Shall we dance? (closed)

[Josef Muller]

Josef examined his clinic with an experienced and skeptical eye, skimming over the chairs, the mats, the punching bags, and the various equipment items set up against the wall. Seemed clean. That was a requirement he’d added to the real karate classes—cleaning up the mats and such so he didn’t have to spend hours doing it after everything else. That, plus his assistants, meant that he had free time.

What a concept. He still wasn’t used to being done before ten, but he was. Even nine thirty, right on schedule. Weird. He checked his watch, then shrugged his shoulders, and closed the blinds on the large windows in front. He flicked the neon “open” sign to off, and once that was done, realized he had nothing else to do. Well, except for the large piles of ever-present paperwork, but he’d set that to be a Sunday thing, because Sunday was the one day he taught no classes at all. It wasn’t the most interesting life, sure, but it was comfortable and he could hardly ever claim that he was bored. Besides, tonight he did have something planned. With Sam. Who had kissed him.

And yes, he was turning that over in his head like a thirteen year old boy. He was really trying not to. For one thing, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. And when he had been a teenager he hadn’t mulled it over because he’d been too busy going for it. Even when he hadn’t known what the “it” was. But ten years of certainty had made him unsure of what to do when nothing was simple anymore. But instead of worrying about it, he decided to do what he normally did.

Not think about it, go with the flow, and always remember to breathe. He was giving Sam his sort-of fairly won dance lesson tonight. He taught people all the time. This wasn’t something to stress about. So he dressed in his usual jeans and a t-shirt—this one from a tournament he’d participated in sometime in the last year—and, as he had no shoes on, walked back onto the mat and began one of the slower katas, one that was supposed to focus more on breathing than anything else. Calming. He’d learned this one when he was six—he could practically do it in his sleep. So he proceeded through the movements, not noticing if and when anyone had come in until, well, it was a little late.

Whoops.

He straightened up out of his stance and offered a slightly sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I tend to get, uh…absorbed.” He wasn’t going to be awkward about this. Or he didn’t want to be. So he offered the other man a warm smile and stepped off the mat. “Nice to see you again.”

[Sam Caraway]

Sam had been giving more thought than was normal (for him) over the past couple of days to the fact that he had kissed Josef at their last meeting. It was strange, really. Sam didn’t usually dwell on things like that, but for some reason he couldn’t quite make himself treat it like he would usually do. He’d waited a day before texting Josef about the promised dance lesson, but even then he’d felt a little apprehensive. The older man’s reaction had given nothing away as to how he felt about the brief kiss, and Sam had been left wondering if he would even reply. But here Sam was, walking through town in anticipation of learning some kind of dance. He just hoped Josef wasn’t expecting too much from him.

It was rare that he met someone who gave as little away as Josef did, and Sam was considerably impressed. He was torn between wanting to let the whole thing drop, and see if he could actually get some kind of reaction – he suspected he wouldn’t be able to resist going for the latter option. Seeing how far you could push people was a hobby of Sam’s.


The place looked closed. Sam paused at the door to Josef’s business, unsure for a moment if he had read the text correctly – but when he tried the door it was unlocked, and he made his way into the self-defence clinic with just a touch of trepidation. Buildings never felt the same after they were closed, after all, and he wasn’t even sure he should be here. But no, the lights were still on, and as Sam made his way through to the main room he could hear someone moving.

Josef was standing on a mat, doing…something. Sam watched him for a moment, trying to work it out. Yoga? Tai-chi? Clearly, I’m going on dates with The Karate Kid*. Josef’s movements were graceful, and Sam couldn’t deny that he looked pretty good while he did it, whatever it was. Then he felt rude – this didn’t look like the kind of thing someone usually did in front of other people. So he cleared his throat quietly: sure enough Josef turned, and Sam gave him a slightly apologetic look. ‘It’s fine,’ he told the older man ‘I’m just sorry to interrupt. What was that you were doing, anyway?’ His expression was full of curiosity.

