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dancin away (with my heart)

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From the way they’re practically inseparable — you know, like insisting on going to the bathroom together to sneakily moving around seating placements until they’re seated together — you’d think they hadn’t seen each other in years.

It’s not like he and Kappy hadn’t kept in touch. Far from it actually, if their WhatsApp and Snap history have any say in the matter. In fact, it’s not even the first time they’ve seen each other back in Toronto. Not at all. 

Kappy’s been back for almost a month, just in time for the Raps win and just in time to get his contract done. Willy’s been back since Father’s Day, a little before that, even. They’ve had more than enough time to get it out of their systems and just be chill.

Apparently they’re incapable of chill .




Okay, let’s back up a little. It’s not like they need to go shopping for new suits for one wedding, but it’s not like anyone’s stopping them. After all, Kappy’s getting his pay raise soon enough. Might as well break it in.

“I like warm grey for weddings,” Willy says as soon as they step into the shop. 

“Then get warm grey,” Kappy says automatically, immediately going for the cufflink display at the counter. 

Willy rolls his eyes, tugs at Kappy’s sleeve to herd him along. “Pick a shirt first, then you can look at the cufflinks. Then they’ll match.”

“What if I want to pick a shirt to match the cufflinks, instead?” Kappy grins, but follows Willy anyway.

“Then you can go shopping with Auston next time.”

Kappy makes a face. “Ouch, right for the heart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Willy hums, already deep diving into the racks of suit jacket samples. He pulls a sleeve out, holds it up so he can glance at it, then glance up at Kappy, then back to the jacket. “Mm, too light for you.”

“Too light?”

“Washes you out,” Willy murmurs, too preoccupied now with holding the sample to his own skin. “Might be the move for me, though,” he considers.

“Are you saying I’m pale? I spent like, four days straight on the lake,” Kappy whines.

Willy raises a brow at him, but does not spare him much more than that. “Scandi problems, bro, you’ll roast up eventually.”

You’re Scandi, too, dipshit.”

Willy shrugs, chooses then to throw Kappy a grin, cheeky. “Some people are more gifted than others, I guess.”

Kappy groans.

They go with Willy’s choices — the lighter grey for him and a darker one for Kappy. He lets Kappy pick out their cufflinks, and half allows him to pick their ties. He has to veto the first set, because Kappy can’t take anything seriously the first time, but he’s been hanging around Willy enough to get it right when he tries again.

Willy tests the quality by brushing his fingers over the fabric. He nods his approval and wraps it around Kappy’s neck. He lets it hang there, unknotted, and steps back to evaluate it.

“Hm,” Willy hums, lets his eyes wander over Kappy, from his slides to the sunglasses perched in his carefully styled hair. 

“Verdict?” Kappy pushes, watching him eye him up.

“I think,” Willy starts, “we should find a nice rooftop pool and let you lay in the sun.” 

Kappy squints at him and Willy can’t help but break into a fit of laughter, content to bat Kappy away when he tries to shove at him.

“We’re in public, we’re in public,” Willy gasps between his laughter, easily lets Kappy grab him and wrap his arms around him. He thunks on Kappy’s thigh, enough of a tapout as he can manage. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kappy glances around real fast, makes sure no one else is in the showroom. He steals a kiss, quick and sloppy on Will’s cheek, and only then releases him.

Kappy tugs the tie off his neck, hands it to Willy. “Alright, Moneybags, let’s get out of here.”

Willy hands it right back. “Break in that contract yourself,” he blinks up at him, sweet, and Kappy’s only human.

He can’t come up with anything to counter that.




The actual wedding is good, it’s fun, and it’s refreshing as hell to see all of the guys again. Even Connor’s in town, and he makes the two of them promise to be on their best behavior, reminding them that it’s Zach’s day.

“We know,” Willy whines, tucking his sunglasses away so they hang from his chest pocket. Kappy runs a hand through his hair, distractedly eyeing up the line at the bar.

“Just don’t go crazy,” Connor sighs, giving up.

“We get it,” Kappy snaps back into it, starts to grin. “You’re married and boring now, got it.”

“Hey,” Connor protests. “Am not.”

“Look, Hyms wouldn’t have given us an open bar if he didn’t mean it,” Willy nudges Connor’s arm. “Drink, be merry, whatever it is.”

“Yeah, come on, Con. Be whatever it is,” Kappy reiterates, goading him into line with them. 

Connor sighs, defeated. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Let’s go, boys.”

And that’s just the beginning.




Honestly, no one should’ve allowed them on the dance floor, but some song comes on that Willy thinks he knows the words to (turns out he doesn’t, big surprise) and Kappy dutifully allows himself to be dragged out with him. 

It’s easy for Willy to hold onto Kappy like it’s where he belongs, second nature. It’s easy for Kappy to let him. They’re loose enough to lack inhibition, to lack better judgement. They did half promise Connor they’d behave but, well. 

“Kap, Kap,” Willy groans, carefully stepping in a poor attempt to dance. “I’m like, really drunk.”

“I know, babe, I know,” Kappy laughs, holds him up. “Me, too. Same. I love open bar.”

A new song starts, a slow one. But they just got out here and there’s no way to drag Willy off now. So Kappy goes with it, doesn’t mind all the couples rushing out to crowd around them. He lets them push Willy closer into him.

“Mhm, but like. Super drunk,” Willy says, almost sad. Kappy won’t have any of that.

“Stop being sad or I’ll lick you,” he grins, absolutely one-hundred percent serious. 

“You wouldn’t,” Willy says, a hushed gasp, just over a whisper. It’s genuine, when he’s like this. “We’re in public. Ish,” he whispers against Kappy’s shoulder.

“Deadass,” Kappy grins, amused. “I will.”

“You’re bluffing,” Willy says, fully muffled now. Kappy hears him, though. He gets a better hold on him and takes more of his weight. He doesn’t mind.

“Am not,” Kappy insists, breathin the words into Willy’s hair.

“Are too,” Willy keeps insisting, petulant. 

Kappy doesn’t reply this time, pulls Willy closer and darts his tongue out, flicks the skin under his ear, his favorite spot, and retreats just as fast.

Willy gasps, wide-eyed with shock, but he keeps clinging to Kappy, doesn’t let him pull away. “You asshole,” Willy says, accusatory, even as he starts to laugh. He keeps time to the music, lets Kappy sway them as he holds on. 

Eventually, the song ends and Kappy leans in again, but without tongue this time. “Hey, wanna take a break,” he whispers in Willy’s ear, “just up to the room for a sec, then right back.”

“Mmm,” Willy considers. He likes the way Kappy’s voice sounds in his ear, likes the way he feels pressed against him. “Okay, but we have to come right back. For Hymie.”

“Of course,” Kappy nods. “For Hyms.”

“Cool,” Willy nods, then tugs at his tie, cheeky. “Then let’s go because I want you to kiss me like three songs ago.”

Kappy swats Willy away but laughs, smile wide. He grabs his hand, tugs him through the crowd.

“Good,” he replies, “glad we’re on the same page.”