Preferably Dresden/Marcone but this kinkmeme has made me ship everyone, so.
DANCING! I would love someone dancing with Harry or teaching him to dance. Not so much looking for ballroom/formal dancing as "hey, this song has a great beat, c'mere" thing.
And I prefer John if only because that leather jacket-wearing young punk we get a glimpse of in White Night? He can dance. You know he can.
Bonus points for not being in public. IDK why, just like the idea of barefoot dancing to favorite songs.
If you like, certainly! Bit too energetic for my tastes, but the idea of someone swing dancing with super tall Harry is fraught with impending hilarity. 8D
imagine someone doing the lindy hop with harry. now that is really fraught with danger (i mean, i'm not saying harry would be bad at it necessarily, only that when harry's doing the flipping, it's a really damn long way from the ground XD)
And Harry, who was dance partner for senior citizens, can waltz and swing and ballroom dance with the best of them, has utterly no idea how to dance to something recorded more recently than 1950 (despite his love of classic rock)?
Considering John's (...basically entirely in my head) love for Joan Jett, Cherry Bomb is no doubt an experience he will have, um. A hard time processing.
Somewhere along the way he combined late 70s, 80s punk and James Dean into a rather ridiculous ensemble, I'm sure. A little bit rebel drag, a little bit street tough, a whole lot of tight jeans.
I am intrigued by your ideas and would like to prescribe to your newsletter. Because yes please. :convinced John was more than a bit of a dish in those days:
Haha. I imagine he took a long time to grow up (and then grew up hard and fast). Pretty shameless, horny half the time, a giant softie in the places that mattered... a bit of steel determination in the other places that mattered. And kind of a fucking tool like boys who think mainly about sex, sleep, and food are. But you know. Not a bad kid. Loved his folks. And utterly aware of how appealing he could make himself, the shit. And then all-grown-up Mister Marcone becomes kind of a classic example of growing into age and bone structure. Handsome, but without the edges. Most of the time.
Now I kinda wish there was more fic about him from those days. But I seem to have a soft spot for fic that rewinds time or AUs everything so the characters are happier. Maybe 'cause the canon is an angst-fest.
It had taken more than a year after John had talked me in to bed but by now we had something that bore a slight resemblance to a domestic routine. If the world wasn’t ending, we weren’t fighting, neither of us were in the hospital, or neither of us had dangerous and possibly illegal work keeping us out late then after dinner we would end up in John’s home office where I would read a paper-back and drink a Coke or beer and he would go over paperwork while listening to the radio. He’s got this computer program or something so the songs are all random. A hip-hop song from the nineties would be followed by a mariachi song. After that it could be heavy metal. Or something that makes even less sense. I asked him once if he even had any particular taste in music. He answered that he was used to working with some kind of noise. One night I was sprawled out on the couch reading about Pern and thinking that the dragons in the book were so much cooler than the ones I knew. (That Ferrofax was an asshole and Kincaid was a dick most of the time.) Something on the radio caught my attention. It was violins but not classical. “I like the feel of your name on my lips,” a deep male voice sang out from the discretely hidden speakers. “And I like the sound of your sweet gentle kiss.” I glanced across the room at John. He was looking back at me with this soft smile that made my heart do a weird little flip. “The way that your fingers run through my hair and how your scent lingers even when you're not there. And I like the way your eyes dance when you laugh.” John got up from his desk and came over to me. “And how you enjoy your two hour bath “ He wordlessly held a hand out to me. “And how you convinced me to dance in the rain with everyone watching like we were insane “ I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “But I love the way you love me. Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely. I Love the way you love me.” He kept his hold on my hand, his other arm wrapped around my waist. My arm went around his shoulders and held him close. “I like to imitate ol' Jerry Lee. And the cue of your eyes when I'm slightly off key.” We moved together across the floor. I pulled him even closer so that his head was tucked under my chin. “And I like the innocent way that you cry at sappy old movies you've seen hundreds of times,” John sang along with the line. “But I love the way you love me. Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely. I Love the way you love me.” I joined in with the chorus, off-key and smiling against his hair. He tilted his head back to look me in the eyes, still singing along. “And I could list a million things I love to like about you, but they all come to one reason. I could never live without you.” We came to a stop and I answered the best way I could. “But I love the way you love me.” I kissed him. Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely. “I Love the way you love me.”
I have no excuse for this, but I am totally blaming my mother. She had a country station playing and that song came on and I just saw Harry and Marcone. If this isn't what OP was looking for I will send you virtual muffin basket in apology.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:23 am (UTC)DANCING! I would love someone dancing with Harry or teaching him to dance. Not so much looking for ballroom/formal dancing as "hey, this song has a great beat, c'mere" thing.
And I prefer John if only because that leather jacket-wearing young punk we get a glimpse of in White Night? He can dance. You know he can.
Bonus points for not being in public. IDK why, just like the idea of barefoot dancing to favorite songs.
Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:27 am (UTC)I have been trying very hard not to post a similar prompt for a while.
...Hey, wait. Would swing dancing be acceptable? Because men swing dancing together may be the cutest thing ever.
Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:28 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:47 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 09:21 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:57 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 07:59 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 08:03 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 08:05 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 08:10 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 08:13 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 08:22 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 09:53 am (UTC)Re: Dancing!
Date: 2011-03-11 03:48 pm (UTC)Fill: Love the Way You Love Me
Date: 2011-03-27 08:36 am (UTC)He’s got this computer program or something so the songs are all random. A hip-hop song from the nineties would be followed by a mariachi song. After that it could be heavy metal. Or something that makes even less sense. I asked him once if he even had any particular taste in music. He answered that he was used to working with some kind of noise.
One night I was sprawled out on the couch reading about Pern and thinking that the dragons in the book were so much cooler than the ones I knew. (That Ferrofax was an asshole and Kincaid was a dick most of the time.) Something on the radio caught my attention. It was violins but not classical.
“I like the feel of your name on my lips,” a deep male voice sang out from the discretely hidden speakers. “And I like the sound of your sweet gentle kiss.”
I glanced across the room at John. He was looking back at me with this soft smile that made my heart do a weird little flip.
“The way that your fingers run through my hair and how your scent lingers even when you're not there. And I like the way your eyes dance when you laugh.”
John got up from his desk and came over to me.
“And how you enjoy your two hour bath “
He wordlessly held a hand out to me.
“And how you convinced me to dance in the rain with everyone watching like we were insane “
I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet.
“But I love the way you love me. Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely. I Love the way you love me.”
He kept his hold on my hand, his other arm wrapped around my waist. My arm went around his shoulders and held him close.
“I like to imitate ol' Jerry Lee. And the cue of your eyes when I'm slightly off key.”
We moved together across the floor. I pulled him even closer so that his head was tucked under my chin.
“And I like the innocent way that you cry at sappy old movies you've seen hundreds of times,” John sang along with the line.
“But I love the way you love me. Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely. I Love the way you love me.” I joined in with the chorus, off-key and smiling against his hair.
He tilted his head back to look me in the eyes, still singing along.
“And I could list a million things I love to like about you, but they all come to one reason. I could never live without you.”
We came to a stop and I answered the best way I could.
“But I love the way you love me.”
I kissed him.
Strong and wild. Slow and easy. Heart and soul. So completely.
“I Love the way you love me.”
I have no excuse for this, but I am totally blaming my mother. She had a country station playing and that song came on and I just saw Harry and Marcone. If this isn't what OP was looking for I will send you virtual muffin basket in apology.