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#he's fine he's just been sidelined for the first third of the fic for plot reasons 😔
essektheylyss · 2 years
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wip wednesday post, with a bit of the next tiefling fic chapter, because I've been working on some original stuff this week and I'm not sharing that haha:
Fjord picks up a few of the sheets, examining each of them in turn. Essek watches his furrowed brow as he looks from each to each, and leans his chin on a hand. “How is it that you are familiar with runes? You have told me you have no formal education on the subject, yet Jester has said you know them well.”
“Ah,” Fjord says, and places a pair of slim reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, and his brow smoothes a bit as he squints less at the forms. “That is an excellent question.”
“What do you mean, ‘an excellent question’?” Essek asks, bemused, and Fjord’s grin is dangerously crooked.
“Well, I only know what I need to know,” Fjord says. “Much like how Jester has been taught magic by the Traveler.”
“But you do not speak with the Wildmother.”
“I do sometimes speak with the Wildmother.”
“And she gives you rune lessons?”
Fjord laughs brightly. “No, nothing of the sort. Generally she gives me reassurances, but that is rare. I talk to her more than she talks to me directly.”
Essek watches him, amused, as he takes another sip of iced tea. “And yet you have still not answered the question.”
“When you end up unwittingly in a demigod’s employ, you are far more useful to said demigod if you are able to defend yourself, in whatever ways it sees fit to bestow upon you. Those spells entailed a decent amount of runework, and somehow I would simply, ah, come to know their methods of casting. Like I had performed them in a dream, and carried the knowledge over to waking.”
It is both a tremendously cryptic and simultaneously elegant way of explaining. “And to think I endured years of study, only to come to you with questions,” he smiles around the rim of his glass.
“I am also relying on the expertise of entities who have been sealed away from the Material Plane for four hundred years, if not since the Divergence,” Fjord laughs. “My understanding of runes is a bit dated, but it is certainly useful for such things as mysterious rituals in ancient ruins.”
(also if you want to read the first 8 chapters of this, you can do so here!)
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blooddrop-palace · 4 years
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148 Vergil and f!reader
(Thank you!!! And apparently I can’t keep anything within drabble length... haha. I realized halfway through that I really didn’t need to do elaborate setup every time I write these, but too late! I already got carried away! And I probably shouldn’t have written this until i was more awake but... what’s done is done! P.S. I am happy to take more prompts if you see any others on the list that interests you.)
148. Are we lost or do you know where we are?
[Note: idk probably not entirely canon, so insert this where you wish on a timeline. Pretend there’s some “bigger picture” problem going on in the background of this fic that’s keeping our hunters in town for a long time, like how the plot of the anime accumulated into one big thing. Vergil needs a better alias than Gilver for goodness’ sake. I hope my readers like or at least get a laugh out of what I chose for him. (I initially picked it out for a little special something else for another DMC project~) ]
You first saw him at one of your father’s fancy dinner parties. The entire back room of an expensive restaurant was reserved, and this was one of the nights where you had attended. 
This particular dinner party was simply another celebration of another successful quarter gone by for your father’s company. A blessing, seeing as something odd had been afoot in the city recently. Vandalism, reports of indescribable incidents, and even people getting hurt by what they claim were monsters. 
But this was hardly something quite on your mind as you mingled with the guests. 
Today, however, you noticed that there was someone new among the crowd. You would have remembered if you had met someone like him before: 
In terms of both looks and demeanor, he not only stood out but stood on top. Tall, ethereal, like moonlight dressed in a midnight blue suit. He piqued your curiosity both with his sharp demeanor and with his looks. 
Eventually, you had a heart-stopping chance to to meet this stranger, as your father noticed you lingering close, and beckoned you over with a hearty smile: “(Y/N), (Y/N)! Come, meet Caesar Redgrave. Mr. Redgrave, this is my daughter, (Y/N).”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Redgrave.” You didn’t stammer, but your voice came out just a bit meeker than you would have liked. 
“I believe the pleasure is mine, Miss (L/N).” Oh, he didn’t exactly sound the way you expected, but his voice was still lovely in its own way. When he greeted you with an open hand, palm facing up, you recognized that he wasn’t looking for a handshake, but something a little more... old school. 
And you fought a blush as your gingerly placed your hand in his, heart elated that anyone would be so gentlemanly to grace the back of your hand with a light brush of his lips. 
The blood rushing through your ears and the pounding of your heart drowned out whatever else your father was telling you about his new acquaintance. Something about new security detail. 
You didn’t hear much of a word as your head was in cloud nine for the rest of the dinner. 
-------------------
The next time you met Mr. Redgrave, it was less than a week later. You were stopping by your father’s company near his usually lunch hour, one of the uncommon moments where you would spend a brief moment of time in a day with him when your mother was otherwise preoccupied. 
Mr. Redgrave, dressed in grey slacks with a lovely cerulean vest over a white shirt, was just finishing a conversation with the front desk. It was the same front desk you were needing to stop by to let them know that you were there, so that they could page your father for you. (You didn’t want to simply barge in, being the well-mannered daughter that you were.) 
He wasn’t the only one at the front desk today. Beside him was another man, in similar clothing but with a red vest instead. They were undoubtedly related, though clearly with significantly different demeanor. The man in red was more lax, and didn’t bother with a tie as he left two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. 
“Ah, Miss (Y/N) (L/N). I hope you are doing well.” Caesar greeted.
“And the same to you, Mr. Redgrave...” You greeted back in kind, but your sentence tapered off as you glanced over to the other man in red, who was clearly related and probably shared the same last name. 
“You may simply call me Caesar. This is my brother, Anthony.” The introduction Caesar gave you was plain and simple. 
Tony smiled at you: “Just Tony’s fine. Didn’t know a fine young lady like you worked here.”
“Tony, use your head. Miss (L/N) is the company president’s daughter. Don’t let yourself get distracted.”
A small part of your heart sunk, knowing now that Caesar already placed that invisible glass plane of “associate via business” between the two of you. It’s a shame. 
But that didn’t stop you from smiling and telling them: “Just (Y/N) is fine. And no, I don’t work here. So even more reason to drop the formalities.” 
“Why, that’s very lovely, but also a shame that we won’t be seeing you around often.”
“Tony.”
“Right, right. Duty calls.” Tony shrugged and proceeded towards the door. 
Before he left with him, Caesar said to you: “Do stay safe. There have been... incidents of concern, about the city, lately.”
You couldn’t help but hold his concern close to your heart.
-------------------
Despite the odd happenings about the city, you paid them no mind, as the following week, your father hosted another soiree. This time, both Caesar and Tony were present. 
It became clear, early on into the gathering, that Tony was more of the social butterfly, whereas Caesar was more content to watch the crowds from the sideline. 
So, at the right opportunity in the night, you casually made your way towards him, stood by him, and smiled while commenting: “Leaving the tiring socialization to your brother?”
He hummed in acknowledgement. “He’s always so easily distracted.” 
To your slight disappointment, he did not look at you as he spoke. 
You fished for something to say that wasn’t too awkward: “Well, I suppose that keeps most of the more obnoxious attention off of you, doesn’t it?”
“...A silver lining, perhaps.”
For a long while, he remained a silent watcher on the sidelines. 
You were content to stand near him, unbothered. 
Eventually, he asked: “Do you not care much for these gatherings?”
“Not as much as others would think. Only when it suits my fancy.”
There was a long pause, before you heard him say: “Pity. I was informed by the company president that there would be quite a few more of these to attend in the near future.”
There was no further conversation between the two of you that night. But you wondered if that was a subtle sign of hope. 
-------------------
Some of the incidents in the city were coming and going. There’s been a few reported deaths. 
At one point, Caesar reminded you to stay safe when going about the city. This was said to you in the presence of Tony, who gave you some sort of look that you couldn’t place, before he glanced over at his brother with a sly smile. 
The next time you met the curious man in blue outside of a public gathering, you had managed to snag just a little of his time to go to a cafe. It wasn’t quite something you could call a date, but you secretly hoped it was one. 
You were pleasantly surprised, the next day, when you arrived to spend another lunchtime hour with your father, that the front desk manager informed you that a drink was left there for when you arrived. 
It was the same thing-- your favorite-- that you had ordered the day prior at the cafe.
Suddenly, for the next two months, these little incidents and your little cafe meetings became a common occurrence. 
Each time, you were able to further a little bit more conversation with him, and learn about each other more. You hoped that his rare little questions about yourself were something akin to interest.
So, you attended the next few gatherings your father had planned.
Each time, Caesar was there. Sometimes with Tony, sometimes without.
It was reiterated to you that he and Tony were hired as security, out of the concern of what had been happening around the city lately. That was about as much as you were told. You secretly wondered how he’d look when in action.
One time, when you mused out loud on whether or not you’ll attend the next event, he told you: “It would be a bit disheartening for you to miss out on it.”
The next gathering had a social dance involved. You usually avoided those gatherings, but you went with one hope and one hope only. You were not disappointed that day, when he took the time to ask you for a single dance.
You rather hoped this meant you two were quite close, as he hadn’t asked anyone else that night. At the very least, you could call what you had with him to be a friendship of sorts. 
But there was a little something that seemed... off. Something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. A mystery. You just don’t know what exactly it was, nagging the back of your mind.
-------------------
So came the third month, and this party was larger than the previous one. To your (hidden) elation, Caesar was there again. Well dressed as usual, you noticed this time that Tony was not there, even though it would have made sense for him to be present at such a large event.
Eventually, you went outside, far into the gardens, to catch your breath a little. A slight fatigue was getting to you, reminding you that this was why you only enjoyed such “luxuries” sparingly. 
Something nearby shuffled. It startled you. You wondered if perhaps someone at the party was already drunk and bumbling about. Deciding you didn’t want to get caught in a bad mess, you left to make your way back towards the building. From far behind you, you heard something loud: a noise you couldn’t place that sent chills down your spine. 
Should you investigate? Or should you run? 
Suddenly, you were startled when someone was suddenly beside you: “Escaping the crowd for a bit?”
“Oh!”
You didn’t expect him to have followed you, but something in your mind thought that it was very sweet of him. 
“Yes, I... don’t really fancy too many of these gatherings. I get a little too tired from them when they run for so long.” 
“Perhaps I would admit that I’d rather prefer being at home with a book on nights like these. But one has to go where work is...” He mused, and gently guided you down the path you were already taking, back inside but to the side hall of the building where it was away from the bustling main hall.
It was so rare, to have a moment away from crowds and public spaces with other people in it, to just be beside him. So nice, that you shyly admitted: “I understand what you mean. I usually don’t come to the larger parties, but I knew that you would be here tonight...” You blushed. 
You expected him to conversationally sidestep your little admission, but was surprised at how he seemed to smile a little, and told you: “Our usual little outings do always seem so short. It’s a shame we don’t get to see each other more outside of those, or outside of these bothersome gatherings.”
From where the two of you were, in the secluded hallway, where the closed doors led to many of the empty rooms of the building, you could still hear from the main hall, the clinks of glass and the dull hum of people talking through the soft music. 
You weren’t too far from the main event, but you were just far enough, that this would be considered a spot to the two of you, alone. 
You tested the waters a little: “I wouldn’t be lying if I said I wouldn’t mind finding more time to spend with you.” Anticipating his response, hoping that he was interested, you nervously chewed at your lip. 
“Is that so...” 
This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen his gaze grow contemplative. You’d seen it a lot in your conversations, as if he had something to say but decided against it. But this time, he didn’t remain thoughtful for too long: “You would be interested, even after my work here is done?”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, but you were already kind of letting all of your thoughts out: “Of course, Caesar. Not just interested due to curiosity, but it’s been wonderful getting to know you. I really wouldn’t mind finding--”
You were surprised when he placed a finger to your lips to hush you. “No. That’s not... my name is actually--”
It was at that moment, he was interrupted by the tell-tale buzzing of a phone on vibrate. You were a bit disappointed, very curious and somewhat confused about what he was about to say. 
He answered the call, and in the mostly quiet hall, it was hard not to hear what was being said on the other end: “Hey! Vergil, where are you? There’s a small pack of trouble out here, and you’re missing out the fun?”
“By ‘small pack of trouble’, do you mean it’s something you could simply handle without me?”
“I mean, sure, but since when did you simply stand by to let me have all of the spotlight, bro?”
“Dante, answer the question. I’m rather preoccupied within the building right now.”
You suddenly realized something: Caesar and Tony weren’t their actual names. You didn’t know why they would be using different names, but somehow, that made things all the more interesting to you. 
“Oh. What kind of preoccupied are we talking here?”
“Just call me if you’re actually in trouble.” And with that, he hung up.
You felt just a bit breathless at this turn of information. “So...” You started. “Vergil, is it?”
“I hope the use of an alias for all the time we’ve gotten to know each other isn’t... an issue.” He stated. “I am being genuine when I say that... your company was always nice, and I was a little disappointed that I only got to meet you while I’ve been under the cover of work.”
“What is it that you do?” 
“Something related to both security and private investigation.” Vergil responded cryptically. “Though I will admit, I have been a little sidetracked from the job...”
“Is it me? I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t be keeping you from work...” You smoothed out wrinkles in your gown that weren’t actually there, nervously hoping that you didn’t actually have to end this conversation. 
“No, (Y/N). It’s fine. It’s nothing my brother can’t handle. If anything, I hardly think I’ll be required tonight. Besides...” He seemed just a bit sheepish, if that ever were an emotion you could place on him, as he continued softly: “Dante’s often telling me I could use a break and... enjoy something other than research and work...”
So, this was it. An opportunity. The mysteries may have only compounded somewhat, but he was offering you the chance to actually get to know him better. So you smiled and said: “Well, it’s not a bad thing. To go off track a little. Maybe even get a little lost in something different.”
“Well, (Y/N)... tell me, are we lost , or do you know where we are?”
He held out a hand towards you. You could decide where to go from here. 
“Let’s see then, shall we?” Was your smiling response.  
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krystalkoya · 4 years
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Tango | 01
Summary: Fed up hanging by the sidelines when you and your friends go out clubbing, you enroll in a dance class to give you the much needed confidence to join your friends out on the dance floor. What you don’t expect is to go from tripping over your feet to falling head over heels for your dance instructor.
Or, the one where you start learning more about your dance instructor than the art of dance itself.
REPOST: this fic underwent minor changes, nothing plot-wise but some minor edits to grammar and/or characters to make it up to par to my standards 
read on ao3
pairing: hoseok x reader
genre: fluff, slight angst, smut, 
rating: +18
word count: 24k
chapter warnings: 18+ semi-public sex, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs, dirty talk
01| 02
_____
“For the last time Chae, I said no. I’m tired of being the only one sitting by the bar while the rest of you throw ass on the dance floor!“
You immediately cringed as you registered the sheer volume of your voice in the quiet frozen food aisle of the grocery store.
Shooting the glaring mother beside you an apologetic look, you lowered your voice and tried again.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just
 everytime we go out I end up sitting by the bar on my phone or chatting it up with the bartender. It’s not like I don’t enjoy our conversations, some of them are quite insightful, but
 I think it’s time for a change.”
Of all the times you have gone out clubbing with your friends, you were always the ‘responsible one’. You weren’t forced to take on this role. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any fun while you were there. You enjoyed bar hopping and trying all sorts of questionable liquor, but when it came time to actually dance? No thanks. You’d rather just stick to your silly phone games. With a resigned sigh, your best friend of five years said, “___, no one is forcing you to sit by the bar the entire night. Here’s a thought: if you want to have fun why don’t you come dance with us?”
Picking up a tub of ice cream from the shelf, you examined the calorie content while you mulled over your friend’s words. The cold dessert definitely wasn’t allowed on your healthy eating kick, but not caring you tossed the tub into your cart and readjusted the phone in your hands.
“Chaeyoung, you know why.” You heard the frustrated click of her tongue before you even finished your sentence.
“Is this because you said you can’t dance? Please, not this shit again. You don’t have to be an expert! Like, have you actually seen anyone dance at the club?!? Everyone’s drunk and uncoordinated anyway so it doesn’t matter!”
“That’s not the point. Let’s just forget about this okay? I don’t even like the club anyway. All these sweaty strangers rubbing up against each other? I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Nope, you’re not weaseling your way out of this one. Come onnnn, it’s our tradition for god’s sake! If I’m being honest, I don’t even really like the club, but we’re in our twenties and society has convinced us that these are the golden years of our lives and we need to spend it getting drunk, stoned, and dicked down by random guys each week. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“First of all, we barely do any of those things you just mentioned, at least I don’t. I don’t know what you get up to in your free time but leave me out of it. Like I said, my mind’s made up and I’m not going back. End of discussion.”
