#featxuhao

you and minho fought often, so often that it had become second nature to you. being stuck in the same group—being roommates— only made it worse. it was constant, and frankly suffocating.

“no, I'm serious,” he said, taking a step closer, “we practiced that turn a hundred times.”

“and I did it right a hundred times,” you shot back. 

“one mistake doesn’t mean you get to tear me apart! besides, don't act like you didn't use the wrong foot while switching into the diagonal step.”

minho scoffed, folding his arms— staring at you like you slapped him.

“wrong foot?” he repeated. “i made up for your late count.”

you scoffed—did he think you were a joke? “made up for your late count?” 

was he coming up with excuses, or did he genuinely believe that messing up the step counted as helping? 

“you didn’t make up for anything. you panicked.” you snapped back, stabbing your finger into his chest. 

“you rushed and threw off my balance.”

“shit, so now it's my fault you couldn’t land it?” he pressed, stepping even closer, eyes darkening—the air between you felt thicker.

"I would've landed it if you hadn’t yanked me early!” you retaliated, your chest rising and falling, frustration taking over.

minho stepped closer with a glower, eyes narrowing—as if he was daring you to push further. 

“we failed because you froze.” he said, voice low and sharp.

“no,” you responded quickly, bitterly laughing. “we failed because you don't know how to dance with someone—only over them.”

for a moment, he looked stunned.

“...what did you just say?”

“i said,” you took a deep breath before continuing. 

“you don't like to dance with people,” you repeated, not backing down. “you dance like you're alone, and everyone else just has to keep up or get dragged.”

silence rung out between you.

minho’s stare hardened, disbelief turning into something colder— ready to fight back— until a hand gripped his shoulder, trying to hold him back, that hand belonging to felix. 

“can you guys please relax?” he huffed, a concerned look on his face. “you both made mistakes—so stop fighting. it's not going to change the fact that we failed because of you two.”

minho's jaw clenched, but felix's grip kept him from lunging forward. you were staring at minho half in disbelief and half in frustration. a part of you wanted to provoke him, but the other was telling you to drop it. 

felix shook his head, letting go of minho. “seriously guys, what's done is done. you two messed up your duet, and we all faced the consequences. yelling at each other won't fix shit.”

minho’s glare snapped towards you, but he didn't argue.

before you two killed each other, rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway. hyunjin slowed to a stop in front of you both, eyes wide and grinning.

“guys,” he said, catching his breath. “we’re getting a second chance!”

both you and minho froze. 

“...second chance?” felix asked, confused.

hyunjin nodded, voice stable now. “yeah, the professor knows the mess with your duet affected the rest of us, buuuut… he's giving us one more shot. basically—fix your part, or the whole group suffers.” his ecstatic tone when he first arrived shifting into something more serious.

minho blinked, mouth open slightly. “fix it…? together?”

“yes,” hyunjin stared at him, exhaling like he couldn't believe he was saying it. “how else are you supposed to perform a duet? anyways, this means you actually have to cooperate. no more screaming in hallways, holding grudges, and for god’s sake stop flirting in front of us!”

“what? okay, i”m going to stop you there,” you quickly cut off hyunjin. “in what world would I ever flirt with that narcissist?”

minho’s gaze flicked to you for a second—clenching his fists like he was going to defend himself, until hyunjin's voice stopped him.

“sure, whatever— i don't care if it's flirting or fighting. you guys need to put aside your pride for once and make sure we dont fuck this up okay?” his voice firm—making sure he got his point through your heads.

“so what, are we supposed to just pretend that didn't happen?” minho responded, getting worked up all over again. 

felix exhaled loudly as he stepped forward—preparing to step in if something happened. “no.” he paused before looking directly at both you and minho, “you’re supposed to shut up and not make it worse.”  

“yeah, you guys can do whatever you want after we pass.” hyunjin leaned onto the wall, agreeing with felix.  

“seriously, how do you guys argue this much? does it not get tiring?” felix's eyes flicked between the two of you, genuine confusion painting his face.

“minho’s ego is clearly too high to accept that I'm just as good of a dancer as he is—so he constantly nitpicks every little thing I do. It's like he's obsessed with me or something.” you responded flatly, maintaining eye contact with minho.

“me?” he scoffed, a humourless laugh slipping out, “obsessed with you? you wish.” 

felix ran a hand down his face, exhaustion coloring his voice. “you know what? forget I even asked.” he glanced at hyunjin, who shrugged helplessly. 

“just— go home and work things out, okay? we can't risk losing our last chance because you two can't stand being in the same room for five minutes.” 

minho grabbed his bag from the corner, already heading towards the door. “fine, whatever.”

you followed him out, the door slamming shut behind you. the campus was quieter now, most people gone for the night. the only things you could hear were a few voices in the distance and the footsteps of both you and minho.

the walk back to the dorms was suffocating. minho walked a few steps ahead, with his hands shoved in his pocket—you kept your distance, staring at the pavement—wondering how you would try and work with him.

by the time you reached the building, your chest felt heavy—you couldn't tell if it was anxiety or anger. minho pushed through the entrance without looking back, and you caught the door before it could shut in your face.

“seriously?” you muttered.

he didn't respond. didn't even flinch.

up the stairs, down the hall, and finally—your shared dorm room. minho unlocked the door and stepped inside first, tossing his bag onto the couch like he’d already forgotten you existed.

you closed the door behind you— a little harder than necessary, and stood there for a moment, staring at him before you sat on the couch, keeping your distance.

“so what now?” you asked, breaking the silence. “we just pretend that didn't happen?”

minho turned slowly, leaning against the arm of the couch. “what do you want me to say?”

“i don't know—maybe acknowledge the fact that you were being unreasonable?” you said, frustration bleeding into your voice.  

“unreasonable?” he let out a breathless chuckle and shook his head, “youre the one who can't take criticism.”

you let out a forced laugh before retaliating, “that's rich coming from you.” minhos gaze dropped onto your crossed arms, “someone seriously needs to put you in your place.” 

minho's mouth opened, then closed. his eyebrows shot up, and for a second, he just stared at you—like he couldn't quite process what you just said.

“i—what?” his voice came out slightly higher than usual, and you watched as his ears turned pink. “put me in my—are you serious right now?”

you shrugged, trying to keep your expression neutral. “yeah. someone really should.”

he let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “that's—you can't just say shit like that.”

“why not? it's true.”

minho’s gaze snapped back to yours, something flickering in his eyes that you couldn't quite read. he opened his mouth like he was gonna argue, but no words came out. 

“you’re unbelievable,” he whispered, but his voice had lost its bitterness.

“why?” you tilted your head, a small grin appearing on your face. “did I finally find a way to shut you up?”

“shut up,” he said, but there was no anger behind it—just embarrassment he was very desperate to hide. he cleared his throat— trying to avoid making eye contact with you. “it's getting late…can we just— can we figure out the choreography tomorrow? Please?” 

you glanced at the time on your phone. he wasn't wrong—it was late—you were both exhausted from the performance and the argument that followed. 

“fine.” you said, uncrossing your arms. “but you’re actually going to work with me this time, not against me.”

“i always work with you,” minho protested weakly, finally meeting your eyes again. 

“sure you do.” you stood up from the couch, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it, "that's why we failed today.”

he winced slightly at that, and you almost felt bad for bringing it up. 

almost.

the silence that followed felt heavier than before. minho looked away, jaw working like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. 

“i’m going to bed,” you said, finally breaking the tension. you couldn't do this anymore tonight—the arguing, the back and forth. you were exhausted.

“yeah,” minho said quietly, still not looking at you, “okay.”

you turned towards your room, taking a couple steps, but stopped and hesitated for just a second. part of you wanted to say something else— maybe apologize for your comment, but you were too tired to deal with anything. 

“we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” you added, softer this time. 

minho’s eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly, and he nodded, “yeah. tomorrow.” 

you gave him one last look before heading into your room and closing the door behind you. the moment you were alone, you dropped your bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

tomorrow. 

you’d fix everything tomorrow.

you just hoped it would actually be that simple.   

