rapunzel and eugene from tangled are a bi powercouple
Rapunzel sparks something in him. Bright and yearning and beautiful in a way he never would have known without her. There’s a guilt in that, stealing her away from her tower (even if she insisted on doing it herself) and exposing her to the terrors of the real world (even if she... managed them all just fine) and...
Admittedly, he’s a bit of a chauvinist. She’s a capable girl. Trusting, naive to a degree about all the ways the world works, heart not quiet calloused. But she can hold her own, survive. Maybe he’s jealous of that ease, and the idea makes Eugene laugh to himself with an armful of bread and cheese, caught in the way her golden hair reflects sunlight.
Maximus stands proudly behind him, chuffing in amusement as Rapunzel spins and skips across the small city market square. She gathers all manner of partners, children and men who look nervous to sway off-beat but fall prey to her beaming smile, and women who fluster but flutter into place at her enthusiasm. It’s impressive.
Almost as impressive as her convincing him to join in. Granted, the horse helped.
He laments the fallen meal items, but he’s caught up in the arms of a broad man with silver in his hair. Eugene smiles, halfway between nervous and interest. He’s not a bad-looking guy, even pinks at the ears when he realizes the notorious Flynn Rider is matching him step for step. Their hips align, thighs brushing, fingers curling together.
When he’s given off to the next dancer, a spritely girl with red hair hanging in thick curls, Eugene smolders all over again. She laughs, delighted, and spins him with enough force that he nearly knocks into Rapunzel. The beat changes, partners shift, he’s cradled by an older lady as the redhead takes Rapunzel’s calloused hands. They dance bosom to bosom, the young blonde’s cheeks warming with her bright grin.
It’s there again. That spark. Bright and yearning and beautiful.
As husband and wife, one day, they’ll be fresh from a different kind of dance. Something more intimate, his hands splayed over her back and bare thighs and wet with her arousal as they struggle to breathe naturally again. Eugene figures he’ll ask her then, whether she felt something... special in that square, with the redhead and the half-dozen blushing girls after her.
“Of course I did,” she’ll say, drawing circles on his chest and beaming, “—same as you with all those handsome couriers.”