You hear silence on the other line and for a moment you really think she has given up. But this is your best friend we’re talking about here, you should know better by now.
“Not even if I agree to teach you a few steps?” comes her pleading response. If you were there with her right now, you had no doubt she would be pulling her signature pouty-lipped face that always seemed to make you give in to her demands. Good thing you weren’t there.
“Really? Your going to teach me how to dance? Remember how that turned out the last time? In case you don’t, let me remind you. Bad. Like, very, very bad.”
There was a pause, as if she were jogging her memory of the time she tried to teach you how to ‘walk it out’ at her sister’s wedding years ago. “You’re absolutely right. How did I forget that mess.” You can almost hear her shudder on the other line. “That almost tore our friendship apart. Fine, you win.” Crossing off frozen fruit off from your list, you started walking towards the produce aisle of the grocery store.
“Exactly. Let’s just move on. I’m not going clubbing anymore and that’s that. Plus I wasn’t exactly meeting any guys there anyway.”
Chaeyoung let out a laugh, to which, you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why, but you were offended nonetheless. When she spoke again she revealed to you what she thought was so funny. “___, you do realize you don’t actually date the guys you meet at the club right? Those guys are only good for a fuck. Haven’t you ever heard of a one-night stand? And if they’re really good, then maybe even two fucks.”
“W H O R E.” is your only reply.
“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, it’s the 21st century and I am a sexually liberated woman who is free to do what she pleases with her body, with multiple men if she wants too. Third of all, you really need to get some dick, maybe then you wouldn’t be such an uppity bitch all the time. But guess what? That’s not gonna happen if your ass is glued to a stool instead of some dude’s crotch the entire night.”
“Hey listen, can you hear that? It’s the sound of me, rolling my eyes at you for the thousandth time tonight.”
She paid you no heed, ignoring your comment in favor of continuing on with her tirade.
“Listen, if you really want to learn how to dance I know someplace you could go to get lessons. I met this guy at the club who teaches contemporary dance but the studio offers all sorts of genres. You interested?”
As you checked off the last thing on your grocery list, phone pressed against your ear, you came to a stop and mulled over her words. Dance lessons? It never occurred to you that you could sign up for lessons, you had simply resigned yourself to the sad fact that you could not and would not ever have rhythm. At this point, you were tired and ready to end this conversation but you knew that wouldn’t happen if Chaeyoung didn’t get her way. So with a sigh, you reluctantly agreed.
“Sure, why not.”
“I’m sorry? Something other than immediate rejection? I- wasn’t expecting that. Okay, great, I’ll send you the details before you change your mind. I got to go now babe, my boss has been on my ass about these quarterly reports and I can’t stand to hear him go off on us about ‘the importance of meeting our deadlines’ again. But I’m so proud of you for doing this, we’ll have you throwing that ass back in no time! Love you!“
You could almost hear her grin through the phone but before you could even say goodbye she had already hung up on you. You chuckled, resting your hands on your shopping cart as you stared down at your phone. Chae could be – a lot. But she was your lot to handle. She was a reliable friend and you wouldn’t have made it through these last few years of college without her. However, as you went over the last few minutes of your phone call you couldn’t help but feel somewhat anxious.
Did I really just agree to taking dance lessons of all things?Fuck. If there was anything you could pray for more in that moment it was that you didn’t make an utter fool of yourself when the time came for you to actually dance. But before you could ponder your dilemma any further, several harsh taps on your shoulder stole your attention away from the device in your palms and up at your surroundings. You swiveled your head around looking for the source of the incessant jabs when your eyes landed on silky locks of vibrant red hair.
Oh boy. Oh boy, because the man attached to the mane of crimson hair might possibly be the most attractive person you have had the pleasure of viewing in a while.
He was strikingly handsome, a kind of natural beauty that was seemingly effortless (something you appreciated but had always envied). Bright red hair meshed well with smooth tanned skin, and a lithe form clad in casual jeans and a baggy t-shirt that somehow looked way better on him than it would on you. How was it possible someone looked so good doing a task as mundane as grocery shopping? Realizing that your eyes may have wandered for too long, you drew your eyes away from his form and back to his face.
You instantly regretted it when you saw the look of pure annoyance marring his handsome features.
Oh.
Obviously handsome boy was mad at you. Why, you had no idea. So taking it upon yourself to find out, you cleared your throat, and asked in clearest voice you could muster, "May I help you?”
He kissed his teeth, chuckling lowly, but something about the venom in his voice told you he didn’t find anything funny. “May I help you
 Yes, you can actually. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking the tomatoes.”
Annndd there it is. He just had to ruin it by opening his mouth didn’t he?
You looked around. You had, in fact been blocking anyone’s access to the tomatoes that were sitting in a crate next to the other vegetables in the produce aisle. An honest mistake, so what was his deal?
“Well, I’m sorry but you could’ve said something along the lines of
 oh I don’t know, 'Excuse me,’
? There’s this thing called being polite, you know.”
You may have been struck silent by his looks at first but there was no way you were going to let some entitled prick walk all over you. Running a hand through his hair, he shifted his weight to his other foot and shot you a piercing glare before saying through teeth clenched tight, “Look I don’t have the time for this so could you kindly do me a favor and move to your left a little so I can just pick these up and go?”
Excuse me? Just who did he think he was? You take a moment to breathe because despite your anger, you will not get yourself thrown out of this grocery store for assault. You oblige him, taking a step back as you say, “Fine, there I moved. But do yourself a favor and learn some manners. You’re lucky I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight.”
“Uh-huh.” He muttered, not even sparing a glance at you as he inspected the tomatoes for selection.
Scoffing at his remark, your jaw hung open shocked by the sheer audacity of the man before you. You gave yourself a few more seconds to calm down before you closed your mouth and abruptly spun on your heels. You did not have the time nor the energy to argue with some dick in the grocery store so late at night. Swiveling around, you hurriedly stormed off to checkout, looking forward to going home and getting some sleep before class the next day. .
.
.
Three days later you were stumbling into your apartment, kicking your heels off into some random corner of the room to inevitably trip over later.
You dropped your purse at your feet as you collapsed into the soft cushions of your sofa, mentally and physically exhausted from the stress of the long week you just had. The unnecessary pressure from your boss to meet the deadlines eons away had built up so you were grateful that you had the weekend to recharge. At the moment, all you wanted to do was take a nice hot shower and curl up into your soft cotton sheets. Perhaps you would catch up on a couple episodes of your favorite TV show before bed as well.
Unfortunately, just as you settled into your couch, your phone decided to start buzzing. It took you awhile to locate the device from within the depths of your bag, but once you found it you weren’t surprised to see your best friend’s name displayed across the screen.
“Hello?” you grumbled into the phone.
“Sooo
 how do you like the studio?”
Confusion marring your features, you questioned her. “What studio? What are you talking about?”
“Oh bitch. Bitchhh.Do not tell me you forgot. You do remember that I signed you up for dance lessons for Friday? Please tell me you remembered.”
You didn’t remember. But in your defense, what was she thinking signing you up for a class that met on Fridays of all days?
“____, I swear to god you better get your ass to that studio or I will drag you there myself. I don’t want to deal with you whining to me about your shitty dancing anymore, so move it. You still have half an hour before the class starts.”
“Okay, okay. I’m going, I’m going. Sheesh woman,” you said already making your way to your bedroom.
“Good. Tell me how it goes when your done! And don’t forget to have fun!” her voice almost too saccharinely sweet.
It amazes you how this woman can switch between an angel and the devil’s spawn in a matter of seconds.
As soon as you said your goodbyes you rummaged through your drawers for some comfortable your workout clothes. Stopping by the fridge for a water bottle, you headed toward your car, mentally preparing yourself for an hour of hell.
If you were going to suffer, might as well be hydrated.
And hell it was.
Because although you managed to make it to the class with 10 minutes to spare, you immediately regretted coming when your instructor for the evening walked in. That same prick from the grocery store entered the classroom, a bright smile on his face as he welcomed his students. You would of thought this man was a completely different person if it weren’t for the bright red hair that sat atop his head.
You tried everything in your power to avoid eye contact but it was too late. It was almost as if time has slowed down as you saw the expression on his face morph into shock the moment you two locked eyes. The brief moment between you two passed almost as fast as it came, though because in the next instant he was plastering a wide smile back on his face and moving to the front of the room to address the class.
You don’t remember much of his greeting. You managed to pick up that his name was Jung Hoseok. And he said something along the lines of “dancing is a form of self-expression” and “don’t be afraid if you can’t get the moves right away
 have fun
“ But for the most part you had zoned out, contemplating the catastrophe that was your life. Fuck me.
It was just your luck that you managed to get him as your dance instructor. If it weren’t for the fact that you had already paid you would have left already.
Unfortunately, you were just going to have to try avoiding the man for the next hour or so. After that you were never stepping foot in this studio ever again.
Avoiding Hoseok wasn’t all that hard considering the fact that once he started, his sole attention was dedicated to concentrating on teaching the choreography. That and you had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying just as hard to avoid all eye contact with you as you were with him.
While the music played he stood at the front of the class, teaching you all a simple choreography that went along with a high-tempo hip hop beat.
Although you took a place at the back of the class, it didn’t completely eliminate your anxiety of dancing in front of complete strangers. It was irrational to think that anyone would pay you any attention when everyone’s focus was likely to be on trying to get their own moves right. The class was diverse, with people younger, older and around your age there but it seemed as if everyone else was doing so much better than you as you struggled to keep up with the steps.
It was just your luck (which was minimal these days) that at that moment, Hoseok called for a break. Thank god.
You propped your hands up on your hips, closing your eyes and rolling your head back to stretch out the muscles in your neck. Unfortunately, your moment of relaxation was interrupted because when you looked back up you were shocked to see Hoseok walking
 right towards you? That couldn’t be right.
Despite ignoring your presence for the whole first half of the class, he seemed to be charging straight towards you. But just before he could reach you, a few members of the class ahead of you had intercepted him in his travels. Phew.
Dodged a bullet there. You’re not sure what he was going to say to you, but you’re completely sure you didn’t want to hear it. Taking that time to escape, you took a seat near the back of the room and pulled out your phone to text Chaeyoung.
You: It was a big mistake coming here. [7:47]
Chae: Why, What’s wrong? [7:48]
You: Remember that dick I told you about?
You: The one from the grocery store? [7:48]
Chae: Yeah
 [7:50]
Chae: Oh no, don’t tell me he’s there??
You: Oh he’s here alright.
You: He’s the goddamn dance teacher for christ’s sake. I mean, what are the odds, right?!? [7:50]
You chanced a small glance over your shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief when you saw Hoseok was still engaged in small talk with some chatty women. And judging by the way their hands lingered on his arm and the exaggerated laughs in response to his jokes, it was fair to say they weren’t just interested in the art of dance, but instead the art of the dance teacher. Don’t be fooled ladies, bad things sometimes come in good packages. You learned that the hard way.
Looking back at your phone you read the recent message from Chaeyoung.
Chae: Wow, what a coincidence
Chae: But he can’t be that bad right? [7:53]
You: Not that bad? Were you listening when I told you the story the other day? [7:53]
Chae: I was but i really think ur just being overdramatic, like always. I mean, the guy just wanted his radishes and u were in the way [7:56]
You: Tomatoes, Chae. He wanted tomatoes.
You: And 'like always’..?!? Are you my friend or his??! [7:57]
Chae: Whatever. Istg you’re so stubborn sometimes
Chae: Just give him a chance. He must be good at his job and you need all the help you can get. ;) [7:58]
You leave her on read as Hoseok calls the class back to his attention. Overdramatic my ass, you think as you get back in line. Only half an hour more of this and then I’m through. That’s it. They couldn’t convince you to come back here even if they paid you.
By some miracle you manage to make it through the rest of the class.
Luckily Hoseok had chosen songs with slower rhythms as opposed to the upbeat choreography he was teaching in the beginning half of class.
Hoseok thanked the participants for attending, and if you weren’t in such a rush to get out of there you would have appreciated his sincere closing remarks. Alas, that wasn’t the case and no sooner than Hoseok stopped talking were you sprinting to the back wall to gather your belongings.
Gathering up your water bottle, your phone and purse, not even bothering to shove the items into your bag, you turned on your heel and made a mad dash for the exit, hoping to avoid Hoseok’s gaze as you escaped with the crowd. But fate seemed to have a different plan for you, as it always did, because no sooner had you turned around were you barreling straight into a firm chest. One glance up led you to determine that it was Hoseok’s chest to be exact.
Luck really said fuck you and took her leave didn’t she.
Taking a step back you steeled yourself and channeled all the energy you had left into a glare you hoped conveyed that you really weren’t in the mood for his bullshit today.
"Yes?” You glowered up at him.
He chuckled softly. Chuckled. You really didn’t find anything funny about this situation. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Pretty fucking awkward to say the least.
“This some type of revenge scheme of yours? Watching my every move so you can best plot when to strike? I didn’t realize I pissed off a stalker the other night. I should really be careful about who I make angry in the future.” He says, smirk apparent in his tone.
“No, actually. Believe it or not, I’ve got better things to do than go around stalking assholes like you.”
“And that includes taking my dance classes
?”
This cocky bastard. Scoffing, you square your shoulders and push past him heading right for the exit.
Unfortunately for you, your second attempt at escape was foiled yet again by Hoseok, a hand on your wrist preventing you from leaving.
"Hey
 wait, I was just joking. Listen, I’m sorry if I was rude the other night. I think it’s great that your taking my class though. Did you have fun?”
You snort, shucking his hand off your wrist and saying, “You’re only saying that because I’m paying you. Can’t be mean to paying customers, now can we?”
“That’s part of it, yeah,” He says, the corner of his mouth tilting up at the side but at the roll of your eyes he backtracks.
“Kidding! Kidding.” He panics, hands up to placate you. “But seriously, I’m sorry for the way I acted the other night. It wasn’t me. I was going through some shit and I
 look it doesn’t matter. I had no right to be rude to you over some fucking vegetables. So will you please accept my apology so we can start fresh?”
At this point you were tired, sweaty and all you wanted to do was go home, take a nice hot shower and curl up in your soft linen sheets. Plus, his apology seemed genuine. And you didn’t want to admit it but perhaps Chaeyoung was right when she said you could be a tad over-dramatic at times.
So, with a huff of your breath, you went the drama free route for once and accepted his apology.
“Okay. But consider this your last chance so don’t fuck it up.”
“Trust me, I won’t. You won’t ever see me acting like that again. I had a bad day and I took it out on you which was in no way acceptable. How about we turn over a new leaf? Sound good?” At your nod of affirmation, he presses on, “So how did you like the class?”
You took a moment before you answered. Should you tell him the truth? That you absolutely hated it? That you had already decided you were not coming back? Or should you lie and say you loved it, only for him to be surprised when you didn’t show up the next week, or the following week, or the week after that

“It was good. You’re a great teacher. It’s just
 I don’t know. Dancing just isn’t for me.” You decided to go with the truth but you wanted to make sure he knew it had nothing to do with his teaching.
“Isn’t that why you took this class? To get better?” he asked with a confused crinkle of his brow and a tilt to his head.
He had a good point. “Yeah, but
 I don’t know. I guess it’s just my own insecurities holding me back. I feel like a fool in a room full of swans.”
“Swans?” He snorts. “Were you in the same room as me for this last hour? The woman in the front row would’ve taken my eye out at one point if I hadn’t dodged her leg in time. Trust me, you’re all equally terrible.”
By this point you two are the only ones in the room but surprisingly it’s not as uncomfortable as you’d imagine it to be.
You’re not sure how to respond so you say dumbly,
“Uh
thanks??”
“You’re very welcome.” He says with a smile and a pat to your shoulder.
You shake your head in disbelief of the man. “You’re a dick, you know that?”
He scoffs, placing his hand over his heart in mock outrage. “Ouch, you wound me. Come on, you don’t really think so low of me do you?”
“I’ll tell you what, considering when I first met you, no. You were a huge fucking dick then, but now??” You place a finger on your chin as if considering his rank to you now.
“You’ve been demoted to just an average dick. Four or five inches maybe?” You tease.
“I don’t know whether I should be offended or not but I’m gonna choose not for fear of starting another argument. But listen,” he says tone turning serious, “you weren’t that bad from what I could see of you. You weren’t good, but certainly not terrible. You managed to keep up with a lot of the steps.”
