A/N: I opened Christmas requests and was asked for a TerEdo dance AU and here we are. I barely know something about dancing and the last ballet performance I saw was nutcracker about two years ago, so I hope I'm forgiven for not going that much into detail concerning the dancing. I hope you like it!

Title: Curiosity and Dancing

Genre: Romance

Warning: implied sexual content

Rating: T-M?

Summary: Dancer Edgar meets Teres after a year at his parents' dance studio again and this time, Teres tries to keep in touch with him. As it turns out, this is a bit harder than he thought but at the same time all the wait is worth it.


Teres can't take his eyes off him.

It's been a year since he saw Edgar the last time and obviously enough, he changed. His hair is still long enough so that he puts it up and while Teres is tempted to look at the revealed pale neck, Edgar's posture is much more alluring, how he moves without hesitation along the music. However as soon as he looks closer, he realises that the air which held pride and grace the last time he saw him is gone, tension taking its place.

"I might not know much about ballet, but I'm pretty sure that considering all types of dances, with this body language you won't achieve anything."

Edgar flinches and turns around, embarrassment quickly covered by a glare; he hadn't heard him enter.

"You're right, you know nothing. What are you doing here?", he demands to know, walking over to turn off the music; the last time Teres had interrupted him he had simply lowered the volume to signalise that he would continue his practise and Teres had to hurry up – it shows Teres that he was right and Edgar realises that he won't come far today any more.

"I told you last time, this is my parent's studio."

"No, what are you doing here, watching?"

Teres is torn between telling him and changing the subject, but he himself is confused why he is drawn towards the other one and so telling him that he likes watching his dance would be too direct, scaring him eventually, so he shrugs.

"Simple curiosity."

It's not a satisfying answer, so before Edgar can question him, Teres walks over to the stereo and replaces the CD with one who is in the pile next to it, turning it on again.

"That's... Tango?"

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Edgar raises an eyebrow after listening to the instrumental, wondering why he chose this kind of dance or change the music in the first place.

"You know how to dance it, right? It's different and might help you a bit. Come on, don't look at me that way."

Edgar just rolls with his eyes before he steps closer and changes the music as well, taking his time and ignoring the way Teres is looking at him, especially when he turns around after another song plays; maybe it's a good thing because Teres wouldn't be able to find an excuse for looking at his back, at least none which wouldn't involve 'I want to run my hand along it'.

"Waltz should be fine, right? I'm not going to dance Tango with you", Edgar interrupts his thought, turning around again and closing the distance.

"You wound me, am I looking like such a bad dance partner?"

Instead of replying, Edgar takes his hand and starts, leading them – Teres allows it, hopes that it helps him and when Edgar takes the initiative, there is no way he will refuse; it surprises himself how much he actually wants to see him dancing like the first time.

"You're not that good at it", Edgar comments after the first play stops, maybe a bit disappointed even though he acted like he didn't expect anything else.

Teres doesn't mind.

"I haven't danced in a while and when I do it's Tango or hip hop. Besides, it did help, right?"

"It was not bad."

This is all he gets out of Edgar, but it's good enough for him, so he smiles and counts it as a victory when Edgar turns away as if he was blinded.


"Ballet? I'm not quiet sure..."

Teres looks at his mother after they close the studio together and are on their way home.

"Oh, come on, it's the English National Ballet, they won't be here for a little while longer."

Teres sighs. He doesn't really have a choice, after all it's his mother's birthday and even though she probably only bought the tickets for next week so that she has someone to go with, he can't be mad at her. Besides, they did train in their studio, it would be rude not watching them.

"Fine."

In the end he can't deny his mother any wish.


He underestimated him.

Teres knew that Edgar was good, but their little studio is not a stage and Edgar dances on the stage like he belongs nowhere else – he is a bit envious, assuming that their place might not be enough and he wonders why they even came to them in the first place. But more than that he is captivated, watches every movement. He also pays attention to the other dancers, after all Edgar isn't the only one with a solo, but even though he can see how good they are, his gaze always shifts back to Edgar.

