Chapter Text
"You're pretty good at dancing, mate." Phil commented idly, leaned up against the door frame of their kitchen.
Missa glanced back at him over his shoulder, only a little startled. It was dark outside, late when they'd finally gotten home, the company of the other doing a lot to alleviate what Missa knew would likely be an entirely silent house. It'd been eerie to step inside after Phil had explained everything that had happened, had explained that their children had been missing for weeks now.
The silence was especially loud, following the party they'd just returned from.
He could see the strain Phil was under even from a distance- dark circles and haggard lines that had been disguised under the sporadic light of the near-constant fireworks. Before he'd realized that Missa had been entirely out of the loop, it'd been a fun night, clearly a break that everyone needed, including Phil. Even now his tone seemed almost desperate, searching to fill in the small silence that had settled between them as Missa cleaned up a bit, keeping himself busy.
"Oh, you know." he said, trying to buy himself enough time to come up with something more concrete and intelligible to say. "I think Roier was better but- it was fun, si? I haven't been to a party like that in forever."
"It was nice." Phil agreed, his foot lightly scuffing across the hardwood floor, newly freed wings flicking out behind him- they'd grown since Missa had last seen them, though clearly not quite enough to support Phil in flight. Some feathers were sticking out at odd angles that made Missa's fingers itch with the urge to reach out and sooth them. "I got a fuck ton of pictures of everyone and like... all the decorations and shit. For whenever we..."
"We'll get them back." Missa said when Phil couldn't quite manage. "And then we can do it all over again, just for them."
"Right." Phil said ruefully, a wry grin already tugging on the corner of his mouth. He wasn't quite looking at Missa. Everything about him seemed tired, worn thin in a way that made Missa ache.
And... maybe it was how late it was, or all of the information that had been dumped on him at once, thoroughly frying his brain, but he found himself reaching out before he could catch himself. His fingers threaded with the hand Phil had rested against his own bicep, tugging him further into the kitchen with as genuine a smile as he could muster. Phil went easily, arms unwinding from where they'd been wrapped around himself, turning to Missa like a flower seeking the sunlight, and that hurt too, a little bit.
To see Philza looking so lost, so desperate, returning Missa's grip hard enough that it almost hurt.
"Should we practice?" Missa offered gently, catching Phil's other hand and holding them in the space between them. "I bet Tallulah would like to learn this, right?"
"Yeah, she'd-" Phil hesitated, just a moment, eyes dropping to Missa's feet as he took a step back and then forward, giving Phil enough space to slowly follow the motion. One, two, step-step-step, a simple little rhythm to start with. "She'd- she'd come up with a whole new song just to dance to, probably."
"Get me on the guitar and you on the maracas." Missa listed, half sing-song as he stepped forward again, and then back, hips swiveling slightly as they worked up a rhythm. "And we'd be so busy making music that we'll forget we're supposed to be dancing at all."
"Guess we gotta get our steps in now."
"Sí, claro." Missa said, mid shuffle as Phil attempted to follow along, though he was clearly not very used to using his hips. "Mira, you've already got the steps down!"
"It's not like it's hard." Phil taunted and Missa grinned a bit at his bite, pushing them away by the tension between their hands before spinning Phil under one arm. He stumbled slightly, clearly surprised, but managed to catch himself with a laugh. "Okay, well that's not very fair."
"Did I say I was being fair, Philza?"
"I mean, if you're supposed to be teaching me-"
"Ah-ah-ah, who said anything about teaching? We are practicing. Together!"
"Okay, then this practice session has officially reaching 'shit i do not know' territory, in which case you should be fuckin' teaching me." Phil retorted easily, this time lifting his own arm in an attempt to spin Missa around. He laughed when Missa followed suit, wiggling back before pulling them both close again with the tension between them, lacing his fingers with Phil's free hand as he rocked them back again. "Jesus, you're too good at this. You a secret professional I don't know about?"
"I would be the disgrace of all weddings and quinceañeras I attend if I couldn't do this much." Missa said haughtily, matching Phil's grin for one of his own. "That'll be another thing to look forward to, for Tallulah. We could probably do a little dance party for her too, for her birthdays, make sure you're getting enough practice."
"Not a bad idea." Phil said thoughtfully, though he scoffed as he stumbled over the next step, his weight pressing into Missa's arms before he righted himself. "Yeah, definitely not a bad idea, I need to at least be able to keep up if she asks me to dance."
"We'll probably have to teach her too." Missa said, a little more solemnly with the thought of how much he was missing out on. But still, they were trying for levity now, and he definitely wasn't going to be the one to bring down the mood if he could help it. "Chayanne too! Warriors need to be able to win dance battles and real ones."
"I'm sure he'll be stoked there's another way he can fight things." Phil chuckled. "I can already fucking see it, like a rehashing of those first few days where he just wanted to fucking kill everything."
Missa laughed, and Phil joined, neither of them paying much mind to how their rhythmic steps had turned into a simple rocking back and forth, both holding the other close as they lazily spun in the middle of their otherwise empty kitchen.
It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was good enough for now.