Jimin loved teaching people how to dance. Some days, he loved it more than dancing itself. It was always delightful to watch someone who swore they could never dance, smile joyfully as they moved their body to the rhythm of a song.

Jimin loved dancing and loved sharing his passion with others. He hoped more people would give dancing a try, because he knew how freeing it was to turn up the music after an exhausting day and just let your body take over. No thoughts, just rhythm.

Jimin loved teaching how to dance, but he was hating his job right now.

“You keep stepping on my foot!” Son Yejin, Jimin’s new client reprimanded his dance partner, not for the first time in the last hour.

“Sorry, darling, I’m trying not to.” Min Yoongi, the aforementioned dance partner, apologized, his face the definition of misery.

“Well, try harder. You’ll embarrass me at my wedding.”

Jimin cringed.

His new clients were a soon-to-be married couple who decided to take dance classes for their first waltz. Son Yejin was a beautiful woman, with long luscious black hair, almost often decorated with a white ribbon. Son Yejin wore expensive clothes to their lessons, perfectly matching her fiancée, Min Yoongi—a handsome man with deep black hair, deep voice and even deeper eyes.

Jimin adored teaching couples because he lived precariously through their love lives since he was horribly single.

It was a favorite pass time of his to ask couples how they met, what their first date was, who said ‘I love you’ first and all the little details in between. He sighed dreamily every time the couple shyly smiled at each other when their bodies found each other in the middle of a choreography. He couldn’t help but scream ‘God when will it be my turn’ in his head whenever couples kissed at the end of a waltz, completely lost in the moment after dancing with their loved one.

But this couple? They made Jimin question if love was even real.

“And don’t call me darling. You know I hate endearment terms when I’m angry.” Yejin snapped and his fiancé looked to the ground, like a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Yeah, Jimin loved to know about couples love stories, but his new clients were painfully unromantic that it almost made him feel good about being single.

When he asked how they met during their first lesson, Yoongi had smiled softly, his gummy smile appearing for the first time. “I’m a pianist, and I was working at a restaurant when I saw her with her family. I fell in love at first sight.”

Jimin had melted on the spot. It was literally his dream.

A dancer needed a musician.

But Yejin? She didn’t seem to agree. She’d rolled her eyes and waved off Yoongi’s words.

“He came to our table and introduced himself. I was so mortified. My dad would never let me date a musician; it leads to nowhere. Thankfully, Yoongi agreed to join my dad’s company after a while, or we wouldn’t even be here.”

Jimin loathed Tuesdays and Thursdays now, because he had to deal with the “hell couple” as he called them.

“Are we starting from the top, teacher Park?” Yejin demanded, hands on her hips, tapping her heel on the ground impatiently. She was wearing high heels that probably cost more than Jimin’s studio rent— heels Jimin despised because she didn’t know how to dance with them properly.

Jimin didn’t hate a lot of people. It was a waste of time to do it, but he seriously despised Son Yejin.

“Yes, let’s get in position. Alright?”

“Let’s hope my fiancé remembers his, this time.” She noted and Jimin gritted his teeth, like he always did when she talked to her boyfriend that way.

Min Yoongi said nothing, and quietly assumed his position across from his soon-to-be bride. He was wearing black smart slacks and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His outfit had been an idea by Jimin on their first session because he wanted him to get used to dancing in a restrictive suit since he was going to do it like that during their wedding. He never managed to have Yejin wear crinoline in their practices though.

Jimin started the music and began counting to guide the couple in their steps.

He created a lovely routine, under Son Yejin’s father’s order. He admitted that it might have been one of his best work so far. It was a shame it was wasted on the hell couple.

The thing was that it wasn’t the groom’s fault. He was a decent dancer—stiff and slow at first, but he was clearly trying, and it showed in the progress he made each week. And more than anything, he looked in love.

There was a part at the beginning of the choreography where they touched foreheads, and Yoongi would look at Yejin the way any romantic writer would describe what love feels like. And she-

“His arm is not in a ninety-degree angle.” She complained scrutinizing her fiancé’s arm behind his back.

“Sorry.” He said, his face turning red and she took a step back, breaking formation again.

“A sorry doesn’t solve shit, you know that right?”

Jimin had enough. Three miserable weeks managed to finally break him. Him! Who never raised his voice, not even when playing Mario Kart with his best friend Taehyung.

“If you keep stopping, we are never going to complete this dance.” Jimin lectured her.

“I stop because he keeps making mistakes.”

“I’m so-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Jimin interrupted, raising a hand in front of the woman as if that way he could stop her words, but he was looking at Yoongi. “You didn’t make a mistake, she actually missed a step at the beginning, so you rushed to meet her, didn’t you? It didn’t give you time to position your arm correctly.”

Yoongi’s jaw slacked open, his eyes opened and focused on Jimin, almost like he was seeing the teacher for the first time. Jimin found himself liking the attention. Yoongi’s eyes were sincere, the type of eyes that took their time to understand the world around.

“I did not make a mistake.” Yejin whined and Jimin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He preferred to look at Min Yoongi than facing her, but he had to. He turned towards the woman.

“You did. And it wasn’t your first mistake either. Let me show you the correct way.”

He walked to the middle of the dance floor and took place in the position Yejin should start, forcing her to stand to a side. Yoongi looked confused only for two seconds, his eyes switching from Jimin to Yejin, before adopting his first position, bending his arm behind his back standing straight.

“From the top.” Jimin indicated and pressed play to the music from his watch.

The music started and Jimin began walking towards the groom, his hands floating next to his hips simulating the big dress Yejin was supposed to wear on the wedding. When they met at the center Yoongi hesitated, only for a second before grabbing Jimin’s head between his palms, connecting their foreheads. Jimin had designed the beginning of the dance that way because couples were often nervous when dancing in front of people for the first time. The gesture was supposed to be a moment for the couple to ground into each other. A safe heaven.

Yoongi smelled nice, Jimin noticed. He smelled strongly of pine and oranges, like a night in an orchard. He smelled like Jimin’s grandfather’s house on the outskirts. He smelled safe.

