forum dancing thing // private rp with octane

Started April 17, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

"I should probably warn you," he murmured, suddenly quieting, "I may have to leave the city at some point or another. I'm not sure when."

And that was something that hurt Luther more than accepting the invitation to dance. He hated hope, hated when it left him so quickly after just getting it. "That's alright. We can still dance, I suppose, can't we?" he asked softly

"Until then? Of course," Kieran agreed, sensing the other man's disappointment. "I'm not sure when, yet. I'm…. looking for something. I might be back."

Liar.

If he found his selkie coat, the only place he'd be going was the sea. But despite his conscience, he fed Luther the half-lie, hoping to soothe him a little. Which was ridiculous—why would he care if his rude student was leaving?

"That's alright. Don't feel as if you need to stick around for me. There are other instructors out there, I wouldn't want you to feel tied down because of me," Luther said softly. He was gnawing the inside of his cheek, really, but he had to keep quiet about his disappointment

(hey I've got an idea for them later on)

(ooh, I'm intrigued. Send it to the PM?)

Kieran was slightly at a loss for words. How was he supposed to reply to that? 'Sorry, there aren't any ballroom dance instructors under the sea, I won't be looking for another one after I leave?' Or maybe 'You're not tying me down, the only thing I want to do is get back home?'

He stayed silent for a few moments, before opening his mouth to speak again. "I'll see if I can visit."

(yuh)

Luther didn't respond verbally to that, just let the corner of his lip quirk up in a faint, partially forced smile. He continued to sway gently with Kieran as the music began to wind down, slowing their movements and drawing them out

Kieran fell silent as well, unsure how to fix the mess he had apparently just made. He let Luther take the lead a little more towards the end, unsure how to finish off.

Eventually, the music slowed to a stop, and Luther glanced to a clock on the wall. Their session was nearly at an end, and he felt something sad rise in him. "I suppose you must be going soon. Our lesson is nearly done," he said as he let go of Kieran

"Already?" Kieran glanced up at the clock, and an emptiness spread through his chest. Oh. These dance lessons were some of the few friendly interactions he was able to have with other human—well. Other intelligent beings.

"Yes, I suppose. But…If you'd like, we could run over to the coffee and boba shop across the street, since there's not quite enough time to start dancing again," Luther offered with just the smallest shred of hope

Kieran blinked, astonished that someone—and his dance instructor, no less—actually wanted to spend more time than strictly necessary with him. “I—Yeah,” he answered after a moment, slightly awkward. “I’d like that.”

"Consider it an apology for me taking up so much of our time talking. Your shirt should be dry now, so we can go once you get dressed," Luther said, smiling every so softly

Kieran have a brief nod, ducking his head and turning away before Luther could see his own, more anxious smile. As his instructor predicted, his shirt was dry, the warm fabric sliding over his skin as he pulled it on. A mess of scars and tattoos disappeared beneath the white garment, hidden from the world once more.

Luther retrieved his phone as Kieran got dressed, slipping it into his back pocket before stretching with a soft yawn, his shirt riding up ever so slightly to expose just a sliver of his tempting hips

Kieran turned around just to catch a glimpse of Luther’s bare waist. His traitorous heart skipped a beat, as it always did around other young men showing skin, and before he had fully grasped what he was about to do, the selkie was driving a hand across his own face in a harsh slap.

He stared at his hand for a few seconds in disbelief. Shit…. did I just do that in front of Luther? He couldn’t afford to fool around with anyone again, not after the last time… but he couldn’t afford giving anything away to his dance instructor, either. So, before the man could react, Kieran was striding towards the door; a silent invitation for Luther to follow.

Luckily for Kieran, Luther had his eyes closed while stretching, so he hadn't noticed Kieran smack himself at all. He raised a brow briefly when he saw Kieran walking so quickly towards the door, but he brushed it off, telling himself it was nothing as he followed suit

Kieran froze as he emerged into the fog, the damp air clinging to his freshly-dried clothing.

Shit, he cursed internally, balling his hands into fists. I forgot.

Luther watched as Kieran tensed up, and his lips pursed as he held the door. "Wait a moment," he said before going back inside, grabbing his coat before draping it around Kieran's shoulders. "There, you won't get cold or wet again," he said with a faint smile

Kieran stared down at the coat for a few seconds, disbelief crossing his features even as the mist's sinister whispering tugged at his resolve. Slowly, his eyes slid to Luther, and his expression softened.

"Thank you," he murmured gratefully.

"Of course," Luther said with a soft smile, adjusting the collar of the coat so it wrapped around his neck a bit better, keeping out the chill. "You seem to get cold easily, and I'm long immune to it," he said with a small smile

“Oh, no,” he laughed quietly, the irony twisting his lips into a smile despite the persistent, beckoning call of the sea. “I am quite used to the cold, but I hate the fog. It… brings back memories.”

"Well, think of this as a distraction, then. A way to get away from it all," Luther suggested with a small shrug. "Now, how about that coffee?" he asked

“Sounds great.”

They crossed the street together, Luther leading the way. Kieran’s strides were long—he was anxious to get jnside.

Luther kept pace with Kieran easily, his long legs carrying him across the street. He hummed softly as they went, eager to get something warm to drink

They skipped inside the coffee shop, and Kieran exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he murmured in his instructor’s direction. “One question—what’s boba?”