Dirty Dancing

[metalicarus]

As much as their little family unit stuck together these days, they each had their own things to do and places to go sometimes and that could mean they were gone for a long time, depending on where they were going and why. For Pyunma, it was his digs and various other cultural and historical things that he was called to and, as he gained notoriety, he was being called on more and more. This meant he was often away for months at a time. However, he always sent little things back for his family as he found them, for Albert and Jet they often came in the form of books, music and little models of whatever reminded Pyunma of Jet.

When Jet came home from shopping, it was to the sounds of Spanish-style music flooding their home. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't tell if it was the artist or just the type of music. Puerto Rican music had flowed nearly non-stop from certain parts of the city Jet had gone through and spent time in and he'd never had a problem with the music itself, just the people who played it. Older now, the prejudices had died and left behind was the pure appreciation for the sound. Besides, it made for good dancing music, especially the more sensual kind he didn't get to do all that often anymore.

He cast a quick glance to see Albert in his chair with one of his books before moving into the kitchen to unload the groceries. Just as he was finishing, a song came on that was just a little faster than the others, a little more, and it put a beat to Jet's movements.

That was when the lightbulb flashed over his head and spawned a somewhat evil little smirk on Jet's face.

A quiet 'zing' -easily missed under the music- and Jet accelerated upstairs, changed into a pair of distinctly tighter jeans and a tight tank top that he knew would move with him just like he wanted it to, and headed back down the stairs at a normal pace. As soon as his bare feet touched the slick wood of the bottom floor, Jet started to move.

It took no time at all to let the music flow into his system, taking control of his body as he moved around to the front of the couch. Gracefully, Jet's body flowed into moves he knew by muscle more than memory. He stood there in the middle of the living room, swirling hips and taking steps as the puppet of the music he was, though there could be no doubt by just a glance at his face that he was enjoying himself. However, he was also knowingly putting on a show for his husband, something he made clear by the looks and suggestive smirks he sent Albert's way.

Comments

[silberfuchs]

Pyunma's gifts are always thoughtful and well appreciated. Unlike GB who has a penchant for kitchy knick knacks and Francoise who always asks if they want things wherever she goes and doesn't get them anything if they don't pose a preference, the African cyborg knows each of them well and takes personality and taste into account with each gift. To Jet, he'd sent a colorful little box with worry dolls and a sugar skull to satisfy the blond's sweet tooth. To Albert, he'd sent a book about the history of South American music with an accompanying CD, both of which the German is indulging in already when Jet comes home.

He's oblivious for awhile, barely aware of the clinking of bottles and rustling of bags as his husband puts things away in the kitchen, content to listen and read until Jet inevitably yowled for his attention. Only Jet didn't yowl, not this time.

He gyrated.

Albert's been with Jet for quite some time now, longer with than without, and though he's seen his partner dance he's never seen him dance like that, as if he's a complete extension of the music with no control of himself, his expression lost to the rhythm save for where his capriciousness bleeds through and he all but smolders at Albert, leaving the older man to stare with his mouth slightly open.

[metalicarus]

Half the fun for Jet is making his usually-stone-faced husband show just how affected he was by the things the blond did, so Jet indulged in showing Albert something new in the way Jet danced. He showed a range and flexibility rarely needed in other dances he'd performed, it just hadn't been necessary, but this music was different.

Here he told a story with his body. Every ripple of muscle and sway of hip said something different and he tailored himself to speak to Albert specifically, like a siren's call of skin instead of sound.

However, there was more to show the older man than just this, something he wouldn't know by sitting there and staring. Jet half broke his movements, still reflecting the rhythm with his body as he moved closer to the German, grabbed him by the wrists and got him into standing. He knew he'd meet resistance with any attempt to bring Albert into the actual dancing but, luckily, he din't need him to participate this time...just enjoy.

Once Albert was standing, Jet's dancing continued but now with the movements directed to intentionally result in Jet rubbing against Albert as used his arms and hands to keep the other man close. He'd move his arms behind Albert's neck as his crotch found Albert's hip for a long moment, but then they were both gone and Jet's hands would trace down Albert's chest just to find somewhere new to grip so he could pay a bit of friction to Albert's own crotch. Every touch was heavy enough to be noticed, but teasing in it's brevity. It could only last so long as the beat, after all.

[silberfuchs]

With Francoise being the one to actually focus on dancing with any sort of importance, it's easy for Albert to forget that Jet was accomplished too, that he was just as graceful, just as flexible, and what's worse, had less shame. Something Albert has in spades.

But they're all alone in their apartment, and so when Jet tugs at him in time with the rhythm of the song, Albert lets himself get hauled to his feet. If Jet expects any actual movement of feet he needs to reevaluate said expectations, but the beat of the music and Jet's hips pushing against him at intervals with insistence get at least a sway out of the German, left then right then back again in time with the song as Jet whirls around him like a prop.

He doesn't mind in the slightest, feeling maybe a little foolish for his own awkward movements, but this is hardly serious and definitely not for an audience. Besides, if Jet minded him being a little silly from time to time, he would have lodged a complaint years ago. With a slightly awkward grin, Albert tries to roll his hips forward as Jet's hand slides down his torso over his shirt. It's an amateurish, unpracticed movement, but it's in time with the music and in tune with Jet's movement. And shows that the German can, in fact, move.

[metalicarus]

He wasn't experiencing nearly as much resistance as he suspected he would and that was actually pretty encouraging, it had him moving even more suggestively than before, if that were possible.

But then he slid his hand down Albert's chest and his partner rolled his hips forward with more rhythm and purpose than Jet had ever seen him display. Perhaps....just perhaps, his husband had more dance in him than he'd been letting on. The bastard.

It would take further testing to make sure.

Jet changed his movements so he wasn't treating Albert so much as an object for Jet to dance on and more like a partner to dance with. Jet's hands continued to skate over the older man's form, but now meant guide just as much as touch. Jet's hips move one way and he presses into and on Albert in a way to encourage his hips move similarly, making them sway and move in time to the music. Dancing. There was ten time more contact in this dancing than any other kind of dancing Jet had tried to drag Albert into, their pelvises grinding against each other as Jet lead them into a swaying, circular movement and long, slender fingers danced along the planes of Albert's chest sand back, keeping his partner pressed to him throughout.

He'd have to chew his husband out for holding out on him later, for now he was just going to lead them into flowing with the music.

[silberfuchs]

Maybe it's the music, maybe it's the way he's always some level of intoxicated by his partner, ranging from mild to overwhelming, but Albert keeps moving. He can feel where Jet is trying to guide him and he lets himself shift accordingly, pressing against his husband to follow the beat, sliding his hands after Jet's in ways that make his breath come just a little faster, makes his heart flutter in his chest with the thrill of it.

Strains of guitar and percussion wind around them, locked in their rhythmic embrace as they are. Albert's movements may be unpracticed and crude but they're born of passion for the man who'd dragged him to his feet and for once, Albert doesn't care about what it looks like in favor of being close and grinding himself against Jet just as urgently as his husband is doing to him.

Another bar and Albert can't help himself. He wraps his arms around his lover and kisses him deeply, still swaying to the beat and letting his hips try to match Jet's.