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Dancing between them didn’t require a firm and unmovable leader. Dancing was a smooth and graceful series of moments where one part would end, their rein of leadership would switch and flow into a different set of moments. Dancing to the pair was as easy as breathing, the hands to the other’s bodies, their teasing little smirk twitching at the corner of their lips.
Loving them was easy, it was hard—it was a living and breathing entity that would come and go in radiant of emotions. Loving him was easy; when he’d laugh and smile, when he’d kiss him softly and promise to never let him go. Loving him was hard; when he’d tilt his head just so and he’d know that he was an inch away from trouble, when he’d leave for days at a time and return like he had never been gone.
Their love had been odd, a flow of one thing to the other. So fast, so steady that neither had any clue what had happened until they were years into this well practiced dance of theirs. There was no stopping it.
“May I lead this evening?”
The other smiles, taking the pale offered hand and chuckles. “I’m feeling a little upbeat today, my love, how about something a little energetic.” With his other hand he swept the long black hair away from his face and tucked the strands from his face.
The music from their little CD player takes a moment to start, the player was well older than most of everything in the MOI. Sure, the possibility of something older being stowed away in some corner was a possibility—maybe a trinket from one of the crew even. But this was their indulgence.
They stood facing each other, a smile already forming on their lips as they waited for their CD to play. The soft melody seeps into the room, bouncing from the walls now that most of their limited furniture had been pushed away. Reggie led him with a pull of Butch’s arm, falling back and slowly turning the man.
“As you wish Love,” he wiggled his mustache, winking when the other couldn’t help the small chuckle it produced. Butch always loved how the other man would wiggle it just so—it was cute.
Their dancing didn’t require a firm and unmovable leader. Dancing was a smooth and graceful series of moments where one part would end, their rein of leadership would switch and flow into a different set of moments. Reggie would twist, would guide the other and Butch would sweep and glide and follow without ever breaking a sweat. Dancing to the pair was as easy as breathing, the hands to the other’s bodies, the breath mingling in the air as they’d meet and pull away again.
Dancing was fun. Dancing was their love.
Dancing to Butch Flowers, to Florida, was what he did.