itchy fingers

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/15032897.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Dancing, dance lessons,
Irish Dance
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2018-07-11 Words: 7,484 Chapters: 1/1
 itchy fingers
by peanutbutterapple

Summary

“You had practice Saturday?” Jimin said, looking at him.

Jungkook gave a half-shrug and looked away. “I was supposed to.”

He looked back up when Jimin moved toward him, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“But you didn’t go, because you came to see me.”

Jungkook felt a blush beginning in the roots of his hair.

Jungkook and Jimin do two totally different styles of dance, but that doesn't mean they can't
dance together.

Notes

This is for thegoldensextet because it is her birthday, she's great and she loves BTS and Irish
dance and deserves everything in the world. "Itchy Fingers" is the name of an Irish dance
song she likes (sorry for making you list a gazillion songs for no reason and I ended up
choosing the first one). But anyway. HAPPY BIRTHDAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!

See the end of the work for more notes

“I know what your big plans are for Saturday,” said a voice in Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook startled, sloshing his tiny cup of water down the front of his t-shirt. Hoseok was
standing far too close to him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said, picking at the front of his wet shirt.

Hoseok grabbed his own little paper cup and filled it from the water cooler, even though his
water bottle was sitting on a chair a few feet away.

“I know the big plans you’re ditching team practice for on Saturday,” Hoseok said again. He
lifted an eyebrow and took a delicate sip of water from his cup.

“I’m not ditching,” Jungkook said immediately. He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Hoseok smiled with all his teeth, then held up a green flyer. Tape was still stuck on the edges.
“You are not sly.”

The flyer said, in big, green letters, St. Patrick’s Day Festival in Seoul! A day of music and
dance.

“Now who could have left this here?” Hoseok said, putting a finger to his chin and looking up
at the ceiling. “Some copy-happy student studying abroad from Ireland? Who just happened
to be passing through the dance building and decided to tape three to our door, and our door
only?” Hoseok paused, lips curling into another grin. “Or maybe it was-”

Jungkook’s face immediately went hot. “ Hyung -” He made a swipe for the flyer, but Hoseok
held it out of his reach, grin widening.

“Maybe it was Lee Chansook?”

“I didn’t even say that’s where I was going-

“Or, wait, what’s her dance partner’s name?”

“This has nothing to do with him-”

“No? A flyer for an Irish festival appears on our dance studio door, and it has nothing to do
with the only two Irish dancers in this school?” Hoseok asked.

Jungkook’s face was boiling. “It has nothing to do with me.”

“Really? I think Park Jimin might want something to do with you.”

“Can you-” Jungkook finally snatched the flyer out of Hoseok’s hand “-give me that!”

“You’ll need that, it has the location on it, somewhere near Itaewon,” Hoseok said. “Jimin
didn’t put three flyers on our door just for you to get lost.”
Jungkook glared at him.

Hoseok laughed, the sound bouncing off the mirrors. His face softened. “Jungkook-ah, this is
good. Go see him, clearly he wants you to.”

Jungkook glanced down at the flyer in his hand, listing out the date and the times and the
location and activities. Yes, this is what he’d been planning on doing Saturday. Jimin had
mentioned it last week, a little offhandedly, he didn’t think Jimin really cared about
Jungkook’s presence that much-

“I’m not ditching practice, though,” Jungkook said. He knew he had to be there, they only
had a few weeks until the spring show. “I can come after-”

“You better, it’s a very important practice,” Hoseok said, then pinched his red cheek. He
patted it. “But you better have fun first, Kook-ah. Hyung’s orders.”

The first time Jungkook had met Park Jimin, Jungkook had been running late.

He’d only just gotten onto the modern dance team, and he knew Hoseok was a stickler for
punctuality. So as he skidded down the hall of practice rooms, cursing his mathematics
homework for putting him to sleep, he prayed that Hoseok wouldn’t kick the new,
inexperienced first year off the team.

He rounded a corner, backpack flying behind him, and ran smack into another human body.

Jungkook staggered and there was a gasp as the other person hit the floor hard.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry-” Jungkook reached his hands out.

His dark hair had fallen in a curtain over his eyes, but it was a guy, a relatively small,
compact guy, and he’d fallen flat on the ground with his legs spread in front of him like some
sort of unbalanced toddler. His water bottle slowly rolled across the hallway.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, cheeks burning with mortification as he leaned down to
snatch the water bottle.

“I- I think so,” the guy said, and he sounded more shocked than hurt. He pushed his hair out
of his eyes and looked up.

Jungkook blinked.

Cute was not enough to describe him. Cute was not what Jungkook should be thinking about
someone he’d almost just accidentally assailed.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jungkook managed to say again, because he didn’t know what to say, and
because he really was sorry. Not knowing what else to do, he held out a hand to help him up.
The guy looked at the hand for the space of a second, then grabbed it and let Jungkook pull
him back to his feet.

“It’s okay,” the guy said. He brushed his hair back with his hair again, giving Jungkook the
full force of his eyes, and closer like this, Jungkook realized just how cute this guy was. He
was all plump lips and lovely cheeks and pretty eyes. .

