Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Minho:

 “...You refuse to touch me-every single time we’ve so much as brushed against each other you snatch away like I’ve hit you. You barely even look me in the face, and this is the most youve said to me at one time the whole night. I don’t have to be a genius to get the hints, Hyung .”

He sits there for several seconds, just shocked, blinking rapidly as he processes what Seungmin just said, not even aware that his hand is still wrapped around the other’s wrist. Did I really seem that disinterested? He knew careful disinterest was his usual MO, but that wasn't even a thought to him tonight. He’d been spending so much time trying not to overstep, not to scare him with how eager he was, trying hard not to shift things between them too quickly on their first date. He glances around to make sure they aren't drawing any attention; their table is towards the back and thankfully the nearby tables are empty. He shifts his gaze back to Seungmin’s and what he sees there finally has him release his grip. Are those tears?

The moment his grip loosens Seungmin takes a deep breath, mutters a bitter “Fuck this,” and moves to get up.

“Seungminnie, wait. Wait! Please. I’m sorry. Let me-let me explain.” The look on his face tells Minho that that’s the last thing he wants to do, but thankfully, he settles back into his chair. How could he have fucked up this bad, this quickly? Only him. Where do I even start? How do I tell him I didn't want to talk about the movie because I don't remember it? How could I think I could be good for him if I make him cry this quickly? Unbidden, his best friend’s voice pops into his head: “Just be truthful. It's not fair to be anything else.” If this fucks up, too, he will never let Chan live it down.

“This is going to sound awful, but please , let me get this out before you leave, okay?” Those beautiful eyes are still sparkling for all the wrong reasons, and his bottom lip is trembling, but thankfully, Seungmin nods his assent. Taking a deep breath, he continues, “I didn't want to talk about the movie because…well, I don’t remember it. None of it. No, don’t cry- listen! It's not that I wasn’t interested! I was looking forward to that movie all week, I promise. I-I just…oh, hell . IcouldntstopthinkingaboutholdingyourhandandIcouldntpayattention .”

…

…

…

Silence. His ears could not possibly feel more hot. He’d looked down in the middle of that rushed confession, and all he could think was please say something please say something please until he finally found the courage to look up. Seungmin’s head is tilted to the side, mouth hung open, eyes clearly confused. 

“You wanna try that again, Hyung?”

Fuck. Okay, deep breath. Now, more than ever, is not the time for ego, or self preservation. He thinks back to that first time he’d really known what he felt for the person sitting across from him, and remembers how much he felt the need to protect him-any of his own embarrassment pales in comparison to the urgent way he wants to stop those tears. But none of those thoughts do absolutely anything to ease how nervously his explanation spills from his lips.

“I couldn’t concentrate on the movie.” He’d already said this once, he could do it again. “All I could think about was-was how close your hand was. And how easy it would be to just…grab it.” As he speaks, the confusion and the tears slowly melt away, and are replaced by something more difficult to read. Progress? “But I was scared it would be too much, too soon. You were so into the movie, you weren't even really paying me any attention, which, now that I think about it, is kinda how it's supposed to be at the movies, but-. I just-. Fuck, I just didn't want to mess this up. And whenever we touched, it just made me want to touch you more , and I’ve been sitting here like a wreck the whole night just trying to do this right .”

Here, he has to pause. He’s so overwhelmed by his own emotions, and he still can’t quite read what’s on Seungmin’s face, and he just wants to rewind the night so he can do better, be better. “I’m sorry, Seungminnie. I can’t believe I didn’t notice how this was affecting you. Actually, I can believe it. You’re right-I was avoiding just looking at you, too. I always do. Looking at you makes me forget how to breathe, and I just didn't want to fuck this up but I guess I already did and- Why are you laughing?”

///

Jisung’s laughter rings bright through the campus cafe, the room quieter than he would have expected. He’s never been to this cafe at night, didn't even know it was open, but Sungie had dragged him and Chan to it, eager to show them “something cool”. His mood today is such that he really should have stayed home, but a pouting Sungie is hard for anyone to resist, and Minho has never been strong against him. 

