Work Text:
One. First cranial nerve
The beginning of January is so cold Jisung has to wear his most padded jacket and the biggest, fluffiest scarf he owns. He’s walking with his purple bag on his shoulder, a quickened pace because he doesn’t want to be late. Not today.
Today, being twenty-three years old, he starts the beginning of his journey as a ballet dancer. As a kid he always wanted to dance, but his mom preferred him to do piano instead. It’s not like he hated playing the piano; he loves music in all his forms. But it’s completely different playing a piano piece and dancing a piano piece.
Just before Christmas he went with his friends Hyunjin and Changbin to watch The Nutcracker at his local theater, and he fell in love with ballet once again. That same night, when he arrived home, the first thing he did was to check if there were classes for adults.
Turns out he’s not the only one with frustrated dreams, because an academy not too far from where he lives offers a ballet class for adult beginners. Just his luck.
It wouldn’t be a lie to say that he fell in love with how beautiful the school looked. It seemed small, with only a couple of classrooms, but they seemed quite spacious and it looked like the building wasn’t that old either. But, what really caught his attention was the fact that the owner was a guy. Lee Minho, if the name of the academy ‘Lee Minho’s school of dance’ indicated anything.
He wasn’t the only teacher there, but the class that Jisung was interested in – from 8 to 9pm – was taught by him. Just his luck, again.
He wouldn’t have minded having a female teacher. There are more female ballerinas than male ones, after all, but he has a feeling he’s going to be the only guy there. And yeah, maybe he’s a little bit scared that will be the case. So having a male teacher maybe will help him feel less awkward and more blended in, or at least that’s what he thinks.
It doesn’t take Jisung too long to arrive at the school, located just besides a nail bar. Jisung will have to visit the neighboring business next time; his nails are in urgent need of new nail polish.
He takes a deep breath before ringing the bell. He arrived fifteen minutes earlier just in case, so he can take his time with changing his clothes and familiarizing himself with the school.
A very nice lady – around his mother’s age, he thinks – opens the door for him, welcoming him inside. And then everything hits Jisung’s nose at the same time.
The smell of the wooden floors, of faint air freshener, and the warmth of central heating embraces him. It reminds him a little bit of when he was in school, going to the gym to start his dreaded PE classes.
The nice lady, who turns out to be Lee Minho’s mom, gives him the equipment he purchased a few days ago through their website. It’s a tight spandex t-shirt and a pair of black tights, something he definitely didn’t own before but are absolutely necessary for his new class.
Jisung is guided to a small room, somewhere he can change more privately since the bigger locker room they have is only for girls. There are a couple of benches there, a change of clothes and a backpack on top of one of them. He wonders if they’re Minho’s.
Jisung sits on the opposite bench, opening the clothes from their original packages. The smell of brand-new fabric reaches his nostrils, and he wonders if this smell is better than brand new books. Probably not.
He puts on his tights first, followed by his purple, skin-tight t-shirt with the academy logo in pink and some black shorts. He wasn’t sure if he needed a dancing belt for this class, so his best second option were his gym shorts. The last thing he opens are his brand-new pink ballet shoes, and he kind of tries not to tear up when the smell of the leather reminds him he’s finally living his dream.
Jisung looks at himself in the small mirror in the room above the sink, and he cannot really believe it. He looks like a real ballerino. Finally.
He’s joining the class in the middle of the year, actually, but Lee Minho told him through e-mail that it wasn’t a problem at all. He was going to start a new barre, whatever that meant, so everything would be new for everyone. He also knew Jisung had zero prior dancing experience, so he promised he would be accommodating to Jisung’s needs. He really liked this teacher already.
But liking his new teacher because of an e-mail and liking a completely new environment are two different things.
The anxiety of meeting new people, of doing an activity he has no idea about in front them freaks him out. It was the main reason he didn’t sign up for classes earlier, but the itch of wanting to learn how to dance so gracefully has finally surpassed his anxiety. And Minho’s mom seems pretty nice, so at least he’s on a good start.
He approaches the stairs to go downstairs to what will be his class. The other class is smaller, and isn’t currently occupied, so he takes a small peek inside. It has the same light wooden floor as the entrance of the school, and all the walls are purple but the one fully covered in mirrors. His skin tingles in excitement at the sight.
The other class, his class, has the door closed. He can hear classical music coming from it, with a few young female voices and a soft, masculine voice on top of the others. That has to be Minho.
There are still five minutes left until his class starts, so he decides to sit on the few stairs that separate the two floors.
A couple of women pass him by to go to the locker room on the same floor, and he guesses they will be his classmates. One of them seems around his age, maybe a little bit older, and the other could very well be his own mom. That was fantastic.
Jisung is playing with the elastics of his shoes when the white door opens, and a strong smell of humanity paired with tens of feet in pointe shoes leaving the classroom passes him by.
He gets up to enter the class, the nerves of the first time being there catching up to him. This room is a little bit different, way bigger than the other one and with the walls painted white, but with the same floor. The faint smell of sweat and the clogging of the air kind of overwhelms him a little bit, but it’s quickly diminished by the sweetest, most delicious scent he’s ever had the pleasure to smell.
Jisung turns around the class a bit to smell it properly, until he hears a faint “hey” and he almost jumps out of his skin.
There, in the corner of the room in a chair, sits who he guesses is Lee Minho, looking at him.
“H-hi, uhm, I’m Han Jisung,” he musters, hopefully loud enough that it travels the whole length of the class.
“Oh!” the other gets up, and gracefully walks towards him, extending his hand. “Welcome, Jisung, I was expecting you. I’m Lee Minho.”
The same moment Jisung clasps his hands with Minho’s is when he knows. The most wonderful smell in the world is actually coming from him. Him, who isn’t that much taller than Jisung, wearing black sweatpants, a black t-shirt and black socks. Him, who probably has the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. It dizzies Jisung a bit, leaving him in a small trance until Minho lets go of his hand.
Minho is about to say something else, but the same two women who he just saw enter the class, and he excuses himself to go use the restroom before the class starts.
Nicely enough – everyone seems pretty nice around here – they introduce themselves to Jisung, and the few other ones that come afterwards do the same.
As he expected, he’s the only guy in the class. But, unexpectedly, everyone seems to like him already, and the variety of ages there makes him feel better about how late he’s started this path. He’s scared he will be terrible compared to them, but he’s there to learn, after all. Nobody should expect him to know anything about ballet.
Minho comes back a few minutes later, bringing with him the smell Jisung is going to be thinking about for weeks. It’s musky, with bergamot and some woody and citric undertones, and it’s kind of driving Jisung crazy. He should focus on the rest of the smells, lest he gets too distracted by it and forgets which foot is his right one.
