Chapter Text
"You cannot keep calling rock music 'modern poetry'”, Crowley whines in an annoyed tone: “You simply cannot! It is impossible! Nobody, not a single person would say that!”
Aziraphale looks a bit put out. “But you cannot deny the fact”, he says in a precise voice: “That the lyrics are very poetic in many cases and they do rhyme more often than not!” Crowley groans. “Just because it is a different format, does not make it less poetic”, Aziraphale adds.
“Well, I'd like to see you at a rock concert, meeting the band and congratulating them on their poetry! Let's see how that goes, Angel.” Crowley's voice has achieved a new hight of sarcasm that he is particularly proud of when suddenly he realises that Aziraphale is no longer walking beside him.
With an elegant spin, he turns around to find that the angel in question has stopped in front of what appears to be a shop window. With a few sauntering steps he is right beside him. “What is it?”, he asks, looking over Aziraphale's shoulder and nearly touching it with his chin.
The angel doesn't startle, he simply shoots him a quick glance before returning his attention to the window. “See that?”, he asks and points at a note that is stuck to the glass from the inside. It reads as follows:
Classical Dancing Lessons for Beginners!
Come and Discover Your Love for Dancing! Every Tuesday at 6 PM.
All Ages Welcome!
On the note there are some drawings of people dancing who are apparently discovering their love for it. “Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?”, Aziraphale asks with a dreamy expression: “I haven't danced in literal centuries!”
Crowley stares at the dancing figures who are all smiling, holding hands as well as each other. Suddenly, he feels a tingle in his spine. “I don't know...”, he says, but it seems that Aziraphale has already made up his mind.
“Come on, my dear, let's try it. I'm sure it will be great fun!” His eyes are sparkling and the smile on his face is so bright. How can Crowley say no?
They walk into the sunlit building. Right opposite the entrance there is a great dancing hall with one wall consisting only of mirrors and another of windows, which makes Crowley adjust his sunglasses a bit on his nose. Around the corner on the right there is a little reception desk behind which a woman sits. She smiles warmly as they approach her.
“Hello and good afternoon!”, she exclaims once they have reached her: “What can I do for you?” She is in her mid thirties with long, dark hair that she has tied together in the back.
“Good afternoon!”, Aziraphale answers politely: “We are here to inquire about the dancing lessons that are advertised in the window. The two of us”, he gestures between them: “Would like to try them out.” Crowley doesn't go for a fake smile, he just stares at her through his glasses.
The woman furrows her brows. “I am afraid we are all booked out”, she says: “Lots of spring weddings and people deciding to learn how to dance in advance. I'm very sorry but I think you have to find a different studio or come back later.”
Aziraphale doesn't seem discouraged. His smile remains in tact as he says: “Maybe you could just have a look again? In case something became available?”
The woman raises her brows but does as she is asked. After a quick look at her computer, a surprised expression appears on her face. “There seem to be two places in a dancing class tomorrow”, she says as if she could not believe it herself.
“Oh, how fortunate”, Aziraphale says innocently, that bastard. He shoots Crowley a quick glance who can't help but smile a bit.
“It is a couple's dance class”, the woman continues looking at them both questioningly: “If that is alright?”
“Perfectly alright!”, Aziraphale answers and Crowley can't help but wonder if the angel knows that in this context 'couple' means something different than just 'two people'. Crowley of course doesn't object.
They pay the fee and get a membership card in which the woman writes all the dates for the upcoming lessons. “I'm Marida by the way, I'm going to be your teacher tomorrow”, she says, extending her hand.
“Nice to meet you, I'm Aziraphale”, the angel answers politely. “And this is Crowley”, he adds as the demon makes no move to introduce himself. They all shake hands.
“Nice to meet you both”, she says with a smile: “And I'm looking forward to teaching you tomorrow! Please bring comfortable clothes. I know it doesn't seem like it, but dancing can get quite demanding.” Aziraphale promises they will and they both leave the studio.