“How would you know? You didn’t even look in my direction the whole hour!”
“Not true. I did glance at you a couple times. But you had a scowl on your face the entire time so I knew you were still pissed at me from that other night. Your energy
 it was killing my vibe.”
“And you wonder why I still consider you slightly dick-ish.”
A roll of his eyes was his only response, choosing instead to elaborate on his earlier comment. “Look, if you’re really that uncomfortable being in a group setting you can always sign up for private lessons.”
“Private lessons? With you?” “Yes, with me.” He said with yet another eye roll, but he was smiling so you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed.
Private lessons did sound nice. Dancing in front of one stranger was always better than dancing in front of a whole group of strangers. But that would mean you would be alone, with Hoseok. Although you hated to admit it, dude was attractive and he turned out to have a better personality than you’d initially thought. Yeah, the coward in you said you were going to have to pass on this.
“It’s gonna be a no for me, thanks for the offer, but I’m good, really.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise but all he says is “Okay, that’s fine. Just do what works for you.”
“Thanks, I will,” you say tersely, hiking your bag up on your shoulder. The comfortable mood from earlier seems to have dissipated just as soon as it settled, and you take that as your cue to leave.
“I’m gonna head out now.”
“Right, it is getting late.” He says with a polite wave.
But he seems to have forgotten something because when you turn the knob on the door you hear a sudden “Oh!” from behind you. You turn to look at him.
“I didn’t get your name. I introduced myself at the start of class but I’ll do it again in case you were too busy plotting my death to notice. I’m Hoseok.” He extends his hand for a shake, expression expectant, probably waiting on you to introduce yourself as well.
You did remember his introduction at the beginning of class and you thought it was only fair that you tell him your name given the fact that you no longer wanted him to burn in the pits of hellyou guys were on good terms now.
“___. And sorry, I didn’t realize my glare was that obvious. I’ll try to be less subtle next time.”
“___. Nice to meet you under better circumstances. Hopefully there won’t be a next time, for my sake at least. So, I’ll see you next Friday then?”
“Yeah
 see you.” It was a lie. You knew damn well that this would be the last time you stepped foot in this studio. Screw Chaeyoung and the hell you would receive from her for quitting.
With a final goodbye he sent you off with a blinding smile and a wave of his hand.
Turning swiftly on your heel, you threw him one last tight smile over your shoulder before you exited the studio, grateful that this night was finally over. .
.
.
“I’m sorry, come again?”
“Jesus woman, lower your voice! I have neighbors!” Typical. And she calls you overdramatic.
“Fuck the neighbors. Let me get this straight.” She says. "Hot guy wants to spend time with you and you turn him down because of
 what exactly?“
"First of all, he doesn’t want to spend time with me. I’d be paying him for private lessons. That’s all.” you explain.
“Potato, potahtoe. Why would you pass up the opportunity to get some one-on-one lessons from a hot instructor?”
You currently sat across from Chaeyoung, the two of you curled up on your couch together. You were supposed to be on a bad 90s movie marathon until the topic of your first (and last) dance class came up.
“Because,” you began, “Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s not a grade-A douchebag.”
The look she sent you for that last comment immediately translated to 'cut the bullshit’. She knew you were lying. Curse you for being so accustomed to telling her everything. You told her all the details from the fated night at dance class over the phone the next day, but in hindsight you could have saved the part where Hoseok turned out to be somewhat of a decent guy to yourself.
“Hon, you know you need these lessons. And if you’re too afraid to dance in front of a group why not just get the private lessons? Plus, you need to get out of the house more. You’re always either studying or at work these days. A hobby will hopefully distract you and get rid of some of that stress. And you know what else gets rid of stress? Fu-”
“Quiet woman! I need to think.”
Despite that last comment, she was right. Chaeyoung being right was becoming a recurring theme in your life and you didn’t like it. But it was a rare occasion that you had any time for yourself, let alone anyone else these days. Although it was your last semester your professors had been unrelenting, you seemed to be getting double the work as in previous years. In addition, your nearly inflexible work schedule and crappy boss hadn’t made things any better.
Shoulder slumped, you admitted defeat.
Shock replaced her features. “I’m sorry what?”
“I said you’re right okay? God, why is it so hard to admit that to you?”
Chae let out an excited giggle, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry it’s just, that’s the second time this week that you didn’t argue back with me. Allow me to enjoy this will you? Anyways, does this mean you’ll suck it up and go back?”
You slowly nodded your head, muttering a 'yes’ under your breath. You figured the lessons would allow you to learn how to do something you’ve always wanted to do while providing you with a good way to relieve all of your pent up stress.
She leaned forward to give you a brief hug before leaning back to say, “Hey, I’m proud of you. We’ll sign you up for the private lessons later. Let’s move onto more important topics. So what does this guy look like anyways? Let’s see if he’s as attractive as you say he is.”
“It’s not like I have a picture of him saved anywhere. I didn’t get his number or his social media.”
Sighing, she whips out her phone, not even looking at you when she asks, “What’s his name?”
“Huh? Jung Hoseok, but I don’t see how that will help. It’s not like you can–”
“Found him!” And she’s moving closer to you to show you her phone.
“You said he has red hair right? This him?”
You take a look at her phone, the Instagram page of the one and only Jung Hoseok displayed on the screen.
His instagram is filled with pictures and videos of him at the studio leading dance practices or performing some kind of choreography. Then there are the typical pictures you would expect of any instagram user. Selfies of him out with friends, food, the scenery. He must have died his hair regularly- in some pictures he had the red hair he had currently, in others it was brown, and even blonde at one point.
“Damn. This is him? Hold on.. maybe I should sign up for lessons too.”
“Please,” you scoff and hit her arm. “I’m concerned enough about your vagina already. Please don’t add more guys to the mix, especially not my dance teacher.”
“Relax I was joking. Mostly. And don’t be concerned about me, my vagina’s doing just fine. You should be concerned about your own dried up puss. How long has it been since she’s gotten a good plowing?”
You shake your head at her, redirecting your attention to the TV.
“I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”
Chae flings her arms around you. “Because you love me and no matter what you say, I’m still your favorite person in the world.”
You smile, humming in acknowledgement. “I guess,” you say, defeated. “Now shut up and let me watch my bad movies in peace.” .
.
.
The following week you find yourself back in the same dance studio.
Before she left your house that night, Chaeyoung made sure that she witnessed you make an appointment for the next available private lesson with Hoseok. This is how you wound up here at the dance studio at 7pm on a Tuesday night.
You take a seat on the floor of your designated room for the night, as you still have about ten minutes until your lesson starts.
Hoseok isn’t here yet and you pray to god he doesn’t show up so you can just go home.
Pulling out your phone, you open up your music playlist. After the first group dance class, you had went home and downloaded the songs Hoseok had used. You figured that even if you weren’t going back to the class, at least you got a few new songs to listen to. Hoseok actually had a pretty good taste in music, which you guess wasn’t surprising considering his job as a dance instructor.
You lazily scrolled through your playlist, stopping when you came across one of the songs you recently added. It was one of the slower-tempo songs that Hoseok had used in his last class. You could still remember some of the choreography clearly, simply because of how badly you butchered the steps. Feeling brave, with no audience to witness your wild flailing limbs and uncoordinated movements, you turned up the volume on your phone and stood up from your position on the floor.
Doing your best to execute the choreography that Hoseok had taught you all from your very first class, you went into the first movement.
Just then the door to the studio burst open and you nearly jumped out of your skin from how hard it had startled you. Placing a hand on your chest as if it would somehow calm the rapid beating of your heart, you whirled around facing the source of the loud intrusion.
It was Hoseok, standing in the doorway with his duffel bag on his shoulder and a slight smirk making its way onto his face. You rushed over to your phone on the floor, picking it up and turning off the music that was still blaring in the otherwise quiet room. However, your frantic actions must have prompted Hoseok to speak.
“Got started without me, did you? It’s okay, don’t stop on my account. Just act like I’m not even here.”
As you disconnected your phone from the speaker, you shot him a quick glare before locking your phone and placing it on top of your bag by the wall of the studio.
“Let’s just get this hour over with. And please, try to keep your smart comments to yourself.”
“And the ice queen returns. What happened to our heart to heart the other night? Did you forget already?,” he said with a grin so wide you wanted to box it right off his face.
"No it’s just that I’m only allowed to be nice for very brief moments in time or else I’ll spontaneously combust. So are you just gonna stand there and look dumb or are you gonna teach me something? I’m not paying you for nothing.”
“Right you are. Lemme just get set up and we can begin, mmkay?”
Once he sets his duffle bag down and connects his phone to the speakers in the room he turns to you.
“Why don’t we start with the same song you were just practicing to.” He says scrolling through the phone in his hand.
He presses play and the song starts playing through the speakers like it was a moment ago. He stares at you expectantly.
“What?”
“Well, show me what you were doing before I came in.” You don’t know what you were expecting because in all honesty this was what a one on one dance lesson entailed. It was inevitable that you would actually have to dance in front of him in order for him to help you. But still, you were nothing if not stubborn.
“Can’t you just teach me some steps and I’ll try to keep up? Like in your group sessions?”
“___, the benefit of having private lessons is that I can focus on you. I need to get a baseline to see where you are before I give you anything too hard.”
You’re silent for a moment. It was better to rip off this band-aid sooner rather than later. Embarrass yourself in front of him now and get rid of this awkwardness that still remained between you two. Making up your mind, you tell him to restart the song.
You get in the starting position while Hoseok moves back in the room to give you more space. As the music starts again you repeat the steps you went through earlier, trying your hardest not to mess up.
The whole time you run through the choreography you feel completely uncomfortable, feeling Hoseok’s stare on your form from behind. About a minute in, just when you start to forget the next couple steps, he cuts the music.
You turn around to see him setting his phone down once again. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just leisurely takes a few sips of his water before turning to you. You have half a mind he’s doing this on purpose just to see you squirm.
“Well, not gonna lie that was bad.”
“I’m leaving.” you say already moving towards the door.
“Wait, wait let me finish. It was bad, yes, but it wasn’t terrible.”
“Gee, thanks.” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“I’m being serious. Trust me I’ve seen far, far worse. You have a general sense of rhythm but you don’t always know where to direct it at times. Your movements aren’t fluid. Too jerky in some areas, smooth in others. You need to loosen up. You’re too stiff. Just relax and feel the music.” He presses play again and this time demonstrates the first couple steps before motioning for you to try again.
You are reluctant to do so but comply anyway because it is what Chaeyoung would want. She’s not here right now, but you have no doubt she’ll know you didn’t give it your all the next time you see her.
And you fear the consequences of that interaction more than your current predicament. Note to self: rethink this entire friendship dynamic asap. ___
The rest of the lesson goes by smoothly, surprisingly. Hoseok demonstrates the choreography while you try to keep up, him stopping you every now and then to correct you.
Halfway through the lesson, when Hoseok called for a water break, the door to your studio swings open. A lithe brunette man appears in the doorway, only to double-take when he sees you and Hoseok inside, before he starts apologizing profusely.
“Ah, sorry hyung, I thought I was in here today.”
“No worries Jimin. I think you’re in room 211 today,” Hoseok replies, before glancing at you. “Jimin, this is ___, ___ , Jimin. He’s the one of the contemporary dancers here.” he says, gesturing between the two of you.
Jimin. Why did that name sound familiar? Was this the guy Chae was talking about? The one she met at the club?
“Nice to meet you, Jimin,” you say kindly.
“It was a pleasure meeting you too ___.” And you don’t know if it was just you but you swear there was a glint to his eyes and a slight curl of his lip that made this baby-faced man seem so much more tantalizing. But before you could ponder this further, Jimin was speaking again.
“Unfortunately I have to get going now or I’m going to be late for an appointment. The mom’s a nightmare — wants her kid to be the next Maddie Ziegler. Tough luck cause little Sarah’s got two left feet. Don’t tell her mom though, she’s loaded and I need the money. Anyways, I gotta go. Hope to see you around sometime ___! Later Hoseok!” He calls with a wave, already out the door in a matter of seconds.
Hoseok chuckles softly at that, shaking his head slightly.
“He seems nice,” you say. “Why couldn’t I have gotten him instead of you as a teacher?”
Hoseok pins you with a look. “Because, contrary to popular belief, I don’t think contemporary dance would do you much good in a club. Unless it’s an underground jazz club. Maybe not even then,” he shrugs.
Why didn’t you just lie when he asked you why you were taking lessons earlier? It was already embarrassing enough being here dancing in front of him, and now he knows you’re here just because you wanna know how to throw it back in the club.
Apparently, your silence in response to his comment was his cue to keep talking.
“But anyways, Jimin may look like an angel but he’s everything but. You’re better off with me.”
“Oh, like you’re some saint.”
“As holy as Lucifer,” he smiles.
“The fallen an-”
“Less talking, more dancing. Come on we still have like 15 more minutes.” he says, cutting you off by turning the music back on.
 Needless to say, the dance lesson wasn’t as bad as you had expected it to be. A couple days later you and Chaeyoung finally have a chance to catch up and you tell her all about your first lesson. You mention the brunette haired boy, Jimin you think his name was, and she tells you that that was in fact the guy she met at the club. Apparently, your first impression of the man was correct. Chae tells you he’s a huge charmer, can flirt the pants off any woman, or man, for that matter. You think it’s his eyes, they draw you in like a predator hunting its next prey.
She encourages you to go back for more lessons, even if its just to get a chance to “sample the merchandise” as she put it.
You do find yourself going back the next time and the week after that. Not to “sample the merchandise” or whatever the fuck, but because of your dedication to getting better. Soon enough you have been attending the lessons for a little over a month. You find that each time you go the embarrassment of having to dance in front of Hoseok dissipates little by little.
You even discover that Hoseok is not that bad to be around. He’s funny and despite your fears of him laughing in your face when you mess up he’s surprisingly polite. He doesn’t scoff or sneer when you miss a step, instead he’s attentive, sweet even, as he helps you correct your form.
You start to notice a difference in yourself as well. Even if only by a fraction. You aren’t a professional-level dancer yet (nor do you think you’ll ever get to that level, but that’s okay) but you’ve come a long way from where you started. It makes you feel proud that you are finally doing something for yourself. Something you always wanted to do but never had the chance to.
One night however, Hoseok decides to change things up from your usual way of doing things.
You enter the studio, the first one there as usual, and you put down your things before you start stretching to get your body warmed up for vigorous exercise. It had been something Hoseok suggested you do when you had started complaining about having cramps after sessions.
It is when you are bending over, hands touching your toes to stretch your hamstrings that you hear the door swing open. At the low whistle that comes from behind you, you jerk upright and turn around, sending a glare to the man standing in the doorway.
“Perv,” you say through your teeth.
Hoseok sighs, defeated, “Guilty as charged, but can you blame me? If you don’t want to give me a show, face away from the door next time, yeah?”
You cross your arms over your chest and say, “I’m not paying you to ogle my ass. We’ve only got an hour and you’ve already wasted 5 minutes by showing up late.”
“It always comes back to money with you doesn’t it? I’m hurt.” You roll your eyes instead of responding and he uses this time to set his duffel bag down next to yours at the back of the room.
He squats down to fish his phone and aux cord out of his bag while he speaks.
“I want to try something different today.”
He’s not looking at you so he misses the suspicious look you send his way. “Different
how?”
“You said you’re here because you want to learn how to dance so you can go to the club right?”
“Yeah
?” you say, still not getting his point.
“Well everything I’ve been teaching you so far is way too advanced for a club. In all honesty, you don’t really need these lessons if that’s the reason you’re here, but you’re paying me so who am I to complain?”
You give him a pointed glare. “Your point, Hoseok. Get to it.”
“Right, all I’m saying is my lessons are useless in that kind of setting. So, I’m gonna teach you something else. Something useful.”
“Yeah? Well, something tells me I’m not gonna like this.”
Finally locating his phone and aux cord from within the depths of his bag, he fiddles with the speakers as he says,
“Oh trust me, you won’t.”
Suddenly a song you don’t recognize is playing through the speakers. It’s slow, much slower than the other songs you’ve practiced to. The rhythm is 
 sensual.
Too sensual.
Hoseok sets his phone down on his duffel bag in the corner of the room. You see him glance at you before he picks up the chair by the wall and walks toward you with it.
He sets the chair down behind you before coming back around to face you again. “You’re main problem is you’re lacking confidence. You need to have confidence to dance in the club – to dance period. To not care what anyone thinks about you because in that moment you’re free. It’s just you and the music.”