Most of the crowd dissolves after the play is over, just a few stay behind to congratulate the dancers and his mother is one of them, taking him along to the back. She gives him a bouquet he should hand over to the female lead, or at least he assumes that she intended that. But instead he hands the flowers over to Edgar who looks rather confused, gaze shifting to his female partner who takes the bouquet Tere's mother hands over; she smiles and Teres is thankful that his mother caught on and isn't as surprised by her son's action as others would be.

"So?"

Edgar isn't sure if he isn't the wrong person Teres went to, so he tries to act as nonchalant as possible when Teres holds them out for him.

"You were pretty amazing."

Edgar looks taken aback, like he didn't expect such a reply, maybe even embarrassed because of the honesty.

"Thank you", he says, accepting the flowers and bowing a little, allowing himself a small smile he hides behind the present.

"Can I invite you for dinner?", he adds a bit quieter, when the others are getting louder due to more friends congratulating them.

Edgar hesitates for a second, looking at Teres and searching for something which could give him away, reveal it as a joke, but there is nothing but honesty he sees and so he nods.

"If you insist."

Edgar looks rather sceptical when Teres invites him over to a rather fancy looking restaurant, wonders how he got a reservation so quickly, but the other one just shrugs, saying that he has some connection on his own.

"Good evening, can I offer you some wine first?", the waiter asks, nodding when Teres tells him to bring his favourite.

"His name his Díaz, we're old friends. He knows more about Argentine wine than anyone else I know", Teres grins, probably trying to reassure him that he doesn't need to worry about some cheap stuff; Edgar is rather amused by this thought, that Teres thinks he has to be this classic – but on the other hand he does have his standard, though now he wouldn't have cared either way.

Teres tells him to go ahead and order anything he wants to eat, ignoring the amused glance on the other one's face, how Edgar tries not to say anything about the way he is acting, as if Teres intends to impress him. It's tempting, ordering a few dishes, but Edgar was raised not to waste food and being someone who doesn't eat much, he settles for something small which still turns out to be more than he thought.

If there is one thing Teres learns that day is that Edgar is a slow eater, but considering their different sizes of portions, it doesn't matter, especially when Teres is the one talking most of the time and Edgar listening. At first it's just a bit about the restaurant and the city itself, before he talks about the studio and it's not until Edgar asks between the main course and the dessert does he start talking about himself, his current job and his family. He leaves out what he thinks about dancing itself, something Edgar is already used to whenever they talk and it's starting to get irritating.

However when the dessert comes, he forgets voicing his thoughts and listens to the Argentine cuisine Teres tells him about, a few facts about wine Díaz told him about included; the dancer also buys a bottle of the wine they drunk to take it with him, saying it's for a friend.

(Teres suspects it's because he likes the taste but he has no idea that he does it to remember the evening when he is alone.)

Dinner becomes more and so Teres eventually invites him over to stay at his place. It's not much, a small flat so that he can search for some quiet, escape the family he loves so much. Edgar doesn't complain, not when they are sitting at the small kitchen table, drinking some more wine and with a bit music in the background which they don't focus on, chatting, talking about their life.

Maybe it's the alcohols fault but they end up in the living room, table pushed aside and slowly dance, no specific style – not that they were able to do that in their current state – just arms wrapped around each other and moving a bit around the room.

"You are really rusty", Edgar comments with amusement, leading them a bit to the left so that they don't bump into the wall, glad that he doesn't step on his feet.

"Then teach me", Teres murmurs back, lips pressed together in order to avoid laughing when Edgar says how he thought that he was the one who is a teacher.

"Well, for other dances. Or do you know more than ballet and classical?"

"Give me a pole and I show you", the words slip out, but Edgar is at a point at which he isn't embarrassed about it, though this doesn't mean that he will admit it once he is sober again; he doesn't have to worry about that because it's Teres pleasure to remind him of that.

"You also owe me a Tango", he says instead, shivering when he feels the other one breath against his neck, words difficult to utter.

"Maybe later."

It's nothing but a murmur and yet much more as Edgar takes a step back, eyes piercing Teres when he looks at him, licking his lips.