Taking his cue from Josef’s relaxed demeanour, Sam offered him an easy grin – although he didn’t feel nearly as comfortable as he looked. ‘You too,’ he replied, beginning to unwind his scarf from around his neck. Having been in the bar all day, Sam had dressed primarily for comfort in jeans, a white t-shirt and a red jersey. He probably still smelled of the place, but some things couldn’t be helped – and Sam was used to usually smelling like some bar or another. He folded his coat up and placed it in a corner, before stepping closer to Josef. ‘I hope you’re prepared for some bad dancing,’ he joked.

* - Up until this point, Sam had been wondering if a nickname for Josef would ever manifest itself. Luckily, it now had. Although it wasn’t a very dignified one, and Sam had the feeling that he would be biting his tongue for the rest of the evening to keep himself from saying it.

[Josef Muller]

Well, he hadn’t freaked out. Nor had he seemed particularly impressed by it, but Josef was all right with that, all considering. It didn’t bother him that Sam had caught him doing it—katas were rituals performed in front of others. In fact, that was practically a requirement. If you couldn’t do the movements in front of people, you couldn’t advance a belt. He’d learned that lesson very young. So about this he could be relaxed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug. And because Sam looked curious, he gave in to teaching impulses and added, “It’s called a kata. Basically, it’s a series of movements designed to fight off a certain number of attackers who are holding certain weapons.” He rolled his eyes. “But they don’t work very well. For one, people don’t use samurai swords anymore. So I usually just use them as either a fitness technique, meditation, or to look hellishly impressive. The last one works best.” He flashed him a smile. It was odd to see him dressed casually without being black and blue all over, and he would admit—privately and never ever ever aloud—that he really had looked very good in that suit. Not that he looked bad now, it was just…

Mm. Better not to articulate that thought, perhaps.

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he told him with a grin of his own, tilting his head up slightly as the man stepped closer. On impulse, he leaned up slightly to press his lips to Sam’s, in a kiss only slightly longer than the one he’d received before. Perhaps it was stupid. Very likely, this whole thing wasn’t going to end well. Josef’s bull-headed optimism from his younger days had been pretty well tapped out, and it made it difficult to hope for anything much. But he had not been giving Sam any good signs thus far, and he hoped this would show him that he wasn’t adverse to this whole thing.

Plus, he liked kissing him. Another thing he wouldn’t say out loud unless very drunk or prompted with strong hints.

But after that, he withdrew to the desk, tapping the keyboard to bring up the screen. “So what did you want to try?” he asked, glancing up. “Waltz is the easiest and most useful. Great for impressing women in particular, and for formal parties.” He’d used it to make his sister like him—briefly—during her wedding. He’d taught her husband how to waltz for free, and in return, she’d promised not to yell at him for a full twenty-four hours.

She only managed six, but Josef took what he could get.

“There’s also the swing,” he added, thoughtfully. “A little more complicated, but definitely more entertaining. Any preferences?”

[Sam Caraway]

Sam nodded at Josef’s explanation, storing the fact away in case he ever needed to use it again. ‘Hellishly impressive?’ he asked, tilting his head to one side as if considering the truth of the statement. Then he returned the older man’s smile. ‘That’s quite a claim,’ Sam teased, eyes full of mischief. ‘Are you sure you can live up to it?’ There was no sting in his words, only fun – and a sense of challenge. This felt better, as if he were getting back on a level footing. For a moment, Sam reckoned he could work out what Josef’s glance meant: the other man was regretting the lack of a suit. He had actually considered wearing something smarter, but had decided that it would be too formal in an informal setting. That would look as if he were trying too hard, and Sam Caraway had made a lifetime career out of never seeming to try too hard.

Maybe this was why he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Josef – everything about him was so new. Sam had never met anyone who would do something just because they wanted to at the time, rather than because they were thinking about the potential for people to see them. Josef was genuine in a way that nobody out in the desert had been.

‘I wouldn’t speak too soon,’ Sam replied – it was nice for Josef to say he wouldn’t be all that bad, but he had the feeling that he was going to make a huge fool of himself. He was going to say something else on that score when Josef kissed him, catching him entirely off guard. It actually took Sam a moment to work out what was happening, but he leaned into the kiss as soon as he had gathered his wits. The smirk was wiped right off his face, and replaced by something altogether softer and more surprised. Sam struggled to regain his equilibrium as Josef moved away, but the pleased smile kept coming back, and he was sure Josef couldn’t help but notice.

