The Last Dance
Title : The Last Dance
One-shot from prompt last #8 15memories
Pairing : Ruki/Uruha
Genre: fluff, tiny angst, implied smut
Warning : the usual - swearing, sexual imagery, malexmale relationship
Rating : 15
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, it’s all just fiction - I’m so miffed about that!
Summary : The last dance of the evening has a painful place in Ruki’s memories
I hated it at school. That awkward moment at the end of a school dance when the lights would dim and mellow and the first notes of a slow song would begin. All those furtive glances and fumbling steps as the bodies came together, pushing up against each other, grinding in time to the heartbroken cries of some R&B starlet. The guys wondering how far they’d get with their wandering hands. The girls already planning a long romantic relationship. The teachers stalking through the heated throng, forcibly separating any pair who went too far.
I hated it because I never danced, not to the last song.
I was always one of those standing on the edge of the crowd, scowling at the swaying couples, deeply envious but desperately trying to look cool and like I didn’t care. Like I didn’t give a fuck and it was all so far beneath me it was laughable. Mucking around with my mates, the other geeks and punks and losers, causing as much aggro on the edge of the dance floor: a freshly swept gym, how romantic! Shouting encouragement and catcalls to those we knew in the tangle of slowly shifting limbs. Doing anything we could in fact to disturb their perfect romantic moment.
I’d be laughing so hard by the end, doubled-up, unable to breathe, but walking home in the moonlight, on my own, no one to hold, I’d feel so lonely and so twisted with envy.
I wanted it so badly. I wanted that perfect someone. I wanted that last dance, but it never happened.
Maybe there was no one I liked, well, not enough to make an effort for, not enough to humiliate myself by walking across that hard gym floor and asking them if they would dance with me. And if I did like someone, really like them, then there was no way in hell I was even going to talk to them in the first place. I couldn’t.
So, year after year, Summer Dance, Winter Dance, New Year’s Dance, Leaver’s Ball, Sports Club Social, whatever, there I stood at the edge of it all, heart aching in time with the soulful tune, knowing it would never be me on the dance floor with my arms around someone, my body pressed against theirs, swaying together to the music.
Years later I’m in a club with the rest of the band. It’s been a good night, we’ve had a few drinks and more than a few laughs. We’ve danced like we’re insane, shaking our heads and hips to pounding rock music. We’ve eyed up the girls and the boys around us. All in all I was thinking it had been a near-perfect evening.
It’s getting late and we’re starting to talk of heading home when the tempo of the music changes - a ballad, plaintive strings, mournful guitars, a subtle understated bass rhythm that seems to mirror my heartbeat. Glancing round I realise the lights have dimmed, the flashing kaleidoscope of earlier replaced with muted blues and reds. Couples are moving into each other’s arms, a look across the dance floor that had earlier been one of interest and flirtation suddenly imbued with longing and the promise of comfort and warmth.
My stomach twists in remembered pain, a wave of loneliness washing an icy cold through my body. The last dance of the night and still, I have no one.
That’s when I realise you’re looking at me, Uruha, your eyes half-lidded, your plump cupid bow lips parted slightly. I know you’re drunk as you lean towards me but I am too, so when you say ‘Dance with me, Ruki.’ I simply take your hand and lead you to the middle of the dance floor.
You wrap your arms around my neck, closing the distance between us, your hips swaying to the music, brushing yourself against me. I place my hands on your waist and pull you tighter.
We’re moving together and it feels so good.
Despite the difference in our heights you let your head fall down to my shoulder, your breath against my ear as you whisper the words of the song.
‘Always to be next to you, always with you.’
I don’t know the song. I don’t pay much attention to pop music, especially not slushy, sappy ballads, but this song feels different. The words strike a chord in my heart and I bury my face in your beautifully soft hair, breathing you into my soul.
'To love like this forever, always with you.'
We’re both aroused now. I can feel your erection against my hipbone, and I know you can feel mine. We’re moving our hips together slowly, in time with the music, and the friction is delicious.
I know I’m going to take you home tonight and I’m going to make love with you. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time but I’ve never had the courage to approach you. I wasn’t sure until now that you’d accept me.
You’re so beautiful, Uruha, like an angel, and I can hardly believe you’re here in my arms. You’ve given me something so precious tonight. You’ve given me my dream of that perfect last dance. I never thought it would happen to me. I’d given up hope a long time ago. I’ll never forget this feeling and I’ll thank you for it for the rest of my life.
One thing I know for sure, as you nestle closer to my ear and whisper, ‘I love you, Ruki’ this is the last dance of the night but it won’t be my last dance with you.
A/N: it began as angst, honest, but then I realised I was suffering from a fluff overload!