It looks like he had other things than dancing in mind now.

(He feels his skin burn, hot from the touch. Teres hands leave no spot untouched, his mouth making its way along his chest, finally taking a taste of the skin and he is thankfully sober enough not to leave a mark at his neck, as much as he wants to.)

They wake up rather early for a Sunday, staying like that for a moment, lying face to face without touching, no heated gaze or loving, but a fondness when they look directly at each other. Teres is sure that he would have been able to fall asleep again if Edgar hadn't asked him a question which he needs a moment to understand.

"What does dancing mean to you? You say it's fun and you are not as good as someone like you can be."

The accusation in the last part is lost in his tired mind, filed under things typical for Edgar and not to be worried by.

"It's not my profession, it's a hobby. Sure, my parents own the studio and I will probably take over once they are too old or tired to teach. But I won't be an instructor. I taught the younger ones but things got in the way."

Edgar isn't pleased with the answer and Teres realises that he never is when he explains something about his personal interest, as if he knew that he is hiding something and this time, when he feels the other one nudging him with his foot to go on, he sighs and gives in.

"I love dancing but not as much as seeing you on the stage."

There is a short moment of silence before Edgar shakes his head.

"You are completely insane."

"I know, part of the personality."

Get used to it, he wants to say though has no idea whether the other one would show up here again or share a bed with him. He already missed this even though they haven't parted yet.

"You should consider giving me your phone number", he blurts out, doesn't regret saying it even if he fear that he asks for too much – he doesn't.

"I will, but now go back to sleep, it's still too early for this."

When Teres wakes up the next time, Edgar is still there and fast asleep. He watches him again but only because he doesn't want to wake him up right away, waits a moment until he realises that it's getting late and they should eat some breakfast. Teres starts brushing away Edgar's hair, out of his eyes, watches how his eyelid flutters before he shifts and turns around. Suppressing a laughter, Teres starts kissing his neck, glad that he can finally do this.

"Teres", he grumbles, apparently not really a morning person, not that this stops the other one from placing a kiss against is temple.

"Buenos días. I think you should take a shower before breakfast, aren't you supposed to go back to the hotel at some point?"

It's the first time that he hears Edgar curse as soon as he sits up straight, almost falls out of the bed.

Teres sighs. He forgot to get his number in the end and it's rather frustrating. As far as he remembers they will stay until the next morning so there is time to see if they come to the studio in the evening. However it seems rather desperate and he suspect that the other one doesn't intent to keep in contact, otherwise he would have taken the time to leave a note.

Shaking his head, he intends to take a shower to get rid of the dirty feeling and any negative thought – he is closer to thirty than to twenty, so he should stop acting like a teenager and accept that there comes nothing healthy with a relationship like this. But just when he enters the bathroom, he looks at the mirror and can't help laughing; it looks like he didn't give Edgar enough credit. Teres tries to imagine how embarrassed he had to be when he did this, writing his number with what seems to be lipstick.

"I didn't think that you were this kind of person", is what he writes, sending the text to the number from the mirror, the shower forgotten.

It's amusing enough that he apparently carries lipstick around with him because Teres doesn't posses anything which he could have used (later he does end up having one or two light tones and he wonders why Edgar would waste it on the mirror) but to think that he favours that over a simple note shows him a completely new side.

"You don't know me enough then", is the reply which follows in less than a minute and Teres isn't sure if he is just being arrogant or teasing – he shrugs and replies.

"Well, I don't know everything about your personality but your body is a well acquainted with my hands and mouth."

There is no reply for one week but Teres doesn't mind – he waited one year and if Edgar needs time adjusting to talk about these kind of thing, he'd give him that space.


It's the end of the week when Teres gets a message with a video attached to it which is surprising enough, but when he presses play, he sees a man he remembers to play with Edgar and a quick look on the flyer gives him his name – Philip Owen.

"We're currently in Bogotá and in a week we will have a premier", he explains, behind him what seems to be a room of a dance studio, or at least the mirrors hint at this possibility.