They start the class with a warmup, first with some stretches and then with some ab workouts. Jisung isn’t far from fit; he actually goes a couple times a week to the gym. But the intensity of the workout leaves him a little bit breathless regardless, and he’s not as flexible as he used to be. Or, at least, not as flexible as Minho is, that’s for sure. But he doesn’t seem to be the only one that doesn’t reach the floor with his hands when bending down, so at least there’s that. He’s feeling pretty included already.
The next thing they’re going to do are barre exercises, and Jisung is grateful he has somewhere he can grab onto. They start with pliés, and Jisung doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s trying to follow Minho’s movements from his own barre, and he kind of manages to copy him.
Minho tells him it’s okay for today to just start feeling how these new movements work on his body, to take it easy on bending his knees and not worrying when he can’t really hold himself upright when he goes into his tiptoes.
Next ones are tendus, and Jisung has no idea what that means but he does the foot movement anyways. He keeps his right arm on his waist, because Minho says it’s better just to focus on his feet first. The arm movements can come later.
Jisung goes through some other stuff that somehow seems the same as what he did earlier, but Minho shows him the difference between jetés and tendus with a big smile on his face, and Jisung’s chest warms up a bit.
They finish with an easy rond-de-jambe, Minho’s words, because there’s nothing easy about rond-de-jambes and Jisung thinks he’s been sliding his feet the wrong direction all this time.
But, even if Jisung doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time, Minho doesn’t mind. Jisung had a feeling Minho was going to be a good teacher, and he’s an amazing teacher. He takes all the time needed so Jisung understands how to do a movement, even if he has to copy whoever he has in front anyways because he completely forgot the movements already. He’s loving the hell out of it regardless of anything.
Towards the end of the class they move to the center of the classroom, so Minho can teach them a new adagio. Jisung is going to assume that means the same as in music, and it gets confirmed when the dance Minho shows them is slow, flowy.
Minho is probably the best dancer Jisung has ever seen. Okay, maybe he hasn’t seen many dancers before, but Minho has something special. It seems like every single muscle he moves is with purpose, and flows around the class with lightness, mixing all their aromas with the musk of his own.
Jisung trips twice with his own feet during the adagio, but he’s learned more ballet steps in the last forty-five minutes than in his whole life. Not that he knew that many before, but his head is starting to hurt from all the new information. He absolutely loves the sensation.
The class ends with a bit of stretching, and Jisung feels the happiest he’s been in a long time.
When everyone leaves the class, Minho lightly grabs his arm to stop him.
“How was the class?” he asks, and Jisung has to stop himself from doing something as silly as burying his face in the crook of Minho’s neck. Now that he’s even more sweaty, his natural odor is way more prominent. It smells like heaven.
“I loved it!” Jisung answers, bouncing a little bit on the ball of his feet. “I know I sucked pretty badly, but I’ve learnt so much this past hour it’s been amazing.”
Minho lets out a small laugh. “Well, although you didn’t suck pretty badly as you think, you’re here to learn. And I think you’re a pretty fast learner, so I have high hopes for you.”
The soft smile on Minho’s face melts Jisung’s insides.
“Will you stay for the rest of the year?” the teacher asks, and Jisung doesn’t doubt for a single second his answer.
“Absolutely!” he exclaims. “I loved your class, and I want to continue for sure.”
“I’m really glad to hear that, then.”
Jisung is about to add something else, but some other people are starting to get inside the class already.
“Oh, I have to teach my jazz class now. See you on Wednesday?” Minho says, and Jisung kind of wishes he had the time for jazz as well.
“Absolutely, teacher! See you on Wednesday.”
“Just call me Minho,” he laughs, and Jisung storms off the class at the start of the beat of September by Earth, Wind and Fire.
When Jisung steps on the cold night air, the first thing he misses is Minho’s scent.
Two. Dorsal column-medial lemniscus pathway
One month into his classes, and Jisung can easily do a tendu cross and even grand battements.
But that’s the thing. He knows the basics of every movement he has been taught – he’s a pretty fast learner, as Minho said – but now it’s time to polish them.
The posture in ballet is the most important thing; one muscle not properly being used and your balance is completely lost.
That’s why Minho has been insisting on Jisung's posture a whole lot lately.
It’s Wednesday, his last class of the week, and lately Jisung has been able to do most of the exercises on the barre without looking at the girl’s feet in front of him. He still forgets some of the steps sometimes, so Minho does the exercises with them to help.
Minho has added a few balancing poses right after the exercises, and that’s what Jisung’s been struggling with the most.
That’s why, that same day, Minho approaches Jisung when it’s time to do a relevé in fifth position. Jisung isn’t able to let go of the barre to balance on his own yet, even less do the more complicated positions properly, like the one on coupé or passé. Let’s not even think about the one in attitude.
The music has finished, and Minho stands in front of Jisung with his black, shiny eyes looking directly at him. He crouches down, reaching for Jisung’s feet.
“You have to press your feet together,” Minho says, and Jisung almost loses his balance when he feels Minho’s delicate hands on his feet.
It’s always like that. Minho touches Jisung anywhere on his body and electricity immediately runs through his skin.
Jisung brings his feet closer to each other, until there’s no space in between them.
“That’s it,” Minho says, and he raises to slightly touch Jisung’s hips. The warmth of Minho’s touch burns. “Now, press your adductors tightly.”
Jisung complies, and he already feels his balance improving significantly.
“Now, tighten your belly, straighten your back and lower your shoulders,” Minho continues, and he slightly presses Jisung’s shoulders down. Jisung finally lets go of the barre, and he doesn’t fall for the first time.
“There you go, Jisung, you got it,” the teacher says with a smile on his face, even if Jisung is trembling from the effort of not falling from his tiptoes. “Now just show your collarbones more,” he says, and Jisung almost falls from the sparking touch on his chest.
Minho looks back at his eyes again while he adjusts the roundness of his arms, and places a single digit under Jisung’s chin to tilt it higher. “With your arms stronger and your chin high. Perfect, Jisung.”
Jisung manages to balance out on relevé for the first time without the barre, but all he can feel is his skin tingling everywhere Minho touched him.
The class continues with small corrections like that one, and Jisung cannot help but notice that it’s him who he touches the most.
Like, okay, Jisung is a complete newbie in ballet; some of his classmates have been dancing in that class for three years already. But he can sometimes see them struggle with balancing or executing a specific step, and what Minho does is correct them verbally, physical touch way less present.
And it’s Jisung who he corrects the most amongst the eight people they are, too. Minho’s been keeping an extra eye on him ever since the first class, always making sure Jisung understands the steps or answers any doubts he has. Jisung thinks it’s because he has no dancing experience whatsoever, but he cannot help but fan himself internally any time he struggles and Minho is there to help him.