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the next morning came too fast.

you woke up to sunlight shining through the blinds and the muffled sound of movement in the space outside your room. for a moment you just laid there— replaying last night in your head, you regretted a lot of things.

you groaned, dragging a pillow over your face—ready to scream, until a sharp knock on your door jolted you upright. 

“are you up?” minho's voice came through, flat and cautious.

“yeah,” you called back, shoving the pillow aside and swinging your legs off the bed. “i’ll be out soon.” 

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the practice room felt different.

emptier.

colder.

felix and hyunjin were already there when you arrived. felix was sitting against the wall—earbuds in, eyes closed like he was mentally preparing himself for whatever chaos would unfold. hyunjin was sitting next to him, scrolling on his phone—but the way he kept glancing at the door told you he’d been waiting.

“morning,” you greeted them, dropping your bag by the wall—beginning to stretch.  

felix pulled out one earbud. “hey.”

hyunjin straightened up, rolling his shoulders back. “okay so—are we going to do this, or are you two going to need another minute to… i don't know, get it out of your system first?”

“we’re fine,” you responded quickly.

“sure you are.” hyunjin didn't sound very convinced.

minho walked past you, already pulling his arm across his chest to stretch. “let’s just start. the sooner we fix this, the sooner we're done.”

you shot him a look. “wow. how motivating.”

"i wasn't trying to motivate you,” he muttered, not even looking at you. “just being realistic.”

“right.” you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to say something that would start another argument.

not today.

felix stood up and sighed loudly. “okay, let's go over the group part first—just to make sure we’re all on the same page, then you two can work on the duet.”

you and minho nodded at the same exact time.

hyunjin let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “you guys are so weird.”

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you thought everything was going well. the counts were clean, the transitions smooth, and for once you weren't second-guessing every movement.

then minho opened his mouth.

“your footwork’s sloppy.”

you stopped turning to face him. “yeah? well your back isn’t straight.”

“it doesn’t need to be straight for this step, dumbass,” he shot back, crossing his arms 

“sure,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “but you should practice it anyway to make sure you don’t fuck it up a second time.”

minho's eyes widened for just a second before his expression hardened. he took a step towards you, voice dropping. 

“fuck it up? are you seriously going to stand there and act like yesterday wasn't on you?”

“it wasnt—”

“yes it was,” he cut you off jaw tight. “stop trying to rewrite what happened just because you don't want to admit it.”

your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. you lowered your voice, leaning in just enough so that he could hear every word. “keep talking like that and I’ll make sure your footwork isn’t the only thing that’s sloppy by the end of the hour.”

minho blinked. his mouth opened slightly, then closed—staring at you, clearly caught off guard.

“yeah?” he finally managed, voice rougher than before.

hyunjin groaned loudly from across the room. “could you guys whisper any louder? i was just starting to hear my own fucking counts.”

felix rubbed his temples, as if a headache was forming. “i think we should just stop for today—“

“what? no," minho said quickly, breaking eye contact with you. “i can’t leave yet. i’ve got so much to go over.” 

hyunjin and felix glanced at each other momentarily, before hyunjin stepped forward.

“perfect! you and minho can do whatever it is that you need to do and felix and i can relax. i’m sure you two wouldn’t understand, but carrying a group project on your back isn’t very easy,” 

hyunjin slung his bag over his shoulder, turning towards the both of you to give you a final look, “make sure to work on your duet sections before you have any extra fun.”

hyunjin and felix didn't waste any time. they headed for the door, not even bothering to glance back. you didn't think much of it—not until the door swung shut behind them.

then you heard it.

the lock.

a soft, deliberate click.

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i really hope u guys enjoy it so far because this genuinely took years off my lifespan while writing it..

lmk in the comments if you would like to be added to the taglist for chapter 2 !!

taglist: @minho4luv @daises-and-domming @gabimmat @mxmx09

read chapter two here.

“hey im just testing the waters,” he said playfully, letting out a soft chuckle. “ i just wanted to see what you need to work on.”

after working through a few of the topics you actually needed help with, you stretched your arms above your head and sighed, your shirt riding up just slightly. you caught jeongin’s eyes flick down for a split second before he looked away.

a smug smile curved onto your lips. you’d definitely noticed. 

“yeah, i need a break. if i see another number, my brain will melt–then i'll start blaming you for my mistakes.” 

jeongin laughed, moving a little closer. “is that so? i thought you liked the attention.”

you tilted your head, strengthening your gaze as you held eye contact with him. “ maybe i do. but you're clearly enjoying it.”

jeongin swallowed, clearly flustered, and ran his hand through his hair. “i–uh, maybe i should get us something to drink.” he says while getting up.

“or,” you gently pushed him back down while sitting onto his lap, “i can give you a little reward for tutoring me.” 

his breath hitched as you shifted against him, the subtle grind drawing a quiet whimper from his lips. his cock throbbed beneath you–already fully hard, and heat pooling deep inside the both of you, aching for more contact. you began to move with more haste–your hips rolling in rougher circles while your mouth pressed against his.

jeongin trembled under your touch, completely powerless to suppress the way his body responded–his length twitching eagerly every time friction built between you two–he was losing control fast.

his breath came in ragged pants as your lips parted. he looked at you with a pleading gaze, his eyes dark with desperation and desire. his voice was filled with need as he uttered one word:

“please.”

you looked at him with lust in your eyes as you slightly grinned. “please what?”

the way you looked at him–lips curled in a teasing smile, eyes heavy with hunger–could've made him cum right then and there. his chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding against his ribs as he watched your expression shift from playful to something far more dangerous.

“please touch me.” he whined, trying to chase any hint of friction.

taking his words into consideration, you slid off his lap and started unzipping his pants. “...shit,” you muttered under your breath– stripping him and yourself of your clothes, “if you look at me like that i just might have to.” 

you slid back onto his lap and grinded your clit into his erection– creating a bigger reaction out of him. he moaned out loud and threw his head back–chanting your name. 

“fuck, if you keep doing this– im gonna cum without me ever getting to be inside you.” 

you lifted yourself up and aligned his dick with your hole–slowly sinking into him. he sunk his head into your shoulder and you let out a whimper as you felt his length inside you–embracing his lips while he moaned into your mouth–thrusting slowly into you.

he was coming undone–and so were you. you both knew you weren't going to last much longer. 

the way his cock stretched you inside? perfect. every inch sank in like it was meant to be there, and the quiet whimpers that escaped his throat only tightened your core more.

you felt it when he got close– the way his body locked up beneath you–his hands, trembling, gripping your thigh.

and all of the sudden.

a sharp cry escaped from jeongin’s chest.

his back arched violently when release struck him– his cum leaking out of you as you continued to ride him, until you came too– holding him tightly while panting.

“wow.” jeongin says, staying in the same position.

you chuckle softly. “wow indeed.”

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"they're already gone," you muttered, leaning back against the mirror. "probably halfway across campus by now."

minho turned to face you, "so what, we're just supposed to stay here until someone lets us out?"

"looks like it." you shrugged.

being stuck in here with him, alone, after everything that just happened—

no. you weren't going to think about that.

"whatever," minho said, dropping his bag in the corner. "let's just... practice. that's what we're here for anyway."

you pushed off the mirror. "fine."

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the first few minutes were fine.

you ran through the opening sequence twice, then moved into the transition that led into the duet. minho counted you in, and for a few minutes, it actually felt normal.

then you missed a beat.

minho stopped mid-step. "you were late on the count."

you exhaled. "i know."

"then do it right."

"i'm trying," you snapped, resetting your position. "just give me a second."

"we don't have a second," he shot back. "we have one chance to fix this, and you're already—"

"already what?" you cut him off, turning to face him. "messing up? making mistakes? because last time i checked, you're not perfect either."

minho's jaw clenched. "i never said i was."

"you don't have to," you said, taking a step closer. "you act like it. like everyone else is the problem except you."

"that's not—" he stopped himself, shaking his head. "you know what? forget it. let's just run it again."

"no." you crossed your arms. "i'm not doing this if you're going to keep acting like i'm the only one who needs to get it together."

"i'm not acting like anything," minho said, voice rising slightly. "i'm trying to make sure we don't fail again, but apparently you'd rather argue than actually fix the problem."

