The Dance

“Well, that was... unexpected,” you declared, dusting off your hanbok.

“Did she say yes?,” Jennie ran over.

“Yeah! I didn't think it would work.”

You'd just gone to Juhyeon’s house to invite her for a divination. She was warm and receptive, smiling the whole time you were in conversation. And honestly, it took more effort to contain your giddiness in rushing home that it did to stamp down your mania while talking to her in the first place.

“When’s she coming over?”

“Day after tomorrow,” you replied, taking a seat and taking off your hat.

“Congrats! That’s one step closer. How you feelin’?”

“Honestly? Mostly excited, a little scared,” you rubbed your neck, raw from the sun. “Like, obviously I'm not actually just doing the divination, am I?”

“Good, you're not a hopeless case after all,” she teased.

“But... what am I actually supposed to do?”

“Bro, I’m not the one who knows this girl. That's all you.” Jennie took a seat right next to you. “Okay. Let’s go through it then. Any hobbies?”

“Pansori? I think,” you pondered. “I’m not sure.”

“Are you really in love with this girl?,” Jennie scoffed.

“You said I was.”

“No, I said you looked like you were in love. Something told me you weren't really ‘in love’, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt,” she poked.

“Really? You can tell that?”

Jennie shot you a dirty look. “Hello? Spirit? Of course I can. It's a gi thing.”

Right. Jennie being very real and very casual for nearly a week now blurred the line between this reality and hers. “Sorry.”

“Hey. If I was a dokkaebi, I'd totally love that you're forgetting I'm a spirit. So take me reminding you of this as proof I'm not one.” She pinched your cheek and pulled you closer. “I'm still a spirit. Don't get too close.”

“Ow, alright,” you rubbed the spot she pinched you.

“Don’t overthink it dude. Offer tea, strike up a conversation, and figure out if you love her,” she said.

“I do love her.”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

You paused. “I want to love her.”

Jennie nodded, more reverently this time. “There we go. Good on you for being honest to yourself.”

“She’s nice to me, you know? All these other girls in the village go head over heels for those bastards, but she actively rejects them.”

Jennie stared at you.

“And she said yes! To me! And not that son of a bitch Injeong.”

“Ooh, feisty,” Jennie cooed. “I thought you were entirely incapable of being vulgar. Spill.”

Injeong. Bastard son of the provincial governor, ringleader of those seoja boys, a “yangban clique” of their own delusion. No one could lay a finger on them, but it was Injeong who actively played that card on their behalf. All the women either feigned or foolishly believed in their love for him. But a bad heart always stains the best faces, your father used to say (paraphrasing, at least).

You sighed in exasperation. “No. It was an unnecessary outburst.”

“Sounded necessary to me,” she shrugged. “Fine. Maybe let's process more pragmatically: is he an actual threat to you and Juhyeon?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “He's been actively courting her too. And knowing him, he's just getting her to vaguely say yes so he can ask her parents already.”

“And to Juhyeon?”

“I... don’t know,” you rubbed your head. "I’m hoping she’s unconvinced.”

“Then perhaps day after tomorrow’s divination will be the answer to that,” she rubbed your shoulder.

“Alright.” You sighed. “Lunch?”

“Please,” Jennie groaned. “I'm starving.”

Speak of the devil, and he marches forth. You could hear Injeong and his posse laughing and stomping about from quite a ways away. Loud enough was their announced arrival that it disrupted your ritual preparations for the morning, and you quickly shooed your dropped client through a back door of your hut.

“Hey, if it isn’t the freakshow,” Injeong chuckled, tossing a stone in his hands. So too did the crowd of ten or twelve men around him, of varying shapes and sizes — both bodies and rocks.

“Taehyung? What’s happening?,” Jennie asked, though you ignored her to preserve her invisibility.

“What do you want, Injeong?”

“You know,” he laughed, “the magistrate still needs some servants. I’ll put in a good word for a bum like you.” He stepped into your gate, uninvited. “All you gotta do is renounce your practice.”

You gestured at the empty house. “I have everything I need. Your pity is not included. Piss off.”

A rock was hurled into your house from far back, destroying stack of porcelain bowls you used for divinations. Howls of celebration roared from behind Injeong, and he himself smirked in amusement.

“Really?,” he dared. “For how much longer?”

In an instant, the rocks were hurled into your common area, barreling into soft wood and dried earthenware. Some were for personal use; others were for rituals. Paintings, scrolls, and wooden panels fell. And you witnessed it all get destroyed from under your arms, curling yourself up to protect against the pelting of rocks against your back.

When the carnage stopped, you looked up again. A bigger crowd had materialized, whispering to themselves.

