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When you had first heard there was going to a semi-formal dance that you would have to attend undercover, you were not enthused to say the least. Throughout your life you had carefully avoided situations that would require you to use your two left feet in any rhythmic fashion. However this was one that you couldn’t talk your way out of, no matter how hard you tried to persuade your team to give you a different role. Over the course of the week leading up to the event there was even more rigorous training than usual, which now included dance lessons in addition to your regular training routine in order to ensure that you didn’t accidentally blow your cover. You were supposed to distract a baron Before long you were able to manage the basic steps, though not without ridicule from your fellow teammates.
“I’ve seen girls with two left feet,” commented Tony, “but this is just sad. Maybe we should get someone else?” Your face flushed and you tried to stutter through an excuse but you were cut off by a sharp Sokovian accent.
Pietro had been quick to leap to your defence. As your proposed partner on this mission you had appreciated him doing so, but at the same time you began to wonder about the truth in Tony’s words. Natasha was a very patient teacher, but you were starting to feel hopeless. You could read the fatigue on her face every time you messed up the steps or inadvertently stomped on your partner’s toes. Finally having enough, noticing that the undivided attention of your peers was making it much more difficult for you to move naturally, Pietro kicked everyone except for his sister out. She was to observe your posture and offer corrections as kindly as possible. It was clear to see that you were getting increasingly discouraged, and he never could resist that sad little pout you got when you were trying to hide that you were upset.
“They’re right you know. You should just… take Natasha, she already knows the steps and she won’t blow your cover while you’re sneaking into the control rooms.” You said miserably. You pretended not to see his hands when he reached for you, chewing your lip and glancing nervously at Wanda. She smiled knowingly at you, so you cast your eyes away from her too and focused on swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Nonsense, printsessa,” he chided you, taking your hands and laying one against his shoulder. The other rested naturally in his. Pietro had large, warm hands that steadied the shaking nerves that rattled in your chest. He used his other hand to pull your waist closer, and then began to sway softly to the music that still played quietly in the background. Something crackled between you as he stared down at you with a cocky grin on his lips, but Wanda reminded you both of her presence.
“Y/N, straighten your back a little. Do not resist Pietro leading you, he is light on his feet. I promise he will not steer you wrong. Will you, brother?”
He nodded solemnly but said nothing. You were too focused on the hammering of your heart, so when he attempted to lead you into the first step you stumbled and stomped on his foot in your too-tall heels. If it hurt him he didn’t indicate as much, he just paused and smiled patiently. You tried to pull away immediately, apologizing while trying to hide the hot feeling that burned your eyes from your partner and his sister. His grip never faltered, the hand on your lower back rubbed small soothing circles, and he hushed your frantic apologies.
“I’m going to move now, okay printsessa? Do not be so nervous. It is just you and I.”
“That’s why I’m nervous,” you breathed, and then realized what you had said. “I-I mean… You seem to have this all together already. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of everyone. I don’t know why I can’t get this, I just…” You realized that you were rambling and cut yourself off, blinking back tears and trying to step away. He held you fast and waited for you to take a deep, calming breath.
“It’s just like a fight, you know.” You looked at him strangely. “You’ve been trained to follow certain choreography, and when you follow the steps you win with ease and grace. You anticipate my every move and your own body responds to me. Your job is to let me believe I have the upper hand, but really you’re in control. You know what’s coming next and how to respond to get the best results. It is the same, you see?”
You laughed quietly to yourself. “It sounds like you’re encouraging me to put you on the ground. I don’t think you’re supposed to take your partner down before the song is over, Pietro, otherwise I’d be great at this already.”
“I would not be so opposed to that either, printsessa but now is hardly the time, I think. Now–” Damn him and his quick replies for everything. He gave you a wink and readjusted his hold on you to remind you of the task at hand. You spared a glance in Wanda’s direction to see if she had heard anything of your flirtatious exchange, but she was looking down at her phone.
Finally, grounded by his hands keeping you steady, you were ready.
“Okay,” you sighed, “Let’s just get this over with.”
His step was uncharacteristically slow. Pietro moved with impeccable balance and focus, each step radiating purpose. Your feet seem useless in comparison, but you do you best not to tread on his toes. You also noted that he had very strong, very broad hands. It had never occurred to you before, but you noticed this about him as soon as he started to guide you. When you tensed up his fingers drifted up from the small of your back to coax your shoulders into a more relaxed posture. It was something that you really wished you had not noticed about the Sokovian, but when his firm grip around your waist returned you could barely suppress the shudder that ran through you. He murmured quiet encouragement when you moved correctly.
“You do not have to be so scared, draga mea,” he whispered finally. “Do not be afraid to lean on me. Put some trust in me, printsessa. I’m not going to let you fail.”
He spun you suddenly. The air rushed out of your lungs, but the moment you felt like you were going to tip over his hands were on you again and pulling you back into him. Once you were close enough he rested his cheek against your flushed ones, pressing his mouth against your temple without applying the pressure to qualify it as a kiss. The gesture of pure unadulterated affection made you melt a little. You closed your eyes and finally placed all of your trust and your body in his welcome hands.
“That’s it,” he murmured against your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. You’d never know you were dancing like a baby horse only a moment ago.” You playfully smacked his chest and hid a smile into his shoulder.
Pietro danced with you this way for a total of three songs, the better part of half an hour, sometime during which his sister had left the two of you alone. You had barely registered her leaving until your blond partner had picked up the pace, and you had looked towards where she had been seated in a panic for direction. But Pietro simply turned your chin back to him. The gaze that bore into your eyes with that inescapable electric blue focus made your cheeks flame.
“Look at your partner, frumoasa. Focus on me, not your feet. Your partner will lead, and you must keep his eyes on you.” Pietro let go of your hand momentarily to trail his warm fingertips down your arm before he spun you and caught you in position again. The transition was seamless. You were suddenly fearless. He could move your body however he pleased, and your own feet never faltered once you stopped fretting over them. You laughed softly, breathlessly, shocked that you had executed the move without causing either of you physical harm. He smiled softly down at you and grinned at your vibrant excitement.
The more you danced, the easier your smile came. Your laughter was sweet; he leaned in close to tell you how beautiful you looked, how impressed he was at your progress already. You could only smile at him with the stars in your eyes.
When he eventually let you go, the last song on the disc you had been using drawing to a deep toned close, you almost stumbled forward trying to maintain the contact he had on you. But he distanced himself. He might have registered some of the brief confusion and hurt in your eyes, because moments later taking your smaller hand into his large warm ones to press a soft kiss against the tip of your fingers, then using his grip on you to pull you in and allow him to press one more against your cheekbone.
“You’ve been a lovely partner, printsessa,” he murmured against your ear. “A little more practise and you will dance like a professional. Do not be discouraged if anyone gives you any flack. Especially Stark.” He made a face like saying the name left a bad taste in his mouth. “You made a lot of progress today. I’m very impressed.” A chill ran down your spine at the compliments. Without meaning to your fingers knotted themselves into the sleeves of his shirt. He called your name when you weren’t letting go, at which point you jerked away and stuck them behind your back.
“Thank you…” You took a deep breath. “Thank you for spending the extra time with me. I actually think I might be able to handle this.”
He smiled, pressing another kiss to the opposite cheek. “I have no doubts, printsessa. I know you’re going to be perfect.”