"the problem," you repeated. "the problem is that you can't admit when you're wrong. you'd rather blame me for everything than take any responsibility."

minho stepped closer. "i take responsibility when it's actually my fault. yesterday? that was on you."

"bullshit."

"it's not—"

"yes it is!" you interrupted. "you're so busy trying to control everything that you don't even realize when you're the one throwing everything off!"

"i don't control—" he stopped, clearly trying to keep his composure. "you know what? i'm done with this."

"done with what? done with me calling you out?"

"done with you acting like you're some victim when you're just as much of a problem as i am!"

you stared at him, chest rising and falling, every nerve in your body on edge. "fuck you."

"yeah?" minho's voice dropped. 

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

you stopped breathing for a second.

neither of you moved. 

"what did you just say?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

minho's eyes darkened, but you caught the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. "you heard me."

you should've walked away, but you didn't.

instead, you grabbed the front of his shirt. 

"say it again."

minho's hands came up to grip your wrists, but the hold was weaker than you expected—almost like he wasn't sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you closer. "you want me to?"

"i want you to stop being a coward."

his grip tightened slightly, but his voice came out quieter than before. "i'm not the coward here."

"then prove it."

you pulled him forward and kissed him—hard, desperate, angry. it wasn't soft or careful. it was all teeth and frustration. minho kissed back. he let you control him, gasping when your fingers tangled in his hair and pulled.

"i hate you," you muttered against his mouth.

"good," he breathed, voice shaking. "i hate you too."

you pushed him backward until his shoulders hit the mirror, he inhaled sharply. his eyes were wide now, and for once he wasn't trying to fight back.

"remember what i said?" you asked, fingers working at the hem of his shirt. "about someone needing to put you in your place?"

minho's breath hitched, his ears going pink

 "you—"

"guess i'm that someone."

"yeah." he said, gasping when you pulled his shirt over his head—chest already flushed.

his hands reached for your shirt, tugging it off, but he lacked his usual confidence. there was an urgency to it, but his hands hesitated.

"this doesn't change anything," you said, hands tracing down his chest.

"i know," minho replied, voice unsteady. his hands moved to your waist, but they just hovered there, waiting. "still think you're the worst."

"the feeling's mutual."

you both stripped off your clothes, and you could see how flushed and needy minho looked. he was getting more and more impatient, hips trying to grind against you, but you stopped him with a hand on his hip.

"you're—" he started, voice breaking when your hand slid lower.

"what?" 

"i'm what?"

"—so fucking annoying," he finished, but it came out as more of a whimper than anything else. his fingers dug into your hips, like he needed something to hold onto.

his hips twitched upward in a desperate attempt for friction—but you pulled back just enough to deny him. his hands shot up to grip your waist, fingers pressing hard into your skin as if he wanted to force you down onto him.

"tell me to stop," you said against his neck, biting down. he groaned, head tilting back, completely exposed.

minho's mouth opened, but no words came out. his hands pulled you closer.

"come on," you pressed. "tell me to stop and i will."

"i—" he tried, voice breaking. "please—"

"please what? please stop?"

"no," he breathed out quickly, panicked. "no—please don't—"

"don't what?"

"don't stop," he finally managed, voice quiet.

"i—" he cut off with a sharp breath when you shifted against him. "fuck—please—"

"please what?"

minho's eyes met yours. "just—don't stop."

you smirked, rolling your hips just enough to feel him pulse beneath you. it wasn't enough to give him what he wanted. his grip tightened and you leaned down, catching his lips in a deep, biting kiss, swallowing his groan as you finally—lowered yourself onto him, slow and torturous.

you rocked against him in lazy, maddening strokes, refusing to give him any real relief. you pulled back when he started chasing more, grinding down just to feel him jerk beneath you with a choked-off sound.

“you’re so—hah—you’re so fucking evil,” he gasped, voiced wrecked.

"still think you're better than me?" 

he opened his mouth, and you started grinding against him—whatever words he had turned into a broken moan. his head fell back against the mirror with a soft thud, eyes closing.

"that's what i thought."

"fuck—" minho’s voice barely above a whisper. "you're—"

"i'm what?"

"—insufferable," he managed, sounding desperate instead of insulting.

you laughed softly. "yeah? then why are you so—"

before you could finish, minho's hand shot up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. it caught you off guard. his teeth caught your bottom lip hard enough to sting.

"shut up," he muttered against your mouth, and this time there was a bite to it. “don't act like you're winning."

"i'm not acting like anything. i am winning."

"you're really not," he shot back, but his voice wavered. "you're just—you think you're so—"

you clenched around him, tightening perfectly, and whatever comment he had died in his throat—replaced by a broken moan that echoed through the practice room.

"what was that?" you asked, grinning. "i didn't quite catch it."

you kissed him again, swallowing the sound he made.

"god, you're loud," you muttered against his mouth.

minho tried to bite back the next sound, his hand flying up to cover his mouth, but you caught his wrist and pinned it against the mirror above his head.

"don't," you said firmly. 

"i want to hear you."

his eyes widened, but he didn't fight it. he moaned, loud and unrestrained.

minho was falling apart beneath you—flushed and trembling.

his usual sharp tongue was gone—it was replaced with desperate pleas, fingers gripping your hips.

you didn’t give him time to recover. rolling your hips in smooth, deep strokes. each movement dragged another broken sound from his lips. his breaths came in ragged pants, his hips lifting to meet yours.

"fuck—" the word tore out of him, raw and desperate. minho’s breath stuttered—and then you twisted your hips, angling yourself just right, and that was all it took.

he came with a shattered groan, his back arching off the mirror. the feeling of him pulsing inside you tipped you over the edge, your own climax hitting hard, leaving you shuddering against him.

you both just sat there, trying to catch your breath.

reality came back slowly. you were still in the practice room. still locked inside. still had a performance to fix.

and you'd just had sex with the person you couldn't stand.

"shit," minho muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. he wasn't looking at you.

"yeah," you agreed quietly, pulling your shirt back on. "shit."

silence.

"we don't...have to talk about this," minho said finally, reaching for his own clothes. "this was just—"

"a mistake," you finished. "i know."

he glanced at you, something unreadable in his expression. "right. a mistake."

you nodded, even though you didn’t really mean it. "we should just focus on the performance."

"agreed."

you both got dressed in silence, avoiding eye contact. by the time you heard footsteps in the hallway, you were on opposite sides of the room.

the lock clicked.

the door swung open.

felix poked his head in. "so... are you guys dead? or did you actually manage to work things out?"

"we're fine," you said quickly. 

felix's eyes narrowed suspiciously, looking between you and minho. "...okay. if you say so."

hyunjin appeared behind him, grinning. 

"told you they just needed some alone time."

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the walk back to the dorm was worse than yesterday.

at least yesterday, you'd had anger to fall back on. now there was just... nothing. uncomfortable silence.

minho walked beside you this time, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed ahead. you kept your gaze on the ground.

what the hell were you thinking?

you weren’t. that was the problem.

by the time you reached your room, the tension was suffocating. minho unlocked the door and you both stepped inside.

"i'm gonna shower," he said, not waiting for a response before disappearing into the bathroom.

you collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. 

this was a mess.

a complete and total mess.

but a part of you didn't regret doing it.

minho finally came out, hair damp and wearing sweatpants, he barely glanced at you. "the bathroom's free."

"thanks," you mumbled, grabbing your stuff and heading in.

you stood under the water longer than necessary, trying to wash away the feeling of his hands on your skin, his mouth on yours—

no. stop.

this was a one-time thing. a mistake. it wouldn't happen again.

when you emerged, minho was already in his room, door closed. you could see the light under the gap at the bottom.

you went to your own room, shutting the door behind you and climbing into bed. 

you barely slept.

the next morning, you avoided each other

minho was already up when you left your room, making coffee in the small kitchen area. he didn't say good morning. you didn't either.

you grabbed a granola bar and your bag, headed for the door.

"we have practice at two," minho said to your back.

"i know."

"just making sure."

you left without another word.

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the practice room felt different today.

felix and hyunjin were already there, stretching and talking quietly. they looked up when you and minho walked in—separetly.

"morning," felix said carefully.

