Let me explain something so this imagine will make sense: At dance competitions each dance is scored and given a rank individually. Those rankings (which can vary) are, from lowest to highest: Silver, Gold, High Gold, Platinum, and Platinum Plus. Then, they do overall awards where every dance in a category (based on age, dance style, and sometimes amount of practice or skill) is ranked together and then the first, second, third, etc. place come in. Then, they do overall top scores.

I basically choreographed an entire dance for this imagine...

There are NO Endgame or Far From Home SPOILERS.

Summary: You and Peter have known each other for years because you dance together, and this year you're doing a duet, which could lead to something more...

QOTP: Have you ever taken dance?

Word Count: 4007

You've known Peter Parker since you were three years old. You both started taking dance that year, and you were in the same class. His spot in your dances was always next to yours.

You danced together for about two years when, in the middle of the year, he just stopped coming. You had no idea why until your parents gently explained to you that Peter's parents were gone.

The next year, he was back, and his aunt was bringing him to class (sometimes his uncle, too). You were over the moon.

You were never best friends; you went to different schools, and therefore mostly just saw each other once a week at practice and at recital — and competition when your group started doing it. But you were definitely close.

After one recital, it was late, and you were sitting outside a restaurant your group decided to go to before heading home. You were by yourselves, and he told you why he started dancing in the first place.

"My mom used to dance," he said, a sad smile on his face. "I saw pictures of her dancing and the costumes she kept. I watched the videos my grandmother took of her at her recitals, too. And I wanted to be just like her. Then, I quit when she and my dad died. I almost didn't come back. But... I feel closer to her when I'm dancing."

For the next seven years you danced together. Everything was great, save the general awkwardness when you started middle school.

Then, when you were both twelve, Peter's uncle died. He quit again, right in the middle of the year. You still tried to keep in touch, but you hardly ever texted. You thought about him a lot, though.

The next year, before class started up again, you texted him.

Are you coming back this year?

Surprisingly, it didn't take him long to reply. I don't know. Then, I kind of want to.

You should. Then, you typed, I've missed you, deleted it, and sent We've missed you instead.

It took him longer to reply. May wants me to. Said she could tell how happy it made me.

If it makes you happy then you should.

I'll think about it. A few minutes after that, he asked for the time and date of the first class.

He showed up, and you couldn't've been happier.

Flash forward to about four years later, and you're juniors in high school, still as close as ever.

You've signed up to do a solo this year, which you've been doing for a few years now. Peter did one last year, but he wants to do something else this year — a duet.

You've always wanted to do a duet together, but neither of you ever seriously proposed the idea until now.

"Y/N and I are doing a duet," Peter declares to your dance teacher after class one day.

She smiles. "Just text me what song you want, and we'll start choreographing it."

"And looking for costumes?" you add excitedly.

Your teacher chuckles. "And looking for costumes."

That evening, you and Peter FaceTime, sending each other songs.

"What about something from Hamilton?" he suggests.

"One, there's a lot of swearing, and, two, you know she'll probably make us tap to it."

"You love tap," he replies.

"I also love breathing. And I kinda wanna do something else for our duet. Like lyrical or contemporary. Maybe jazz, if you want to do musical theater."

"If we do Cell Block Tango, you'll get to kill me, like, six times," he jokes.

You laugh. "While I'd love that, it'd be better as a group dance."

His face lights up. "Oh, yeah, true. Let's save that one for jazz next year."

You both continue scrolling through music, occasionally sending each other something.

"A Car, A Torch, A Death?" you suggest.

He listens to it for a minute. "Oh, it's weird. I like it."

"Keep looking, though. We might find something better."

As you continue looking, he excitedly says, "Y/N, I think I've found it."

He sends you a song called Slip Away by Oh Wonder. It's, in short, about two people in a relationship going through a rough patch. Like a really rough patch.

It's sad and quiet and there's so much despair in it, and then the music just builds and builds into a flurry of frustration until it suddenly jumps off the edge, back into that hopeless tone again. The problem is never resolved. It's like a snippet of a bigger story, where the beginning and the conclusion have been cut away.

It's perfect.

"I think you've found it, too," you reply, almost immediately sending it to your teacher.

////

"I love the song you guys picked out," your teacher says. You and Peter are sitting on the floor, stretching. Your teacher is finding the choreography she's written down for you. "When I cut it I'm thinking I want to cut out the intro and verse three. Probably trim some instrumental parts. Are you okay with that?" You and Peter both respond yes, then get started with the choreography. "Alright, you're gonna start on stage..."

