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"Myungho," he says one night, cradling an almost-asleep Minghao to his chest. "We have a problem."
"It's 3AM," Minghao mumbles from where he is snuggled against Seokmin's chest, which, fair. The clock on the wall reads 3:05AM. The room is covered in the flickering light from a muted movie about the ocean and the mountains playing on the television that both of them are too tired to pay attention to and had put on just for some background noise while they cuddled. Minghao was about to finally drift off to sleep after a long day of running around with the event planners, and yet—
"I can't dance," Seokmin reminds him. "We forgot to fit in my dance lessons for the first dance tomorrow."
There's a tuft of hair sticking out at the back of Minghao's hair and Seokmin reaches over to smooth it down, letting his hand rest there. For a moment, he thinks that Minghao has fallen back asleep and their first dance will have to be something that will stick out like a funny memory in the perfect landscape of their wedding. It's not ideal, Minghao had worked hard to make sure that every single detail of their wedding would be perfect, but waking up Minghao when he is probably too tired to do anything about this is not something Seokmin is willing to do.
Then, as if the gravity of the situation drops atop Minghao all at once, he jerks up in Seokmin's arms and stares at him, a little bewildered. Seokmin smiles back warily.
"You don't know how to dance."
"I don't."
At this, Minghao's face contorts into the Minghao-equivalent of a contemplative face, which, practically speaking, means very little, only that the furrow between his eyebrows is deeper than usual, which is important. It is an important distinction because Minghao does not like to be disturbed when he is thinking about something, turning over ideas in his head and untangling the knot of his thoughts. So, Seokmin waits, all the while fiddling with the soft, curled hair at the nape of Minghao's neck.
"Okay," Minghao says after what seemed to be a long internal discussion with himself, his contemplation giving way to determination as he pushes back and away from Seokmin's embrace. Seokmin misses the warmth immediately, chases after it like a moth drawn to flame until they're both sitting on the sofa, pressed all the way from shoulder to knees.
It has been like this ever since Minghao got down on one knee in front of Seokmin with a ring – their hands now reach out for each other almost instinctively. Mingyu called it co-dependence but Seokmin knows that it's more than just that. Every time he lays his eyes on Minghao, he hungers for more, more, more – he almost feels blinded by it. They've been together for eight years and Seokmin has loved Minghao for even longer, but maybe everything just feels different when someone promises their love to you for a lifetime.
"Okay," Minghao repeats, dragging Seokmin's attention away from the beauty spot at the hinge of his jaw which he had been considering dropping a kiss atop. He looks up at Minghao and is met with a knowing look – it's to be expected, Seokmin has never been very good at masking his desire in front of Minghao, has never seen the point to it.
He wants Minghao and that is all there is to it.
"Let's dance." Minghao taps his phone a few times before placing it on the coffee table once the music starts filling the room. A slow, jazz song from their wedding playlist that Minghao had stressed over for weeks, would have lost sleep over had Seokmin not threatened to stay up with him if he did.
Seokmin follows him to where he goes to stand at the least cluttered corner of their living room and easily slips his arms around Minghao's neck.
Minghao gives him a look and guides his hands to the correct position – one on Minghao's shoulder and other gripping his hand. The music flows between them. They stand there, facing each other and the proximity makes Seokmin want to lean forward and kiss him and so he does.
The first time they kissed, it had come easy, almost natural. It's the same now, after years of kisses falling behind them. Seokmin's lips catch Minghao's as he kisses him, close-mouthed, once, twice, before pulling back.
"Lead the way, seonsaengnim!" Seokmin teases, grinning. He is met with an eye roll that does nothing to suppress the smile threatening to break out as Minghao steps closer and places his palm over Seokmin's waist. Despite the barrier of cloth in between, the touch is warm.
Minghao sighs, straightening his back before looking down and focusing on their sock-clad feet. Seokmin can see the back of his head and the stubborn tuft of hair that is still sticking out. He is tempted to run his fingers over it again, tamp it down gently, but they have a task at hand. He focuses his attention back to Minghao's instructions.
"First, step back with your right foot."
He steps back.
"Good. Now, move to your left."
He moves to his left. Minghao is still transfixed by their feet.
"Close your right foot to your left."
He does – except, he must not have because he stumbles forward and his head bumps against Minghao's forehead with a muted thud. It doesn't hurt much, but the surprise of the impact drags a noise out of him and his hand flies up to cradle his chin.
He snaps his head up when he hears a giggle and looks to find that yes – Minghao is giggling, loud and unabashed, while holding one hand to his forehead. Seokmin wonders if the impact was a little too hard and now he has a concussed fiancé on his hands.