"hey," you replied, dropping your bag and starting to stretch.

minho did the same on the other side of the room.

hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "okay, so we're doing the silent treatment thing today?"

"we're fine," minho said flatly.

"sure you are."

felix shot hyunjin a look that clearly said drop it, and thankfully, he did.

"let's just run through everything," felix suggested. "from the top."

you all got into position.

the group section went smoothly—surprisingly so. everyone hit their marks, the timing was clean, and for once, there were no arguments.

then came the duet.

you and minho stood across from each other, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t read his expression—recognition, maybe. or regret.

the music started.

you moved through the choreography, you knew the steps by heart. minho's hand found yours for the first turn.

it felt too similar.

but then you were chest to chest for the partnering section, his hands on your waist to lift you—and there it was again.

focus.

you landed the turn this time. minho transitioned smoothly into the next sequence. everything was... working.

"nice!" hyunjin called out when you finished. "see? you guys can actually do it when you're not trying to kill each other."

felix nodded, looking relieved. "let's run it one more time, then we can call it a day."

you and minho reset.

the second run was even better than the first. cleaner. more confident. by the end, you were breathing hard, both looking satisfied.

"okay, i'm less worried now," felix said, grabbing his water bottle. "you guys actually look like you know what you're doing."

"we always knew what we were doing," minho muttered.

"could've fooled me," hyunjin shot back with a grin.

you couldn't help the small smile that slipped out.

minho caught it and looked away quickly.

"alright, i think we're good for today," felix said, standing up and stretching. "same time tomorrow?"

"yeah," you agreed.

hyunjin and felix grabbed their stuff and headed out, leaving you and minho alone again.

you started packing up your things, watching every move he made.

"that was good today," minho said suddenly.

you looked up, surprised. "yeah. it was."

he nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "we should keep it up."

"mhm."

another pause.

"look," minho started, then stopped, like he didn't know what to say. "about yesterday—"

"it's fine," you cut him off. "we don't have to talk about it."

"i just—" he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "i don't want things to be weird."

"It’s not weird," you lied.

minho raised an eyebrow, but he didn't push it. 

"okay. good."

"good."

you both stood there for another second.

"we should go," you finally said.

"yeah."

the walk back was quieter than yesterday, but less tense. you snuck glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking. once, you caught him doing the same.

maybe you could both just— move past it. focus on the performance. pretend it never happened.

but deep down, you knew it wasn't that simple.

it never was with him.

read chapter three here.

taglist: @minho4luv @daises-and-domming @gabimmat @mxmx09 @genders-waterfall @st4rlog @radiantstarz @scarlettuce-lettuce @mxmx09 @probably-not-a-camboy @lunastarjay

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leaving early had become his new routine.

minho would leave before his alarm even went off, get back late, and even wait in the stairwell until he heard your door close. texting was the only way you’d communicate.

it should've made things easier.

it didn't.

every sound you made, he noticed. your door opening. the shower running. your footsteps in the kitchen. he’d catch himself listening, then get pissed for caring. 

you were just his roommate. his dance partner.

that's it.

he really tried to believe that.

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practice was torture. he had to pretend everything was normal.

before, the tension with you was fun in a weird way—all the arguing and the stares seeing who could push harder. now he just felt like he was going through the motions. you were technically perfect, hitting every beat, but you wouldn't even look at him.

and that pissed him off more than any argument he ever had with you.

he caught himself staring during water breaks. watching you laugh at hyunjin's jokes, how you stretched between runs, your face when you were concentrating.

normal things he'd seen a million times. he couldn't ignore them anymore.

"you good?" felix asked, following his gaze.

minho looked away, "yeah. i'm fine."

"you sure? you seem kinda—"

"i'm fine." minho cut him off, drinking from his water bottle, "just focused."

felix looked skeptical but dropped it.

across the room, hyunjin pulled you aside. minho watched you shake your head, brush it off, and something twisted in his stomach.

nothing was fine.

he paced in his room that night like he'd lost his mind.

this was so stupid. He was being stupid.

you were just—you. annoying and stubborn and way too good at calling him out. that's all you'd ever been. hooking up once didn't change anything. It shouldn't.

but it did.

now when you argued with him, he didn't just want to argue back. he wanted to shut you up by kissing you. when you nailed a move in practice, he didn't just feel competitive—he felt proud.  when you avoided looking at him, it didn't make him angry.

it just hurt.

minho sat on his bed and put his head in his hands.

he liked you.

not in the competitive way he'd been telling himself was normal. actually liked you. wanted to hear what you thought about random shit. wanted to make you laugh on purpose instead of by accident. wanted to wake up next to you and not pretend it never happened.

he'd never felt like this about anyone. he had no idea what to do with it.

he tried talking to you. multiple times.

he'd hear you in the kitchen and force himself to go out there. but then he'd see you and completely blank. he'd say "hey," grab whatever, and run back to his room.

every single time.

he kept telling himself to talk to you, it wasn't that hard.

except it was.

what if you really did want to forget it? what if he said something and made everything worse? what if you looked at him like he was crazy and the rest of the semester became completely unbearable?

he couldn't stop thinking about all the ways it could go wrong.

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the next day, felix and hyunjin worked on their part, then left you and Minho alone to run the duet.

Minho's stomach dropped.

the music started. the opening was fine—his body knew what to do. for a few seconds, everything felt normal.

then the lift.

his hands found your waist automatically. he'd done this a hundred times. 

and then you looked at him.

he froze.

he forgot the next move. forgot the music was still playing. forgot where he was. all he could see was you—how close you were, the look in your eyes, your lips parting.

"you're supposed to turn me," you said quietly.

oh. right.

"right. yeah."

he turned you, set you down carefully. his hands stayed on your waist before he made himself let go and stepped back.

you both finished the routine but minho could still feel where he'd touched you.

this was getting bad.

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when practice ended, felix and Hyunjin left. minho watched you pack up your stuff, watched you head for the door.

he couldn't let you leave again. not without at least trying to—

"you coming?" you asked.

now. just say something.

"in a minute," he said. "i want to run through something."

you stopped. his heart jumped.

please don't go.

"want help?"

yes.

“no, i—"

just fucking say it.

he stopped. took a breath. actually looked at you.

"actually, can we talk?"

you looked surprised, then careful "okay."

you dropped your bag and walked towards him, keeping your distance.

minho stared at the floor. how did he even start this?

"i've been thinking about what you said," he started. "about forgetting it happened."

you tensed.

"yeah?"

"i can't." once he started he couldn't stop, "i tried. i really fucking tried."

"minho—"

"and it's driving me crazy because i don't—i've never...i don't know how to do this. whatever this is."

"i'm not following," you said.

he made himself look at you.

"i can't stop thinking about you. and i don't mean just... that. i mean you."

your face changed but he couldn't read it.

"'the way you call me out on my shit. how you push back. how you—” he stopped, frustrated.

"i like you. and i don't know what to do with that."

silence.

"you... like me?"

"apparently." he laughed. "which is really inconvenient."

"inconvenient?"

"well yeah. you're you. i'm me. we argue about everything."

you almost smiled. "argued. past tense."

"we haven't argued because i've been avoiding you."

"i noticed."

"did you also notice i've been going insane trying to act normal around you?"

you moved closer. sat down next to him. close enough that he could feel the warmth coming off you.

"kind of, yeah."

his chest felt tight.

"for what it's worth," you said, "i haven't been able to forget it either."

wait. what?

"i just thought... you wanted to. so I was trying to respect that." he reluctantly responded.

"i only said that because i thought that was what you wanted."

all the avoiding, all the careful distance—you'd both just been—

"we're idiots," you said.

"yeah." minho let out a sigh. "Fuck."

you both sat there.

"so... what now?" you asked.

minho had no idea."i don't know."

"okay."

"i've never—" he stopped. "i don't really know how to do this."

"do what?"

"any of this." he gestured vaguely between you. "i'm not good at... whatever this is supposed to be."

you were quiet for a second. "yeah. me neither."

"we should probably get out of here," you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. "it's late."

minho got up too, his legs stiff from sitting on the floor. the walk back to the dorm was quiet, but not the bad kind of quiet from before. just... quiet.

when you got back, you both stood in the living room.