“You didn't say a word in there”, Aziraphale observes after a moment: “Are you sure you want to try this?”
“Hmm...? Oh, yeah”, Crowley responds: “No, I do, 's gonna be fun.” Aziraphale looks a bit doubtful. “Last time I danced was in the 1970's. Can't have changed much”, Crowley adds.
***
When he is picked up the next day, Aziraphale is wearing exactly what he had been wearing the day before, just his usual trousers, shirt, waistcoat and jacket. Crowley on the other hand... “Oh...”, Aziraphale fortunately says very quietly so that he hopes the demon hasn't heard. But his open mouth, he had to notice.
“She said comfortable”, Crowley remarks nonchalant, striding into the bookshop with his usual swagger. He is wearing a thin, black long-sleeve with a v-neck that shows off his lanky and angular body pretty well, as well as his usual tight pants. His shoes have a bit of a heel.
Aziraphale isn't sure when he has last seen Crowley with only one layer of clothing on or if he ever has seen him like this. Suddenly, he feels inappropriate. “Maybe I should loose the coat...”, he mumbles but Crowley waves the remark away with a lazy gesture.
“Just come as you are, Angel. It doesn't matter really. Can we go now?”
Of course Crowley is right. It doesn't matter because neither of them sweat but Aziraphale decides to remove the coat anyway. Placing it on a hanger, he feels lighter somehow. “Let's go”, he says with a smile.
As they enter the dancing studio there is nobody at the reception but a sign points them directly to one of the halls. The moment they walk in (thanks to Crowley they are fashionably late but thanks to Aziraphale they have not missed any actual lesson time) all the other participants of the class, who have arrived before them, turn their heads and look at the newcomers. Some of them have expecting expressions, so in an instinctive move, Crowley takes Aziraphale's hand to signal to everyone that this dancing partner is definitely taken. The moment he realises this, Aziraphale's fingers are already squeezing back so there is really no use in withdrawing.
“Good to see you two!”, Marida says with a smile and a quick glance at the clock on one of the walls: “And almost on time.” Her smile has a wicked edge that removes the urge to apologise, at least in Crowley.
“We are very sorry”, Aziraphale responds but he uses that polite tone that he sometimes has when speaking to customers who have the audacity to try and buy a book.
Marida turns to look at everyone. “Now that we are all here, why don't we do a quick introduction?”, she proposes and there is a bit of a shuffle in the room as some people seem excited and more of them nervous. All in all there are eight couples. Three of them are not getting married. Going by what they are saying about themselves, they all seem normal and boring enough,. Then it is Crowley's and Aziraphale's turn. “Well, we are... It all began a long time ago...”, Aziraphale starts but is immediately cut off by Crowley.
“I'm Crowley, this is Aziraphale. He made me sign up”, he says with a quick gesture at the angel beside him: “So I hope this is worth it.”
There is a bit of chuckling and Marida smiles as well. “I certainly hope so too”, she adds. “So, now that we all know each other, why don't we start with the first dance and the basic steps? First, we will be learning the waltz, so get together with your partner and find a place in the room.”
They do as they are told, Crowley dragging Aziraphale to a spot as far away from the mirrors as possible. With the quick press of a button on a remote control, Marida switches on some music before she starts her instructions. “Now, the waltz has three basic steps, which I want you to practice on your own first. They are done in a one, two, three rhythm. You start by going forward with the left foot, then sideways with the right and then drag the left foot to the right one like this to close”, Marida shows the steps. “Forward, right, close. Then you do the same in the opposite direction. You go back with your right foot like this: Back, left, close. Forward, right close, back left close. This is the basic step. Everybody try it.”
Crowley stares. Aziraphale starts to move and slowly, Crowley does as well. After a moment, he seems to get the hang of it. “Alright”, Marida says, repeating the instructions: “Forward, right, close. Back, left, close... very good! You are doing good on your own! Now let's try dancing together! Stand in front of each other and the person who leads raises their left arm. Stretch your hand out flat like this and the person who follows puts their right hand on top like this.”