Dumbly, Jungkook held the water bottle out, and the boy took it. Even his hands were small.

The boy looked at Jungkook, taking in his shorts and t-shirt, and said, “You’re new?”

Jungkook nodded, feeling suddenly insecure. “Yeah, I’m going to dance team.” He tried to
give the guy a smile and hoped it wasn’t as awkward as he felt. “I’m, uh- actually running
really late.”

“I can see that,” the guy said, and then he smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges, and
suddenly Jungkook was almost tempted to skip his first dance team, and spend the next hour
just looking at the boy he’d just barreled to the floor. Hoseok was definitely going to kick
him off the team.

“I should go,” Jungkook said, not moving. He stuck his hand out toward him. “But, uh- I’m
Jungkook. First year.”

The boy took it, warm fingers wrapping around Jungkook’s. “Park Jimin. Second year.”

“Nice to meet you- ” Jungkook said. He stopped. “Not like this, sorry, I mean- sorry, again,
for running into you-”

But Jimin- laughed. A fluttering, bright thing that reverberated off the walls of the empty
hallway. Embarrassingly, Jungkook felt his breath catch in his throat.

When he snuck into the practice room five minutes later, immediately falling into an
apologetic explanation in front of the entire team, he was astonished when Hoseok began to
grin.

“You ran into Park Jimin?” he’d said around a laugh. “You’re lucky you didn’t actually injure
him. Seoul’s Irish Association would have killed you.”

“Irish...what?” Jungkook said blankly.

“Irish Association,” Hoseok said, like duh, Jungkook, why have you never considered that
Korea would have an Irish Association? “You ever seen Riverdance? That’s what Jimin does.
He and his dance partner Lee Chansook, they’ve been in all sorts of competitions in Europe,
they’re that good. Which is saying something, because it’s not easy making it as a Korean
Irish dancer, you know?”

“They’re really good,” said a girl stretching by the corner.

“I think Jimin speaks Gaelic,” added another.

“Oh,” said Jungkook. Oh no.

“Yup.” Hoseok patted him on the shoulder. “The study abroad department would have killed
you, too.”

Okay, so Jungkook had almost taken out a significant figure in the gateway between Korean
and western cultures, not only for their school, but the entire city, apparently. And the guy
was wildly talented at a type of dance not many people around here specialized in. And was
cute and had a nice laugh. Oh no.

“Back to stretches!” Hoseok called out, and winked at him.

There was a sea of bright green unlike anything Jungkook had seen in the city before.

There were Koreans and westerners alike in little green hats, fake red beards, and green
shamrocks adorned on green articles of clothing. Little children ran past Jungkook with face
paint and green balloons. Jungkook glanced down at his own pale yellow hoodie and black
jeans, feeling oddly conspicuous.

“What did St. Patrick even do to get himself an entire day?” Taehyung had asked the night
before, sprawled out on Jungkook’s bed eating yogurt jellies. Unlike Hoseok, he didn’t laugh
at Jungkook, and even mourned the fact that he was too busy to come with him to the festival
with him. It was a shame, because Taehyung probably would have really enjoyed wearing
one of the fake beards.

“Well, he was a saint,” said Jungkook, who had read an entire wiki page on St. Patrick’s Day
in preparation. “And there’s a myth that he drove all the snakes out of Ireland.”

Taehyung sighed. “That’s a really good reason to have a day.”

In the plaza, Junkgook cast his eyes toward the small stage. There was a band playing, with
guitars and a violin and a woman with a clear, sweet voice. It was nice, and everything about
this kind of made Jungkook want to go traveling.

“Excuse me?” said a small voice in very stilted Korean.

Jungkook looked down. Two little girls sat at a booth, blonde curls piled high on their heads
like Jungkook had never seen before, cheeks sparkling with green glitter. One held out a
green shamrock lollipop.

Jungkook took it, and smiled at them, feeling oddly touched. “Thank you,” he said back in
English. The girls beamed at him.
Jungkook wandered around a bit more, sucking on the lollipop and contemplating getting
something from one of the food stands, when the music ended, and he heard two familiar
names announced.

“-annual performers of Irish dance, Lee Chansook and Park Jimin!”

It was stupid, very, very stupid, that Jungkook felt a spike in his pulse from the sound of a
name, but-

But there he was, standing perfectly poised, toes pointed in anticipation, dark hair slicked
back from his forehead, silky black shirt hanging from his perfect shoulders, slim and
compact and-

Cheers rang up from the area of the stage; obviously they were a popular act, were well-
known here at this festival, people anticipated them and they were well liked. Chansook wore
a dress of black and sparkling green, hair tied up in a ribbon.

Jungkook had never seen them dance professionally before.

The music began, loud and fast, not even sparing them a moment to warm up, and Jimin and
Chansook immediately leapt into action, springing into step with perfect synchronization.
Their toes were pointed so impeccably straight.