Minho decides Jisung can try adding arms for the next exercise, and Jisung has a slight idea of how to position them if the foot goes forward, to the side or backwards, but for the life of him he has no idea what “raise the elbow” means.
So Minho, as the amazing teacher he is, takes his time explaining how it is.
He positions himself behind Jisung, with one hand circling his waist and the other touching Jisung’s right arm. He feels Minho’s breath faintly on his nape, and how soft his hands are against his skin. Jisung is going to faint soon.
Minho corrects Jisung's posture by pressing a hand on his belly, which automatically makes Jisung lower his shoulders and raise his chest. Like wearing a beautiful necklace, Minho always says.
Minho then moves beside Jisung to correct his thumb, something he’s still trying his best to be mindful of and do properly. He rotates his arm so his elbow is higher, maintaining his shoulder lowered and lowering his hand a bit.
Jisung struggles to maintain the position, but Minho smiles proudly at him. “Exactly like that, Jisung. You’re a natural.”
He manages to do the remaining exercises without messing up the arms, and he feels extremely proud of himself.
But it seems that Minho is not done making Jisung feel like a puddle, because once again he corrects his feet and arms while doing the adagio, and it takes all of Jisung’s will not to melt right then and there.
Ten minutes to finish the class and Minho decides to teach them the basics of waltz. Everyone else in class seems somehow acquainted with how to move their feet in times of three, but it takes Jisung his whole brain to do everything at the right tempo. He crosses his feet through the front instead of the back, and when he looks at Minho after the mistake, he sees him looking back at Jisung fondly. Oh well.
Before Jisung has any time to process anything Minho moves towards him, locating himself behind Jisung.
The coldness of his arms is quickly replaced by warmth at the teacher’s touch, sending shivers down his spine.
Minho moves Jisung’s arms to show him how to properly place them, tilting his torso in the process.
“Once you close your left arm is when you bend your right leg,” Minho says, and the warm air of his breath beside Jisung’s ear tickle his brain.
Jisung follows the step, finally managing to cross his left leg behind and not in front of the other.
“And now you step in relevé on your left leg,” Minho continues, “right foot en pointe, and then you go down again.”
Minho accompanies him through the step from the beginning again, and Jisung achieves to follow the directions, even if his right foot is not completely stretched out, his plié is not deep enough and his arms are still a bit awkwardly positioned.
Jisung then gets guided to do the same to the left, and soon enough Minho is just doing balancés with him, holding Jisung’s arms as they waltz together.
They both get a bit carried away, because soon enough Minho has Jisung doing a small spin and, even if Jisung doesn’t know where he’s stepping his feet on, he feels like he's floating.
Minho lets go of him and Jisung just gets lost in the way they’re looking at each other, and the small clapping from his classmates is the only thing that gets Jisung feeling the floor beneath him again.
“You just did a balancé en tournant, Jisung!” Minho exclaims, the biggest smile on his face Jisung has ever seen. “You’re truly a natural at this.”
Jisung feels the heat on his cheeks, mumbling a small “thank you”. He has no idea of what he just did, but getting complimented by Minho has himself aware of how fast his heart is beating inside his chest.
Minho smiles and claps faintly, going to turn off the music. “Good job everyone, thank you very much. See you on Monday!”
The whole walk home, Jisung thinks of how amazing it felt to dance with his teacher. How Minho perfectly wrapped his hands on his forearms, them being just the right size enveloping Jisung to gently guide him.
He’s never seen him dance with someone else in class, or at least not like this. Does that make Jisung special?
The warmth on his chest at the thought lingers for the rest of the week.
Three. Eighth cranial nerve
It’s the end of February and Jisung has more or less mastered the basics of ballet, even if his movements are still kind of awkward.
What he hasn’t mastered yet, though, is how to follow along the music. Sometimes he’s too caught up in not messing up his steps that he misses the tempo. Some others the music is just too fast for him to catch up.
Minho has been doing a wonderful job in helping him with this, of course. He suggests Jisung to just take his time and feel the music in him, letting himself go even if the steps aren’t correct.
That alone has made Jisung a way better dancer, because he now actually feels like he’s dancing instead of repeating a series of steps.
And, when letting go doesn’t do the job and he still messes up pretty bad, Minho takes his time to demonstrate for him how the steps and the music should match.
Sometimes he does it from his own barre or in front of them when they’re in the middle of the classroom, and some others he goes personally besides Jisung so they can count the steps together with and without music.
Now, every time Jisung follows a choreography he’s still not familiar with, he counts all the steps in eights so he doesn’t miss the beat. Jisung thinks it’s been working pretty well, if the praises he gets from Minho are anything to go by.
Jisung changes to his now usual black tights, shorts and black t-shirt, an extra thin sweater on top because he gets too cold before he’s all warmed up. He decided to purchase some leg warmers as well; he doesn’t want to get injured because his muscles aren’t toasty enough.
The class just before him has ended, so he gets in to do his usual stretches before the actual class starts. He sometimes talks with some of his classmates – he’s getting along with a few of them pretty well – but today he’s still all alone.
Well, alone with Minho.
Apart from a brief hello, Jisung tries not to pay attention to him. It’s not easy having one of the nicest and most handsome people he knows as his ballet teacher; it’s been quite difficult to keep him out of his mind outside of class because of that. He thinks of Minho when he’s shopping in the supermarket, when he’s restocking the new books at his bookstore. He thinks of him when he’s alone sitting in the couch of his apartment, thinking if the mere presence of his voice there would cure his loneliness. Jisung is pretty sure it would.
Jisung is stretching his legs when he starts hearing a faint humming. It’s as if an angel came down from heaven and started whispering the secrets of the universe straight into his brain.
He glances upwards, and he recognizes the voice. It’s Minho’s. Minho is singing.
Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours the amount of time that he stares at him, while Minho scrolls mindlessly through his iPad, oblivious of how much he’s shaking Jisung’s world.
Minho is humming to a song and Jisung is in love with his voice.
One of his friends from class comes in and sits beside him to stretch, and he has no other choice but stop listening to him and listen to her instead. Not that he minds, he loves talking with her. But now, with the knowledge of how Minho’s voice actually sounds like when he sings, there’s nothing else he wants to hear.
For Jisung’s demise, when everyone gets in the classroom Minho stops singing. He wonders what he needs to do to get to hear him sing again.
They go through their stretching and barre exercises as usual but, instead of continuing the rest of the class, Minho sits them in a semi-circle around his chair in the corner.
