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“Wil!” Wilbur groaned as he heard his father’s voice through the closed door of the main practice room. “Can you come to the front once you’re done practicing?”
Looking significantly annoyed, he walked over to the carpeted area of the floor near the door to take off his hard shoes. He was most likely in trouble for goofing around with Schlatt during practice time earlier, and scuffing up the floors of the front room definitely wouldn’t help.
Wilbur padded out to the front desk in his socks, already dreading the lecture he was about to get. He could picture it in his mind already:
“What were you thinking?!” Phil would say, his eyebrow raised like it always was when Wilbur was getting yelled at. “You’re 15 years old! You should know better than to do something like this. You have a feis to win in June! Practice time is not the time to be goofing off.”
Wow; even in his imagination, Phil was scary.
Upon reaching the front desk, Wilbur braced himself for the inevitable yelling. Shockingly, though, he didn’t hear it.
“Why are you pulling that face, mate?” Phil paused, looking at Wilbur. “You alright?”
Wilbur was shocked. If it wasn’t to yell at him, then why did Phil pull him out here?
“Yea, I’m fine, Dad. What did you need?” Wilbur said, doing his best to suck up. He was going to the mall with his whole group of friends tomorrow, and he couldn’t afford to be grounded before that.
“I have a kid coming in for a private in…” Phil checked his watch. “About ten minutes, but I have a bit of paperwork to do right now about some other kid wanting to join up.” Phil looked a bit sheepish, concerning Wilbur even more. Phil continued, “Would you mind covering his lesson for a bit? It’ll only be about an hour and a half before I’m done. ”
Wilbur did the only thing he could think of to save his ass if he got caught.
“Sure thing, Dadza! I’m on it!” Wilbur exclaimed, smiling. He even added a thumbs up for good measure, which made Phil look at him suspiciously.
“Alright, as long as you’re not,” Phil gave him a look, “ up to anything.”
Wilbur’s smile widened. Why would he be?
Phil dismissed his concern, continuing his request. “He’s only been here about a month, but he transferred from another studio – one of the best for his age group, I’m pretty sure. He’s working on his reel right now.” Phil gave Wilbur a warm smile. “I think you’ll have fun.”
Already, Wilbur was planning the lesson out in his mind; or at least, trying to. He nodded, giving an “okay” before looking at his watch.
7:25.
Wilbur cursed under his breath, “Shit, I gotta get ready!” before rushing into the main practice room to get his soft shoes on. Through the door, Wilbur heard Phil pick up the phone.
After finally getting himself ready for the lesson, Wilbur sighed.
This would be a long hour and a half.
-♡-
5 minutes passed, and the kid hadn’t shown up.
It wasn’t exactly not normal; people were people, and some people were late. It didn’t worry Wilbur, so instead of sitting around doing nothing, waiting for someone to show up, Wilbur decided it was time to review some of his own steps. If he wasn’t teaching this kid, he may as well have a bit of extra practice time.
Now, Wilbur was good for his age, that much was known. Of course, most of that can be attributed to his father’s teachings, but at a certain point you had to give Wilbur some credit.
Right?
Wilbur did everything with elegance, grace, and poise. His dances were always advanced, something his father constantly stressed. Though, as surprising as it was, he wasn’t typically met with compliments. That was either because there were dancers who were easily better than him, or due to his father being a teacher, it wasn’t very impressive. It could’ve even been because he didn’t dance in front of many people.
Wilbur wasn’t quite sure, and honestly, he didn’t really care. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he didn’t have a few people telling him how good he was.
(Though Wilbur said otherwise, for him, it was. A little voice of his would say he deserved to be praised for his dedication, especially compared to how many compliments Technoblade got. Wilbur pushed it to the back of his mind)
Wilbur stopped for a moment, looking at his watch: the kid was 10 minutes late. Wilbur shrugged to himself as he got back in position to start his next step.
Wilbur was halfway through the step when a boy with bright blue eyes and golden hair fell through the door, cursing in the process. Wilbur snorted.
“Nice vocabulary you got there, kid,” Wilbur said, grinning playfully. He became amused at the kid’s embarrassed expression. “Do you have a name, or should I keep calling you kid? Up to you.” He teased.
“It’s Tommy,” Tommy said, looking just about ready to start stomping his feet on the ground. “And I’m not a kid, I’m a big man! The biggest, actually.” Tommy looked smug.
“Oh, is that right?” Wilbur asked. “Do you even know what those words mean? You are, of course, just an itty-bitty baby.” He was having fun teasing Tommy.
