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There are streaks of sweat drying on the dark hardwood floors, and Oh Sehun can feel his legs about to give out. He’s been practicing for the past five hours, and he’s gone through half a dozen bottles of water. His shirt, thoroughly soaked through, lies discarded on the floor.
Zhang Yixing, his senior, had managed to convince Sehun to be part of his graduation showcase. Along with two other dancers, they’ve been working their asses off over the past couple of months. Seniors don’t usually ask freshmen or sophomores – Sehun is a sophomore – to be part of their showcase performances due to lack of experience and skill, but since they’d met two years ago, Sehun’s vastly improved in both aspects thanks to Yixing’s coaching.
They’re both enrolled in the hip-hop dance major, one of the university’s most competitive dance genres to get into due to high demand and high skill requirements. As a result, the freshmen through to the juniors have regular meetings with the dance department heads, consisting of a 45 second dance piece every three months to make sure that they’re keeping up with the department’s demands. At least Sehun is allowed to perform Yixing’s choreography for his upcoming meeting; that’s one less thing to worry about.
“Yixing,” Sehun pants, hunched over his knees. “I’m dying here.”
“Just one more run through,” Yixing says. “I promise.”
A minute and a half later, Sehun finds himself lying spread-eagled on the floor, hair sticking to his face and neck as he tries to catch his breath. He needs a haircut ASAP. When his stomach lets out a loud growl, Seulgi huffs out a laugh a few feet away and tosses him an energy bar.
“Eat that,” she says. “It’ll tide you over until you get some actual food.”
“Bless you,” Sehun mumbles, hand fumbling around until his fingers brush against the energy bar.
“We’re out,” Seulgi announces. “See you guys next week.”
Sehun bids Seulgi and Johnny goodbye with a weak wave.
When his stomach is thinly lined with the energy bar, Sehun lets Yixing pull him to his feet. The floor looks absolutely disgusting; Sehun thinks he should get everyone in the dance department to buy the janitors a great big present at the end of the year for having to deal with all of their sweat.
Pulling on a fresh shirt, he balls up his soiled one and stuffs it into his sports bag. He walks with Yixing until the end of the hallway before they part ways, Yixing heading off to find his supervising instructor and Sehun towards his locker.
The lockers are all located on the first floor, and their dance studios are on the third. For some weird reason, the stairs connecting the floors are never found in the same location on each floor, so Sehun has to literally walk past all the studios on the second floor before he can get to his locker. It’s a hassle, but in all honestly, Sehun doesn’t really mind.
He doesn’t mind because the second floor belongs to the contemporary dance majors, and Kim Jongin is a contemporary dance major. He doesn’t mind because Kim Jongin is possibly one of the best dancers he’s ever laid eyes on. And it helps that Kim Jongin is insanely attractive.
Jongin is a junior, and is one of the few dancers enrolled that have been given the opportunity to major in two genres – contemporary and jazz. Yeah, he’s just that good. It’s common to see a small crowd huddled by the door to whatever studio Jongin’s in, students straining to see him dance through the narrow glass pane on the door.
Today, Sehun’s lucky. There aren’t any students outside Jongin’s studio – well, it’s 7pm on a Saturday night. That’s probably why. But Jongin’s here, and Sehun can hear music trailing out from the gap underneath the door. He pauses by the door and peers inside. Jongin’s there, dancing by himself, shirtless and barefoot. His choreography is always intricate, always soaked with meaning and emotion, and it takes Sehun’s breath away.
He doesn’t linger for long, not wanting to creep Jongin out.
At his locker, Sehun drops off his dance shoes and changes into his street ones. He grabs his wallet and headphones and a single stalk of rose. After a quick look around to make sure no one else is around, he walks down the line of lockers before stopping at a corner locker. With a piece of tape, he tapes the rose securely onto the locker door.
It’s almost 9pm when Jongin decides to stop practicing for the day. He’s sweating buckets, even with the AC cranked as high as it’ll go. Grabbing his trusty towel, he wipes off as much sweat possible before pulling a tank top over his head. He shuts off the sound system, the AC, and the lights before leaving.