One-shot from prompt last #8 15memories
Pairing : Ruki/Uruha
Genre: fluff, tiny angst, implied smut
Warning : the usual - swearing, sexual imagery, malexmale relationship
Rating : 15
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, it’s all just fiction - I’m so miffed about that!
Summary : The last dance of the evening has a painful place in Ruki’s memories
I hated it at school. That awkward moment at the end of a school dance when the lights would dim and mellow and the first notes of a slow song would begin. All those furtive glances and fumbling steps as the bodies came together, pushing up against each other, grinding in time to the heartbroken cries of some R&B starlet. The guys wondering how far they’d get with their wandering hands. The girls already planning a long romantic relationship. The teachers stalking through the heated throng, forcibly separating any pair who went too far.
I hated it because I never danced, not to the last song.
I was always one of those standing on the edge of the crowd, scowling at the swaying couples, deeply envious but desperately trying to look cool and like I didn’t care. Like I didn’t give a fuck and it was all so far beneath me it was laughable. Mucking around with my mates, the other geeks and punks and losers, causing as much aggro on the edge of the dance floor: a freshly swept gym, how romantic! Shouting encouragement and catcalls to those we knew in the tangle of slowly shifting limbs. Doing anything we could in fact to disturb their perfect romantic moment.
I’d be laughing so hard by the end, doubled-up, unable to breathe, but walking home in the moonlight, on my own, no one to hold, I’d feel so lonely and so twisted with envy.
I wanted it so badly. I wanted that perfect someone. I wanted that last dance, but it never happened.
Maybe there was no one I liked, well, not enough to make an effort for, not enough to humiliate myself by walking across that hard gym floor and asking them if they would dance with me. And if I did like someone, really like them, then there was no way in hell I was even going to talk to them in the first place. I couldn’t.
So, year after year, Summer Dance, Winter Dance, New Year’s Dance, Leaver’s Ball, Sports Club Social, whatever, there I stood at the edge of it all, heart aching in time with the soulful tune, knowing it would never be me on the dance floor with my arms around someone, my body pressed against theirs, swaying together to the music.
Years later I’m in a club with the rest of the band. It’s been a good night, we’ve had a few drinks and more than a few laughs. We’ve danced like we’re insane, shaking our heads and hips to pounding rock music. We’ve eyed up the girls and the boys around us. All in all I was thinking it had been a near-perfect evening.
It’s getting late and we’re starting to talk of heading home when the tempo of the music changes - a ballad, plaintive strings, mournful guitars, a subtle understated bass rhythm that seems to mirror my heartbeat. Glancing round I realise the lights have dimmed, the flashing kaleidoscope of earlier replaced with muted blues and reds. Couples are moving into each other’s arms, a look across the dance floor that had earlier been one of interest and flirtation suddenly imbued with longing and the promise of comfort and warmth.
My stomach twists in remembered pain, a wave of loneliness washing an icy cold through my body. The last dance of the night and still, I have no one.
That’s when I realise you’re looking at me, Uruha, your eyes half-lidded, your plump cupid bow lips parted slightly. I know you’re drunk as you lean towards me but I am too, so when you say ‘Dance with me, Ruki.’ I simply take your hand and lead you to the middle of the dance floor.
You wrap your arms around my neck, closing the distance between us, your hips swaying to the music, brushing yourself against me. I place my hands on your waist and pull you tighter.
We’re moving together and it feels so good.
Despite the difference in our heights you let your head fall down to my shoulder, your breath against my ear as you whisper the words of the song.
‘Always to be next to you, always with you.’
I don’t know the song. I don’t pay much attention to pop music, especially not slushy, sappy ballads, but this song feels different. The words strike a chord in my heart and I bury my face in your beautifully soft hair, breathing you into my soul.
'To love like this forever, always with you.'
We’re both aroused now. I can feel your erection against my hipbone, and I know you can feel mine. We’re moving our hips together slowly, in time with the music, and the friction is delicious.
I know I’m going to take you home tonight and I’m going to make love with you. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time but I’ve never had the courage to approach you. I wasn’t sure until now that you’d accept me.
You’re so beautiful, Uruha, like an angel, and I can hardly believe you’re here in my arms. You’ve given me something so precious tonight. You’ve given me my dream of that perfect last dance. I never thought it would happen to me. I’d given up hope a long time ago. I’ll never forget this feeling and I’ll thank you for it for the rest of my life.
One thing I know for sure, as you nestle closer to my ear and whisper, ‘I love you, Ruki’ this is the last dance of the night but it won’t be my last dance with you.
A/N: it began as angst, honest, but then I realised I was suffering from a fluff overload!