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Inosuke loved to dance.
It was his passion ever since he was young, moving his body in expressive ways to not only distract his mind from that far away past, but to make his heart pump in thrill. It was to test the limits of his body, his skill. It was to make others smile and to make him feel triumphant whenever he received applause for a performance. It didn’t matter where he was, what town or house or family, there was always a studio for him to run off to when he wanted to feel something good again. There was always a new beat to step to, a new style to form his body around, a place for him to really feel like himself.
He met Tanjirou because of this passion of his.
A man he may not have met otherwise.
It was at a dance recital for his younger sister; they used the same building Inosuke frequented for his own practice as their venue. He’d just finished up going over a piece of choreography for himself and was ready to leave when he saw him. At first glance, he was a pretty face with deep crimson hair, the same color as the scar on his forehead that was bared proudly due to his slicked back hairstyle. He even wore hanafuda earrings long enough to dangle above his shoulders, the green sweater wrapped snug around his upper body, and a pink flower patterned bag in his hands.
It was a chance meeting. They bumped into each other in the hallway since he’d been standing in front of the door like a clueless dope, frantically looking through his bag for his sister’s ballet shoes. Inosuke would have kept walking if it had been any other day. If this were any other stranger that wasn’t also pretty good looking and already so endearing in the way he flushed and apologized for being in his way. He wasn’t really a people person, but he hung out for a while and helped them look for the girl’s shoes. Partly because he felt bad for swinging the door open in his face, but mostly because the other man’s cherry eyes made his heart jump and swing just like it would when he danced.
That had never happened before.
They eventually realized that she’d forgotten them where they’d done their warm ups, and Tanjirou was deeply embarrassed to have dragged Inosuke into it, but...he didn’t mind much, in the end. He wasn’t one to think things like 'well it brought them together' because in truth, he’d never expected to run into him ever again after that day.
However, as it turns out, while back then, he may have been more willing to let the chance meeting go and forget it ever happened, Tanjirou would never let him.
The second time they ran into each other at the studio was because he was caught staring from down the hall. Apparently his sister’s classes had been moved to that specific building around that time and the hanafuda wearing man was kind enough to always accompany the young woman whenever her boyfriend couldn’t. He never stayed long, but at times would stand in the hallway and watch before taking his leave to find lunch while he waited for her session to end. That day, he just happened to look to his right, down the hall toward the stairwell Inosuke used and as soon as his red eyes found him coming through the door, he lit up in surprised glee and waved a hand in his direction. Which honestly startled him more than he’d ever like to admit. He’d made his way over to talk to him as if they were old friends, as if he’d known Inosuke for years , and that was how it always went from then on. Whenever they saw each other, Tanjirou was first to talk to him. Tanjirou was always approaching him and asking how he was, what sort of dances he’d practiced that day, what he and his sister were up to and so on and so forth.
Then, after a while, Inosuke thought it was about time he initiated too.
He didn’t see why not, considering the red haired Kamado would come looking for him nearly on instinct anyway, now that he knew he came to the studio around the same time as his sister. He always spent his time in a private room, by himself with his own space, his own laptop filled with music to dance to. He practiced hard without any eyes directed at him, but...a certain pair of dark cherry eyes watching didn’t sound too bad. So...he invited him to hang out in his room while he waited for his sister’s class to finish.
Eventually, Tanjirou started coming to the studio just to see him.
No sister, no pink bags for him to hold, no missing ballet shoes.
Just...them. Just an empty room, surrounded by mirrors and a wooden floor. Inosuke showing off and feeling his heart skip even when the dance was done, just knowing that it was his body and the way it moved that put that pleasured grin on the red-head’s face. But most of all, it was him alone that made Tanjirou stay, what compelled him to one day kiss him when it was time for them to part ways and see each other again in the future.
Inosuke loved to dance.
After a few months of flirting back and forth, pointless arguments over even the smallest of things, learning what it was that made the red-head tick, fire like hands on his skin, and many, many tender kisses, he learned that he really loved Tanjirou too.
