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I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.
The first thing that tips Jisung off is the strappy heels on the feet of most of the women in the room. (Except for one girl with short hair, cuffed jeans, and an eyebrow slit. Though Jisung doesn’t like to stereotype, he’s guessing she probably came here with her girlfriend.)
The second thing that tips Jisung off is that he seems to be the only person that thought ‘Salsa Class’ meant the food, not the dance. Which is also why he’s the only person in the room that’s clutching a bag of tortilla chips to his chest like his life depends on it.
A side door to the room (dance studio, more likely) opens and Jisung looks up from his shoes and sees a man in considerably tight pants and shiny dance shoes walk to the front of the studio. He claps his hands once to get everyone’s attention (though he’s already got Jisung’s) and says, “Alright everybody, welcome to salsa for beginners!” His announcement is met with light applause and the man smiles.
Oh fuck, he’s got a good smile, Jisung thinks, and he can already tell he’s going to embarrass himself in front of this guy.
“I’m Minho, and I’ll be teaching you the basics for the first couple weeks, then once you get the hang of it, I’ll bring in one of my co-workers, who happens to be a salsa expert,” Minho says. His eyes scan the room, sizing up the dancers. Jisung knows the exact moment Minho’s eyes find him because Minho lets out a snort at the sight of his bag of chips.
Well, at least I got the embarrassing myself in front of a hot guy out of the way, Jisung thinks.
“Okay, let’s partner up, then we’ll get dancing. Vamanos!” Minho says loudly, clapping his hands again. Jisung sighs and shuffles to the side of the studio and shoves his chips into a cubby.
~
I think I’m getting the hang of this, Jisung thinks. He bits his lip as he looks down at his feet, concentrating on the footwork. Right-left-right left-right-left, just follow the pattern. He barely notices the girl he’s dancing with or that he’s squeezing the life out of her hand.
“Ow!” his partner squeaks after the pressure becomes unbearable. She jerks her hand out of Jisung’s grip and steps away from him. Jisung’s face falls as he watches her clutch her hand and massage it.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Jisung says, stepping closer to her. She takes a step back as he comes forward. Something pulls in his chest. He stops moving and asks, “Are you okay?”
She inhales deep through her nose and nods her head a few times. “Yeah, I’m good,” she says, but she’s still wringing out her hand like it hurts.
“Hey, what’s going on over here?” Minho swoops over and lays his eyes on Jisung’s partner holding her injured hand. He raises an eyebrow. “That gonna be okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, I think so.”
“We’ve got a couple of ice packs in the break room, I’ll grab you one. Might be better to rest it for a bit,” Minho says. The girl nods and he flies out the side door of the studio and returns with an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel. He hands it to her and guides her to the side of the room where she can sit and ice in peace.
“You need a new partner?” Minho asks as he walks back over. Jisung jumps at his voice.
Jisung looks around the studio. “Yeah, but everyone’s got one already,” he says, fiddling with his fingers. He looks down at his scuffed shoes. Even in a partnering dance class, he manages to be the odd one out.
“I’ll dance with you.”
Jisung looks up at Minho, surprised. “But – but you’re the teacher. And I – I’m not very good at this,” Jisung sputters. Minho inches closer and holds out a hand.
“That’s why I’m here, silly. I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” Minho responds. He tilts his head the slightest bit as he smiles, and Jisung’s knees start to feel a little wobbly. He cracks what he hopes is a lofty, attractive smile and takes Minho’s hand.
“Okay.”
~
“Good job everyone! See you back here next week!” Minho calls as the class files through the door. Jisung bends down to grab his chips from the cubby he’d shoved them in. When he stands up, he nearly collides with Minho, who’s standing right behind him.
“Jeez, I almost broke your perfect face! Don’t scare people like that, man!” Jisung says indignantly as he clutches the bag of tortilla chips close to his chest again.
Minho’s lips contort into a smirk. He tilts his head and asks, “Did you just say my face was perfect?”
“Uh,” Jisung hesitates. He shifts his weight between his feet. “Well, I did. From a cosmetic standpoint, your face is pretty much perfect, with those stupidly sharp cheekbones. Some people might have a problem with your lips, but personally, I like them, I think they’re quite nice. Look soft and kissable –” Jisung purses his lips together to make himself shut up. Nope, now I’ve gone and embarrassed myself.
Minho looks utterly amused after hearing Jisung’s rant, with one hand covering his mouth and his shoulders shaking like he’s trying so very hard to contain his laughter. It must be too much to hold back because after a moment he bursts into full-on laughter. Even while he’s embarrassed, Jisung smiles a tiny bit because Minho’s laughter could probably cure cancer.
“So, I take it you’re okay with me being very obviously attracted to you?” Jisung says once Minho’s standing straight up and wipes a tear from his eye (yes, he’d laughed so hard he cried).
Minho nods. “Yeah. I mean, as long as you’re okay with the possibility of me being attracted to the guy that brought tortilla chips to my dance class,” he says and starts fiddling with his hands. Jisung’s not sure Minho knows he’s making sweater paws out of his shirt, or if it’s a habit of his. If it’s a habit, that is so fucking cute.
Jisung grins. “That’s cool with me.” He shifts the bag of chips to one arm and holds out a hand to Minho. “Wanna come over to my place then?”
Minho grins so wide, his eyes start smiling too. “Absolutely,” he says and takes Jisung’s outstretched hand, locking their fingers together. He places a soft peck on Jisung’s cheek as they walk toward the door, and Jisung’s skin heats up where Minho kissed it. “As long as you have salsa to go with those chips.”