“As you all know, the school celebrates a dancing festival every year,” Minho starts, but glances at Jisung immediately, frowning. “Although not sure you knew that, Jisung.”
Jisung shakes his head, completely unaware of that fact. He never thought he would have to dance in front of people when he enrolled this class, but he guesses it’s only natural they would be doing something like this.
“I had no idea, actually,” Jisung says, biting his lip.
“Well,” Minho continues, turning around to grab his iPad. “We do it on the local auditorium, around the end of June every year. Each class has their own dance, and this year the theme will be the four seasons.”
Minho goes on to explain all the details of the festival, on how every group will represent a different thing from one of the seasons.
“This group will belong to autumn,” Minho explains, showing them a few concept photos on the screen. “and you will be the rain.”
Ohs and ahs are shared amongst everyone, and Jisung is extremely curious about how Minho is going to choreograph a dance about the rain in autumn.
“It’s going to be a slow dance,” the teacher continues, “consistent throughout the whole song but sometimes getting stronger, just like how it rains for a long while but sometimes water starts falling harder.”
Everyone gets really excited with the explanation, and Minho showing them the wardrobe they will be wearing only increases the excitement. All the girls will be wearing dark blue maillots with long and flowy blue-sky skirts, and Jisung will be wearing a dark blue maillot too, with blue-sky tights to match and flowy shorts of the same color.
The last thing the teacher shares is the song they will be dancing to. Minho plays the song from the tablet, a piano piece with raining sounds in the background. Jisung doesn’t recognize the piece at first, but then he knows. It’s the song Minho was humming earlier.
Jisung closes his eyes, letting the music flow through his ears. Just as Minho explained it’s slow and soft for the most part, but it gets intense in a couple of moments, and it feels exactly like those autumn afternoons cuddled with a blanket and the rain patting on the window.
But what Jisung notices the most through the song is Minho humming along, although it’s so faint he’s pretty sure no one else is hearing him but Jisung. He wonders when he got so good at being aware of every single thing Minho does.
He daydreams of how it would be to hear that voice all the time; when waking up in the morning, while having a meal together, before falling asleep. Hearing Minho sing around his apartment, or talking about his classes, or about anything he pleases to share with Jisung. He would give everything to have a chance to do all of that with Minho. But Minho’s his teacher and, even if he knows he’s single, he feels he would never be enough for him.
When the song is done Minho asks for their opinions, and they all unanimously agree that it’s going to be fantastic. The teacher tells them that after the barre every day they will be working on the dance, so everyone knows it well enough to dance it confidently.
Jisung isn’t sure about that, though. The moment he heard that he will be dancing in front of people made him start feeling anxious already. But he wanted to become a dancer thanks to watching other people dance in stage, and now he will have the chance to be on that side. He should be excited, right?
While Minho teaches them the first few steps of their choreography, he gives Jisung a few concerned glances. Jisung thinks it’s only his imagination playing tricks, but when Minho stops him before he leaves for the night, he knows Minho knows.
“Hey, Jisung, can I talk to you for a second?” Minho asks, guiding him outside the class so the jazz students can start stretching.
“Is everything okay?” the teacher continues, and Jisung cannot help the long sigh. The last thing he wants to do is worry Minho with his nervousness and anxiety.
“It’s just…” Jisung starts, fidgeting with his fingers. All he can hear is the beat of Gold by Spandau Ballet coming from the class and the ringing on his ears. “I didn’t know I would have to perform in front of so many people.”
Minho sighs and smiles faintly at what Jisung says, squeezing Jisung’s shoulders lightly. “If you don’t feel like you’re ready, you don’t have to participate. I would never obligate you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
Jisung relaxes at that, even if he already knew Minho would never push him to do something out of his comfort zone. Being told he doesn’t have to considerably diminishes his anxiety, though.
“I know I don’t have to do it, but…” Jisung says, his voice small. “can I just think about it?”
Minho gives his shoulders another soft squeeze before dropping his hands to his sides, and offers him a bigger smile. “Of course, Jisung, you can think about it as much as you need to. Just let me know as soon as you decide, so I can rearrange the positions if you decide not to participate.”
Jisung nods, and takes the opportunity to ask something else he’s been filling his head with. “Will I… will I have a different dance than the girls?”
Minho doesn’t seem surprised at the question, shaking his head. “No, even if some male movements in ballet are different, I created this dance for all of you regardless of gender.”
Of course you would, you’re wonderful, Jisung thinks. “That’s nice then,” he says. “I will let you know when I think about it?”
“Of course, Jisung,” Minho smiles at him again, and turns around to get into the classroom. “See you on Wednesday?”
“See you then, Minho.”
On his way home, Jisung shoves all the anxiety about performing into the back of his mind, and enjoys the memory of Minho singing instead.
Four. Fifth, eighth, ninth and tenth cranial nerves
Jisung is finishing his third coffee of the day the moment he steps on the school entrance.
He greets Minho’s mom as usual and heads to get changed, not before finishing until the last drop of the bitter coffee from the cup.
Jisung has had the longest day today; a huge shipment of new books arrived at the store, and moving the boxes around took all his energy. And, on top of everything, Minho’s jazz class of today has been cancelled, so they’re going to stay for a few extra minutes perfecting what they have learnt of the dance until now.
Jisung doesn’t like the lingering taste of the coffee before he has to do any kind of physical effort, and he probably won’t be able to sleep later at night, but it’s either that or falling asleep in the middle of class. He prefers the sugar-less coffee.
The class goes as always. They stretch, do slightly shorter barre exercises to have time to dance later, and Jisung thinks of how Minho’s lips would taste like.
Jisung thought that the silly little crush he had on his teacher would have subsided by now. But it’s the middle of April, the warm weather is approaching, and his heart is starting to get warmer as well.
Jisung doesn’t think it’s a silly little crush anymore.
The choreography is halfway done already, and they’re currently polishing it before continuing with the second part. For the last sequence Jisung has to dance with a partner – lucky for him, it’s his best friend from class – and they have to do a small soutenu together.
But Jisung feels a little bit jittery, probably because of the coffee, and he’s not getting it correctly.
Minho approaches him to ask what’s wrong, of course, but Jisung just shrugs it off as being a little bit tired. The teacher gives him the look of you better not be lying, and Jisung shrinks on the spot.
Like, okay, maybe he’s not only tired. Maybe he’s also a little bit stressed about trying to match all his female classmates, and today he’s specially self-conscious on how slightly different his steps look like. But Minho cannot possibly read that on Jisung, can he?
Luckily for Jisung, Minho doesn’t question him anymore. He helps Jisung with the things he’s struggling with today, which are more than usual, but he manages without any more concerned looks.