"so," you said.

"so."

"i'm gonna go to bed."

"yeah. me too."

you shifted your bag on your shoulder. "i should—yeah. sleep."

"yeah."

silence.

"this is still weird," you said.

"i know."

you nodded, then started toward your room. minho watched you go, his hands shoved in his pockets.

you stopped at your door, hand on the handle. "hey."

he looked up.

"i'm glad you said something."

before he could respond, you slipped into your room and closed the door.

he didn't know what tomorrow would look like. but you weren't avoiding each other anymore.

that was something.

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(readers pov)

every time you closed your eyes, you replayed the conversation.

minho saying he liked you. his voice cracking when he admitted he didn't know what to do with it.

you rolled over and stared at the wall.

this was real. this was actually happening.

and in two days, you'd have to perform. the retake. the one chance to fix everything and not let the entire group fail because you and minho couldn't get your shit together.

except now you had other things to figure out.

you groaned into your pillow. 

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morning came too fast.

you could hear minho moving around in the kitchen when you finally dragged yourself out of bed. for a second, you considered waiting until he left. 

but that's not what you were doing anymore.

you took a breath and opened your door.

minho was making coffee, his back to you. he turned when he heard you come in, and you both just… stood there.

"hey," he said.

"hey."

he looked tired. there were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was messier than usual.

"coffee?" he offered, holding up the pot.

"yeah. Thanks."

he poured you a cup and slid it across the counter. your fingers brushed when you took it, and you both pretended not to notice.

"we have practice in an hour," you said, because someone had to say something.

"yeah." He leaned against the counter. "are you nervous?"

"a little bit. you?"

"a little bit."

the silence wasn't uncomfortable exactly, just new.

"it's gonna be fine," minho said, looking at you. "we still have today to get it perfect."

"i know."

"so don't overthink it."

you drank your coffee, and he drank his. it felt almost normal.

"i should get ready," you said eventually.

"yeah. Me too."

you rinsed your cup in the sink, very aware of how close he was standing. 

when you turned around, he was right there.

"we're good, right?" he asked quietly.

"we're good."

he nodded, looking relieved. "okay. good."

you went back to your room to get dressed, and when you came out, minho was already waiting by the door with both your bags.

the walk to campus felt different. minho walked next to you instead of ahead or behind, and you kept catching him glancing over at you.

"what?" you asked the third time you caught him.

"nothing." but he was almost smiling.

"you're being weird."

"i'm not being weird."

"you keep looking at me."

"so? you're looking at me too."

you didn't really have time to argue.

by the time you got to the building, your hands were sweaty. not just about practice, but about everything. 

about how felix and hyunjin were definitely going to notice.

felix and hyunjin were already in the practice room, stretching and warming up.

"there you are," felix said, looking between you and minho. "everything good?"

"yeah," you both said at the same time.

hyunjin's eyes narrowed. "okay, that was suspicious."

"we're fine," minho said, dropping his bag and starting to stretch.

you joined them on the floor, going through your usual warm-up routine. 

everything felt normal—stretching, complaining about how sore you were,

felix talking about something that happened in his other class. 

"alright," felix said after a while. "let’s run through the whole thing. we have two days, but I want to make sure we're solid."

the music started, and you fell into formation.

the group sections went smoothly. everyone hit their marks, the transitions were clean. then it was time for the duet.

you and minho moved into position, and for a split second, you made eye contact.

the music shifted, and you started dancing.

it was different this time. not just technically good, but real. 

every movement felt connected, like you were actually dancing with him instead of just next to him. when he lifted you, his hands were steady and sure. when you landed, you trusted he'd be there.

the chemistry that had been missing for days was back, but it wasn't the angry, competitive energy from before. it was something else. something that made your chest feel tight and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with the choreography.

you finished the final pose, breathing hard, his hand still holding yours.

the music stopped.

felix and hyunjin were staring.

"holy shit," hyunjin said.

"what did you guys do?" felix asked, looking genuinely confused. "that was—that was actually incredible."

"we just practiced," minho said, letting go of your hand slowly.

"that wasn't just practice," hyunjin said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "that was like— actual chemistry. did you guys have sex or something?"

your face went hot. "what? No—"

"i’m just saying!" hyunjin held up his hands, "the energy is completely different. you guys went from not looking at each other to... that." he gestured at both of you.

"we just talked," you said quickly. "that's all."

"talked." hyunjin repeated.

"yes. talked." minho's ears were red. "can we move on?"

felix looked between you both. "right. yeah. whatever works." he cleared his throat. "just— keep doing it. that was actually really good."

"thank you," you and minho said at the same time, which made hyunjin grin.

"adorable," hyunjin muttered.

"shut up," minho said.

"let’s run it one more time," felix suggested quickly. "just to make sure."

the second run was just as good. by the end of practice, felix looked relieved and hyunjin had mostly stopped making comments.

"okay," felix said as you all packed up. "we’re meeting up at six tomorrow. don’t be late."

you grabbed your stuff as you headed out.

"that was awkward," you muttered once felix and hyunjin were out of sight.

"yeah."

"hyunjin’s never gonna let it go."

the walk back to the dorm was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind from before. you kept stealing glances at each other, and every time your hands brushed, neither of you pulled away.

minho unlocked the door and you both stepped inside. he dropped his bag by the couch, and you did the same. you just stood there in the middle of the living room.

"so," you said.

"so."

he was looking at you in that way again—the way that made your heart race.

"we should probably rest," you sighed, even though you didn't move. "big day tomorrow."

"Yeah." He took a step closer, "Probably should."

but he didn't move toward his room either.

the space between you felt electric. you could feel your pulse in your throat.

"minho—"

he closed the distance, hand cupping your face.

you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to kiss him.

he made a soft sound against your mouth. his hands found your waist, gripping tight.

this wasn't like the first time—all anger and frustration. this was slower, deeper. you backed him up until he hit the wall, and his breath hitched.

"oh," he breathed out when you pulled back slightly.

you kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and felt him shiver. his fingers tightened on your hips.

"wait—" his voice came out shaky. "we shouldn't—"

you pulled back to look at him. his lips were already swollen, face flushed, eyes dark.

"shouldn’t what?"

"do anything the day before a competition," he managed, though his hands hadn't let go of you

you raised an eyebrow. 

"it'll mess with our energy. performance stamina.” he was rambling. "we should probably—"

you kissed him again, swallowing whatever he was about to say. he pressed against the wall, head falling back when you bit down gently on his bottom lip

"you were saying?" you murmured against his mouth.

"i—fuck—" his breath was uneven. "we really shouldn't."

"okay." You pulled back and he whined. "we'll stop."

"yeah. we should stop." but his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer again.

"minho."

"i know, i know." he kissed you anyway, soft and desperate. "just—one more minute."

one minute turned into five, then ten. you were fully making out against the wall now, his hands in your hair, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. Every time one of you tried to pull away, the other would chase after them.

"okay," you said, breathless, finally stepping back. "we really need to stop."

Minho nodded, chest rising and falling rapidly. his hair was a mess from your fingers, lips red and swollen. "yeah. performance tomorrow."

"right. performance."

you both stared at each other.

"i should go to my room," he said, not moving.

"probably a good idea."

he pushed off the wall, took two steps toward his room, then turned back. 

"one more?"

you rolled your eyes but you were already moving toward him. "you have no self-control."

"says the person who pushed me against the wall."

"you liked it."

“didn’t say I didn't,” he pulled you in and kissed you.

when you finally broke apart, he looked dazed. you smiled sheepishly at the look on his face.

"you good there?"

"shut up," he muttered. "okay. I'm actually going now."

"sure you are."

"i am!" he backed toward his room, nearly tripping over his bag. "stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like—you know what. just stop."

you grinned. "good night, minho."

"yeah, yeah. night." he paused at his door. "try not to dream about me."

"oh my god, get out of here."

he laughed and disappeared into his room. you heard the door close, then a thud— like he'd fallen onto his bed.

tomorrow was going to be interesting.

