This fic is for Whitney, even though she'll probably never read it. She was
teaching me how to waltz before Chelsea's Christmas party, and let me tell
you, waltzing and swinging to Christmas music is one of the funniest things
I've ever done. We had a blast. So this is for Whitney, one of my best
friends.
"Trowa. It is a large social function. It is a formal situation. And I really hate to break it to you, but it _is_ the kind of party where you have to dance." The only response was a steady gaze. "Trowa! _Please_. Really. I just don't want you to be embarrassed by stepping on people's toes." A sigh. "Trowa? _Do_ you want me to teach you how to ballroom dance?" A drooping head. "Trowa?" A piercing emerald stare. Quatre extended his hand in a silent plea.
"Please." Trowa said this word as if his life depended on what happened next. He silently placed his own hand in Quatre's. the small blond started a slow waltz with the remote to the stereo, then helped Trowa place his hands. Then he swept the taller boy into the gentle dance.
/This isn't so bad,/ Trowa thought. He looked down at Quatre's blond head. His steps faltered as he realized Quatre was leading the dance.
"Ow." There was a small pout on the cherubic face as it turned up towards Trowa. "Trowa, it hurts when you step on someone's foot. But whatever you do," Quatre cautioned, "_don't_ look at your feet. It gives someone a chance to attack you, and your partner might think you're shy." This was all said as the dance continued.
~A few hours later~
"That's good, Trowa! I think you're ready to lead now. Just reverse the steps." Trowa's hands were again placed on Quatre's slight body. And again the gentle music commenced.
~At the "Social function" Quatre mentioned before~
A hand fell lightly on Quatre's shoulder. A gentle voice asked, "May I have this dance?" Quatre turned to look up into Trowa's angular features. He smiled and place his hand in Trowa's. As he was lead to the dance floor, Trowa spoke.
"This time, _I_ lead." Quatre danced at the memory of having his feet stepped on repeatedly.
As the two boys swept into the waltz, every eye was on their natural grace. No feet were stepped on.
/I'm glad I didn't tell him I already knew how to dance./
/I'm glad he didn't mention he knew how to dance./
Almost imperceptibly, the two boys moved towards each other.
Aw! Yay!
"Trowa. It is a large social function. It is a formal situation. And I really hate to break it to you, but it _is_ the kind of party where you have to dance." The only response was a steady gaze. "Trowa! _Please_. Really. I just don't want you to be embarrassed by stepping on people's toes." A sigh. "Trowa? _Do_ you want me to teach you how to ballroom dance?" A drooping head. "Trowa?" A piercing emerald stare. Quatre extended his hand in a silent plea.
"Please." Trowa said this word as if his life depended on what happened next. He silently placed his own hand in Quatre's. the small blond started a slow waltz with the remote to the stereo, then helped Trowa place his hands. Then he swept the taller boy into the gentle dance.
/This isn't so bad,/ Trowa thought. He looked down at Quatre's blond head. His steps faltered as he realized Quatre was leading the dance.
"Ow." There was a small pout on the cherubic face as it turned up towards Trowa. "Trowa, it hurts when you step on someone's foot. But whatever you do," Quatre cautioned, "_don't_ look at your feet. It gives someone a chance to attack you, and your partner might think you're shy." This was all said as the dance continued.
~A few hours later~
"That's good, Trowa! I think you're ready to lead now. Just reverse the steps." Trowa's hands were again placed on Quatre's slight body. And again the gentle music commenced.
~At the "Social function" Quatre mentioned before~
A hand fell lightly on Quatre's shoulder. A gentle voice asked, "May I have this dance?" Quatre turned to look up into Trowa's angular features. He smiled and place his hand in Trowa's. As he was lead to the dance floor, Trowa spoke.
"This time, _I_ lead." Quatre danced at the memory of having his feet stepped on repeatedly.
As the two boys swept into the waltz, every eye was on their natural grace. No feet were stepped on.
/I'm glad I didn't tell him I already knew how to dance./
/I'm glad he didn't mention he knew how to dance./
Almost imperceptibly, the two boys moved towards each other.
Aw! Yay!