Dance Dance
Title: Dance Dance
Rating: PG to be on the safe side.
Universe: Marvel Comics, Young Avengers
Summery: Billy is the king of Dance Dance Revolution.
"You really suck at this." Billy said, leaging against a Mortal Kombat machine.
"I'm white," Teddy shot back. "I'm not supposed to know how to dance."
"That is a totally false racial stereotype. And besides, you're gay. Gay guys are supposed to know how to dance."
"bet you can't do any better than me."
"Bet I can."
"Ten bucks?"
"You're on. Step aside, oh graceless wonder." Billy shoved two tokens into the machine and vaulted the rail as Teddy climbed down. The machine started pumping out some horribly catchy disco tune as the screen told Billy to get ready to shake his booty. Teddy grabbed a bench and sat down as it started giving out directions, which Billy began to match. Perfectly.
No. Not perfectly, Teddy realized. Better. It was one thing to move your feet where the game told you to. What Billy was doing, letting the music whip his slender body in a flurry of graceful action, that was art. His feet moved swiftly, barely touching the platform as he flowed from one postion to the next. His body undulated to the rhythem, and sweat made him glow in the flashing lights.
The machine called out encoragement as Teddy stared, transfixed, at his boyfriend. His mouth went dry as Billy exicuted a move that would have given many people pause, as it required more flexibility than most people seemed to have.
The music came to it's dramatic end, and Billy struck a provocative pose, chest heaving from the exertion. He flashed Teddy a grin and climbed down, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "So?" he asked, standing in front of the taller blond.
"Best ten dollars I ever spent." Teddy announced.
Rating: PG to be on the safe side.
Universe: Marvel Comics, Young Avengers
Summery: Billy is the king of Dance Dance Revolution.
"You really suck at this." Billy said, leaging against a Mortal Kombat machine.
"I'm white," Teddy shot back. "I'm not supposed to know how to dance."
"That is a totally false racial stereotype. And besides, you're gay. Gay guys are supposed to know how to dance."
"bet you can't do any better than me."
"Bet I can."
"Ten bucks?"
"You're on. Step aside, oh graceless wonder." Billy shoved two tokens into the machine and vaulted the rail as Teddy climbed down. The machine started pumping out some horribly catchy disco tune as the screen told Billy to get ready to shake his booty. Teddy grabbed a bench and sat down as it started giving out directions, which Billy began to match. Perfectly.
No. Not perfectly, Teddy realized. Better. It was one thing to move your feet where the game told you to. What Billy was doing, letting the music whip his slender body in a flurry of graceful action, that was art. His feet moved swiftly, barely touching the platform as he flowed from one postion to the next. His body undulated to the rhythem, and sweat made him glow in the flashing lights.
The machine called out encoragement as Teddy stared, transfixed, at his boyfriend. His mouth went dry as Billy exicuted a move that would have given many people pause, as it required more flexibility than most people seemed to have.
The music came to it's dramatic end, and Billy struck a provocative pose, chest heaving from the exertion. He flashed Teddy a grin and climbed down, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "So?" he asked, standing in front of the taller blond.
"Best ten dollars I ever spent." Teddy announced.