Work Text:
Andrei was immensely regretting the decision of inviting Fyodor Dolokhov to his home while it was full of plenty other society people. The man hadn't stopped shooting very suggestive glances at him the whole evening, and he could only hide his stupid blushing, and racing heart, and fluttery feelings, and sappy smiles for so long. It wasn't fair, either, he was in clear disadvantage here: Fedya really had not a thing to lose, Andrei did. He stared at the dancing people, lost in thought.
It didn't help that they had caught his sister with another woman earlier that year, and now their family's whole name rested on his shoulders. Andrei wished his sister had been more careful, but Andrei also now understood how difficult that was in reality, when it actually came down to it. Having had his own sister sent away also left him with no excuses, no i-didn't-knows, Andrei knew first hand what… "that" could cause: the gossip, the shame, the pain. Most of all, Andrei wished he could hug his sister, he wished they would have talked about this, he wished he knew sooner that he wasn't alone, he wished she could have any way of knowing now. He knew he hadn't been a good brother, he ran away way too often, but he also knew he would have done anything to help Mary. He wasn't too sure his newfound empathy came from a good place, though, maybe he just wished someone would help him now.
It also didn't help that it was Fedya Dolokhov, Andrei chuckled to himself, he couldn't have chosen a worse man.
"…Goddaughter, countess Natalya", Marya Dimitrievna was just saying to him, gesturing towards an exceptionally excited and energetic smiling girl next to her, who took a step towards him and, in a very unladylike manner, fervently shook his hand. The sudden aura of pure chaos snapped him out of his thoughts, and he awkwardly shook her hand back, but he did know a good impression wasn't caused; his face was known to always have a cold expression, as well as his words were known to be short and not too adorned.
"Please do call me Natasha, dear prince", she was widely smiling still, regardless.
Andrei quickly caught up with the direction -or rather intention- of the exchange. Surely a society lady of that age was already starting her lookout for a suitable husband, and, mildly panicking, he decided to make this conversation as brief as possible, and to ignore the issue until his mind was less preoccupied with other pressing matters, such as the intense gaze fixed on the back of his head and his own desperate impulse to return it.
"It is a pleasure meeting you, countess. how are you enjoying the evening?" He asked, but, clumsily, he forgot to wait for her answer and, already walking away, he threw a distracted "Now, if you'll excuse me" which had been probably not audible for the two ladies. He scrunched his nose into an expression of regret and shame, and cursed the skies, himself, Marya Dimitrievna, and the moment he decided to allow all this people into his house.
Andrei kept on walking around the room, more quickly than before, greeting people, honestly trying to make good impressions, and to maintain his honour intact. However, he felt already done with all of this, and was in desperate need to get everyone out of his house and finally be able to fuck his boyfriend, whose piercing stare got incredibly yet more intense.
He felt warmth in his stomach, and his pulse getting faster, as he tried to be as far as possible from Fedya, for he didn't know what would happen if he were within arm's reach. He tried to concentrate more on the wine and the vodka and the good impressions, but he was hyper aware of Fedya's laughter, and his voice, he saw him out of the corner of his eye, he almost thought he could smell his scent. Was he making sure Andrei was aware of him on purpose? Was he following him, speaking and laughing louder intentionally? Didn't he realize how torturous this whole experience was for him? Andrei walked around the room, restless and impatient, he even went out to the garden a couple of times, just to regain composure and to breathe fresh air and enjoy complete silence.
He was outside, in the middle of taking a deep breath when he felt a couple of strong arms around his torso, the feeling was so familiar he didn't even flinch; he knew right away it was Fedya. It was followed by lips pressed to the side of his neck, he let out a quiet gasp, which turned into nervous giggling. Andrei turned around without a word and kissed him on the lips, steadying himself by throwing his arms around Fedya's neck, and just holding on to him.
They kissed for a bit, Andrei's mind slipped into a state of total calmness for just a bit of a second, until he remembered his current circumstances. He looked at Fedya, wide eyed, gaping at him, and, without a word, he almost ran back inside. It wasn't long before Fedya also entered the house and Andrei's desperation grew again.
The ball went on for a couple more hours and, the whole time, Andrei's palms were sweating and his pulse was rushing, He was now the one who kept looking at Fedya's direction, chest aching to get more of him.
Andrei almost let out a scream of pure joy when the first person left, followed later by more people. The ball was finally ending. His misery was finally ending.
He could not help the wide smile he had while seeing his remaining guests out, he closed the heavy doors after the last one and immediately turned around to see Fedya Dolokhov standing in the exact middle of the ballroom staring at him with longing in his eyes and a hungry side smirk.
"At last," Andrei could barely hear him, for Fedya sounded low and raspy, as if it pained him to finally speak after that long keeping silent. "I can ask you for a damn dance".
Andrei did not have to fight his own smile this time, so all the previous, hidden smiles came out as one uncalculated, over enthusiastic one; and he just nodded, head up and down and up again with such joy!
Andrei would like to say he didn't ran to his boyfriend's arms, however, that would certainly be a lie. His heart felt full when he finally embraced Fedya, and they weren't dancing, exactly, they were more like hugging really tight, so tight, and for so long, actually, that Andrei started to worry when Fedya wouldn't lift his face from where it was buried in Andrei's neck.
"Fed, is something wrong? You're acting weird."
"Well," he said low, "I saw you talking to that girl and I..."
"Wait..." Andrei was grinning, he couldn't help it, "are you..." He took Fedya's face with both hands, getting closer, still smiling widely, "jealous?" He finished.
Andrei was very obviously making fun of him, so Fedya just closed his eyes in response. Yes, he was very scared but, after all, this very moment confirmed there was nothing to worry about, if he were to ask anyone who knew Andrei, they would say he was serious, cold, even; however, here he was all giggly, making jokes, showing affection... just for Fedya. And even if he sometimes felt like an embarrassment to Andrei, if they had to hide, to pretend that they were acquaintances at best; Fedya still got to experience this, the real Andrei. And that was something, wasn't it?
They finally got to do what people attending balls were supposed to do: they danced with the object of their affection.