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read chapter four here.

a/n: surely chapter 4 will come out quicker.....surely....

taglist is open!!! comment if you'd like to be tagged

taglist: @minho4luv @daises-and-domming @gabimmat @mxmx09 @genders-waterfall @st4rlog @radiantstarz @scarlettuce-lettuce @mxmx09 @probably-not-a-camboy @lunastarjay @kerrybuckett @sana-within-you

now you were back at the villa, both sprawled on the massive couch in the living room. the sun had set an hour ago, and the space was lit by soft yellow lamps and the glow of the tv screen.

"this is nice," jun said, head tilted back against the cushions.

"yeah." you were curled into his side, his arm around your shoulders. "we should do this more."

"what, watch movies?"

"just... be still. together."

he smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "we're married now. we can do this whenever we want."

married.

the word felt strange on your tongue. new. you'd said vows yesterday—stood in front of everyone you loved and promised forever to each other. danced until your feet hurt. cut cake. laughed until you cried. he'd said his vows first. stumbled over a word, laughed nervously, then looked at you like you were the only person in the room. said he'd loved you since the first time you'd argued with him about something stupid—he couldn't even remember what. Said he wanted every argument, every laugh, every quiet morning for the rest of his life.

you'd cried—you tried not to, but failed completely.

and now you were here. married. to jun.

"what do you want to watch?" he asked, scrolling through netflix with the remote.

"i don't know. something easy."

"rom-com?"

"sure."

he picked something—you didn't even catch the title. it didn't really matter. you weren't actually planning to pay attention.

jun hit play and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. on screen, some actor you vaguely recognized was running through an airport.

"classic," jun muttered.

"you picked it."

"i know. i have excellent taste."

you laughed, settling deeper into his side. he was warm, solid. his fingers traced absent patterns on your arm.

the movie played. you watched without really watching. your brain was too full of other things—the weight of the ring on your finger, the sound of jun's breathing, the fact that this was your life now. married to him. waking up next to him every day. building something permanent.

"you okay?" jun asked quietly.

you looked up at him. "yeah. why?"

"you're quiet."

"just thinking."

"about what?"

"us. this. how weird it is that we're married now."

his expression softened. "good weird?"

"the best weird."

jun's hand moved to cup your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. "i keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this'll all be a dream.”

"i'm real," you interrupted softly.

"i know. but sometimes i can't believe you picked me. that you said yes. that you're here."

your throat tightened. "jun—"

"i'm serious. i spent so long thinking i'd fuck this up somehow. that I'd say the wrong thing or be too much or not enough. and you married me anyway."

"you're an idiot," you said, but your voice cracked.

he kissed you then, slow and sweet. like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the shape of your mouth against his.

when he pulled back, you were both smiling.

"i love you," he said.

"i love you too."

you stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other. the movie kept playing in the background, dialogue you weren't listening to.

jun's hand slid from your face to your neck, thumb tracing your collarbone. his eyes followed the movement, dark and focused.

"jun."

"mm?"

"the movie."

"what about it?"

"you're not watching."

"neither are you."

fair point.

his hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your arm to rest on your hip. the touch was light, almost absent-minded, but your skin felt hot where he touched you.

"we should finish the movie," you said, even though you didn't mean it.

"we should," he agreed, not moving.

you shifted, turning to face him properly. his hand stayed on your hip, grip tightening slightly.

"or," you said slowly, "we could do something else."

his eyes met yours. there was a flicker of something there—heat, want, that look he got when he was trying to be patient but barely holding on.

"yeah?" his voice was rougher.

"yeah."

you moved before he could, swinging your leg over to straddle him. his hands went to your waist immediately, steadying you.

"hi," you said.

"hi." he was grinning now, that bright smile that made your chest ache.

you kissed him, deeper this time. his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. you could feel him already getting hard beneath you.

"we're supposed to be watching the movie," he murmured against your mouth.

"you want to stop?"

"absolutely not."

you laughed, grinding down against him. he groaned, head falling back against the couch.

"fuck," he breathed.

you kissed down his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your lips. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements.

"wait," he said suddenly.

you pulled back. "what?"

"are you sure? we don't have to—"

"jun." you cupped his face. "i'm sure. i want this. i want you."

his expression softened. "okay. yeah. me too."

you kissed him again, slower this time. his hands slid under your shirt, warm against your skin.

you pulled back just enough to tug your shirt over your head. jun's eyes went dark, gaze trailing over you like he was trying to memorize every detail.

"you're so beautiful," he said quietly.

your face heated. "shut up."

"i'm serious."

"i know. that's why i'm telling you to shut up."

he laughed, pulling you back down to kiss you. his hands traced up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your bra.

you reached back to unhook it, letting it fall away. jun made a sound low in his throat.

"can i—" he started.

"yes."

his mouth found your chest, tongue circling one nipple while his hand cupped the other. you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.

he took his time, switching between both sides until you were squirming in his lap.

"jun," you whined.

"what do you need?"

"you. more."

he pulled back, breathing hard. "yeah. okay."

you climbed off him just long enough for both of you to strip off the rest of your clothes. when you straddled him again, skin to skin, you both moaned.

"god," jun breathed, hands on your hips. "you feel so good."

you reached between you to line him up, then sank down slowly. the stretch made you gasp, made your eyes flutter closed.

jun's fingers dug into your skin. "fuck. fuck, you're—"

you started moving, slow rolls of your hips. jun watched you with this dazed expression, like he couldn't believe this was real.

"you okay?" you asked.

"yeah. more than okay. you're perfect."

you picked up the pace, hands braced on his shoulders. jun met your movements, hips lifting to meet yours.

"that's it," he murmured. "just like that."

his hand slid between you, thumb finding your clit. you moaned, head falling back.

"look at me," jun said.

you did. his eyes were dark, intense, completely focused on you.

"i love you," he said.

"i love you too."

the coil in your stomach was tightening, heat building with every movement. jun could tell—he always could. his thumb moved faster, other hand guiding your hips.

"come for me," he said quietly. "want to feel you."

that did it. you came with a broken moan, clenching around him. jun groaned, hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge.

you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard.

after a minute, jun's arms came around you, holding you close.

"so," you said eventually.

"so."

"we're definitely not finishing that movie."

he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "probably not."

you lifted your head to look at him. his hair was a mess, lips swollen, eyes bright.

"no regrets?" you asked.

"about the movie or the sex?"

"either. both."

"zero regrets." he kissed you softly. "best honeymoon ever."

you smiled against his mouth. "we've been here one day."

"and i'm already right."

you rolled your eyes but couldn't stop smiling.

later, you'd clean up. move to the bedroom. actually sleep.

but for now you stayed there, wrapped around each other on the couch, the forgotten movie still playing in the background.

you could get used to this.

"let's run the transition one more time," felix said, moving into position.

you and minho nodded. your jaw was tight, nerves and frustration mixing into something uncomfortable in your chest. this had to be perfect. you couldn't give him anything else to criticize.

you moved through the choreography. everything was fine until right before the duet section.

minho stopped. "your timing's off."

you froze. "what?"

"that turn. you were late."

"i wasn't—"

"you were. i felt it."

your stomach twisted into knots, frustration and anxiety mixing a maelstrom of emotions.

"okay, i get it. this is the 3rd time you've pointed it out."

"you keep doing it," he shot back. "i'm not trying to mess up our last chance."

your voice was hard. "you think i don't know that? you think i don't hear you sigh every time i move?"

"don't flip this on me. i'm allowed to be stressed."

"and i'm allowed to do my own damn counts!"

"are you serious right now?" he stepped closer. "i thought we were past this."

your chest tightened. "i never said we weren't, but you're clearly trying to start something. i'm just trying to make sure we don't screw up again and you won't stop pointing out every little—"

"little?" he cut you off. "this is our final. we already failed once. there's no room for mistakes."

"i know that!"

felix moved between you. "guys. stop. not now."

"i'm just—" minho started.

"save it," you interrupted, turning away. "you know what? i'm done arguing over this shit."

"fine."

"fine."

silence.

you turned away, jaw clenched, trying to force down the anger bubbling in your throat. this wasn't the time. you could be pissed at him after. felix shifted uncomfortably and hyunjin cleared his throat. the tension was suffocating.

then the professor's voice echoed from the theater.

