I did a thing
Thanks to @shelobussy for giving me the idea for this little one shot! You didn't think I was serious, did you? But I was, oh, I was.
Desc: Hugo and Varian run into a problem while helping at VBS (vacation Bible school for those unfamiliar. It's literally summer camp but Christian). Warning for minor cursing, past homophobia.
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"And... it's locked." Hugo sighed and slid down the door of the closet. "Who designed this thing? Why would a door auto-lock when you close it?"
"Why wouldn't it?" Varian had already sat down. "If you hadn't dropped the key we would be out of here."
"You're always blaming me for stuff. This isn't even the right closet! This is the damn communion supply closet, and I told you the cleaning supplies were down the hall, but no, Heaven forbid I be right."
"I got turned around! Half the hallways out of the sanctuary look the same anyway." At least they wouldn't starve, though Varian might rather starve than subsist on grape juice and crackers that looked and tasted like Styrofoam. And would it be heretical to eat and drink communion elements outside of the ceremony? Surely God would understand, like that story with David and the sacred bread.
"Uh, earth to Freckles," Hugo's annoying voice cut through Varian's thoughts. "How are we gonna get out of here? The VBS has, like, four chaperones for the middle schoolers including us, we need to get out."
"Can't you pick locks, Beanpole?" Varian had never seen Hugo lockpick, but he looked like the type to know how.
With his long undercut blond hair, piercings, alternative clothing style, and flamboyantly gay demeanor, Hugo wasn't really the sort of person Varian would expect to be a youth group leader, but West Ingvarr Methodist Church prided itself on diversity and inclusion. Varian couldn't help but think, though, that even if it wasn't a sin, Hugo didn't need to make being queer his whole personality. Varian certainly managed not to.
"I can't pick this kind of lock. I don't know the inside mechanisms of the automatic doors. And I'll thank you not to use that tone when asking. I don't why you think you're better than me-"
"I don't think I'm better than you-" Varian began.
Hugo snorted. "Could've fooled me. Anyways, I could maybe figure out how to disassemble the lock, but I don't think Pastor Robin would be very happy with me."
"So we're stuck here," Varian groaned.
"Until someone comes along and sees the key on the ground, yes. Don't look at me like that, Freckles, I'm not pleased about it either. You're stuck in a closet with someone you hate, I'm stuck with someone who hates me."
"I don't hate you. You're annoying as- as heck, and loud, and honestly I don't think you should curse around the kids-"
"They're middle and high schoolers, they've heard the word 'shit' before. Besides, I know what it is. You don't like the way I dress, the way I talk, you don't like when I talk about my homosexuality-" Hugo said the last word like he was an old man deeply offended by it.
Varian rolled his eyes. "That's not it. If it makes you feel better, I'm literally bisexual. I just don't think you need to talk about it as much as you do-"
"Freckles, what would your life be like if you had had an openly queer leader in the church when you were those kid's age? Because I'll tell you right now, mine would have been a hell of a lot better. You can keep your internalized homophobia to yourself, but I'm going to be who I am. And I'm going to be for those kids what I needed." Hugo finished and turned his head away, arms crossed.
Varian couldn't think of a thing to say. He tried not to think about it much, now that he was out of Old Corona, and two years into college, but he remembered growing up in a church very different from West Ingvarr. Forget it being unsafe to be queer, Varian had dyed a streak of his hair blue when he was fourteen and been looked at like he was the devil's child into he finally broke and dyed it black again. Eventually, fifteen-year-old Varian had decided he couldn't take it anymore, and ran away. It'd quickly gone wrong, and he'd fallen in with a very bad crowd before his father found him, and promised they would move away after Varian tearfully confessed the reason for his rebellion.
All that to say, Hugo was right. Varian cringed thinking it. But Varian had been unfair in his judgment of him, and it was the right thing to do to admit that.
"I'm... sorry." Varian finally said. Hugo didn't turn his head, but his eyes flicked over and his eyebrows rose slightly. "I think... I let my biases color how I judged you, and that was... unfair and not very 'Good Christian' of me. I... really don't hate you, Hugo."
Hugo turned his head, and Varian could see him holding back a smile. "Thanks for the self-awareness. I forgive you, I guess."
Varian scoffed. "Thanks, 'I guess'."
"Well," Hugo began, obnoxious grin on his face, before pausing. "I think I hear footsteps! HEY? IS ANYONE THERE?" He yelled, forcing Varian to cover his ears.
"Yes, ominous voice? Wait. Hugo, is that you?"
"Yep!" He replied. "Varian, we're in luck! Okay, Yong, there's a key on the ground. I need you to slide it under the door, alright?"
"I don't see a- oh! There you go!" A second later, the bronze key appeared by the door. Varian and Hugo stood up, and unlocked the door.
"Feels good to be free!" Hugo declared, stretching.
"We were only in there for twenty minutes," Varian commented, grinning.
"Yeah, but twenty minutes stuck with you? Basically twenty years."
"Shut up, Beanpole," Varian pretended to punch Hugo's arm. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
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