They’d dated about a year before they moved in together. It was a small place, with a cramped living room and a tiny kitchen, but it was a space perfect for them regardless. It was the first home Inosuke had that didn’t just feel like a box built in order to contain him. There was never the impulse to escape and find his way to the studio in a desperate attempt to feel something. There, he had comfort, he had safety. There, he had Tanjirou. He had his home cooked meals, his hand to hold while sitting on the couch, his head on his shoulder, his body pressed close in the middle of the night. A place to trust his heart and his dreams.
While he still held his passion for dance, going to the studio to practice, or signing up for competitions and duels was no longer an excuse to get out and go somewhere he felt comfortable.
Because he was comfortable. He was happy.
“Why the long face?”
Until, every once in a while, he wasn’t.
“There was a group in my room today so I couldn’t get any practice in.” Inosuke slouched on the couch with a pout, sinking into the cushion and further away from Tanjirou’s line of sight. He’d just gotten home from picking up his sister from her class, which was something he continued to do even after all this time. It had been about two years since they met now; Nezuko was taking a more advanced dance class and the studio building Inosuke also frequented for his own time was getting popular. He’d gone that day while he was alone to practice a new number for an upcoming contest but was devastated to find out that another group had taken over the room he’d made all his memories in.
This town was where he’d finally settled in. So that room had been his for years. It was where he’d practiced to win his first competition in the area. It was where he’d finally landed his first, stable backflip from solid ground. Where he twisted his ankle in the process of learning it. It was where he’d danced for Tanjirou for the first time. Where he’d kissed him for the first time. Where they’d done some... other things for the first time. It didn’t matter to him if other people used it while he wasn’t there but seeing it with his own eyes was a whole other story!
So he made a scene, of course. Got himself in trouble and kicked off the property.
The only reason he wasn’t banned from returning was because of his loyalty.
But that wasn’t the point.
“Why didn’t you use another room?” Tanjirou asked him this as he circled around the couch. He wore a smile as patient as ever. It made Inosuke’s stomach flutter despite the mood he’d previously been in. Though, even that was already getting better just by having his boyfriend’s presence back in the apartment. He’d been gone nearly all day.
“I was too pissed.” He huffed out. “That’s my room. They should have known!”
Tanjirou chuckled and took a moment to access him up and down. His disheveled hair, which he’d been pulling on and running his fingers through all day up until that point. How he was only wearing a pair of black joggers while moping around, since he hated wearing shirts at home unless he absolutely had to. He could practically feel his eyes on him, before the couch dipped down under his knee as he placed himself beside him. He then put an arm out across his chest and combed back some of his hair behind his ear. It felt nice, as if he could forget about everything that happened. Though at the same time, he almost hated feeling like he was a beast that needed a few strokes on the head to be tamed. No matter how much he liked it.
“Right...how dare they?” Tanjirou then said, eliciting a hum in response from the shirtless man. It didn’t sound sarcastic like he was trying to play along, though he was sure that was still the case. He always played along with his pig headed and obnoxious attitude, no matter how ridiculous and that was one thing out of many that made him love him so much. Unlike everyone else in the world who resorted to turning their backs and telling him to be more realistic. No matter how crazy he was, Tanjirou was always there for him. “You wanna try dancing here? I could move the coffee table.”
Inosuke snorted. “Not enough room here, stupid. That’s why I go to the studio.”
“Ah, right...” Tanjirou let the thought drawl out, as if there was more for him to say. He could sense the ‘but’ sitting at the end of his tongue, as his hand dropped to rest on his chest. It was cold since he’d just come inside from the cold outdoors, forming goosebumps around his upper arms, under his touch. He then tapped a finger against his pale skin, pressed into it and dragged it around in tiny circles, each movement, no matter how miniscule, igniting a spark of electricity across his nerves. “...but do you want to dance a little with me? To cheer you up.”
Tanjirou isn’t a dancer.