In the darkness of their table, he tunes out the conversation around him and studies the cafe. Fairy lights twinkle along the edges of the ceiling, LED candles sit in the middle of each table, and the brightest light in the room is the soft spotlight pointed to the raised platform Minho had never really noticed until today. On the platform sits a stool, a microphone, and an acoustic guitar: simple in appearance, but thanks to Sungie’s low whistle of appreciation he knew that guitar was likely something special. 

His cold hands tighten around the warm mug of fancy hot chocolate, trying to ground himself in the now. His newest piece of choreo hasn’t been coming together the way he wants, his concentration in his classes has been slipping, and his social battery has been so deeply low on charge that just letting Jisung into the apartment he shares with Chan that day had been a monumental effort. He’d been reading a book recently that preached the effects of being kind to yourself when you feel low, and he’s been feeling so awful that he decided to give the foreign concept a shot. Maybe treating himself to something decadent and allowing himself a break could help.

He’s staring vacantly at the stage when he feels warmth move into his space.

“We can head out if you aren’t feeling this. Jisungie will understand,” Channie says to him in a low voice. Minho looks around to see the Jisung in question making his way towards the register. He hadn’t even noticed him get to his feet. 

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Hyung,” he murmurs. “I’d like to see if this helps. I need to get out of my head.” He knows he doesn’t need to explain himself. Not to Channie.

He startles slightly when Chan’s fingers lightly circle his wrist, and then he relaxes into the touch as Chan pulls his hand away from the mug and entwines their fingers. Thumb rubbing reassuringly across the back of his hand, his best friend says, “I understand. But you’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

He gently pulls his hand away as he watches Jisung make his way back to the table, gigantic slice of cheesecake in hand, but still gives Channie a small smile. “Yes, Hyung.” Channie’s eyes shine with fondness, and something in his stomach loosens. It’s so much easier to let himself feel what he needs to feel when someone like Channie is in his corner. He knows if anyone else in their friend group had tried that, he would’ve shut it down in a heartbeat, never one to let someone fuss over him. But he’ll always be bare in front of his hyung.

Feeling like he’s on more solid ground, he’s able to join the conversation. He’s still not perfect, but he can laugh a little easier, and he loses track of time until suddenly Jisung perks up. 

“Guys! Guys, he’s here!” Minho looks in the direction Jisung nods his head and that solid ground disappears so suddenly that all of his breath just pushes out of his chest.

Up on the raised platform, Kim Seungmin is setting a bottle of water down next to the stool, and he approaches the mic. Minho registers that Seungmin must be saying something, but all he hears is a buzzing in his ears while he dazedly takes in the younger boy. He’s wearing this fuzzy, blue cropped sweater that swallows his arms, and shows off his broad shoulders and slender frame like nothing he’s seen him wear before. Under the sweater, a white shirt is tucked into snug denim jeans, and paired with his white platform Converses he looks tall . His hair is fluffed and parted in a way that only gives a glimpse at his forehead, and under the glare of the spotlight he sees that Seungmin is wearing some kind of shimmery makeup. He’s never seen him look so…delicate before. 

He shakes himself and finally inhales, feeling like he’s never felt oxygen in his lungs. He can’t tear his eyes away from Seungmin, who’s now sitting on the stool, checking that the guitar is in tune. He doesn’t catch the peculiar way that Jisung is staring at him when he turns his head just enough to be able to ask, “What is he doing up there?”

He’s so distracted he doesn’t even hear the snort from Chan right behind him. “He just said-” Jisung cuts himself off, shakes his head at the knowledge that Minho didn’t hear a thing Seungmin had said, and instead explains, “The vocal department has to sing a few songs for their showcase project. Seungminnie got the cafe manager to agree to let him perform here as practice. Said he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself at the showcase just because he’s never performed for a crowd before. We’re here for moral support.”