Not wanting to give away too much (old habits die hard, and Sam was still wary of taking things too far until he was sure of what on earth was going on, here), Sam finally managed to suppress his smile – but his eyes were still bright as he looked over at Josef, and he pondered the questions that the older man asked.

‘Can we start with the easiest?’ he asked, unable to keep a slight tinge of apprehension from his voice. Sam didn’t really think he would ever actually end up using real dance steps, but there was always the chance they would come in useful someday, and he always took everything he could get. ‘Maybe after that I’ll feel a bit braver.’

[Josef Muller]

Remembering that Sam had come from Vegas, Josef bit back the instinctive proud response of, Yeah, of course, and thought about it. “Well, if you’re thinking ‘hellishly’ as fire and brimstone and flashing pyrotechnics of a stage show, then the answer’s no.” He chuckled. “But I still think they’re impressive. Considering how much effort they took to learn and how far they’ve advanced the martial arts in the minds of us lowly Westerners, there’s gotta be something to it, right?” He flashed him a grin. “But I’m not going to wager on it. I think I’ve learned that lesson already.” But he didn’t sound upset or ashamed. It was all in good fun, and he liked Sam. Plus, he knew the man would be able to talk him into something if he really wanted to. He knew enough about himself to know he really couldn’t resist a wager, even if he knew he was going to lose it. Especially when posed by Sam, who seemed to know all the right words to say to get him to react.

It seemed the kiss had caught Sam as much off-guard as his kiss had done with Josef. It was nice and relieving to see that smile on his face, and he felt the tension in his shoulders easing. Perhaps Sam wasn’t as together or as confident as he seemed. Perhaps he too was emotionally…but never mind. This he was familiar with. This perhaps he could handle. It was a relationship—new and terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But he’d once been good at this, and perhaps not everything was lost with seven years of marriage.

Just most of it. Ah, well, it was time to make the best of it.

His eyes flickered up from the screen of his computer at the apprehension in the other man’s voice. He hadn’t realized that Sam was actually that nervous. About dancing? He must have had some pretty bad experiences. Well he’d try to fix that, if he could. And if Sam was that bad, he was resilient enough to handle it. “’Course we can,” he said, smiling at him. “No trouble at all. Here, we’ll just start with the counts for now and try music later. If you still want to do this.” He crossed from the desk and back to his side and tilted his head to the side. “And if it really does go that badly,” he added, “I’ll never speak a word of it. Black belt’s honor.” He bowed his head and winked at Sam, then held out his hand. “Want to give it a try?”

[Sam Caraway]

Sam laughed. ‘I’ll make a betting man of you yet, Josef, he mock-threatened, already trying to work out what kind of gamble he could lay on martial arts. But it wasn’t his area of expertise – and if there was one thing Sam had learned after all these years, it was that you needed to know as much as possible if you were going to bet on something. No matter. He could bide his time, and work something out later. There were a few card and coin tricks he wanted to teach Josef, and he would need to work out what he could ask for in exchange for them.

While he hadn’t exactly had any ‘bad experiences’ with dancing, it was definitely not Sam’s favourite thing to do. He tended to steer well clear of anything which could make him look foolish, and dancing was on that list. While Sam could roll a pair of dice, fix a deck and perform card tricks with no problem at all, dancing was a different matter entirely. Josef’s cheerful tone started to put him at ease, and Sam finally gave in: he took off his shoes and socks (after all, he took it for granted that he was going to step on the other man at some point, and he didn’t want to be responsible for any serious injury) and nodded. ‘Of course I do! I’m just a wuss,’ he said with a grin, chuckling when Josef mentioned ‘black belts’ honour’. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he joked.

He regarded the offered hand for a moment before stepping forward. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said with a smile, taking Josef’s hand and allowing the older man to make sure his arms were in the right place. It was strange to be this physically close to someone when he wasn’t trying to intimidate them or kiss them – Sam found to his surprise that his mouth felt a little dry. One hand was now resting on Josef’s shoulder (whoa. How many muscles does this guy have?), and Sam looked down at their respective positions with a grin. ‘I’m the girl in this thing, aren’t I? Sneaky.’