Jimin let himself float, forgetting about the hell bride, daydreaming he was dancing with a pianist he met during a family dinner. A pianist who was in love with him, who composed music for his recitals. He could let himself daydream, just one time.

“One-Two-Three, One-Two-Three.” Jimin guided although it was unnecessary because Yoongi knew the steps perfectly. “Here, you missed Two.” Jimin said to the bride, performing the dance correctly. “And look at that, I gave Yoongi-ssi time to meet me in the center and his arm is nice and bent.”

“Thank you.” The groom smiled looking at the floor and Jimin felt tingles where their hands touched. Yoongi’s hands were bigger engulfing Jimin’s. Every inch of this man screamed safe.

Yoongi twirled Jimin and his grip was soft, delicately holding his hand before grasping firmly to start their turning box. Jimin kept counting, while moving around the floor with Yoongi as if they were satellites attracted to each other’s orbit.

Yoongi’s arm was under Jimin’s, firm enough to give him the support he needed. Jimin was amazed by how comfortable the man felt dancing with Jimin. He usually tended to avoid dancing directly with grooms because they never liked dancing with another man, content giving them directions from away or through their partners, but Yoongi didn’t seem to be repulsed by the proximity.

Before doing an underarm turn, Jimin talked to Yejin again.

“Here, you return to him at three, not at four, you should not open yourself more because you’ll end up pulling him with you and messing up the steps.” He let her know, knowing she had messed up this part in the past, blaming Yoongi. “It’s a couple dance. The two of you have to work together.”

“Yes, and he is not doing it.” She said and took heavy steps to the speaker sitting above the brown grand piano at the corner and turned the music off.

Yoongi let go of Jimin immediately, his attention directed to his bride-to-be. Jimin didn’t blame him, he would love to have a partner who dropped anything to pay him attention the way Yoongi did with Yejin. Although she didn’t deserve it. Or maybe she did. He didn’t know her, maybe she acted the way she did because of the stress of the wedding.

“I’m done. I’m not here to be lectured by an amateur dancer.” She claimed and went to get her purse, taking out designer sunglasses from it to cover her eyes.

“Amateur?” Jimin was seeing red. Fuck wedding stress.

Hell bride? He was in front of Satan herself.

“Darling?”

“Don’t call me that!” she screamed, and Yoongi took a step back. “I’m going to go now, because I don’t need this class like he does. I have to pick the flowers for the venue and my mom will take me to try cakes.”

“We were going to do the tasting together.”

“You cannot eat cake; you need to lose weight.” She said scrunching her nose and Jimin noticed Yoongi clenching his hand.

“I will.”

Jimin couldn’t talk for Yoongi, because he didn’t know him that well even if every nerve of his body was screaming at him to defend him. But he could talk for himself.

“Miss Son,” he began, his voice tight with anger “I don’t know who you are calling an amateur, but you should know I have a degree in modern dance, and I danced professionally before getting my own pl-”

“And yet you cannot make him dance like he is supposed to.” She interrupted him, pointing at her boyfriend. “Do the job my dad paid you to do and make him dance decently the day of my wedding.”

“Miss Son. You need to learn the dance too or—”

“I know the dance! I’m not an idiot.” She huffed, throwing her long black hair over her shoulder. “Don’t mess it up.” She said one last time towards Yoongi’s direction and then she stormed out of the dance studio.

“Our.” Yoongi said and Jimin turned to him.

The man looked devastated; his eyes glossy with fresh tears threating to cascade. Jimin felt his heart break. How did this soft and gentle soul end up with the daughter of Satan?

“What’s that?” He asked him, giving him a tissue that Yoongi took shaking.

“She said, ‘my wedding’, but it’s our wedding.” He said, his bottom lip trembling. “She keeps saying ‘My’. I know weddings are more important for the woman but, it’s my day too, you know?”

“Oh, honey.” Jimin said, letting the pet name out without meaning to and that’s when Yoongi broke down.

The tears ran freely across the groom’s cheeks, and he covered his face with both hands, shaking with every silent sob. Jimin was at lost, he didn’t know the man to know if he would want any physical comfort, and he was never good with words when someone cried. He wasn’t the boyfriend his daydream made him believe, this was a real and sad human he barely knew.

“Fuck. I’m so embarrassing.” Yoongi said, his voice frail and low. “You are not getting paid to deal with a useless guy.”

“You’re not useless.” That, he could say. “You’re doing a good job actually, for someone who had never danced, you grasped the choreo really quickly.”

“Yejin doesn’t think the same.” He said, still covering his face, but his shoulders weren’t shaking anymore, so he was calming down.

‘She is an idiot’ Jimin wanted to say, instead he decided to be professional. He had a reputation to maintain. “She is not a professional dancer like I am. Trust my words, not hers.”

Finally, Yoongi lowered his hands and looked at Jimin. His face was puffy, his eyes and nose red, but his look was focused. Jimin always liked Yoongi’s eyes, attracted to the deep black and his attentive gaze. He was afraid of falling in the hypnotic stare. That wouldn’t be professional.

He cleared his throat and broke their eye contact.

“Thank you, teacher Park.” Yoongi said, trying and failing to smile at him.

God, why were cute guys like him attracted to literal psychopaths? Jimin really felt bad for some heterosexuals. If Yoongi was his- no, he couldn’t entertain that thought, it was bad enough he let himself daydream during their dance.

“Don’t mention it.” Yoongi nodded.

None of them talked again, and for some seconds it was awkward. The studio suddenly felt empty without the suffocating presence of Yejin. The two men were just standing in front of each other, one clearly in an emotional crisis and the other hopeless on how to help.

‘What do I do if I feel sad?’ Jimin thought to himself, for some reason wanting to comfort the man in front of him. Wanting to be an anchor. To be his safe place as well.

Then he thought of something.

“Do you want to go out dancing?”

“What?”

“There’s a nice club I go to, it has great music and better drinks. I think you deserve a night out.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Yoongi frowned, looking at the tissue in his hands. “I don’t want to leave Yejin alone tonight.”

