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it-happened-one-fic · 2 months

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Dancing With Visions - Do The Hustle - The Hustle - Cyno

Author Notes: The third fic for my "Dancing With Visions" fic series for Genshin Impact! The Hustle is typically a sort of line dance, but for this fic I used a variation that is referred to as a 'Tango Hustle' that largely came about because the film "Saturday Night Fever." This performance is based on the dance from the very same film that is done to the BeeGee's song "More Than a Woman." This fic was also written while I listened to that song. Just like the rest of this series, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ Implied romantic/ fluff/ dance/ sfw

Word Count: 1666

I admit that when I had considered my future, I had never seen myself doing the hustle, of all things, with Cyno, of all people.

But when Cyno had heard about the hustle dance competition and how its reward was a limited-time specialty Invocation TCG card, that was all that had mattered to him. He’d been at my doorstep in moments, a worryingly serious expression on his face as I opened the door.

I’d honestly expected some drastic news regarding someone’s health or something to do Mahamatra business, but instead the first thing he’d said was: “I need you to do the hustle with me.”

He’d said it with such graveness, like it was a life-or-death situation. And I suppose, to him, it practically was one. But he’d caught me so off-guard that I’d hardly known what to do other than invite him inside so that he could explain.

And explain he did, with that same seriousness, before he finished, in a very Cyno like fashion, by saying: “We have to hustle our way to the finish and win.”

I’d shaken my head, at long last learning what it felt like to be in Tighnari’s shoes, “Can’t you just join in a large group and do the line dance? It isn’t like a couple versions of the hustle are especially common.”

He’d merely nodded, peering at me from under his hat, “Exactly. Not many people will do the partner dance version of the hustle. Being unique will increase our chances of winning.”

It had been a good argument, but I’d still found myself shaking my head with a half-fond smile, “You don’t want to have me as a dance partner, Cyno. Someone like Nilou would be better.”

Unmoved by my argument, he’d shaken his head, “No, Nilou is a professional, so dancing with her would be cheating.”

When I’d remained silent, he’d leaned forward, pushing the issue, “If you won’t be my partner, I’ll be like a skeleton at a dance party Y/n.” He’d paused, and I’d felt myself tensing for whatever was going to come next.

And then, with an unmoved expression, he’d delivered the punchline, “I’ll have nobody to dance with.”

That was when I’d relented, if nothing else to stop him from telling anymore jokes, and agreed to dance with him. But now that I was on the light-up floor under the flashing lights that I was pretty sure had been installed especially for this competition, I had some regrets.

Cyno was a surprisingly good dancer, but he fully intended to win this competition and had no doubt put countless hours into learning how to do the hustle. He’d also gotten Nilou to tutor both me and him as well as put together our choreography.

The music choice and surprisingly delicate vein to the dance showed her mark on our performance for a hustle that didn’t look like the speedy dance I’d been expecting, and she’d been a wonderful teacher, but I swallowed thickly as the dancers just before us exited the floor.

They no doubt were here for the monetary reward, which they would split amongst themselves, but that didn’t change the fact that they had been very good.

In fact, for this competition to be happening in a country where dancing had once been practically outlawed, there were a lot of really good dancers who’d apparently been very keen to show off their moves.

And then there were me and Cyno. The determined Mahamatra and his nervous partner.

I felt myself tense as the announcer called our names and the polite applause occurred. Nilou, Collei, and Tighnari had come to support us, as had Kaveh, who’d dragged Alhaitham out of his house, and I could feel all of their eyes on us as we walked hand in hand out onto the floor.

I spun to face Cyno as the dreamy yet undeniably disco song started up and the lights dimmed in an almost condemning fashion.

“Ready?” His voice was surprisingly soft as his gaze held mine, almost like he realized that the nerves had already kicked in for me, but I nodded. At the very least, I couldn’t disappoint him or our friends after we’d put this much effort into this.