“The poor boy. Why won’t he just leave his mother to do the rituals instead?”

“How barbaric! What can we even do?”

“Hey lady, shut up! This monster can send demons to haunt you in your sleep!”

“Do you wanna have a miscarriage? Quickly now, ignore them.”

Injeong stood there, still tossing his rock. And then, he threw his arm back, and let it loose.

Bang. It hit you on the side of your head. You saw white, and black, and red, and yellow, and all the colors the body naturally could muster. You stopped thinking, breathing, moving, the numbness dialing into pain little by little. You could taste iron in your mouth, and smell dust in the air as they left. More feet marched on, presumably chased by town guards.

You crawled, one nail-scratching pull against the floor, until you could feel it tear at the edges of your nailbeds, until you could feel the paper doors, and you closed them. Holes were punctured through the paper, but you needed to hide.

You slowly regained your hearing and your breathing. You gasped for air, your eardrums thumping and ringing. Faintly, Jennie’s voice came into being.

“Taehyung!,” she cried out. “Stay still, please.”

You jolted up, your head still hazy.

“Let me take a look,” Jennie urged.

“Jennie, it’s fine,” you dismissed, shaking your head weakly. “It’s just a scrape.”

“No, hey, show me the—”

“Please, it’s not a big deal, it’s just—”

A gust of wind tumbled you deeper into the house, landing square on your back on the mat. Jennie appeared by your head, scanning the tender and swelling spot on your head. It was an open cut; bleeding, though not profusely, but a tear in your flesh nonetheless.

“Do not test me, Taehyung,” Jennie said sternly, before exhaling sharply and laying her hands on your wound. After a full minute, it clotted with a gigantic scab; after another, a soft, fragile layer of skin covered it up.

“There, geez,” Jennie shook her head and scoffed. She offered you a hand and helped you up on your knees.

“Get some rest,” she commanded, “I’m going back to my shrine.”

“Jennie—”

She glared at you, eyes fiery and burning deep into your bones. “How are you gonna show love to a woman if you don’t know how to receive love properly?,” she chided. “Reflect on that, idiot.” And with a subtle whoosh of air on your chest — which burned, like a soft, gently punch — she was gone.

You crawled to your bed and closed your eyes, though sleep didn’t come for you until later. Your thoughts ran wild with Jennie’s last words.

You woke up just in time for dinner. You prepared the usual meal, left it at the shrine, and ate quietly by the opposite corner of the room. It took a while longer, but Jennie materialized again, ate her food, and sat there, toying with a broken instrument.

She looked distraught. Not even angry, or indignant — simply worried. And you understood what that face meant. How a spirit like her could feel that way was beyond you; but if she did, she sure felt it clearly.

You moved closer, quietly; she didn’t budge. You offered her more of your food, and she placed it back on your bowl quietly. You repeated, and she repeated, and the both of you smirked under your breaths.

“You need the sustenance,” she whispered. “I’m a spirit.”

“It’s my way of saying thanks,” you rebutted. “Thank you.”

“If you died, I would have been stuck here, you know,” she shot you a look.

“Mother will release you.” She slapped your arm with her sleeve, and you ate in silence.

“Taehyung?”

“Hm?”

“You were… brave,” she continued. “You are brave. I hope you know that.”

You sighed. “When you’re a male shaman like me, you have to be.”

“I know,” she frowned. “But bravery can be a fault too. The spectrum of pride ends in arrogance too. Hubris.”

“Hyu-bis? What’s that?”

“I-I don’t know, I just know the word,” she chuckled, and you shared a more sincere laugh.

She leaned closer to you and placed her head on your shoulder. “Please take care of yourself, okay? I won’t be able to protect you once this whole Juhyeon thing is over and you have to release me back into the spirit world.”

“I’ll try.”

She kissed you on the cheek. “Thanks for the food.” Before you could react, she had retreated with a faint, spiritual giggle.

Your cheek felt warm, until you slept that night.

In your dream, the sky fell dark and hazy, almost like your injury. But it was different — you smelled a lot more, felt a lot more. It was hot, sweltering, searing, smoking; your chest heaved, rasping, scraping. The darkness turned ash gray, then a sooty red, before flashing into an blazing, burning white.

The moon was high in the sky. Birds chirped and bats clicked, the wind rustled the trees and bamboo leaves.

Tomorrow was a big day. You’d made a plan with Jennie the whole afternoon, repairing what you could and buying what you could replace discreetly. You thought about what to say, rehearsed what you could, brought out what you could display. By the time you settled, you had just enough to carry out a divination ritual for tomorrow, and a significantly less cluttered common room, but nothing more; Jennie would have to do the heavy lifting tomorrow once the ball started rolling.