Aziraphale and Crowley face each other. Crowley hesitates. “Who is going to lead and who follows?”, he asks.
“I don't mind following”, Aziraphale replies happily, raising his right hand. Crowley presents his left arm and hand like it was shown and in the next moment, Aziraphale's palm is against his. He tries not to focus on the fact how warm Aziraphale's skin is and how comforting the touch.
“Now, whoever is leading, put your right hand on your partner's waist and whoever is following, put your hand on your partner's shoulder." They both do as they're told and suddenly Aziraphale wonders if he should have taken the vest off as well? The room feels slightly hot. They have never been this close, at least not in such a relaxed setting. Never in 6.000 years.
“Perfect!”, Marida continues: “So, now the person who is leading starts with a step forward, while the person who is following starts with a step back. Then you repeat what we have just practised. Try to keep in rhythm.”
“Alright”, Crowley mutters and takes a step that immediately results in him crashing against Aziraphale and stepping on his foot. Aziraphale huffs a bit and Crowley winces.
“The person who is leading”, Marida says with a smile in her voice: “Should give a sign when to start as to avoid collision.” Crowley's head snaps around to give her an angry stare, which is of course obstructed by the sunglasses. Nevertheless, his eyebrows disappearing behind them completely is a sign in and of itself.
“Alright then”, he tries again: “One, two three.” And they start, sort of. Crowley steps but he doesn't move his upper body, as if it were truly disconnected from his legs.
“Try turning a bit”, Marida says, clearly to the other, more talented students: “If you are comfortable with the steps, you can try using the space around you more.”
Crowley stumbles and steps on Aziraphale's foot again. He grits his teeth. “Crowley, dear, you have to lead me”, Aziraphale says quietly: “You have to indicate what I should do by moving and applying pressure to your hand. Just move me about.”
“Move then!”, Crowley hisses. He shoves against Aziraphale and nearly gets them both off balance.
Aziraphale falters and has to tighten his grip quite a bit in order not to fall. “This doesn't work”, he concludes, not frustrated but simply stating a fact: “Here, let me lead.”
Crowley sighs but he can't help but feel a bit relieved. They switch hands, Crowley now feeling the warmth of the angel's hand go from his shoulder to his ribcage, his own left palm brushing against the soft fabric of the beige vest. “Remember to begin with a step back”, Aziraphale reminds him, then he starts rocking his left hand up and down just a tad to indicate the rhythm of the music. “One, two, three”, he says and makes the first step, hands pushing just a bit, indicating the direction of the movement. Crowley moves. He follows the pressure, makes a step back then sideways, brings his foot in, moves forward. There is a slight pull on Aziraphale's part that shows him exactly where to go, how to follow. Crowley relaxes.
They move around like this for a while. Aziraphale eventually starts taking Marida's advice and they enter a circular motion. All this he does with just a bit of pressure here, a slight pull there. Crowley's body follows as if he had never done anything else. It just feels right, harmonious. His mind trails off, isn't focused on the steps any more but just on this feeling of moving with the music and with each other. The space between then seems to shrink automatically or did Aziraphale just pull him in a bit more?
“Very good!”, Marida says as she passes around the room and reaches them: “Seems like you are not such a lost cause after all! In fact you are doing very well.”
“Thank you!”, Aziraphale says with a beaming smile and immediately forgets to move but Crowley is so comfortable now that he just makes the step and pushes Aziraphale gently, to remind him to follow. “Oh”, the angel's smile widens as they proceed without incident. “Did you just lead me, Crowley?”, he asks delighted.
They continue, starting to dance circles around the room under Marida's instruction. In the end she shows them one more basic step to incorporate into the routine and encourages them to practice at home. As they leave, Aziraphale is not the only one smiling. “That was delightful!”, the angel says.
“Yeah...”, Crowley's voice is meant to be dismissive: “It was alright. Lunch?”
“Absolutely!”
When they separate later that day they make plans to meet tomorrow for practice.