Mason’s comment about not understanding ‘dynamics’ ran through his head, and Sam was suddenly grateful for his poker training – he managed to avoid laughing, although he couldn’t help an amused smirk. Hopefully it just looked as if he were trying to make a joke of his last comment. Then certain other topics from the same conversation made a mental appearance, and Sam suddenly felt very, very out of his depth. He only hoped he didn’t show – he looked at Josef with interest, and tried to cover his nerves. ‘Okay. I’m ready to learn.’

[Josef Muller]

Josef laughed in return. “I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” The thought of him being a betting man—ever—was unlikely. He wasn’t the type. He was upfront and, although he might’ve been able to conceal his own personal feelings without much difficulty, he was well aware of the fact that he just didn’t have the nerve nor the inclination to try and consciously trick someone. Or to lay things on the line based on a feeling or an instinct.

That said…it was probably better if Sam didn’t know about the main way he’d made it through college. Had he known about the impromptu physical contests that had gotten Josef most of his money for alcohol at the time, he would have thought—correctly—that corrupting Josef wasn’t that far off at all. He hadn’t done that in a long time—except in a couple of impromptu drinking contests with William to decide who’s in laws they were going to visit that year. But he didn’t think those counted. Or hoped they didn’t.

He relaxed a bit as Sam said he was willing, and nodded his head. “Of course. Although I think you’ll have to watch out for Mason anyways.” He chuckled. “Somehow I think he’ll find out and will make fun of us both. He’s a great guy, but sometimes…” He shook his head and set to putting Sam in the right position. It wasn’t so hard. The waltz was the easy one, although he’d admit he was tempted for his hand to slide a little lower…ah, no. He had self-control, and Sam had asked for a dancing lesson. And he was nervous. He’d behave himself for now. His lips twitched into a smile at Sam’s statement, and he shook his head.

“Only while you’re learning,” he said. “Once you’ve got it, you’re leading. You’re the taller one.” He noticed the smirk, and his brows lifted questioningly, but he shrugged it off. “All right. Most of being the, uh, girl is just following the movements. You don’t really have to know the specific if you’ve got a good partner—which I am.” He flashed a grin to show that he was (mostly) joking, then added, “Just have a good sense of rhythm and follow. This teaches you how to avoid stepping on people’s toes, too. Waltz is a three count, so you follow a pattern of three steps—left foot, right to the side, together. I’m going to move my left foot forward, so you have to move yours back.” He grinned. “If you don’t we’ll have an issue. We’ll just try a three count.” Thankfully, keeping count was not as difficult for him as singing or trying to figure out a note. It was just another set of movements to timing, and he’d been dealing with that since he was four years old. "Want to try?"

[Sam Caraway]

When Sam really wanted to win something outside of a casino situation, he would use his ability – but that was actually relatively rare. Only when it came to coin tosses and lucky guesses would he use his gift to rig a bet. Other than that, he actually rather enjoyed relying on his own wits: as with the trick he’d taught Josef, he liked to make use of expert knowledge and sleight-of-hand. Sure, sometimes he went wrong when he’d had a few too many, and needed to use luck to pick exactly the right car from the deck, but that wasn’t too common an occurrence. If asked about his various scams, Sam would just smile and quote Shakespeare: ‘Tis an honest kind of thievery.’

That was what he specialised in, really. As much as thievery could be honest, Sam did it – after all, people always gave him their money willingly. Casinos, drunks in bars, friends. And when it came to casinos, it wasn’t really stealing, surely? He was just playing the game, and winning. No card counting, nothing particularly illegal. Just Sam Caraway and a spark of luck (albeit manufactured luck).

Sam chuckled at Josef’s mention of Mason. ‘Mason loves it when he thinks he can make fun of me over something,’ he told the older man, shaking his head at his friend in his absence. ‘And if he knew that someone had finally managed to get me to dance, he’d think it was Christmas.’ Of course, that wasn’t the only reason Mason was finding things so hilarious at the moment, but Sam didn’t need to go into that one. Unless – God forbid – Mason ever forgot himself and accidentally let slip things Sam didn’t want the world to know. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened, after all.

