Tis Nearly the Season
Category: Romance/Fluff
Pairing: Magnus/Will
Summary: With Christmas fast approaching, Magnus takes it upon herself to teach Will proper dance etiquette.
Warnings: None .
Disclaimer: Own nudda, zip, zilch!
Authors Notes: So after watching Dirty Dancing over the weekend I was kind of inspired. I just want to put out there that I know nothing technical about how to dance and pretty much fail at the practical too. Hopefully that doesn't affect the story too much :P
"Magnus?" Will's brow knits together as he hovers by the door of the gym. She requested his presence with no indication of why and by what he can gather from the rooms set-up, the mystery was intentional. "You wanted to see me..." he steps forward, trailing the length of her outfit. The short black tank is a far cry from her usual choice of demure blouse and the matching skirt twirls freely as she crosses the room.
"Ah Will, good-" she stops short of reaching him to fiddle with the sound system Henry provided, "take off your shirt."
His gaze snaps up from the long expansion of leg, wondering if he's heard correctly or if the comment is a merely a manifestation of his distracted thoughts. "Excuse me?" He presses, emitting a slight cough to cover the high pitch his voice has taken.
"You shirt-" she supplies again, thumbing the Ipod in her hand, "it's imperative we work on your posture before the upcoming month."
He scratches the side of his head completely and utterly lost. It was November and as far as he knew there wasn't supposed to be a training session before December arrived, or at least there hadn't been in the three years proceeding now. "Magnus, what's going on here?"
This time she lifts her gaze, raising an eyebrow at his almost timid expression. "Your dancing is, well... in all honesty atrocious and I'm sorry but I won't stand for a repeat of previous Christmas benefits we've attended."
"Hey, I'm not that bad-" he defends, folding his arms neatly across his chest. So he's stepped on her toes a couple of times, he can't imagine Henry -who is awkward by nature- being much better. "So let me just clarify here-" he starts again in response to her silence, "I do you a favour by attending these 'things' and as thanks I'm being subjected to dance lessons?"
"Shirt off, now..." she smiles sweetly, letting a mid paced song flow from the speakers. It's not too fast but has enough tempo to give her a sense of his timing as they dance. Pulling her hair back, she secures it in place with an elastic while walking to the centre of the room.
He concedes with a sigh, tugging the hem of his t-shirt up and over his chest. "Not a word, to anyone-" he warns, tossing the fabric aside and moving to stand before her. If the others find out about this he will never live it down.
"I swear." She agrees taking in his defined chest with an appreciative glance but it quickly turns disapproving as her gaze drifts over his poor posture. "Stand up straight, shoulders back."
He follows the direction, despite his instincts protesting it's a ridiculous notion. Nobody dances like this any more but he knows she's lived through an era where men were expected to move with grace and elegance. Clearly she expects no less from his efforts.
"Better." She moves behind him, stretching her fingers over the tight muscle and adjusting his stance until she's completely satisfied. "Perfect-" she lets her hand linger a moment longer than necessary, admiring his toned physique. Aside from a few small scars, the exertion from their missions has clearly been having a positive effect on his fitness.
He gives an involuntary shiver as she brakes the contact, mentally putting it down to the loss of heat from her warm skin.
"Cold?" She questions, taking her place back in front of him.
He swallows, hoping his voice doesn't betray the short response, "yeah, a little." He knows he shouldn't be this unbalanced, that her affect is becoming more and more of an issue in their daily undertakings but as per usual the problem gets side swiped as he attempts to stay focused.
"Not to worry-" she assures, completely unaware of his discomfort as she grasps his hand squarely in her own, "I promise, you'll warm up quite quickly." Stepping forward she settles into the hold and he instinctively finds her waist, cursing at light flush that her proximately evokes.
Irony, really isn't his friend at the moment.
"Go back, forward, back, back-" she starts to direct him, admiring the way he picks up the basic steps with precision and timing. While it will take some work, she's positive she can have him leading confidentially by the end of the session.
"Spin."
