to live where others merely dream

Written for Ficuary 2021, Prompt: Dance. Set pre-movie. Title from The Trail We Blaze. Comments and kudos would be awesome. Enjoy!


Tulio sits in a tavern on the edge of town reveling in some much needed down time after a week of crazy schemes and near misses. He's counting out his winnings after a surprisingly good and surprisingly legit payout from a poker game this afternoon that had, for once, not ended in a mad dash away from cheated gamblers or irate guardsmen. He's in good spirits, knowing that this will keep them well-fed and well-sheltered for a while assuming they don't blow all the coin on tonight's celebrating. It's certainly happened before - easy come, easy go, and all that. He takes a generous swallow of what is not his first drink of the evening and looks to Miguel.

The other man is dancing with two lovely ladies on the other side of the room to some upbeat tune played by a trio of musicians set up in the corner. When he catches Tulio watching him, he moves to join him at the table. He steals the last of Tulio's drink while Tulio puts away their funds and asks, "So, how'd we do?"

Tulio frowns at the empty glass Miguel's left him with and waves to the bartender for another. "Looks like we'll be able to afford an actual bed for once," he affirms. Miguel looks delighted with the news – a real, actual bed is a luxury they seldom get the opportunity to enjoy when food and shelter are usually more pressing concerns.

"Fantastic!" Miguel beams at him. Then, with a look back at the two women he'd been dancing with, he drags Tulio up out of his chair. "Come on, then, come dance."

"No, no, no," Tulio tries to protest, not nearly drunk enough for dancing (and unwilling to get drunk enough that it could pose a risk to their plans for that money as it so often does), but Miguel flashes him a brilliant smile and those big, stupid, pleading puppy dog eyes of his, and as usual Tulio is incapable of resisting whatever Miguel wants.

"Live a little, Tulio," Miguel begs of him.

And Miguel isn't wrong. Tulio could certainly do with a little loosening up. Sometimes he's jealous of how easily Miguel can let go and enjoy the moment. It's not as easy for him - he's the one typically behind the planning, figuring out how they're going to eat this week, where they can spend the night. Miguel is usually the one behind the spur of the moment grand-scale plans, while Tulio keeps them safe from job to job as best he can. And the constant level of awareness that entails - knowing which of the taverns to avoid because the guards on duty this morning prefer one over the other, knowing that the inn by the market will sometimes lower the rate for the night if they have the room, knowing that there's a trader on the docks who owes Miguel a favor - keeps him pretty constantly on edge.

Tonight, at least, that is not the case. Those worries can wait.

With a resigned sigh, he relents, lets Miguel drag him the last few feet to the pair of women – Isabel and Maria, he soon learns – and the dancing commences. The musicians are playing a series of happy upbeat tunes, accompanied by a bard with many a merry drinking song, and the four of them, along with a few other scattered patrons of the tavern, dance happily, if with progressively less coordination and inhibition as the evening wears on. The girls laugh at Tulio and Miguel's easy bantering, gasp at their daring tales of adventure (some of which might even be true), and happily accept the drinks Miguel buys for them with his share of their funds. Eventually, though, the music ends, the drinks empty, and the tavern owner shoos them all out into the street so he can close up for the night.

"Well, aren't you going to invite us back to your place?" Isabel asks, still hanging off of Tulio's arm as they stumble away from the tavern.

Ignoring the fact that they do not, in fact, have a place, Tulio knows Miguel had no such plans for their evening – especially if it involves the bed Tulio promised him. "I'm so sorry, ladies," Tulio sadly laments, "but I'm afraid our accommodations for the night wouldn't allow that. We'll have to part ways here. We thank you for your company."

"Yes," Miguel agrees, "It's been a wonderful evening, but we must big you good night."

Maria and Isabel begrudgingly head in the direction of the nearby village as Tulio and Miguel stumble back toward town, where they can surely find an inn still with vacant rooms willing to take their coin. Miraculously, the room they find they get for practically a steal thanks to a lull in visitors to a normally crowded inn, so soon enough the two of them are happily sprawled across a very comfortable bed in a rather sizable room.

"Ahh," Miguel sighs, "It's been so long."

Tulio mumbles in agreement, face buried against a soft pillow, one arm tossed lazily over Miguel's side. "Since that time we swindled that ship captain out of his wages?"

Miguel grins fondly at the memory of a plan that somehow managed to be both spectacularly well-orchestrated but also very haphazardly slapped together. "Mm, yes," he agrees. That had been some of their best work. They'd been able to afford a room for weeks and Tulio had even surprised Miguel with new strings for his lute. He rolls toward Tulio, both of them still pleasantly drunk, and to signal the start of a different sort of dance than what he'd dragged Tulio into at the tavern, he steals a kiss.

Tulio allows the theft like he's allowed Miguel to steal so very many other things over their years together – countless kisses, countless coin, countless foods and drinks, countless nights spent like this, where they wake tangled up in each other's arms, occasionally with the benefit of a warm bed beneath them. But Miguel stole his heart a long time ago and Tulio finds he doesn't mind in the least.