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Take my hand (I'll teach you to dance)

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‘Dance with me.’

Namjoon looks up from his empty plate. Hoseok’s hand is outstretched in an inviting gesture, his fingers relaxed, throwing long flickering shadows over the table.


Hoseok looks down to him with a smile, and god damn, Namjoon doesn’t understand how after three months of flirting and six months of dating it still makes his heart do a somersault when Hoseok smiles like that.

‘I like this song. Always have. I wanna dance with you.’

And Hoseok’s practically dancing already, not even moving a whole lot but his body is falling into the rhythm so naturally that he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it, his hips swaying to the melody of the song, like the music flows through him in liquid form.

Namjoon’s always found it fascinating how people do that; because no matter how much his mind understands music and knows rhythms and keys and melodies and harmonies, he could never get his body to move to it without looking awkward and out of place. He’s always found it fascinating, and on Hoseok it’s even more than that – it’s mesmerising, enthralling, hypnotising.

It’s beautiful. Just like everything about Hoseok. Beautiful, amazing Hoseok.

‘But I can’t dance,’ Namjoon mumbles. Hoseok’s body is fluid, flexible, and Namjoon’s nowhere near any of those things.

‘Everyone can dance,’ Hoseok says. ‘It’s just moving to music.’

Namjoon shakes his head. ‘I can’t dance,’ he repeats.

‘It’s not fucking rocket science, Joon-ah. Just dance with me, c’mon.’

Hoseok stretches his hand forward for emphasis, raising his eyebrows, waiting for Namjoon to accept.

‘But I really can’t dance...’ Namjoon mutters weakly.

‘I really don’t care,’ Hoseok says flatly, and takes Namjoon’s hand to link their fingers together, tugging lightly at his arm. ‘I’ll teach you.’

Namjoon still wants to say no. Namjoon should say no, because god, this will probably end in a disaster. Namjoon should say no because he’s always been convinced that knowing yourself is the start of all wisdom and he’s very aware that he’s awkward and clumsy and his limbs are just slightly too long for any kind of elegance. Namjoon should say no because he can’t dance for shit and he’ll probably end up with his exceptionally large feet on Hoseok’s toes or his elbow in his face or the entire house on fire (he doesn’t know how, but he’s sure he can make it happen if he starts dancing). Namjoon will definitely say no.

Hoseok smiles at him.

‘Alright,' Namjoon says.



Okay, he thinks as he lets Hoseok pull him along to the little open space between his couch and his dinner table. Apparently his mouth didn't quite pick up the signal of his brain, or maybe the signal sort of shifted midway. Whatever it was, Namjoon's actually on his feet and about to dance. Kim Namjoon, dancing. If he told anyone, they’d probably laugh at him. He can practically hear Yoongi’s Daegu drawl telling him how god damn whipped he is.

But one look at Hoseok’s face, smile shining bright on his lips, and Namjoon honestly doesn’t even care if he’s whipped. Even if that means dancing. It can’t be that hard, right? Namjoon’s pretty sure he’s seen people do this in movies. Romantic dancing, like, uh, holding hands and moving and stuff. Hoseok’s already loosening his grip on Namjoon’s right hand and holding out his own, so, good. Hoseok puts his right hand into Namjoon’s left one and, okay, part one seems to have gone smoothly.

What was part two again?

‘Namjoon,’ Hoseok smiles after a moment. ‘You’re gonna need to get a lot closer.’


Hoseok shakes his head at the floor, as if he's judging the distance between them. ‘Come closer.’

‘Right,’ Namjoon breathes out with a nervous chuckle, and slowly shuffles closer to Hoseok.

Hoseok huffs out a little laugh. ‘Are you afraid of me? Come here,’ he grins as he puts his hand around Namjoon’s waist and pulls him closer until their chests are flush together.

Which also incidentally brings their faces really close together and God, Namjoon could count Hoseok’s eyelashes from here. He could count the lighter, golden specks in Hoseok’s eyes and the little smiley wrinkles around them because he’s still smiling that beautiful smile and Namjoon actually really wants to kiss it, but he can’t seem to tear himself away from just staring at Hoseok’s face.

Namjoon presses his forehead against Hoseok's just as Hoseok’s hand slides down Namjoon’s arm and grabs the back of his hand, guiding it to his own hip.

‘Keep your hand there,’ Hoseok whispers, squeezing it lightly before letting go and putting his own hand around Namjoon’s back. His breath feels warm against Namjoon’s lips and he smells like that blue bottle of aftershave he always uses and the vague citrus scent of his shampoo, and Namjoon’s pretty sure he can feel Hoseok’s heartbeat through two layers of clothes.

‘And now?’ Namjoon asks quietly, and Hoseok laughs again, sending another warm breath over Namjoon’s face.

‘Now we dance,’ Hoseok whispers. ‘Relax.’

Namjoon’s pretty sure relaxing isn’t on the list of things he’s doing when Hoseok moves his feet. Between trying to follow the movements, anticipating the next, trying not to step on Hoseok’s feet, trying to listen to the music and somehow move to the rhythm, and trying to not get too distracted by Hoseok’s warm hand on his back or Hoseok’s hair tickling his forehead, relaxing is pretty hard to do.

He’s pretty sure his heart is beating too fast to be relaxing anyway.