Minho gives a half nod, while his brain struggles to process. For this semester’s showcase, the dance team is collaborating. The older students, such as Minho, are required to choreograph a piece for the younger students, while the younger students are meant to pair up with a choreographer and one or two students from their own year to prove they can work together. Yongbokkie and Hyunjinnie had come to Minho to have him choreograph a duet for them, but they wanted something more intimate than he was used to, hence the struggle that helped lead to his current headspace. He finds Seungmin’s initiative to practice like this stunning in its boldness-dressed the part, in front of a real crowd where he can’t hide or deal with people who know him softening their criticism to spare his feelings. 

His spinning thoughts come to a sudden halt when Seungmin starts plucking out a melody on the guitar. Frozen, he watches as those elegant fingers move along the strings, manipulating them into bringing out a warm, gentle sound. He vaguely remembers their first meeting last year, and how he had thought his hands would suit an instrument well. On stage, Seungmin lifts his head up to the microphone, eyes closed, and starts to sing.

Minho’s head empties in a way it only ever has when faced with one of Seungmin’s biggest smiles. The stress and unhappiness he felt before this moment seem to melt away, and for the first time in a week his heart stops feeling tight. Seungmin’s voice is strong, confidence filling out his small frame, making him look completely at home. He looks utterly relaxed, notes slipping from between his lips with such care that it’s like each one is a star being hung in the sky. Minho is so ensnared that he doesn’t feel his mouth hanging open. He’s filled with a tenderness completely novel to him, and he understands in that moment that he will do literally anything to protect the boy on stage who sings his vulnerabilities like one might caress the face of a lover.

Seungmin’s next song is an acoustic arrangement of the very song that Minho is working to choreograph for his friends. He watches the crowd sway to the haunting way Seungmin interprets the song, and when the lyrics leave his lips Minho feels transported. In his mind’s eye, he sees the dance he had been working on in a new light. Moves slow, and lengthen. He imagines the bodies of his dancers extended and lower to the floor than he had originally planned, separate from each other in a way he didn't think about before. As Seungmin’s voice flips up into a beautiful falsetto, Minho imagines the dancers drawing up in their heights, drawing closer to each other, converging in just the right way to make the rest of his choreo finally make sense.

When the song ends, the room erupts in applause, but Minho isn't looking at the stage anymore. He turns to his friends and tells them wildly, “I was never here. Don’t tell him I was here. I-I gotta go.”

Jisung looks at him like he’s lost his marbles, but Chan seems to recognize the look in Minho’s eyes. “Breakthrough?”

Nodding emphatically, he stands and pulls on his jacket. “I don’t have time to explain, I can’t lose this right now, I have to go, Channie hyung, ple-”

“I’ve got it, Min, go. I’ll come check on you later.” Minho nods and rushes through the crowd, missing the bewildered look Jisung gives Chan. All he cares about is getting to the studio, and not examining the way his entire worldview just shifted around one Kim Seungmin.

___

Seungmin:

 “Looking at you makes me forget how to breathe, and I just didn't want to fuck this up but I guess I already did and- Why are you laughing?”

He genuinely cannot help it, as ill timed as the laughter is. He’s never seen his hyung so wild-eyed and red and adorable before. Do I owe Innie an apology? He covers his mouth-a habit he still hasn’t broken since he had his braces removed-while he tries to get his laughter under control. He’d spent all night thinking he had been ruining things, while Minho had been thinking he was ruining things, and both of them were idiots. What a pair .

“Kim. Seung. Min. Why are you laughing? ” Poor Minho. His whole face, his ears, his neck, even his chest is scarlet, where it's visible under the V of his unbuttoned collar. Seungmin lets out a small hiccup as he wipes away the fresh tears in his eyes and finally gets enough breath in his lungs to speak somewhat clearly.

“I’m sorry Hyung, but you have to admit this is kinda funny. How are we both so stupid? Actually-don't answer that, I don't need you to tell me that I’m the only stupid one.”