It was incredible, the poise of their shoulders, the control of their torso, the fluidity of their
legs, their ability to leap like that. Chansook’s hair flew behind her as she moved, dress
glittering in the bleak March sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds.

But Jimin-

He made it look effortless in a way that Jungkook knew meant hours and hours of practice,
legs moving with such precision it was hard to keep track of the steps. He held his chin high
and sharp, cheekbones sharp, gaze focused. He held his arms straight at his sides, shirtsleeves
sleek and shining, chest perfectly straight.

Park Jimin was utter control and unworldly fluidity in one.

Both he and Chansook together made a formidable dance team, and Jungkook could feel that
in the way they played off one another, danced around and with one another, their high kicks
and their big jumps working together as one.

The music came to an abrupt halt, and so did they.

They held their poses as the crowd erupted into cheers in front of the stage. Jungkook could
tell they were trying to keep their faces serious, but Jimin’s finally burst into a smile, like he
was soaking up the cheers into his very skin.

Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast.

He watched from his spot in the back of the crowd as they did a few more numbers. He could
understand why they performed internationally. They were incredible.
They took a bow, hands clasped and faces glowing, and stepped off the stage. Jungkook tried
to see over the little crowd, but they were swarmed by friends. Jungkook saw Kim Namjoon
pull a laughing Jimin into a hug.

Jungkook hesitated. He and Jimin were friends, sure. Friends who saw each other in passing
in the dance building, friends who sometimes peeked in on each other’s practices. Friends
who got dinner sometimes if their schedules lined up. And honestly, Jungkook had always
been a bit too hesitant to ask for much more than that. Jimin was very popular, and Jungkook
was just...Jungkook.

Though there was that afternoon recently, when Jimin had spotted him doing homework in a
cafe near campus. He’d sat down across from Jungkook, pulling out a textbook with the
express intention of joining him, but instead they’d ended up talking for two and a half hours,
nursing their drinks down to the ice. Jungkook had been very, very late for class that
afternoon.

And Jimin had put the flyer on the studio door. He’d put three of them.

Jungkook balled his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, and walked over.

Jimin spotted him more quickly than he expected, eyes catching his over Namjoon’s
shoulder. His face lit up immediately, and Jungkook’s chest did about five million
somersaults at once. Okay, so maybe Jimin did want him here-

Suddenly Jimin stood in front of him. His shirt was halfway untucked, hanging loosely
around his waist, and a lock of hair had dislodged itself from the gel and hairspray, curling
over his forehead and down to his nose. His eyelids gave off the faintest shimmer of gold and
his cheeks were flushed a sweet, petal pink, and he was smiling so very, very big.

Jungkook curled his hands tighter into his hoodie pocket.

“Jungkook-ah, you came,” Jimin said, a little breathless, and he hugged him.

Jimin was warm and slim and his actual body was pressed against Jungkook’s, and he
smelled sweet for someone so sweaty, and Jungkook was going to melt into the ground.

“Of course he did, how could he miss all those flyers?” said Chansook, shooking Jungkook a
grin from behind Jimin. Jimin’s ears pinked and he shooed her away.

Of course I came, Jungkook thought. Of course of course.

Jimin turned back to Jungkook, pushing his hair from his forehead, though it fell right back
into place. “Did you like the show?”

“You were amazing, hyung,” Jungkook said, and immediately snapped his mouth shut. He’d
meant to say, yes, I enjoyed it very much , but everything about this interaction was short-
circuiting his brain. He coughed. “I mean- you both were amazing.”

But Jimin positively beamed, face glowing from all the attention and praise, from the post-
dance high. Park Jimin was radiant, and Jungkook’s chest felt too small to contain his rapidly
expanding heart.

“Jungkook-ah, you should come out with us,” Jimin said, gesturing to his friends behind him.
“A lot of the bars along the street are having special events for the festival, you should
come.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said, hesitating. He thought of the dance practice he’d promised Hoseok
he’d be at. They were going over a really difficult move, and the show was so soon. “I’m- I
don’t think I’m wearing enough green.”

Jimin smiled, leaning in slightly. “Your tongue is very green.”

Jungkook felt himself flush to his toes. Park Jimin did not just talk about his tongue. He
couldn’t have. That was absurd. “I’m- I- some little girls gave me a lollipop.”

“Aw,” Jimin said, tilting his head, and Jungkook’s face burned harder. He smiled. “Will you
come?”

“I-” You shouldn’t, you have practice, you don’t know any of Jimin’s friends- “Okay.”

Jimin’s smile broaded, eyes disappearing into his cheeks, spectacularly offsetting the
imposing sleekness he’d displayed while dancing. “Okay?”

Jungkook was going to have heart palpitations.

“Okay.”

It turned out that missing a dance practice came with repercussions.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said Monday night, panting and panting, looking at Hoseok after
everyone else had left for the night. This routine was their most difficult yet, and he’d made
Jungkook the lead. He’d said it was because Jungkook was the best, and because he trusted
him, but Jungkook was slightly convinced that Hoseok just wanted him dead. “Why are you
doing this to me?”