In the background he hears Edgar shout, asking for his phone and Philip turns around enough to show him a glimpse of the man before the video stops – he probably send it without Edgar's knowledge.

It leaves him confused but at the same time Teres is rather amused about this development. He didn't think much of it though, at least not until he gets another video two days later.

"Edgar, stop looking so miserable", Philip who is holding his friend's phone to film says.

There are two more people, women who he remembers from the stage as well, sitting at the table on what seems to be a balcony, the sun setting behind them.

"I'm not. Why are you even filming this?"

Teres has to snort. He obviously enough doesn't look too happy but the background makes him look too dramatic, especially with the glass wine in his hand; Teres feels stupid that he is relieved to see Edgar not sharing the wine they drunk together.

"This is a tour diary", Philip explains, "for private use, don't worry", he laughs after Edgar mutters to stop doing things for this damn video platform.

This piques his interest. Teres wonders whether there are other videos of him but since he saw nothing on the website the last time he visited it, he doubts that there is more. Edgar seems like someone who doesn't like it when people take photos of him and he wonders why, after all he looks really pretty; a few years later he asks him and gets the reply that photos don't catch enough of the feeling dancing can cause.

(Much later is Edgar comfortable enough to admit that he doesn't like watching himself.)


It's after a few months passing, not even half a year, when Teres opens the door to his apartment and comes face to face with the person he expected the least.

"Can you please stop starring?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm just... It's been a while", Teres replies, confusion outweighing the happiness he should normally feel when the person you are in love with (he had denied this, but during the last days he came to the conclusion that it's more than liking his dancing or a simple crush) comes visiting you.

"Is this all?", Edgar wants to know, amused and using this opportunity to tease him, taking in all of his expression but obviously enough not how good he looks after the last time they saw each other, his hair tied together and a shirt revealing his forearms.

"Why are you here?"

"We're on a break and I need some well deserved vacation. I like this city."

Now Teres is the one who isn't satisfied with his explanation, furrowing his brow and arms crossed in front of his chest.

"No, why are you here at my door?"

He doesn't realise how close this sounds to the last time they met each other, at least not until Edgar smirks, one hand on his hip while the other one rests on the bag which hangs around his shoulder.

"I'm just curious."

Normally it would cause Teres to clench his fists but the surprise slowly fades away and he can't help feeling happy to see the other one, and so he doesn't hesitate asking him inside, though also with a little sigh; he can't spoil Edgar too much, even though this is currently the only thing he actually wants to.

The dancer nods, doesn't mention that he didn't came here to say hello and then go back again, as tempting as it is.

"How long are you planning to stay?", Teres asks over his shoulder, leading Edgar who takes off his shoes at the front after closing the door, to the living room and turning down the volume of the T.V.

"A few days until I go back to London."

Edgar looks around, surprised that Teres was really no slob and that the cleanness he had seen the last time he had brought him here was no exception. The other one doesn't realise his glance around the room, busy with thinking about something else before he nods to himself, pleased with the conclusion he had come to.

"Well I suppose the space should be enough for us two these few days. Hey, don't look so surprised, or did you think I would let you pay for a hotel?", Teres laughs as soon as the sees the bewilderment on the other one's face; Edgar is gorgeous when he blushes and especially when he is trying to cover how flustered he is by scowling.

"Well, it be stupid to say no then."

Teres just laughs again.

"Philip seems like a good friend, you should keep him close."

Edgar opens his eyes, wondering why Teres has to break the silence like that, despite of liking his low voice, the sound in his ear. It's the middle of the day and probably too early to sleep, but with the sun coming trough the window while he is pressed against Teres' chest with his back after getting intimate, he can't bring himself to do anything else.

"He always does what he thinks best but he can be rather annoying."

Teres just hums, a kiss pressed against his temple. Edgar realised that he does this pretty often and he wonders why but at the same time he fears asking in case he stops, thinking that it might annoy the other one (in the end it were this little gestures which drew him towards Teres).

"I have the feeling that you think this way about everyone", Teres laughs lightly, sending a pleasant shiver down Edgar's spine and as much as he wants to deny this, he is sure that the other one is aware of the effects he has on him.