There’s a moment where he can tell Minho is deeply struggling to pull in his irritation at being laughed at before his lips pull into a sheepish smile, precious bunny teeth once again on display. “No, I’ll admit, I was kinda stupid. I was just scared to change what we already have. I was scared you wouldn’t want it.”

Laughing more gently this time, he replies, “Really, Hyung, if I didn’t want to change our relationship don’t you think the best way to do that would be to not ask you on a date? I-I’ve liked you for a long time, and I needed to know if this could go anywhere. If it didn't work, I would get over it. I just didn't expect to feel so upset by the idea that it didn’t work because of something I did. I’m sorry.”

Minho is looking at him in a way that makes him want to squirm in his seat. He looks…soft. Like he’s looking at something precious. He’s so unused to the feeling of being seen this way by Minho that suddenly he feels intensely guilty for laughing at him. Of course he wanted to keep his distance. This has never been who we are. He probably feels as uncomfortable showing me this side of him as I am seeing it.  

“Seungminnie, if only-” Minho cuts himself off to look as if he’s swallowing a particularly slimy toad, and picks up his drink to gulp down what's left. “If only you knew how nervous I’ve been this week. I…I’ve wanted to try this with you for so long, but I had no idea if this was the same for you as it is for me. Part of me…thought this was some dare between you and Innie, or that Jisungie put you up to this just to mess with me. Chan hyung must have wanted to knock me out so many times just to stop me from pacing around the apartment. I’m sorry that my own insecurities hurt you. In trying to do this right, I did everything as wrong as possible.”

He was stunned, honestly. This was so much more than he had ever hoped to expect, and he’s reminded yet again of how little of himself Minho allows him to see. He tries to drag them back to more solid footing for a moment.

“Ignoring that you thought I was a big enough jerk to ask you out as a prank,” Minho’s eyes widen a fraction before they take in the humor in Seungmin’s own eyes, and he visibly relaxes. “You said that you’ve wanted to try this for a long time. How long?”

Minho’s face flushes again, and Seungmin idly thinks that they’ll be lucky if Minho’s ears don’t just melt off his head before the night is over. He watches over the table as his hyung tries yet again to pull some semblance of composure together, and finds himself struck with how hard the older of the two is trying. 

“I’ve…always been attracted to you. Since we first met. But the first time I really wanted to do something about it? It was the first time you performed in that cafe, prepping for your showcase.”

The absolute shock he feels has to be flashing in neon on his face right now. All these years their friends have been saying they're so similar, and even in this, it holds true. Because not even a week after that very showcase was when Seungmin first realized he wanted to act on it, too.

///

For the first time in weeks, Seungmin feels like he can breathe. Showcase week is officially done for the semester, and now, finally, he can just relax and spend time with his friends. He’d finally convinced Innie that he got the grade he deserved because he hit it out of the park in his acapella performance, Minho’s piece for Hyunjin and Felix got a standing ovation, and while he still wasn't even sure what Chan, Changbin, and Han had done for their showcase, they had been satisfied with their results, too. His own showcase went even better than he’d thought: it was obvious to him that those performances in the cafe really had prepared him for the nerves of performing for a bigger audience than he was used to this time.

“Seungminnie!”

He’s brought out of his thoughts at the discordant sound of Felix’s deep voice brightly calling his name from outside of the cafe. Drowning in a sweater he probably stole from Changbin, Felix is holding out an iced americano with that sunshine smile that makes Seungmin feel wrapped in his favorite comforter. 

“If you were just going to order for me, why did I walk all the way out here? Studio’s closer to my building anyway,” he says with a smile around his straw. Just because Lix is sunshine incarnate doesn’t mean he has to let him know he thinks it.

“Yeah, but now we can walk together!” Cheerful as ever, Lix throws his arm around Seungmin’s shoulders and squeezes into his side as they walk back in the direction Seungmin came from. Seungmin just rolls his eyes fondly and lets him snuggle. As if he’d deny him anything.