He takes in your expression. You’re still looking at him with suspicion, arms crossed over your chest and expression guarded.
“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve improved a hell of a lot these past few sessions, but you’re still not completely comfortable, I can tell. And your dancing is suffering from it.”
Clearing your throat, you ask defensively, “Okay, and?? What does this have to do with our lessons?”
“Well I can’t force you to gain confidence in your dancing but I can certainly help you try. Just try and follow my lead, okay?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, instead he pulls the chair up further and tells you to sit in it.
“What, why?!?” You protest. Did he really expect you to just go along with whatever he says without telling you what his plans were? He must not know who he’s dealing with.
Rolling his eyes, he repeats himself, “Just sit in it. We don’t have time for this.”
“Not until you tell me why I have to sit in the chair.” You say not backing of down.
He tilts his head back with a groan, looking thoroughly fed up with you. “God you’re so stubborn. Everything just has to be difficult with you doesn’t it?” He says more to himself than to you.
At this point the all too-sensual-fucking music still plays from the speakers and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you fearful of what was to come.
Hoseok finally peels his head back down from the ceiling to look at you and when he does his stare is intense.
You go to say something else but when he turns his gaze towards you it makes you hesitate.
You gulp.
“Why are you so stubborn, hmm?” And he takes a step closer to you.
“Do you like pissing me off? Is this fun for you, is that it?” Another step forward from him has you stepping back, suddenly not feeling as bold as you had been just moments ago.
“Hoseok, what are you-”
“Ahh, ahh, ahh
” he shushes you with a finger to your lips. “Don’t speak. You had your chance. It’s my turn now.” 
You find yourself leaning as far back as possible to put some distance between the two of you, but when you step back again, your leg hits the chair, causing you to stumble.
A hand snakes around your waist, preventing you from a painful collision with the chair and the floor of his studio. A look of shock lights up your face as you look up at Hoseok, your voice truly stolen from you now.
“Careful, we don’t want you to get hurt, now do we? Why don’t you take a seat, hmm? Relax those legs a bit, you’ll need them later.”
This time Hoseok leaves you no room for debate as he eases you down into the chair himself. The music is still playing, and your nerves are higher than they ever have been during a lesson. This was Hoseok’s plan to get you to feel confident? If the sweat forming under your pits was any indication, he was doing a terrible job.
Hoseok stands before you, looking down at you in your seat.
“You need to loosen up. Dancing is all about feeling music. Letting the rhythm flow through your body as you feel it.”
He suddenly stands back a bit, swaying his hips to the beat of the music as it plays.
“Don’t think, just do what feels right.” At that he closes his eyes, head tilting back towards the ceiling once again, but he keeps the swaying to the music.
While his eyes are closed, you take the opportunity to get a good look at him. He really is in his element when he dances. There’s something about him that just looks so at peace – like he’s in his own little world that consists of just him, the music, and the sway of his body.
You drink in the movement of his hips all the way up to his exposed neck and that sharp jawline you finally had the chance to admire with his eyes closed. Instantly, you regret your ogling because it does nothing to quell the rising of your body temperature, or the heat between your thighs.
Things only get worse when you notice that he is getting closer to you. Stepping in time to the music, Hoseok is slowly inching his way towards you. He’s looking directly at you now, can see you squirming in your seat in an effort to put as much distance between you two as possible, and the corner of his mouth lifts up in a smirk. Oh he’s enjoying this, the bastard, a little too much if you’re being honest.
Suddenly, as the beat drops in the song, he’s propelling himself forward, effectively closing the last few inches of space between you two.
He’s leaning forward, devilish smirk on his face and a hand on the back of your chair, you’re face almost eye level with his chest as you look up at him pathetically.
“This is the type of dancing you’d most likely see in a club. Free, wild
 seductive.”
By now the music has returned to it’s melodic rhythm and so does Hoseok. He begins swaying to the beat, rolling his body into yours in a way that can only resemble a lap dance to any onlookers.
One hand on the back of your chair, the other just lightly grazing the top of your knee as he moves, the smirk never leaving his face as he says, “Watch me. See how fluid I am with my movements? How I hear the music and let the notes flow through my body?”
He’s backing away from you now, only to circle your chair, not failing to drag his fingertips across your shoulders until he comes back around to face you again. He traces his arms down your forearms only to grab your hands and hold them in front of him while you continue to stare pathetically up at him.
“Think you can do that for me?” he asks, hopeful eyes shining back at you.
What is he talking about? No you can’t do that, that’s the whole reason you’re here in the first place. This whole situation is bizarre and you snap out of you’re stupor to remind him that he’s supposed to be teaching you to dance, not
 whatever this is.
“Hoseok,” you say, “I’m not paying you to give me a lap dance.”
“Oh, I know,” he nods, “You’re gonna give me one.”
Before you even have a chance to ask him what in the hell he’s talking about he’s hiking you up onto your feet and plopping himself down into the chair instead.
He looks smug as he sits, legs spread wide in that obnoxious way that guys do and hands in his lap. He stares up at you blankly.
“Well
” he pats his thighs, “Get to it then.”
You stare at him incredulously for a moment before you burst into laughter. The unhinged notes of your laugh almost sound out of place amidst the music that still plays in the background. 
“You’re kidding right? You’ve got to be kidding.”
When his facial expression remains serious you realize that he’s not kidding. You still. “You’re not kidding.” You cross your arms over your chest, turning towards the door. “Okay I’m actually leaving...,” you say for the second time that night.
Before you can get too far, however, arms snake around your waist and you find yourself rooted to the spot.
“You wanted my help, well this is what my help looks like. Ultimately, it’s your own choice, you don’t have to do this but trust me, this lesson is just as beneficial to you as any other, maybe even more.”
You hang your head down, sighing in defeat but not ready to give up just yet. “How do I know you’re not just doing this for your own perverted gain?”
He lifts his hands up by his sides and says, “You have my word. This is purely for your own benefit and not for my own personal gain at all. Scout’s honor.”
You reluctantly relent, softening your demeanor a little by unfolding you’re crossed arms from your chest.
Hoseok calms at that, seeing that you are staying.
“Plus,” he adds, “No offense, but if I wanted a good lap dance I’d just go to the strip club.”
You turn to leave again but Hoseok is grabbing your wrist preventing you from straying far yet again. He’s doing that a lot tonight. Being overly touchy-feely. You can’t say you’re complaining. 
“Kidding, kidding. Geez, your finicky. Come on, at least just try for me.”
You turn around in his arms and sigh. “Alright
 well, what do you want me to do?”
“Just feel the music and do whatever feels right.”
Confidence. Just have confidence, you say to yourself. You put your hands on the back of his chair, as he had done earlier but after that you freeze. You don’t know what to do. It seems like you can’t even hear the music at all with how hard you’re heart is pounding in your ears.
Hoseok must have noticed your hesitance as he puts his hands on your wrists which causes you to look at him.
“Hey, just breathe. It’s just me, you and the music.”
He places your hands on his shoulders and his arms at your sides pull your hips closer to him. As the music plays, his arms around your waist guide you into a soft sway along to the beat.
“See? Not so bad, is it?”
You shake your head at him, still a little timid but starting to move your hips along to the music on your own.
Feeling more emboldened as time passes, you pull back from him a little, and let the music guide your movements. Your hands drop to your sides, slowly dragging them up your body as you continue your hypnotic sway from side to side. You try to channel all of the grace and sex appeal of your favorite female artists into your movements, imagining a movement and forcing your body to execute it exactly.
At first you don’t pay attention to Hoseok, your eyes opting to drift closed so you can focus on hearing the music and translating it into dancing. But at the sound of someone clearing their throat your head snaps back up to stare at the man sitting directly before you.
Big mistake. His eyes are focused on you, staring intently at you and every move you make. It causes you to falter a bit in your movements, but you quickly recover, not wanting him to notice how much he affects you. He looks
 uncomfortable? Weird because you’ve never seen him look like that before, ever. He’s always the picture of calm, cool and collected. But now
 now his eyes are blown out, pupils wide and
you could swear you saw his eyes flicker over your frame once before he wets his lips and shifts in his seat.
Mostly because you want to get away from his heated gaze but partly because you feel strangely emboldened by his reaction you begin to tease him more, starting a slow walk around the chair like he had done to you earlier. Unfortunately for you, he can still see you in the mirrored wall of the studio and he is looking straight at you, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. You meet his eyes with a stare of your own, the room silent except for the music that plays softly in the background.
It’s almost as if you are in some sort of competition. As if he’s testing you to see whether you really have the guts to do what he asked of you. And if there was one thing about you, it was the fact that you really, really liked to prove people wrong.
Biting your lip, you tentatively place your hands on the back of his chair, the tips of your fingers lightly touching the top of his shoulders.
To your surprise, he captures your fingers in his own hands, dragging your hands down to rest properly around his neck. At this point, you are just slightly swaying in time to the beat of the music, nerves shooting through your body at a rapid pace. Your eyes fall close, head tilted down at your toes in favor of looking at him.
However, your head snaps back up again once he speaks.
“You’re doing well. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Well, piss me off and this is what happens.”
“Really? That’s all it takes? A couple fighting words and you’re moving like this? Remind me to piss you off more often then.”
“Please don’t. Between you and my best friend I don’t think my blood pressure can take much more than this. Any higher and I’m finished.”
He chuckles lowly and your too busy admiring the deep timbre of his laugh so close to your ear that you don’t notice he’s pulling you around to face him until your standing right in front of him again.
His hands find their way to your hips but this time they’re timid. You freeze, standing between his parted legs, so close, your hands braced against his shoulders as you stare down at him. He seems to be just as frozen, seemingly shocked still by the proximity of your body to his. His hands maintain their light hold on your hips, not wanting to push you farther than your willing to go, as if he’s waiting on you to make your next move. It’s cute
 his hesitance. He’s being polite, an action you’d never expect to come out of the usually cocky man sitting before you, and your thankful. It gives you the much needed confidence to continue, your movements becoming bolder, raunchier.
And suddenly you’re pushing off from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as your move in time to the music. You don’t watch him for long though, it’ll only make you more nervous than you already are. You can already feel that sudden burst of confidence starting to dwindle but you don’t want to give in to nerves now. You’ve come to far.
You spin around, continuing with that same sensual sway before you bend over suddenly at the drop of a beat, your head down by your knees and your hand at your feet. You don’t know where all this is coming from. How you are doing it. You must be pulling from the mental compartment of all the dance moves from female artists you had admired but could never pull off.
Whatever the case may be, you know one thing for certain, you are doing what feels right. It’s just you and the music and your body is responding to it. What you have yet to realize, however, is that the man in the chair is also responding to something. And it isn’t the music.
_____
Hoseok watches as you slowly drag yourself back up, turning yourself around to face him again. The whole time he just has a front row to seat to your ass. I mean it’s just there. He’s starting to think this was a bad idea, but in his defense, he didn’t know you’d turn out to be such a fucking tease. Once you let your guard down, he couldn’t deny that you actually had some moves. There was some rhythm in your bones somewhere. Buried deep, deep down beneath all that ice.
But soon Hoseok is losing focus again as your shimmying turns into a slow stalk towards him. Your face – determined, concentrated, his – apprehensive, and so unbelievably turned on.
You grab for the back of his neck with one hand, drawing your faces close, as you sink down on his thigh, beginning a slow grind there.
Yep, definitely a bad idea, he thinks.
Where was all this coming from? You had to be fucking with him. You must’ve known how to dance all along because this is ridiculous. No, it’s ridiculous how turned on he is right now and you haven’t even done much but move your hips.
Well, now you’re grinding said hips on his thigh and that’s ten times more distracting. It doesn’t make sense really. He’s seen way better dancers – at strips clubs, some of his fellow coworkers, hell even some of the half-drunken girls at parties he’s been to. He’s seen all the tricks, the way they oozed sexuality with each and every movement. But there was something about you that held him hostage. He was intoxicated. By what he doesn’t know.
It must be your eyes. So dark and captivating, yet so innocent at the same time. Or maybe it was the fact that you did prove him wrong. And he didn’t know whether to be thankful or resent the fact that you did

He’s not sure, but for the life of him he hopes you don’t notice his body’s reaction in response to your actions.
_____
Holy shit, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. Grabbing his neck and taking a seat on his lap seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re behind made contact with his thighs? Different story. But still
you want to prove him wrong. Not just that, you want to prove to yourself that you could do this. So, summoning all the courage you had left in you, you ground down on him. Your hand still holding his neck, your faces mere inches apart as you ground your hips into his crotch. The shocked expression on his face and his blown out pupils only encouraged you, urging you to move faster, grind just a bit harder.
"You didn’t tell me you could move like this,” he mutters lowly, so lowly that if anyone else were to be in the room, only you would be able to hear him.
You falter slightly, not expecting his voice because it felt like ages ago since either one of you spoke. However, you quickly recover, composing yourself to reply to him.
“I didn’t know I could.”
He glances down, then back up. “Clearly you can.”
At this point your faces are even closer than you were before, nose to nose, and his hands have once again found their way to your waist. He doesn’t control your movements, as he did before, instead his hands seem to follow your lead, allowing you to remain in control.
The gesture is subtle, but you pick up on it nonetheless. It’s sweet, you think, how he’s not forcing you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, allowing you to be in control of your body.
You find yourself leaning forward, something about him drawing you in. You are staring into eyes and his intense gaze meets your own right back. You also find that your lower half has migrated from the end of his thighs to closer and closer to his crotch. And what you find there makes your breath hitch, voice caught in your throat.
If he knows that you noticed the slight bulge forming in his pants he doesn’t say anything. And neither do you. Instead the both of you just continue to stare at each other. Your hips have halted all movement, the room silent except for your heavy breaths and the sound of the music in the background.
Your arms are still around his neck and the position is intimate so intimate, but you don’t pull away.
He looks up at you, bottom lip between his teeth, as he studies you, and he looks like he’s about to say something but at that moment the door to the studio swings open and you are scrambling off his lap in an instant. Your butt makes contact with the hard wood of the floor and you wince. Hoseok had been nice enough to try to save you from your inevitable fall but when he couldn’t he offers you a hand up instead.
Your eyes snap to the man in the doorway when you hear him start to speak.
“Sorry, am I
 interrupting something?” The man queries, the expression on his face puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.
“No, not at all!” Hoseok blurts, then composes himself, “I was just in the middle of a lesson, what do you need Jungkook?”
“Sorry, uh right. I was wondering if you could cover my class tomorrow? The 8-10 year olds? I got a group assignment for school I can’t miss.”
“No problem. Why didn’t you just text me?”
“You weren’t answering your phone. I figured you were in here rehearsing like always, I didn’t know you had a lesson going on, sorry.” The kid does look sincerely remorseful for barging in on you guys but you couldn’t help but find his wide eyes and puppy-dog expression cute. Speaking of cute, you were starting to wonder whether being attractive was a requirement for working here because so far everyone you had come into contact with was insanely good-looking.
“It’s okay. I guess I didn’t tell you I had a lesson tonight.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly out o breath even though he wasn’t the one dancing. Gesturing between you both, he introduces you to each other and says, “You have got to stop meeting my friends this way. But all this is telling me is that my friends lack manners and need to learn how to knock.”
Jungkook blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he glances at you and gives you a small wave. Adorable.
You wave back, smiling politely as you ask him, “So Jungkook, you’re a dance instructor here too?”
“Yep. I mostly lead the children’s hip hop classes but I assist in the adult classes occasionally.”
Hoseok claps his hands together, “Alright, I think Jungkook’s intrusion wraps up our lesson. Kook I’ll see you later. Text me the details of the class so I know what I’m doing when I get there okay?” Jungkook nods his okay and they say their goodbyes. Once the door swings closed again Hoseok turns to see you have already started collecting your things.
“Your friends seem so much sweeter than you.”
“Here we go again, you assuming you know my friends better than I do when you don’t.”
“What?” you shrug. “The kid’s adorable. Like a cute little puppy.”
“Yeah, well sorry you’re stuck with me. JK doesn’t do private lessons.” You zip up your backpack and throw it over your shoulder as you stand, turning to face him. “Aww that’s too bad. Maybe I can get him to make an exception?” You put your finger to your chin in thought.
“You really didn’t do too bad today you know.”
You’re confused by the sudden change in topic but his next statement clears it up for you.
“Your dancing. It was actually
 pretty good.”
You blush at the compliment. Really? He really thought you did well? You don’t know why you are surprised because you could obviously tell by his body language a few minutes ago that he was into it but
it felt good to hear him say it.
