

He didn't mind the tight fitting, long sleeved under shirt. He dealt with the formal pants and thin piping on them and the polished black shoes. He didn't even grumble at the shirt that was done up att the way, professional and proper and not at all how he usually wore them.

The coat caused a stink. It was heavy, with small hooks instead of buttons and a deep wide swing and beautiful trim like he thought his old coat might have had before his head casing. It was a rich colour and lined with rich silk.

And it had medals. And that was the problem. He had no idea what they were for, but he was assured they were his and he had to wear them because Her Majesty had asked him to.

Which is why he's dressed up so fine, with shining medals and just enough make up to accentuate his features and his hair in disarray, with loose curls and gleaming zip, because he's used his fingers to undo the neat work the hairdressers did hiding his zipper with Ambrose's old side part.

And he was dragged in there to be there with the Royal family. So naturally, he's lurking near the corner of the Royal Dais, exchanging looks with DG and hoping Cain turns up soon so he has someone to talk to against his wall.

Comments

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Thankfully for everyone involved, Wyatt doesn't go through any such ordeal, but whether that's thanks to being whisked away by sensible, grown men, or sheer luck, he couldn't say. They clean up, they shave what needs to be, which in Cain's case means his entire face. Tutor and Ahamo exchange glances at this, as if wondering when the young man will grow a few inches of masculinity.

Cain resents this, but sees nothing to gain in arguing an unspoken point.

There are naturally manservants there, to help with clothes and other such pampering pertaining to a gentleman's daily grind, but while Cain suffers in silence, he has to admit that they are professional and efficient, both of which are traits he can appreciate.

The fine piece of dress uniform that he's presented with, "A token of the Queen's appreciation," Ahamo informs him with a proud beam of a smile, that he can't quite wrap his mind around. Undershirts and sock garters he was expecting, and the same goes for a stiff, starched shirt and prickly cufflinks, but the uniform of the Queen's Royal Guard is just too much.

And yet, when the time comes, the three men step out all wearing their finest, and make their way to the huddle of familiar faces. Cain, wearing the darkest, most subtly luxurious uniform he's ever owned. Complete with his own set of medals, though nowhere near Ambrose's and Glitch's accomplishments, by far.

He stops short when he catches sight of him. Stunned.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch is thankfully not pulling faces at DG when the men make their way out (and he resents the implication of that, that he and Raw aren't men somehow). He's back to leaning against the wall, gazing at some piece of the floor, hands clasped tightly in front of him and being wrung as he thinks whatever odd thoughts he's thinking.

He looks after a few long moments, solemn, distant look pulling into a warm, heart felt and touched smile. "Wyatt..."

He looks magnificent. Every inch the handsome soldier.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It isn't an implication Wyatt wants to waste time on. He just figures the girls got to Glitch first. He's more interested in knowing where Jeb's gone. But that was before setting his eyes on the most stunningly handsome gent in the vast ballroom.

"Hey, Sweetheart," he smiles, finding words not entirely on his own, spurred on by old conversations more than actual thought. He steps closer, hands going to Glitch's, just to hold them, and maybe to stop the old habit of wringing hands from perpetuating itself.

"Hey..."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch catches Wyatt's hands, a strange thrill in his chest because no one ever walked up to him while he leant against the wall before, not looking at him like that and breathless with anticipation.

And certainly not the most handsome man in the room, the dashing soldier. "You- You look amazing."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

His heart is beating in his chest, warm and fluttering as if trying to break free when there's no need. He chuckles, just shy of breathlessly. "I was just going to say that. You're stunning."

One of his hands flow up, to carefully caress the very ends of the loose waves. It's longer than he remembers it, but maybe that's because the curl isn't as tight. Regardless, it suits Glitch, even if it was Ambrose's preferred style. Brushed out and soft.

"Your zipper looks like it's made of platinum."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

He gives that cheeky, slightly guilty smile. "DG helped me polish it with the stuff they used in my hair... It smells like satsuma."

He takes Wyatt's other hand in both of his, pressing it to his own chest where his heart races away. "You made it do that. I didn't feel like that until I saw you. You're like the dashing soldier from a childhood book. Like the Queen's own bodyguard."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

With Glitch holding his hands, Wyatt smiles, and leans in to smell his hairline - and subtly - the zipper too. The Queen's own bodyguard. A dashing soldier.

"I'll be your own bodyguard tonight, if you'll have me. But, please forgive me, I seem to have lost my manners."

He steps back, with a slight (very slight) bow. "Would you join me for a dance?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

If not for years of schooling and manners, Glitch might've just broken down and cried and hugged Wyatt. Instead, his eyes are just very bright as he bows back and holds out his hand. "I'd be honoured, sir. Let me guess... you'll lead?"

There's a bright grin at the small reminder of other times.

Azkadellia nudges DG, nodding towards the pair as they head for the dance floor.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

DG literally beams at the sight, doing very little to contain her glee, but throwing her arms around her sister in a victory hug.

It would seem the two men have their very own cheering squad, but that's over there.

They're over here, and Wyatt has just placed his hand on Glitch's waist. "You'll have to tell me if I get this wrong, okay? I can't remember the last time I danced at a fancy place like this."

And by fancy, he doesn't mean Royal Castle, he means Big Occasion.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch slides his hand to Wyatt's shoulder, leaning in to his ear. "Just like in the moonlight," he whispers softly. "Don't worry about everyone else."

He knows the movements, even if he can't remember them. Actual muscle memory for real dancing, not just his 'dancing'. "I never remember anything. Doesn't stop me."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He sighs, heart still beating fast, but there's something soothing about being here, close and intimate despite such a public setting. Maybe it's Glitch's voice, maybe it's how well they fit like this, but either way, Wyatt closes his eyes and starts to lead.

