Day 12 Summer Camp
Title- Tight and Close
Rated- G
Word Count- 1007
Summary- England and America dance in circles, literally.
A/N- I've a feeling I write something similar to this every single time a prompt about dancing comes up but always manage to do something slightly different. But essentially I should come up with something other than dancing in circles. I can't dance though so idek
| Tight and Close |
"You know I love you, don't you?"
England snorted into America's shoulder before drawing away to look at his face, surprised to see an entirely serious expression there. "You're joking, right?"
"Why would I be?" America asked, lolling his head to one side so all his hair fell down into his eyes which caused the corner of England's mouth to twitch because he had spent so long brushing that back earlier. "I want to make sure."
"How would I know something like that?" England said, stilling his movements and causing America to trip over himself, balancing barely on England's shoulders to steady himself up.
"I thought you would," America said, pulling on the lapels of England's jacket, "You always know things."
"How am I supposed to know something you never even told me," England said lowly, fingers entwined with each other at the small of America's back. "Presuming it is even true and I highly doubt you are doing anything other than messing with me."
"Why would I lie about that?"
Everyone around them was still dancing, a blur of faces and fancy suits, people all shapes and sizes and ages clinging to each other in fancy dresses and matching ties. England didn't even remember how he got there, let alone why he went in the first place. America probably tricked him but somewhere along the line he ended up dancing, tight and close, and forgot everything he'd known previously about stepping on feet and both of them were going to have bruised toes in the morning.
"I wouldn't put it past you," England scoffed and he was even more surprised to see America's facial expression contort into one that could only describe hurt.
"When have I ever led you to believe I would be insincere about something like this?" America asked, exasperation leaking through his voice, "You seem to think incredibly little of me, England."
"It's not like you've given me a reason yet to think highly of you," he said haughtily, "I'm surprised my toes aren't broken already."
"You stepped on my toes several times too you know," America said, his voice coming out as a hiss.
"I'm sure I did, but you're making me dance awfully close to you," England replied.
"When did this get to be about dancing again, anyway," he said, "Don't change the subject."
"America, we are in a dance hall," England sighed, "And we are standing motionless having a pointless conversation in the middle of all these people. Don't you think we should go somewhere else to have this idiotic conversation?"
"No," America said simply, roughly grabbing England shoulders and pulling him forward, almost lifting him off his feet for a second, before tightly grabbing his hand and holding the other arm in place. England's hand slipped down to America's waist, the only part of him he could get a grip on.
"What are you doing now," England asked indignantly.
"You thought we were dancing close before," America said, leaning in so his chin was resting on England's shoulder and his voice was tickling the lobe of his ear, "That was nothing compared to this."
It was impossible not to trip over each other's feet as the attempted to move around in the ludicrous position they found themselves in. It wasn't even limited to feet; chest to chest meant their chins were knocking and at some point America slipped his glasses into his back pocket to avoid them getting trampled when they would be no doubt knocked on to the dance floor. A child danced by, standing on their guardian's feet.
"This is insane," England said, "The song is suited for waltzing, not whatever the hell this is."
"This is dancing just like the rest of 'em are," America insisted and dragged England closer than what he thought were humanly possible, his cheek squashed up against America's neck.
"We're still having this conversation," he said lowly and England groaned.
"What conversation, the terrible late April Fool's joke?" England asked, "It's May already and just because you forgot to trick me before twelve doesn't mean you have a free pass all year."
"Why is everything I do a joke to you?" America asked quietly.
"Because that is what you make it out to be and it is the only logical explanation."
"I believe the most logical explanation here is that I'm telling the truth," he said, tightening his grip on England's arm and eliciting a gasp and a slight wriggle.
"America, let go," England said, eyebrows furrowing but America couldn't see that as their faces were buried in each other's shoulders.
"No," he said, "I won't."
The music picked up and England squawked when America whooshed him up off his feet at the first note. He made every complaint under the sun while America, cheered up immensely it seemed since their dull conversation, swung him around closely and forgot to put him down until the song ended, much to the tittered amusements of other people on the dance floor.
But by the time the night ended and the band were packing up and the dance floor was mostly evacuated, America still didn't let England go, moving around to no beat in spherical motions, much to England's chagrin until he eventually had to leave. But it didn't really matter in the end because even if they weren't physically doing so, America knew exactly what was going on in each of their heads.