"What was that?" Minghao gets out in-between giggles. "You seriously have two left feet."
Seokmin pouts. It's funny, he admits. He had none of the grace and control that Minghao held in his body as a product of years of dance. Still, he whines out, "Myungho-yah."
Immediately, there are hands cupping his jaw. The metal of the engagement ring presses against the skin of his neck. "Seokmin-ah," Minghao mimics him, fondness dripping down his face. Seokmin loves him, he almost feels hysterical with it.
"I love you," he blurts out. Then, as if they have not been writing their vows to each other for weeks, he adds, "I hope you know."
Minghao smiles at him, first in amusement and then like he cannot help himself. He leans closer, rests his forehead against Seokmin's and sighs deeply. "I love you," he whispers in the space between them.
They stay like that for a bit, basking in the comfort of each other's presence and the knowledge of their love. The songs keep changing and at one point, the movie that had been playing in the background ends and the room gets dipped in the dim light of the rolling credits. At the fifth song on the playlist, Minghao suddenly leans back a little so that he can look into Seokmin's eyes. "Are you trying to distract me?"
Seokmin smiles. "I don't know. Is it working?"
Minghao huffs. "You're awful. Back to dancing."
They do and after the fourth time tripping on his own feet and narrowly avoiding smashing his face against the coffee table, Seokmin is seriously starting to wonder if he can pull off a bruised face for his own wedding. Minghao seems to share the concern for his well-being because he drops their conjoined hands with a muttered — "This isn't working."
He is quiet for a moment, his contemplative face back on and Seokmin sees the exact moment an idea comes to him with the way his eyes brighten up. He moves his hands so that they're gripping Seokmin's waist and Seokmin allows himself to be maneuvered to step his feet onto Minghao's.
"Like this," Minghao says, "Just follow me."
They're almost the same height and pressed together so closely, their breaths mingle and their gazes catch. Every point of contact burns right through Seokmin's skin, warming him up from the inside-out.
It's a little hard to move in this position — they're more waddling than taking actual steps forwards or backwards, but it works. They get through a full song with Seokmin intact before the song changes to an upbeat one, more suited for dancing for the sake of it instead of a well-polished waltz.
Fuelled by a sort of hysteria that only arises from being awake while being filled to the brim with an overwhelming love for someone, Seokmin grabs Minghao hands and tries to twirl him in the small space they had. Minghao allows him to, giggles escaping his mouth so loud that they edge on squeals of delight. He bumps against the wall and collapses against Seokmin's chest, tipping his head back and laughing way too loud for the hour but Seokmin could not bring himself to care – like this, in their apartment, dancing together in each other's arms while the world slept, it felt like the world had reduced down to just the two of them.
His body moves before he can think about it, pressing his lips against Minghao's, swallowing a giggle that gets cut-out by a surprised gasp and then swallowing that, too. He holds one hand against the apple of Minghao's cheek and lets the other run a slow path across his spine, feeling the way his back curves inwards.
Minghao hums appreciatively against his lips, kissing back slow and deep. This was something that had been different since they had first begun to learn the other, mapping bodies with lips and touches. They used to be rushed, a little rough, as if running on a deadline. There was no rush now, they had all the time to be with each other and each other's.
Seokmin presses even closer, despite being pressed so close that he can feel their chests expand and contract in tandem. He pushes Minghao against the wall and kisses him like that, slow and languid. A couple sighs of contentment escape both of them and even if this is all that they have the energy for now, it's enough. There will be more time later.
By the time they separate, the playlist has long ended and the sound of their panting breaths are all that fills up the room. Even in the dim light, Seokmin can see how slick and swollen Minghao's lips are. He feels the same rush of affection every time he sees the way he can affect Minghao, the same I did that and he is mine, just as I am his running around his head.
Minghao turns his face against the palm of Seokmin's hand cupping his cheek and presses a kiss to the band of the ring there. He turns his eyes back to Seokmin and smiles, all sorts of smitten. "Let's go to bed. We need some sleep before we showcase your incredible dancing skills to the world."
Seokmin lets himself be led into their bathroom where they stand in front of the mirror and brush their teeth side by side. The domesticity of it all is not lost on Seokmin and he feels the same warmth that has been running under him all night rear its head again when he realizes that he will get to have this everyday.
When they fall into bed together, Minghao curls up against Seokmin, his back flush against Seokmin's chest. In a few hours, Seokmin will see Minghao walk down the aisle and will inevitably choke back his tears. In a few hours, they will face each other in a room full of everyone they love and promise their love to the other.
For now, Seokmin drops a kiss on the mole at the nape of Minghao's neck and allows himself to drift off to sleep.