“I’m pushing you to be your very best,” Hoseok said, patting him on the shoulder. “And
maybe this is what happens when people skip very important practices to go drinking with
Irish dancers?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook said again, voice on the edge of a whine.

Hoseok grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to show up Saturday, either.”

Jungkook was paying a high price for missing practice, but Saturday had been like- a dream.
A weird, alcohol-infused dream where Park Jimin somehow remained by his side the entire
night, pulling Jungkook along by the elbow, shoulder to shoulder and hands brushing hands
in fleeting, light touches.

“Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin had said, standing beside Jungkook at one of the tall tables in a
colorful bar. It was a little early in the afternoon to be drinking, but the spirit of St. Patrick’s
day seemed to encourage it. Jimin pulled Kim Namjoon seemingly out of thin air by the shirt
sleeve. “You have to meet Jungkookie.”

Jungkook knew who Namjoon was, mostly because Jimin had mentioned him before, and
also because he had something of a reputation in the music department, where Jungkook had
been thinking of taking classes.

Namjoon smiled, easy and warm and not nearly as intimidating as Jungkook had somehow
thought he might be. “Hi, Jungkook-ssi.”

“No, no, no,” Jimin said before Jungkook could respond. “You’re his hyung, okay? We’re all
friends.” He threw an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and grinned, warm and close.

Namjoon shrugged amiably, and Jungkook felt himself give a tentative smile, and suddenly
Namjoon was his hyung and there were drinks in front of all of them and Jimin was still
pressed to his side and any thoughts Jungkook might have had about dance practice were
lost.

“Show’s in two weeks,” Hoseok reminded him, tapping him on the arm, which was why
Jungkook found himself in the dance room early the next morning, hoping to have the dance
down before his first class.

Except he couldn’t get one particular transition just right. Jungkook considered just throwing
himself on the floor and finding a new passion, something calm, like watercolor painting.
But any kind of art became frustrating when his perfectionist tendencies kicked in.

He turned to switch off the music, ready for a quick break, and froze as he met a pair of eyes
watching him from the doorway.

Jimin’s face pinked.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin said when Jungkook switched the music off. His voice was loud in the
silence, and he ducked his head. “I just heard music and the door wasn’t closed all the way,
so I peeked inside, and-”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said. He grabbed his water bottle, hands suddenly weird and jittery.

“Um,” Jimin said, a little shyly, but then he slipped into the room. He had shorts and a loose
t-shirt on, not as form-fitting as what he’d been wearing on Saturday, but his presence alone
was enough to make Jungkook’s mouth go suddenly dry.
He took a gulp of his water. He was very aware, all of a sudden, of how gross and sweaty he
must look in comparison. “What’s up, hyung?”

“I was just on my way to a practice session,” Jimin said. “But that looked really good,
Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. Little butterflies zoomed around his stomach at the
compliment, and he wished he could invite Jimin to have his practice session with him. But
that wouldn’t work, because Jimin did Irish dance, and Jungkook was working on a modern
dance piece. “Thanks,” he said, and he set his water bottle back down. “Hoseok’s giving me
extra drills to make up for missing practice Saturday.”

“You had practice Saturday?” Jimin said, looking at him.

Jungkook gave a half-shrug and looked away. “I was supposed to.”

He looked back up when Jimin moved toward him, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“But you didn’t go, because you came to see me.”

Jungkook felt a blush beginning in the roots of his hair. “Well, yeah.”

Jimin’s grin widened, a dimple appearing on one of his cheeks, and Jungkook looked away
again as Jimin stepped closer.

“Sorry I cut into your dance time,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But you still looked
really good.”

“Not good enough, though,” Jungkook said. His heart was beating very hard, Jimin’s smile
too much to contain in this room, in his body. He’d seen so much of that smile on Saturday
night, and perhaps that was only making this moment worse. “There’s a step I still can’t get
right.”

Jimin’s face slipped into something slightly more critical, because Jimin, of all people, knew
there was a world of difference between looking good and getting it right.

“Do it again,” Jimin said, and- well, okay.

Jungkook turned the music back on, feeling stupid and jittery. Perfection was his aim, as it
always was to an annoying degree, but the most he felt he could hope for right now was not
to fall on his face in front of Jimin.

Fortunately, as the music carried him through the motions, he did not. Unfortunately, he still
couldn’t get the step quite right. It wasn’t terribly obvious, and it wasn’t entirely wrong, but it
wasn’t as entirely effortless as Jungkook wanted it to look

Jimin looked at Jungkook thoughtfully. He tapped a finger on his chin. “You know,
something Chansook and I do, when we can’t get a step right, is teach each other.”

Jungkook pushed some sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“One of the best ways to learn something is to teach another person, right?” Jimin said. “We
slow it down and teach it to each other. It can help to watch someone else do it.” Jimin
paused. “In theory, I guess it’s not too different from doing it in front of the mirror, but we
catch each other’s mistakes, too.”