It was as if my nod were a cue since we immediately joined hands, with him leaning me into a careful dip where I had one arm carefully outstretched so that it reached past my head as I looked up at him. Trusting him to hold me up as I made myself focus on him rather than letting panic take over.

After I returned to an upright position, our motions began very quickly, with two steps to the side and then two steps back before he spun me out.

Looking towards each other, we returned to one another again, this time side by side, with his arm crossing over my back to reach my hand as my other arm crossed his front to reach his free hand.

We spiraled like that before freeing one another and reentering a closed hold, but the crowd had already gone totally quiet.

What had been a hushed clamor of whispers about how the General Mahamatra himself was in the competition had already withered away to stunned silence as everyone stared at us.

We repeated our interlocked spinning once more before slowly dancing in the middle, focusing on one another rather than the crowd.

At the very least, I didn’t have to be worried about the steps since Nilou had grilled us on memorizing the steps until we could do the entire sequence of motions with absolutely no difficulty at all.

He spun me with my arms reaching back over my head so that he could spin himself before spinning me yet again as soon as he finished in a smooth rolling motion that interconnected seamlessly. Underarm turns were what Nilou had giddily called them when she’d put them into our choreography.

The smooth motions led to a steady dip where Cyno only barely leaned me backwards before quickly pulling me back upright. Sparing me from gazing up into his far too steady gaze yet again.

But Nilou had told us, even during our earliest practices, that our connection and eye contact would be the strongest parts of our performance. Because, according to her, even the best dancers in the world could not fake a connection.

I was relieved that I’d recalled her words at a period when Cyno was carefully leading me across the floor into a side-by-side position where I didn't have to hold eye contact with him. I wasn’t sure I could do so while recalling her words without flushing slightly.

But it was true; being with Cyno was easy to be with and I was always relaxed when I was with him. It was probably the only reason I was able to dance with him, period. And that was even accounting for the strange shyness that came from dancing with him that I never experienced when we were just talking.

With that said, though, I could tell the very instant he looked my way, mere seconds before spinning me so that my back was to him, where we did the same simple step motions that Nilou had taught us. Except this time with Cyno carefully holding me in front of him.

His grip tightened slightly on my hand that he held outstretched before he spun me outwards before we looked towards each other, a smile working its way onto my face as we did the one hand motion that we’d joked was so similar to raising the roof.

The idle smile stayed on my face as we separated and practically strutted our way around the dancefloor before, inevitably, returning to one another.

As soon as our arms wrapped around one another’s torso and we began to spin with our other arms outstretched, applause began. I found myself looking towards him once more, holding eye contact as I smiled slightly.

If nothing else, it sounded like Cyno had a good chance of winning his card. But what I saw in his eyes was not victory. Instead, it was a uniquely soft gaze filled with a quiet sort of awe that had the smile slipping from my face as I inhaled slightly in quiet surprise.

I twisted, though, reentering a more formal dance hold as he walked me across the dance floor, pausing slightly to lean back with me in an almost exaggerated motion.

Our motions slowed though as he led me back to the center of the floor, twirling me twice as if I were a dancer that was just as fluid as Nilou before he stopped me just as I had my back to him.

I inhaled slightly, bracing myself as I leaned back against him, and he lifted me carefully as he spun, which had another round of applause starting up as I exhaled. Relieved that we’d managed what was probably the most difficult move in our choreography while also not knowing what to think.

He sat me down, and I spun out, my hands finding his as I faced him before he twirled me and leaned me down into a dip. Far lower than either of the past ones, as our dance ended and the song faded out so that we were surrounded, for at least a brief moment, by silence.

But then, as he pulled me back up, the applause began with the announcer all but bellowing that he did believe we’d found our winner, even as Cyno’s eyes stayed on mine.

I didn’t know which one of us smiled first, but soon both of us were smiling at each other as people cheered around us.

I may not have ever seen myself doing the hustle with Cyno in my future, but I could certainly say that I was glad it had happened. And I could definitely see it happening again. Perhaps even sooner than one might expect.

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