Dirty Dancing

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The afternoon spent in the lab proved very fruitful. As it turned out, manually making things with an Item Level way above what his current Skills were at was a very good way to get Skill EXP, especially when you also threw in Observing every part of the process and an ongoing lesson in the alchemical theory behind the crafting. And an Achievement:

Achievement Unlocked: Artisanal Ambition
Manually craft something with an Item Level at least 10 levels above both your Craft Skill and the relevant Crafting Discipline Skill.
No, a cum sock doesn’t count. No matter how crusty. No, not even if it grows a mushroom.
Reward: 50 EXP, +1 Craft Level, +1 Low Alchemy Level, creamy mushroom

He really could have done without being reminded of that greentext story though. Especially since the creamy mushroom was the priciest ingredient in one of the cum volume boosting elixirs from the formula collection he absorbed… But on the up side, that reward brought him to 6 new Skill Levels total in both Craft and Low Alchemy, taking them to 12 and 13 respectively. He had also thrown spare mana at Enhance Muscle, netting him a Level each in it and Biomancy.

For now, he was returning home for dinner, after which he was going to spend time with his mom. He had promised to let her teach him the basics of dancing, and the first lesson was tonight. Before all of that, though, he had a present for her, that he was making sure to carry physically from the Barrier Alley exit near his house.

He walked into the kitchen and found it empty save for the pots on the stove. Evidently, they weren’t having something that required constant supervision. Instead, he found Brenda in the living room, scrolling on the Kindle he had bought her for Christmas last year using money from Grandpa. She looked up as soon as he entered the room. “What do you have there, sweetie?”

“Something for you, actually. I, uh, know I’m pretty bad about helping out with cleaning and stuff, and you’re always picking up my slack. So I hoped this would help make up for it a little, and show that I am grateful for all your hard work,” he explained sheepishly, and placed the boxed vacuum on the living room table.

“Aww, thank you.” She got up and took a closer look, then looked back at John with slightly narrowed eyes. “And how did you get it? These things aren’t cheap…”

“Isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth supposed to be bad manners?”

His attempt at disarming banter was wholly unsuccessful as Brenda brought out the stern mother voice. “Not when I’m making sure my son isn’t overspending on presents, it isn’t.”

Even though it didn’t apply in this case, it still had him feeling guilty for the amount of past presents that Sam had ended up paying for because John had spent all of his allowance on games for himself. “Don’t worry, I won it.”

The raised eyebrow and continued stern expression made him realize that he had only really dug himself deeper if he didn’t elaborate on that in the right way. “In a game. Not gambling or anything, it was a promotional thing. Like those Facebook things where you reply with who you’d share a trip to the movies with to enter a raffle for a set of movie tickets or whatever. Except it was a game event. Doing that kind of crossovers with games is pretty normal in Asia, and is starting to happen in the West as well.”

“In that case, I can accept your gift with a clean conscience.” She mellowed into a smile and leaned in to take a closer look. “Cute logo. I’ve never heard of ‘Scrap Crow’ before.” The logo in question was a chibi crow, holding a cog in its beak.

“I hadn’t either, but apparently they specialize in using recycled materials, and the crow is something about the founding family’s history.” That was mostly true. The main detail he was omitting was that the family history thing was that the family were tengu. Which he knew because Qhila told him, while she knew because the prices she got paid for salvage by the lizardmen in the Market basement increased by about 10% after they struck a supply deal with said tengu family. Why Gaia would give him a reward with that kind of brand connections, he had no idea, but it sure did come in handy at the moment.

“Nice,” Brenda remarked with a nod, and flipped the box open, revealing the robot and charging station inside.

“I picked it up after school and charged it at Qhi- Kira’s, so I could have it set up and ready when I got home.” He pushed the button on top of the device. A display on the front powered on, displaying the word “Hello” for a few seconds before being replaced with a smiley face.

John moved the vacuum from the box to the carpet and pushed the button a second time, causing a mechanical voice to chirp out, “Carpet detected. Starting to vacuum.”

The robot began to trundle along, making quiet vacuuming sounds, while the eyes of the smiley face turned into delighted ‘^^’ symbols and the mouth was replaced with the word “nom”, bouncing slightly in place.

John did a mental fist pump as his mom made a delighted coo at the adorable display. Watching it go, he explained, “It’s bluetooth enabled, so you can use your phone to change the settings, or if you just need to find it. It’s supposed to be able to navigate doorsteps and even stairs somehow. In any case, I put your birthday in as the code, and named it, uh, Vlad the Inhaler.”