He grinned at Josef’s surety that he was a good partner, and nodded through the explanation. ‘Left, right, together. I get it.’ He took a deep breath and nodded again. ‘Go for it,’ Sam said, and when Josef began to show him the steps he followed haltingly.

To his surprise, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. After all, he could pick up a card trick after watching someone’s hands once or twice, and dancing seemed to follow the same kind of principle. Once he knew how to anticipate, Sam found that he could move in time with Josef. He even forgot to be nervous after the first few moments of self-consciousness, and his movements gained some confidence. False steps and minor mistakes aside, after a few minutes Sam was looking at the older man with an amused grin. ‘Beats falling on top of you,’ he said. ‘Maybe I should stick to this rather than martial arts.’

[Josef Muller]

“Of course Mason would.” This came as no surprise to him. He liked Mason, but the man liked to make fun of everything. And if he found out they were doing this, he’d never let either of them live it down. Most likely, he’d suggest that the picture would be even better if one of them was in a dress. “Has he been trying to get you to dance, then?”

Josef would never let him know that someone had talked him into that in college. Or let anyone know that, as it happened. His excuse was that he’d been very drunk. He still had the picture buried somewhere deep in his dresser, where he looked like a hairy gorilla. And there it would stay, for as long as he could manage. He knew he should burn it, but he kept it there to remind himself of what a horrendous idea that had been.

Sam really wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Sure, he made a few mistakes, and his movements at first were halting and stiff, but Josef just kept dancing, quietly keeping count—mostly in his head—and moving slowly so Sam could follow. He picked it up quickly, and after a while, Josef smiled back at him at the statement.

“I didn’t mind that much,” he said absently, then realized what that statement could lead to and added, “Besides, you fell while stretching, not while the actual martial arts. I think that means that you shouldn’t try yoga any time soon, but other than that you should be perfectly safe.” Martial arts didn’t rely on balancing on one leg until you got into the upper levels, when you were drilled to make sure your balance was suitable. That part had been difficult for him. He was flexible and strong, but those two things didn’t automatically mean he could stand on one leg for several minutes. “You’re too hard on yourself anyways. Look at you, so nervous and you haven’t even stepped on my feet yet.” He flashed him a grin. “Now, do you feel like trying to lead now? There’s a couple more steps I need to teach you—there’s a spin, for example—and as you’re taller than me, I don’t think it’d work if I tried to teach you from here. But after that, you’ve learned how to waltz.” He tilted his head to the side. “Not so bad?”

[Sam Caraway]

‘Only for…oh, about fifteen years, now,’ Sam told Josef with a grin. It was so rare for Mason to find anything that was outside of Sam’s comfort zone that when he did stumble upon something, he instantly made it his life’s mission to try and get Sam to do it. Dancing was one of the only things still left on the list, and Sam had to smile: ‘I don’t think he’d ever forgive you for getting the best of him – he’s been trying all these years to get me to dance, and it only takes you a few weeks to succeed.’ Of course, Josef did have a couple of advantages over Mason – the main one being that Sam had stopped trying to impress Mason a long time ago, while he was still very much trying to accomplish that with Josef.

So he didn’t mind much, did he? Sam stifled a smirk at Josef’s words, watching in amusement as the older man tried to cover his accidental comment. ‘Mason thinks I did that on purpose,’ Sam told him with a sly look. ‘I didn’t, but he doesn’t believe me.’ He smiled. ‘I’m not sure pushing someone over is the best way to flirt with them.’ It may have worked in the schoolyard, but Sam was pretty certain that it wasn’t a recipe for a good start after one had passed the age of fourteen. Come to think of it, maybe that explained a lot about Mason. Sam would have to remember to tell him about that little theory later on.