“Oh,” said Jungkook, mind working slowly over Jimin’s words. None of his teammates were
there, and he didn’t have a dance partner, so that meant-

Jimin took a shy step forward, bouncing on the pads of his feet. He pressed his heels together
and looked at Jungkook expectantly.

Jungkook felt suddenly stressed. “You won’t know if I’m doing it wrong.”

“But you weren’t doing it wrong ,” said Jimin, mouth quirking upwards. “You’re just trying
to make sure it’s right.”

Jungkook’s limbs felt a little detached from his body as Jimin stood in front of him. His t-
shirt hung over a compact frame and tiny silver hoops hung from his ears, hair pushed back
on his forehead, and he looked so exceptionally good that suddenly Jungkook doubted he
could recall any of the dance at all, never mind this one sequence.

“Um, alright,” Jungkook said, pushing his hair back again. It felt damp and stringy. Jimin was
still looking at him.

“So- you start in this position.” He moved his feet and watched as Jimin mimicked him.
“Then you move your arm- like this.” He moved, and Jimin followed as he counted off the
beats.

It was easy to do it when it was done slow. It was doing it in time with the music that made it
so difficult. His body just didn’t want to move that way that quickly.

“-two, three -” Jungkook lifted both arms to the right, finally beginning to relax into the
movements.

Jimin mimicked him again. A tiny giggle escaped his lips.

“Sorry, not laughing at you,” Jimin said when Jungkook met his eyes. “It’s just- it feels so
weird to dance and move my arms so much.” He followed Jungkook as he moved to the next
position, smiling to himself.

“I can’t imagine dancing and not moving my arms,” Jungkook said, slightly amused.

“If I hadn’t seen Riverdance on TV when I was a kid, maybe I’d do modern, like you,” Jimin
said as he followed Jungkook, twisting his hips in a way that Jungkook was also aware was
not required by Irish dance. “My mother had me enrolled in ballet before that, just a little
kid’s class, but Riverdance was so big in the 90s, and I liked all the jumping. I used to
pretend to do it by jumping on the couch. My mother didn’t like that so much.” He smiled to
himself again. “So when I begged her to find me a teacher, she did. It wasn’t as easy to find
as a teacher for other forms of dance, but she did it.”
“Your mother sounds nice,” Jungkook said.

Jimin looked pleased. “Yeah,” he said. “She could have just bought me a trampoline, you
know?”

For someone who didn’t usually dance moving his arms, Jimin mirrored Jungkook almost
flawlessly. Jungkook guided them all the way through, and when he made it to the end, Jimin
was grinning again.

“Hey, we did it,” Jimin said, looking a little amazed at himself. Jungkook almost wanted to
remind him that he was an Irish dance world champion, but the look on Jimin’s face was so
sweet that Jungkook didn’t quite have the heart. He dropped his hands to his sides.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his arms out. “It’s not so hard when it’s done slowly, I guess.”

Jimin nodded. “Now teach me faster.”

Jungkook stopped. “Faster?”

“Yeah,” Jimin said. “Now that we’ve gone slow, we have to speed it up.”

Jungkook nodded. He licked his lips. “Okay.”

“You won’t be doing it at half-speed on stage, Jungkook-ah,” said Jimin, getting into
position.

It was better, doing it faster. It wasn’t full speed, but as Jungkook counted out the beats, he
felt himself glide over the difficult part with less difficulty. It was Jimin who ran into trouble.
He frowned as he stared at Jungkook’s movements.

“Relax your shoulders,” Jungkook said.

Jimin eased them very slightly.

“ Relax them,” Jungkook said. “It’ll make it easier.”

Jimin tried again as he followed Jungkook’s next movement, but he was still stiff. He
overcompensated by lifting his arms too high.

Jungkook laughed. Without thinking, he reached out and put his hands on the crooks of
Jimin’s elbows. He lowered them slightly, hands on warm skin he tried not to think about.
But, if anything, Jimin only seemed to tense up more.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said, pulling back. He should have asked before he’d touched him. Even
though Jimin had spent the night hanging off of his shoulder on Saturday didn’t mean he
should just assume, that in a professional environment it was okay to-

“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” Jimin said quickly, and to Jungkook’s alarm, he shifted slightly
closer. “I just- I feel so awkward using my arms like this, I don’t know how to use them
right.”
“You’re not using them wrong, you just need to…hold yourself less rigidly,” Jungkook said.

“Less rigidly,” Jimin repeated. He shifted his arms higher again.

“No, lower,” said Jungkook.

Jimin lifted them slightly higher.

“Lower,” Jungkook said. He made as if to grab Jimin’s arms again but didn’t.

Jimin lifted his arms even higher, looking Jungkook right in the eyes. His elbows were
practically level with the top of his head.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, a laugh finally spilling out of him. At last, he let
himself grab Jimin’s arms and pull them back down.

“Oops,” Jimin said. He was still staring at Jungkook, and Jungkook didn’t understand, or
know what to do about it. He didn’t really know anything.

“Okay, um,” Jungkook said, momentarily struggling to remember where they’d left off from.
“Let’s just start from the top.”