There was only one dance he knew and that was one his Father had taught him, as something inherited through their family for good luck. He only did it at home, with his mother and siblings, once a year and it was so far written into their bloodline, Inosuke was convinced that it was barely even an effort for him. A hidden instinct to keep him connected to his ancestry that he probably would never understand after growing up in foster care. He’d only seen it once, despite knowing each other for so long, but even then he could see it was just muscle memory built from years of practice.
He tried teaching him some of his own made up choreography during one of their many dates in the beginning of their relationship. However, Tanjirou...didn’t pick up on any of it very well. Granted, it could be difficult for some if they weren’t as flexible as Inosuke, but despite that, it was still easy to see when someone was born with two left feet.
Nevertheless, dancing with Tanjirou was fun. It didn't happen often but it excited him.
“Nezuko’s class has moved forward into different styles of dance. I was watching her for a little while. It’s called Bachata.” As he said this, Tanjirou reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Now that his hand had left, the spot it had been resting was cold without it, but he still enjoyed watching the expression on his face melt as he flipped through the different pictures and videos he’d taken of his younger sister. “They were showing mostly the basics for this one today but I looked into it a bit more and I think it could be fun.”
On his phone, Inosuke watched the way the instructors moved their bodies, their hips and feet, and then how the students followed with ease, even Nezuko. It looked like it was mostly carried in the hips and the way their feet pivoted beneath them. A lot different than what he was normally used to...
Inosuke looked back up at him, eyebrows knit together. “I haven't really danced much outside of freestyle and ballet—”
“Oh, you can’t do it?” Tanjirou interrupted him with a flash of mischief in his eyes, teasing him obviously but with a voice that sounded innocent and disappointed. He closed out of his gallery app and rested his phone in his lap with the screen facing up. His background was a picture of them, sometime after they’d gone to watch a performance together in the early stages of their relationship. “I understand then. If it’s too hard for you...”
Inosuke bristled in an instant, his pride wounded, and he kicked a foot out to push the coffee table away from them. The red head responded with a small gasp, though the way he smiled after that felt like he’d just succeeded in turning things around his way. Like he was victorious in swaying the man’s decision. Which...wasn’t necessarily wrong. He’d definitely convinced him but that wasn’t the point! He wanted to show him that he could do it! He was a capable dancer, from a very young age! So this foreign dance did not scare him! Nothing scared him!
“Of course I’ll dance with you! I was just holding back because I didn’t want to embarrass you!”
“Oh, that makes sense.” His boyfriend couldn’t hide how excited he was while hopping off the couch the way he did. Smiling all giddy like, as if he were the one in his place for once, feeling that very special fuwa fuwa in his heart whenever he praised or even smiled at him like that. Speaking of, that was exactly the sort of feeling he got as the other man took him by the arm and pulled him up off the cushions, agreeing that he would indeed be so good he’d embarrass him even though they both knew Inosuke literally hadn’t a single clue how this dance went.
While similar, it was slower than the salsa. More intimate too, he realized, as Tanjirou excitedly pulled up a video of a pair of experienced dancers on his phone. Some moves were familiar to his eyes, though at a different pace and the bodies, at times, were a lot closer together. Overall, It wasn't anything like Inosuke had danced before but, if his partner wanted to do it, then he’d give him what he wanted.
Besides...even if he wasn’t familiar with this style, dancing was still dancing. It made him happy. It brought up his mood again and all Tanjirou had to do was put on a video with some music and take both of his hands in the middle of their tiny living room with the lights turned down low.
They took their first steps awkwardly. Well, mostly on Tanjirou’s part, who couldn’t for the life of him recognize the pacing that was needed for his feet to move. Inosuke could understand it, for the most part, though the maneuvers that the couple was doing in the corner of his vision seemed so quick and effortless, he wondered if they could do a single one without Tanjirou stepping on his foot and bursting into a fit of embarrassed giggles. He’d be lying though, if he said that it didn’t make him laugh too. They were a bit of a mess, and getting them started on the right foot wasn’t easy, but they managed to get a basic rhythm eventually.
