kibum tilts his head as he regards the young dancer. this denial of keeping up with his talent is a lie. it has to be because maria said she had seen the choreography and it was outstanding. she doesn’t give compliments if she doesn’t mean them, even less if she knows all that work wouldn’t suit him in the slightest. to make a choreography, surely the dancer should have seen something, didn’t he? and yet, here he is, lying to him straight in the face. how interesting.
❝ sounds fair, ❞ he expresses, eyes bright with a sort of unabashed curiosity. ❝ if it sucks, then maybe i will be able to convince them about bringing a piano to the scenario. ❞ it’s a well-aimed jab, enough amount of teasing and viciousness tangled to a sweet tone of innocence. regardless, he does as the other says. he moves to the corner of the studio, back to the wall, assuming that the younger male will show him first what he has rather than making him see while teaching him.
❝ oh– i thought you were a show-don’t-tell-kind of guy, ❞ kibum moves to stand a meter from the younger male, sharp eyes looking at him through the mirror. ❝ should i take it you did like the song? ❞ he’s interested. someone with those honed abilities people in the industry talked about carried some merit after all. the singer does wonder too how much of it he has actually gotten, if they will see eye-to-eye, like people assume it always happens to people who talk through music.
❝ you thought of the camera angles as well? ❞ now he is impressed. that’s mostly something that is produced after the choreography is mastered. a heated look here, a pose there, a perfect stroll towards the camera, and it’s done. ❝ fine, pretty boy, show me what you’ve got. but i will watch first, will make questions then, and once that’s cleared, i will follow into your rhythm. ❞
it’s bad. that he is giving orders and stepping back to observe. it means he is intrigued, means that his curiosity is not just curiosity anymore. but then, could things have been different? the young dancer is his type. gorgeous mouth, long lashes defining sparkling bright eyes, sweet features that give him a feminine air and it contrasts so well with broad shoulders and a beautiful physique. but then, he did promise he would behave for this album. he’s reaching a different height now, he’s meant to ride off the recklessness of youth, step down and let people into his true self.
it is a bunch of marketing bullshit if you ask him, but this is the path he chose. so he keeps his bad intentions and hands to himself and limits to watch what the mirror tells him about the other’s creation. attentive eyes follow fluid motions of hands that express so much on their own. he repairs on the rolling of hips, on the suggestive gestures of a body that was born to dance. some part of him is hit with a strike of inferiority he hasn’t felt in years, if ever and he hates it. hates him.
but he keeps watching, enraptured; all too knowing that this little young man is reaching to him without even meaning to. it should be scary, that he can feel such a pull for someone who is this talented. but this act of attraction only ends up in one way and he doesn’t want to break another pretty thing until his heart bleeds. ❝ it’s good, ❞ he admits, the corners of his lips twitching in an honest smile that hurts. ❝ i think it’s clear to me so, will give it a go. ❞
he does that and does not think of much else. focuses on the meaning, lets go of his armor for a moment, cuts the air in a perfect mimic of what the dancer has done. but it lacks one thing.
–{ ° } it’s not that Taemin hasn’t studied the singer, it’s that Taemin doesn’t keep up well with idol appearances and releases.. he doesn’t find himself captured by any artist long enough to not switch the channel. when hired to coach an idol, though, Taemin spends his lounging time catching up on their tastes, styles, and career in order to best suit the work to them. because even as much as he complains about his overtime at the studio, he’d never set someone with passion up to fail. everything had to be impeccable. this is why each move of this choreography tailors to the rhythm of the song provided and the way Kibum’s sharp eyes always glance to the camera, even in those slower songs- his gaze is piercing, and Taemin would say the kid’s got some talent. maybe not to his face, though.
“ tch . ” the dancer sucks in a breath through his teeth, lips quirked in a smile, “ no piano , then . ” Kibum knows the work he’s written won’t ‘suck’, so the mild insult doesn’t quarrel anything within him enough to respond any further. it’s easy to meet the man’s eye contact through the mirror- and though he’s being given a firm staredown, Taemin replies with a giddy smile that compliments the messy-on-purpose black hair atop his head, seemingly no threat. he’ll confront this all as if he isn’t one, but there’s a subtle way in which he holds his dominance that isn’t.. necessarily on purpose.
“ it’s a good song -- yeah , better than some I’ve heard . I really like a song that makes me wanna dance . ” there’s a playful wink, because obviously that’s his answer.. he’s a dancer. “ sure , yeah , of course . ” he thinks about.. everything that goes into production. with dance, it’s not just his hobby, it’s something he’s poured his life into and has excelled at only because of that. his work is only ever to be perfect.
when given the go-ahead, Taemin presses the play button on the phone screen, doing a little run-walk to get centered on the hardwood. the way he moves seemingly brings the drop in bass and little nuances in the rhythm to life, each one accentuated with an apt movement- a fluid roll of his body, a flick of the wrist, a look forward from under dark bangs. there are a few technically difficult moves in the piece ( a pencil turn here , a hint of floorwork and a switchup of the center of balance there ) but nothing too over the edge.
the focus he’s created is on the way the music affects the one dancing, translating the mood of the song into a way the audience can better understand- he knows the choreography will look good on Kibum and please his fans. when Taemin’s done, he holds that last pose, arms crossed loosely, one hand up by his shoulder with relaxed fingers, the back of his index finger lightly touching the curve of his jaw.
with a bite to his lip, Taemin relaxes and shakes both hands out, getting the jitters out of his system to loosen up his shoulders. the dancer makes eye contact again, bowing his head just slightly to say thank you, but by the time he’s looking back up, he catches the flicker of something in the other’s gaze that has him puzzled for a split second. he shakes it off with an excuse of drinking a healthy gulp of water, taking in the look of the boy when he’s not paying him attention. he’s got the body of an idol, so it’s nothing new-- his type, of course- but his hair and the curve of his jaw, the high cheekbones and fox-like eyes have his eyes hesitating from looking away even as Kibum meets eye contact.
clearing his throat, Taemin smiles off in another direction, resuming work. while he’s teaching, he’s nothing but professional, sticking to helping the boy get the moves just right. it’s only when they’re taking a break that he’s slouching against the mirror, sitting with legs parted and stretched straight out on the ground that he loses that professional aura, watching the water swirl in the bottle before piping up,
“ so besides all this idol stuff , what d’you like to do ? ”