Thorns likes to watch Elysium dance.
He’d start out by tapping his foot to the beat of a song he hums to himself, songs that Thorns knows like the back of his hand from how often he heard the Liberi play it on his cherished music player. He’d be sweeping the floor, or tidying up piles of paper, or picking up Thorns’ clothes haphazardly strewn across their room, and he’d suddenly start swaying his hips and moving about with the sort of awkward grace that comes with having long limbs.
Elysium is nowhere near as fluid with his movements as Thorns is, but as time passes he’s no longer as clumsy as when they first started dancing together by the shores of Siesta. He no longer stumbles and staggers as he tries to avoid stepping on Thorns’ feet, or grip his hand too tightly in fear of lurching sideways when Thorns twirls him around–which is already a difficult feat with their height difference. He doesn’t shy away from Thorns’ curious gaze anymore as they stride across the tiled floor of the training room in the dead of night, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull Thorns to an impromptu jig session by the hangar when an AUS song plays from the overhead speaker, shimmying in place with a grin that rivals even the bright rays of sunlight beaming down at them.
Elysium radiates confidence, even when he no longer moves in sync with the rhythm, or when he accidentally slips and would fall flat on his back were it not for Thorns’ arms wrapped securely around his waist. He would laugh, abashed, the sound light and airy, a melody more addicting than any drug that exists in Terra. It spills from the bold smile on his face as he proudly shows Thorns a move that he’s painstakingly mastered, an intricate footwork that he’d only shown the Liberi a few days ago. His eyes, while dull in color, glimmer like coins of silver, shining with excitement and satisfaction before Thorns cups his face and kisses him for his efforts.
It’s satisfying to watch Elysium groove to a tune that only he knows, because he moves like he feels the music coursing through his body, simply to enjoy himself without caring for the complexity that comes with formal dancing.
That’s why Thorns simply stands at the entrance of their room, arms crossed with a thin smile on his face as he follows Elysium’s dramatic prancing and excessive head bobbing, his back turned against the Aegirian. His sweet tenor as he sings along to the funky pop music from the stereo blankets the enclosed space with a warmth that distinctly feels like home. He watches the corners of his eyes crinkle as they form crescent moons, and his heart is full with fondness and endearment.
Thorns steps forward, grabs Elysium by the wrist to halt him in the middle of his one-man performance and take him by surprise, a squeak escaping his lips as he whirls around to face Thorns with wide eyes and ruffled ear-feathers. The song continues to play in the background while he maneuvers the other until they’re face-to-face, his hand slotting perfectly at Elysium’s hip. He pulls him closer, almost flush against each other.
“Can I join you?”
The look of shock immediately melts into the blinding smile that Thorns can never look away from, eyes gentle and mirroring the very same affection Thorns undoubtedly has in his own gaze. Elysium twines their fingers, leaning forward until their foreheads are pressed together. And as they begin to fall into a step that feels almost as natural as breathing, he whispers into the small space between them.
“Always.”