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"Eyes up here, Sawamura."
He reacted at once to the elastic tug of command, gaze snapping up from where it had been trying to peek at their feet and fixing instead on Kazuya's face. For a hairsbreadth of a second Sawamura relaxed, almost catching onto the proper rhythm, but then stiffness seized his limbs again and his steps were half a beat off, the rise and fall of his heels too sharp and abrupt. Every thought that crossed his mind appeared plain as day on his tight expression: every one-two-three count, every back-and-forth of his feet, every quarter rotation to the left. They hadn't gotten to the underarm turns yet.
"You're thinking too much. Don't worry about being precise, that's my job. You just have to follow."
"I know!" Sawamura hissed, fingers digging into Kazuya's arm. "I'm trying to concentrate!"
"Like I said…" On the next rotation he pulled Sawamura a little too hard, just enough to make him stumble out of step, and instead of waiting for him to adjust Kazuya kept on going. He led them around in measured circles, serving up an unapologetic grin when he was met with a betrayed glare.
"You did that on purpose!"
Kazuya did everything on purpose, and not always for the reasons people assumed. He leveled a smirk at his dancing partner. "Try and keep up with me."
The look on Sawamura's face turned to one of near-comical outrage and Kazuya let the corner of his mouth tick upward some more. He could practically feel Sawamura vibrating under his hand. The thoughts mirrored in too-big, too-bright eyes were all variations of tanuki bastard! and I'll show you!
Easy and predictable, and exactly what Kazuya wanted. No more counting beats, no more watching his steps, Sawamura continued to glare for all he was worth and followed Kazuya's lead with too much gusto, but he'd lost the stiffness. It was a start.
His posture was good, shoulders straight and chest out. He was putting too much power in his movements, but they came naturally now that he wasn't thinking about it, and he hadn't yet trod over Kazuya's toes. They still weren't quite in sync, and Sawamura was definitely the type that was difficult to slow down once he got going.
Kazuya couldn't turn down a challenge though. "Not bad," he hazarded, and almost spoiled his efforts by laughing at the mistrust slanting across Sawamura's features. Ah, that was no good. He couldn't expect his partner to follow him if he wasn't trusted. "You almost have it," he said. "Slow down a little. Here, now match to me."
A shade of concentration seeped back into Sawamura's eyes. They wavered, dipping low.
"No, don't look at your feet. Your body knows what it's doing. Focus on me." He held Sawamura's gaze, its willfulness melting down but still burning brightly, warm and primed and malleable. Ready to be shaped under just the right touch. He drew in when Kazuya pulled him back, crested up on his toes, and ebbed down with the beat to flow into the next step.
Now they were properly dancing, gliding through the gentle swing and sway of the waltz. Sawamura would never be a technical master, any matter of degree and precision would be lost on him, but he had the feel of it now, and that was where he came alive. He responded to the light press of Kazuya's hand and fell right in line with the music, immersing in it, sweeping along with the rhythm in a way that was part instinct and had little to do with guidance.
Honestly, he has more talent for this than I do.
Kazuya was good at leading; he was good at inviting someone else and adapting around them. He could set up his partner to hit that sweet spot in the beat of the music every time, letting them fall and turn and rest without worry in his arms. He wasn't too good at following, at surrendering, whether it was to another person or to something as simple as a song.
Sawamura was attuned enough to be good at both. With some more practice.
On a whim Kazuya lifted their clasped hands and guided Sawamura under the arc they formed in a clockwise turn, smoothly executed as if they'd planned it, and brought him back to the basic pattern without missing a step.
"Good," Kazuya murmured with a low thrum of satisfaction pulsing through his veins, and Sawamura's answering smile was a slow-dawning sunrise to mark his accomplishment. Pleased with himself, but not overly so, in which case Kazuya let him rest easy with the earned compliment. He was quiet like this, and the moment was too rare to spoil.
At some point the music stopped but the beat went on in Kazuya's head, in his chest, pounding one-two-three, one-two-three as he led Sawamura across the floor, and Sawamura followed without question, echoing the same rhythm.