They were always dancing in circles.
| E N D |
Rated- G
Word Count- 1007
Summary- England and America dance in circles, literally.
A/N- I've a feeling I write something similar to this every single time a prompt about dancing comes up but always manage to do something slightly different. But essentially I should come up with something other than dancing in circles. I can't dance though so idek
| Tight and Close |
"You know I love you, don't you?"
England snorted into America's shoulder before drawing away to look at his face, surprised to see an entirely serious expression there. "You're joking, right?"
"Why would I be?" America asked, lolling his head to one side so all his hair fell down into his eyes which caused the corner of England's mouth to twitch because he had spent so long brushing that back earlier. "I want to make sure."
"How would I know something like that?" England said, stilling his movements and causing America to trip over himself, balancing barely on England's shoulders to steady himself up.
"I thought you would," America said, pulling on the lapels of England's jacket, "You always know things."
"How am I supposed to know something you never even told me," England said lowly, fingers entwined with each other at the small of America's back. "Presuming it is even true and I highly doubt you are doing anything other than messing with me."
"Why would I lie about that?"
Everyone around them was still dancing, a blur of faces and fancy suits, people all shapes and sizes and ages clinging to each other in fancy dresses and matching ties. England didn't even remember how he got there, let alone why he went in the first place. America probably tricked him but somewhere along the line he ended up dancing, tight and close, and forgot everything he'd known previously about stepping on feet and both of them were going to have bruised toes in the morning.
"I wouldn't put it past you," England scoffed and he was even more surprised to see America's facial expression contort into one that could only describe hurt.
"When have I ever led you to believe I would be insincere about something like this?" America asked, exasperation leaking through his voice, "You seem to think incredibly little of me, England."
"It's not like you've given me a reason yet to think highly of you," he said haughtily, "I'm surprised my toes aren't broken already."
"You stepped on my toes several times too you know," America said, his voice coming out as a hiss.
"I'm sure I did, but you're making me dance awfully close to you," England replied.
"When did this get to be about dancing again, anyway," he said, "Don't change the subject."
"America, we are in a dance hall," England sighed, "And we are standing motionless having a pointless conversation in the middle of all these people. Don't you think we should go somewhere else to have this idiotic conversation?"
"No," America said simply, roughly grabbing England shoulders and pulling him forward, almost lifting him off his feet for a second, before tightly grabbing his hand and holding the other arm in place. England's hand slipped down to America's waist, the only part of him he could get a grip on.
"What are you doing now," England asked indignantly.
"You thought we were dancing close before," America said, leaning in so his chin was resting on England's shoulder and his voice was tickling the lobe of his ear, "That was nothing compared to this."
It was impossible not to trip over each other's feet as the attempted to move around in the ludicrous position they found themselves in. It wasn't even limited to feet; chest to chest meant their chins were knocking and at some point America slipped his glasses into his back pocket to avoid them getting trampled when they would be no doubt knocked on to the dance floor. A child danced by, standing on their guardian's feet.
"This is insane," England said, "The song is suited for waltzing, not whatever the hell this is."
"This is dancing just like the rest of 'em are," America insisted and dragged England closer than what he thought were humanly possible, his cheek squashed up against America's neck.
"We're still having this conversation," he said lowly and England groaned.
"What conversation, the terrible late April Fool's joke?" England asked, "It's May already and just because you forgot to trick me before twelve doesn't mean you have a free pass all year."
"Why is everything I do a joke to you?" America asked quietly.
"Because that is what you make it out to be and it is the only logical explanation."
"I believe the most logical explanation here is that I'm telling the truth," he said, tightening his grip on England's arm and eliciting a gasp and a slight wriggle.
"America, let go," England said, eyebrows furrowing but America couldn't see that as their faces were buried in each other's shoulders.
"No," he said, "I won't."
The music picked up and England squawked when America whooshed him up off his feet at the first note. He made every complaint under the sun while America, cheered up immensely it seemed since their dull conversation, swung him around closely and forgot to put him down until the song ended, much to the tittered amusements of other people on the dance floor.
But by the time the night ended and the band were packing up and the dance floor was mostly evacuated, America still didn't let England go, moving around to no beat in spherical motions, much to England's chagrin until he eventually had to leave. But it didn't really matter in the end because even if they weren't physically doing so, America knew exactly what was going on in each of their heads.
They were always dancing in circles.
| E N D |