When he rounds the corner where all the lockers are located, he notices something on the door of his own – a rose. Like clockwork, Jongin receives a rose every day of the week, except on Sundays (the campus is closed on Sundays!).
He’s curious, of course, as to who the person behind the rose is. But he doesn’t ask around, because if his admirer isn’t ready to tell him, then he shouldn’t push. It is, however, a miracle that he hasn’t run into his admirer yet – the school isn’t big, but somehow, his admirer’s always managed to avoid getting caught. It’s nice though, to have someone think that way about him. The roses have a place on his desk in his dorm room, and the vase never runs out of fresh ones.
With a hum, he peels the tape off the rose and leaves for home, fingers circled tightly around the thornless stem.
It’s time for their quarterly assessment. They’re usually conducted according to dance styles, and today, the hip-hop dancers are grouped with the jazz dancers. This little fact sends Sehun into a bit of a tizzy.
“Nervous?” Johnny teases, laughing when Sehun frowns at him. It’s only Johnny’s third assessment since starting at the university this year, but it seems as though Sehun’s much more worried about his performance than he is. But Johnny knows why.
“I can distract Jongin for you while you’re performing, if you want,” the freshman whispers. Sehun, blushing, smacks his friend on the arm.
There are 120 students in the auditorium. Students go up in groups of 10, sorted by alphabetical order (of their last names), and are allowed to leave once they’ve finished performing. But although Jongin’s done way before Sehun’s due up on stage, he always seems to stay back and watch the performances of his fellow dancers. For Sehun, it’s more nerve wracking knowing that Jongin’s watching compared to the department heads.
The first 30 or so minutes fly by in a heartbeat. Before long, Jongin’s standing up on the stage, looking like he was born to create and perform art. He’s clad in a simple dress shirt and dance leggings – Sehun almost drools over how good the leggings look on those long, muscled legs. Next to him, Johnny snorts at how enamoured his friend is. Johnny is the only one in the school who knows that it’s Sehun who leaves those roses on Jongin’s locker, and he’s the only one Sehun trusts to know that information.
The auditorium is still full of students at this point – Jongin hasn’t performed yet, you see. Lights dim slightly, and the music starts with a heavy bass. Jongin’s moves are explosive yet contained, expressive yet vague, sensual yet passionless. 45 seconds pass by too quickly for Sehun’s taste, and he slumps sadly in his seat when Jongin takes a bow and heads off stage. The crowd applauds, reverent as always.
Sehun and Johnny are in the same group. At this point, over half the students have left the auditorium, having finished with their assessments. As they head up to the stage, Sehun passes Jongin, who’s seated by himself by the aisle. Jongin looks up at him as he walks by and gives him a polite, encouraging smile. Sehun blushes so hard that he’s thankful for the lack of lights in the room.
Sehun’s up first. He’s tweaked Yixing’s choreography so that his own style will shine through, and he’s practiced it so much over the last couple of weeks that he can practically dance it over and over again while he’s asleep. The nervousness he feels right now is 100% attributable to Jongin’s presence in the audience.
So it’s definitely a good thing that he’s performed a fair number of times in front of large audiences. On stage, he’s learned how to focus on just his body and the music. When the music starts, Sehun connects his mind to the thrum of the beat and begins to move.
Jongin watches with rapt attention as the tall, raven haired boy on stage dances. He moves with such sharp precision, such strong isolations, such fast footwork. Jongin prefers the gracefulness of contemporary and jazz to the hard-hitting style of hip-hop, but he honestly wouldn’t mind watching Oh Sehun dance every single day. Ah, and the way those sweatpants hang low on those hips…
When Jongin stops by his locker to pick up his bag at the end of the day, he finds another rose.
Yixing’s pushing them to their limits again, but the other dancers refrain from complaining. They only have less than three months to go before the senior showcase, so they’re willing to work hard for their friend’s sake.
During a water break, Johnny nudges Sehun in his side.
“Wanna do the talent show this year?”
“I don’t think we’ll even have time to come up with choreo for it,” Sehun replies, gulping down half a bottle of water in one go. “We’ll be busy with Yixing’s showcase until the last day.”