“You’ll be back to her.” Jimin tried to persuade him, for some reason not liking the idea of this gentle soul living in the same house as Satan. “And besides, we will do what she asked. I’ll teach you to dance, and you’ll realize you’re better than you think. I feel a change of scenery will be good for you.”

Away from bridezilla, he thought to himself.

Dancing in a room with strangers, where no one cared if he was moving to the rhythm always made him feel better. He was hoping the sensation would help Yoongi as well.

Yoongi thought about it for some moment, his eyes lost in contemplation, stuck to the door where his fiancé disappeared, and then he nodded reaching a decision.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

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The club was not a popular place and maybe that was the reason Jimin liked it so much. The dance floor was never full, and that meant there was always space for him to dance comfortably, without worrying about hitting someone with his elbow. Or getting splashed by someone’s beer. That last happened more than one time in different bars.

Another benefit was that there were always available booths.

“Here, you need it.” Jimin said to Yoongi sliding a glass of whiskey in front of him in the table.

“Oh, thank you.” The groom accepted the drink but didn’t sip on it. “Is it whiskey?”

“You look like a whiskey type of man.” Jimin smirked, sipping his own drink. Plain beer. “Forgive me if I’m wrong though.”

“You’re not.” Yoongi twirled the liquid on his glass. “How do I look like a whiskey type?”

‘Because you smell safe’ Jimin wanted to say, and the warmth of whiskey burning his chest always felt safe to him. Because he probably needed something strong for dealing with hell bride. Because the boyfriend of his daydreams drank whiskey before bringing Jimin to his lap.

“I’m just good like this.” Jimin shrugged instead, Yoongi looked at him as if he wanted to say something to that, but ended up just shaking his head, bringing the glass to his lips.

The music wasn’t loud where they were seated, in any other circumstance Jimin would complain the building was poorly designed, since the music didn’t reach all corners, but in a moment like this, Jimin appreciated the bad acoustic of the place. He wanted to be able to hear Yoongi and have a good conversation.

Jimin was a gossip, always trying to learn about what people’s lives were like. He was terribly interested in Yoongi’s life, thinking over and over about how did he ended up proposing to a girl like Yejin. Maybe Yoongi didn’t want to talk about it, but Jimin wanted to try.

“So, is it appropriate for me to ask about your soon-to-be wife?”

Yoongi cringed, his mouth rising to the side in distaste. But it wasn’t a No. Jimin probed more.

“Forgive my indiscretion, but you two doesn’t seem to be very …lovey dovey, to be marrying soon.” He had worse words, about the future bride, but he didn’t want to tell him that.

“We must look like a horrible couple, don’t we?”

“I’ve seen better.”

“You’ve seen us twice a week for a month now, there’s no need to be cautious with your words. Please, tell me what you think. It’ll be welcoming to hear the opinion of someone who isn’t entirely related to us.”

Yoongi’s voice was low and deep, it was a shame he didn’t talk much during their practices. Jimin could hear him talk all night, he feared. He chugged more of his beer.

"I really like teaching couples to dance." Jimin started, trying to explain what he meant without being brutally honest. "It’s exciting to see them smile while dancing. More than once, they forget about the choreography because they are looking into each other"s eyes." Jimin laughed recalling his previous clients. "They almost always end up kissing at the end of the dance, without me telling them to."

Jimin watched Yoongi turn his gaze to the drink in his hand and felt sorry for him.

"The reason I like to dance is because it"s a way to express my feelings without having to use my words. Because I"m not good with words."

"You seem very articulate to me when you speak." Yoongi said without seeing him. Jimin would like him to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you, although I am not like that all the time. But when I dance, I become Shakespeare."

Yoongi was smiling, and his smile was the fuel Jimin needed to continue talking. He didn"t know what he could achieve with the conversation, but if his words managed to help the future boyfriend clear up any doubts he had, then maybe it would be worth it.

"Couples communicate through dancing as well. The delicacy in which they hold their hands is the delicacy with which they treat each other." Jimin continued. "The way they look into each other"s eyes is irrevocable proof that they can"t help but admire each other." Jimin closed his eyes for a moment, imagining an imaginary boyfriend connecting with him during a dance. "In the dance, they show the love they have for each other, even if there are people watching because at that moment only the two of them exist for each other."

" Yejin doesn"t look me in the eye." Yoongi said and Jimin opened his eyes to see him. The groom continued staring at his glass of whiskey, but something told Jimin that he was seeing something else.

"No. She doesn"t." The professor said with a grimace. He could lie, but he wouldn’t offend Yoongi’s intellect.

"Nor does she take my hands gently."

"No." Jimin agreed, softly.

The black-haired man raised his head and now he connected his gaze with the dance teacher.

"She scolded me the other day when I tried to kiss her at the end of our class."

Jimin didn"t have to agree with him, they both knew what had happened in the classes. Both were there.

"I-." Jimin cleared his throat and continued. "I don"t want to get involved in other people"s personal affairs. Of course, I don"t know you, and I don"t know what you may be going through in your lives. But, through the small window I have towards your lives, to me you don"t seem to be very in love to decide to be together for the rest of your lives."

Or at least I didn"t see that Yejin was in love, Jimin thought. About Yoongi, Jimin had the hunch that he was fully in love with his girlfriend. That"s why Jimin was careful bringing up the subject. He knew what it was like to experience a broken heart.

"I may be completely wrong and-."

"I wrote a song, so we could dance to it at the wedding." Yoongi interrupted him, and Jimin was silent. "I mean, I wrote a song on the piano, arranged the melody, and looked for a quartet of violinists to add more feeling to the song."

He sounded so sad when telling his story that Jimin didn"t know what to tell him. But he knew how the anecdote had ended since he knew the song they were practicing, and it was not one that Yoongi composed.

"What did she say when she heard it?"

Yoongi laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

"She didn’t even finish listening to it when she told me that she would not dance to an unknown song at her wedding. It is the most important moment of her life. I wouldn"t embarrass her in front of her friends if someone asked whose song it was."

