Re: lakeside mansion; hugh c. & dietre a.
Likewise, Hugh hadn't had much luck really when he'd decided he did want a relationship with someone. They'd fallen apart, typically when he expressed interest in the idea of something more than friendship and flirting and semi-regular sex. Thinking about the future, rather than just the present, prompted a fear that he might mess things up, but fortunately, the present was nice enough to distract from any really serious future thoughts.
Hugh had always slept better with someone. Having Heart helped, because the dog was large enough to settle into the bed next to him and was warmth and presence, but she couldn't be what she wasn't, and she wasn't human. Hugh's method of dealing with sleeplessness typically involved running himself until he couldn't help but sleep, and usually it worked - well enough. And when it didn't, he found himself curled up on this sofa - although typically alone, maybe with one of the cats, or with Heart - until he fell asleep to whatever familiar film he'd started in the background.
Hugh's lips turned into a smile. "Yeah, plus, I should sing you my song." This was stated with a good deal of certainty, but lacking any emphasis on immediate follow-through. He was sleepy, and remembering all of the words to 'If I can't love her' at this hour wasn't high on his priority list. But he would, maybe tomorrow morning, after coffee.
Dietre needed live music, and marble floors, and black tie - this was obvious to Hugh. And he could provide those things, it'd just be a matter of figuring out where, and his mind half ran towards the Capital, who among his acquaintances from his theatre work would be likely to know, and the when of it - not a weekend because Dietre had work, but Hugh's schedule would be opening up after this weekend before he got his next project. Although Dietre might need lessons first. Hugh realized he'd ran through all of those things only in his head, and he smiled, blindly reaching to find Dietre's hand so he could squeeze it with the promise. "It'll be that nice. What kind of guy do you think I am?"