You start center stage, back to back, and mirror each other in arm movements on the beat after holding an eight count. Then, you begin to walk away from each other, still facing to the side. You hold another count of four, then contract over as if in pain when the lyrics start.

Then, you slowly come back up, still slightly slouched as if you're exhausted, and turn to face the back. You do a layout, contracting all the way over again as you come out of it, hunched over yourselves in a ball. You stand again, then hold your heads and sway as if they hurt.

Finally, you turn to each other, doing more arm movements and walking inward on the beat. Then comes the next part...

"You're gonna lie down on the stage next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, like the music says," your teach explains. "Then, when it says, 'so close to me,' I want you-" meaning you "- to basically... wrap yourself around Peter. And, Peter, when she does that I want you to roll away from her, almost onto your side. And then when it repeats, I want you to switch roles. Does that make sense?"

It makes sense, but it's also awkward. It takes you a couple tries to get down - Peter rolls too far away and you can't reach him and vice versa, or one of you feels awkward about holding onto the other one.

After that, you stop for the day, leaving you both thinking about that one move despite trying not to.

////

"We should probably start practicing outside of class, too," Peter says as you stretch. "I'm hoping for a Platinum Plus."

You bust out laughing. "Yeah, keep dreaming."

"I'm serious," he replies, though he's laughing.

"The best you're getting is a High Gold."

"Well, with that attitude, yeah."

By this point, your teacher is ready to continue the dance. She's cut it already, but she's still looking at costumes. You run what you have, then start adding to it. "After that part on the floor, you're gonna get up quickly, facing away from each other, when it says, 'I creep away'. Then, you're gonna do a calypso turn in opposite directions."

You do that a couple times, getting it down. Then you add an arabesque par terre, and hold that for a few counts.

"Now slowly lift your back foot off the floor into an arabesque à la hauteur," your teacher says, "then flip around, turning on your foot to face the audience but keeping your leg in the air, and contract over when you put your leg back down."

After that, you do chaîné turns inward, then mirror each other in arm movements again, this time facing each other. Then, you both turn away, upset, and walk away from each other.

You stop there, and your teacher says you'll try to get it done at the next practice so you can start cleaning it up.

////

You're stretching again, quiet considering you're both tired. It's Saturday, so of course neither of you went to bed at a decent time last night.

"You look like death," Peter says.

It hurts you a little bit, but you can tell he's mostly joking. "Gee, thanks."

"I mean, I do, too — and you don't normally look like death," he adds quickly.

Your quirk a brow. "So what do I normally look like."

"... Life?"

"Thanks, Pete," you reply sarcastically.

He hurriedly corrects himself. "No, I mean- crap-"

"I look like crap?" you interrupt, suppressing a laugh.

"No, no, you look... You look... cute? Yeah, cute. That's what I meant."

Before you can reply, your teacher says, "I picked out your costumes!"

You excitedly run over to look at them, and you're very happy with what you see.

You quickly get started after that, hoping to finish the dance today. You run it once, then add on.

After the arabesque stuff, you dance for a few more eight counts — until after the second 'oh, my, my, my' — doing the same movements but far away from each other.

Then, you take three desperate steps toward him as he moves three steps back. After, you switch; you turn around, upset, and run three steps away as he runs towards you, reaching out.

After that, you both break down where you're standing, contracting and moving your arms. Your back is still to him.

Then, the impressive turns and leaps kick in as the music builds and you begin to get more desperate and frustrated. You start doing different moves at the same time, adding to the chaos. You do a single move at the same time occasionally, then go back to doing different things, creating a cool visual effect.

When the music gets quiet again, you come back together, then practically fall into each other, too tired to keep going. You wrapped your arms around each other and rest your heads on the other person's shoulder. This part is awkward for you, too, but it's in the choreography, so what can you do?

On the last line, you move your heads to look at each other. It's dramatic, and it's the perfect ending pose, though you're both very aware of how close your faces are.

After that, you do the dance in its entirety twice, then leave with the promise of cleaning it up at the next practice.

////

So are we getting that Platinum Plus or what? You phone buzzes with the text from Peter.

You chuckle. What do you mean?

I'm surprisingly free right now, he sends. Then, Free to, ya know, practice our dance.

You hesitate for only a moment, trying to decide if you want to get out of bed right now or not. I'm free right now, too. I guess we can work on what she went over at the last practice.

You already started cleaning the dance up, which mostly consisted of fixing technique and making sure you show as much emotion as possible.