But as you lay quietly, something felt… weird. Some sense of uncertainty, a nagging feeling. Earlier that day, you and Jennie had a conversation about “the last part” of her visit.

“Okay, so,” Jennie began. “One last thing: you gonna kiss her?”

You were taken aback. “That’s nonsense. No. Never! Her dignity. My dignity! Why would you even suggest that?”

She shrugged. “Dude, relax. It’s normal. Sometimes, after a really good time together, you’d wanna seal it with a kiss. It happens. As long as she does it first. It’d be weird if it was you.”

You scratched your head. “Wouldn’t I have to ask her parents for permission to even do that?”

“I mean, yeah, at some point,” Jennie scoffed. “But like I said. If she makes a move, you know what to do, right?”

Hence your unease, and why you you walked up to the altar, calling Jennie in.

“Taehyung? It’s night out here, what’s up?”

“I-I’ve never kissed a girl before.”

“You woke me up to tell me you’re a virgin? Okay, cool, get some rest,” Jennie groaned.

“No, I mean—what do I do tomorrow? I don’t have an answer to our conversation earlier.”

“About the making a move thing? I don’t know, ask her out on another date?,” she groaned. “Please, stop worrying and sleep.”

“I have no idea how to touch a woman, and you’re telling me that the plan involves it?!”

“Yeah? Bro, what are you—”

You interrupted Jennie by grabbing her face and kissing her. You’re not sure what came over you, but you did.

“Did I do that correctly?,” you asked.

Jennie stared at you dumbfounded, before slapping you in the face.

“Ow!”

“No, you didn’t. Never, and I repeat, never start any of this without asking her first. Rape isn’t cool, dude.”

“Wha—”

“Secondly,” she said, “take her face more gently. She’s a human being like you. Like this.” She grabbed your hand gently and placed it on hers, rubbing your thumb over her cheek. “Gentle, see? Doesn’t that feel good?”

“O-okay,” you nodded, adrenaline still in your veins. “S-sorry for earlier.”

“It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. Sorta. With how many shitheads I’ve seen haunted for not asking for consent, I needed to make a point. Because I like you. Just don’t do that again, okay?” She approached your face. “Now, don’t rush. Let the tension happen. And then…”

She placed her lips on yours, gently. It was soft, warm, and gentle, and all other feelings of comfort that you envisioned love to be. One smooth motion of her lips and she parted away from you, before coming back in again. She drifted away for a second, and you followed yourself through, meeting her this time. Back and forth, your lips chased after each other for a few more minutes; your tongue met hers, and they slowly met, writhing and twirling around each other, as if digging for more.

“Yes, just like that,” Jennie giggled. “Don’t rush.” You broke away, heart pounding in your chest.

Jennie smirked as she slowly undid her hanbok to reveal her bare breasts. They were perky and soft, not so heavy or overwhelmingly huge, but definitely present, grabbable. “These are the first of her delicate parts,” she continued, circling her nipples with both hands. “You can do this,” before squeezing her breasts, filling her hands, “or this. Not too hard. They’re not toys.”

You reached out slowly before Jennie grabbed your wrist and held it against her chest. They did, in fact, fill your palms, the fat sculpting around your fingers.

“Mmm, good, now squeeze.” You followed her command, and she moaned in approval. You kneaded them slowly, and her lips curled into a relaxed smile, her bottom lip bitten in subdued pleasure. You continued, waiting for more instruction.

“You can kiss me still,” she invited, and you went for it. You kept at it until you felt yourself sinking deeper into her grasp, as if being absorbed; but she was, indeed, no dokkaebi, and it was your heart that fell deeper into her.

Again, you followed what you felt the deepest instincts in you called for, and you met her nipples with your tongue, toying around with them as you did her tongue earlier. She gasped in shock, pleased with your experimentation.

“Mmmh, yes, that feels so good,” she praised, grabbing the back of your hair in a handful and pressing you harder on her. “You’re a natural.”

Jennie then parted her legs to reveal her folds, wet and glistening. She pulled you away from your chest, hand still grasped around your hair, and made you look down.

“This is the second half of her delicate parts. Probably the better one,” she giggled.

She moved your hand towards it, and you hesitated. “I-I can’t, Jennie.”

“Why? Is it because you don’t want to?,” she pried.

“Because it feels wrong that it’s you,” you whispered.

“Ouch,” Jennie teased. “Bro, if you’re gonna try and cozy up to her tomorrow, you gotta know what you’re doing.”