Inosuke watched his hips, the inelegant clunky movement nothing but endearing and charming to him, as Tanjirou attempted to replicate what he’d seen that day. The red-head stepped back from him and took a hand away, so he could move on his own a few feet away, laugh to himself with a flush of pink in his cheeks before coming back with a turn of his body. He wasn’t expecting this, however, so he tensed up and caught him, forcing the two of them to stumble backwards and nearly trip over the corner of their couch.
But he would not let it best him!
He pushed Tanjirou away, then pulled him back by his hand, so they could face each other again. Unexpectedly, he came much closer than he had before, while slotting a knee between his legs and placing his hands on his shoulders. Surprised, Inosuke’s hands awkwardly grabbed at his sides, just above his moving hips, as Tanjirou continued to hum and move to the sound of the latin music playing from his phone. His body felt hotter than before, in only a few seconds of that close form of contact, before the other man was bending backwards and seeking out what else they could do from the video. His weight was easy to carry, but in that position, he nearly lost his balance and stumbled again.
They laughed together once they caught themselves.
And then they kept going.
They were by no means good at this dance. Not even a little. Inosuke was well trained in how to move his body, but this was completely foreign to him. But...moving around their small living space like this, laughing and enjoying the moment, even if they weren’t succeeding, made him feel just as victorious as any day spent on a stage with an audience hollering in glee for his performance. He felt like the two of them could take on any stage together, even if this was all they could provide as entertainment. An awkward bachata, with a side of nearly falling on their asses every two seconds and getting flustered when their thighs and hips touch despite how many years they'd been together.
They tried dancing around each other too; walking in small circles while their feet still tapped to the music, while their hands stayed connected and their hips moved in tandem. Tanjirou made an attempt to do another spin, this time closer, with both of his hands in his, and with a timing that didn’t sit right with the music, but when he came back around Inosuke still caught him, still pulled him in close, found it within himself to hold him properly, more confidently as their hips joined together like before.
The way Tanjirou blushed made this all worth it. The way he grinned and bit down on his bottom lip, partly embarrassed while thoroughly satisfied, made every bit of disappointment from that day feel like a forgotten memory. It was just them two. Inosuke who loved to dance, and Tanjirou, who couldn’t but would dance with him anyway, just to see him smile again. To make him happy.
So much adoration and happiness swelled within him all of a sudden, it was as if one of those pros from the video had come swinging in to knock him off his feet. The distraction was very brief–half a second maybe–but just enough time to prevent him from catching himself when he finally tripped over his own stupid feet.
But he wasn’t the only one capable of catching the other. Tanjirou prevented his fall with his own pair of strong arms, his eyes alight with concern for only a split moment before he confirmed that he was alright. Then he laughed again, bubbly and sweet and so full of tender emotion that Inosuke’s chest pounded and his throat felt tight.
“Marry me.” He said, without thinking, and the red-head’s laughter subsided in an instant.
The music carried on as they stared at each other, as Tanjirou held him in a dipped position, only a few feet away from the rug on their floor.
It wasn’t even a question, it was a demand; Fitting for the way Inosuke’s brain worked to mold the phrases he always spoke, but despite that...this was a bit out of left field even for himself. Sure, he’d been so elated and happy that for a moment he thought that perhaps they could be together forever, but that didn’t mean it was okay to ask for his hand in marriage at that exact moment! ...right?
“I mean—” Inosuke stopped himself short immediately, before he could take it back and give Tanjirou the wrong idea. Because honestly. It wasn’t a bad idea. Obviously, if it came from him, it was a great idea! But what would really make it work was if Tanjirou was willing to go along with it. Like he always was.
He was always going along with it...no matter how crazy he was. Because he loved him.
“No, I meant it.” He decided to say, and then suddenly, Tanjirou dropped him.