Jimin couldn"t control his emotions. He couldn"t blame the beer since his own heart was disgusted by the woman.

"What the fuck." Yoongi turned to look at him and Jimin tried to calm the expression on his face. "Min-sii, I"m sorry, but that’s a horrible thing to say. What are you going to say if someone asks who wrote the song? Well, my boyfriend! That"s what I would say, my boyfriend who loves me so much that he made a melody thinking of me. God, what I would give for someone who loved me like that."

"Really?"

Jimin couldn"t keep his composure for a moment longer. To hell with the professionalism between teacher and student. Jimin leaned over the table to take Yoongi"s free hand. The boyfriend lowered his gaze to the clasped hands and Jimin wished he could read his thoughts. Did he also feel the electric current traveling between them?

"I"m sorry she made you think otherwise, but I honestly think that creating a song, dedicated to the person you love, to dance to at your wedding is the most romantic thing I"ve ever heard in my life."

Yoongi didn"t answer and Jimin watched as a tear slid down his cheek. The music kept playing and the dancer was grateful for it as it hid any sound Yoongi might be making.

Jimin tried to remove his hand, to give the boy more privacy, but when he tried Yoongi only squeezed him harder, trying to prevent him from leaving and Jimin understood that he needed someone to be with him, supporting him. He could be that person. He would have liked more people to be there for him during his breakups.

"I do love her." Yoongi said between sobs and Jimin handed him a napkin. "Thank you."

"Maybe you just need to sit down and talk." Jimin really wanted to tell him to run away from the demon girlfriend he had, but he felt sad for him. A man in love. "You don"t need to be guided by the words of a simple dance instructor."

Yoongi shook his head, turning to Jimin again. His eyes were red, but still oh so pretty. He tugged at Jimin’s heart strings.

"You"re not just a simple dance instructor." He said firmly, squeezing his hand again. "Thank you, for your perspective, I have a lot to think about."

"Of course. And you don"t have to thank me. Or believe what I said. But I hope you come to a conclusion that brings you peace of mind."

"I hope so, too."

Again, there was silence, but this time at least Yoongi was no longer crying. A song from Jimin"s favorite group came out and the dancer turned to face the dance floor, his feet quickly picking up the rhythm of the melody.

"You should go there and dance. Don"t let my humor ruin your night, we ruined your day enough."

"Oh, no. Don"t worry about me. We"re here for you."

"No, I insist, go and have fun. Besides, I need to think about some things alone."

Jimin nodded quickly, embarrassed that he didn"t think the boyfriend would want alone time. He was just a person he barely knew. Of course he preferred to be alone, but he was too kind to just push Jimin off the table.

Following the revelation, Jimin stood up only to find that he was still holding Yoongi"s hand.

"Oh, I"m sorry." The black-haired man said, but he had a small shy smile on his face.

Jimin tried to record his face for a few seconds, the face of a man in love who writes songs for his love and blushes with prolonged physical contact. God really had a curious sense of humor if he had put someone like him in his way, with no intention of keeping him in his life.

"If you need me, I"ll be on the dance floor." Jimin said goodbye embarrassingly, looking for a way to continue talking to the groom, but when he just nodded his head, he turned around and joined the bodies dancing.                                                                     

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Yoongi had a lot to think about. He had been thinking a lot lately actually. It wasn’t like Park Jimin was the first one to notice the situation he was in, and he was definitely not the only one who tried to put some sense in his brain.

At first, he thought that the comments came from a place of ignorance. Surely those other people didn"t know Yejin like he did. His mother did not spend time with her as long as he did, therefore, the way she perceived his fiancée was not perfect. Now Yoongi thought that the reason why his mother and Yejin didn’t spend much time together was because Yejin always made excuses to avoid going out with his mother: she had to dye her hair, or she had to go for a massage because her work was killing her. Yoongi understood.

Then there was Namjoon, his childhood best friend who drank his entire beer in one gulp when Yoongi told him he was marrying Yejin.

"Are you sure?" His friend told him, and Yoongi was offended.

"Why wouldn"t I be?" He replied annoyed, but Namjoon had never been bothered by his friend"s bad mood. On the contrary, he was the first person to stand in front of him, ready to fight his temper.

"I thought you were with her only for a while." He replied, and that offended Yoongi even more.

"I"m not that kind of person."

"I know, I know," his friend said, waving a hand in front of him as if trying to disperse the tension between them. "But I thought maybe you were trying something different. I don"t know, your last breakup left you in a bad place and maybe you wanted to have something less serious now."

"Well, it"s not the case, and I"m going to marry her."

"Was it your idea?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Was it you who decided to go to Tiffany to buy a ring that"s worth more than the apartment we used to live in together?"

Yoongi lowered his gaze to his beer bottle, unable to look his friend in the eye and lie. Namjoon had known him for years; it was impossible to lie to him.

"Her dad took me to the jewelry store."

"Hyung."

"But I do want her. I love her. I want to marry her." He insisted quickly.

Perhaps it had not been his idea, but the moment he had the ring in his possession, he kept smiling admiring the shiny stone in his hand. More than one night Yoongi had gone to sleep staring at the ring, imagining a future where his wife would let Yoongi take off her ring after a long day at work, to join him in bed.

Yoongi loved the idea of having a partner to spend the rest of his life with. A soulmate.

Then Namjoon said something, and Yoongi couldn"t get it out of his head.

"And her? Does she also want to marry you, or just get married?"

Even though he kept thinking about those words from his best friend, he could pretend that his friend was saying it from a place of overprotection. Namjoon had been with him for many years and had seen Yoongi in his worst love disappointments, so it made sense that he would want to protect Yoongi. Once they were married, Yoongi was sure that Namjoon would change his mind.

But now a complete stranger had the same concern.

Jimin didn"t know him. At least not enough to be able to give an extensive opinion on what suited Yoongi. He didn"t know his tastes, to determine if Yejin and him were compatible, he didn"t know his past, to know if their relationship was just a way to distance himself from his previous relationships. Jimin didn"t know anything, and yet he was of the opinion that neither he nor Yejin seemed in love.