That prompted a giggle that was interrupted by an alarm on Brenda’s phone. “Oh, dinner is ready.”

After eating, they put Vlad in the kitchen and cleared out the coffee table and armchair from the living room floor to make space for dancing. That done, Brenda found some music on her phone but paused it after the first note and a half or so. “Now, I know that the ballroom dancing part of the Fall Formal probably isn’t the dancing that’s most interesting to you or your classmates, but I’m still going to use that to teach you the basics. It’s been years since I kept up with the clubbing and dancing scene, so I can’t really teach you anything that’s trendy at the moment.”

That was probably an accurate assessment of his peers in general. That said, the Academy was serious about keeping the classic ball parts of the event going strong, including naming a handful of couples “examples of cultured grace”. For the Ashcroft High part of the Academy, that title was only good for bragging rights, but for the prep school section’s Fall Formal, wealthy alumni donated prizes and they could be substantial. VIP tickets to this or that abounded, and people still talked about the year Vanessa, and John, started in Ashcroft High and her father donated a pair of brand new cars for the spectacle.

All of that was fairly irrelevant to John, though, as he didn’t currently have any intention of going. This whole dance lesson thing, he did mainly to make his mom happy, after his vagueness about what Marisa had helped him with put the idea in Brenda’s head. More importantly, “That works for me, but stop talking like you’re some kind of fossil. It’s been, what, a year and a half, since that cashier thought you were my sister?”

“Oh sweetie, he was just being flirty.” She made a dismissive gesture.

“Oh yeah, the guy working a non-tipped job and messing up at the register every time his male coworker bent over to stock the bottom shelf across from the counter was totally faking it to flirt.” John chuckled. “I’m pretty sure he was about as gay as a hypothetical guy who can dance with you and then complain about the freshness of your moves.”

A hint of red spread on Brenda’s cheeks. Pointing out that she was turning heads on guys closer to John’s age than hers was a surefire way to tease out a bit of embarrassment. Forging on, she cleared her throat and put the topic back on track. “In any case, dancing. Classical ballroom dances are based on a loop of relatively simple steps, that you can build flourishes on top of. Practicing also gets you used to moving in time to music, which helps with any kind of dancing to some degree.”

She started the music again and put her phone on the couch. “For most dancing, posture matters a lot. In ballroom dances, you need to stand up straight. You’ve been good at that lately, but it bears mention. Feet a little further apart, so they’re right beneath your shoulders.”

Brenda nodded as he made a small adjustment and stepped in close. “Hold my right hand with your left like this. Put your right hand on my back below the shoulder. A bit lower. Then you take a step forward with your left foot.”

They ran through the waltz box step a few times before she thought it was time to try to synchronize it to the music, then a whole bunch more at the proper pace. Over time, they worked in a few simple flourishes, before Brenda decided that they were switching to the basics of a different dance.

They covered the basics of waltz, foxtrot and swing. John wasn’t keeping track of the time while they did so, and the looping tunes they were doing it to were no particular help either, but given how dark it had gotten outside, they must have been at it for a few hours.

During that time, he had worked up a light sweat. Much to his surprise, this was far less than his mother had, as her face was moderately flushed and her breathing heavy. In light of his stat growths, it shouldn’t be surprising, but it was a more visceral demonstration than even the game of longball in PE, because Brenda had always taken care to keep in shape, and often leveled light teasing at him when he was left a bit short on breath from helping her clean.

All the while, she was smiling radiantly, and her clear blue eyes were aglow with joy. It was clear that he had made her weekend, and possibly her whole week, by saying yes to this, and that alone made it more than worth the time.

Sliding her hand out of his, Brenda went to pick up her cellphone. “One last thing, before I let you off the hook. It’s a quicker one though, since there isn’t really any timing or precision to practice. It’s just about recognizing signs and how to respond to them.”

That had him curious for a moment before the music changed to a much slower piece. “Like in regular dancing, most girls prefer the guy to lead in slow dancing. But it’s a different kind of leading, less about keeping the timing and signaling steps, and more about gauging the right level of intimacy.”

She returned and put her hand in his again, assuming the default position for swing. “Starting from the neutral position of whatever dance came before. If your partner doesn’t look, or turn, towards the edge of the dancefloor, she is likely interested in dancing more intimately.