“I hate you!” Tommy declared, slamming the door shut. “You’re a bitch,” He seemed to decide, glaring at Wilbur. Wilbur only laughed.
Wilbur asked with a smile, “Is that why you were watching me through the door?”
Tommy flushed, red.
“You’re just- bad at dancing! I was laughing at you!” Tommy tried to defend himself, yet Wilbur could see the crimson creeping up his cheeks.
Phil must’ve heard the arguing, as he soon came into the room, along with Tommy’s mother. She looked around the room, seemingly mesmerized. Phil spoke first.
“This is my son, Wilbur,” Wilbur went over to shake her hand. “He’ll be teaching Tommy for most of his class today. He’s been in the studio since he was a baby, and,” Phil chuckled, looking at Wilbur. “He's probably a better dancer than I am.”
Wilbur’s cheeks burned a bit at the praise. “I’ll be in for probably the last half hour, but I assure you, your son is in safe hands with Wilbur,” Phil continued to speak, gesturing to him. Wilbur nodded.
Once Tommy’s mother and Phil left, Wilbur spoke to Tommy again.
“Go get your bag, gremlin. You can’t dance in your light up sketchers,” Wilbur teased again. Tommy rolled his eyes and retrieved his bag from the front room where his mother had left it.
-♡-
Once Tommy put his soft shoes on and stretched, Wilbur began their lesson.
“I’ve heard you’ve already gotten your other steps down?” Wilbur asked the boy. Tommy nodded in response, beaming. He had apparently calmed down since he first fell into the room.
“Mhm! I’m the biggest man there is! The only dancer to ever exist!” Tommy exclaimed.
“Wow. That’s impressive, especially for a tiny little baby like you,” Wilbur teased, grinning. Tommy sputtered in response.
“I am not a baby! I’m a big man! In fact, you can call me Big T.” Tommy exclaimed, almost yelling.
“No one’s gonna call a little baby like you Big T,” Wilbur said. He found the kid almost endearing, even if he was loud. “We have to get back to work,” Wilbur said. “Anyways, I’m gonna teach you a new step, but it’s a little bit advanced from what you’ve probably been doing. You think you’re ready?”
“I’ve been ready!” Tommy declared, excited. Wilbur walked over to the music player and put a disc in. He let the music play while he explained what he was going to do.
“I’m gonna demonstrate it to you, and then you’ll try it, okay?” Wilbur said, getting into position.
“You got it, bossman!” Tommy said, sitting down on the carpeted area to watch Wilbur dance.
Wilbur started the step. It was a simple reel, one he learned when he was eight. In the big mirror in the front of the room, he could see Tommy’s eyes scrutinizing every move he made. Somehow, Wilbur felt small under the judgemental eyes of a six-year-old. He switched to his other foot, completing the step with ease and grace.
After he finished, he turned off the music and called Tommy up off the floor. Tommy looked at him, unimpressed. Wilbur was confused.
“You call that advanced, big man?” Tommy crossed his arms, smug. “I can do that from memory.”
Wilbur raised an eyebrow, walking over to turn the music back on. “Oh, you can? Go ahead, then.” Wilbur turned, facing Tommy. Wilbur watched him closely, expecting him to mess up. He was only a kid, after all.
Tommy got into position and started the step.
Wilbur was surprised – it was perfect. Well, perfect was a slight overstatement. His technique could use some work, sure, but overall, this kid was good .
When Tommy finished, he turned around to see Wilbur staring at him, his mouth slightly open from shock. Tommy’s expression turned confused.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You look like a fish,” To prove his point, Tommy imitated Wilbur’s face, making fish noises along the way.
Wilbur rolled his eyes, though the bite behind them didn’t seem to exist.
“Phil wasn’t kidding when he said you were a fast learner,” Wilbur said, obviously impressed. Tommy flushed crimson under the praise. Wilbur began once more, bearing a smile. “I guess I’ll have to teach you something a little bit harder.”
Giving Tommy a moment to sit down and drink some water, Wilbur demonstrated the next step. It was one he learned when he was 12, twice as old as Tommy and even more skilled. Akin to an experiment, Wilbur was excited to see if Tommy would be able to perfect it; it would be a great move to showcase and perform if he did.
It might’ve been a bit of an overshot, since Wilbur was six years older than Tommy when he learned it, but Wilbur believed Tommy could do it. When Wilbur finished, he turned around to look at Tommy.
Needless to say, Tommy looked awestruck.