Yoongi couldn"t blame him. They hadn’t given any reason to believe otherwise. Besides, Yejin had never been affectionate. Lately, her temper had worsened, and Yoongi thought it had to do with the stress of the wedding and tried not to get in her way so that she could have a good day. Now, seeing himself through the eyes of his dance teacher, he realized that in reality the girl had been treating him horrendously for days. Weeks even.

He loved Yejin. Or so he thought. Lately he didn"t know what to think.

He thought that the dance class would bring them closer, and when he saw the choreography prepared for the dance, he was quite excited, although it would not be with the music he had prepared, he thought that the intimate details would bring him closer to his partner. He thought that looking into each other"s eyes would rekindle the flame between them. Instead, he only managed to anger Yejin with his lack of coordination and rhythm.

When Jimin danced with him in the morning, Yoongi thought that’s how it should have been from the beginning with Yejin. There was an intimate connection when both dancers had joined their foreheads at the beginning of the dance. Yoongi hadn"t thought much about that connection, thinking that it was to be expected because of the dance. But now he was thinking about it.

When was the last time he felt a connection with Yejin? When was the last time he felt an electric shock when touching his fiancé? When was the last time he felt like he couldn"t take his eyes off her? And why did he feel that way about Jimin?

The dance teacher was in the middle of the dance floor, and with his eyes closed he moved his body from side to side hypnotized by the music that surrounded the closed space. Yoongi could see that the other dancers had made room for Jimin, as if they had all come to an agreement that the dance floor belonged to him. It was impossible to believe otherwise. Park Jimin was born to dance.

The dance teacher was still wearing the clothes he wore to his studio, black pants and black shirt under a black corset that could look scandalous in any other man but just like the blue hair the dancer wore proudly, it looked like it belonged. As if it was created for him.

Yoongi drank his third glass of whiskey at once while watching Jimin dance. His eyes followed the swaying of his hips, mesmerized by how easy it seemed for the boy to do it, fluid movements that Yoongi could not identify when one started and when another ended. Jimin was an excellent dancer, something Yoongi knew in the back of his head, since Yejin’s dad had assured them that he had gotten the best dancer in Seoul to practice their waltz. But during the classes he had not paid much attention to it, all his focus directed at his fiancée seeking her happiness and comfort.

Now, sitting under the blue neon lights, with pop music covering his ears, he was realizing how good he really was. Park Jimin deserved to be on stage, receiving applause, not in a studio teaching a couple who seemed to hate each other.

Yoongi was about to order his fourth glass from the waiter who was hanging nearby when he discovered the teacher looking back at him. Jimin"s eyes were dangerous, a look that seemed to belong to a predator, different from how he looked sitting in front of him when they were talking a while ago. Maybe it was because he was in his element, his body gaining energy with each song.

Jimin was calling Yoongi to the dance floor, a finger pulling him in as if he had a string connected to Yoongi. Yoongi denied, laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation. He had never felt comfortable dancing, that"s why he was taking classes now. There was no justifiable reason to stand in the middle of a dance floor, with so many sweaty bodies to show everyone how uncomfortable he was when dancing. Less so with someone like Park Jimin around.

He had already made a fool of himself in front of Jimin more than once. He didn"t want to repeat the experience.

The boy didn"t seem to care about the rejection. Jimin just shook his head, as if disappointed, and returned to his dance. Yoongi watched him raise his arms freely, while it seemed that he was reciting the words of the song that enveloped him. Yoongi found himself thinking that he would like to be close to the boy while he sang. Music was his first love, and sadly Yejin wasn"t someone who sang often, preferring to put on a podcast when she was in the car to sing.

Yoongi closed his eyes and tried to imagine his married life to Yejin. Not the imagination he had manufactured in his head of the dream life that the movies had promised him, but the most accurate reality knowing his fiancée.

He thought about the mornings, when he wanted to wait longer in bed holding Yejin before starting his day, but Yejin always got up before him, because her morning beauty routine took a long time. He thought about the afternoons, when they both came home from work and how Yoongi wanted them both to cook together, sharing space while the food cooked. Instead, Yejin would go to her room to talk on the phone with different people while Yoongi cooked because "I couldn"t talk to my friend all day Yoongi, I need my time for myself too."

With each scenario that was put in mind, Yoongi realized that he expected things to change once they were married. Surely several of Yejin’s attitudes were explainable because they were not married yet and she kept thinking of herself as a single woman. But a wedding does not change people"s personalities. A wedding wasn"t going to change the fact that Yejin preferred to go on double dates with other married couples, rather than just Yoongi. A wedding wouldn"t change the fact that Yejin preferred to vacation in a new place every year, instead of taking at least a few days to go to Daegu to meet Yoongi"s family.

A wedding wouldn"t change Yejin, but was it changing Yoongi?

Making a decision, Yoongi stood up and with trembling steps made his way onto the dance floor. The people didn"t seem to care that he was trying to break through, and the poor guy got more than one blow by an elbow or hand moving in his direction.

When Jimin realized that he was heading towards him, he raised a hand in his direction and stopped dancing for a moment. Yoongi took his hand, feeling the same electricity he felt every time their bodies had met and felt the dancer pull him into his space on the floor. Into its orbit.

"I didn"t think you"d join." Jimin told him, shouting to make himself heard through the music.

"I want to try something." Yoongi told him, and the boy made a confused face. Yoongi tried louder. "I want to try something!"

"What?"

How could he tell him that he wanted to try to see if his body would react to Jimin in a way he had never done with his girlfriend? How could he tell him that he wanted to see if he was still attracted to boys, even though his girlfriend had told him that it was only a phase in college? How could he tell him that he thought he was attracted to him?

"I want to feel free when dancing!" He ended saying because, although the words were many in his head, those were enough for now.

Jimin seemed to understand, and without questioning more he raised his other hand to take Yoongi"s in his and smiling began to dance.

