Teach Me How to Dance | Steve Rogers x Reader
Steve had looked so adorably nervous when he had asked you for a dance, and now, on the dance floor, it was no different.
"Wait, so I-I'm so sorry!" he exclaims, as he accidentally steps on your foot, causing you to grimace in pain.
"You really don't know how to dance, do you?" you laugh, watching Bucky, who was close to tears from laughter, attempt to poorly signal to Steve.
"Look, Steve, I don't know why you're so uncomfortable. We've been friends for years."
It was true; having been best friends for a total of nearly seven years now, the three of you had become nearly inseparable, so when Steve had requested a dance, you had been taken aback, but not uncomfortable.
"It's my first time!" he protests, hair falling into his eyes as he contorts his face in concentration, stumbling over his own feet.
You stifle a giggle, shooting daggers at Bucky, who instantly puts his palms up in surrender, before turning back to Steve, smiling faintly.
"It's not that difficult," you explain, taking one of his hands. Slowly, you guide it to your waist, where Steve's hand barely grazes it, hovering over your dress hesitantly. He's nearly as red as a tomato now, and you laugh again. "And one hand on my shoulder." You say brightly, guiding his other hand to your shoulder.
The soft, jazzy atmosphere of the bar seems to melt away as you lean in, placing a soft hand on his chest.
"What now?" Steve whispers, breathless.
You smile, content to merely rest your head on him, but you take up his hand anyways, moving your feet.
"Now, we dance."