#imagining the dance moment with Holt from B99

[moviegremlin]

I think 9-1-1 should take more advantage that Ryan Guzman has danced before with the Step Up movies. I need an emergency where these skills can come to play. Like responding to a basic emergency on the street that breaks up some street dancing happening and for some reason Eddie has to step in to fight for the 118’s honor.

The crew? Concerned. They want to know why Eddie is delusional (again).

But then he kills it (obviously) and the rest of the crew is just like what??

Imagine the jokes from Chim? The glances from Hen. Bobby, he would love that he isn’t the only one that had like a random sport as a kid. And Buck? Buck can’t speak and is red in the face.

[vernonfielding]

If you a boy or a girl, do a jump and a twirl

Story No. 6 of my Season 7 Countdown Project!

Summary: “I was hula hooping. Kevin and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

This is the story of Ryamond Holt’s hula hoop injury as told by Kevin. Takes place just before Unsolvable. (Read on AO3.)

Raymond is so handsome in the mid-morning sunshine, which is making the dark skin on his forearms and the smooth crown of his head glow, as if he’s lit from within. He’s smiling to himself, just the smallest curl of his lips, as he pencils in the crossword – Saturday’s puzzle, his favorite of the week because it’s difficult but not too showy (“Why must Sunday be so flamboyant?” he said once, before tucking the newspaper into the recycling bin with a grimace.).

Kevin sips at his oolong tea, finding it impossible to focus on his own academic reading when his husband is being such a tease.

“Raymond,” he says, and then sighs fondly and repeats himself when there’s no reply.

“Hm,” Raymond hums, lifting his eyebrows but still focused on the puzzle. He taps the eraser of the pencil against his lower lip and Kevin quivers.

“I was thinking,” Kevin says, and pauses to clear his throat. “I was thinking that we might do something fun today.”

Raymond looks up, startled. “Fun?”

“Indeed,” Kevin says. “Have you ever tried hula hooping?”

Raymond grants him a curious look and leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I have not,” he says.

“There’s a class this afternoon,” Kevin says. “I thought we could give it a try.”

“Don’t you mean, give it a spin?”

“Oh, Raymond,” Kevin says, and swats him on the thigh.

+++

It’s true that Kevin worries less about Raymond, now that he’s met the detectives of the 99th Precinct.

He was so proud of and pleased for his husband when he finally won his own command, but Kevin’s happiness was tempered by trepidation. Raymond already had endured decades – an entire career – of harassment, both overt and concealed. He’d earned his command a hundred times over, and yet. And yet.

Those first few weeks at the precinct had been far from perfect, and more often than not Raymond had come home hours after his shift was supposed to have ended, the muscles in his neck and shoulders stiff with tension. But Kevin thought he’d seemed satisfied, even enthused, by the work. Still, it had taken Raymond’s birthday party – or rather, the aftermath of the party – to convince Kevin that his husband was in good hands.

Now, Kevin knows that he can trust the Nine-Nine to look after Raymond when he’s on the clock. And Kevin can take care of the rest.

“Don’t grab the hoop, Raymond, let it glide up your hand,” says April the instructor, who then turns her back to them to demonstrate the move. “Smooth movements, and then flick your fingers at the top.”

April executes a flawless Pizza Toss and the class applauds. Raymond’s shoulders slump.

“She’s had years of practice,” Kevin reminds him. “You’ve had an afternoon.”

In fact, Raymond has been doing remarkably well in the class. Kevin always knew the man could shake his hips (and other even more provocative body parts) on a dance floor, but he had no idea Raymond had so much finesse, such precision. He’s already mastered the Tornado, and Kevin is still trying to keep his hoop spinning for more than five rotations.

“She makes it look very simple,” Raymond says, eyes on the instructor as he attempts to mirror her movements in slow motion.

“That’s how you know she’s a professional,” Kevin says. He smiles when Raymond quirks an eyebrow at him – the equivalent of a full-fledged eyeroll. “Well, she is getting paid for her hula hooping, isn’t she?”

An hour later, Kevin has managed 10 rotations and given up, and now he’s leaning against the back wall of the studio taking cell phone photos of Raymond, whose movements are hypnotic in his red shorts and white shirt, hips swaying to his own inner tempo.

Raymond has managed a flawless Pizza Toss and is on his way to pulling off the Scorpion, if he can just grab the hoop off his foot on the last twist; he keeps losing his balance and dropping it at the last minute. Then April announces she has one more trick to teach them, the most complicated of the afternoon.

“It’s called the Oopsie Doodle,” she says. A hush falls over the studio.

She moves too fast for Kevin to really follow along – it involves tossing the hoop up over her head then dropping onto her back, lifting her body up on her hands, and catching the hoop around her neck before thrusting a hand up to finish in a Pizza Toss.

It looks impossible. It looks painful. 

“Anyone want to give it a whirl?” she says, and gets a huff of laughs and groans in reply. “Come on, I know we’ve got one or two brave souls in here.”

“I will try,” Raymond says. Kevin is not surprised.

The hoop smacks him in the forehead on his first attempt. On the next try, the hoop sails far behind him. And on the third attempt – Raymond tosses the hoop at exactly the right height and angle, throws himself to the floor and lines his shoulders perfectly for the catch, and as the hoop drops perfectly around his neck he practically roars with pride as he pushes his arm up through the spinning circle.

That’s when his other arm buckles at a very odd angle. Raymond yelps and the rest of his body collapses to the floor. A moment of utter silence fills the room, and then Kevin is rushing to Raymond’s side.

“Raymond! Are you all right?”

Raymond has fallen on his side, and his back and shoulders are shaking. Kevin lays a hand on his arm and slowly rolls him over. His husband is laughing. He’s laughing so hard that tears have sprung in the corners of his eyes and his cheeks are quivering.

“Please,” Raymond says, holding one arm to his chest; the wrist is already swelling. Kevin kneels and sits back on his heels.

“What is it? What do you need?”

“Please tell me you have photos,” Raymond says. “I am going to destroy Peralta.”

Kevin shakes his head fondly as he stands and offers a hand to Raymond. He uploads the photos to the cloud while they’re waiting at urgent care.

End Notes:

Title is from IHOP Parking Lot (Bash Brothers).

I mean, Holt hula hooping.

All of the tricks except for the Oopsie Doodle are REAL hula hoop tricks. I watched them on YouTube and you should too, and then imagine Holt doing them, and then imagine Jake imagining Holt doing them. The B99 writers really are top notch.