“Why are we going to the studio on a weekend, anyway? The showcase wrapped last week, aren’t you supposed to get a break?”

“Oh, we are getting a break!” Mischief creeps into Felix’s tone. “I never said we were going there so I could dance.”

“Don’t smirk at me like that, I’m not dancing either!”

“Seungmin, if I thought I could get you to agree to dance with me, I would’ve tried it well before now. Just let me surprise you.”

“You know I don't like surprises.”

Lix lets out an adorable little growl that sounds more like a disgruntled kitten than anything else. “We’re gonna sit in on a workshop. That’s all you're getting.”

Seungmin thinks about pulling out his puppy eyes, but they’re almost to the studio at this point, and by the time he gets Lix to fold, he’ll probably have seen the surprise anyway. So he lets it drop. This time.

He follows Felix into the building and up the stairs to the bigger studios, trying to figure out why he would be surprised by a workshop. He likes watching dance, sure, but mostly because it's his friend’s passions. Taking time to sit in on a workshop isn’t really his cup of tea.

The first surprise is how crowded this studio is. Dancers are crowded into the corners of the room, along the edges-anywhere they can get a seat. There’s even people outside of the room peeking in from the windows, but he recognizes most of those faces from different departments, so they must just be here to watch. The only places that there aren’t people are the middle of the room, and along the center stretch of the mirrored wall. Lix grabs his arm and gently pulls him into a corner that not only is somehow a little less crowded, but also has a couple of stools set up so that they can sit and not have their view blocked by the dancers crowded around. 

Without even having to ask and with a smirk in full force, Felix explains, “Perks of knowing the teacher.” Seungmin just sips his coffee and gets comfortable.

The crowd gets noticeably quieter once the doors to the studio slam shut. Seungmin looks around and finds that Minho has just entered the room. In his ear, Felix whispers, “Surprise!”

“I would hardly be surprised that Minho hyung is taking a dance class. He is, in fact, a dancer. How could I forget?” And he couldn’t, really. He’d been thinking all week about the dance department showcase. He’d sat in the crowd, in pure awe, as he watched Hyunjin and Felix dance this beautiful, aching dance to the same song Seungmin had prepared for his own showcase and could only think “ Minho did this?” He hadn’t known his hyung was capable of such aching vulnerability. And when the room stood to applaud, Felix had dragged their choreographer onto the stage to make him take his due, ears flaming red and eyes unable to look up. Yeah, Seungmin had been replaying that moment in his head far more often than he would even admit to himself.

“No, Seungminnie,” Felix almost sings, bringing Seungmin’s thoughts back to the studio. “He’s not taking the class. He’s teaching the class.”

Oh. Oh . While he’d been lost in thought, someone had dimmed the lights so that the edges of the studio were cast in shadow, and only the center was on full display. “So he knows we’re here?” he asks, remembering what Lix had said about knowing the teacher.

“He knows I’m here. I didn't tell him who I was bringing. Figured I’d let you handle that.” Seungmin ignores the implication in that last sentence as Minho walks into that center light and addresses the room.

“Hey, everyone! I’m Lee Minho, and I’ll be your instructor for today’s workshop.” He dips into a bow, but when someone laughs out a “We know who you are”, he silences them with a steely glance and a raised eyebrow. “Obviously you guys know me, but we seem to be joined by an audience today.” He pointedly looks toward the windows where the students from other departments are pressed against the glass then continues, “So, we’re gonna start with showing off the choreo for today, and then I’ll break it down farther, then we’ll move into the class portion. Sound good?”

Seungmin watches as the whole room is fully locked onto every word that comes out of Minho’s mouth-every slight muscle twitch of his body. In the center of the room, Minho dips down into a quick stretch, extending his legs one at a time, and then unfolds upward, twisting his neck to rid it of kinks. He faces the mirror and catches the eye of someone in the reflection enough to nod, and with it, music fills the air: a bassy, hip hop style song that’s closer to what Seungmin had thought of Minho’s style before the showcase. 