"whenever you're ready."

your stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up your throat. this was it. the retake. just you, your group, and the professor who'd already seen you fail once.

your hands were shaking. you tried to steady them, flexing your fingers, but it didn't help. this was supposed to be different from last time. you had practiced until your feet ached, running through the choreography in your head every night before sleep. and now you were fighting with minho again, minutes before stepping on stage.

the professor was watching.

waiting.

felix gave you a look that said get it together. hyunjin wouldn't meet your eyes. minho's jaw was set, mouth tight. he wasn't looking at you either.

then the music started.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

the group section was clean. every transition hit.

felix and hyunjin were perfect.

felix's footwork was clean—every step sharp and deliberate. hyunjin moved like he wasn't even trying, all smooth transitions and easy confidence.

the rhythm carried you through each movement—the opening sequence, the formations, and the transitions.

then the duet.

you and minho moved into position. the music changed.

for a second you thought about the fight. about how nothing was resolved. about how you were supposed to dance together when you could barely look at each other.

but then his hand found yours and the fight didn't matter anymore. not right now. right now there was just the music and the steps you'd practiced a thousand times. you could be pissed at him after.

you moved together.

it wasn't perfect. there were rough spots, moments where you were slightly off. but you were together. every lift felt solid. every turn, he was there.

the anger came through in the choreography. the frustration. all the unresolved shit between you made every movement sharper.

you hit the turn you'd messed up before. minho's hands were steady, grip firm and sure. you landed it clean. relief flooded through you so fast it almost threw you off the next count. the sequence where he'd screwed up his footwork came. this time he nailed it—foot placement perfect, timing exact. part of you wanted to feel smug about it, but mostly you just felt relieved. you were both getting it right.

you hit the final pose, both breathing hard, his hand gripping yours. the music stopped.

silence.

you stood there, still holding on to him. slowly, you turned to look at him.

he was already looking at you.

neither of you smiled. but something passed between you—an understanding, maybe. or just the shared relief of not fucking it up twice. the acknowledgment that you'd both actually pulled it off when it mattered.

the professor stood up, walking toward the stage.

"much better than your first attempt," he said. "significant amount of improvement." the technique was solid and the chemistry was actually convincing this time."

he glanced between you and minho. "you'll get your official grades tomorrow, but i wanted to tell you now—you passed."

you felt dizzy with relief.

"thank you," felix said quickly. "thank you so much."

the professor nodded. "you're dismissed."

he walked out, leaving the four of you standing there in the empty theater.

"holy shit," hyunjin said, out of breath. "we actually passed."

felix laughed. "i thought we were fucked after last time."

"we need to celebrate," hyunjin said, pulling out his phone. "that bar near campus—"

"i need air," you said.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

you took a deep breath, staring at the concrete outside.

you passed. it was over.

so why did you feel so empty?

the adrenaline was fading, leaving you hollow. you'd passed. that should've been enough. should've felt like relief, like victory, like something other than this weird emptiness sitting in your chest.

people walked by, laughing, talking about their own finals. someone shouted about drinks. the world kept moving like your entire semester hadn't just come down to one performance.

footsteps sounded behind you.

"hey."

you turned, bracing yourself for whatever look he'd give you—criticism, frustration, something. but when your eyes met his, there was nothing like that. just the same exhausted relief you felt.

minho.

"hey."

neither of you seemed to know what to say. the fight was still sitting there between you, unresolved and heavy.

"that was good," he said. "the performance."

"yeah."

you could hear traffic in the distance, voices from inside the building, but out here it was just the two of you standing in this strange space where nothing was resolved. not fighting, but not okay either.

"about before—" he started.

"not right now." you cut him off. "please."

he nodded. "okay."

you both just stood there.

"felix and hyunjin are going to that bar," minho said. "you coming?"

you hesitated before answering. "yeah," you said anyway. "sure."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

the bar was packed with students celebrating the end of finals. felix ordered shots immediately.

"to passing!" he announced.

"to passing," you all repeated.

the alcohol burned the back of your throat, but it helped. you ordered another. then another. minho sat across from you with his beer. your eyes met sometimes, but he would look away.

"okay i have to ask," hyunjin said, leaning forward. "are you guys together or not? you're both seriously confusing."

"hyunjin—" felix started.

"i'm serious! you're not talking, then you're talking, then making out in the practice room—"

"we weren't—" you started.

"i heard you," hyunjin interrupted. "walls are thin. so are you together or what?"

you and minho looked at each other.

"we're figuring it out," minho said.

"that's not an answer."

"it's all we have right now."

hyunjin opened his mouth but felix elbowed him. "leave them alone."

"i'm just saying it's getting pretty exhausting."

"hyunjin."

"fine." he held up his hands. "but you're both terrible at hiding it."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

by the time you left you were buzzed. not drunk, but close. felix and hyunjin headed to their place, leaving you and minho alone.

the walk back was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind from before. you walked side by side this time, close enough that your hands almost brushed a few times. neither of you mentioned it.

"we should talk," minho said when you reached your building.

"yeah."

the elevator ride was silent. when you got to your floor you both went straight to the door.

minho unlocked it. you went inside.

the door closed and suddenly the apartment felt way too small. like there wasn't enough space for both of you and everything you needed to say.

"i'm sorry," you both said at once.

then minho laughed—he sounded surprised.

"i shouldn't have been on your ass so much," he said, rubbing his neck. "i was stressed and took it out on you."

"i was stressed too." you sat on the couch. he sat next to you—close but not touching. "i felt like nothing i did was right."

"that's not—" he turned to face you. "i was scared we'd fuck it up again. that i'd fuck it up. so i tried to control everything."

"you can't control everything."

"i know." he let out a breath. "i'm still bad at this."

"me too."

you sat there. the tension from earlier was melting away slowly.

"we passed though," you said.

"yeah."

"so we can stop fighting about dance."

his mouth twitched as if he was holding back a smile. "we'll probably still fight."

"yeah." you smiled a little. "but about normal stuff."

"like what?"

"i don't know. normal couple stuff."

the word sat there between you.

"couple," minho repeated.

your face flushed. "i didn't—"

"is that what you want?" he cut you off. "to be a couple?"

you looked at him. at the way he was watching you—careful and unsure.

"i don't know," you admitted. "i've never done this for real."

"me neither."

"so we're clueless."

"pretty much."

you moved closer, watching his face for any sign he'd pull away. you needed to know if he wanted this as much as you did. "we could try though."

"you already said that."

"it worked before."

he smiled for real this time.

"yeah," he said quietly. "it did."

he leaned in. you met him halfway. the kiss was slower this time. less desperate.

when you pulled back you were both smiling.

you kissed him again, deeper this time. his hands found your waist, gripping tight.

you shifted closer until you were practically in his lap.

"wait—" he breathed against your mouth. "should we—"

"shut up," you murmured, pushing him back against the couch.

he went willingly, eyes wide, breath coming faster. you straddled him, feeling him already half-hard beneath you.

"oh," he gasped when you rolled your hips.

you kissed down his jaw, his neck, feeling him shiver. his hands hovered at your waist.

"touch me," you said against his skin.

his grip tightened immediately, fingers digging in. you pulled back to look at him—his face was already flushed, lips parted, eyes dark.

"you good?" you asked.

"yeah. yeah, i'm—" he cut off when you ground down against him. "fuck."

you tugged at his shirt and he helped you pull it off. then yours. his hands traced up your sides, gentle.

"can i—" he started.

"you don't have to ask for everything," you said, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to.

"i know. i just—" he looked up at you, vulnerable. "i want to do this right."

you kissed him, slow and deep. "you're doing fine."

his hands slid up your back as you kissed, then fumbled with the clasp of your bra. when he finally got it off, he pulled back to look at you, and the expression on his face made heat pool in your stomach.

"stop staring," you said.

"can't help it." his voice was rough. "you're—"

you kissed him before he could finish, grinding down against him harder. he moaned into your mouth, hips jerking up.

"impatient?" you teased.

"you're—" he gasped when you did it again. "you're doing that on purpose."

"maybe."

you reached between you to palm him through his jeans. he made a choked sound, head falling back against the couch.

"god," he whined.

"what?"