It’s almost time to leave, so Minho tells them to go from the beginning one last time, and then they’ll be free to go.
But Jisung is not feeling well. And because he’s – well, Jisung, he doesn’t say a single word.
The beginning doesn’t go as disastrous as he thought, even if Jisung feels like he’s dancing with less energy that he should. At least the dance is slow and most of it is easy, so he can save up some energy for the part he dances with his partner.
Jisung does the balancé en tournant first, then goes to face his classmate to do the soutenu together. But somehow he steps on the wrong foot first, and then one second he feels crashing towards her, and the next his face is against the floor.
Jisung feels nothing but the taste of blood in his mouth.
He senses Minho approaching, his arms around Jisung the second he starts to sit up. It takes a few seconds to open up his eyes and focus his sight, only to look up at the most concerned frown he’s seen on his teacher’s face.
“Oh my god, Jisung, are you okay?” Minho asks, crouching in front of him.
He blinks a few times to dissipate the mental fog of having fallen down, and then he reaches a single digit to touch his lips.
“Don’t,” Minho says, grabbing his wrist before Jisung gets to touch them. “You busted your lip, don’t touch it.”
Jisung swallows and shudders at the metallic taste, getting up with the help of Minho and the classmate he collided with. She seems like she didn’t fall, so at least there’s that.
“Okay, class is over, girls. Go home and rest.” Minho says, and in no time they’re all alone in the class.
“Are you okay?” Minho asks again.
Jisung looks at him and, even if he still looks concerned, he’s not frowning anymore.
“Yeah,” Jisung answers. “I think I stepped on the wrong foot.”
“Yeah, I saw you did,” Minho comments, and guides Jisung towards the entrance of the school.
Jisung sits on the couch there while Minho fetches the medical aid kit, and before he comes back everyone but Minho’s mom has already left.
“You can go home, mom,” the teacher says, dropping a small red bag beside Jisung. “I’ll close up on my own.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, but she’s already gathering all her things.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow?”
“Okay, darling,” she says, kissing Minho’s cheek goodbye and waving Jisung on the way out.
With only the two of them left in the school it feels too quiet, but comfortably so. Jisung cannot help but be a little bit nervous being completely alone with Minho, though.
Minho takes his sweet time cleaning up Jisung’s busted lip with chlorhexidine. He dabs on the lip softly, as if he doesn’t want to make it more painful for Jisung.
Jisung takes that time to look at Minho, appreciating every single straight line and curve of his face. He has a mole on the tip of his nose, Jisung now notices, and he wishes he could place his lips there every day for the rest of his life.
When Minho finishes cleaning his lip he quietly leaves to store the kit, and then comes back to sit beside Jisung.
They look at each other for a bit but, before Jisung can blush from just getting looked at, Minho speaks.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Minho asks, and Jisung has the feeling the teacher is not only asking about the lip, but he doesn’t dare to talk about the other stuff.
“I am,” Jisung sighs. “I just had a really long day at work, and I don’t think it was a good idea to drink coffee before class today.”
Minho snickers faintly, shaking his head at Jisung. “No wonder you were so jittery while dancing today.”
“Hey!” Jisung pouts, but he winces at the pain the gesture causes him. “I was trying my best, okay?”
Minho looks at him, a soft glint of amusement on his eyes. “I know you were, Jisung. You always do your best.”
Jisung tries to fight his blush, but he fails miserably. If Minho notices it, he doesn’t say anything, at least.
“But,” Minho continues, and Jisung is not sure if his hand moved further towards Jisung’s, or it is only his imagination. He hopes he didn’t get a concussion. “I think there’s something else worrying you.”
So he did notice, Jisung thinks.
Jisung turns to sit facing Minho now, so at least he can be a little bit more comfortable physically while talking about this.
“I’m just…” Jisung starts. “I’m worried about what people will think when they see our dance.”
“What do you mean?” Minho asks, and the honest surprise in his tone makes Jisung squirm.
“It has nothing to do with the actual dance, I promise,” Jisung shakes his hands in front of him. “It’s more about- well… me being part of it.”
Minho goes back and forth between Jisung’s eyes and sighs, this time reaching a hand to squeeze Jisung’s one.
“Is it because you’re the only guy? And you’re afraid of what people will think of you?”
Jisung shouldn’t be so surprised at how accurate Minho is at reading him, but he still is. He ducks his head to hide his face in embarrassment, but Minho guides it back up with a finger under his chin.
“You don’t have to be ashamed of who you are, Jisung,” Minho says, and with how comforting his tone is, Jisung immediately believes him. “Dancing is for everyone, regardless of gender. If anyone thinks lowly of you for doing what you love, screw them.”
Jisung avoids his gaze, trying really hard to fight his tears.
“It’s just –“ Jisung gulps, the mix of blood and coffee still lingering on his tongue. “I don’t want to be stared down or judged by people that know nothing about me.”
Minho gets closer to Jisung, squeezing his hand again. “Jisung, you have improved incredibly in the past months, and if someone doesn’t want to see that just because you’re not wearing a skirt, then it’s their loss.”
Jisung’s eyes widen up, finally looking up at him. “You really think so?”
Minho smiles, nodding his head. “Absolutely! I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone learn so fast before.”
Jisung can’t help but smile, and all the tears that he felt were about to leave his waterline are starting to dry.
“Plus,” Minho continues, “I’ve had my fair share of judging before too, but I can assure you that it’s gotten so much better. I promise you that, in the festival, people will see Jisung the dancer, and nothing else.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Minho leaves a final squeeze on Jisung’s hand before getting up, and goes to the storage room to retrieve a bottle of water for Jisung.
Jisung almost downs half of it in one take, and the feeling of water washing away the remaining taste of the coffee and the fresh blood makes his face go sour.
“What’s wrong? Does your lip hurt too much?” Minho asks.
“Oh no, no, just hate drinking water when all I can taste is iron and mediocre coffee, I guess.”
Minho laughs, and gets up again to go to the small locker room. Jisung thinks he’s just going to start changing and leave – it’s 9:30pm already! – but Minho comes back with a blue packet in his hand.
“Here,” Minho offers him the small packet, and Jisung realizes it’s mint gum. “It will take away the bad taste.”
Jisung smiles shyly, and accepts the gum.
Minho sits in front of him again, and starts chewing his own gum as well.
They look at each other for a few seconds in silence, but Jisung doesn’t feel uncomfortable with it. He focuses on the taste of the mint, washing away all the previous bitterness.
Minho’s lips come to his mind again. He wonders how Minho’s mint gum would taste in between their tongues, if he would make it taste sweet and warm instead of spicy and cold.
Jisung quickly corners those thoughts in the back of his head, lest he does something as stupid as closing the small distance between them and check for himself.