“Entries only have to be a minute long,” Johnny says. “And you still remember that dance piece you were working on earlier this school year, yeah? We can just flesh that out.”
“We can give it a shot, I guess. Don’t sign up until the very last minute though. I don’t want to have to pull out of the show just because we find out that we can’t manage.”
Johnny agrees.
Somehow, they manage to find the time to choreograph and practice a short piece for the upcoming talent show. It’s not Sehun’s best work by any means, but it’s definitely good enough. It helps that Johnny’s an easy-going friend and a hard worker.
The talent show will be held a week before the senior showcase, and students from various departments are staying later and later each day. All the dance studios are always booked, and the same goes for music rooms, art studios, and photography darkrooms.
One day, just a couple of weeks before the talent show, Sehun’s in the dance department’s office, staring at the computer screen. He’s staring at the schedule for the dance rooms, and there are none available for the whole week. Zero, nada, zilch.
“Well, fuck.”
“Something wrong?”
Sehun jumps at the voice. Spinning around, he catches sight of Jongin leaning by the doorframe, a small smile on the boy’s face.
“Oh uhm, yeah – the studios are all booked for the whole week. I guess it’s my fault, really. I was supposed to come yesterday, but I had too many things to do and it slipped my mind.”
“When do you need to use a studio?”
“Friday, after school. Well, that was the plan, anyway.”
He turns to frown at the computer screen.
“You can share my studio,” Jongin offers. “I have one reserved for that time slot. All the way to 9 at night.”
Sehun’s eyes widen. “That’s really nice of you, but you don’t have to. Don’t you need the space? Not to mention the sound system and all.”
“Nah, I just need to run through the dance; I can do that without music. Please, feel free to share the room.”
Sehun can feel his cheeks start to pink – he needs to get out of here before the full blush creeps in and gives him away.
“Okay, I will. Thanks so much.”
He bows a little as he shuffles out of the office; Jongin watches him go, smile growing just a little bit wider.
By the time Sehun arrives at the studio, Johnny in tow, Jongin’s already inside, marking out the steps to a dance piece with earphones tucked snugly in his ears. He knocks a couple of times, loudly, and Jongin pauses mid pirouette. He beckons for them to enter, pulling an earbud out of his ear.
“Hey, feel free to use that side of the studio. I don’t need too much space, so don’t worry about me.”
The hip-hop dancers express their thanks, and the three dancers get to practicing. Sehun and Johnny use the sound system, but they turn it down low so as not to distract Jongin.
A couple of hours pass by this way, shoes squeaking against the floor and sweat running down backs. Jongin takes a break before the other two, sitting down by his bag, water bottle in his hand. He watches the pair dance, watches as Sehun helps Johnny fix some moves and as they watch recordings of themselves to try and spot any mistakes.
“I think this is good,” Sehun says, breathing heavily. “Are you happy with this being the final choreography?”
“Yeah,” Johnny replies, wiping the sweat off his brow. “I like it.”
Nodding, Sehun sets his phone down and pulls the hem of his muscle tank up. Jongin’s lips part slightly as inch after inch of a toned torso is revealed. Sehun, oblivious, dabs at his forehead and neck with the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall back down.
“Hey, I have to leave a little early. Mum wants me home, something about visitors?”
“Oh,” Sehun utters. “Yeah, okay. I’ll send you the video? I’ll let you know when our next practice session is. Don’t forget we have Yixing’s practice Monday.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He bids both Sehun and Jongin goodbye with a wave.
Sehun, still a little caught up in running the choreo over and over in his head, doesn’t notice when Jongin walks up to him.
“Can I see?”
Sehun jumps a foot into the air.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s alright,” Sehun replies, a hand over his chest. “Um, what did you want to see?”
“The video. If it’s okay with you?”
Sehun hands his phone over to Jongin silently. He waits nervously for a little over a minute. Then:
“This is really good. How long have you been dancing?”
“Oh, uh, since I was 9.”
Jongin gives him a gentle smile. “I see why so many students say you’re good. You know, every time we have assessments to do, I stay to watch you dance.”
Sehun blinks.
“What? People say I’m good? You stay to watch me?”