Peter comes to your house to practice, considering you have a decently-sized basement.

You stretch and joke around, telling stories from school, Peter mostly talking about his friend, Ned, whom you've seen at recitals and sometimes at competitions when he comes to support Peter.

Then, you start the dance.

You're completely focused on it — the choreography, the music, the emotion — but then it comes time for the floor part.

All you can think about is Peter and how close to him you are for those fleeting seconds. Your heart starts racing, and not just due to the fact that you're dancing. Little do you know, he's in the same boat.

You get yourself focused again until the end, when you have to fall into each other.

You and Peter have hugged before, of course — when one of you was upset or one (or both) of you just did really good on a performance — but this is different. It's the context of the dance, and being that close to him throws you off completely. You almost forget to look at him at the end of the song, which creates it's own problems.

You're so close that one of you would hardly have to lean forward for you to be kissing. Every time, that's all either of you can think about. That's really evident when neither of you move until the song starts replaying, and it startles you into moving.

"That was good," Peter says simply. Then, he adds, "Though you stumbled on that tour jeté."

"Shut up!" you reply as he laughs. "You messed up the fuetes!"

"You know I'm bad at those!" he argues, but he's still laughing.

"Those were Silver-worthy fuetes."

"Well, now you've gone too far."

You practice some more, then decide to switch to practicing your group dances. Then, you do your solo a couple times, Peter providing serious and not-so-serious critiques.

After that, he heads home, and you see him again at practice a few days later. Competition is coming up, and you're preparing all of your dances for it.

////

"We're gonna kill it."

"We're gonna kill it."

"We're so gonna kill it."

You're saying that to each other backstage at your first competition. You've already done your group dances and the awards for those — three High Golds and a first and two third places — and your solo, which will be apart of the same awards as your duet. You're about to go on.

You and Peter say one last good luck, then you walk to the other side of the stage, where you'll walk on from. Finally, the dance before you finishes.

"Please welcome to the stage #135, Teen Lyrical Duo, 'Slip Away'," the announcer says. You walk on, take your starting positions, and then the music starts.

You both give it your all, though nerves get the best of you at times — particularly the times where you have to be close to each other — and you stumble a little bit. Then, Peter forgets part of his choreography during the part where you're doing different things and makes something up on the spot until he can get himself back on track. It's a little shaky, but no one would know that wasn't the choreography besides you two and your teacher.

At the end of it all, you get High Gold and third place on both your solo and the duet. Could've been worse.

////

In the past two comps, your duet has received another High Gold and third place, then a Platinum and second place (your group dances received High Golds, second, fourth, and fifth place, then two High Golds, a Platinum, and second, third, and first place, and your solo received two High Golds and two second places).

The Platinum performance was the best you've ever done, and you both were ecstatic, as was your teacher. Your fellow dancers were happy for you, too.

"Platinum Plus," Peter says to you. You're standing backstage at your fourth — and final — competition of the year.

"Platinum Plus," you repeat. That's your goal for this one.

Eventually, you make your way to the other side of the stage, waiting for the dance before you to finish. You see Peter on the other side. He nods at you, and you nod back.

Focus, you think. Just feel the music and focus.

Finally, the announcer says, "Please welcome to the stage #103, Teen Lyrical Duo, 'Slip Away'."

You walk out, then turn, back to back with Peter. The contact is almost comforting, and you take a deep breath. Then, the music starts.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

You hold the eight count, then begin the arm movements, reaching all the way through to your fingers. You walk away from Peter, almost missing the contact, but you stay focused. It doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music.

I sleep away all the light. I keep away, out of sight, out of sight. And when the day turns to night, I slip away and lose my mind, lose my mind.

You feel the pain of the music - the sadness - as you contract as if someone's punched you in the stomach. Peter does the same on the other side of the stage.

You turn, do the layout, the next contraction, raise slowly, and sway on your feet. Each step flows into the next, your expression constantly sad but also changing at the same time. Telling the story.

Oh my, my, my. Oh, how I tried.

You turn to face each other, coming in to meet in the middle. Both of your expressions are sad, but you don't consciously register it. You're both apart of the music, like the three of you have become one thing. One story, flowing from beginning to end.

And as we lie silently, your body's soft, so close to me, close to me. I creep away and let you sleep. I dreamed today, tomorrow speaks.

You lie down next to each other, the closeness present in the back of your mind as you move together in the same directions. You wrap yourself around him, then roll away as he wraps himself around you.

