sinouses

anonymous asked:

can you write a part 2 to the dancing with the stars prompt???

It’s with a nervous breathe in that she pauses on the threshold of the dance studio, dance bag slung over her shoulder. 

Enzo was nice enough to give them some forewarning as to what dance styles they’ll be doing ahead of time. The first week had been tango, the second the jive, the third the samba. With three of the most technically difficult dances out of the way, and the crop of contestants weeded out, she was almost relieved to be able to focus on some of the more visually stunning style of dances. 

This week was the paso doble. While it wasn’t something she necessarily specialised in, she still had technical training in that particular style, and enjoyed choreographing routines to it. 

The Paso Doble originated in Spain, supposed to mimic the aggressive movements of a bullfighter and a bull. It’s the ultimate battle of the sexes, and it’s dramatic and it’s intense and the footwork alone is insane. 

In fact, maybe she was wrong, and this was the dance that was going to knock her and Klaus out of the running. She already had a few ideas of what they could run through, but she needed to know that Klaus would be able to keep up with exactly what she had in mind for him. 

Klaus had very quickly turned into the bane of her existence in the best possible way. Their chemistry was insane, and they’d scored the highest with their tango in the first week of the competition, setting  a record along the way. Since then they’d gone from strength to strength. 

Klaus had been the perfect partner. He already kept himself in fairly good physical condition thanks to the amount of time he spent on the road playing music, so that was already a plus in his favour. He could easily complete the lifts that she demanded of him, and he didn’t whinge and complain when something got too hard. 

The quiet intensity he had when he was trying to get a section of a routine down was fascinating to watch. She wondered if he was like that with his music as well. 

She also wondered if he was aware of just how much she was attracted to him. Making their dance routines as sensual as possible was part of the ball game, but she couldn’t help but get flustered by their proximity sometimes, the hot stage lights on the actual dancefloor not exactly helping her case. Klaus didn’t seem to care, he was willing to go along with whatever she had planned. 

Katherine had told her to just sleep with him and get over it, move on, but she wanted to keep things professional with Klaus. Best case scenario was that she still had at least 8 weeks in his company if they managed to progress through to the grand final (and hopefully win), and she did not want that awkward small talk that always happened after falling into bed with each other.

With another deep breath she finally gathers her courage and steps into the studio. Klaus’ gaze zeroes in on her right away, and she’s surprised to see him sitting up against the wall with a guitar in his lap and a pad by his side. 

“Hello sweetheart.” He calls, fingers tapping against the hollow wood. 

She approaches him carefully, not sure if she’s interrupted something. 

“Are you ready to practice, or do you need more time to write?” She replies with a quick smile, dropping her dance bag next to the iPod dock. 

Klaus carefully places his guitar into a case and flips the lid closed. The pad gets stuffed into his satchel, and he turns to hand her the coffee that he’d been hiding from her. 

“You are a godsend Klaus Mikaelson.” 

She watches as his lips curl into a smile, and she tips back the cup towards her mouth. 

“Out of all the names that have been bestowed on me over the years, I’ve yet to hear Godsend.” Klaus’ grin is playful as he gets to his feet suddenly, towering above her as always. 

“So what fresh form of torture do you have in store for me this week sweetheart?”

She just rolls her eyes, turning to throw her coffee cup in the trash. 

“Well since you asked….”

—————————————-

She was going to officially murder whichever genius in wardrobe thought it would be a great idea to put Klaus in a black top that outlines basically everything. 

He may as well dance shirtless for the whole routine instead of half of it like they’d planned. 

It was far too late to protest now, and although Klaus did look slightly uncomfortable with how unforgiving the fabric was (not that he had anything to worry about on that front), he just gave her a curt nod, ever the professional. 

The show as always, must go on after all. 

Right on cue, the voiceover introduces them, and Klaus offers her his hand as they step out onto the floor. 

Their routine is a slightly different interpretation to tradition, and it’s either going to go over well with the judges, or it’s going to get panned. 

She really wanted to have fun with this routine this week. Their game of cat and mouse across the floor involves a lot of close holds, aggressive footwork, and complicated lifts. 

If they’re even one beat out of time, the entire routine falls apart. 

The music starts, and she falls into the routine almost automatically, slipping into that zone where she just gets it done. 

Klaus trails a hand around her waist, and she spins into the circle of his arms before he flings her away from his body, catching up with her on the next three beats. 

He’s absolutely nailing it, and her movements grow more daring as she slips behind him, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt and praying to every god above that it will rip as it’s supposed to, as the wardrobe department promises it does. 

The shirt rips, and the audience goes nuts at the sight of Klaus’ chest on full display, glistening with sweat as he catches her around the wrist and pulls her into him, hands skating all over her as they dance sinously around each other. 

They finish their routine forehead to forehead, and Klaus is staring at her like he’s suddenly seeing her for the first time, his eyes ducking down her body oh so briefly, taking in the way her leg is still hitched around his hip. 

They separate, turning to face the judges table. It’s Bonnie Bennett, world famous choreographer that leans forward with a neutral smile on her face. 

“Guys…” She pauses, more for dramatic effect than anything else. “That was absolutely insane.” 

She can’t stop the grin from creeping across her face. 

————————-

Taking off her heavy stage makeup had sort of become a ritual for her. She genuinely enjoyed wiping away the foundation and the lip stick and the heavy handed lines of eyeliner that made her eyes pop in the bright lighting. 

She felt like it was returning to some form of normality before she had to come back for rehearsals again tomorrow. 

She’s just wiping away the last of her mascara when someone raps on the door of the dressing room before twisting the knob. 

The other dancers were long gone, and she can’t help but be a little nervous at the intrusion, fingers twitching towards her phone just in case. 

Klaus pokes his head around the door, and she relaxes instantly. 

“Hey great work tonight. You absolutely nailed that lift, I didn’t get a chance to tell you before.” She begins with a wan smile as Klaus closes the door gently behind him. 

“Well it’s all thanks to you of course love. You’re the one that choreographs routines that make me look good each and every week. I can hardly wait to see what you come up with next.” 

“Well you know me, I’m just full of surprises.” She attempts to joke, but the tension that suddenly crackles between them barely leaves any room for jesting. 

“Yes you are.” Klaus pronounces softly as he steps closer to her. She lets him. 

Klaus pauses, eyes sweeping over her, taking in the old shirt and pair of tights she’d changed into for the drive home. 

“I like seeing you like this. I feel like I’m seeing the real you.” Klaus comments lightly, hand brushing down her arm oh so gently.

She wants to resist him, wants to push him away and tell him exactly why this is so not a good idea. 

Instead she curls her hands in the fabric of his henley, tugging him down to her level so she can press her lips against his. 

Klaus reciprocates in kind, hands slipping through her hair as he deepens their embrace, even as she wraps an arm around his neck to keep him close to her. 

It’s a mutual decision for them to break apart, and Klaus has a genuine smile on his face when he blinks down at her, before he’s bending down once more to kiss her gently on the cheek. 

“I would love to take you home sweetheart, but I’m beat and I need to sleep. But at least let me walk you to your car.”

She only hesitates for a moment before she reaches out and takes his proffered hand.