Maybe it was the way Jimin was still looking at him, but instead of letting Jimin mirror him,
he reached forward himself and arranged Jimin’s arms so they were in the perfect starting
position. When he looked up at Jimin’s face, Jimin was smiling at him, close-lipped.

Jungkook’s heart beat hard as he pulled away. If he tried to dance at normal speed he’d be out
of breath in no time. He was so dumb. “Okay then. Let’s start again.”

Jungkook, miraculously, carried himself through the steps as they took it a few beats faster
with Jimin standing right there.

“See?” Jimin said. He gave Jungkook a soft punch in the shoulder. “It’s working.”

Jungkook touched the spot on his shoulder, absently, with the tips of his fingers.

Jimin was looking at him, and Jungkook immediately dropped his hand, Looking away,
trying to keep his face from going red, he said, quickly, “I think I should go through it one
more time before doing it for real.”

Jimin nodded. He was looking at Jungkook’s hand. “A little faster.”

So they went faster. And Jungkook was getting it. Really getting it. He’d tell Hoseok about it,
if he didn’t think Hoseok would endlessly tease him about Jimin helping him.

As they progressed through the song, Jimin’s arms began to tense up again. Jungkook
reached forward and put his hands on his shoulders, squeezing them slightly. They were all
tight muscle and warm skin beneath his shirt. Relax , he thought, unsure if he was trying to
communicate that to Jimin or himself.
Jimin stared back at him, and for a moment, his shoulders did relax. Jungkook began to pull
away, but the moment his hands left his shirt, Jimin’s tensed his shoulders so severely that
they nearly touched his earlobes.

Jungkook broke off counting the beats and let out a laugh that echoed off the mirrors. “What
are you doing, hyung?”

Jimin tilted his head. He didn’t relax his shoulders. He looked like a little turtle peeking out
of his shell.

“Hyung,” Jungkook laughed again. He put his hands back on Jimin’s shoulders.

They relaxed. Entirely.

“Okay, stay like that,” Jungkook said and pulled away.

Jimin’s shoulders tensed again.

“Hyung!”

Jungkook was laughing, because he didn’t understand Jimin at all, but he looked entirely cute
like that, head scrunched between his shoulders.

“It’s hard to relax, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin said, lips turning downward into a slight pout.

Jungkook put his hands back on his shoulders, and Jimin relaxed again.

Jungkook didn’t take his hands away, Jimin warm beneath his palms. Slowly, tentatively,
feeling his heart beginning to beat in his throat, Jungkook started to rub little circles into
Jimin’s shoulders with his thumbs.

Jimin’s shoulders actually drooped, his perfect posture sagging beneath Jungkook’s thumbs.
It wasn’t exactly what Jungkook was going for, but Jimin’s muscles were, actually, quite stiff.

“Relaxed now?” Jungkook asked after a few minutes. He could stand here and massage
Jimin’s shoulders all day, but he didn’t want to get weird.

Jimin didn’t look like he thought it was weird. Instead he looked up at Jungkook with sleepy,
soft eyes, and smiled.

“I think so,” he said. “You take good care of your students, Jungkook-ah.”

And- okay.

Okay.

Jungkook’s heart began to pound in his rib cage, because this wasn’t something he’d do with
anyone else in the practice room. Not with any of his teammates, not with Hoseok. He’d
given massages, plenty of them, but not quite like this.
Not like with Jimin, who’d been looking at his hands. Jimin, who had touched him like he
couldn’t stand to be physically apart on Saturday night-

Slowly, Jungkook pulled his hands away from Jimin’s shoulders. They didn’t tense up again.

“I think I can try it at normal speed now,” Jungkook said, his tongue somewhere in his throat.

Jimin nodded, some of the haze clearing from his eyes. He grabbed the remote to the stereo
and held it up. Jungkook took a deep breath.

It wasn’t a perfect run-through, but as he let the music soak into his limbs and the beats guide
his way, it was better than it had been before. And when he did it again, it was even better.

After the third time, he buzzed with something almost akin to euphoria as he made it through
the trickiest part, the part he’d set out to accomplish in the first place. He met his own
flushed, sweaty gaze in the mirror and grinned widely. The music came to an end and all that
was left was the sound of his own heavy breathing.

He turned to the side, and he could feel the sweat dripping down his back and he knew his
face was glistening and his panting was unattractive, but Jimin was a dancer too, and when
Jungkook met his gaze he found Jimin smiling so big that his kind-of-euphoric feeling turned
into actual euphoria.

“Hey,” he said, amidst the colors running through his brain. “I think I did it.”

“You did do it,” Jimin said, setting the remote down beside the table and bounding over to
him. For a split-second, Jungkook thought Jimin was going to hug him.

He stopped short. “Ah,” he said, and punched Jungkook on the shoulder again, eyes little
crescents. “See, my method worked.” He was smiling wide enough that Jungkook noticed
how one of his front teeth was slightly more crooked than the one beside it. Jungkook wished
Jimin had hugged him.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said. He was still breathing heavily, but his heart had not calmed in the
slightest. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jimin said, but he looked pleased.