“Uh, thanks.” You say like an idiot. God why did words fail you at the most inopportune of times.
“No problem. See, I told you all you needed was a little push.”
You smile and nod at him again (like an idiot) but you can’t help it. You don’t know what to say. It’s like you were suddenly overwhelmed with a fresh wave of nerves.
“Well it’s getting late. I guess I’ll head out.”
“Right, uh, I-I’m gonna go now too. Uh, thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.” He flashes his megawatt smile at you and you feel the butterflies stir.
Sending one more tight smile has way you turn on your heel and make your way to the door as quickly as you can without actually running.
God, what did you get yourself into?
.
.
.
A week later you are sitting at the shitty desk in the shitty building of your shitty job.
In case it wasn’t clear enough, you really didn’t like your job.
Originally you had took it because you thought it would be a good entryway into the publishing world. Turns out you were just doing the job of a glorified intern, answering phone calls, responding to emails, and (you guessed it) going on the occasional coffee run.
Fucking secretarial work. You should have known this is what you would be doing when you applied, really. You had thought this job would give you exposure to the world of writing, publishing, and editing but sadly you were wrong. The lengths of your exposure spanned asking a client what day of the week worked best for them to meet with a staff member to discuss their work.
Thankfully, with only one semester left in school, you wouldn’t have to wait long until you could apply for work that you actually wanted to do. Once you figured that out, exactly. At only 24, most people would say you were doing well for yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel as if life was passing you by and everyone was leaving you behind.
You took a break from school for a year to save up enough money to go back but when you did, it wasn’t easy. Who knew taking a year off could make it so hard to get back into the groove of things? You had to grind full time for awhile in order to catch up. In the meantime though, you were stuck here.
Currently, you were supposed to be responding to emails but you were attending to much more important business.
Chae: So y'all bumped and grinded on each other
 and he almost kissed you. I’m struggling to see the downside to all this
You: I said it felt like we were gonna kiss, not 'he almost kissed me’ Big difference.
Chae: Sounds the same to me
You: And the downside is that now things are going to be awkward between us. We were actually starting to become cordial with each other, dare i say friends even. now that’s all shot to shit
Chae: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward ;)
You: Exactly! Have you met me?!
Chae: You’re overreacting! He obviously likes you so quit worrying.
You: Oh yeah? What makes you so sure of that?
Chae: He let you dance on him for 15 minutes and popped a stiffy from it. I think he likes you.
You: I have got to stop telling you every little thing about my life.
Chae: Try as hard as you want but I’ll pry it out of you sooner or later!
Just as you were about to type out a snarky reply in response, your phone pinged with the alert of a new message.
But it wasn’t from Chaeyoung.
It was from Hoseok.
Hoseok: Hey
And then, another ping, alerting you that second message had come in.
Hoseok: I’m so sorry, but I have to cancel our lesson tomorrow. I have a thing I gotta go to. Hope you understand :)
Great. Now he was cancelling on you. Must be trying to avoid you after what happened last session. Chaeyoung wasn’t always right, as she liked to believe.
You: Yeah, well if he likes me so much why did he cancel our lesson tomorrow?
Chae: What?
You: Yep. He cancelled just now. Said he had a 'thing’
Chae: Ppl have to go to 'things’ all the time. Relax. I can 100% bet that he still likes you
You: Sure (◔_◔)
And that was the end of that conversation because eventually you did get back to work, even if all you did was pretend to organize the files in your already alphabetically-coded drawer. By the time it was time to clock out you were already packed up and ready to go, all you were waiting on was the clock to hit 6pm.
You had absolutely no plans today, a rare occasion that you got to go home and not have to worry about how you were going to finish several assignments for classes that you a) had little to no time on, or b) had ample time for but procrastinated on.
All you wanted was to go home and curl up in front of your couch with your dinner.
You gasped. Dinner. It was sad to say, but you had absolutely no food in your home to make a warm home cooked meal tonight. With your roommate having gone to visit her family back home, the house had been even emptier than usual. And you were too lazy to go grocery shopping tonight, it would have to wait until the weekend. So, as you got in your car you pondered your options for where you would be getting your next meal from.
There was a Korean place nearby that you had always wanted to try. You guess now was the perfect opportunity unless you wanted to go home and put together a dinner made out of cereal dust and cup ramen.
As appetizing as that sounded (it didn’t), you quickly changed lanes, heading for the restaurant a few miles away from you.
When you got there you were surprised. Not by the decor, or by the delicious smell of food wafting through the air, but because the man standing directly in front of you looked like your dance instructor. You hadn’t memorized the back of his head or anything, but you were pretty sure this was Hoseok standing in front of you and not some eerily similar doppelganger.
He stood in line waiting to order his food, hat pulled down low over his eyes and head buried in his phone. He hadn’t noticed you yet, thankfully, and you took this time to ponder whether you should make yourself known or just go home to your sad dinner of cereal flakes and cup noodles.
The last time you two talked you had turned into a awkward, stuttering mess, so wanting to save yourself the embarrassment of having to go through that again, you had decided to slip out as inconspicuously as possible.
No luck. Unfortunately, Hoseok chose that moment to look up from his phone, swiveling his neck around on his shoulders for a stretch.
You were backing away quietly toward the door so you saw the exact moment Hoseok recognized you, double taking to confirm that it was in fact you. You hear your name fall from his lips in question and you resist the urge to visibly wince.
“Hoseok!” You say feigning enthusiasm. “What’re you doing here?” The fake smile plastered on your face is probably terrifying.
“Just grabbing dinner. My buddy owns this place so I get a nice discount. You grabbing dinner too?”
“Yeah, yep.” Jesus, fuck. “Though I don’t have a friend who works here so I guess I’ll be paying full price.” How much longer did you have to endure this torture?
He laughs at that, and it does something weird to your stomach. The butterflies are acting up again, but this time it isn’t due to nerves.
“Listen, I’m really sorry I had to cancel our lesson. It’s just there’s something I forgot about and
”
You interject to help move the conversation along. You do not want to talk about dance, or lessons, or anything at all right now.
“Hey, no worries. I get it. You make me out to be way more devastated than I actually am.”
He laughs again saying, “Stop lying. You would’ve quit weeks ago if you didn’t like dancing at least a little.”
Maybe he was right. You don’t know. You certainly didn’t hate it as much as you did when you started, but love? Hmm, must be still getting there. You force your other theory, the one where you decided to keep up the lessons because of the person teaching them, down deep into the recesses of your brain. 
You go to answer him but before any of you can say anything else, it’s Hoseok’s turn in line.
He greets the host comfortably, they seem to know each other, presumably because Hoseok’s friend owns the place and he must come here all the time.
“Jaehyun, haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”
“Good, good. Me and the wife took a vacation away from the kids and lemme tell you, best sleep I’ve had in a long time. You still working for that crappy boss of yours?”
Crappy boss? As far as you knew Hoseok seemed to be comfortable with his job at the studio. You had even met the owner one time and she didn’t seem to be a total stick in the ass. In fact it was quite the opposite. You remember you had been running late to practice after work one day, struggling to lug your bag, your change of clothes and sneakers all into the studio. The owner had been passing by when she saw you and kindly offered to give you a hand. But then again, some people tended acted different towards their employees versus a paying customer.
“No, no I quit not too long ago. Seokjin here today?”
“Oh really? And yeah he’s in the back. I can go grab him for you if you want-” The host, Jaehyun says, already making his way to the back of the restaurant.
“No need. I’ll see him later no doubt.” Hoseok replies.
“Alright. You want the usual, to go?”
“Actually,” Hoseok glances at you,“I think I’ll eat here tonight. Can I get a table for two?”
“Sure, no problem.” You see Jaehyun’s eyes land on you standing awkwardly off to the side before they’re back on Hoseok, “Just give me a minute.”
You’re confused. Was Hoseok meeting up with someone? That’s the only plausible reason for him asking for a table for a table for two. You panic. What if he meeting up with a date? God you needed to hurry up and order your food so you could get the hell out of there.
But then Hoseok is turning to you, his eyes wide and hopeful.
“Have dinner with me?” he says.
“What?” You must have misheard.
He laughs, though this time you don’t know why. “I said have dinner with me. Come on, I could use the company. Unless
 you have other plans?” And for a moment he looks disappointed.
Yeah, your other plans consisted of curling up on your couch and stuffing your face of bulgolgi but you don’t tell him that. In fact, you’re starting to think you must be a masochist because despite your nerves just a moment ago you agree to eat with him anyway.
“Uh, no. No plans.” you mumble.
“Great, so you’ll eat with me?”
You nod tentatively in response and that elicits a wide smile from him that lights up his face like the sun. You sigh, following Hoseok to a table near the back of the restaurant. You’re more whipped than you thought.
The food is good, oh my god it’s so good. Why hadn’t you come here sooner?
You’re in the middle of shoving another serving of pork belly into your mouth when Hoseok (who you had honestly forgotten was there) speaks.
“Whoa, slow down. A-are you even chewing? Please tell me you’re chewing and not just inhaling your food.”
You moan around a spoonful of sliced beef, rice, and vegetables, the spices meshing together and hitting your tongue just right. “Can’t talk. Eating.”
He shakes his head, attention now on his own food and making sure the meat on the grill between you doesn’t burn.
“Well, I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to put in a little extra for chef then. He never cooks like this when I’m by myself.”
You stop eating mid-chew, tearing your eyes away from the table to shoot him a look. “Hoseok, I don’t know if this is what I think you mean but you’re not paying for my food.”
“I already told you, it’s your first time here so don’t worry about it. Plus, it’s the least I can do for disrupting a busy woman such as yourself.”
Something about the twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his face while he says it gives you the impression that he knew you had absolutely nothing better to do tonight.
At his words, you momentarily forget your argument and say, “Excuse me. I’ll have you know I am very busy, okay? So drop the sarcasm. I had several plans lined up for tonight.” You huff indignantly. 
“Oh yeah, like what?” he queries looking up at you in between turning the meet over on the grill. 
Shit. “Like... you know. Stuff,” you shrug. 
His light cackle fills the air and you would be more upset that he was laughing at you if said laugh didn’t warm your insides and bring a smile to your own lips. 
“I can’t believe you haven’t been here before.”
“Me neither. And I’ll be beating myself up everyday for not having come sooner. This is fucking delicious.”
“Yeah, I know,” an amused expression crosses his face as he resumes watching you scarf down the rest of your meal. “Save some for me, yeah?”
“You snooze you lose.” Comes your retort, already reaching for your next mouthful of food. “You said you’re friend owns this place?”
“Yes he does. The friend’s name is Kim Seokjin. That’s me. I’m Kim Seokjin.” You register that another voice has entered the conversation and you look behind Hoseok to see a handsome man smiling brightly at the pair of you, his hands resting on good-naturedly on Hoseok’s shoulders.
“Glad to see you’re enjoying my food. If you’re going to get anything out of this date I’m glad it’s a good meal.” Seokjin says to you.
This time, you do choke. Coughing hysterically, you reach for your glass of water in an effort to clear your throat. Date? Hoseok’s friend thinks you were on a date.
Just great, add more fuel to your fantasies.
Hoseok blanches, looking back at Seokjin to clarify. “Seokjin, you know damn well I stopped bringing my dates here after what happened the last time.”He gestures to you, “This is ___. She does lessons with me.”
No longer coughing up a lung like a madwoman, you shyly wave in greeting when Seokjin looks your way.
“Nice to meet you ___. Ignore him, I’m sure anything I said at the time was perfectly appropriate.”
“You told her I can only get it up if we’re both cosplaying as titans from that weird cartoon you watch!”
“Anime, Hoseok, it’s called anime. And your kink is nothing to be ashamed of! There are plenty communities of people out there with the same fetish. I just had to give your date a warning in case she wasn’t into that sorta thing. I was only doing you a favor.” Seokjin shrugs.
Hoseok huffs in frustration and you chuckle quietly at their antics. Seokjin, hmm? So far you think you like this guy. You haven’t seen Hoseok this flustered in
 ever.
The squabbling between the pair dies down and you tune back into the conversation when Seokjin turns serious.
“How’s things going at the firm 'seok? That place keeping you busy?”
All of a sudden Hoseok looks, nervous? And not the flustered kind of nervous he was just a moment ago when Seokjin was teasing him. He’s more anxious than anything. He brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck before he replies,
“Yeah, I uh
 I quit actually.” he mutters sheepishly.
You think Seokjin’s eyes are going to pop out of his head with how far they bug out of their sockets. “Quit? What do you mean quit? Since when?”
Hoseok glares at the other man, as if trying to telepathically communicate that he should keep his voice down.
He elaborates, “I don’t know, about a month ago? Listen, it’s not a big deal.”
Seokjin bellows with laughter at that, a hand placed on Hoseok’s shoulder for balance as he doubles over in mirth. Once he comes to again, he wipes a tear from his eye dramatically and straightens up.
“Ha, good one. Not a big deal? Wasn’t that your old man’s dream for you your whole entire life and it’s 'not a big deal’?”
Hoseok winces at that and you’re starting to realize that this conversation is venturing into personal matters. Personal matters that are obviously a very touchy subject for Hoseok if his reaction is anything to go by.
“Yeah, well it’s not my old man’s life to live now is it?”
Hoseok says lowly and at that the conversation halts for several moments.
You’re thankful for the chatter of other patrons, the sounds of metal hitting ceramic, and the distant street noise coming from outside or this long lull in the conversation would have been way more awkward than it already is. You are beginning to wonder whether you should just leave enough money on the table to pay your half of the bill and go home but then Hoseok is speaking again.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that it’s just
 I was tired of people telling me what I should be doing, especially my dad. So, I quit. I never liked that job anyway.”
Seokjin nods his head in understanding. “No, I get it. I’m glad you’re out actually. You always seemed so miserable there and you never had time to hang out anymore. I take it you’re at the studio full time now?”
“Yep. I’ve felt better than I have in a long time too. Despite being on my feet most days I feel like I have more energy than I ever have working in that hellhole.”
“Good. I’m proud of you. What did your dad say?”
That anxious look is back on Hoseok’s face.
“Funny story. I kind of
 haven'ttoldhimyet.” The last part of his sentence is rushed and muttered under his breath but Seokjin still clearly manages to hear what he had said.
“You what?! Hoseok, you have to tell him! It’s gonna crush him but he needs to know.”
Hoseok swats at Seokjin’s head as if trying to shoo him away when he leaned closer to shout at the man sitting in the booth before him.
“I know, I’m working on it. I just need time. That’s why I didn’t tell you right away. You can’t your mouth shut for shit.” Seokjin places a hand on his chest, offended
“Excuse you I can keep secrets, especially the one you’re keeping from your dad right now. Just tell him soon, he’s gonna find out eventually.”
“I know, I’m just not ready yet. But I will be! Soon.”
Hoseok starts playing with fingers dejectedly and Seokjin looks down at him pityingly.
He looks so sad and small, and the sight tugs at your heart strings immensely. Suddenly Seokjin turns to you as if just now remembering you had been sitting there the entire time.
“I don’t think you can blame me for scaring off your date this time Hoseok. This was all you buddy.” Seokjin says with a pat to the other man’s shoulder, most likely trying to lighten the mood.
“Again, not a date. And I still blame you. You’re the one who asked me about my job.” Hoseok counters.
“Fine,” Seokjin brushes Hoseok off with a huff before he turns back to you. “But I still feel bad. Tell you what, I’ll throw in a free dessert, any one you want, on the house.”
“Oh it’s ok, you don’t have to-” you begin but Hoseok cuts you off.
“She’ll take it. She’s not even paying so I’ll take any discounts I can get.”
“Oh, well in that case, it’s standard price and extra for any extra toppings.” He turns back to you, “I recommend getting the sweet rice cakes with red bean paste. Absolutely delicious.”
Hoseok bristles. “Isn’t that the most expensive thing on the dessert men-”
“And with that I bid you all adew! Nice meeting you ___. And Hoseok, tell your dad about the thing!”
Seokjin shouts as he makes his way back to wherever the hell he came from. You barely had time to say goodbye as you watch him disappear toward the back of the restaurant.
You can’t help but smile as you observe Hoseok expression, elbows propped up on the table as he rubs his temples in annoyance.
“I like him,” you say decisively.
Hoseok still has his eyes closed when he replies.
“And the saga continues. How many more of my friends can you meet without taking an instant liking to them over me?”
“It depends, how many more friends do you have?”
His eyes snap open.
“None. No more. Seokjin was the last of ‘em. I’m a very lonely guy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
You nod along dismissively. Hoseok was, generally, a very freindly guy (aside from that one fluke the first night you had met him), so you doubted any of that was true. 