‘It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,’ Sam conceded when Josef asked him, rearranging his arms so that he was in the ‘leading’ pose. Was his hand too far down on Josef’s back? He assumed that the other man would correct him if he went wrong. But they seemed closer than they had been a few moments ago, and Sam would have to admit that he felt a little self-conscious, offering Josef a rather embarrassed smile. ‘Is this right?’ he asked, not used to feeling like this. He was Sam Caraway, the man who could walk into any casino and feel at ease under the eyes of a hundred strangers. Why did dancing make him feel like a nervous teenager?

Well, he wasn’t going to let it. Sam pushed away his misgivings, and looked expectantly down at Josef. ‘I’ll try not to injure you during a spin,’ he told the older man with a smirk. ‘Though if I do, I guess you can just assume it’s my way of attempting to seduce you…’

[Josef Muller]

“I see.” Josef’s own lips tugged into a grin. He couldn’t help it. Sam’s smile was very infectious. Mason had been trying to get Sam to dance for fifteen years? That wasn’t good. Was the man really convinced that he was going to do that badly? Well, he seemed to be managing well enough so far. Perhaps he’d just done it to spite Mason. “Well, we’d better not tell him, then. I wouldn’t want Mason to be upset with either of us.” So why had he agreed to take the dancing lesson with him? Well, not so much agreed as bet on it. It seemed…very flattering, actually.

He’d caught the slip, though. Whoops. Josef would have blushed, but he had better control over himself than that. Instead, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not sure it is either,” he admitted. “So I am slightly glad you didn’t do that on purpose. But I guess we’ll let Mason think what he wants, huh? Although…” He was smiling now. “I do wonder why you fell over in the first place. Something you want to tell me?” The glint in his eye indicated that he was just teasing. He couldn’t smirk, not as well as Sam could, but he could do that.

And there he was, self-conscious again. His brows climbed at the embarrassed smile, and he nodded and offered him a smile, pressing another kiss to his cheek. He would have kissed him on the mouth again, but they were close enough that he didn’t want things to get uncomfortable. Or to make Sam more embarrassed than he was. He had wanted this to be an enjoyable experience, not something that made him nervous. “You’re doing fine. Relax, all right? Everything looks good. If you’re comfortable with this stance, then all’s well.” He hadn’t done the following role in some time. It took some getting used to.

Apparently, Sam wasn’t going to let his nerves get the better of him, because he was back to his jokes again. He laughed and shook his head. “Is it? Hm. I’ll have to keep that in mind. Usually, though, it’s the spinner who injures the lead. If it happens, you’ll have to decide whether I’m trying to seduce you or not.” His eyebrows quirked up. “Now c’mon, let’s try it again, shall we?” And he nudged Sam back into the movements. With any luck, the man would gain enough confidence in himself not to be worried.

[Sam Caraway]

Why had Sam agreed to let Josef teach him how to dance? The answer to that, if Sam would have thought about it (which he would probably have preferred not to do), was simple enough: if you wanted to spend time with someone while keeping them entertained, you took whatever opportunity presented itself. Dancing lessons had seemed like a good idea at the time – and while Sam was reserving judgement on that conclusion for the moment, he had to admit that he was having fun. So far, anyway.

Sam laughed. ‘I fell over, okay?’ he told Josef, expression mock-affronted. ‘Why does everyone think I always have an ulterior motive for everything?’ Because you do, Mason would have replied – Kali too, for that matter, and probably everyone else who knew him even slightly. Sam had never exuded an air of innocence, and people always assumed the worse. On the upside, it meant that he could surprise them when he wanted to – if he wanted to. But there was only so long he could pretend to be offended by the insinuation, and after a moment Sam gave in, offering Josef a grin. ‘It was an honest mistake,’ he clarified for the older man. ‘Although I will admit that usually it’s the kind of thing I would do.’ Not that he’d always go so far as to push someone over, but he’d do his best to get their attention somehow.

And there it was again – that pleased and surprised look in Sam’s eyes when Josef kissed him on the cheek. A smile that started in his chest and worked its’ way up, even while he did his best to suppress it. It would probably be a tactical error to let Josef know what kind of effect he had. Sam met Josef’s gaze, expression amused (for want to a better reaction on the spot), and for a moment his hand tightened on the older man’s back.

