Hello people!

It's been a very long time since I last uploaded something, but by chance I watched Step Up 2 a few days ago, which really isn't my typical genre, but the scene where Blake Collins is giving Andie private lessons just got my fingers itching. And since I really couldn't find a fic that contained exactly what I wanted I decided to write one myself instead of whining XD

It's actually my first try at writing a 'proper' one-shot, but I'm quite satisfied with how it turned out.

Lastly, I would just like to point out that this isn't a romance per se (or maybe it is. I'm not entirely sure), even though I will be posting it as one - I just didn't know how else to categorize it.

There is no lemon as I don't feel I have the skills to write one without ruining the story.

Anyway, enjoy the story and please leave me a review with your thoughts - good and bad ;)

Listen and interpret


Even without taking the auditions into account, she was fairly certain that she and the almighty Director Collins would never get along. Just look at her first group lesson. She didn't do quiet, delicate music – she jumped, spun and shook like her life depended on it.

What the hell was he thinking?

When he told her she had to have extra lesson she tried to protest, but it was useless. She idly wondered who was going to kill who first.


"Point your toes".

She discretely rolled her eyes and stuck her foot out. He let out an exasperated sigh, "you're circling".

He bent down and grabbed her leg, "there should be no curve disrupting the line from the knee all the way down to the tip of your toe".

He pushed her knee and foot until they were in the right position. The hand on his shoulder tightened and he could feel the nails digging in.

"Ouch! Pointing hurts!" Andie withdrew her leg from his grip, putting an end to the torture. Now it was Collins turn to roll his eyes, "Yeah, it's supposed to".

The sadistic bastard made her practice pointing her toes for the rest of the lesson. The sadistic bastard was quite pleased with himself.



Her fall dragged him to his knees. "Serves him right", Andie thought as she lay on the floor. She heard him sigh audibly, which was something he seemed to be doing every 5 minutes in her company. She didn't know whether to feel proud or guilty.

That girl definitely had to be one of the most tiresome people he had ever had the misfortune of teaching, but he was determined to turn her into an exceptional dancer. He knew he could, he was the best after all.

The most irritating part though, was the fact that Andie West had amazing potential, she was just too damn stubborn for her own good. Luckily, so was he.

He got up and showed her a new movement and did nothing to hide the rolling of his eyes when he caught her mimicking a kick to his back in the mirrors that covered the back wall.


She was out of breath. This jumping up and down and flicking your toes-business was hard work.

"Keep up, Miss West".

She managed a quiet scowl and an imitation of his annoying 'ballet face' as she'd dubbed it in her head. Oh how she wanted to wipe that annoying smug look of his pretty face when he egged her on to push just a little bit further.


Yes, she did find him attractive – who wouldn't? He had a hot, toned body and a pretty face, but she soon found that it was his passion that really got her hot and bothered – especially when he was mid-rant about why she had to point her toes – green eyes burning, hands gesturing wildly, voice roughening.

"Hmm, might be a good idea to start listening", she thought. Apparently she was supposed to learn how to do a 'proper' pirouette. She wouldn't miss it for the world.

At least she was a fast learner he found, though he didn't give much for her attitude – she always had to mock up the first few tries before she pulled herself together and did what he told her. He just hoped she wouldn't break something doing the pirouette.

Well... Or maybe he didn't.


Sometimes, unfortunately it was only a fragment of the time they spent together, but sometimes she would suddenly focus with such intensity – her eyes ablaze, her lips drawn together in an determined line, every muscle in her body working in harmony, working towards perfecting the move he was trying to teach her – that all he could do was stare at the breath-taking scene in front of him.

She had observed that his choice of clothing had changed during the last week of training – while he in the beginning didn't seem to bother changing out of his formal clothing, he now always wore loose-fitted training outfits in their lessons.

"Probably a good sign", she thought, deciding that it meant he had upped his commitment to her lessons. It did make her feel just a tiny bit pleased.


She was angry. And hurt. How dare they kick her out!

Today was going to be hell.

"She is angry today" he thought as he observed her – her every move aggressive.

They'd started out practicing some of the more delicate movements of the ballet, but he soon realised that she needed an outlet. He changed the music to something harder – more upbeat.

She stopped and looked at him, puzzled.

"Okay, improvise. But no street dance".

She scowled at him, but did as he said without a word.

