MHA #15, Tuesday Evening

[pocketpretzels]

During their conversation at the Devil's Nest last week, Marc had suggested Watts take Steven salsa dancing during their Valentine's trip. Which Watts had been all over, but for the fact that while he knew how to waltz, a salsa was... not the same thing.

Marc knew how to salsa, though, and he'd even gone so far as to offer to teach Watts despite the fact that dancing with the boyfriend of the guy you shared a body with was bound to be more than a little awkward.

Thankfully for both of them, Annie had heard the word 'dance' and immediately volunteered herself to help. Some discussion of logistics and schedules later, and they'd settled on Tuesday evening for the lesson. Hence why Watts was making sure his speaker was set up and also pouring out some rum in a few shot glasses to leave on the balcony. He himself might not like being surprised but anticipating the look on Steven's face as he revealed that he'd taken the time to at least get the basics down? He coudn't pass that up. And for his actual guests he had both a nice bottle of wine and some good whiskey ready to go.

[ooc: for the dance instructors! that they are there for dance lessons is NFB please.]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

At the time this had come up Watts had seemed so out of his element on the concept that frankly on principle Marc felt like he had to offer a hand. Throw in a message on his phone that Marc was very much ignoring and as of right now Marc was thrilled to grab on to anything that proved to be a distraction.

Yes, even if it meant being social.

So at more or less the agreed upon time Marc went across the hallway and knocked.

[pocketpretzels]

"Marc," Watts greeted as he opened the door. "Come on in," he waved him inside.

[hasaknightjob]

"Watts," Marc replied. He came in and looked around. Technically he'd been here before, but always while Steven had control of the body. Joining in via reflection while Watts and Steven went through Hanukkah together wasn't the same thing. Though it did mean one of the first things Marc put his eyes on was the handy picture frame that allowed for that kind of company.

No such company tonight, though. Steven didn't even know that Marc's plans for the day had included seeing Watts at all, let alone why.

"Doing okay?" Marc asked.

[pocketpretzels]

Watts wasn't sure how much, if at all, Steven had relayed to Marc regarding their conversation on Saturday. "No complaints currently," he answered with a shrug. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked. "I promise I've more than wine."

As he spoke, Raphael- who'd been curled on the couch enjoying an evening nap- woke, stretched, and hopped down. Unlike with Steven, though, he didn't make a beeline for Marc in a clear demand for attention, instead very casually ambling over in his general direction.

[hasaknightjob]

And Marc, who could take or leave pets of any kind, was not paying Raphael any attention whatsoever.

"Something stronger than wine would be great," Marc said.

[pocketpretzels]

Hence why Raphael was nonchalantly making his way over to Marc’s ankles, intent on rubbing up against them in a completely casual manner.

Watts, meanwhile, uncorked that whisky and poured Marc a glass. “Hopefully this meets your approval.”

[hasaknightjob]

Marc was still not paying Raphael any mind. He did, ho, take a good drink from the whiskey in a way that suggested he wasn't too worried about the quality.

[pocketpretzels]

Watts gave Marc a look. “Are you all right?” he asked.

[hasaknightjob]

"Nothing you guys need to worry about," Marc told him.

Did it count as lying if Marc genuinely believed it to be true?

[pocketpretzels]

And now Watts’s expression was extremely dubious. But he wasn’t going to press the issue, at least not now.

“If you say so.” He was, however, going to make it fairly clear he wasn’t buying what Marc was trying to sell.

[defenderofdesmoines]

Honestly, the narrative hadn't even been exaggerating much. Annie had been lacking for opportunities to dance for long enough that she'd practically jumped at the opportunity to practice -- and help Watts out in the process. (And maybe she could roll this into a little proposal of a dancing date of her own. Maybe for Valentine's!)

In any case, she was right on time and dressed to dance -- which is to say, leggings so she wouldn't risk tripping on a cuff, a comfy top, and dance shoes with a chunky heel. She'd thought about digging out a dance skirt, but given that Watts was also going to be applying this with a partner who would presumably not be wearing one himself, she felt it might be overkill.

She knocked, taking the idle time as an opportunity to roll one ankle again. She'd already stretched downstairs, but you really couldn't warm up enough for this kind of thing.

[pocketpretzels]

Watts was at the door promptly, opening it and stepping aside to let her in.

“Can I get you a drink, Mrs. Hargreeves?” He wasn’t quite comfortable asking to address her by given name, not just yet anyway.

The apartment looked basically the same as it had once the post-Hanukkah-party cleanup had been done, though the cat cautiously peering over the edge of the couch at the newcomer hadn’t been present then, having been safely asleep in Steven and Marc’s bedroom at the time.

[defenderofdesmoines]

"Sure! Dancing and drinking is a match made in heaven," Annie replied warmly, stepping in and making a little face over at Raphael.

Annie was more of a dog person, but she wasn't going to ignore a cat in the same room as them.

"Drinking in moderation, anyway." Not that she thought Watts was looking to get particularly silly, either, but there was definitely a difference between, 'I move with fewer inhibitions after a glass of wine,' versus, 'I can't feel my face but I can feel the music.'

[pocketpretzels]

“That was the general idea,” Watts said, nodding as he went over to pour her a glass of wine. “Loosen one’s inhibitions a little, but not so far as to wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

[defenderofdesmoines]

"And you've got music picked out?" Annie checked. "I've got a playlist if we need it, but I figured you might have something you prefer."

[pocketpretzels]

“I am extremely unfamiliar with the genre, so I am glad you came prepared,” Watts said with relief. “Though I do have a device to play the music on,” he gestured to the bluetooth speaker he had set up.

[pocketpretzels]

Now that both Annie and Marc were there, drinks had been poured, and some appropriate music was playing through the bluetooth speaker, Watts was-

Watts was looking back and forth between the two of them. “Where do we begin?”

[hasaknightjob]

"You know a waltz, right?" Marc said. "Let's start with that and we can adjust."

[defenderofdesmoines]

"Who usually leads?" Annie asked Watts, not wanting to presume as she stepped about a foot into his space. "Usually Diego does when we dance, but I've switched before -- just let me know what you need."

[pocketpretzels]

“When we do a waltz, typically I lead just by virtue of being more familiar with the movements, but we do switch off,” Watts told her.

[hasaknightjob]

"Let's go with you lead," Marc said. "I'm still trying to get him to relax. One less thing for him to worry about."

[defenderofdesmoines]

That made it easy enough, and Annie reached out to place her right hand on Watts' shoulder. "Relaxation is important," she offered in agreement with Marc. "Remember the point is to have fun."

Plus it wasn't like he was gonna actually hurt her by stepping on toes, or anything.

[pocketpretzels]

Start with a waltz. Sure, Watts could do that, no problem. He began leading Annie in the familiar box-step.

“I’ve also never danced with a woman before, so that’s new for me as well.” Not that it was wildly different so far other than the height, ah, difference.

[defenderofdesmoines]

Meanwhile, Watts -- and Marc, for that matter -- were both right around the same height as Diego, so this was very familiar territory for Annie. (Not that a height difference would have mattered much to her, anyway; she'd danced with both Luther and Viktor at her wedding, after all.)

"I think the only time I've danced with a woman was at my bachelorette party -- we went swing dancing, and I ended up getting twirled around by Diego's sister."

We should all be so lucky as to be spun by the likes of Allison Hargreeves.

[pocketpretzels]

“It’s not so different,” Watts mused, making his narrative text. “I’m not sure why I expected it might be,” he admitted.