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The Complete Fic Directory
- All I Do Each Night Is Rehearse The Pray Routine
- Appendicitis
- An Act Of Un-Remembrance
- Beginnings
- Better Than Today - Kylie Minogue
- Black
- Breathe Out
- Christmas Shopping
- Choreography
- Dancers
- Dangling
- Days
- Default Settings/Do You Love Me? [Part One]
- Displacement Theory [Blue]
- DJ (I Could Be Dancing) - Alphabeat
- Enchanted
- Ends (Loose And Otherwise) [Ends]
- Enemies
- Family
- Fine Time To Lose Your Mind - Jack McManus
- Fireworks
- Flat Tyres And Palm Prints [Birth]
- Flu
- Friends: A Dictionary [Friends]
- From Angels To The Moon/The Soup
- Green Light [Green]
- Hell Raisers
- Home Invasion
- Hours
- In My Veins
- Insides
- It Was The Death Of Something [Death]
- Just Like Children [Children]
- Kiss And Make Up
- The Last Time
- Lonely At Christmas
- Love Songs
- Lovers
- Middles
- Midnight Sun
- Mistletoe
- Months Go By [Months]
- More Important Than Fear
- Muddied Stars [Brown]
- Not Enough
- Of Peacocks
- On The Subject Of Angels [Orange]
- Playing House [Parents]
- The Price Of Friendship
- The Prize
- Post-Match Analysis
- Puddles
- Red
- Secret Admirer
- Secret Agent Owen
- Shades
- Shine - Skies Of America
- Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
- Snap
- So Good To See You
- Stage Fright
- Stay (Oh Darlin')
- Study In Motion
- Summertime Feeling - S Club 7
- Sunrise
- Sunset
- Teammates
- That Night In Amsterdam/Do You Love Me? [Part Two]
- This
- Three Sets Of Three
- Twenty-Nine (And A Half)
- Under A Colourless Sky [Colourless]
- We Found Something That Belongs To You [Outsides]
- We Were Strangers Once [Strangers]
- Weeks
- What Did You Say This Time?
- What Will The Papers Say? [Purple]
- White Out [White]
- The Wordsmith/Breathe In
- Years
- Yellow
- Yesterday's Promise
- 3-0 Defeats
- Barlow's Music Shop Series
- Fanfiction Challenges
- The Postcard Prompts
- OT3, OT4 & OT5
- Stories By Band Member
- Stories By Ship
- Stories By Genre
- Stories By Era
- Band-Free AUs
- Prompt Requests
- Other Fandom Fics
- Follow Me
Choreography
_ It’s all choreography. All of it. The hand on the
arm when the plane’s taking off, the shapes to make on the bed when the
darkness gets daunting. The steps are agreed in advance, through looks and nods
which pass between them in comfortable silence. New ones have been added over
time but there are old ones still there too. Howard knows things about every
routine, things other people have never known and will probably never find out.
Things like the fact that Jason will often initiate the dance. His frailties,
his fears. The things no one else but Howard knows about Jason. Howard is
quiet, shy even, but Jason isn’t as unafraid as he looks. Howard knows. Jason
is built of fragile things, like
crystal-cut glass and gold-leaf and snowflakes. Things that glitter in the sun.
Things that break apart too, into hundreds of sparkling little pieces. All
beautiful, but none quite as glorious as the thing as it was in one piece.
Howard holds Jason, sometimes close and sometimes at a distance. Whatever it
takes to keep the pieces together for today. It’s all in the choreography
though. Jason knows his part just as well, understands his own significance in
it all, not that he would ever be so bold as to call himself crucial to the routine.
His modesty can’t change the truth, however. Because the secret to good
choreography is understanding. Jason has always been very good at understanding
Howard, has always been the best at understanding him. And, as complex a creation as Jason might be,
he’s not as inscrutable as people think he is. Or perhaps that’s not true,
perhaps Howard’s just better at following choreography that most people are.
Unless on stage, he has to go first. He takes the pen to sign the first
autograph, he steps out in front of the eager photographer. And all he has to
do is just tilt his shoulders, just slightly. There’s an angle he has to hold
them at, a certain way he has to turn his head too. He is angled towards the
outside world and towards Jason all at once. Forming a line not unlike a
shield. He forms the barrier, the one that stops their dance being intruded
upon, that sustains the steps and, more importantly, prevents untrained hands knocking
Jason’s fragile bones to bits. Jason is behind him for this dance, always. Just
as strong, in his own, unique way. There for Howard to lean into when he
doesn’t know what to say, there to touch a hand to Howard’s back to keep him
from falling too deeply into a daydream. His body curls back, his head turns
down. He forms a shadow of Howard’s shape, fitting himself to it and all but
disappearing. It’s all in the routine, though. So Howard knows he’s there. Everything
they do is choreography. All of it. Even if they are the only ones who know.