He instead opts to talk. “Thank you so much, Minho.”
Minho smiles at him, tilting his head a bit. “What for?”
“Just…” Jisung scratches his nape. “Thank you for the words, I guess. They really comforted me. And for taking care of my lip, too.”
Minho’s smile now shows all his teeth, and Jisung cannot help but mimic the gesture as wide as his busted lip allows. “You’re more than welcome, Jisung. Actually…”
The teacher stands up, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He unlocks it and gives it to Jisung, showing a new contact page on the screen.
“If you ever need to talk about it,” Minho says shrugging, and Jisung’s brain almost short-circuits.
Jisung enters his number with shaky fingers and saves himself as “Jisung =)”, and sends himself a message that makes a ping resonate from the locker room.
“There you go,” Jisung gives the phone back, and holds onto the grounding taste of the mint for dear life. He just got Minho’s personal phone number. He’s truly winning in life.
On his way back home, he gets a message from Minho.
Minho
You’ll have to repay me for the mint gum
Jisung lets out the biggest laugh, but curses at how painful it is because of his busted lip.
Me
Does coffee sound good as a repayment?
Minho
Absolutely
Are you free this Saturday?
A mint gum never tasted sweeter.
Five. Second cranial nerve
Jisung thinks it’s around May that he stops seeing Minho only as a crush.
He sees Minho as the sweetest, funniest, most charming person in the world. Handsome, caring and with the most unique personality he has ever seen.
Jisung sees him as the best chance at love he’s ever had.
Minho and Jisung have been texting a whole lot. Since they went for coffee that day they haven’t been able to meet again, as Jisung is very busy with work and Minho is busy trying not to go insane with all the choreographies he has to make work for the festival. But that doesn’t mean Jisung doesn’t spend his entire free time chatting with Minho.
Jisung has learnt so much about him, actually. Minho’s the proud father of three cats, and his gallery is now full of pictures that Minho sends to him. Jisung was actually surprised the teacher is only a couple of years older than him, because he’s had his academy running for a few years now. Jisung truly admires him for that.
The thing is, at the very beginning of their conversations, Jisung wasn’t really sure if the feelings he has for Minho would ever be reciprocated.
But, as time went by, Minho started shamelessly flirting with him and now Jisung is on cloud nine. Maybe not everything is in Jisung’s head.
It’s the middle of June, and there’s only a week and a half left before the festival.
Jisung is proud to admit that he has completely and utterly mastered their choreography. The eight of them flow effortlessly through the piano and the rain now, so much that Minho assures them it’s going to be one of the best performances of the night.
Something new Jisung has been doing a lot in class lately is stare at Minho. He looks at him any second he can during the barre and, instead of looking at himself when they mark any step on the mirror, he keeps staring at Minho’s face.
And well, Minho knows Jisung stares, because the teacher looks at Jisung when he’s dancing with them just the same.
When they’re going through the actual choreography Jisung mostly looks at himself in the mirror, but he always spares fleeting glances at Minho sitting in the corner. Eight out of ten times, he catches Minho staring back. Jisung thinks it’s not ten out of ten times because Minho has to pay attention to the rest of his classmates too.
Even if Jisung is pretty sure Minho reciprocates at least a bit of the interest Jisung has for him, neither of them have done anything about it.
They’ve been keeping it at videocalls at night, while Minho cooks dinner and Jisung eats his takeout. At pictures of themselves through the week, of Minho’s cats and Jisung’s plants, and conversations of any kind. They keep it on the verge of something more, and Jisung wonders when the right time will be to take the remaining step.
Probably when Minho is not on the verge of mentally collapsing from all the stress of the festival.
Jisung has had his festival outfit at home for a couple of weeks now, and today they’re doing a run of the dance with it to test if it’s comfortable enough for everyone.
He goes to change to the blue-sky tights, midnight maillots and fluffy shorts to the small locker room. Between the gym and the dancing he has bulked up quite a bit in comparison to the beginning of the year, so the outfit looks extremely good on him. He hopes Minho thinks the same.
All his classmates look gorgeous with their flowy skirts too, as if they were raindrops themselves.
Minho passes by Jisung to start the music, but he stops for a second to whisper “you look amazing” while locking gazes on the mirror, and it almost makes Jisung’s knees buckle.
The fleeting contact boosts Jisung’s confidence immensely, because he dances the whole song with his chin high and his arms stronger than ever. This time he doesn’t dare to look at Minho directly, though, but he knows Minho is looking at him. He feels the piercing gaze on his temple.
The dancing looks beautiful with the flow of the skirts. They are long enough that they reach their ankles, but the outfits aren’t different enough to make Jisung feel out of place.
His stronger mindset regarding himself has been mostly Minho’s work, actually. Every time Jisung felt his confidence decrease he reached to his teacher, and all his worries faded in seconds. Jisung calls it the Lee Minho effect.
The music ends and Minho gives them a big applause. The wardrobe is perfect, the dance is polished to near perfection and everyone is feeling confident.
When they lock gazes through the mirror again, Jisung sees how proud Minho is of them, of him.
The festival is going to be a hit.
Just before finishing the class, one of the older students suggests going for dinner together after the festival. Jisung isn’t one to go out with classmates or coworkers – aside from Minho, obviously – so he doesn’t feel like going. Plus, it will be after the festival and he’s pretty sure he’ll be tired as hell.
But Minho agrees immediately, and Jisung doesn’t even think twice about saying yes.
The rest of the class consists of making small tweaks of wardrobe with the help of Minho’s mom (he got to learn her name is Minjee), and making sure their feet are pointed during the dance, their chests high and their thumbs tucked in.
Minho excuses himself for a second at the end of the class, so everyone takes that chance to discuss whether or not to gift Minho flowers for the festival.
Jisung’s best friend from class told him they do this every year, even if Minho always insists it’s not necessary.
Well, that’s his opinion.
Jisung offers to buy the bouquet himself, since he lives pretty close to the auditorium to grab the flowers the same day.
They agree on the budget just before Minho enters again, some scissors in hands to cut a few loose strands from the skirts.
When class time’s up and the few jazz students start entering the class with their sparkling, summery golden outfits, Minho stops Jisung once again.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m really proud of you, Jisung,” Minho says, standing beside his chair and keeping his voice low. “You just started six months ago, but you dance as well as anyone else in the class. Your passion is unmatched,” he smiles. “I hope you’re proud of yourself too.”
Jisung blinks to fight the blurriness of the tears in his eyes. The last thing he wants to do is cry in front of who he admires the most in this world. Or well, at least he doesn’t want to cry in front of him in class.
