Dance Lessons
by K. Stonham
first released 19th September 2022
Jim came wide-eyed to Douxie in the middle of the afternoon. "Um," he said.
Douxie paused in his project - making lacing cord to replace his fraying shoelaces, four-stranded, with a different enchantment laid upon each strand - and looked at his brother. "'Um'?"
"Mother-son dance," Jim said despairingly.
"So...?"
"Doux, I can't dance!"
Douxie rolled his eyes. "I know you went to that school dance with Claire, and I don't think she'd've been as happy as she was if you couldn't."
"That's just, like, swaying and stuff," Jim protested. "Seriously, I'm supposed to dance with my mom? At the reception? And I can't dance."
The automatic motion of Douxie's hands stopped as he stared at Jim. The idea of not being able to dance was just... so laughably incomprehensible that he had no idea where to start. Finally, he said, "I can dance. I can teach you."
"Like, waltzing or..."
Douxie breathed a laugh. "Waltzing, sure. If there's a style of dance I can't do, it's only because I haven't encountered it yet."
Jim scoffed. "Come on, you're a musician. You're the one playing the music, not the one dancing to it."
Douxie's eyes narrowed. "You sound like you don't want me to teach you."
"No no no!" Jim waved his hands frantically. "I didn't say that! Just... all kinds of dancing?"
Douxie shrugged. "Things to fill the years. And dancing's fun."
"For you, maybe," Jim muttered.
Douxie eyed him for a second, then pulled out his phone and thumbed through the apps, finding the song he wanted. Setting it down atop his project, he shook his arms out, rolled his shoulders, and pressed play. The opening strings of Madonna's "Vogue" sounded.
By the end of the song, Jim's eyes were even wider than before and his mouth was opened in incredulity.
"I can breakdance, I can do ballet en pointe... Jim, seriously, dance is one of the things I'm good at," Douxie told him, walking back over.
Jim blinked a few times before recovering his mental balance. "That was..." His voice trailed off. "All kinds of dance?" he asked plaintively.
Douxie grinned, nodding.
Then a thought seemed to occur to Jim. "Exotic?" he asked suspiciously.
Douxie didn't reply. But neither did his smirk drop away.
"Ugh." Jim clapped a hand over his eyes. "I do not want to know. Never tell me," he implored.
"You are such a Puritan sometimes," Douxie commented. "But fine. I solemnly swear never to detail my adventures in exotic dancing to you, my delicate little flower of a little brother."
"Thank you," said Jim. His hand fell away. "So. Dance lessons?"
Author's Notes: This might be a scene from Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet... but so far as the plot has let me know in advance, this does not fit how it will go. So, please, enjoy it on its own.