The dance wasn"t what Yoongi had expected when he made the decision to join Jimin on the dance floor. Pop music made the building vibrate as Jimin waved Yoongi"s hands to make him move his hips from side to side. The professor was still singing, apparently an expert in pop songs since he sang every song the DJ decided to play. Yoongi was impressed.

"How do you know all the songs?" Yoongi asked after Jimin surprised him by rapping an entire verse of a song before cracking out laughing.

"TikTok!" The boy said laughing. "I have to learn the challenges to keep up with the youth."

Yoongi smiled. It made sense. Now he couldn"t stop the image of Jimin dancing in front of a camera to do one of those dances that appeared on his feed from time to time. He imagined Jimin dancing in the kitchen, while Yoongi tried to explain how to cook...

"Do you like to cook?" The question came out unintentionally and Jimin looked at him confused, but still answered.

"It"s not that I like it, but I have to do it. My mom taught me enough not to starve."

"Do you get along with your mother?"

"I love her." Jimin confessed without hesitation, his beaming smile shining in the dark club. "I visit her every Chuseok."

Yoongi imagined Jimin sitting next to him in Daegu, smiling charmingly at whatever story his mother came up with to tell. He imagined Yejin sitting in his mother"s small living room, her hands glued to her body to avoid touching anything. He imagined her with a forced smile and at night complaining to Yoongi about all the things she had found unpleasant about his childhood home.

He was being very unfair to his fiancée.

He was being honest.

"Are you okay?"

Jimin had stopped dancing and Yoongi realized that he had done it too, caught up in his thoughts. His face probably betrayed his every tumultuous thought.

It"s not what he wanted. He wanted, just for a moment, to imagine that he was the person he used to be before he met Yejin. Even if it was unfair to her, he deserved a moment to be just Min Yoongi and rediscover himself.

"I just want to dance, please. I-I can"t find words."

Jimin nodded understanding immediately, and as if the last few seconds hadn"t passed, the teacher continued dancing, his body finding the rhythm of the song in less than a second. Yoongi watched him for a few seconds, impressed by his agility to adapt to any kind of melody. Yoongi tried to imagine him dancing other types of styles, would he dance Hip Hop too? Ballet?

Yoongi began to sway to the music, slowly gaining more confidence hypnotized by the swaying of Jimin"s hips. The blue-haired boy raised his arms in the air freely, and his feet moved expertly on the floor as he continued to sing, his voice light among the thunderous sound of the music, but they were so close that Yoongi could hear him. He had a sweet voice.

Suddenly the music changed, a slower one replacing the accelerated rhythm that had consumed them so far, a sensual rhythm that began to throb inside Yoongi"s chest. Jimin stopped, his eyes growing in surprise at the sudden change of music.

"We can go sit down, if you like."

He was giving him a chance to withdraw from what was probably a bad idea, and while Yoongi appreciated his teacher"s attention, he wished Jimin would pretend that he didn"t know Yoongi, to imagine that they had met at the club and had asked him to dance. He wanted Jimin to imagine that they were 3 years in the past when he didn"t know Yejin yet.

"I want to keep dancing, if that"s okay with you." Yoongi replied, shyly, but giving him the same option to retreat if his teacher wanted it.

But Yoongi suspected he wouldn"t.

Jimin took a step close to him, so close that Yoongi could feel the heat radiating from his body. He could see the beads of sweat sliding from his neck to his collarbone. Yoongi swallowed.

"Are you sure?"

Yoongi wanted to laugh. Just now he wasn"t sure of anything.

"Yes." He said anyway. Because he wasn"t sure, but he wanted to be. "I just don"t know how to dance to these songs."

"I"m still your teacher, aren"t I?" The boy said smiling flirtatiously. "Let me guide you," he added, sliding his hand down Yoongi"s side to rest on his waist.

Yoongi"s heart began to beat as Jimin guided him into the sensual beat. It was similar to their morning dance when they practiced the wedding choreography, a stream of energy running between them with every contact of their bodies, their knees rubbing, Jimin"s hand holding him tighter, bringing his hips closer. Yoongi gasped, his free hand meeting Jimin"s shoulder, the fabric of his shirt damp under his fingers.

The world seemed to dissolve around both of them. Yoongi was slightly aware of the other people and the changing-colored lights, but his focus was on Jimin. Sweet Jimin, smiling gently as his hips marked each beat of the song.

Their eyes were caught between each other, the space between them disappearing.

Their bodies moved in sync with the beat, Jimin"s hips rolling against Yoongi in a way that took his breath away. Yoongi felt his pulse inside his ears as Jimin"s thigh brushed against his, deliberately and slowly.

"Is this okay?" Jimin whispered in his ear, his tone playful and airy, as if he was affected as well.

Yoongi couldn"t answer, his mind focused on how Jimin"s body stuck to his, the way Jimin"s fingers danced on his back, playing with the base of his neck. Jimin"s movements were fluid, unhurried, his hips rubbing against Yoongi causing his stomach to tighten.

The groom tilted his head back slightly, his mouth opening with a trembling exhalation. Jimin leaned surprisingly closer, his lips against Yoongi"s neck. It wasn"t a kiss, barely, but it sent more of the delicious electricity they shared through Yoongi’s body.

"Jimin." Yoongi gasped, feeling his heart pound loudly for the first time in months.

"You learn fast." Jimin muttered, his voice deep and soaked in heat, his hands sliding down, brushing Yoongi"s waist, then his hips.

Yoongi couldn"t think. He couldn"t breathe. His entire world had been reduced to Jimin, to his touch, his smell, the way their bodies fit together as if they had danced together a hundred times over. When Yoongi lowered his face, his lips were about to meet and he panicked, Jimin"s face transforming into Yejin in a second.

Yoongi suddenly separated from Jimin, taking two steps back colliding with another couple. They said something to him, probably annoyed, but Yoongi couldn"t hear them. He thought about Yejin over and over again, about what a bad person he was.

"Yoongi. Yoongi. What"s going on? Are you okay?"