He chuckled. ‘You should have warned me before letting me switch places with you,’ Sam teased. ‘No trying to get me back for the fall last week, okay?’ He allowed the other man to nudge him into dancing again, and while he had to think hard about where his feet were going – after all, it was the opposite of what he had been doing a few moments ago – it wasn’t too bad.

Sam wasn’t in the habit of doing new things, because he hated doing something that he could fail at – if he didn’t think he was going to be good at an activity, then he didn’t even try. But he had to admit that this was fun, much more fun than he would previously have given it credit for. Leading was more nerve-wracking, because he couldn’t just follow Josef, but after a few minutes he found that his shoulder had relaxed a little. ‘How do I spin you?’

[Josef Muller]

“Because I think you do.” This was a prompt reply. Of course it was. He wasn’t as harsh as Mason or Kali would have been, because he didn’t know Sam as well as they did, but he knew him well enough to believe that Sam almost always had a second motivator driving him into any action, however innocent. His lips twitched into a smile again. “But I believe you.” He was insistent enough—and had been flustered enough—that Josef doubted it had been intentional at all. But he found himself grinning as he said it was something he’d normally do. “Really? I’d better keep my eye out, then. I still haven’t recovered fully from last time.” A lie, but Josef had learned Jewish guilt (and the desire to make people you liked squirm) from his mother. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

Josef was also half-tempted to comment on the look on Sam’s face, perhaps to tease or just to draw his attention to it, but he stopped himself. Judging by the expression on his face, Sam was trying not to call attention to it. It might make the younger man uncomfortable for him to remark on something he seemed to be trying to hide. Or, not hide—just not focus on. And that was fair. So Josef just smiled at him, and decided to say nothing. Because sometimes you didn’t have to.

“I’ll try to behave myself,” he replied to Sam’s statement, brows arched slightly. “But I make no guarantees. It’s been a long time since I’ve followed. So I’m sorry in advance, and if anything does happen, I’m buying for our next round of drinks. That way you won’t think I’m getting back at you, and it’ll just be regular old incompetence instead.” It seemed fair. Besides, he wasn’t lying—in this case, he was nearly as uncomfortable as Sam, trying to remember all the steps in reverse. He could tap on his ability, but he wasn’t too fond of doing that for simple things. And it felt unfair to Sam, too. So he’d manage the best he could.

“You’re doing really well,” he said. “It took me forever to learn how to lead the first time.” He’d been pretty young at the time, dancing with a girl who was a lot taller than he was. That had been an interesting experience… “Spinning is simple. You just continue the dancing pattern, then hold up the hand holding mine, loosen the grip a little, and guide me in a half-circle. And that,” he added, wryly, “is why it’s called leading. But after that you have learned the most basic steps.” He smiled at him. “C’mon. Let’s try.”

Of course, it was Josef who made the misstep this time, not quite returning to Sam on the right step. He muttered a curse—ever the perfectionist—then laughed. “I told you I was rusty. Hopefully your next partner will know what they’re doing. I didn’t get your feet, did I?”

[Sam Caraway]

When Josef echoed the words that everyone else would have also used in reply, Sam gave him a delighted smile – an odd reaction to being seen through in that way, perhaps, but one which made sense to Sam. He loved it when people teased him back, and the fact that Josef was willing and able to do so was definitely a cause for celebration. When the older man said ‘I believe you’, Sam’s smile turned mischievous. ‘Not a mistake many people make twice,’ he replied, but his cheerful expression made it very clear that he was joking. He laughed at Josef’s quip, arching an eyebrow. ‘Sorry, sorry. I forgot, you’re an old man – I should be gentle with you.’ If he had to make a lucky guess, Sam would have placed Josef’s age at forty – and he wouldn’t have been far wrong. It was a bit of a party trick of his: even if he didn’t know someone’s age or name, he could tell them simply by letting his power guide him to the right answer.

‘So we’re both as bad as each other?’ Sam grinned. ‘I tell you what – if I push you over again, you get dinner on me.’ With someone else, he would have been tempted to offer a lesson in getting dinner from a restaurant for free, but he had the feeling that Josef wouldn’t be greatly impressed by something like that. Sam hadn’t got where he was today by paying for everything – Josef struck him as the opposite. The other man was an honest grafter, and maybe it was that which made Sam feel so cagey: they were very different people, when it came to things like that.

