Two-Step

Summary: ONE-SHOT, USUK. In preparation for a formal dance, England decides that it's about time that America learned the finer art of dancing. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. Human and Nation names used.

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"All right, Alfred... Dancing, really, isn't all that hard." England looked down at his pupil, who yawned a bit. "Can't we do this later? It's still like... four AM in Washington..."

Arthur tsked. "No, we can't do this later," he stated blandly. "The ball's later tonight. And you haven't even gotten your suit yet, have you?"

"I think my boss remembered my tux..."

"That's your responsibility, not his," Arthur bit out, sighing. "In any case, a suit can be found... But it'll be useless if you can't dance."

"Why do I have to dance, anyway? What's the point?"

"You're saying you'd rather stand in a corner like a lump?" Arthur stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, no, but... England, I know how to dance--"

"Alfred, 'Slappin' Leather'," England bit out, "is not an acceptable dance at this kind of event."

"But it's fun!" Alfred protested.

"You're not doing it at my Queen's birthday party," Arthur hissed. "I invited you because I was sure you could behave yourself. Don't make me regret that decision."

Alfred sighed, ruffling his blonde hair. "Fine, fine. What do I have to learn?"

"Well, there really isn't much time to teach you the finer points, and certainly not enough time for me to teach you a proper waltz," Arthur said, shaking his head. "So, unfortunately, I'll have to teach you only a few simple ones... The Two-Step should last you."

"Two Step... Sure, whatever you say." Alfred yawned widely. He was willing to do anything, so long as Arthur let him go to sleep.

Arthur watched as his former colony's attention already began to drift. "Alfred. Pay attention."

"...Wha?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Look. If you can do this for me, make me look like I at least did SOMETHING right in raising you, please?"

Alfred laughed a bit. "All right, all right. But you know, it's been years since I was a colony. No one really cares about that anymore."

England's eyebrow twitched angrily, and he murmured something the lines of "I sure as hell do". He went over to Alfred, and pulled him by his collar up to his feet. "All right, then, I'll teach you two simple ones. They'll hold you through the ball without making too much of an idiot of yourself. The Two-Step, which is the one we'll start with, is usually used for slower songs. Faster songs, use the Swing..."

"Swing? That sounds familiar..."

"It should, considering it originated in your country," England stated dryly. "Now come on. Since I couldn't get one of the female secretaries to work with us this morning, I'll have to fill in for a girl..." Alfred held back laughter. Arthur stared at him pointedly. "Now. The first thing you always do is politely ask your partner for the dance. If they agree, then you start by getting into the closed dancing position."

"Closed? What's an open one?"

Arthur sighed, then positioned Alfred's feet shoulder-width apart. "Start with the closed, America." He faced the taller American and put his hand on his waist, a few inches above the small of his back. "When you dance in the closed position, your right hand should rest right here," England explained. "Do NOT go any lower, at least while we are practicing, if you want to keep your hand attached to your body. Any higher, and it becomes uncomfortable for your dance partner." America flexed his hand a bit, then let it relax in the curve of England's back. England took America's left hand in his right. America had to hold back laughter when the island nation went into an extremely girly position and rested his other hand in his shoulder.

"All right. This is the closed dance position. Remember - ALWAYS face your partner. Don't look all over the place, face forward, or any of those distracted hyperactive twitchy movements you do at meetings."

America pouted minutely. "Well then, what am I supposed to do?"

"Look at your partner," England stated dryly. "You can talk to them while dancing, as well, you know, if you're able to keep up with a conversation while dancing. Now, the basic steps for the Two-Step are very simple. While dancing, the man always leads. In this case, you're the lead." Alfred smirked a bit, and Arthur glared up at him. "Start with your left foot moving forward, and bring your back foot up to meet it..." The two of them stepped forward twice, their hands bobbing with the time. "Then rock back on your right." America followed England's lead. They repeated the motion a few times, England keeping time with a quiet manrta: "Step-together step, and back. Step-together step, and back..."

"Dancing's easy," Alfred laughed. "Hardly worth taking lessons, England--"

"We're not done," England stated blandly. "You can only go one direction like this. You'll eventually hit a wall."

"But that ballroom is huge!"

"Doens't matter. You'll run into other couples." England shook his head. "I'm also going to teach you the pivot turn... When you go back on your right foot, Alfred, pivot ninety degrees, then go back to the beginning..." They repeated the dance move, and Alfred clumsily managed to turn England. England smiled a bit. "You're the lead. You control what we do. Pull on my hand to tell me which way you want to go. The hand on my back can do the same thing."

Eventually, Alfred got turning down - though it was a lot harder than it looked. It was hard to keep track of England as well as himself, and he stepped on Arthur's foot more than once. England was patient, however, and didn't complain or yell at him, simply encouraging him, pointing out mistakes as well as ways to fix them, and praising him when he finally completed it flawlessly.

"We done yet?" Alfred complained.

"We're not even done with the Two-Step, Alfred. And we have the Swing after that."

"Great," Alfred stated blandly. While he was starting to enjoy dancing with England, the dance still seemed rather stuffy. He'd enjoy doing something a little more... upbeat. Maybe it would force some fun into the Brit.