“I need to practice more, but-” Jungkook glanced at the clock near the door. “I need to
shower before class.”

Jimin nodded slowly. He grabbed his bag from where he’d left it on the floor. “Yeah, I’d
meant to come and practice for a little while, like I do every morning, but,” he broke off and
looked at Jungkook. He smiled, almost shyly. “You distracted me.”

Jungkook’s stomach flipped in a series of tiny somersaults. He had no idea what to do with
that look, with those words. This entire morning sort of felt surreal. “Sorry.”

Jimin laughed. “What are you sorry for?” he said. “You’re a good dancer.”
Jungkook just looked at him. The somersaults in his stomach had evolved into front flips. He
felt himself smiling in the way that showed his teeth. “Thanks, Jiminie-hyung.”

Jimin’s cheeks pinked, suddenly, and he looked away from Jungkook’s face. He tugged on his
beanie with both hands and said, “’Course.”

Jimin wasn’t moving, and neither was Jungkook. He really wouldn’t mind standing around
in the practice room all day with Jimin, but Jungkook really had to take a shower and he
knew they both had to get to class soon.

“Um, so-”

“Jungkook-ah, I wanted to ask you-”

They both broke off. Jungkook’s brain zeroed in on Jimin’s words. Jimin’s cheeks went
pinker.

“What?” said Jungkook.

“You first,” Jimin said, eyes flickering away from Jungkook’s.

“You wanted to ask me something?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Jimin said quickly. His cheeks were two patches of intense pink, like the
petals of a cherry blossom, and he was beginning to inch toward the door. “It’s dumb, never
mind.”

But Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his chest with something urgent. “No it’s not, what
was it?”

“Nothing,” he said again, nearly at the door.

Jungkook felt a strange sense of panic, as if he was trying to cup water in his hands, like he
couldn’t stop it from leaking through his fingers. He wanted to grab Jimin and stop him, but
he had a feeling his touch wouldn’t be so welcome now. “I- have to go. See you later.”

“Hyung, wait-”

Jimin was out the door, lithe and quick like the dancer he was.

Jungkook stood in the middle of the empty practice room, heart pounding painfully in his
chest and feeling like he just missed a chance he didn’t even know he had.

-
Jungkook didn’t see Jimin at all the rest of that day or the next, but when he got to practice
early that night he heard a knock on the practice room door. The person on the other side
pushed the door open slowly, and Jungkook’s heart leapt into his chest for the space of a
second before he recognized Chansook, Jimin’s dance partner.

Her eyes met his with recognition, and she smiled. “Oh, hi!” Chansook had a sweet, pretty
face. She and Jimin complemented one another well. “Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be
here. I’m just taking these down.” She held up a fistful of flyers promoting the St. Patrick’s
day festival.

“There aren’t any left here,” Jungkook said. Jimin had hung three, he remembered. He was
pretty sure they were all still in his school bag.

“Oh, okay,” she said. Then she looked at Jungkook and said, a little offhandedly, “I wasn’t
sure if Jimin might have plastered the mirrors with them to make sure you’d seen them.”

Jungkook blinked. “Oh,” he said, a little choked.

“See you around, Jungkook!”

Chansook closed the door and was gone, and Jungkook kind of felt like all the air was
leaking out of his lungs and being replaced with something sweet and electric that might just
kill him if something wasn’t done about it soon.

Jungkook got to the practice building early again the next morning.

Maybe Jimin wasn’t going to ask him what Jungkook had thought Jimin was going to ask
him, but it didn’t matter now, because Jungkook had to do it. He had to take this into his own
hands and try.

Maybe it was strange of him to press his ear to the door of every practice room, but he knew
Jimin practiced early, and he knew only one of two people would be dancing to music with
bagpipes.

Jungkook paused for the space of two seconds before he pushed the door open without
knocking. He took a deep breath. His heart was beating in his fingertips.

Jimin nearly fell flat on the floor when he turned mid-step and caught sight of him.

“Jungkook,” he said, breathless from dancing. “What are you-”

“Hyung,” Jungkook started. His heart was in his throat and on the tip of his tongue and all
over the blazing skin of his face. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Jimin went red to the roots of his hair.

The sound of applause roared in Jungkook’s ears.

It was a Friday night show, which meant all the seats were packed, which meant that when
they performed their most difficult dance – the one Jungkook had spent nearly every waking
moment in the past week practicing to perfection – everyone was there to see him not mess it
up.

Accomplishment surged through Jungkook so strikingly that he might have felt overwhelmed
if he hadn’t also been half-numb with relief.

He felt his teammates on either side of him take his hands for the final bow, and the
audience’s standing ovation might have been worth Hoseok pushing them to their limits.

Hoseok hooked his arm around his neck and pulled their heads together as they stumbled off
stage. “You did great, Jungkook-ah!”

“Hyung, I’m sweaty,” Jungkook whined because he didn’t know what else to say and
Hoseok’s words made him feel so ridiculously happy.