For the next hour he relentlessly corrected her every move – taunting her, provoking her into turning the pend-up anger into something real and constructive.

She didn't have time to think, his endless remarks only fuelling her determination to show him that she could take anything he threw at her. She jumped, spun and dropped to the floor in ways that had started to feel familiar to her, never hesitating, just letting her instincts guide her.

When he finally turned off the music and yelled, "Enough", she was out of breath and surprised to realise that she felt completely calm. As she said goodbye to Director Collins she was certain she saw a smug grin and a knowing look in his eyes.

However much she wanted to deny it, the man probably understood her quite well. Maybe even better than she did herself.


Their lessons had changed these past two days, he mused as he watched her retreating back after they were done. Her focus had increased, her determination intensified...

Ever since that Tuesday when he's pushed her through her anger and hurt.


He was late.

Suddenly he burst through the door, still in his suit – she had learned the past few weeks that that meant he had come straight from a meeting and if the look on his face was anything to go by, it hadn't been a good one, which meant he would probably go extra hard on her.

As he unceremoniously dropped his jacket and started pulling off his tie he said, "Choose some music and start", his eyes daring her to choose anything too hip-hop-y.

Andie assessed him as he put the tie down and loosened the two top buttons on his shirt. She knew with certainty what he needed. The question was how to make him realise.

He was pleasantly surprised when it was 'proper' music that started playing in the speakers. A little darker and a little faster than what they usually practiced to, but it matched his mood perfectly.

He watched her dance for a few minutes in silence before he stopped the music, "Stop! That's not good enough. You keep getting half a step behind the music."

She slowly got up from her position on the floor, where she had been halfway through a roll. She glared at him, the challenge clear in her eyes, "Then show me what to do".

Without a word he started the music again and stalked over to her. She was surprised when he grabbed her hand and slung the other around her waist, pulling her closer, "fine" he sneered, "do try to keep up."

And she did. They moved in perfect sync, Andie matching his every step, their feet a blur on the studios polished floor.

Slowly calmness crept through his mind, but he kept dancing. Something new and undefined driving him.

She was focused, passion, unbeknownst to her, burning in her eyes as she spun away from him, then back before dropping into a split at his feet. As he slowly, in complete harmony with the music, pulled her to her feet she looked up into his face.

And suddenly saw the fire in his eyes. The raw passion burning, maybe not for her, but for what they were doing. And she knew, without a doubt, that that passion, that drive, was reflected in her own.

She stopped dancing but didn't let go. She raised herself on her toes, bringing their faces just a fraction closer together.

"What are you doing" he panted, out of breath from their fervent dancing.

"Listening", she answered, equally breathless, moving closer, leaving only an inch between them, "Interpreting".

She closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. It only took him a split second to respond.

He wrapped an arm around her, trying to pull her closer, the other in her hair, angling her head and deepening the kiss.

The kiss was scolding. Andie felt lightheaded as she dug her nails into his shoulders, daring him to stop. At the first chance she got she thrust her tongue in his mouth, challenging him to keep up. Which he did.

Somehow he managed to manoeuvre her backwards without her realising until she suddenly felt the cool, smooth surface of the mirror against the bare part of her back. She shuddered.

When they finally broke apart for air, they were both panting harder than if they had been dancing.

They looked at each other as Blake leant his forehead against hers, their eye contact never breaking. As he took in the passion burning darkly in her eyes, he realised what she had done. How deep her understanding of him was.

He didn't waste more time as he pressed their lips together in a soul-searing kiss that left them both wanting more.

Her nimble fingers moved to his shirt buttons and she frantically started undoing them. As she reached the last one his hands slit to her thighs before lifting her up , pressing her further against the mirror and forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist.

She felt like she was drowning from the kiss. Couldn't decide where to put her hands. Frantically alternating between skimming his bare chest and burying them in his hair.

It wasn't long before they started an entirely different dance even more desperate and frenzied than their last one.

In the afterglow in each other's arms, Blake turned to her and smiled, "I think you're ready to join the group lessons again."

Andie smiled at him in return, "Thank you".

They knew they wouldn't walk out of the studio as lovers, maybe not even as friends, but at least with the knowledge that they both understood the passion driving them both to do the thing they loved the most.

The end

Thank you for reading! You, my friend, are awesome!