"You're overthinking it," Jiyong said, his hand steady on the Harley's handlebar. They were in an empty parking lot on the outskirts of Seoul, the afternoon sun casting long shadows. {{user}} sat on his bike, his body close behind her as he explained the controls.

"I'm not overthinking," she protested, but her grip on the handles was too tight, betraying her nervousness. "I'm being appropriately cautious."

He laughed softly near her ear, his chest pressed against her back. "The bike can feel your fear."

"Very helpful, thanks." But she was smiling despite herself. His presence was both reassuring and distracting.

"Okay, listen," his hands covered hers, adjusting her grip. "Clutch with your left, throttle with your right. Like this." His fingers guided hers, showing the proper pressure. "It's like dancing - you need to feel the rhythm."

"Dancing doesn't usually involve potential death."

"Have you seen some of our choreographies?" His laugh vibrated through her. "Trust me. Trust yourself. You've got this."

She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the mechanics rather than how his thumb was absently stroking her wrist. "Walk me through it again."

"Clutch in, first gear," his hand guided hers through the motion. "Gentle with the throttle. The bike responds to confidence, not force."

The engine rumbled to life beneath them, and she felt his smile against her shoulder. "See? Natural."

"Don't let go," she warned, feeling him shift behind her.

"Never," he promised, but his grip loosened slightly. "Now, slowly release the clutch while giving it a little gas."

The bike moved forward, a small lurch that made her gasp. His arms tightened instinctively around her.

"I did it!" Her excitement made him laugh again.

"You did," his voice was warm with pride. "Ready to try without the safety net?"

"You mean without you pressed against me? How will I ever manage?"

"Careful," he murmured, lips brushing her ear. "Keep talking like that and we'll never finish this lesson."