"All right. Now, you can also move forwards and backwards. Pull on me with the hand on my back to move backwards - towards you - and push on my hand to move forwards - towards myself. Other than that, it has the same beat"

This took a few more tries, and quite a few more stepped-on feet. Alfred's legs were longer than Arthur's, and he had to learn to compensate for their difference in height by taking smaller steps. Eventually, though, the American got it. Arthur was a good teacher.

"Good. You seem to have the Two-Step down... Are you unsure about any of the moves, or do you think you have a good handle on them?"

"I think I'm good," America said after thinking about it for a second. It wasn't too difficult, once he got past the awkwardness of dancing so close to his old caretaker.

"All right, then there's the swing. This one is a little more... ah... upbeat, I suppose the word would be, than the Two-Step. I thought you'd enjoy it. Besides, the fact that it originated in America during the 20s might make it a little more appealing."

"Sounds awesome!" America said, smiling brightly. He vaguely remembered the high-pace dances from the "Roaring 20s", and thought they'd be fun to do. Besides, if he were lucky, he'd get to flip England...

"All right, let's start with the basic step." England stepped away from him, and America nearly protested, catching himself just in time. "Put your palms up..." America did so, and England rested his hands on top of America's. "All right. Hold them so that the elbows are bent... No, not that much... Much better. Now, the basic movement is easy, as well. Rock onto your left foot, then your right, then rock backwards on your left foot. You should feel a tug on your arms... Then rock back forwards, quickly. The beat is a little faster. One, two, three-four, one, two, three-four..."

This dance was faster, and as such, the energetic American picked it up more easily. "All right, are you ready to learn some of the other moves?"

"What kind?"

"I'll teach you three," England decided. "The left and right inside turns, and the wrap. That should do you just fine."

It took America no time at all to get down the turns. He had to admit, he enjoyed being the lead. The feeling that he had the complete control of the situation made him feel a little less nervous. England was a good partner, easily adapting to America's blunders and mistakes with little effort.

America spun England in, and was a little surprised when England held onto his other hand, keeping him held close, his arms wrapped around the smaller nation. He felt a small blush light up his cheeks. "This is the beginning of the wrap," England explained, dropping one of his hands and spinning out. "Tug across to the other hand..." England walked behind America, grabbing his other hand, "And spin back in... And rock-step." And so began the basic step. After a moment, they stopped. "Do you need to go over that one again?"

"...I think I got it," America said, turning a light pink.

America was happy for the old lady. Granted, he didn't completely worship and adore her like England did, but he still wished the island nation's beloved Queen a happy birthday. She smiled and thanked him for coming, before striking up a conversation with America's boss.

America wandered the party for about an hour, nothing really striking his fancy. He managed to dance a two-step with a girl he vaguely recognized as a girl from England's work (a secretary for someone, he believed), but managed to weasle his way out of most.

Of course, there were always people ruining things. He'd seen Francis in a corner somewhere, a glass of wine in hand. About fifteen minutes later, he could hear a muffled laughter from nearby that told him one thing - Francis had somehow gotten Arthur to drink some of the damn wine. The Frenchman knew how easily Arthur succumbed to alcohol, so Alfred knew it wasn't by mistake.

A few girls laughed, cheering on someone. An upbeat song that sounded vaguely familiar played in the background.

America watched, eyes widening and mouth dropping. England was beyond drunk. He had to be.

He was dancing with Francis.

Francis wasn't half bad. He spun England expertly, and the Briton laughed, his face flushed. It was funny how England completely hated France sober, but didn't mind him drunk. The inebriated Brit was singing along to the background song, albiet his words were slurred heavily. "Loose, footloose... Kick off your Sunday shoes... Please, Louise. Pull me offa my knees..."

Alfred watched, his heart skipping a beat when Francis flipped Arthur over his shoulder, turning him upside down and around his neck like a doll, but watched in awe as Arthur landed on his feet, cat-like, and spun into a pose similar to the Swing 'Wrap' move that Arthur had shown Alfred earlier.

The thought of Francis that close to Arthur made America feel uncomfortable.

Arthur spun away from Francis, then they clasped hands again, and began the same moves from the beginning. A few girls wolf-whistled at some of the racier moves the two countries performed.

The song finished, and Arthur was still laughing. France smiled up at his sometimes friend, sometimes enemy. "Well, mon cher? Another dance?"

"Sorry, but I still have to find Alfred. I want to see how well he remembered my lesson from earlier."

"Ah? We always dance together at this sort of thing."

"And it's about time I got a dance partner I actually enjoy the company of," Arthur replied. "He's a fast learner. He'll pick up all your old tricks easily enough."

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Alfred found that he really liked leading. England danced better when he was sober, he'd found. England was currently teaching him the routine he and Francis had done - albeit, England had simplified it at the party in his drunken haze. America brought England into a Swing Wrap position, but held to his hand tightly, not allowing England to escape from the embrace.

"What the blazes are you doing?" England asked, irrate. "We're in the middle of practice--"

"I'm leading, remember?" he murmured against England's neck. The other nationed squeaked in reply. America smirked against the pale flesh, leaned forward, craning his neck and kissing the corner of England's mouth.

England turned his head, and captured America's lips in a proper kiss, the music forgotten.

America could really get used to leading, so long as it was England being led.