You stand quickly and do the best calypso turns you've ever done in your lives. Then, the arabesques, the turn, the next contraction. You aren't just showing the pain and despair of the music, you're really feeling it. You actually think you might cry.

Oh my, my, my. Oh, how I tried.

You do turns towards each other, then do more arm movements, reaching with desperation.

It's only then that you really realize why you're feeling the music so deeply.

You like Peter — maybe even love him. And you've tried to push those feelings away or even tell him about them, failing in both cases. You're wanting, waiting for something to happen — for those feelings to be reciprocated or to just go away.

And, in that moment, Peter realizes the same thing.

Oh my, my, my...

You dance, far apart again. Turning and reaching and feeling and breathing, still lost in the music playing over the speakers as it begins to build.

Oh my, my, my. Oh, how I tried.

You run toward him, and he moves away; it's almost symbolic for how you think he feels about you. Then, you turn, hurt, and run as he moves towards you, causing him to have the same thought.

Oh my, my, my. Oh, how I tried. And my, my, my. My, my, my. Oh, how I tried...

You contract over, reaching out on the beat, breaking down. Peter does the same.

Then, you both bust out, your movements — leaps and turns and jumps — controlled but containing a sense of building sadness and frustration.

The choreography splits, and Peter doesn't forget this time. You don't either. It comes together, then splits apart, comes together, splits apart. You're breathless, but you hardly notice.

Oh my, my, my. Oh, how I tried. Oh my, my, my.

The building drops off and the choreography comes together again, as do you and Peter. The frustration is gone, and it's replaced with an exhaustion you don't have to fake; you've given this dance your all.

You fall into each other and wrap your arms around him, finally getting sucked out of the music by the thought that you wish you could hug him like this all the time. That you could always be this close.

Oh, how I tried.

You both look up, and you can faintly hear clapping, but you're instantly stilled by his proximity. You don't think about the fact that you have to walk off. He doesn't either.

What he does, though — on impulse, possibly because of endorphins or adrenaline or a simple burst of courage — is lean forward, brushing his lips against yours. All in the span of a few seconds.

It shocks you, and then you remember where you are, what you're doing. You turn and run off, leaving him standing there for a few moments before he realizes he has to run off, too. It only adds to the performance.

When you're off stage, you don't stop running. You're headed straight for Peter, who ran off the other side. He's heading for you, too.

You meet in the middle as you practically jump into his arms. He chuckles. "So, you're not mad?"

"Mad?" you ask as he sets you down. "Why would I be mad?"

He shrugs, his face red. "You ran off and I just did it without asking you or anything-"

"I've been wanting to do that for forever," you interrupt.

He grins. "Me, too."

////

"Let's start with our Judges' Awards," the announcer says. You and Peter are sitting on stage with the other dancers for awards. Your hand is in his.

After changing and meeting back with your dance teacher, parents, and his aunt, you went off alone — on the pretense of looking at the professional pictures — and talked about things. Long story short, you started dating that day.

(You also went and actually looked at the pictures. They somehow managed to capture the kiss, as well as some really good pictures of you two mid-jump. Your mother bought them.)

Two judges give out their awards, then the third one comes up. "My award is called the 'Made Me Cry' award." She gets a laugh at that. "The two dancers in this dance not only danced today, but they told a story. Their expressions — the sheer emotion in that dance — were so amazing that I actually cried a little. So, I am awarding this to #103, 'Slip Away'."

Peter goes up to get the award, as he's been doing at every competition. She asks him his name and your name, then the name of your studio and choreographer.

Then, they start rankings. You clap for the other people in your studio who did solos/duets/trios, waiting for your solo and the duet.

"#83, 'Cages', Platinum," the announcer says. You jump up as everyone cheers — Peter cheering the loudest — and grab your award.

Some time later, they finally make it to the Teen Lyrical Duo category. There's ten entries, including yours.

Finally, the announcer says, '#107, 'Slip Away', Platinum Plus."

The entire stage erupts in cheers, and you're pretty sure you scream. Peter grabs the award, and he's so happy in that moment that he kisses you right then and there.

Later on, your solo gets first place in your category. The duet gets first in its category.

They rank the top overall solos and you get second, which you're perfectly happy with. Then, they rank the top overall duos/trios, and you and Peter get first. You both go up and tell them your names, studio, and choreographer.

Then, they do overall high score awards. Out of the entire Teen division, you and Peter get first. You also get the high score in the duo/trio category. You're starting to think that people are getting tired of hearing your names.

And you haven't even done your group dances yet.