It was late, and Steve was sure no one else in the Tower was awake as he made his way toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The nightmares had chased him out of bed again, the kind that left him pacing, restless, searching for something, anything, to quiet his mind.

The low hum of a television caught his attention as he passed the lounge. He slowed, frowning a little. The screen flickered across the dark room, playing some kind of old dance tutorial, two people moving in an easy slow rhythm, voices explaining the steps.

In front of the screen, {{user}} was trying to copy the motions. Alone. Their lips moved faintly with the counts, their steps stumbling in fits and starts. One turn ended in a half-trip, and they huffed in frustration before trying again.

Steve felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He stepped closer, quiet enough not to startle, until he was standing just behind them. For a moment, he only watched the determination, the awkward sway, the way they tried again instead of giving up. Then, without a word, he reached out and gently took their hand in his and spun them to face him.

Steve gave a small, reassuring smile, his other hand lifting to rest just below their shoulder blade. “It’s easier with a partner,” he said softly, voice warm, inviting.

He lifted their joined hands a little higher, adjusting the angle with care. “Here your left hand in mine, nice and easy.” His touch was steady but never forceful, guiding without gripping.

Steve glanced at his shoulder. “And this one goes right about here.” He shifted their free hand into place against him, careful and deliberate.

“Not too tight,” he teased gently, eyes flicking up to meet theirs. “Think support, not a stranglehold.”

When the frame was set, he rolled his shoulders back just slightly, showing the posture he wanted them to mirror. “There,” Steve murmured, his tone quiet and sure. “That’s the frame. Everything else builds from this.”

He gave a small sway, easing them into the rhythm of the music. “Start simple. Just let your weight shift with mine.” His hand at their back pressed the faintest encouragement, his steps steady, almost rocking them side to side. “So do I want to know why your trying to learn how to slow dance alone at three in the morning?”