"You're not completely wrong."

It's the only verbal reply he gets, before he shifts in his grip and causes Teres to roll on his back, sitting on his hips. He does nothing more than that though, just looking at the other one and it takes Teres a moment to get that he simply wanted to break the moment, doesn't want to get accustomed to something which won't stay; Teres is glad that he isn't the only one who wants this between them to be more than an occasionally thing.

"Come on, I make us lunch", he says, hands on Edgar's thigh and moving his thumb in circles, a small gesture he allows himself.

Edgar begrudgingly gets out of bed, putting on a shirt he fishes from the floor and puts on some leggings, making his way to the kitchen barefoot. Teres on the other hand needs a moment, taking a deep breath before he puts on some clothes as well and follows him.

Edgar wrinkles his nose when he sees him, cupboards open as if he had searched for something.

"You don't have any tea", he says, pointing a finger at him and he never heard so much accusation and betrayal in one sentence; gently, he wraps a hand around Edgar's wrist and lowers his arm.

"I need to do some shopping anyway, so you can come along and we buy some tea for you."

There is no way Edgar misses how he talks to him, as if he wants to promise a little child that he can have ice cream, but before he can protest, the door rings and Teres kisses him as distraction so that he can open the door.

Teres doesn't really know who to expect, especially after Edgar's surprise visit, but looking back on it, he shouldn't have been surprised to see his mother standing there.

"Hola, tesoro", she greets her son, kissing him on the cheek like mothers do which she knows he can't stand since his first day of school, before she rushes past him towards the living room.

"I just wanted to ask you to cover the evening shift, we have to visit your grandma. The adults know the drill, there isn't much instruction to give", she explains, putting her bag and some folders on the table with a key.

She only stops talking when she enters the kitchen in order to make some coffee and spots Edgar sitting at the table.

"Edgar is welcomed to join as well", she says, smiling at him and then at her son because now this explains why he is so silent and doesn't complain like usual when she invades his little apartment.

"Thank you, Mrs Tolue", Edgar says, helplessly looking at Teres whose eyes are averted, not sure how to deal with this – it's not the first time that he has to cover for his parents and it's not like he had any plan for the evening but spending time with Edgar, getting to know him better.

"Don't worry, it's fine. Call me mamá, you two seem close enough that this might be more suited than anything formal", she goes on, not bothered by their silence or how uncomfortable they seem, brewing some water for her instant coffee while Teres wonders why she would start with that now.

However when looks at the shirt Edgar is wearing which doesn't belong to him, to big even though it might be comfortable, he groans which catches the other one's attention so that he looks down at himself; it takes all of his willpower not to turn away so that he can hide the blush.

"I'm counting on you two", she says, taking a sip of the coffee, grimacing because it doesn't suit her taste and kissing her son again before she takes her bag and is gone.

Teres clears his throat after a moment of silence in which Edgar had given in to his urge and hide his face, pouring the coffee away while making a mental note to buy some different brand as well, next to the tea.

"Leave it to mamá to embarrass anyone. Ah, since you are on vacation I doubt that you actually want to dance or -", Teres starts, turning to Edgar only to be interrupted by him.

"I don't mind."

Smiling, Teres shakes his head, amused how easy it is to read Edgar from time to time because as nonchalant as his reply seems, he does look excited. But so is he himself when he suddenly realises something, being in the possession of the universal key and not just the usual he has for the front door.

"Right, then lets go shopping and eat something small at a restaurant, I can make us something after practise", he announces and just when Edgar intends to head for the bath, he feels an arm wrapped around his waist.

"And before I forget", Teres adds, breath ghosting across Edgar's neck, "We have a pole in the studio."

Yes, blushing Edgar was really his favourite, Teres concludes after the dancer breaks free and shuts the door in front of his face, especially when they are at the dance studio and it turns out that the group they have that day practices their Tango Nuevo.

(These past days he gets to dance neither with Edgar, but considering the thinks they do instead, he doesn't mind it one bit.)