“Thank you so much,” Jisung mumbles. It’s not that Jisung hasn’t noticed his improvement, of course not. But hearing it from Minho… it makes it all worth it.
Minho quickly squeezes one of Jisung’s hands, and Jisung looks straight into his eyes in surprise.
Minho looks tired, but his gaze oozes proudness and a special glint that makes Jisung’s heart do somersaults.
Jisung thinks of that look until the day of the festival.
+ One. The Heart and the Brain
The day of the festival has finally arrived.
Jisung arrives before anyone, the flowers they all cashed for to buy for Minho in hand.
It’s probably the pretties bouquet he’s ever seen; he went to order it to the flower shop two minutes away from the dance school. It’s a mix of cosmos, peonies and baby’s breath, and it smells so wonderful that Jisung’s pretty sure he’s going to be smelling of flowers for the rest of the night.
Even if theirs won’t be the only flowers Minho will be receiving that night, Jisung still hopes he will like them.
He sneaks to a secluded dressing room to leave the flowers there, so he can fetch them right after the closing number.
Their dance is going to be the sixth one of a total of twenty-four dances, so he’s glad he arrived early to have time to change before the festival starts.
Minho is extremely busy going around and making sure the youngest groups are taken care of, while he reminds other groups to either hurry up or take their time with their make-up.
It’s not until both Jisung and his classmates are fully changed and halfway through their makeup that Minho appears at their dressing room.
“Wow, you all look spectacular!” Minho says, his eyes roaming through everyone and finally falling on Jisung. Minho stops his gaze there longer than he probably can afford, but it fills Jisung with confidence regardless.
“When you’re done,” the teacher continues, “go upstairs to the stage and get your individual and group photos taken. The show starts in fifteen!”
As soon as Minho is done with giving that information he’s storming out of the room again, but not without sparing a last glance to Jisung. It makes him blush fiercely.
Jisung poses for his solo photo a few minutes after, and then his classmates gather around him. They convince him to kneel in the middle while the rest surround him, proudly showing their flowy skirts. He hopes the awkward smile on his face is not shown much in the picture.
The festival starts not long after.
It’s the turn of autumn first, and Jisung is shaking while waiting on the wings of the stage. He can clearly see the amount of people that came to see them, and it’s making him feel the same bad nerves that flooded him at the beginning of the year.
But then he reminds himself of the words Minho told him last week; of how his sweet voice said that he was proud of him.
Jisung cannot let Minho or his classmates down.
The group before them is finishing their contemporary dance, and it takes all of Jisung’s will not to run away and throw up in the first bathroom he finds.
Minho is there with them, sharing encouraging words to the different levels of nervousness in the group.
Jisung hears the clapping for the group that has just finished, which means it’s now his turn.
Just before they have to go in and pose for the beginning of the dance, Minho squeezes Jisung’s elbow and mouths a “you’ll do amazing” and gives him a small smile.
All of Jisung’s nerves float away.
Jisung steps on the stage, his back towards the audience. He smells the artificial fog on the stage, feels his cold hands where he’s embracing himself sitting on the ground. He hears nothing but the anticipation of the public, and he still can taste the mint gum he was chewing five minutes ago to calm down his nerves. Jisung finally sees light, and the music starts.
He doesn’t remember much of the time on stage. Jisung remembers looking at his classmates, at his dancing partner before doing the soutenu. He remembers the squeaks of his shoes in the floor of the stage, and how cold it was on his knees when he had to kneel for one of the steps. He remembers feeling his dream come true, until the music stopped and the clapping thundered on his ears.
No mistakes, chin high, heart full. Jisung has done it.
Jisung regains his full consciousness when he steps on the wings of the stage, and he immediately feels a set of strong arms embrace him.
“You did so well,” Minho mutters, and it tickles his ear with how close he is.
Jisung is lost in the warmth of the hug, in the smell that has been haunting his dreams since the first day he put foot on his class. He feels how quick his heart is beating, but he feels Minho’s too at the same speed. Jisung hopes that means what he thinks it means.
When they separate different sets of arms hug him as well, and at least he’s relieved everyone is hugging everyone. He wouldn’t want to be the only one hugging Minho; he deserves all the hugs in the world.
“I’m so proud of all of you,” Minho says, and Jisung shudders at the truth his voice exudes. “You all shone brighter than the sun out there. Good job!”
The rest of the festival goes by a breeze, all of them either resting at the dressing room or watching the performances from the wings of the stage.
All of Jisung’s nerves from the performance dissipated the second he stepped on the stage, but now he’s starting to be nervous because of something else.
Later, when the festival is done, Minho will be going to have dinner with them, not with anyone else, and summer vacation will start for the older one.
Does that mean Jisung finally has a chance to confess his feelings and see if Minho wants to pursue something with him? He really hopes so, but hopefully not at the expense of being on the verge of a heart attack the rest of the night.
The last performance is a cheerful, easy dance that every single class is doing together. Then the confetti will pop, balloons will float around, and Jisung will do the sprint of his life to grab the flowers that are waiting downstairs.
Jisung almost slips the bouquet once and trips twice, but he makes it in time to Minho thanking all the families for coming.
It’s a little girl, a slighter older boy, a couple of teenagers and him that approach a now teared-eye Minho with flowers and other gifts.
Everyone in the public is standing and clapping at Minho and the other teachers, who are also receiving all the love from their students.
Jisung gives the flowers to Minho last, and the look on his face will be one for the books, one for Jisung to remember for the rest of his life.
Minho gives Jisung a quick one-armed hug, trying not to crush the flowers. Jisung knows he cannot be too showing of his affection, but the small squeeze on his waist is enough to understand that Minho is extremely touched by Jisung’s presence there.
When all tears are shed and all words are spoken, everyone goes to their dressing rooms to get changed.
The whole group waits for Minho to reunite with them outside, since he’s being stopped over and over to be congratulated for such a successful festival.
Lucky for them the restaurant they’re going to is right beside the auditorium, and the kitchen doesn’t close until 12am, because Jisung is starving.
Dinnertime is extremely pleasant, for Jisung’s delight. Minho looks like he gained twenty years of lifespan and lifted off his shoulders twenty-five trucks worth of weight, laughing airy at the jokes the girls do. Jisung finds himself laughing along them too, very comfortable in the presence of his dearest classmates.
When dinner is finished and the bill is split, one of them suggests to get some drinks.
Jisung would rather go home and sleep though, even if it means spending less time with Minho, because all the emotions from the day are starting to weight on him.
But, to his surprise, Minho declines the offer too and then asks Jisung if he can walk him home.
When they part ways from the group everyone else is giving Jisung the look, and he should have expected them knowing there might be something going on between him and Minho, but that doesn’t mean he blushes any less.
