Chapter Text
Bin has improved. Like, he's improved a lot. He's improved so much that Sanha isn't giving him fake compliments to boost his confidence anymore and Myungjun actually looked impressed last lesson. It's still not enough.
He's making too little progress in too much time. He's even started using his reserved rehearsal time in the dance studio to work over the chords and lyrics. He's determined to get it memorized and ready to perform soon, but with every passing day the chance of that happening seems less and less likely.
Bin's sitting against the mirrors, playing the bridge for the sixth, maybe seventh, time now. His fingers fumble consistently at the same point and the chords never seem to match up to the right beat. Maybe beating his head into the wall would be helpful.
The door opens, letting in a stream of warm air. Bin has never thought the studio to be cold, but then again he's never been so still it it either. He's ready to speak up, tell the freshman who entered that he has this spot reserved for the hour, so if they could please leave-
That...is not a freshman.
It is so obviously and completely not a freshman that Bin doesn't know how to respond.
"Hello?" Dongmin asks, stepping into the room with caution in his steps, the movements of a person in a place they've never been before. "Sorry, I just stopped by to grab something for my roommate? He said he left-"
Dongmin finally gets close enough to tell who it is he's speaking to, at least that's what Bin assumes. He'll gladly take the smile Dongmin is sending his way though. "Oh! Moon Bin?"
Despite a half hour of singing, in a key transposed to fit his range much better, his voice is a little raspy when he speaks. "Yeah, I'm - it's me."
Dongmin's eyes trail down, and Bin realizes why a second too late.
"Am I interrupting? Do you play?" Dongmin looks a little concerned but also very excited. An interest is lighting his eyes and Bin's pride flares knowing that he's the reason why.
No, you're not ready. Just tell him no. Tell him you still need to-
"Yeah."
What're you doing?!
"Do you want to hear?"
Bin's brain is unable to reel in the part of him that blindly adheres to Dongmin's smile, and soon enough Dongmin is beside him on the floor. It's too late to go back, to do anything differently. Bin's brain has left the building, left him to his own irrational actions fueled by pretty faces and prettier personalities.
Well, here goes nothing.
It's muscle memory, for the most part. It's just like learning a dance. His fingers go to their designated spots, not moving positions until the beat says to. His mouth forms words to a melody he knows like the back of his hand, even if he doesn't speak the language. Dongmin does though, and that's what matters.
"There no need to complicate, 'Cause our time is sho-o-ort. This, oh this, this is our fate. I'm yo-o-ours."
His hands are sweating, and his voice is shaking a bit. He knows he messed up the bridge, again, but he did it. He did it.
When he musters up the courage to raise his head, to meet the face of his judge...it's a lot closer than he was expecting. Like, a lot closer. So close in fact, that it's a mirror image when they both scoot back to avoid bumping noses together. Bin's head almost collides with the guitar as he ducks down, skin hot with nerves among other things.
"That was," Hearing Dongmin's voice is like a magnet, it draw Bin's eyes subconsciously. "That was great." His smile is soft and pink and totally meant for Bin.
"It was meant for you."
Bin's brain pops back up, just in time to scream what was that?
Dongmin's smile has vanished, his lips dropping to a small 'O' shape as his face darkens to a more concentrated red.
Why can't Bin's brain work like a normal human's around him?
A cell phone goes off, the tone breaking their eye contact as Dongmin reaches into his pocket. Bin is thankful for the chance to cool down. Dongmin's face, however, is scrunched up with confusion. From their (close) proximity, Bin can see a spattering of random keyboard characters. Nothing seems to make sense, to Bin or Dongmin given his expression.
Dongmin stands, briefly scanning the room before grabbing a water bottle tossed in the corner. He offers a small explanation, something about his roommate's failed attempt at flirting with a barista, as he stuffs the bottle into a pocket of his. He's headed for the door and Bin's heart has dropped to his stomach. On the bright side, the lessening of embarrassment is almost worth the curdling feel of disappointment right now.
"So," Bin looks at the door. Dongmin has paused beneath the doorframe, still facing outside. "You said that song, um, was for me?"
Bin doesn't know if he can speak another word, maybe that's the power of song. Maybe he shouldn't bash on music theory as much anymore. He nods instead.
"It really was beautiful," Dongmin's words are quiet. He turns to meet Bin's gaze. "I should thank you properly."
Bin's mind is racing, his brain has failed to put any of what's just happened into some coherent context.
"Coffee? At the small cafe across the library? Tomorrow at 7-ish?"
Tomorrow is Friday, and Bin doesn't have class till noon, which is in coincidentally only fifteen minutes after he'd wake up.
"Sure."
Dongmin smiles. "Great. I'll see you then." He leaves, letting the door fall shut behind him. The guitar finally slips from Bin's hand and falls into his lap; an echoing chord fills the air.
---
When Bin reaches his door, he's prepared to use Sanha's guitar as a battering ram to get in. His morals, and the money he still owes Sanha for the broken strings, get the best of him last minute. He decides to take the extra minute to fish for his keys and open the door properly.
The amount of times Bin has come into their room only to find Minhyuk looking disinterested at a book is crazy. Minhyuk does not read this much. It's like he's trying to look dramatic.
"How did it go?" Minhyuk says, eyes never leaving the page.
"How did what-?"
"Your serenading and stuff. Was it doves and magic like you hoped?"
Bin slips the guitar strap off his shoulder, setting it gently against his bed. "It was enough for a coffee date." His tone is nonchalant, even if the sentence alone spikes his heart rate.
Minhyuk finally looks over with a smile. "Knew some competition would get your head in the game."
Bin laughs, pulling at his hoodie. "Did you seriously just quote high school mus-" He stops, halfway through undressing. Wait. He yanks the fabric off the top of his torso, hair flying up wildly. "What competition?"
He goes over the last thirty seconds of conversation. "How did you even know I already sang-"
"Like Jinwoo would go after Eunwoo when he's been fawning after Myungjun the past month." Bin isn't looking, but Minhyuk has that one tone of voice going, the scheming little mastermind.
Click.
"So the guy-" Bin starts.
"I was scared you'd recognize him." Bin can hear the book get tossed to the side. Minhyuk probabaly didn't even read it. It was dramatic, because it was all set up. "We've performed in the same group a couple times. Lucky for me you were too busy staring at Dongmin cheering him on to notice."
When Bin finally turns to face Minhyuk, it's just as he imagined. The kid is laying back in his bed, the biggest smirk on his face. His hands are resting behind his head and he's basically the textbook definition of smug.
Bin pounces.
Minhyuk doesn't have the chance to defend himself before Bin is tackling him to the bed, ruffling his hair and wrestling around.
"Hey! W-wait, Bin Hyung!" Minhyuk is shouting. "I don't think your boyfriend would like you being so rough in bed with another-"
"Oh shut up and accept your thanks, Minhyuk."