‘You’re so tense,’ Hoseok says, dipping his head down to rest his forehead into the crook of Namjoon’s neck. ‘Let go, Joon-ah. Stop overthinking.’

‘Easy for you to say,’ Namjoon mumbles, and he feels Hoseok’s smile against his skin.

‘Okay, how about this,’ Hoseok says, his voice barely above a whisper, halting his movements and pulling away from Namjoon just slightly. ‘Close your eyes.’

Namjoon gives him an incredulous look. He’s already thinking too much, he’s already so damn scared he’ll ruin this entire thing by being his clumsy self, and now Hoseok wants him to do all that without looking?

Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

‘Why would I –‘

‘Just do it, Joon-ah,’ Hoseok says, squeezing Namjoon’s hand just a little harder and pushing himself closer to Namjoon’s chest again. ‘Trust me.’

Namjoon sighs, adjusts his hold on Hoseok’s hip, and closes his eyes. God damn whipped.

‘And now?’ he asks.

‘Relax your shoulders. Listen to the music,’ Hoseok mumbles right beneath his ear, and moves his right foot, turning his hip. Namjoon follows without thinking, relieved when he feels carpet beneath his foot instead of Hoseok’s shoe.

‘Good. Concentrate on me,’ Hoseok whispers, as if there's anything else Namjoon could be concentrating on when Hoseok's as close as he is, his thumb rubbing the small of Namjoon's back in little, even circles, his head snuggled into Namjoon's neck, his hip pressed firmly against Namjoon's own.

It starts out with careful, unsure steps, but somehow Namjoon manages to find some kind of order in them, a pattern he can follow, guided by Hoseok’s little nudges. This isn’t half as bad as he thought it was, actually.

It's right then that Namjoon notices the vibrations against the skin of his neck, and the low sound coming from somewhere within Hoseok's chest.

He's humming along to the song. He's humming along and guiding Namjoon through the rhythm and it's sweet, it's so sweet and so Hoseok, god, Namjoon could just stay here and listen to him and hold him forever. Hoseok lets out the tiniest little sigh of contentment and his head moves a bit against Namjoon’s shoulder, and Namjoon imagines Hoseok has that little happy smile curved around his lips right now. The one that make his eyes crinkle just the tiniest bit and his right dimple pop up a bit more prominent than the left, and he just can’t help himself. Opening his eyes is probably a bad idea – he’s just getting the hang of this whole dancing thing – but he wants to see Hoseok like this, wants to imprint every little thing about Hoseok into his brain and never forget it.

Just as Namjoon pulls his head back just the tiniest bit to watch Hoseok’s face – he looks calm, peaceful almost, and –  Hoseok puts his foot forward and Namjoon doesn’t put his foot backward. He doesn’t put his foot backward even though he was supposed to and shit –

His ass hits the floor rather harshly, and Hoseok’s weight landing right on him pushes him further backwards – his head hits the floor rather harshly too, and he can practically already feel the spot where Hoseok’s knee hit his thigh turn blue. Instinctively, his hand shoots up to rub at the sore spot on the back of his head and a muttered curse escapes him as he hits his hand on the coffee table mid-air, on top of everything else.

He messed it up. Good going, Kim Namjoon. Now they’re both on the floor and Hoseok is probably–

Wait, no. Hoseok is giggling.

He’s right on top of Namjoon, their legs tangled together, Namjoon’s one arm still slung around his back, and he’s shaking with laughter against Namjoon’s chest, the sound he makes just a bit ungraceful and just slightly too loud, which should really not be as cute as it is.

‘Namjoon,’ Hoseok gets out in between giggles, ‘You absolute idiot.’

‘Told you I can’t dance,’ Namjoon chuckles, rubbing the painful spot on his head. Hoseok tilts his head a little, a small frown appearing between his brows.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, fine. Sorry about that.’

Hoseok lowers his head, nudging Namjoon’s nose with his own. ‘S’alright,’ he smiles, and presses a feather-light kiss to Namjoon’s lips that makes Namjoon’s stomach flutter. ‘You weren’t that bad.’

‘I fell on my ass, Hoseok ah.’

‘Yeah, I know, I was there,’ Hoseok laughs. ‘But the part before that. You were doing great.’

Namjoon’s sure his cheeks are flushing pink with the way Hoseok’s looking at him, his head slightly tilted and his eyes so soft, glimmering in the dim light of Hoseok’s living room. He wraps his arm a little tighter around Hoseok’s waist, feeling Hoseok's heartbeat against his hand, a bit fast - because of the laughing, or the falling, or maybe entirely something else, Namjoon doesn't know. Honestly, he could get used to this – Hoseok’s weight on top of him has something comforting, the warmth of his skin is quite enjoyable, and he finds himself hoping the smell of Hoseok’s blue bottle of aftershave lingers on his skin.

‘You’re staring,’ Hoseok notes.

‘Your face is three centimetres away from mine,’ Namjoon counters. ‘I can’t not be staring.’

Hoseok’s grin grows wider. ‘Fair point.’

‘On top of that,’ Namjoon adds, ‘I mean, you’re kinda nice to look at.’

Namjoon gives him a cheesy, exaggerated smile, and Hoseok scrunches his nose. ‘You’re being gross.’

‘You love me.’

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok grins. ‘Yeah, I kinda do.’