"I'll never forget that night. You were so beautiful in the moonlight."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I think I had my eyes closed most of the time." He follows perfectly, sinking into a natural dancing pose, moving easily, coat swinging with his body as they move.

"It was the first night I realised how special you are to me."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He chuckles softly, eyes blinking open for a split second to glance at Glitch's curls. They stay at half mast, unfocused and seeing that night more than the here and now.

"It was like a dream. You opened your eyes and looked at me and smiled. Didn't even seem to mind that I fumbled at first. I had no idea why I got up and started dancing with you, but it felt so right."

Somewhere further in the room, Kalm drags Raw onto the dance floor. He wants up, up where he can see all the pretty people better. Raw lifts him up easily, and weaves his way through the many dancing couples.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"When you dipped me." He remembers that, being dipped and looking up and feeling himself smile like it was a dream or a fog.

"Everything was blue and silver. Your eyes were so brilliant." He moves around with Wyatt, stepping out the dance easily. "Like now. You're amazing now. Dip me again?"

A couple of old guard nobles are lurking, leaning in near Raw and Kalm. "Of course, he always did have an eye for lower class but well developed men."

"Of course," the other replies. "Brawn and no brains types. Common. It's just not fitting, is it? His station, personal adviser to the Queen, and running around with common soldiers and servants. And it's not like he can blame the headcasing, he was like it before."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

The first sign of danger Raw gets is the quiet thrumming to the back of his chest as Kalm starts to growl faintly. That's when he feels it too, the old, bitter, sickly-shiny malice. Kalm may not know what they mean, or at whom it's directed, but Raw knows. Raw feels it, and through him, his young charge feels it too. "Well, he certainly never put his predilections on display like this before," the first one sneers (and Raw's mouth twitches in the hint of baring teeth). "Certainly not. One might surmise the medicos left out the part that knows proper manners when they put his brain back in." The two of them guffaw merrily, and Raw makes his way further into the crowd, away from the ugly-spirited men and their acrid mumblings. This is not the time for defending their friends, their second family. It will come another day.


Wyatt smiles, one hundred percent up for Glitch's shenanigans. "Okay, ready?" Step, step, twirl, flip. He keeps a steady hand on Glitch's, and around his back, careful not to drop him even if he loses his footing. As if he would, but just to play it safe.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch smiles. "Always ready." He dips with perfect balance, hands holding onto Wyatt and medals chiming slightly with the movement.

He rights himself again after a moment, still following in every technicality, but suggesting where and how they should move with shifts of his body and hands.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He leans in closer after it, grinning even as he murmurs a hushed little something onto Glitch's ear. "You do realize you're a pushy dance partner, don't you?"

Notice how he isn't complaining.


By the grand entrance to the ball room, every so often a name is announced as there are new arrivals. One in particular draws more than enough attention from various guests. Jebediah Cain. Wyatt looks up, meeting his son's frustrated expression and gives him a wink. Jeb smiles in return, and makes himself further inside, subtly checking the room's exits in case of emergency.

Raw, given a new objective by a much cheerier Kalm than just a few moments ago, sets a course through the many dancing nobles. Kalm wants to say Hi, he gets to say Hi. Even if it involves climbing even further up Raw's body, standing on his shoulders and pouncing.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Yes. And you love it." He turns them, still apparently leading and dips himself again with a grin.

The orchestra winds up the song and Glitch decides it's time to go and find... oh dear. "I think the tiny cute Viewer just pounced your son. From Raw's shoulders."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Judging by the laughter coming from that direction, too loudly in the short break between songs, Jeb wasn't expecting it. Wyatt turns to look, heart warming further at the sight of Kalm wrapping himself around Jeb's shoulders like a cat. He's laughing helplessly, and Raw's bared his teeth in that strange little smile of his, and Kalm is busy swatting at Jeb's medals.

Every inch the proud father, Wyatt wraps his arm around Glitch's waist. "You want a drink?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch slides his hand into the pocket of Wyatt's coat and leans in against him. "Love one. Don't they look adorable together?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He isn't sure yet if he likes the coat or not. It's so much heavier than he's used to, and stiffer. But Glitch's hand just kind of breaks away the formality of it, and if he likes it, then that's enough. "They certainly do."

But maybe they should leave the boys to their fun. He glances at the table packed to the brim and more of refreshments, and gives Glitch a small nudge in that direction. "Shall we?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch like the weight, it makes him feel safe and secure, wrapped in the cloth and feeling the swing of it. It's familiar and comforting for him. For Ambrose.

"Mm, good idea." He wanders that way, staying close to Wyatt. "I could go the Nebbiolo from the Southern region."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I didn't take you for a connoisseur." He smirks, amused. "Memories coming back, are they?" They make their way across the dance floor, Wyatt always half a step behind, always keeping his hand on Glitch's back to keep him steady.

Meanwhile, Kalm has coerced Jeb into dancing, because dancing is how you spell FUN, obviously. So, balancing on Jeb's feet and holding on to his hands, they do like kids and their loved ones have for times immemorial.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"No... just something I really, really want right now." He throws a glance at the boy dancing, smiling widely and nearly tripping over his feet but for Wyatt's hand holding him steady.

"And then we can lurk by the wall and watch."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Wyatt nods, thinking he quite gets the picture now, but if it's what Glitch needs to unwind, he won't object. "You saying you don't want an encore? I mean, sure we can hang back for a while and watch everyone else enjoying themselves, but I figured I should make good use of the time I have before the entire royal family descends on us, with the exception of Ahamo," he hopes. "-wanting to dance. And there's something else, too."