forum dancing thing // private rp with octane

Started April 17, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

“No.” Yes. Please, listen, I’m begging you. “No, I don’t ‘need to talk’. I’m fine.” The lie stung as it tumbled out, causing Kieran to wince a little. “Can we please just get to dancing, already?”

"No, you're not dried off yet," Luther said, gesturing to Kieran's still-wet clothes. "Chafing is a thing I would rather you not experience. Now, would you like to tell me what's really wrong, or are you just going to sit there and mope?" he asked with a raise of a brow

“Neither.” Kieran resounded to the raised eyebrow with a scowl, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. “I can dance shirtless, can’t I? My jeans aren’t really wet, and I don’t want to lose class time. I don’t pay you to sit around and do nothing.”

Luther felt his mouth go dry, and he swallowed briefly before speaking. "Yes, I suppose you can dance shirtless," he answered, mentally berating himself for tensing up like he did, even if it was for only a brief moment. He was a dance instructor, not some teenager getting flustered over seeing someone shirtless

“Great.”

Not one for manners and overdone politeness, Kieran pulled the damp shirt over his head and slung it unceremoniously over the space heater. Without paying his instructor so much as a glance, he lifted his arms over his head and stretched, tanned skin shifting over each pronounced muscle on his torso. His tattoos and scars rippled with the movement, drawing yet more attention to his admittedly attractive body.

Finally, he turned back to Luther. “Let’s start, hm?”

Luther nodded curtly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on anywhere but Kieran's exposed torso. He swallowed again, mouth still dry as he did his best to try and stamp down his thoughts, lest his pale cheeks start turning red. He had already stretched before Kieran had gotten there, so he outstretched a hand. "Shall I take the lead, or do you feel more confident doing so yourself?" he asked

Kieran arched an eyebrow, eyes skimming Luther’s throat as he swallowed yet again. “You can take the lead, Luther,” he answered smoothly, placing his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

Luther didn’t answer verbally, just gave a curt nod as he glanced over at the old stereo system on a table across the room. With a barely noticeable tilt of his head, the stereo clicked on, his phone automatically going to his playlist for lessons. Once it was on, he placed his hands on Kieran’s waist. As badly as he wanted to save himself from his face going red, he wouldn’t stray from proper posture

Kieran hummed softly, regarding his instructor rather closely as they began to move to the music, each step falling almost perfectly in place. “What am I learning today, Mr. Luther?”

"Mm, just practice first. I felt I should gauge how far you've come before deciding where next to move on," Luther answered, the sweet melody and all but perfect motions helping him to relax as they swayed

Kieran accepted this with a nod, exhaling softly. He tried to lose himself in the music, forget the haunting presence of the fog, just beyond the classroom windows, and eventually, the tantalizing call faded to the back of his mind.

Luther continued to lead like this, swaying and dancing across the room. He would admit, he loved just how quickly Kieran had learned in the span of a month or so. It was nice to get to have someone to properly dance with, student or not

Eventually, Kieran grew tired of the silence. Clearing his throat, he returned his eyes to Luther's and opened his mouth to speak. "How long have you been dancing, Luther?" he asked his instructor—the first question that came to mind.

"Many years. Since I was twelve, if I remember correctly. It was a welcome distraction from life's current events," Luther answered, eyes slightly distant as he continued to sway gently with Kieran

Welcome distraction. Kieran's lips twisted into a faint, bitter smile. "I know the feeling." Briefly, a memory arose to the forefront of his mind—the war beneath the surface. His eyes darkened slightly. "Who taught you? To dance, I mean."

Luther seemed a little confused at first, but he quickly realized that Kieran was asking him something again. "Oh, who taught me? Well, my grandfather's butler was once a dance instructor himself. I learned from him when my grandfather was away," he answered with a faint smile

Kieran arched an eyebrow, amusement and curiosity flickering across his features. "Your grandfather's… butler?" he questioned, finding the statement ironic. The rich boy, teaching the significantly poorer boy to dance. "Interesting. I never knew my grandfather, I don't think."

"I rarely knew mine, if I'm honest. My parents weren't entirely thrilled to have me around, and they were happy to dump me on my grandfather so they could…'work.' And of course, he was busy, so I only had the butler to talk to. A lovely man, really," Luther said, his very faint smile growing ever so slightly at the memory

Kieran was caught off guard by the sudden honesty—he hadn’t expected his dance instructor to reveal something so personal. Slowly, hesitantly, he decided to return to favour. “I haven’t seen my mother in.. a long time. She was.. taken, I suppose.”

"Taken?" Luther asked softly, curious but careful not to pry. "You don't have to elaborate if you don't want. I suppose it's just in my nature to ask questions," he said with a soft chuckle

Kieran’s body tensed beneath Luther’s hands, but a fragment of the truth was already slipping from his mouth. “A man,” he murmured, “One who claimed he loved her. She did not want to go, in the end.”

What was it about this man, that put him so at ease?

Luther nodded gently, his movements slowing as the song began to slow as well. "The heart is easily swayed and tricked, I'm afraid. I've heard many a tale of hearts turned black at the touch of something clean. Curious, really, how they say the heart always knows what's right," he said softly

“That’s bullshit,” he murmured, blunt despite how softly he was speaking. “The heart is an idiot. And a traitor. It’s not good for anything but pain.”

The corner of Luther's lip quirked in a smile at the same time he felt a painful pang in his chest. "Oh, how true that is," he murmured softly, thinking of his own, more recent problems with the troublesome thing

Kieran exhaled slowly, trying and failing to push an all-too-familiar image from his mind. Eyes—green and dangerous, like sea glass. A soothing voice, coaxing him from the water, strong arms encircling him….. Kisses like honey, like the sweetest ambrosia. Intoxicating, addicting. Whispered promises in the dark…

And the burning pain of betrayal when each and every one of them were broken.