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Seokmin rested his chin on his palm, letting out a heavy breath, exasperated. The night was already halfway over and no one had once asked him to dance. The middle school dance was the single most important moment in a fourteen-year-old’s life, puberty be damned. Everyone had been excited all week for which of their friend’s houses they were going to get ready at and who they were going to dance with. Seokmin had been so excited he was rendered completely useless in all of his classes. Yet, here he sat, watching others dance together on the crowded gymnasium floor.
Why hadn’t anyone asked him to dance yet? He would dance with anyone if they asked. Even his best friend Soonyoung had been asked to dance, leaving Seokmin alone at the table. Tears began to form in Seokmin’s eyes. Was there something wrong with him? Did people think he was weird? Just as he was about to make a quick escape to the bathroom, a short boy walked up to him.
“Why are you sitting all alone?” The boy asked, his voice high pitched. His hair was gelled back out of his face and he wore an oversized graphic t-shirt. He had to be younger than Seokmin, but he exuded an aura of confidence. Seokmin played with the paper napkin in front of him.
“My friend got asked to dance, but no one asked me.” He tried his best to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but it seemed he didn’t do too great of a job at it. The boy in front of him looked at the dance floor and then back to Seokmin.
“We can dance.” Seokmin whipped his head up to look at the other boy. “I didn’t come with anyone, so I think it’ll be fun.” The smaller boy gave him a big smile, teeth crooked.
Seokmin blinked one, two times. “Really?” He had never even seen this boy before, and yet here he was offering to dance with him. Maybe it was just because he pitied Seokmin, but the nod the smaller boy gave him eased any worries Seokmin had. He quickly got up from the table and followed the boy to the outskirts of the group of people dancing.
“I’m Chan.” The smaller boy said as his hands came to rest shyly on Seokmin’s sides.
“I’m Seokmin!” Seokmin flashed Chan a large smile. His arms moved to wrap around Chan’s neck loosely. He had seen couples on TV dance like this all the time. He was too happy to notice the strange looks the people around them gave. Finally, he had someone to dance with.
“Seokmin, Chan is here!” Seokmin’s mom shouted from down the stairs. Seokmin stared at himself in the mirror. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He had pat down any wrinkles in his suit at least five times. His lint roller sat empty on his bed, the rolls of sticky paper scattered across his mattress. He even doubled checked that his socks matched his shoes and pants.
“I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes!” Seokmin yelled back, trying to stick the stray hairs on his forehead back with the others. They stayed put for all of thirty seconds before they stubbornly fell back into his face. At seventeen years old, prom was the top priority to Seokmin. He had been looking forward to his last high school dance since he entered high school.
Chan and Seokmin were practically inseparable after that middle school dance. They spent all their afternoons either hanging out around the school or at each other’s houses. When Seokmin moved up to high school, Chan had cried, worried that he would forget about him. Maybe that was when Seokmin realized he liked Chan, but the feelings didn’t properly register at the time. All he could do was reassure Chan that they would still hang out.
It wasn’t until Chan was a sophomore and Seokmin was a senior that they came to terms with their romantic feelings for one another. For once, Seokmin made the first move. They were out eating ice cream when he suddenly gushed about the fact he was basically in love with Chan. Chan, face sticky with ice cream, gave Seokmin the sweetest kiss in front of everyone at the ice cream parlor. Since then, they had been a couple.
Prom marked their six month anniversary, and Seokmin wanted it to be as romantic and perfect as possible. The stray hairs around his forehead and something wrong with his suit was making Seokmin more nervous than he already was. Deciding there was only so much he could do at this point, Seokmin inhaled deeply and made his way downstairs.
One would think that after seeing Chan almost every day since eighth-grade Seokmin would be used to how handsome he was. Yet, as Seokmin reached the landing of his stairs and he met Chan’s gaze, he felt his breath hitch in his throat. Chan’s bangs were styled neatly against his forehead and his suit fit him well. Seokmin’s cheeks burned bright red at the smile Chan gave him.
“You look so handsome.” Seokmin said once he stepped up to Chan.
“You have to be talking about yourself.” Chan’s hands moved to adjust Seokmin’s bowtie. “Is this a clip on?” Laughter laced Chan’s words, but Seokmin still felt somewhat embarrassed. His mother took an abundance of pictures, and soon the two of them were off to the dance venue.
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“They’ve played like, nothing but slow songs.” Soonyoung complained, stabbing at his cheesecake slice bitterly. Seokmin could have laughed at how things have changed. Years ago, it was Soonyoung out dancing and leaving Seokmin by himself. Now, Chan was tugging Seokmin on the dance floor as Soonyoung steeped in his single bitterness.
Chan’s hands settled comfortably on Seokmin’s hips, tugging him closer and wiggling his eyebrows. Seokmin laughed loudly, the noise muffled under the loud music. He threw his arms around Chan’s neck, hugging him close.
“You’re so handsome.” Seokmin admired the sharp curve of Chan’s eyes.
“You already said that tonight.” Chan grinned back at him. Seokmin buried his face in Chan’s shoulder, despite the fact he was the taller of the two. Over the past few months the two of them had gotten plenty of weird looks, but now more than ever those looks didn’t matter. It was only Chan and Seokmin, Seokmin and Chan, just like it always was meant to be.
“Thanks for dancing with me.” Seokmin wasn’t sure if he was talking to the current Chan or the child version of Chan he had met so long ago. The sentiment meant the same nonetheless.
“My pleasure.” Chan kissed the side of Seokmin’s head gently. Seokmin kept his face buried in Chan’s vest, comforted by the smell of his familiar cologne. The two of them continued to slow dance even once the song changed and the lights turned back on. Seokmin never wanted to be anywhere else than slow dancing in Chan’s arms.