He raises his hand at the direction, propelling her out and she twirls elegantly through the extension. However, on the return he fails to keep steady enough and she stumbles catching herself against his chest. "Sorry-" he winces apologetically helping her straighten up, "guess that needs some work."
She nods, momentarily distracted by hands that have settled firmly above the band of her skirt. For a second neither of them move locked on each others gaze, until she mentally shakes herself offering a semi-awkward smirk, "feeling the heat yet?"
Aside from a stiff breathe he manages to keep his composure flawless, "thinking of turning it up?"
"We'll see..." she plays with him coyly before returning her hand to his shoulder, "where were we?"
His brain kicks into gear, desperately trying to remember what she was teaching him, "two step, I think..." They continue on in the same manor with her vocalising the moves and he's actually starting to enjoy the challenge, until her fingers suddenly snake down to the back of his waistband.
He jerks forward, instinctively straightening as she presses hotly against him.
"Posture Will..."
She reminds gently and he breathes out, bringing his hips forward and rolling his shoulders back. "Right."
Her hand remains firmly in place and he guesses it's to ensure he doesn't return to slouching. It's an effective action. He's too scared to move, holding upright so there's less friction between their bodies.
"Much better-" she leans into his ear so he can hear her above the music, "but you need to relax, keep the tension in your arms and back, not your steps."
Impossible, he thinks, unless they can dance with at least three metres space separating them. And even then the way she's moving, heels continuously gliding in and out of his clumsy feet, unintentionally showing off her long toned legs...
"Okay, you know-" his voice sounds breathless and he coughs, placing a little more force behind it. "I think I'm ready to try that twist thing again." He's ready for anything, so long as it discourages the proximity that's having an undesired effect on his body.
She twirls out and this time he catches her with ease, returning the slightest amount of distance between them. "Not bad-" she praises, easing back into the rhythm. He's getting better but once again he's reverted to slumping and she waits patiently for him to finish the first set of steps before turning in his arms, "here let me show you."
Sucking in a deep breath he allows her to guide his hold, bringing it to rest over her rib cage.
"See how my upper body stays in place-" she demonstrates by lowering his hands to her hips, closing her eyes as the sensation causes her skin to tingle. His response is a gruff acknowledgement in her ear and shivers, momentarily forgetting her inhibitions.
"Magnus..." he swallows hard, rubbing his thumb in slow circles across her stomach and she turns slowly finding his gaze with hesitation.
He acts out of pure instinct, jerking her closer until they're only inches a part.
"We shouldn't-" he starts, with no intention of releasing her.
Simultaneously they collide, mouths crashing together in a kiss that sees her struggling to maintain a sense of dignity. His hands are everywhere, exploring her body in a frenzy of lust and she moans pressing herself harder against him. He responds, hoisting her up and she instinctively wraps her legs over his hips letting out a surprised gasp as he gracefully lowers them to the floor of the gym.
The surface is cool and she uses every ounce of control to ignore the desire coursing through her in favour of sobering up. "Will-" her fingers fan out across his chest, halting the attack he's about to start on her neck. She doesn't want him to stop, god she really doesn't... but they're not exactly in a private location, "perhaps we should continue this elsewhere?"
He freezes, the rational side of his brain fixating on the fact she isn't rejecting him and actually wants it to continue. "I...yeah, okay-" he stutters, finding it hard to comprehend she's willing to be someone who's so far out of her league.
Suddenly, he's extremely nervous.
"Relax-" she all but purrs, pressing her lips to the inside of his elbow and he can barely focus enough to breathe let alone follow her request. She's immediately aware of the change and lets up, finding his gaze with a seductive pout.
It's all he needs.
Whatever insecurities he has vanish in favour of primal desire and he takes her hand hauling them both up. "I want you-" he presses against her ear, taking the soft flesh between his teeth and her response is to push them back firmly towards the door.
He isn't deterred by the dominant streak and digs his nails firmly into her flesh, daring to be as close to her as possible.
Perhaps it isn't turning out to be the dance they were expecting but with the spirit of Christmas behind her intentions, he decides to buy into tradition.
After all, there's nothing wrong with giving a little earlier this year.