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“Schlatt, please?” Wilbur asked. Schlatt rolled his eyes and stood up. He didn’t really want to do this, but he just couldn’t say no to Wilbur.
Wilbur wanted to dance. He was just in the mood, plain and simple. Schlatt never danced with him, he thought it was embarrassing. Said to ‘get that fluffy shit outta here’ whenever Wilbur would ask. This time, though, he said yes, walking over to him with a scowl as Wilbur put on some slow music.
Wilbur led their dance, as Schlatt wasn’t the best at it. Hand on the american’s waist, he led them in slow circles around the room. Stepping in time with the music, they made a rhythm together with their movements, together in sync, they could feel the closeness. Schlatt could see why the brit liked this so much.
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, around the room of their apartment, Wilbur spun Schlatt around, then spun him back into his arms, the latter suppressing a giggle. The music began going faster, slightly, and Wilbur led them faster to keep up. Schlatt was trying, but he kept on accidentally stepping on his boyfriend’s toes. When he looked up, Wilbur wasn’t frustrated for stepping on his toes, he was laughing at him.
The fucker was laughing at him. He couldn’t believe it. Schlatt put on the most offended face ever, but Wilbur just laughed harder.
God, his laughter was infectious. Schlatt couldn’t keep mad at him, even if it was mock anger. He began laughing, too. It was hard not to. Wilbur’s smile crinkled his eyes, and Schlatt smiled warmly back at him. Their laughter died down, and they stared into each other’s eyes, still waltzing around the room. Wilbur started to lean down to him, when Schlatt stepped on Wilbur’s foot again, making him erupt in laughter once again.
The serious dancing died then as the slow song faded in favor of something funkier. Schlatt took Wilbur’s hands and started moving them back and forth, having fun with it. They started spinning around faster, holding each other’s hands and leaning back, pulling away and pulling so close.
Schlatt grinned at Wilbur when a thought crossed his mind, a dark, shit-eating thing. He spun Wilbur around until the brit’s back was to the couch, then let go of his hands and watched him fall back into it with a grunt. Wilbur looked up at him from the couch in mock betrayal, and Schlatt laughed at him. Wilbur shot up and stalked towards him, a playful glare that had Schlatt withering.
“N-now, Wil, let’s think about this for a second…” Schlatt tried to bargain, but Wilbur ignored him, grabbing him around the waist when he suddenly tried to run away. Wilbur tickled him without mercy, the New Yorker collapsing to get away from him, wheezing out pained laughter as the brit tickled his sides. “No! No! Wil, I’m sorry,” he cried laughing, trying to push him away.
“I don’t think you are,” Wilbur chuckled as his boyfriend writhed.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, please- I can’t breathe-” Wilbur slowed his tickling, letting his hands simply rest on Schlatt’s sides as he caught his breath. The american looks up at him, looking so soft in the dim light. He slowly smiled at him, a soft, loving thing. Wilbur leaned down, cupping Schlatt’s face and kissing him gently.
The song changed, and Schlatt pulled away slightly. “Did you want to dance to this one, too?”
“Yeah, I like this song,” Wilbur replied. They got up off the ground and the brit pulled Schlatt close to him, keeping the closeness, the intimacy of the kiss they just shared without their lips having to touch. They both wrapped their arms around the other’s waist, swaying to the music.
Schlatt leaned into him, putting his head on Wilbur’s shoulder and relaxing into the embrace. Wilbur can’t help the smile that comes as he leans against his head against Schlatt’s. They swayed, rocked back and forth in time with the music, humming each other’s praises.
They were content.