Josef’s encouragement made a smile break through Sam’s expression of concentration. He listened carefully as Josef explained the steps to him, and gave a decisive nod. ‘Okay,’ he said gamely when the older man suggested they give it a try, and to his surprise he managed to successfully guide the other man in a slow turn. They stumbled when Josef came back with the wrong step, and Sam laughed.

‘Simple, huh? Spoke too soon…’ Sam was as much poking fun at himself as he was at Josef, and he waved away the other man’s concern. ‘No, don’t worry,’ he indicated that his feet were, indeed, unscathed, and rearranged his arms so that they were in the dancing positions once more. They were closer again, and Sam couldn’t resist a grin. ‘I could get used to leading…’ he told the older man. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy being in this position with Josef, and he didn’t mind letting it show.

He started them dancing again, and it wasn’t long before he was actually beginning to enjoy himself. Sam span Josef again, and even voiced his thoughts: ‘This is fun!’ Trying not to look at what his feet were doing, Sam met Josef’s gaze as they danced, expression similar to the one when he had shown the other man a trick: excitement and enjoyment were reflected in his blue eyes. They came to a halt after a while, and Sam was a little breathless as he leaned forward to kiss Josef on the lips, pulling back with a playful smile. ‘You’re a good teacher.’

[Kateri Rivera]

Josef was surprised by the smile, but was more than willing to return it. He liked making fun of people. Or good, light-hearted teasing. It was part of the reasons that he liked Mason and Levente, although he’d never have admitted it to either of the men. That would have made their heads more swelled than they already were. No, better to just let that lie, and only reveal his true fondness when he was either very drunk or very frustrated and needed a reason not to bash their heads together.

It was he who grinned at Sam’s mischievous comment, and he shook his head. “Is that so? Well then, I’ll be more cautious next time. I’m onto you now, Sam. And excuse me?” His laugh this time was a healthy mixture of amusement and indignation. “I’m not that—oh, you’re going to have to pay for that one. I guess you haven’t learned that it isn’t wise to insult black belts. We have our ways—just you watch.” He was only teasing. He’d never do anything to hurt Sam—not if he could help it.

“Done,” he said to the offer. Although he did notice that drinks and dinners didn’t quite match up…hm. He’d try to make it up to him later. He smiled at him. “Now we just have to figure out the medical bills if something does happen. But we’ll work that out later if it comes to that.”

And it didn’t. Sure, there was the misstep, but Sam didn’t seem to mind so much. He even reassumed the dancing position, and at his statement, looked up. So many different responses bubbled up—none of them appropriate—and he bit them back, because so far this moment was charming in its…innocence. Its lack of pressure. At least, to him. It was strange to be in a relationship where none of those little rules you made to live with a person had developed yet. Where you were still trying to figure each other out. But he couldn’t quite stop the faint smirk—and yes, it was a smirk—from appearing on his lips, in spite of his efforts to suppress it.

“You’re good at it,” he said in a relatively neutral tone. “I still don’t know why you were so nervous.” But truthfully, he didn’t care. He liked this position—liked being this close to him.

And he was getting good at it. After a time, Josef stopped focusing on the counts, stopped watching their feet to make sure they weren’t going to injure each other, stopped thinking about it, and just enjoyed the motions. He spun and returned to Sam correctly this time, and when his light eyes met Sam’s, he was grinning. He’d been about to say something when they stopped, but instead Sam kissed him. He didn’t seem to mind, if the way he leaned into it was any indication, and when Sam pulled back, he wasn’t the only one who was breathless. And it was the first time that his expression was completely unguarded, revealing surprise, amusement and something that seemed curiously like contentment. The mask didn’t even come back as he laughed at the statement.

“You’re a good student. I have a feeling I might regret teaching you later, but I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” He’d forgotten how much he liked dancing. “And now you’re prepared for every occasion, and I have a new trick.” He grinned. “Do I want to know what you’d bet for next, if you had a chance?”