“Listen, I’m sorry you had to see all that. Seokjin just kept prying. He must’ve forgotten we were in public. Or he didn’t care,” a pause, “He just didn’t care.” he declares.
You decide not to give him a hard time especially after hearing some things he probably never meant for you to hear.
“Don’t apologize. I get it, we all have overbearing parents, some more so than others.”
He laughs bitterly, “Yeah, my dad’s one of the more overbearing types I guess. Fucking sucks, really.”
You give him a pitying smile to try and convey that you understand where he’s coming from but you don’t, not really.
Your parents had always been pretty supportive of you, always letting you try whatever little activity caught your eye only to inevitably drop it two weeks later in favor of a new one. Your dad had always said “Let the girl try it. It’ll build her character,” all those times your mom got fed up with your lack of commitment to any one thing. You tried basketball (no hand-eye coordination at all) and drawing (too meticulous) and martial arts (sports just weren’t your thing) until you found something you did like. Writing. You had always loved reading and writing, so much so that you had joined the neighborhood book club (that was only comprised of retirement aged grandmas and a sprinkle of middle aged moms) to discuss your favorite books. In high school, you had become an active participant in the creative writing club, even going so far as to become the vice-president in your senior year.
So no, it didn’t really make much sense to you when someone told you they had an overbearing parent. Why would you want to limit your child by putting them in a box of what you think he or she is capable of doing?
So, as you sit there and wonder what you’re life would have been like if your parents didn’t let you experience these things, Hoseok continues.
“My dad he’s
 he’s not a bad guy it’s just, he’s got a fixed idea of what I should be doing with my life.”
“Ohh.” You blank in recognition. “Let me guess, you don’t want to do that do you?” you query.
Hoseok nods. “Ever since I was little he was always saying ‘go to college, study something practical, get a high paying job.’ It’s like he never stopped to consider what I wanted.”
You nod, finally understanding. “Sometimes people just want the best for their kids but they don’t realize that their hurting them in the process.”
Hoseok’s eyes glimmer with the excitement that someone finally gets it. “Exactly. I’d just wish he realize that what’s best for me is doing what I want to do, not living out whatever plan he had laid out for me.”
“And what is it? That you want to do?” You ask. The answer should be obvious.
It is obvious. The man looks like he lives and breathes dance. Often more times than not he is a couple minutes late to your lessons because he got held up rehearsing for his own showcase, or staying behind to help a few of his other students with a difficult part of the choreography. Whatever plan he has laid out for himself you know dancing is an integral part of it. That’s why it does not come as a surprise to you when he says,
“Dance. I love it.”
You gasp, sarcasm laced in your tone, “I never would’ve guessed!”
He smiles. “I’m not sure how far I can go with this. I just know that it comes as natural to me as breathing and I never want to stop. And I want to make a living doing something I love, ya know? God, forbid I get into a freak accident or something. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” He chuckles but you don’t doubt for one second that he is dead serious. You admire his passion and his bravery for getting out there and actively seeking out what he wants. Most kids wouldn’t dare defy their parents, even if it means sacrificing their own happiness.
Hoseok didn’t, refused, to settle. It’s admirable.
“I’m proud of you.” you say seriously.
“What?”
“I said I’m proud of you. I know I’m not your dad and I don’t have some lifelong bond with you that would warrant you wanting my approval, but, if it means anything, I’m proud of you. For living your life the way you want to.”
He’s silent for a moment, seemingly awestruck by the fact that you didn’t say anything sarcastic, or slightly insulting, for once. It’s actually quite
nice. He’s not sure how to respond yet but his body warms a little inside at your remark.
“Uh, thanks. Yeah, i-it does mean something. Means a lot.” And he’s back to sheepish again, his face turning a cute shade of tomato red in response.
You learn a lot about Hoseok that night. He was two years older than you, for one, and apparently he had a degree in business analytics, which was
 completely not Hoseok to say the least.
In other words it was extremely shocking to you, but it was something he had completed at the insistence of his father. He had been working in sales for about a year when he decided to call it quits. Ever since he’s been working at the studio full time as an instructor. He makes significantly less money now, but at least now he doesn’t dread the thought of waking up to go to a job he never liked in the first place.
He shows you his instagram page (something you had already studied extensively after that night Chaeyoung had discovered it) where he posts his original choreography and clips of the showcases he’s done. He tells you he’s been meaning to start up a YouTube channel where he can post longer clips and tutorials. The whole time he speaks rather excitedly about it all, like a little kid talking about their favorite cartoon. It’s endearing, seeing his eyes light up like stars as he talks about his goals. He even tells you he wants to open up his own studio one day, although something about the way he says it makes him seem unsure if of it’s possibility, uncertainty flooding his irises and replacing that shiny glimmer.
You tell him to go for it. You have full faith in him that he’ll have a studio to call his own in no time. You’ve seen the comments under his videos, praising him, begging him to upload step-by-step tutorials so they can learn the choreography for themselves. You have no doubt that anyone who’s serious about dance will want to train under him, you included. And so you tell him that. He’s already come this far, why stop now?
The conversation even ventures into your own career. Wherever that’s headed. You tell him you’re in your last semester of school and about you’re major in English literature. It’s something you always liked but you’ve been unsure of the kind of career you wanted to pursue. There seemed to be too many options, yet none at all. You weren’t conducive to teaching, if what happened in the 7th grade when you tried to tutor little Johnny from next door was anything to go by, then yeah – it was best you left teaching alone.
Hoseok tells you that you and his dad might get along. He was a literature teacher, though more of the Korean literature variety. He then asks you if you’d ever be an author. You like writing but how often do people become successful authors and make a decent living off of it?
“If you’re any good you’ll make it. You should let me read some of your work. I’m an honest critic, I swear.” Hoseok says. Hoseok is the last person you’ll ever let read your silly drabbles and poetic musings. Honest critic or not, there’s still something raw, vulnerable about letting anyone, let alone him, read your work.
And you hate to admit it but you had a feeling you’d value his opinion a little more than you’d like to.
You both continue to talk, your conversation surprisingly deep, as you finish up your meals. Hoseok had ended up ordering the sweet rice cakes even though you told him not to. But boy are you glad he didn’t listen. One bite in and you feel like you have died and gone straight to sticky rice heaven.
Hoseok also gets away with paying the bill, despite your loud protests against it. Although you do manage to slip him a twenty, refusing to take another lesson from him if he doesn’t keep it.
You actually had fun tonight, not something you had thought you would be saying when you first stepped into the restaurant and saw Hoseok standing in line. But now
 now you don’t want the night to end.
Thankfully, Hoseok, must not either, which is why he offers to take you to a nifty little ice cream parlor that he swears has the best soft serve in town. Two desserts in one night isn’t exactly ideal, but neither of you are complaining. Now as you sit on a bench outside slurping on your quickly melting double chocolate fudge cone, you are content. The softly flowing waters of the river before you provide calming background noise to the otherwise quiet night.
“So have you applied what you learned in an actual club yet or what?” Hoseok says between licks of his mint chocolate chip ice cream.
You choke on your ice cream (you don’t know how but you do).
“Ex-scuse me?” You mumble around a bite of the cold dessert.
Hoseok chuckles at your flustered response.
“When was the last time you’ve been to a club?” he asks again.
“Um- awhile actually. And I’m not exactly thrilled to go back.” Your surprised Chaeyoung hasn’t dragged you out to yet another club in weeks. She must be busy. That or she’s just giving you time to get settled with these lessons before she forces you onto a club dance floor.
“You should go back. See if you’ve improved at all.”
“Well I better have or you’re a terrible teacher and I want my money back.”
He just shakes his head rather than dignifying your comment with a response.
“So tell me,” he begins, “What’s the real reason you decided to take my lessons?”
“Huh?” You tilt your head in confusion.
“You heard me. You can’t just be taking lessons because ‘you want to learn how to dance in a club.’ I had a feeling you were lying when you first told me but I didn’t want to push it. So tell me, why are you really here?” He queries, eyes squinted at you in suspicion.
Try as you might to deny it, he’s onto something. Although this whole thing had started because Chaeyoung suggested that you get lessons to get over your fear of club dancing, perhaps you definitely had ulterior motives when you initially agreed. You guess Hoseok was starting to catch on that you can’t just be taking his lessons for something as silly as dancing in a sweaty, grimy club. And he was right. So you tell him the truth.
“My dad, he was in a group when he was younger. He and his friends started it up expecting nothing serious to come out of it, but they eventually started seeing some success in it. They started competing in competitions which blossomed into them winning a few. They even became back up dancers for a couple of the local artists in his town. My dad used to tell me all about his days as a street dancer and he seemed so happy then.“
You relay the story of your father’s background, a faint smile on your face as you are reminded of all those times he used to sit you on his lap and tell you all about his glory days.
"They were dancers of the popping/locking variety.” You gesture to Hoseok, him most likely being familiar with the technique. “And he wanted to make a career out of it too but, I don’t know – life happened I guess. He met my mom and pretty soon I was here.” Hoseok is nodding along, paying attention to your every word as you tell him your family history.
“It was an unplanned pregnancy but my parents weren’t upset or anything. They just
 adjusted. My dad had to put his dream on hold to support us, especially with his father-in-law breathing down his neck that he needed to get a real job to support my mom and me. So, he eventually settled down. He made decent money, so he never really complained but he never did get back to dancing. Not really.”
You shrug thinking about your childhood with your father. He was the best dad, always there for you, making you laugh, but more often than not you would spot something somber floating in the depths of his eyes. Something just below the surface, but subdued enough to make you believe you needn’t worry.
“But as long as I remember he was always dancing.” You remember those early mornings, waking up to soft music playing as your dad danced with your mom in the kitchen, her shrieking at him to stop fooling around before she burned the pancakes and, him, laughing heartily as he tried to coax her into a swing.
“He loved it. Dancing was his passion. Kinda like you really.” You pause to look at him.
“He tried to get me into it but I never took, obviously. I guess that’s why, now, I’m trying to pay homage to him. I don’t know it sounds stupid but, I want to connect with him in some way and dancing is the only way I know how.”
You didn’t mean to tell Hoseok this much about your personal life but once you started talking, it was hard to stop. Hoseok was a surprisingly good listener, but more than that you realized that it had been a long while since you talked about your father. You figured that you needed to get this off your chest and Hoseok generously lended an ear to listen.
Hoseok makes sure your looking at him before he says, genuinely, “It doesn’t sound stupid. Not at all.”
His words strike a chord in you and you feel grateful that you joined him tonight.
He holds eye contact with you for long after he finishes speaking. It’s too quiet, the only sounds you hear are the gentle pitter patter of the water before you, and you swear you can hear both of your breaths, slow and heavy. He holds your gaze and
 did his eyes drop down to your lips or are you hallucinating? If they did it happens too fast for your soju-riddled brain to comprehend because now his eyes (if they ever left) are back up at yours. His stare is intense, too intense, which is why you find yourself snapping out of your haze and averting your eyes to your rapidly melting ice cream.
Hoseok clears his throat, adding some much needed noise to the otherwise tense atmosphere.
“Your dad sounds a lot like me actually. Mind if we switch?” he jokes.
You smile, grateful that the awkwardness from earlier starts to dissipate. “I’d love to but I don’t think it’d be much of a fair trade. My dad died a couple years ago.”
Hoseok winces, his attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, seeming to have worsened it instead. “I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed like a really great guy.”
“It’s no biggie. He was sick and we knew he would have to pass eventually. And, you’re right, he was a great guy. I have a feeling you guys would’ve gotten along well. Could’ve even given you a couple pointers.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I guess you’re not wrong though. I would’ve loved to learn from a guy like him.”
You smile. “God, now I wish you were his son. You would’ve made a way better student than I did, that’s for sure.”
Hoseok laughs. “Like I said, offers still up to take my old man. He probably would’ve loved another literature nerd to geek out with over similes or metaphors or whatever the hell you all get excited over.”
“I’m more of a sucker for descriptive imagery myself, but to each their own.”
Hoseok snorts around his final bite of his ice cream cone, thoroughly done with this conversation. You continue to lick your ice cream happily, pleased that you got the last word in.
 Hoseok drops you off back at Seokjin’s restaurant to pick up your car and from there you both part ways.
“I had fun tonight. We should do this again sometime.” he says as you try to fish your keys out of your purse.
Your heart flutters at the prospect of Hoseok wanting to spend more time with you. Finally locating your keys you unlock your car, sending Hoseok a response over your shoulder.
“We should. I severely underestimated you Jung Hoseok. You can be good company when you want to be.”
Salacious smile on his face, he pokes his head through the open window of your seat, his forearms resting against the car door.
“I’m really not that bad once you get to know me ice queen. I just had to get you to warm up to me. I can be good from time to time, but only if you let me.” He winks.
Heat rushes to your cheeks so incredibly fast you’re surprised you don’t pass out from it. God he’s unbelievable. Just when you think you’re getting over this silly crush he starts this to fuck you up all over again.
You groan audibly. “It was nice while it lasted. Goodnight, Hoseok.” you say tersely.
“Night, __! ” He calls cheerily over his shoulder and you watch him incredulously for a little bit before you drive off, headed straight for home.
When you do get home you run over the events of your night from beginning to end, not believing that it started out with you worrying that your next meeting with the dance instructor would be awkward.
You are grabbing some pajamas from your bottom drawer when you hear your phone ping with the alert of a new message.
You grab your phone from its place on the bedside table to read it.
Chae: Suit up, we’re going dancing bb.
You: When?
Chae: This Saturday. And bring your dancing shoes cause I’m inviting a few special guests.
You: Special guests???
Chae: You’ll see ;)
You don’t know what Chaeyoung is up to but you’re certain you don’t like the sound of it. Whatever she’s planning you push it to the back of your mind as you get ready for bed.
And once you do finally settle into the soft sheets of your heavy duvet, it takes you longer than expected to fall asleep. Because all you can think about is how soft Hoseok’s lips would feel pressed against yours if he had kissed you earlier on that park bench. How delicious his taste would’ve been, minty fresh and slightly sweet. How thoroughly you would have wanted his tongue to explore the recesses of your own mouth.
And suddenly you were awake, the growing wetness between your legs an undeniable indication of your desire.
Fucking hell, one little almost-kiss already had you reaching for that tiny motorized bullet in the top drawer of your nightstand. You were screwed.
.
.
.
Taehyung and Yoongi are not what you were thinking when Chae said you’d be having 'special guests’. Yoongi technically didn’t even count as a 'special guest’ anyway since he was working tonight.
And Taehyung came with you guys to the club almost always. You think the only time he skipped was when he had an extremely important final early the next day, but even then, it was like pulling teeth trying to convince him to stay home and get some rest. But when you mention this to Chaeyoung, she tells you they are not the 'special guests’ she was talking about.
You three sit by the bar, chatting with Yoongi while he polishes glassware, occasionally dipping away to attend to real customers. This routine is normal for you, but somehow tonight feels different.
As the night goes on you get more and more wary, truly scared of what Chaeyoung has planned. Everyone’s acting strange. Chae, especially. Sure, you guys make small talk but it’s weird because you all never make small talk. At least small talk this awkward and stilted. Yoongi asks you how your lessons are going and you respond truthfully.
“Kicking my ass but I’m no bitch so I’m getting through it.”
Taehyung jumps in too, trying to make chit-chat about how your last semester at school is treating you. Usually you like talking to Taehyung about these sorts of things. He’s a good listener and gives you surprisingly good advice for someone who’s supposed to be younger than you. But tonight he seems distracted, like he’s only half listening. His eyes dart around the room several times before they inevitably fall back on you, pretending as if they never left.
They aren’t immediately jumping up to gyrate and dry hump the air either, which is also strange. Everyone seems like their waiting on something to happen, yourself included. The difference being that they know what that something is and you don’t. The suspense is killing you.
It was 10pm on a Saturday and you would much rather be at home but you’d be a fool to mess with your friends’ plans. You figured it would be a typical night out. It wasn’t.
For one, Chaeyoung had taken extra care to pick out your outfit for tonight, refusing to let you go with your usual selection of comfort over fashion. She even went as far as asking Taehyung (the resident fashion expert) to stop by a little early to give his opinion. Before you even got a foot out of the house, you were poked and prodded at, not a single hair on your head left out of place.
Now as you sat there in your little red number, you couldn’t help but wonder what all the fuss was about. Last time you checked it wasn’t your birthday, or a special occasion so what on earth was making them act so strange?