“To be safe, you can test this by pulling her very softly towards you.” She paused briefly, which John took as a prompt to do just that. Brenda followed the light pull, closing half the distance between them before stepping back again. “If she follows, she definitely wants to. And if she pulls a stunt like I just did, she’s probably trying to goad you to go for it more assertively. Doubly so if her stance is leaning a bit towards you,” Brenda’s already was, but she did so a little more for emphasis, “and if she was doing so to begin with, you can probably skip straight to assertive.”

Taking that as a suggestion, he stepped in until they were as close as during the waltz, earning a pleased hum. “Mhmm, like that. Now, I’m always on board with snuggles, but if it’s someone who isn’t used to hugging in public, it’s best to put your hands at her sides in case going for an enveloping embrace is moving a bit too fast.”

She nodded in affirmation as he moved his hands from around her back to the outward curve where Brenda’s waist flared widely into her hips. “Now, if doing that has her looking a tiny bit disappointed, that’s permission to go further, of course. Beyond that, if she pushes herself against you slightly or moves her hands from your upper arms to your shoulders or her arms around your neck, she wants more.”

“Well, your arms are already around my neck…”

“I did say that I am always on board with snuggles.” She shrugged with a wink.

He chuckled and put his arms around her. “I guess you did.”

She leaned against him, resting her cheek against his shoulder as they swayed to the instrumental ballad. “From here on out, it’s mostly just matching closeness to closeness, and advancing slowly so you can tell if she follows your lead. But there is one, let’s call it advanced technique, you can use.

“If you’ve gotten to this point, it’s basically certain that at least a part of her wishes that you were alone. Even if that isn’t an option, or if she isn’t fully ready for that yet, you can feed into that wish by helping her shut the rest of the world out a bit and make her feel enveloped by your embrace. Bend down and loom just a tiny bit, and put your hands on her lower back. Just a little, too much makes for an uncomfortable stance and an awkward feeling, but a little bit goes a long way. As an added bonus, it makes it easier for short girls to reach around the back of your neck. And if she’s the racy type and the lighting is dim enough for plausible deniability, she may be fine with your hand slipping a bit lower…”

They swayed together to the music for a bit, which came with a serious problem. During the waltz, he had had the precision and timing of the steps to focus on, making it easy to not think too much about any sensations. The minor adjustments to his stance to perfect the enveloping embrace did not offer anywhere near the same level of distraction.

The soft scent of lavender and a home cooked meal rising from her hair was manageable. The feeling of her body leaning into his, however, was uncomfortably pleasant. Especially her giant breasts squished against his chest felt horribly enticing.

Not knowing what to do about this, John suffered the conflicting feelings in silence until Brenda lifted her head from his shoulder. Looking at him through half-lidded eyes, face slightly upturned, she whispered, “Finally, if you’re slow dancing and she looks at you like this, that means she wants… That she wants a kiss…”

Thoughts addled by wrestling with conflicting feelings, in that moment the flush in Brenda’s face and the heaviness of her breathing did not look to him like the result of exercise. In his eyes, her face was akin to Qhila in the grip of heat or June in the throes of passion.

He only realized he was moving when his nose bumped into hers. Recoiling as his mind caught up to the insanity he had been about to commit, he was only halfway faking the coughing fit he hoped would somehow look like the cause of everything.

His mom looked disoriented for a moment, blinking in confusion, before she averted her gaze and turned to the phone, still playing a soft ballad from the couch. “I- That will be all. We should head to bed- sleep. We should head to sleep. We have work and school tomorrow, and all that.”

“That’s- Yes. Sleep. Yes. Let’s do that.” He was already turning towards the door as he responded, not trusting himself enough to keep her in his field of vision while she bent over for the phone.

On the way to his room, a thousand thoughts and feelings were churning through his head, foremost among them being shame and guilt. Still, he couldn’t fully shake the arousal that had awoken during that moment before he regained his senses, nor the bitter thought that none of this might have happened if the Developer hadn’t thrown a continuous stream of LIB increases at him. That feeling was not at all helped by a window appearing before him, which he made to fade without even reading. While there was a possibility that it brought with it something important, he was in the mood for neither sass nor voyeuristic glee at the moment.

Once inside his room, he locked the door. In case he lost his head again, that small delay might just bring back his ability to reason. He had also come to the conclusion that he was too tired to deal with this mess in his head right now. He was greatly tempted to switch the power cable from his second monitor to his PC and distract himself with gaming until he was just about falling asleep in his chair, but the need to even change cables around existed because he was still digitally grounded and he had been a bad enough son already today. Fortunately, his powers came with another option that would probably also be more likely to see him refreshed enough to deal with this shit when he got up.