“We’re all sweaty,” Hoseok said, and rubbed his damp head against Jungkook’s for good
measure. Jungkook whined again, but his cheeks were kind of hurting from smiling.

Backstage, he shucked off his dance shirt and slipped on a dry white t-shirt. People were
patting him on the back, his dance mates shouting at him and at each other. Everything in him
was running at a million miles per hour.

Finally, after delivering a few back slaps of his own, he made his way out the side stage door.
He didn’t have to look far.

“Jungkook-ah!”

It was lucky that he’d made it down the stairs before Jimin’s hands were on either side of his
face, crowding him entirely and smiling so widely and brightly they may as well rename a
star after him.

“You were so perfect,” Jimin said, voice low enough for only Jungkook to hear, and then he
pulled Jungkook’s face down and kissed him hard on the mouth.

A wolf whistle that sounded suspiciously like Taehyung’s came from behind him, and when
Jimin pulled away, looking up at him with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes, Jungkook felt so
overwhelmingly happy he swayed on his feet a little.
“Okay, give the man some room to breathe.” Taehyung’s voice came from behind Jimin. He
grabbed the back of Jimin’s shirt and pulled him backward, out of Jungkook's grasp. He
looked at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow. “You know, your boyfriend is really shameless, he
told everyone sitting around us that he was, quote, ‘dating the hot one’, unquote.”

Jimin looked affronted. “And then you told all of them that the hot one was your roommate!”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung said. “I can’t have everyone thinking you see him in his underwear
more than I do.”

Jungkook felt his face burn as Jimin opened his mouth to argue, because even though they
hadn’t gone anywhere near that far yet, Jungkook had a feeling that what was about to come
out of Jimin’s mouth would not be something he’d like the strangers around them to hear.

“Nice to know I’m nothing more than a nice body to both of you,” he interjected, face hot.

“A hot body and dancing entertainment,” Taehyung said, and Jimin – the traitor – melted into
a laugh.

Jimin was wearing a soft yellow sweatshirt, and Jungkook wanted to take Jimin’s hand and
tuck him against his side so that everyone would know he was dating the cute one.

As if he could read his mind, Jimin took care of that himself, slipping his fingers between
Jungkook’s and pressing beside him, soft and close. Taehyung wandered away, spotting
another friend on Jungkook’s team.

Jimin looked up at Jungkook, eyes suddenly calm. “Seriously, Jungkook,” he said. “You were
amazing. Flawless. You worked so hard.”

Jungkook felt his face going hot again. He ducked his head and kissed Jimin’s cheek, just
quick, because he was still a little shy about kissing Jimin. Because he still couldn’t quite
believe that Jimin agreed to go out with him, and that they were dating, and even though they
hadn’t discussed being boyfriends, Taehyung had called Jimin his boyfriend and neither of
them had argued against it, so they must be boyfriends.

Park Jimin was his boyfriend and he’d just nailed his toughest dance show yet. This had to be
the definition of feeling on top of the world.

“I was watching your feet, and you got every step,” Jimin said. He’d know, too, because even
though they’d only been dating a month, they’d spent more hours in the practice room going
over this performance than they spent going on dates. Jimin had gotten the arm movements
down, now that he didn’t have to play any silly tricks to get Jungkook to touch him. It didn’t
take anything at all for Jungkook to reach forward and turn their dance practice into kissing
practice, some days.

Jungkook kissed Jimin’s cheek again, because he didn’t know how to adequately thank him
with words and because Jimin liked kisses. Jimin had not been very shy about expressing that
since they’d started dating. He wasn’t often shy about much.
Except for when Jungkook had made the executive decision to ask him out first.

“But I was going to ask you that,” he’d said, collapsed on the dance floor in a blushing heap
after Jungkook had asked if he’d like to go on a date with him, and Jimin had choked out a
solitary, strangled, yes.

“I couldn’t wait,” Jungkook said, his own face practically a wildfire danger zone.

Jimin let out another strangled noise from the floor. Then he said, “Namjoon gave me a pep
talk and everything.”

“Oh,” Jungkook had said, and then he was smiling, smiling, smiling.

“Hey,” Jimin said now, a lot less blushy and much more confident. He tugged on Jungkook’s
hand. “Kook-ah. I want to take you on a date to celebrate.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said. Now that the show was over and his schedule was a lot more open,
they could go on lots of dates. So many dates. He refused to acknowledge that the semester
would end soon and final exams were coming, which meant studying, because all he wanted
to do was go on dates with Park Jimin.

Jimin tugged on his hand again, toward the exit.

“Right now?” Jungkook asked as he went. He was still kind of sweaty and gross.

“Yes, right now,” Jimin said. He pulled him outside into the sweet spring evening, the sky
still light enough that the streetlamps weren’t yet on. It was quiet out here, and Jimin kissed
him on the sidewalk, soft and warm. Jungkook didn’t know if his heart would ever get used
to it.

“I don’t want to wait,” Jimin said as he pulled away, eyes dancing.

“Alright,” Jungkook said, slipping his hand back into Jimin’s. He couldn’t argue with that.
End Notes

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