"you feel so—i can't—" he couldn't finish the sentence.

you undid his jeans, helping him lift his hips to push them down along with his boxers. he kicked them off the rest of the way, then watched as you stood to take off yours.

when you straddled him again, skin to skin, he groaned.

"is this okay?" you asked, positioned over him.

"yeah. yes. don't stop—"

you sank down slowly, watching his face. his mouth fell open, eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

"look at me," you said.

he opened his eyes, and the way he looked at you—desperate and overwhelmed—made you clench around him. he groaned.

"you feel so good," he managed, voice wrecked. "i can't—"

you started moving, slow at first, finding a rhythm. his hips moved to meet yours, desperate and uncoordinated.

"let me—" he tried.

"let me do this," you said, pushing his hands up to rest on the back of the couch. "just feel it."

he nodded, looking up at you with wide eyes. you rode him slowly, torturously, watching him fall apart beneath you.

"please," he gasped. "please, i need—"

"what do you need?"

"faster. something. i don't know, just—please—"

you leaned down to kiss him, swallowing his moan as you picked up the pace. his hands came down to grip your hips again, holding on.

"that's it," you murmured against his mouth.

he made a broken sound, hips jerking up to meet yours. you could feel him getting close—tensing, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

"i'm—" he gasped.

"go ahead," you said, reaching between you to touch yourself.

he came with a breathy moan, hips stuttering, fingers digging into your skin. the feeling of him pulsing inside you, the wrecked look on his face, pushed you over the edge too.

you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard.

after a minute, his arms came around you, holding you close.

"so," you said eventually.

"so."

"we're doing this."

"yeah."

you lifted your head to look at him. "are you scared?"

"yeah."

"me too."

he kissed your forehead. "we'll figure it out though."

"together?"

"together."

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped around each other on the couch. eventually you'd have to move, clean up, actually talk about what this meant.

but right now this was enough.

"hey," minho said quietly.

"mm?"

"i'm glad we didn't fuck it up."

you smiled against his skin. "me too."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

a/n: im so bad at writing fluff forgive me if its cringe..

taglist: @minho4luv @daises-and-domming @gabimmat @mxmx09 @genders-waterfall @st4rlog @radiantstarz @scarlettuce-lettuce @mxmx09 @probably-not-a-camboy @lunastarjay @kerrybuckett @sana-within-you @spicypeppers143 @pineappleonmyburger @channlust

ever since then, you’d been stuck to this routine where you tried to one-up each other constantly. your manager called it “healthy competition”—while your cubicle mate thought you needed to fight or fuck and get it over with.

the worst part was, seungmin was actually good at his job—too good. he caught details everyone else missed, and his campaigns actually performed well. 

he was also unfortunately very attractive.

especially when he was focused.

not that you were paying attention or anything.

“you’re doing the thing again,” jiwoo said without looking up from her computer.

“what thing?” you quickly flicked your gaze away from him and onto jiwoo.

“the thing where you stare at seungmin and pretend you’re looking at the clock behind him.”

you kicked her chair and glared at her. “i’m not—the reports are due and i’m trying to see how stressed he looks.”

“uh-huh.” she spun around with a grin. “for someone who claims to hate him, you’re awfully interested in his stressed levels.”

seungmin showed up at your desk before you could answer, leaning against the partition with his arms crossed.

“you’re conversion rates are off,” he said, wearing that agitating smirk on his face. “might want to double-check before the meeting with your client.

“wow, what would I do without you?” you looked up from your screen. “did you factor in the holiday weekend, or did you forget people don't actually shop on christmas?”

his expression changed as you watched his ears turn pink—something you started noticing lately.

“i—” he straightened up and cleared his throat. “right. i'll fix mine right away then.”

“you’re welcome,” you said sweetly.

he muttered something under his breath and headed back to his desk, pulling his laptop towards him harder than he needed to.

flustering seungmin had become your favorite part of the day. he was so composed most of the time but you'd discovered he got easily thrown off when you pushed the right buttons. his ears turned red whenever you complemented his work. get too close while reviewing documents and he’d suddenly find something interesting on the ceiling. flirt with him instead of argue and he'd completely malfunction.

you couldn't help yourself.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

"that's mine," seungmin said, reaching for a sheet as it slid into the tray.

"no, that's—" you reached for the same paper and your fingers touched. he jerked back like you'd shocked him. "actually, yeah, that's yours."

the printer continued its sluggish work, and you both stood there. you leaned against the counter, blocking the output tray.

"you're in my way," he said, but made no effort to go around you. “move.”

"am I?" you didn't move, just smiled up at him. "you could say please."

for a second, something flickered across his face—something that made your stomach flip. then he leaned down, close enough that you could smell his cologne, and said quietly, "please move before I make you."

you just stared at him. 

he pulled back with that stupid smirk back, grabbing his papers and leaving you standing there like an idiot.

okay.

so he could push back.

good to know.

the meeting went fine—both of your numbers were corrected, and they loved the campaign concepts. your manager praised the team's “collaborative energy," which made you question whether he was blind or just oblivious.

walking back to your desks, seungmin matched your pace.

"not bad," he said casually.

"was that a compliment?" you questioned with a slight grin on your face.

"don't get ahead of yourself." he was almost smiling, "your presentation skills are getting better.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

after that, things changed. the bickering didn't stop, but it felt different. he started bringing you coffee when he got his tea, always claiming the cafe messed up his order even though it was made exactly how you liked it. you'd leave sticky notes on his monitor with ridiculous corrections just to make him laugh. during late nights at the office, you'd end up working side by side, complaining about management.

"this is pathetic," you said one evening. the office was dark except for your desks. It was past nine and you were both working on the quarterly report. "we need to find something better to do."

"speak for yourself. i have hobbies,” he countered, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“right,” you said in a sarcastic tone, "whatever you say."

"i'll have you know i'm very interesting outside of work," he said, but he was smiling too. "i have... interests."

"name one," you leaned forward in your chair.

"photography.”

"seriously?" you asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"why do you sound so surprised?" he leaned back in his chair, stretching. you tried not to notice his shirt pulling across his chest. "i'm a man of many talents."

"name two then.” you quickly fired back.

"making you speechless, apparently." he was looking at you now, eyes dark.

"i’m never speechless, you just catch me off guard." you rolled your chair closer to his desk, "besides, i could say the same about you."

"what's that supposed to mean?" he frowned, narrowing his eyes at you

"please. you get flustered every time i stand within three feet of you."

"i do not get flustered—"

"your ears are literally pink right now.”

he reached up self-consciously, which only proved your point. "that's—it's warm in here."

"it's like sixty degrees,” you replied. “they turn the ac up at night."

"has anyone ever told you you're incredibly annoying?" he muttered.

"you. constantly." his jaw tightened as his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

"has anyone ever told you you're a terrible liar?"

"I'm not lying—"

"seungmin." you said his name softly. "do i make you nervous?"

neither of you moved. 

"you drive me insane," he said finally. "that's not the same thing as being nervous."

"what is it then?"

"i don't know," he said quietly. "you tell me. what am i doing to you right now?"

your breath hitched. "that's not fair."

"isn't it?" he smiled, but it wasn't smug this time. 

"you've been messing with me for months. "saying things and looking at me like that during meetings. you think i didn’t notice?"

"looking at you like what?" you whispered, suddenly aware of the space between you.

"like you're trying to figure something out." he stood up, and you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. 

"did you? figure it out?"

you stood too. "maybe i did."

"and?"

"and I think you're just as bad as me." you stepped closer. "i think you bring me coffee because you like doing it. i think you stay late because i'm staying late. i think—"

he kissed you.

or maybe you kissed him. you weren't sure who moved first, just that his hands found your waist and yours were fisted in his shirt. he kissed like he was proving a point— you bit his bottom lip just to get back at him and he whimpered into your mouth.

"this is—we shouldn't—" he said against your mouth, but he didn't pull away.

"probably not," you agreed, then kissed him again.

he walked you backward until you hit the desk, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing against your ribs. you tugged him closer by his belt loops and he groaned, breaking away to trail kisses down your jaw.

"you're so—" he muttered against your neck, "....infuriating."

"i could say the same about you."

a/n: could u tell i was listening to overtime by bryson tiller while making this..