Wilbur smiled, giving away the unharming nature of his jokes. “Well, get up, then! You wanna learn this step or not?” Wilbur asked. He considered, too, not wanting to put Tommy in a difficult position unwillingly. “Can you do it, or do you think I need to teach you?”
“I think…” Tommy paused for just a moment, finding his words. “I think you need to teach me a bit first.” Even though Wilbur had prompted the request, Tommy looked almost ashamed, concerning Wilbur. Since when were kids embarrassed that they couldn’t learn steps from memory the moment they saw it? He vowed to bring it up with Phil later, though right now, he had to worry about teaching Tommy this step.
Wilbur got in position to teach Tommy the dance, gesturing for Tommy to do the same.
“Okay, so.” Wilbur demonstrated, watching Tommy follow his step. “First, you’re gonna point your foot out, and bring it up to your knee.” Wilbur felt slightly amused at how eager Tommy was to learn – the kid practically glared at him, bearing holes through his head with the intensity of his stare in an attempt to visually learn. Good for him, Wilbur guessed.
Wilbur didn’t notice how fast time was going by as he taught Tommy the rest of the step. At a certain point, Tommy had gotten down the moves plenty, and all there was to work on were the smaller bits, less noticeable but equally as important; his technique. Wilbur stood by the wall, watching Tommy complete his step for the third time in a row.
“Turnout!” Wilbur called, smirking at Tommy’s response. He was so busy with the lesson that he didn’t notice that Phil had walked in.
After Tommy had finished his step on both feet, Wilbur hurried over to turn the music off so Phil could start the last part of Tommy’s lesson.
From what Wilbur could see as he was packing up his things into his bag, Phil was proud.
“Wow,” Phil said, smiling warmly at Tommy. “You learned that in a day? That’s impressive.”
Tommy beamed at the praise.
“We should get started on one of your other steps before our lesson ends. Go get some water so we can begin.” Phil said, before turning to Wilbur. Tommy followed his command as Phil continued. “You should go home, Wil. I know you usually stay later, but you worked hard today. Let your body rest.”
Wilbur internally sighed, taking off his dance shoes. He wanted to argue, but Wilbur knew Phil wouldn’t budge, and he’d rather not be scolded about taking more breaks in front of Tommy.
“Whatever,” Wilbur thought, throwing his jacket, dance school-branded, over his shoulders. “I’ll just practice at home.”
About a minute later when his bag was fully packed, ready to go, he turned to address Tommy, who Phil had already started teaching.
“It was nice working with you, kid ,” Wilbur said. The nickname from earlier stuck with Wilbur, a tease and a reminder of their new-found friendship all the same. “You have potential.” he told Tommy with a grin, waving goodbye as he walked out the door.
-♡-
Three weeks later, Wilbur and Tommy met again. Of course, he saw him in the occasional passing, since Wilbur liked helping his father out at the studio, but there was no interaction aside from smiles and a wave as Tommy walked by.
Wilbur would never admit it if you asked, but he somewhat missed Tommy in those three weeks apart. It was odd how the kid had already wormed his way into Wilbur’s heart after talking to him for only an hour and a half, but Wilbur wasn’t going to complain.
This left Wilbur deep in thought in one of the practice rooms, trying to focus on sweeping the floors. It was a punishment for hanging out with Sally and losing track of time, causing him to be an hour late to his weekly class at the studio.
He was almost done with the chore before he heard the door open. Through the large mirror in the room, he saw Phil step through.
Phil said, “Hey, mate.” with a stupid smile. Wilbur didn’t mean to be so bitter, but he was pissed. His friends were all out trying (and probably failing) to ice skate at their local rink, and Wilbur just had to be at the studio, sweeping the floors.
“I just got done with Tommy’s class, but his mum won’t be here for another half hour. Something came up at work, she said,” Phil mentioned, looking around the room at Wilbur’s work. Wilbur brightened at the mention of Tommy. Phil resumed. “You’ve been working hard all day, d’you want to go hang out with him? Maybe brush up on the step you taught him last month? His first feis with us is in four months.”
“Sure!” Wilbur asked, ready to rush out the door. “He’s in the main room?”
Phil chuckled at his son’s sudden amusement. “Yep,” He said, laughing.
Wilbur was already out the door.
-♡-
Wilbur peaked his head through the door before rushing in the room with his dance bag. Tommy seemed to be zoned out, and apparently didn’t notice him.
Naturally, Wilbur did what any decent person would do.