“Where do you live?” Minho asks, once they’re far away enough from everyone else.
“Just a few streets passing the Hospital,” Jisung answers, and he shudders at the faint touch of their hands while walking.
Their walk to Jisung’s house is quiet at first, but then Minho intertwines his hand with his, and Jisung’s whole body burns aflame.
“You did an amazing job with the festival,” Jisung dares to say, and he feels Minho walking a little bit closer to him.
“I’m glad you liked it; I almost went insane with it.”
Jisung laughs and squeezes Minho’s hand, who reciprocates the gesture.
“So,” Jisung continues, “does that mean you’re a free man now?”
Minho laughs as well and nods. “Yup, at least for a couple of months, until I have to start planning the classes for September.”
Jisung bits his lip. He’s almost home and he still doesn’t know how to ask Minho to be his boyfriend. Maybe he should start by confessing his feelings.
“Hey, Minho…” Jisung starts, stopping him in the small park in front of his apartment building.
“Yes?” Minho says, now grabbing both Jisung’s hands.
Jisung bites his lip again, amazed by how beautiful Minho looks under the streetlights. He has a few petals on his hair from the flowers his mom already took home with her, and a glint in his eyes that hold too many unshared feelings.
Jisung really hopes they get to share some of them tonight.
“I- I…” the younger one gulps, words getting stuck in his throat. How does one confess his feelings for his ballet teacher?
Just as Jisung decides on at least say something else not to embarrass himself, Minho places a hand on his cheek.
The touch is slightly cold against Jisung’s warm cheek, and it sends a shiver down his spine. Minho takes a step closer, and places his other hand on Jisung’s waist.
The musky smell of bergamot of Minho’s scent cloaks Jisung in an embrace, speeding his heartbeat into a frenzy.
Minho is so close that he can clearly hear the inhale of warm June air into Minho’s lungs, exhaling it even more warmly and hitting Jisung’s face.
Jisung laces his hands on Minho’s nape, where the overgrown hair tingles his fingers. He sees Minho’s eyes twinkle, slowly gaining more and more stars in them.
“Can I kiss you?” Minho whispers, only for them to hear.
Instead of answering with words, Jisung closes the remaining distance, pressing his lips into Minho’s.
The taste of Minho is sweeter than anything Jisung has ever savored before. A mix of the soda they had with dinner, a hint of mint and something so inherently Minho.
Their lips dance softly for hundreds of seconds, to the point Jisung can only taste Minho. Only hear their clash of lips and the beat of their hearts, only feel Minho’s hands on him. Only smell their combined fragrances, only see the starts behind his closed eyes.
Only Minho, Minho, Minho.
When they part it feels like they’re alone in the universe, just surrounding each other with their presence and nothing else.
Jisung sighs softly, pressing his forehead against Minho’s. He indulges in kissing the mole on the tip of Minho’s nose before he speaks.
“I like you so much, Minho,” the younger says, now looking at Minho’s eyes again. “And I know you’re my teacher but… I just like you so much.”
Minho caresses Jisung’s cheek, pecking him softly on the lips again. “I like you so much too, Jisung,” he laughs, airy. “You have no idea.”
Jisung giggles softly. “After this kiss? I think I do have a slight idea.”
They kiss again, this time a little bit deeper, warmer. In no rush for anything, just trying to convey their feelings in the sweetest game of lips Jisung has ever been part of.
“Well,” Minho says, now moving both his hands to interlace them with Jisung’s. “Now that I’m officially on vacation, would you like to go on a date with me? As my boyfriend?”
Jisung gasps loudly, which prompts Minho to giggle, and Jisung follows behind. Soon they’re a mess of laughter, and luckily it’s late enough that nobody’s around to judge them too much.
The giggles are exchanged for an embrace, and Jisung takes the opportunity to answer without having to show his blushing face.
“I’d love to go on a date with you, but only if you come as my boyfriend too.”
That sends them into another set of giggles, in between ‘you’re so silly’ and ‘but you like me anyways’.
“It feels insane knowing that you like me back,” Jisung sighs, caressing his belly to calm down from all the laughter.
“I mean, you better believe it,” Minho says, leaving a small peck on Jisung’s cheek. “Because I’ve liked you since the moment you stepped on my class.”
The younger one’s eyes open up like saucers. “Are you serious?”
Minho giggles again, going back and forth on his feet. “Yeah, I was immediately charmed by how shy you were and how cute you looked with your ballet tights and pink shoes.”
“Ugh, shut up,” Jisung mumbles, hiding his face behind his hands. “I was so shocked by you that I couldn’t even talk properly.”
Minho takes the hands away from Jisung’s face, and the younger one blushes even more at the fond gaze Minho is looking at him with.
“Doesn’t matter, I liked everything about you so much that I’ve only been able to think about you since then.”
Jisung’s heart skips a beat at the admission. One thing is Jisung not being able to stop thinking about Minho since they met, and another thing is Minho going through the same. He feels like his face is burning hotter than the summer sun.
“Stop, you can’t just say that and expect me not to keep kissing you until my lips fall off.”
“Well, Han Jisung,” Minho’s voice drops an octave, getting closer to Jisung again. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he smirks, now both his hands on Jisung’s waist. “But I wouldn’t mind to keep kissing you for a while.”
And, being truthful to his words, they do keep kissing for a long time. For so long that Jisung forgets what time it is, and it gets chill enough to even start enjoying the nighttime breeze.
But Jisung still feels warm. Warm in his body and his mind, where Minho presses his lips and his words touch his heart. Warm when they part for the night with a last peck on the lips, but they still crush each other into the biggest hug.
They agree on meeting the next day for coffee and a walk on the biggest park in the city, so they can both unwind from the stress of their daily lives.
When Jisung lies down on his bed after taking a shower and brushing his teeth, he’s flooded with memories of the whole day.
He thinks of how wonderful it felt to be on stage, even if a hundred eyes were on him the whole time. To share all of that with his classmates, and then celebrate it with them and Minho as well.
Jisung finally feels like a real dancer now, even if he’s only a beginner. Even if he started as an adult, he can consider himself a ballerino now, and he will keep being one for a long, long time. His inner child is shaking with glee.
And then he thinks about Minho, who is his boyfriend now, and who he sees himself falling in love with very soon, if he hasn’t already.
Jisung thinks of the kiss they shared just minutes ago, and he cannot even begin to comprehend how a mere touch of lips could make him feel a thousand things at the same time.
But he loves the feeling so much it hurts. So much that he thanks the Universe for leading him to the day he stepped his foot on Lee Minho’s school of dance.
Jisung really hopes he gets to dance with Minho’s lips for the rest of his life.