But when you spot a familiar head of light brown hair in the crowd you begin to realize.
“You invited Jimin?” you whisper-shout over the loud music to Chae. You can see that said head of light brown hair is making his way towards your section of the bar.
The smile originally directed at the brunette man making his way towards you all immediately disappears at your accusation.
“No. Must be coincidence.” She’s says before flagging Jimin down with an enthusiastic wave of her hand.
Coincidence my ass,you think. Jimin reaches you guys, that friendly smile on his face as he greets you all with a hug. He seems to already be familiar with Taehyung, apparently. This comes as a shock to you and go to ask Chaeyoung if they’ve all been going clubbing without you but something catches your eye. One more head is rapidly approaching your growing group.
“Jimin, what the fuck? I turned around for a second and you were gone.” Says the new visitor.
Jimin turns around to face his friend. “I told you to follow me. Why didn’t you listen?” While they argue you turn your attention to Chaeyoung, that conniving little–
“You invited Hoseok?” You grit out through clenched teeth, doing your best to control your volume so the red-head doesn’t hear you.
When she doesn’t do anything but smile coyly in response you turn your head to Taehyung and Yoongi.
“And you two, you knew didn’t you?”
Taehyung shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry ___. I wanted to tell you but she threatened to cut up all my button-downs if I did.”
“No excuse,” you say mercilessly, then turn to Yoongi who is still polishing that shot glass even though it’s been clean for the past 5 minutes now.
Yoongi looks up, eyebrows perked up at you as if to say, ’oh, you’re talking to me now?’ “I wasn’t threatened.” he says, expression bored. "Chaeyoung told me everything that happened starting with the day you first met him in that grocery store. When she told me her plan I was all in. You need some dick ___. Desperately.“
Taehyung snorts a laugh at that, trying (and failing) to hold it in when you glare at him. Chaeyoung lets out a full belly laugh not caring about the death glare you’re shooting her right now.
You turn back to Yoongi, giving him a taste of your medicine too. "What? I’m only stating the truth. ___, I love you but I can’t have you hanging around me the entire night. My tips were starting to dwindle and,” he leans in as if to tell you some big secret, “this may sound selfish but I like money just a teensy bit more than you.”
You pout childishly at him, about to complain that he’s a terrible friend but you freeze when you hear your name come from the taller of the two men beside you.
“___? Is that you?”
You take a moment before you look at him to calm yourself down. You saw him yesterday and that went fine, just relax. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. Maybe it was the fact that you were seeing him in a club setting, a place you were never really confident in to begin with.
You breathe in and out one last time hoping to god no one notices how long its taking you to gather yourself before you can respond.
But once you do look to Hoseok all your efforts to calm yourself down go to waste because holy fuck does he look good. A long sleeve button-up adorns his frame, the sleeves rolled up to expose his toned forearms. Tight black jeans emphasizing his finely toned legs. Even his hair is styled differently, the tousled red strands now slightly wavy, the curls cascading down his forehead prettily.
You must be taking too long to say something because the next thing you know, Jimin is speaking.
“Oh yeah, it is.” He looks to your friends. “I didn’t know you guys were friends with ___. She takes lessons with Hoseok at the studio. Right, 'seok?” He bumps Hoseok’s shoulder, which jolts him out of whatever haze he was in.
He shoots Jimin a glare, rubbing the spot where he bumped him tenderly. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t know you would be here. Jimin didn’t say he was meeting up with anyone when he dragged me along.”
Hoseok introduces himself to your group of friends, although you’re pretty sure he needs no introduction. Clearly Chaeyoung filled everyone in on exactly who he is.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys but I’m gonna go dance. Jimin? Taehyung? Care to join me?”
Jimin barely even gets out a “Sure, why not?” before Taehyung and Chae drag him off to the dance floor.
And then there were three. You turn to Yoongi, thankful for his presence. “Yoongi do-”
“Save that thought, I’ve got to attend to those paying customers over there. Be right back.” Yoongi says, heading towards the couple a few barstools down. They seem to be far more interested in their own conversation that you doubt they were even trying to get the bartender’s attention at all.
So far you’ve concluded two things from being out tonight. 1) You were friends with conniving little snakes, and 2) you needed new friends.
You hear Hoseok pulling out the seat next to you and you’re nerves shoot up all over again due to the fact that the two of you are all alone.
His eyes are back on you again and you feel self-conscious, not used to wearing something so revealing, especially in front of him. His eyes appraise you, and you swear you can feel your gut doing backflips inside you.
“You look great, you know. Red looks good on you.” Hoseok says genuinely.
“Thanks.” You give him a once over. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
”'Too bad?’ Wow, you really know how to compliment a guy, don’t you?“ He says but you can tell he’s not offended by the way he chuckles lightly at your comment.
You both fall into a comfortable silence, you sipping greedily on the drink in front of you as a way to calm your nerves. You’ve never been an avid drinker, but apparently tonight you are. Before you know it you’re a little past tipsy, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your body like a reassuring blanket. Your nerves are put to the test again, however, when Hoseok decides to break the silence.
“About the other night, I’m sorry again I had to cancel our lesson. My sister’s wedding is coming up and mom wanted everyone home for a family dinner. I wasn’t flaking on you or anything, I swear.”
You quickly swallow down the rest of the liquor in your mouth so you can talk. “Oh my god, don’t worry about it. Especially if it was a family thing. Like I said, I wasn’t even upset when you had to cancel.”
It was a lie. You were upset but not because you wouldn’t get to dance. More like you would be missing out on another chance to spend time with him.
“You keep saying that but I doubt it. It’s funny, I didn’t know you’d be out tonight. I wasn’t even planning on going anywhere but Jimin insisted I tag along. This must be fate.” he says.
You laugh internally. Fate. If you call the three stooges grinding up on each other a few feet away from you gate, then sure. Regardless, you tilt your head slightly in confusion, asking him what he means anyway.
He looks at you. “Well, this is your first night out in a while right? The other day I joked you should apply what you learned at a club but it’s not so much of a joke now. Come on, let’s see if you remember any of what I taught you.” At that he stands, taking your hand in his in an attempt to pull you off your stool.
You don’t budge, rooted to your spot like a stubborn weed in the grass.
“No thanks. You go, have fun. I’ll keep the drinks company.” You reach for your fruity concoction, taking a sip rather than obliging Hoseok’s requests for you to stand.
“Come onnnn, it won’t be that bad. If anyone laughs I’ll defend you, you’re all equally bad in my eyes, don’t worry.”
“Wow that makes me feel ten times worse, I’m definitely not going anywhere now.” You mutter. But when he pouts at you slightly, his eyes pleading for you to come join him, you relent, sliding off your stool and tugging your dress down before it can ride up any further on your thighs. You sigh. You figured you have to do this eventually.
If it wasn’t Hoseok you have no doubt your friends would come looking for you sooner or later. And they wouldn’t be as nice as Hoseok had been. He smiles victoriously when you stand, keeping your hand in his as he leads you out to an empty space on the dance floor.
You see your friends plus Jimin couple feet away caught up in their own world as usual.
Hoseok stops somewhere in the middle turning you to face him. He starts you out with something simple, guiding your movements as you sway along to the beat.
“See? Nice and easy, nothing crazy.” he reassures you.
But then he’s spinning you around, your back facing his front. When his hands glide around your waist you can feel the blood in your body as it makes it way to your cheeks. He molds you to him, brushing his hands down your arms before their landing firmly on your hips again.
Oh this guy, he thinks he’s such a fucking tease doesn’t he? Well, two can play at that game. The music is suggestive, sensual, similar to what you danced to back in his studio.
You can do this, you think. You roll your hips back experimentally, feeling a surge of confidence enter you when his breath hitches.
“Like this?” You say innocently, although your movements are anything but. “Am I doing okay?”
You try again, more firmly this time, making sure that he feels every inch of you against his crotch. The soft moan he releases by your head is music to your ears.
“More than okay.” Another groan when you grind down against him again.
“You’re full of surprises aren’t you?” he asks almost breathlessly.
Watching him come undone like this is nice, you think. This
 this you can do. Especially since each and every reaction you coax out of him just makes you feel that much bolder.
His hands come around to clutch you more firmly, securing one arm around your waist while his other remains attached to your hip, pressing you closer against him.
“Just a few,” you whisper, loud enough for him and him alone to hear.
He’s burying his head in your neck, the skin there soft and exposed and inviting. Your scent is so potent there, and as he drags his nose across your skin he can’t help but want a taste.
You whine, ready to just start begging him to drag his tongue along your already when you feel his lips on your skin. They’re soft at first, peppering your skin with light, tentative touches. But soon enough his lips are lingering. His kisses longer, sloppier. The open-mouthed kisses he trails across your neck are so hot and searing it causes the rest of your body to tingle with undeniable desire. You crane your neck even further if that’s possible, wanting him to mark up every inch of your bare skin. He engulfs your earlobe into his mouth, groaning into your ear when he speaks.
“You taste so sweet.”
You moan in response, too caught up in how good his tongue feels against the shell of your ear to say much else.
And then he’s trailing kisses down your jaw, all the way to your lips only to capture them in between his own in a kiss.
He groans into it, the taste of your lips even sweeter than your skin. But your twisting awkwardly to try and reach him properly and noticing your discomfort, he maneuvers your body in his arms, turning you to face him. Your arms immediately encircle his neck and his lock tight on the dip in your lower back, inching dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You devour his lips like a woman starved, and he does the same, thrusting his tongue between your lips, the both of you eager to explore each other.
Too soon he’s pulling away, and you chase the feeling, pouting when he doesn’t immediately press his lips to yours again. He’s panting breathlessly, smiling at your cute reaction.
“God what are you doing to me.” He presses his forehead against yours, rolling his hips up against you and that’s when you feel it.
A prominent bulge presses against the thin material of your dress and you feel a new wave of arousal hit you at the promise of what that holds. You press your legs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache between your thighs, unintentionally rubbing up against Hoseok in the process.
“Fuck,” he groans from deep within his throat. “I need to get you alone.” You nod enthusiastically, too out of it to say anything. All you know is that you need him, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.
Pressing one last kiss to your lips, Hoseok pulls away, dragging you behind him as he makes his way through the crowded bar.
After brushing past a crowd of sweaty drunken club goers, he’s finally pulling you into a co-ed bathroom, locking the door and pressing you against it. He wastes no time, attacking your lips again so you feel the full force of his mouth against yours. The kiss is deeper this time, tongues colliding sloppily and just the barest hint of teeth that makes you eager for more.
Your hands glide up his chest, the shirt you had admired earlier quickly becoming a obstacle in your desire to feel his bare skin against your palms.
You pull away slightly, just enough to murmur against his lips,
“Off.” You tug at his shirt.
He chuckles lowly, placing several quick pecks against your lips before he’s stepping back from you.
“Eager are we?” he teases, unbuttoning his shirt at a snail’s pace just to piss you off, no doubt.
You roll your eyes because yes, you are fucking eager.
Instead of responding you yank him back to you, swatting his hands away so you can undress him yourself. Once his shirt is all the way undone you take the opportunity to run your hands up and down his toned torso. Jesus, all those hours at the studio did him well. You’re distracted by his chest so it takes you off guard when his lips are suddenly back on you. His kisses are not as frantic this time but just as passionate.
You take your time exploring him. He breaks the kiss, moaning audibly when you graze his nipples with your thumbs. Sensitive is he? You smile, taking that information and filing it away for later.
But your moment of power is fleeting, however, because the next thing you know he is hiking your dress up, his hands kneading the supple flesh of your ass.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” One hand pushes your dress up over the curve of your ass while the other traces the delicate lace of your cotton panties.
“Ever since that day you sat on my lap and grinded on my thigh like a horny little slut.”
You moan at a combination of his words and the fact that he’s now cupping your clothed sex. You’re so wet and there’s no doubt he can feel you soaking through to your panties. But you don’t care. He’s massaging his fingers over your clit just right and ohmygod you don’t want him to stop.
“Or maybe it was before that. Who knows. But all I can think of lately is how pissed that sharp mouth of yours makes me and how much I want to fill it up.”
Good god you needed him to shut up. It’s embarrassing how close you are to coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet.
It’s funny because if anyone asked, 'deny, deny, deny’ had been your motto when it came to Hoseok. But once it actually came down to it you had to admit that you’ve wanted him for a while now too.
But now that you finally have him, you’re not at all sure what the hell you signed up for.
In a flash he’s down on his knees, yanking your panties down with him as he goes. You gasp, shocked by the sudden rush of cool air on your hot core, but that doesn’t stop you from snaking your hands through his hair, spreading your legs a little wider for his ease of access.
When two of his fingers meet the slick heat of your pussy your breath hitches, already overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers on you.
“I wonder,” Hoseok begins eyes concentrated on the dewy pink of your folds as they greedily engulf his digits. “Do you taste just as good down here as you do up there?” His fingers glide up and down your pussy, scissoring your clit between his index and middle finger. So close to where you want him to be but not quite there yet.
However, he doesn’t wait long to give you what you want because all of a sudden his tongue is on you, the flat of his tongue pressing up against your clit as he swipes one long stripe up your sex. You moan wantonly, clutching the hair on top of his head even harder than before.
He groans at your tight grip, inadvertently producing vibrations against you that make you moan louder with pleasure.
“Mm, so much better.” He places several kisses against you, making his way to your aching hole.
You throw your head back when he scissors his tongue into you, a soundless moan leaving your open mouth. You worry when you feel him retract his tongue, but it’s only so he can push two fingers up into you, stretching your hole so he can thrust his tongue deeper into you.
“Fuck,” you whine desperately.
“How’s this? Am I doing okay?” He mirrors your words from earlier, and you’d scold him for teasing you but you can’t, not when he’s lapping at your cunt like it’s his last meal.
“Fuck Hoseok,” you pant, “I can’t
 I need
” He draws back, catching your eyes with his as he mouths at your pussy, “What? Hmm?” Another lick, and you whimper, knees buckling.
“What is it you need?” He whispers darkly.
His gaze is so intense but you’re caught in limbo, wanting to look at him but not being able to with the way your eyes keeping fluttering shut at his ministrations. You cry out when the tip of his tongue flicks hard against your clit, punishment for not having answered him.
“Shit I-I need you.”
He groans, adjusting the pressure against your clit to soft kitten licks, yet the two fingers shoved up your pussy keep a solid rhythm.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Please
” you writhe against the wall, holding tight to his soft locks for leverage.
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Please
” you cry out when he gives a particularly harsh thrust inside you. “M-make me cum.”
He groans, resuming a harsh pace against your core. Everything is wet, his lips sloppy and shiny from a combination of your juices and his saliva. His fingers are relentless, pistoning into you and not letting up until you’re cumming around his digits.
Your orgasm builds in the pits of your stomach, a slow burn that culminates in an explosion of pleasure that has you moaning his name in satisfaction.
“Fucckk. Hoseok, just like that.” You’re a whimpering mess at this point, you’re hips undulating against his tongue as you ride out the last few waves of your high.
He laps up your juices eagerly, not stopping until he’s tasted every part of you. You watch him, satiated, as he gives your cunt a few last licks before he’s rising and capturing your lips in a kiss. You return his kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting yourself on his tongue.
He pulls away from you, smiling endearingly.
“You were so loud.” he comments.
“And who’s fault was that?!” you hit his chest playfully. “You’re lucky the music out there is so loud or else you would have gotten us both kicked out,” you say.
He laughs at your faux outrage. “It would’ve been worth it,” he mutters lowly.
“Mmm,” you hum pressing against him again for another kiss. “Maybe.”
You’re body is molded to his, and you can feel every inch of him against you, including the hard erection pressing against your upper thigh. You snake your hands down his bare chest, past his toned stomach, until one hand is cupping the tent in his pants. He groans lightly. You apply more pressure, gripping him more firmly so that you can feel the outline of him over his clothes. You tug at him lightly.
“Don’t tease.”
Smirking against his lips, you decide to spare him. He’s suffered long enough having to endure being this hard for so long. Determined hands cease their assault on his clothed cock and reach for his belt buckle, undoing the clasps that keep him hidden from your view.
The whole time he watches you with bated breath and lust in his eyes, anxious for you to get your hands on him. Once his pants are undone you tug him close to you by the belt loops, before one hand is reaching into his boxers to feel him. Your hands thread through neatly trimmed pelvic hair before they land on him, full and thick and hard, and he groans.
