The Peppermint Twist

by gritsinmisery

Summary:

Napoleon explores his dancing style.

Notes:

For the "Twist" challenge (#213) at slashthedrabble.

In the 1950s and '60s, the Peppermint Lounge was the place to see and be seen for everybody from Greta Garbo to Jackie Onassis. Joey Dee and the Starliters were a headliner band there, and introduced "The Peppermint Twist" in 1961.

The Peppermint Twist

They were packed in past the fire marshal's limit at the Peppermint Lounge. Joey Dee and the Starliters made a triumphant showing their first night back from their European tour, with the substitution of one blond Russian for their sick keyboardist. Napoleon spent the night on the dance floor, partnering actresses, socialites, pretty nobodies who'd made it past the doorman, and all three Ronettes.

The club had closed and the partners were walking home. Napoleon, nearly as high on adrenaline as he would be after an Affair, needed to talk. "I didn't know you played rock-and-roll; I thought you only liked jazz."

"Then we were equally uninformed, Napoleon. I did not know you could dance the Twist, nor dance for such an extended period, nor with such enthusiasm." Illya, finding the crush exhausting, was glad to have been pressed into service away from the crowd.

Waggling his eyebrows, Napoleon smirked, "I too have resources, partner mine."

After they'd walked a while longer, Illya remarked, "I also did not realize it was such a… suggestive dance, until I saw you perform it."

"Suggestive?" Stopping, Napoleon turned toward his partner, puzzled.

Illya stopped as well, looking past Napoleon, his cheeks slightly red in the bluish gleam of the streetlights. "Yes. You lead from… the hips."

"Ohhhhh." Glancing around, Napoleon spotted the closest alley. He grabbed Illya's arm and dragged him down it, just past the reach of the streetlight's glow. "C'mere. You mean like this?" Wrapping his fingers around Illya's hips, Napoleon pulled them together until they were touching from chest to knee. He started moving against his partner as if performing the Twist, humming softly.

Startled, Illya tried to pull away. "Now, I know this dance is not done cheek-to-cheek."

Napoleon wrapped one arm around his partner's back and used the other hand to press them firmly together below the waist. "I just want to fully grasp all the subtle implications of the dance, to see if I'm really being suggestive. Round and round, up and down…" He urged Illya's hips to counter the movements of his own.

"Napoleon!" Illya's exclamation was more a breathy gasp than a shout as his body responded to the friction.

Still, Napoleon wanted no attention drawn their way. "Shhh, tovarisch," he murmured, lowering his mouth to Illya's. Their tongues took up the dance, and the movements of their bodies changed into one much older than the Twist.

"Napoleon?" Sometime later, when Napoleon's mouth left his to explore his neck, Illya tried to get his partner's attention.

Napoleon was quick to offer reassurance. "You very definitely have this down, Illya."

Reassurance was not the purpose of Illya's inquiry. "I am a very quick study. But do you not think it more appropriate to do this 'dancing' indoors?"

"You may have a point." Napoleon slowly pushed back from his partner. "Lead on, MacDuff."

Flushed and rumpled, Illya still managed to look disapproving. "That's 'Lay on, MacDuff.' I shall, as soon as we arrive at your apartment."