He wasn"t. He was actually panicking. His mind continued replaying different scenarios that could happen in the future, scenarios in which Yejin didn"t fit into the fantasy that Yoongi had created for his life. Scenarios where Jimin fitted perfectly like a missing puzzle piece, in the same way that their bodies managed to connect perfectly.

Wasn"t that cheating? He was still engaged to Yejin and instead he was dreaming about a life with someone else while holding him in his arms.

"I need to get out of here."

"Sure, let me pay and we can go to-."

"No. I need to go alone. I am sorry. Professor Park I- I"m sorry, but we are not-." Yoongi didn"t have the words to explain his tumult, but the professor understood perfectly, nodding his head even before Yoongi finished speaking.

"No, no. I understand, I overdid it. I"m sorry, really."

Yoongi wanted to tell him that he wasn’t to blame, that on the contrary he had done exactly what he had been looking for, that he was the bad person who put him in that position when he knew it wasn"t the right thing to do because he had Yejin.

"You don"t have to apologize, I"m the one who did wrong and it"s not fair to you, Jimin."

The professor was biting his lip and Yoongi looked at the pink, plump lips the boy had, lips that were against his skin just a few minutes ago. He was really fucked.

The music continued to vibrate around them, the humming of the music running through Yoongi’s body preventing him from calming down. He felt as if he could faint. He couldn’t think clearly. Jimin seemed to notice because he grabbed Yoongi by the sleeve, careful not to touch his skin, and pulled him out of the club. Quickly the music faded away as the cold night air greeted them, and Yoongi was able to breathe again.

"I"m sorry, I can order an uber for you." Jimin quickly offered, taking the cell phone out of his pocket without looking at Yoongi. "Please don"t think I brought you with the intention of getting into your pants or something, even if it looks like I threw myself at you and I"m really sorry, because I know you"re engaged, because I know your fiancée and I"m so sorry and-."

Yoongi couldn"t handle Jimin blaming himself. He took a few steps forward and held his teacher by the shoulders. Jimin stilled, lifting his face from his cell phone to look at him. If Yoongi wasn’t engaged, he thought he would like to get lost in his gaze any other night.

"Don"t apologize, please. What’s the say? It takes two to tango." Jimin didn"t smile at his joke, so Yoongi continued. "I also let myself get carried away. I may have even started it. If anyone has to apologize, it"s me."

"Oh."

"I still need to leave, because I don"t have self-control tonight."

"Oh." Jimin said again, and Yoongi laughed.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I"m sorry, I told you I"m not good with my words." The boy laughed and Yoongi felt like he could breathe again. "But I think I understand. It doesn"t mean I feel less guilty, but I understand. Do you have anywhere to go tonight?"

Yoongi frowned for a second but realized that he didn"t. He had nowhere to go. He didn"t want to go with Yejin after everything he had been through. He didn"t want to have to look her in the eye when he hadn"t made up his mind about how he felt about her. When he had been rubbing himself against another body just a few minutes ago.

Jimin nodded, understanding his silence. "You can stay in the studio. Upstairs is a small apartment I was renting, but the guy moved away two weeks ago. You can stay there."

Yoongi didn"t know what to say, thinking about how unbelievable it was for someone like Park Jimin to actually exist, and how late it was now to meet him.

He accepted.

🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃

It was late when Jimin realized he left his phone at his studio after dropping Yoongi there. He had been in a hurry, his brain still replaying how receptive Yoongi’s body had been during their dance and how much he would’ve liked to test if they had the same connection in a different type of intimacy, which couldn’t happen, so he had left quickly after making sure Yoongi was comfortable and knew where everything was.

Now, Jimin was going back to retrieve his phone. The dance studio was quiet now, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and faint traces of cologne. Jimin breathed in feeling himself relax. This was his place, his safe heaven. He didn’t even have to turn on the lights to find his way around, the big windows letting the light of the moon wash over the space. He noticed his phone, lonely resting next to the speaker and went to pick it up.

A faint creak of a door startled him, and when he looked up, there was Yoongi, still wearing his smart black slacks, his hands stuffed in the pockets.

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?”

The older man shrugged, looking almost sheepish. “Couldn’t sleep.” he murmured. “Thought I’d…clear my head.”

Jimin couldn’t blame him. His mind was racing as well, he could only imagine how many more things were going through Yoongi’s head.

“The space is yours tonight.” Jimin told him, opening his arms as if hugging the whole studio. “I hope it can help you the way it helps me.”

Yoongi smiled softly at that and turned to the space as if looking at it for the first time, although he had been going twice a week for several weeks now to rehearse. He glanced at the piano in the corner, its glossy surface catching the dim glow of the moon outside. It was mostly used as decoration—rarely used, except when a client hired a pianist to practice.

Yoongi was staring at the piano as if it was a glass of water in the middle of the desert. Jimin remembered he used to be a pianist.

“You can play it.”

The groom opened his eyes wide. Caught.

Jimin walked to the piano, pressing the keys lightly to show Yoongi it was real and not just décor. The sound echoed for a second, taking space in the night. Yoongi closed his eyes, as if the mere sound of it was enough to bring him peace. Jimin smiled, finding himself in Yoongi. That was the look he had whenever his feet found himself gliding through a song.

“Are you sure?” The groom hesitated but his feet were taking him to the piano. A planet couldn’t stray from its orbit after all.

Jimin shook his head, stepping aside. “Go ahead. I’d love to hear you play.”

Yoongi crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was unsure if he belonged there at all. He sat at the bench, his hands hovering over the keys before pressing down softly. The first notes were tentative, like whispers, but soon they grew into a melody, something delicate and sweet.

Jimin gasped, even if he had never heard the melody before he could recognize it for what it was. It was a waltz. Was it…

“It’s the song I composed.” Yoongi admitted, noticing Jimin’s recognition, his fingers continuing the dance over the keys. “For me and Yejin.”

Jimin closed his eyes, as his heart started to beat quicker, following the ethereal melody. He couldn’t believe someone could have rejected the beautiful song, and once more found himself loathing Son Yejin. If he had been in her place. God. What would he even do? He probably would’ve been very scared to even create a dance for it, forever scared of not being good enough to match the emotion of his fiancé.