“You didn’t know? Yeah, you and Yixing – if anyone brings up hip-hop, your names usually come up too. And as for me, well, I appreciate good dancers.”
This time, Sehun’s unable to hold back his blush.
Sehun’s so flustered that he doesn’t do a thorough check of his surroundings when he goes to tape the rose to Jongin’s locker door. As a result, he doesn’t notice Jongin himself rounding the corner behind him, and he doesn’t notice the surprised expression on Jongin’s face turn into one of thinly veiled affection.
Backstage is brimming with people; it’s ridiculously hard to move around the limited space. There are racks of costumes (for both drama and dance performers), rows and rows of instruments and music stands, and a vast array of props. The hallways of the building are adorned with photographs and visual art pieces.
Sehun, searching for the dressing rooms, runs right into someone’s back.
“I’m so sorry, I –”
“Hey,” Jongin says, turning around. “Looking for the dancers’ dressing rooms?”
“Jongin? I didn’t know you’re performing. And yeah, I am.”
“I don’t usually participate in talent shows,” Jongin admits, “but I thought I’d give it a go this year. And come on, follow me. I’m headed that way anyways.”
They squeeze their way between throngs of people, managing to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a tuba, but also managing to trip over a guitar case tossed carelessly on the ground in a narrow hallway.
“Here we are,” Jongin wheezes, pushing a door open and shuffling in.
There are a bunch of dancers already inside, some of them half-naked as they pull their stage outfits on, and some busy applying enough makeup for it to be seen from the stage.
Sehun spots Johnny in a corner, and the two of them make their way over to the freshman.
“You got here early,” Sehun quips, dropping his bag onto the counter.
“I thought the show started at 8, not 8:30,” Johnny says, laughing. “But at least I don’t have to rush now. You might have to, though. The dance segment’s going first. You have about 20 minutes, I’m guessing.”
Sehun changes in record speed. A few feet away, Jongin lets his gaze wander over the sinews in Sehun’s back and the way his abs tense when he yanks his shirt off. Sehun doesn’t notice, but Johnny does.
He catches Jongin’s eye – at the embarrassed look that crosses Jongin’s face, he winks.
Their performance goes swimmingly well. They receive a standing ovation, and Sehun even gets a pat on the back from Jongin – who’s up next – when they head backstage after their bows. Of course, Sehun hangs around the side of the stage to watch Jongin’s performance. Jongin, as per usual, is flawless on stage.
Yixing wants to squeeze in a few more practices before the showcase, so Sehun and Johnny have to leave the talent show right after the dance segment ends. They run into Jongin on the way out of the dressing room; Jongin stops Sehun with a hand on his shoulder. Johnny keeps walking, shouting to Sehun that he’ll be in the studio.
“You did great,” Jongin says. “Your senior showcase would be pretty amazing, I would imagine.”
Sehun laughs weakly. “Thanks, but I’m nothing compared to you.”
At that, Jongin simply gives Sehun a small smile.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sehun nods.
“Will you meet me in the studio after the senior showcase is over? The one we shared.”
“Sure, but why?”
“I guess you’ll find out on Saturday,” Jongin says, shrugging playfully. “I’ll be waiting.”
Being a part of the senior showcase is terrifying. There are scouts for all the art forms present in the audience, and Sehun’s never seen the auditorium this packed. Everyone’s dressed formally, and there are waiters bringing around plates of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne outside in the foyer.
Yixing’s making them dance in suits, and Seulgi gets stuck helping the boys fix their hair.
“We’ll do well,” she says, running a wax-covered hand through Johnny’s hair. “We have to, for Yixing’s sake.”
Sehun fixes his tie and exhales. “Yeah, we do.”
As applause thunders on around them, Yixing pulls the other three into a tight embrace.
“Thank you guys for putting so much effort into this for me,” he says, raising his voice a little to be heard. “I appreciate every single hour you’ve spent practicing with me. Thank you all so much.”
Seulgi’s eyes are glistening, but she manages to give Yixing a nice, big grin and a hug to match. Sehun and Johnny tell Yixing that it’s their pleasure to be given the opportunity to help, and that the performances has been one of their best and most memorable.