Letting go of your hand — the other still very much on your hair, this time more to pat than to grope — she slowly swirled a finger around her labia, the flaps squishing against her fingers. Each pass she made eked out a moan from her pursed lips, and her finger slowly circled the apex of her core. “Try to look for this,” she instructed, before curling her finger up in slow, steady flicks. Her mouth yiielded, blurting out her moans loudly and clearly.

The pure erotica of her voice, mildly cracking at her ecstasy, had your undergarments strained against your erection.

She let go, licked her finger clean, and wiped it dry; again, she reached for your hand, and this time you felt yourself loosen up as she hovered it over her lips. They were warm, wet and sticky, and definitely sensitive to the touch, as Jennie yelped aloud once you first made contact with the fleshy core.

“Jennie, the neighbors…,” you hissed.

“Sorry,” she heaved, “it’s been a while since I had this.” She guided your hand around the same motions until you did it yourself, ever so delicately. She would moan and whimper with each pleasurable touch, and though she held you back or pushed you faster at times, you let your hand do all the work.

She lifted it up, and placed it in your mouth. Electric, funky, slimy — the taste was one you never expected. And she continued by sliding your fingers in all the way, and it felt even more warm and wet than earlier.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Ahem. Now, you’re gonna rub upwards, like the roof of it? If you can imagine it,” she laughed. You did your best to follow, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

“Hah, not so rough, you might hurt her,” she winced. “Gentle. Slow down. Use your fingertips.”

You followed, again successfully, confirmed by her moans. She rolled her hips against your hand, her moans climbing in intensity.

“Hah, shit, I haven’t felt this in ages,” she gasped. “Just like that.” Her face shifted between still breathing and contorted moaning, and as her features — the curve of her cheeks and her breasts, the lightness of her skin, the natural plumpness of her features — you felt your chest ache.

“Jennie—”

“Yes?,” she smiled. “Say what you’re thinking, baby.”

“Jennie, you’re beautiful.”

“Good, like that,” she giggled. “Your voice is cute when it’s husky like that.”

“Your breasts are… perfect. And the way you smile is so… so… damn, I have no words for you, you’re just so damn pretty when you moan.”

Jennie let out a loud moan guised as a laugh. “Shit, babe, you’re a natural. Fuck, I’m going to finish. Don’t stop, even when she starts tightening up. Speed up only a bit.”

You tried and followed, making her moans climb to a squeal. In and out your finger motioned, and you felt a strain in your arm as you chased after it. You felt a slight concern as you essentially punched your digit deeper inside her, but her writhing and stuttered breathing signalled that was the right thing and heading in the right direction. You pushed on, pistoning in and out of her.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna— fuck!”

She clamped her legs between your fingers, trapping your hand. You felt a slimy liquid ooze between your fingers, coating it fully. When you pulled it out, it cooled almost instantly.

“Wanna do something sexy?,” Jennie smiled. You nodded, and she made you taste your fingers. The feeling on your tongue was stronger now, electric and prickly, slightly pungent — but, for some inexplicable reason, it excited you to your core, and you could feel your length peek out of your waistband, still hidden under your robes.

“How did that feel?,” Jennie asked, catching her breath.

“A lot more… physical than I thought.”

“Hah! Wait till you get to actual sex,” she teased. “Baby steps. Did you like it though?”

“Y-yeah, a lot. You looked… really good.”

“Don’t go falling for me,” she purred at you. “Thought you said I was a dokkaebi?”

“Forget that,” you growled. “You’re clear.” She grinned.

“So… any other questions?,” she asked. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but stare again at Jennie’s body, breasts exposed underneath her hanbok, smooth legs exposed, hair in a puffy mess that fell over her face just right, and a half-open mouth that just made your brain go wild.

“Um… how about me?”

“Sorry?,” she raised an eyebrow.

“Like… how is it going to… you know, feel like for me?,” you asked cautiously.

Jennie smiled, less mischief and more excitement of a kind unknown to you. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Y-Yes,” you hesitated, before steeling your resolve. “Yes.”

Jennie crawled towards you on all fours like a tiger ready to pounce. But instead of jumping you, she just approached your pants and slid them down with a single finger. Your erect cock sprang as it was released from its confines, hot inside but cold on its surface.

“Mmm, fuck,” she licked her lips. “This will be fun.”

She grabbed it with a single hand, feeling its weight on her palm. Her fingers felt like ice, but shocked your shaft into life. She rubbed it gently before giving the tip a single kiss. Your breath hitched — you’ve never felt this way before. Jennie stopped, leaving you twitching in her palm.

“P-please…,” you muttered. Jennie smirked.

“I’m gonna be real with you,” she continued. “This Juhyeon girl doesn’t sound very… daring. So I can’t guarantee she’s gonna do this tomorrow. But if she does, she’s gonna do one of two things: use her hand, or use her mouth. Both, if she is daring, and maybe something else if she’s crazy for you.”