“How would the choreo look like for this song?” Yoongi asked and Jimin opened his eyes in surprise that they both were thinking the same thing.

“I-I don’t know.”

Yoongi stopped playing, and Jimin was already missing it.

“I thought you were one of the best choreographers in Seoul.” Yoongi insisted, something daring and pleading in his voice. “I thought you could make choreographies out of thin air.”

“People exaggerate my talents.”

“That’s a shame then.” The groom made a face, but didn’t move from the piano. “I-I’m not good at asking for things. But I will this time. Park Jimin, could you dance to my song please? Just once, I’d like to know what could’ve been.”

Jimin’s heart wasn’t used to someone like Min Yoongi. All of Jimin, actually, wasn’t used to him.

The groom was staring at him pleadingly, his deep eyes full of want and Jimin was a weak man for those eyes. He knew this already, but he wanted to give him the world.

He removed his coat and threw it carelessly near the door, getting rid of his shoes in the same manner, the cold floor grounding him.

“Play it from the beginning, Yoongi-sii.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, his fingers returned to the keys, and he started the song one more time. Jimin closed his eyes as he felt the pull instantly. His body responded without thinking, his feet gliding across the floor, arms lifting gracefully as if the music itself had taken control. He twirled, his blue hair spinning with him, his movements fluid and unrestrained.

Yoongi’s fingers faltered for a split second when he noticed.

Jimin danced like water, effortless and natural, his body swaying to the rhythm Yoongi was weaving. The curves of his body kissed by the moonlight washing through the high windows, as if even the moon wished to admire him. His eyes were half-closed, his expression serene, a small smile playing on his lips as if he’d found a secret joy in the quiet of the night. As if dancing brought him the same peace playing music did to Yoongi.

Yoongi could picture the dance Jimin created as his wedding waltz. He could imagine Jimin wearing a tux, dancing effortlessly under the loving eyes of their families. He could see himself, guiding him in the steps, although it was obvious to anyone that Jimin was the one leading.

He couldn’t imagine Yejin dancing to it. She could never replicate the fluidness of Jimin. She couldn’t make Yoongi’s heart stutter the way the teacher did. She didn’t even care enough to accept the song for their waltz, and in comparison, Jimin, a complete stranger had cared enough to fulfil a request in the middle of the night.

“You’re incredible,” Yoongi said softly, almost to himself, though the words carried across the room.

Jimin opened his eyes, his smile widening. “So are you. That melody…I can’t explain it, but I feel it thrumming in my heart.”

Yoongi hesitated, his hands still moving over the keys. “I’m still an amateur, It’s obviously not as good as-.”

Jimin shook his head stopping him, his movements slowing as the music grew softer. “It’s beautiful. Keep playing.”

Yoongi obeyed, the music flowing again, but his gaze lingered on Jimin now. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved—so free, so alive. It was the opposite of the rigid, critical energy Yejin brought to their lessons. Jimin wasn’t trying to impress anyone; he was just…himself.

For the first time in weeks, Yoongi felt like he could breathe.

As the final notes faded into the stillness, Jimin stopped, his chest rising and falling lightly from the exertion. He turned to Yoongi, his face flushed, his eyes bright.

“That was perfect.” Jimin said, his voice a little breathless.

Yoongi blinked, his heart stuttering as he looked at him. It wasn’t the music or the dance, not entirely. It was the way Jimin stood there, his entire being radiating warmth, his joy unfiltered and sincere.

Yoongi thought of Yejin—her sharp words, her cold dismissals, the way she seemed to tolerate his presence rather than embrace it. And then he thought of Jimin, who had just danced for the sheer love of it, who had smiled at him like he was something more than a man fumbling his way through life.

In that moment, Yoongi realized something dangerous, something he’d been too afraid to admit before: he could fall in love with Jimin.

And it would be easy. Easier than how it was with Yejin, and that wasn’t fair for neither him or her.

“Thank you.” Yoongi managed to say, getting up from the piano and bowing to Jimin.

“You don’t have to-.”

“I do. So, please. Accept my gratitude.” Yoongi interrupted, still bending forward until Jimin walked towards him, placing a hand delicately to his shoulder to make him straighten up.

“I accept it. Even if I don’t think it’s necessary.” He laughed, as if it seemed ridiculous to him, but to Yoongi, Jimin had been the revelation he needed. “And the song was lovely, it was a pleasure to dance to it. You have talent, Yoongi-sii, I hope you keep making music.”

And that was the biggest proof of love Jimin could show him. Because, if you love someone, wouldn’t you want them to do the things they loved?

“I got to go, for real this time. Don’t think I don’t appreciate your kindness this night, and I don’t want to be ungrateful after you offered me a place to stay but-.”

“But you have somewhere else to be. I get it Yoongi-sii. Go get her.”

Yoongi nodded, only faintly thinking that Jimin seemed to always read his mind, constantly finishing his sentences.

Once Yoongi gathered his stuff (his cell phone he left charging at Jimin’s apartment), he waved goodbye to his dance teacher, admiring the way his blue hair seemed to shine brighter under the full moon. He hoped, once he organized his affairs, he could come back to him and maybe ask him to teach him the choreo of the waltz, but he wouldn’t ask Jimin to wait for him.

But he hoped he would.

🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃🎹💃

Jimin loved teaching couples to dance.

He loved to see them smile whenever they found each other in the middle of the floor.

He sighed happily whenever they kissed at the end, redirecting them to their positions to practice again.

He loved the new pianist who created lovely waltz for the couples, who was once a groom about to marry someone who wasn’t right for him. A pianist who showed at Jimin’s studio with his curriculum months after he announced to Jimin the wedding had been cancelled. A pianist who stayed late at night playing for Jimin, as the dancer created new choreos for his clients.

Jimin adored teaching couples but no longer lived precariously through their love lives since he wasn’t horribly single anymore.

He had now someone to waltz with.