Sneaking quietly behind Tommy, Wilbur waited. At the right moment, Wilbur rushed from behind, tackling Tommy into the soft carpet. He was sure to be gentle – well, as gentle as you can be when tackling a child – but the kid was affected nonetheless. Before long, he was kicking and screaming to be let out, Wilbur’s laughs echoing through the room as he attempted to evade. Eventually, Wilbur receded, standing and giving Tommy room to breathe.
When Tommy reacquired his bearings, his face revealed bright red and a scowl. Wilbur found this very amusing.
“Get up, gremlin. You feel like working on the step from last month?” Wilbur said, grinning. Tommy seemed to have forgotten his embarrassment over the whole… tackling incident, because he nodded enthusiastically, already assuming position.
Wilbur quickly grabbed the CD the studio had for reel music and rushed over to put it on.. Looking back towards Tommy, he smiled.
Wilbur challenged, prepared. “Show me what you remember, kid.”
Tommy performed. The step was fine, yet Wilbur c ouldn’t help but notice how rigid the kid looked when moving. He turned the music off almost as soon as he realized, heading back over to Tommy.
Tommy whined. “Why’d you turn it off? I wasn’t even on my left foot yet!” Wilbur chuckled at him.
“Your body was very stiff. You’re amazing at dancing, and you have great posture,” Wilbur couldn’t help but watch as pink seeped into Tommy’s cheeks from the praise. He resumed, “But you have to loosen up a bit.” Wilbur assumed form. “Watch this.” He said, starting to dance one of his own steps. In the process, Wilbur tensed himself, seeming as stiff as he possibly could in the moment. With tensity came discomfort, but Wilbur finished the moves anyways.
“Now, look at this.” Wilbur redid the step, looser. His posture was perfect, the dance flowing through his veins, as opposed to the rigidness of the previous move. “Which one did you like better? Because personally, the second one was much more comfortable,” Wilbur remarked, poking fun at his own former pain.
Tommy studied Wilbur’s performance, nodding. He understood.
“Got it, Big Man! I think I could win this feis right now!” Tommy exclaimed with a newfound sense of pride, sticking his tongue out. Wilbur sighed, but he couldn’t hide his grin under the hand that pinched between his eyes.
“Well, I guess if the great ‘ Thomas Innit’ knows everything there is to know about Irish dancing,” Wilbur feigned sorrow, continuing with “sparkling” eyes. “We can’t have any more classes together.”
Tommy’s expression widened, a hand brought up to his face. Immediately, he began to backtrack.
“No, no, wait!” Tommy rushed, panicked. “I still need to practice, I don’t know everything! ”
Wilbur carried on.
“There’s nothing to learn anymore, if you can win all the competitions already,” Wilbur pretended to wipe a tear away. Tommy gasped, Wilbur’s eyes had closed.
Suddenly, Wilbur heard someone running up to him, the pitter-patter of childlike footsteps reaching his ears by the second.
Then, Wilbur felt a tiny pair of arms encase his waist, wrapping him up as tightly as a small child could manage.
For a moment, Wilbur stood, stunned. Kindly, he looked down to see a head of golden curls pressed against his stomach .
“Heavens,” Wilbur thought, “The kid’s nearly shaking.”
Slowly, Wilbur wrapped his own arms around Tommy, humming as the kid embraced the touch.
“I don’t wanna go,” Tommy sobbed, his voice muffled through Wilbur’s shirt. “I w-” Another sob. Tommy stuttered. “I wanna stay here!”
Wilbur swore he felt his heart melt in that moment. Tighter, Wilbur’s arms held, nearly lifting him in the process.
“Listen to me,” Wilbur said, pulling Tommy’s face out of his shirt so he could look at him. “ Listen to me, Tommy.” Wilbur cupped Tommy’s face in his hands, and Tommy’s cheeks squished from the hold. Wilbur smiled, endeared. “You are always welcome here. Always , okay?” Tommy blinked, warm tears running down his face and into Wilbur’s hands. He could feel the spot where the tears landed begin to dry, courtesy of the salt. “You can stay for as long as you’d like, and then some,” Wilbur laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “I was only joking around before, alright? You can stay here until you’re as old as Phil – if that’s what you really want.” Wilbur joked once more, which let Tommy giggle in response. Wilbur’s smile widened.
Tommy pulled him closer.
“Okay.” Tommy said, burying his face into Wilbur’s shirt once more.
A few moments later, the hug having remained, if Phil had peeked his head in the door to see the boys embracing – Tommy’s cheek pressed up against Wilbur’s stomach, and Wilbur’s face enveloped in his golden curls – then he would’ve never had said a word.