“Something… else?”

“Oh, I’d love to teach that to you, babe,” she said, kissing you on the lips once. “But like I said, baby steps.”

She laid down on her stomach, face right next to your manhood. The sight felt… empowering, witnessing Jennie look longingly at your length.

“Fuck,” you whispered. She just giggled at your desperation, and you pursed your lips at the profanity.

“Easy, tiger,” she cooed, “this is for Juhyeon, not me.”

She breathed on it, the cold air making you twitch. “Are you sure you want this?” You nodded.

She slowly wrapped her mouth around your tip, making your breath tremble. She kept easing you in, still giggling at your shock, until she took you in all the way.

Then she went the other way. She pushed her tongue against the underside, allowing the texture of it to do all the work against your ridges. She pushed the tip of her tongue hard against you, until you suddenly forced your hip up.

“Mmmh,” she gagged, letting go of you. “Please try not to do that, especially if she’s… sensitive,” she warned. “You’re lucky I love doing this.”

She repeated her motions slowly, Jennie’s lips pressed firm until her cheeks caved. Her eyes were transfixed on you still as she bobbed her head up and down. Every slide left a trail of spit that thickened and slowly rolled down your hilt, and by the sheer energy emanating from her, you could tell she was heavily subduing herself.

She led your hand to the top of her head, and you winced, feeling a shame overcome you, but she held it as she made you guide her movement. You pushed her face down into you slowly, even slower than her original pace, and in an instant you directed her movements.

You could already feel something bubble.

She let go and spat on the tip, coating the rest of your shaft with her fingers. She started stroking you with a firm grip, slow and slick. Whenever it dried up, she spat on it again and changed hands, until she started stroking with both hands, fingers intertwined like holding a bundle of incense.

“You like this, babe?,” she grinned. “You feel something about to release?”

“Y-yes, f-fuck,” you hissed behind gritted teeth. Her pace sped up, her grip tightened, and you felt your abdomen crunch up.

“Good. Let go of it. Cum,” she ordered. “Imagine releasing it on Juhyeon. On her face, on her chest, all over her body. Claim her. Cum.” She stuck out her tongue and gaped her mouth wide.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Your vision went white for a brief second, and as you opened your eyes, you thrusted and spurted rope after rope all over Jennie. She giggled, amused at how much you released, tasting a bit that had gotten on her fingers. She licked them finger by finger, until the white release on her skin had disappeared into her.

“Mmm, tasty,” she cooed. “Juhyeon would love to taste this.”

She crawled over to you once more, making you lie down with her on top of you.

“So,” she started, “last level.” She sat up on your thighs, undoing her top and her skirt completely. “Don’t hesitate to say ‘stop,’ okay? You have consent too. Do you wanna do this?”

You froze. This was going too fast. “I-I can’t do this,” you uttered, a wave of cold coming over you.

“Okay,” Jennie replied, “calm down. It’s okay.” She pulled you up and embraced you tightly, her skin warm against you. Her legs wrapped around you, and you felt the warmth of her core radiate down on yours, slowly loosening and becoming flaccid.

“No, Jennie,” you yielded, the shame in your chest bubbling up and out of your eyes. “I want to. But I can’t. It— this feels wrong.”

“I get it, it’s okay,” she hugged you, rubbing your head. “I wanted to help you, okay? Don’t fret.” She rested your head on her shoulder and you let out your tears — tears you had no idea where they came from, tears you were relieved Jennie didn’t see.

You breathed shakily, unsure what to say next.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Jennie asked.

“You’re a spirit,” you mumbled. “This shouldn’t happen.”

“Yet it did. I did,” Jennie thought aloud. “You’re right, this shouldn’t happen. But we did this. Maybe… maybe this is part of the request, you know? You asked for help because you’ve never done it, and here you are, learning it for Juhyeon.”

“Because I’m still trying to learn how to love Juhyeon.”

“Right,” Jennie nodded. “You’re a natural, babe.”

“T-thanks,” you muttered, slowly getting up. When you looked back, Jennie was right behind you, all cleaned up like nothing had happened. You scoffed, and she smirked.

“That’s not fair,” you whined. “You’re ethereal.”

“I know I am,” she teased, poking your nose. “Now go to sleep.”

You laid on the floor, exhaustion overtaking you, thinking only of one thing:

Jennie.

Jennie’s hair, falling over her face; Jennie’s body, perfectly petite and tight; Jennie’s smile, warm, inviting, and mysterious.

Just Jennie.

You were falling for Jennie.