Minho shifts his weight on the balls of his feet in a little bouncy motion, swinging his arms to loosen them, and then all at once he falls still, like someone cut the strings keeping him in motion. His head is cast down, eyes closed, arms loosely hanging at his sides, weight shifted back on to his right foot. The music climbs in intensity, and the moment the first note of the pre-chorus hits, Minho comes alive.

His dance is fast, powerful, full of intention. Seungmin doesn't even notice the way he holds his own breath while he watches the strength in which Minho controls his movements; an arm extends and pushes the air, which propels his body away from the movement and into a complicated little twist that he follows through by falling into a crouch, riding the beat before letting the next pounding bass note rocket him to his feet. When the song shifts into the post chorus, the choreo shifts as well-no longer following the instrumental, the moves now slide with the lilting topline melody. Here, Minho shifts easily into lithe body rolls, and footwork that feels even more complicated, even with the decrease in intensity.

The song finally fades out, and Minho does a bouncy little set of moves that seem to pull him out of the choreo, but obviously isn't part of what he’s meant to teach. All at once Seungmin is aware of how LOUD the studio is-dancers all over are screaming and whooping, slamming their hands on the floor in praise, and, weirdly, a few shoes go flying into the center. It’s overwhelming, but Minho barely seems to notice, just sipping water someone hands him while he catches his breath and swipes at the sweat on his forehead. 

Finally, the room quiets down, the shoes are collected, and Minho explains that he’s going to do it again at half speed, before he starts teaching the group as a whole. The music starts up again, slower, and this time when Minho starts moving, the intensity on his face from before exudes an almost spiritual peace. Seungmin realizes all over again that he’s seeing a part of his hyung that he didn't think existed. Before, it was a performance; it was showing what energy was expected of the piece being taught. But now…now it was obvious Minho was just living in which move connects next, the in and out of his breathing, and he looked so at home in his skin that watching it made Seungmin want to cry. Before now, he had never understood just how much dancing meant to Minho. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

He almost forgets that Felix is even sitting next to him, as the class continues. No one bothers to look in their direction or speak to them, and he’s allowed to just watch and absorb, his coffee cup forgotten on the floor at his feet. The class moves to find space in the room to follow Minho's step by step instructions, while those who have to wait their turn follow along in smaller ways along the edges of the floor. A different intensity is back in his eyes, as he watches the mirror to see how the class fares. When he finishes a section he gently corrects and explains it even more carefully, and he does so in a way that never calls out the person he caught struggling. And here, another version of Minho unfolds: patient, kind, tactful in ways that the playfully sarcastic hyung he’s used to seeing never quite is. 

He feels unmoored as the day continues and he witnesses all these little nuances to the man he’d been friends with for the past year or so and still didn't really know. How could he have gotten this far and not known these softer sides to him? He had thought he’d seen them in unguarded moments when Minho likely didn't realize he was being watched, but in most cases with Chan present, Minho didn't need to be a hyung to them in the same way Chan unquestionably was. Here in this space, though, it was so obvious that Minho was respected and trusted to lead; as often as dancers fearlessly joked and teased him, they also unerringly sought him out for guidance and correction, and at no point did he ever look impatient or irritated.

He had thought he had been satisfied with the state of their friendship, but over the course of this class, he realizes that he wants more . He wants that softness in Minho’s eyes to stay when their gazes meet, instead of being wiped clean the moment the older of the two realizes he’s being watched. He wants to ask his hyung for guidance in…in well, anything , and not be pawned off onto Chan, or met with careful sarcasm. He wants to touch him and-

“I have to go,” he barely gets out in Felix’s direction before he’s weaving through the dancers, hoping Minho’s attention keeps him on the other side of the room just long enough to make it out unnoticed. He doesn't know what brought that thought on, but it’s not one he’s had about someone else before and it terrifies him, and thrills him, and he can't, he can't, he can't, and so instead he runs away.