“Oh god, please please don’t tease.“
You giggle at how desperate he sounds but only squeeze your hand around his shaft harder, taking the time to explore him before you absolutely ruin him. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but there’s enough of him to make you literally salivate at the thought of him fucking you open and taking you raw.
When you get to the tip there’s a bead of pre-cum forming, a patch of his underwear already wet with how much he had been leaking before. You use that to coat the rest of him, the added lubrication making it easier for your hand to glide up and down his shaft.The whole time you observe his reactions, his eyes shut tight in pleasure giving you the freedom to watch him unrestricted.
He gasps when your thumb dips down into his slit, his eyes screwing shut, brow furrowing deeply.
But he doesn’t have long to revel in your touch because all to soon you’re removing your hand from him completely. His eyes shoot open at you, confusion etched across his features. Cute.
You take pity on him, giving his lips a quick peck before you drag the same hand that was just on his cock up to his lips. Tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, you tug down on it until he’s opening his mouth for you. You take this opportunity to stick two fingers into his warm mouth, and he accepts them greedily, sucking and coating your digits in his saliva.
You watch him entranced, and he looks back at you intently, but you pull your fingers back once you feel like they have been sufficiently coated. For good measure, you lick a line up your palm before your hands are back on him again.
This time, when you wrap your hand around him, the glide is much easier due to your dual saliva. Hoseok keels forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder as you stroke his cock.
“Does that feel good?” You ask.
“Yes, yes. God please keep going.” he pants next to your ear.
And you do keep going, if only to coax those cute sounds out of him further. Your hand is moving at a punishing pace, your grip deathly, but you don’t let up even when your arm feels like its going to fall off with the amount of effort you’re exerting.
You want him to cum. You want to make him feel as good as he made you feel just moments prior. And you’re doing a pretty damn good job if his whimpers next to your ear are any indication.
“Fuck, gonna make me cum.” he pants out.
At that declaration, you stroke harder in an effort to get him to cum faster. It’s only when your fingers graze his tip one last time that he is done for, his orgasm hitting him full force and coating your hand in thick ropes of white.
You slow your pace, milking him of all he’s got as he comes down from his high. He slows his breathing beside you, his harsh pants eventually subsiding into even breaths. He pulls back to face you.
“I can’t believe you. You really just made me cum in my pants like a fucking sixteen-year old.” he says, disbelief etched across his face.
You laugh, removing your hand from his underwear. “It’s payback for eating me out so well I couldn’t think straight. You should be thankful it wasn’t my mouth.”
His eyes darken at that, but you quickly shut him down. “Get your head out of the gutter, there’ll be plenty of time for that but right now we need to get cleaned up. The guys are probably wondering where we are.”
“Sorry but you can’t just say stuff like that and not expect me to get excited
 and
 no that’s not helping either.” In the midst of him talking you had brought you’re cum-drenched hand up to your mouth to suck off Hoseok’s seed that hadn’t remained in his pants.
You smile sheepishly but continue cleaning off your hand anyway, too concerned with the taste of him to worry about his growing arousal.
You turn around to wash your hands in the sink there while Hoseok buttons himself back up behind you. You shoot him a smile of gratitude in the mirror when he reaches down and adjusts your dress back over your ass for you.
Drying your hands, you help Hoseok fix the last few strands of his hair that was out of place before you two deem that you are acceptable enough to be seen in public again. And by acceptable you mean: it’s obvious you two hooked up but hey, at least you had the decency to try and cover it up.
Hoseok and you make your way back to you’re little area of the bar to see that Chaeyoung, Jimin, and Taehyung have taken a break from dancing. You don’t even make it all the way there before you see Chaeyoung’s resulting smirk and waggle of her eyebrows at the sight of a disheveled Hoseok and you.
You mouth out a “Shut it” to her and hope she knows how to read lips.
“Where have you two been? We came back and you weren’t here.” Taehyung asks, seemingly none the wiser to you and Hoseok’s whereabouts.
“Dancing Tae, isn’t that what people do at clubs?” you say quickly.
“The horizontal tango maybe,” you catch Chae muttering under her breath and you kick her under the table in retaliation.
Thankfully, that conversation is cut short when Yoongi drops by again, striking up conversation about some drunk asshole he’s debating on whether he should call security on or not.
You try your best to act natural, and so does Hoseok, but a lingering stare from Jimin has you thinking he must be a little more perceptive than Tae (or less drunk). You feel like you can breathe again when he finally relents, attention turned back the animated bartender behind the counter. .
.
.
The next day you are at work, physically, yes, but mentally? Checked out the moment you got here. You’ve been thinking about Hoseok’s mouth on you all day, the pretty sounds he made when he was desperate, the face he pulled when he was orgasming under your-
The phone rings and you’re pulled yet again from your fantasies. It was for the best. You really needed to focus and get back to work.
You pick up the phone, putting on your 'professional voice’ and getting your computer ready to set up an appointment for one of the clients.
You’re not even halfway through you’re greeting when you hear the sound of your best friend on the line.
“Chae?!” You whisper shout, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Why are you calling me at work?!”
“You know why. If you answered you’re texts it wouldn’t have to come to this, now would it?” She whisper-shouts back, letting you know that she’s probably supposed to be working too.
You saw the texts (so many texts) but you had yet to answer her. You didn’t see the point when she had known what happened, you knew what happened, why did she want to coax it out of you so badly?
“ Chae, please. I have shit to do and you can’t call me up at work like this- I’ll talk to you later, bye-” You’re about to hang up when you hear her noises of protest on the other line. You sigh.
“Wait, wait, hold on. At least tell me this
 was it good?”
You let a smile break out onto your face, nodding your head in confirmation.
“Yes.” you leave it at that..
She squeals into the phone and you can hear that she wants to try to weed some more information out of you but you are already saying goodbye. The last thing you need is your friend thinking she’s some kind of matchmaker.
You go on about your day more focused this time, thankfully. But the excitement of the morning returns when you get a text message around noon.
Hoseok: hey :)
You: hi
Hoseok: how are you?
You: I’m swell, doing absolutely wonderful on this fine day. And you good sir?
Hoseok: haha, very funny
You: Lol, how are you gonna ask ‘how am I’ when you literally ate me out like you did last night. You should already know. 
Hoseok: I didn’t think it’d be polite to tell you right off the bat that I’m still thinking of your taste on my tongue. Since this morning actually
Well that shuts you up momentarily.
Hoseok: What’s wrong? No more jokes?
You: Some of us are at work you know
Hoseok: I’m at work. Teaching a group of 10 year olds right now. Doesn’t mean I’m not imagining bending you over and fucking you into the mirror of my studio
It takes you a while to respond because that is certainly something you’ve imagined before
You: Gross. Such dirty thoughts in front of the kids?
Hoseok: Relax, their on water break rn
You: Still
Hoseok: Anyway, I wanted to ask you something
You: Shoot
A few minutes pass where you see those same three dots appear and disappear, as if their mocking you.
Hoseok: my sister’s having her wedding rehearsal is coming up. I was wondering if you could come with me
Hoseok: I’m not forcing you, or anything! I could just really use someone there with me to take get my relatives off my back. If they see I’m with someone they’re less likely to hound me
Hoseok: And not 'with someone’ like that! As friends, I mean.
He’s inviting you to a family event?
You: Can’t you take Jimin or one of your other friends with you?
Those three dots appear and disappear for a few seconds but it takes significantly less time for him to respond this time.
Hoseok: Can’t. Jimin gets motion sickness, Jungkook’s busy with school and Seokjin would just be a mistake. You’re my last hope. Please.
He sends the puppy-dog face emoji and you are a goner.
You: Fine, when is it?
Hoseok: Really? Great, thank you so much.
Hoseok: And it’s this Saturday but we have to head up there a couple days early, so maybe Thursday night?
You: I’m using my sick time for this so it better be worth it
Hoseok: It will be. I’ll make it up to you I promise ;)
You don’t respond after that because you really do have to get back to work now. You two have been friends for a couple months now and now you’re meeting his family. As friends, you remind yourself.
This whole one-eighty in your relationship with Hoseok had been nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Right? Is that what you wanted? Yes. Maybe. It could be? You weren’t sure.
The only thing you were certain about right now is that you had to go home and start packing for a weekend trip away to meet your friend’s (with benefits) parents.
It was going to be an eventful three days you’d come to find out.
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elletromil · 6 years
Text
Whatever it is we fell into
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @bouncybrittonie!!!! This is the first of your gift today, at least from me, and it’ll be the first of many more! You are amazing doll and you deserve the absolute best! I hope you’ll have plenty of fun today and that you’ll get to be with all the people you love!
Now for this fic, it is completely self-indulgent. Or well Brittonie-indulgent, but what you love is what I love so yeah :D It’s clichĂ©, it’s fluffy, it’s got to do with misunderstandings and a wedding... All good things!
The idea was first plot-bunnied with @insanereddragon when we discussed the idea of a fic where Tequila and Ginger would have made a pact to get married together if by a certain age they both weren’t in a relationship yet. You know, the usual pact you make with your friend you are totally not falling in love with. Then a couple ago I was talking about the idea with Britt and well, I decided that even if I didn’t think I could write the whole thing, nothing was stopping me from writing the important bit ;D Might even inspire me to write to whole plot bunny at one point
Whatever it is we fell into
Laughter echoes down the corridor as Jason makes his way to the lab, intent on having lunch with Ginger before tradition dictates they cannot see each other until they are standing in church, waiting to be wed.
As always, the thought of finally being married to his best friend, the same woman he’s fallen in love with over the years, gives him a thrill. Sure, if they are getting married tomorrow it’s all because of that pact they made ten years ago so that neither of them would die sad loners, but he knows they’ll have something good nevertheless.
In fact, they already do. He doesn’t need any more than what she’s already giving him to be perfectly happy. And while she might not be in love with him, he’s sure he can treat her right, that he can make her happy.
That certainty is shaken however when he gets to the lab’s threshold and sees her hugging Merlin. Clinging to him really.
He had noticed of course how close the two had grown in the last few weeks, but it takes him seeing them in each other arms to realise that this is not simply friendship.
Another man would be jealous.
He’s just devastated.
Not because Ginger fell in love with someone who isn’t him. He’s accepted long ago he had no claim on her heart.
No, what hurts the most is the thought she’s been too honorable to go back on their promise after they’ve started planning the wedding. That she thinks he would rather be married to her and have her miss out on her chance at true happiness rather than be alone but knowing she was with the man she loves.
As if he wouldn’t have understood her breaking off their engagement now that she has found someone to spent the rest of her life with.
It would have hurt yes. It does hurt.
But Jason is not selfish.
Their arrangement was always meant to be a last resort.
Ginger doesn’t need it anymore.
He leaves before they break off their embrace, before they can notice him.
*
There is an incessant knocking on her bedroom door at HQ and if the butterflies in her stomach hadn’t been keeping her awake, she would be mad about it.
But she’s been turning and tossing for the past couple of hours, incapable of falling asleep knowing that at the same time tomorrow, she would have been married to Jason for a few hours already.
It might only be due to a drunken pact they made a decade ago, but since they’ve started planning for it, since they’ve told all their friends and family to save the date, she can’t deny it’s more than that for her. It’s not just marrying her best friend because they’re both sad loners. No, it’s marrying the man she’s been falling in love with for years and working at their common happiness.
She knows of course that Jason isn’t in love with her, but that’s okay. They can still make it work. If Jason didn’t really want this, he would have called it off already. But he hadn’t and there are worse fates than getting the perfect excuse to spoil and cherish the man who unknowingly holds her heart.
Compared to Merlin, forgotten on the sidelines while the two men he loves are finding their happiness together, her lot is a true blessing.
She finally leaves her bed to go open up her door since ignoring whoever is at her door isn’t discouraging them. With any luck, the distraction will help her find sleep afterwards.
She’s got the door half open when the person on the other side finally talks and she slams it shut again in a panic as soon as she recognizes the voice.
“Jason! What the actual fuck? You know it’s bad luck for us to see each other tonight!”
It’s a ridiculous superstition, she’s perfectly aware of it, especially considering they’re not marrying out of love, but it’s stronger than her. They’ve committed to this now and she’ll be damned if she gives Jason any reason to regret it.
Except, she’s not the one at his door right now.
Jason’sthe one coming to her in the dead of the night. And he’s the one who is usually superstitious just because he’d rather be safe than sorry.
Her heart clenches painfully when she understands what this must be.
He’s finally come to his senses.
He’s backing out of his promise.
She wants to be angry, but she can’t.
If Jason finally figured out he doesn’t want this wedding after all, even if he’s been reassuring her for months that he really wants it, she’s not about to keep him trapped.
It hurts, but it’s better if it happens now rather than a few months down the line.
She can save face now somehow, pretend they called it off together, that they both realised they were better off as just friends.
She’s about to open the door to let him in so they can discuss it like adults when he starts talking again. His voice is muffled by the door between them, but even then, she can hear the difference in his tone, the sad edge to it.
“I- I can’t go through with it Ginger, I’m sorry.” She wants to tell him that it’s okay, but even though she’s figured it out, she isn’t ready for it. The wings of the butterflies in her stomach have turn to sharp steel and it makes it hard to breath. “ I can’t do this to you Ginger. I can’t keep you from the one you love
”
“What?” Her voice breaks on the word but Jason still hears her, a sad chuckle his only answer at first.
“I’m not blind
 Well, not anymore. And you might not have realised it yet, but I don’t want to stand in your way when you do
 It’d make me a very shitty friend.”
“Jason, I have absolutely no clue what you’re going on about.”
If it was anyone else, she would accuse him of shifting the blame on her, but it’s Jason. He has his flaws like everyone else yes, but he always owns up to his actions, always takes responsibilities for his choices.
“I’ve seen you with Merlin
 And seriously, it makes sense, you’re perfect for each other. He’ll- He’ll treat you right. Our pact was only if we hadn’t found anyone by now. I can’t hold you to it now that you obviously did. I- I love you too much for that and I can’t bear the thought of you ending up resenting me. Hating me.”
She’s stunned speechless for a long time.
At first, because she cannot understand how anyone can think that her and Merlin are anything more than friends. That is, until Jason says he- until he says that he loves her and it could be as a friend, but there’s simply too much yearning for it to be anything but romantic.
However, even if she’s certain of what she heard, she still cannot believe it. Like Harry is wont to say, it’s not that kind of movie. At least her life has never been.
It would be ridiculous for it to suddenly change.
“Giner? I- Please, don’t hate me. Nothing has to change, I just want you happy, that’s all. I’m still your friend.”
How she forgets time after time that Jason is insecure when he’s not on a mission, when he’s not hiding behind Agent Tequila’s personality, she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because it’s been years since Jason has felt anything but comfortable in her presence. She hates that it’s changed now.
Hates that there’s nothing she can do about it tonight.
“Damn you Jason! Why did you have to tell me tonight? Now I can’t get out and kiss you, you stupid shit!”
Insulting him is probably not the wisest way to let him know she reciprocates, but she can’t help it.
Right now, she wants to kiss him, she wants to hug him, to simply be close to him.
But she also very much wants to marry him tomorrow and she isn’t risking their happiness for anything in the world. Not now, not ever again.
“Ginger?”
“I love you too, you dumbass. And you are blind for not figuring out that Merlin is pinning after Harry and Eggsy. I like him fine, but I have too much self-respect to be someone’s third-best. And anyway, I love your stupid ass too much to get with anyone else.” It’s like a dam has been broken now that she knows that Jason loves her back and she cannot stop saying it back.
“You mean that
 You really mean that.”
“Of course I do.”
“Can I- can I hold your hand?”
She would have to open the door for that, but she trusts him not to try and sneak a peek.
As soon as the gap is wide enough, Jason slides his hand through and Ginger grabs it and links their fingers together.
With the door between them, it’s awkward and uncomfortable, but the sun is starting to rise when they finally let go, but not before Ginger presses a kiss against his knuckles.
“Meet you down the aisle?”
“I’d like to see anyone try and stop me.”
She pities the poor soul that would dare attempt to ruin their day.
*
“You can now kiss the bride.”
Their lips meet and it’s electric. Jason bends her back like the show off that he is and Ginger laughs into their first kiss, while all their friends and family applaud and cheer.
She cannot remember the last time she’s ever been so happy and it’s made all the sweeter because she’s sharing this with Jason.
They’re both giddy with love and happiness and when she throws her bouquet into the crowd before the dancing starts at the reception, it’s with the wish that whoever catches it gets their happy ending too.
Later on, when she sees Merlin slow dancing with both Harry and Eggsy at the same time, she knows her wish has been granted.
Maybe there’s really something to superstitions after all.
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