“Don’t forget us when you become a famous dancer,” Sehun says, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. Yixing laughs and grabs onto Sehun’s hand for their closing bow.
“Don’t forget to come to my graduation ceremony!” Yixing hollers, straining against his mother’s grip to wave manically at Sehun.
“I’ll be there!” Sehun promises. Yixing gives him a thumbs up and lets his mother whisk him away. When Yixing disappears from view, Sehun turns and walks towards the stairs. There are still people milling about the auditorium, but the crowd’s starting to thin. He slinks past a few huddled groups and starts up the steps.
Jongin’s already inside the studio, lazily dancing to a slow R&B song that’s playing softly through the sound system. The door’s ajar, so Sehun steps in, knocking once just to alert Jongin of his presence.
“Hey, what was it that you –”
He freezes, gaze landing on the far corner of the room. Jongin chuckles.
“The florist only had a hundred stalks; you’ve definitely left me way more than that, but a hundred is all I can get until they restock. I have a ways to go until I can return the favour, but I think this is a good start, no?”
Sehun can feel heat flooding into his cheeks, ears, and the back of his neck.
“You know?”
“That it was you who’s been leaving me the roses? Yeah. I found out not long ago, though. It was the day we shared this room.”
By this point, Sehun’s got his burning face buried in his hands.
“Your commitment… it’s very impressive,” Jongin continues, eyes sparkling as he watches Sehun drown in embarrassment.
“I…”
“It’s really cute. Thank you for the roses. I keep them all, you know, in a vase on my desk. Well, until they inevitably wilt. But there’s always a fresh one to replace a dying one. It’s nice.”
“It was a way of letting me express my feelings without actually needing to do so,” Sehun mumbles into his palms.
“What feelings?”
“I think you’re an amazing dancer,” Sehun continues, the tips of his ears blazing. “Your body moves so well and you’re able to ignite so many emotions in your audience. I fell in love with your dancing first, and then, unavoidably, you. You’re friendly to everyone, you help out those who are less experienced than you are, and you aren’t afraid to ask for help from your seniors. And you have a really nice smile. Like, really nice.”
Those last few words are said so quietly that Jongin has to take a few steps forward just to be able to catch them.
“You think so?”
Sehun peers through his fingers and nearly yelps in surprise. Jongin’s so close to him, and he’s got that really nice smile on his face again.
When Jongin reaches out and tugs on Sehun’s tie, Sehun thinks his knees might give out.
“Do you remember your first ever assessment? You tripped over a wire on stage but managed to cover up the fall with a freeze? I saw that. I admired your quick thinking and your composure. And that little smile you gave when you finished your piece? I think you have a nicer smile than I do, honestly.
I know we don’t know each other too well; we don’t have shared classes and our friend circles barely overlap, but I want to get to know you.”
With great conviction, Sehun composes himself and lowers his hands. Jongin’s grip on his tie doesn’t falter.
“Okay,” Sehun replies. “I’d like that.”
Jongin beams, sending Sehun’s heart into a titter.
“This suit looks amazing on you.”
Sehun tries not to blush again.
“I don’t usually do this,” Jongin goes on, “but I really want to.”
Before Sehun can open his mouth to ask what exactly it is that Jongin wants to do, he’s pulled forward by his tie, and his lips land solidly on Jongin’s.
Jongin skips past the shy pecks, going straight to coaxing Sehun’s lips apart and gently licking into his mouth. A hand comes up to fist in Sehun’s collar, and Sehun has to cradle Jongin’s head with both hands in an attempt to ground himself.
When they part, Jongin’s got his eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his face.
“I’d like to do more,” Jongin says, “a lot more, but I’m afraid I have somewhere to be. Can we meet tomorrow?”
Sehun can only nod dumbly.
“Great. My number’s tucked somewhere amongst all those roses.” Jongin gestures to the huge bouquet. “Text me, yeah?”
Sehun nods again.
With a quick kiss to the corner of Sehun’s mouth, Jongin’s out the door.
It takes a lot longer to walk home with a bouquet that covers 90% of his field of vision, but Sehun doesn’t mind a single bit.