He hit the floor with a grunt, then sat up to find the red-head now placing a hand over his mouth to hide his lips. His eyebrows had shot up toward his hairline, the angry firelike scar across his skin, his expression nearly unreadable. It was the first time that Inosuke’s confidence actually faltered, even just a little. Because while dating Tanjirou was never effortless, he was usually very sure of himself when it came to the decisions he’d made in the past. Where they could go, what they could do. If he wanted to be kissed or touched or held. But this was very different. This was a thought that was still so fresh in his own mind but so very genuine and real that he almost scared him self.
“That’s not how I was planning on asking you.” He explained, though not before contorting his face thoughtfully and reaching up to rub at his shoulder. “Actually...there was no plan. But it’s true...I want to.”
He was silent still, for a moment longer, before his eyes fell toward the corner of the room and away from him. He seemed lost in thought for a beat of silence, just with the final strings of the guitar playing beside him as the song came to a close. There was a wetness in his eyes that just then became apparent as the light traced along his face at a different angle, but before Inosuke could stand up and try to do whatever he could to fix this sudden swell of unknown emotion, the other man turned back to his phone, bent over and pressed his finger to the screen.
The music started up again from the beginning, as the woman in the orange dress counted down to the beginnings of a guitar strum, as she turned and began her dance midscreen.
Then Tanjirou reached that same hand out to him, helped him back on his feet with ease, with a quiet apology conveyed in his eyes for dropping him, then he tugged him closer, grabbed his other hand and released a shaky sigh. “Okay...” He then said, as the smile Inosuke had grown to know well and love finally returned to his lips. He locked their gazes again while this smile formed, while gripping his hands tightly in his own. “Let’s keep practicing this dance then. We can show off at our wedding.”
Ah.
Inosuke’s heart leapt into his throat and he had the instinct to shout as loudly as he possibly could in order to get it out.
A part of him wanted to ask if he meant it. If he really, truly meant it, or if this was just another moment that he was going along with his obnoxious ideas with a smile on his face, because he was not only patient with him but the most understanding person he had ever known too. But Tanjirou wouldn’t just marry someone unless he meant it. He was family oriented and had a big heart but he wasn’t so desperate to sway and bend over backwards to become the beloved of another person. He truly loved Inosuke, more than he probably initially thought, so this reply was his genuine answer. Without a doubt.
He wanted to marry him too.
Inosuke let go of his hands momentarily in order to grab his boyfriend, now fiance, by his reddened cheeks. He then pulled him in and kissed him, relishing in the small noise of surprise that erupted in Tanjirou’s throat, then melting into the feeling of his lips pressing back, his whole body leaning in close and his sigh spilling into his mouth with a breath of satisfaction.
“Come to the studio with me once in a while again and I can make that happen.” Inosuke managed to say once they pulled away from each other, while grinning from ear to ear, emerald eyes dazzling in glee. His heart finally dropped back to where it was supposed to be but it never once calmed down in it’s insistent pounding against his ribcage. “I’m the best teacher around once I know what I’m doing. I’ll shape you up in no time.”
While flushed to the tips of his ears, Tanjirou chuckled happily, moved his feet forward and then back and Inosuke followed suit. They began the dance again, although this time they stayed close, took their steps more carefully, and moved slower so as to not trip on each other’s feet.
“I know you will.” He then said quietly, almost softer than the upbeat music that they moved to. “I can’t wait.”
Neither could he. Inosuke felt giddy even, while thinking about it.
He loved to dance. He loved it so much.
And He loved Tanjirou too.
So this slice in time, this small cherished moment in his day, would never be forgotten. It was always going to be the day they look back to and remember, where Tanjirou, as sweet as ever, offered to dance with him and then agreed to be his forever more. For as long as they were willing to try for, with their hands interlocked in both a bond of love and a silly stumble around the living room floor trying to replicate a romantic couple’s dance with hardly any success.
Like his feet that carried him through his childhood, through dancing and to Tanjirou, he felt lighter than air.