Work Text:
1, 2, 3, 4
5, 6, 7, 8
1, 2, 3, 4
5, 6-
Myungjun's leg slid from under him, sending him down, shoulder first, to meet the wooden floor. The resulting bang echoed around the practice room, his ears left ringing. By the time he could hear properly, the song had stopped, and nothing but his own heavy breath was left to fill the air.
Myungjun wasn't a dancer.
Not that he didn't try.
He'd spent hours upon hours practicing the same moves the others did; it just...took him a bit more time. Fantagio had done wonders to improve his dance skills, but that didn't make dancing easier, by any means. And with the other members having had so much more practice, experience, in their training; it almost felt like he had something left to prove.
So he'd stay after.
(The members were packing up, all too ready to head home after a long day of practice.
Rocky paused, glancing over to one person who didn't seem to be joining them.
Myungjun stepped back into first position, reworking the intro.
"Hyung? Are you coming?"
The others, by this point, had already taken off, walking the few minutes it took to get from practice room to dorm.
Myungjun turned to face the other, flashing a smile.
"I'm just finishing up this last move. I almost have it. I'll just be a little longer."
"Do you need any help? I can stay with you."
Myungjun felt something sharp in his chest.
"Park Minhyuk, are you doubting your hyung?" He asked, putting his hands on his hips and pulling a face.
Any concern on Rocky's face eased to a smile. He put his hands up, relenting, before sliding his bag over one shoulder.
"Of course not hyung."
Myungjun matched his smile, turning back to face the mirrors.
Rocky moved to open the door, but paused before stepping out.
"You will be home soon though, right?"
Myungjun hummed a response, more focused on the positioning of his arms.
"Jinjin hyung was worried last time."
He fumbled the next step.
It was quiet.
"I'll be home soon."
Myungjun waited for the door to close before he moved.
Then he started to work.)
Sometimes he'd ask the others for help. Sometimes he'd work on his own.
Today was just one of those days.
He almost had this routine set, and he'd never been so close to being satisfied with his own dancing. So he was going to put in whatever effort it took to finally get it right.
He was only meant to polish up a move or two.
But if he'd read the clock right, and it wasn't some sleep deprived hallucination, it was about three in the morning.
...
Jinwoo was going to kill him.
Or at least make him feel horribly guilty with how he worried the blond.
Maybe he'd just sleep in the practice room for the night.
He stood for a second, weighing the pros and cons.
(No Sanha to steal his blanket, but no one else to cuddle up to when he got cold...)
A series of sharp taps broke the silence.
Myungjun screamed.
He probably would've continued screaming if he didn't trip over himself trying to back away.
When he finally came to his senses, now flat on his behind, he recognized the figure hunched over behind the door, and the laughter coming from him.
"Aish."
He stood up, definitely not pouting, as he walked towards the door. His hand attempted to rub the sting away from a more than probable bruise now forming on his thigh.
Myungjun waited until the other could see his, decidedly unamused, expression before he reached for the knob.
Jinwoo only smiled wider at the sight of him.
Myungjun couldn't keep a straight face anyways.
(It's not that he was weak for that smile, of course not.)
He opened the door, and, in an instant, his arms were full, with another pair wrapping around his waist to squeeze tight. It took a moment before reflex kicked in, and he rested his cheek on Jinwoo's shoulder.
He was always the perfect size for a hug.
A sudden wave of calm washed over Myungjun and wow, was he really that tired?
The heavy silence of the room became something a bit softer.
"You know, you're lucky we've got glass doors." Myungjun said, voice strangely loud for how quiet he spoke.
"Otherwise we'd be missing a leader for our comeback."
Jinwoo just let out a small laugh before pulling away to look at Myungjun properly.
(Myungjun didn't know why he was laughing.
Eunwoo left his bubble wand in the corner. And if he would have gotten it in time, he could do some serious damage.
Really.)
A tap at the side of his head got his attention back.
"Ow!"
He covered his head, putting his other arm up as defense against anymore surprise blows.
"What the-"
Before he could ask what the heck that was for, Jinwoo had walked straight past him towards their stereo system.
And suddenly the music was back on, starting from the top.
And so was Jinwoo.
And if Myungjun couldn't finish his sentence before, he really couldn't say anything now.
First off, let it be known that Kim Myungjun had a slight problem with the currently acknowledged dance line.
And at the moment, it was stepping, more like gliding, in front of him.
Rocky was passionate.
Bin was skilled.
Jinwoo was something entirely different.
Myungjun had been listening to this song for hours now, and Jinwoo moved to the same quick beat, with the same raw power, but made it fluid.
His arms pushed out, strain visible in his movement, even though something about the pose screamed control.
When he kicked off to land in the other direction, the motion of his leg was sharp, yet his landing, a second later, was impossibly still.
He had a gentle type of power. Strength in grace. His popping was smooth, and his jerking precise.
He was indescribable.
He was Park Jinwoo, simple as that.
Everything went black.
"What the-"
Any words he tried to speak were muffled by the towel now covering his face. Myungjun grabbed the cloth and threw it in Jinwoo's general direction.
Seriously, he was still older than this child. What was all this 'How Many Times Can I Hit Myungjun and Get Away with It' nonsense?
"Park Jinwoo, I swear I will-"
...
Could he please finish one sentence today?
He'd probably ask Jinwoo that question if he weren't currently standing in front of him, sans the jacket he came in, wearing one of Myungjun's old shirts.
He stood, wiping off stray beads of sweat that had appeared during the impromptu performance.
With the towel Myungjun threw.
Seriously.
"Well what was I supposed to do?" Jinwoo said, pulling Myungjun from his thoughts.
"You've been standing and staring at me for the last five minutes. Are you going to join in?
There was no malice in his voice. His smile was just as bright as when he first walked into the practice room.
Myungjun still wanted to sink into the floor.
He was very lucky he'd been dancing for several hours now, because there was no possible way the heat on his face could be healthy or discreet.
At the lack of response, Jinwoo raised an eyebrow.
"Are you tired? You know we can just go-"
Then Myungjun's legs were moving. The music was back on, and he was set in first position right beside Jinwoo.
With his face firm and set forward, Myungjun didn't see the smile on Jinwoo's face as he matched positions for the start.
Five minutes passed in a blur of melody and deep bass. After hours of nonstop practice, muscle memory guided Myunjun through the routine. He was able to just dance, putting all of himself into every movement.
(He didn't even look at Jinwoo once.
That was an achievement.)
Then the song ended, reverting the room back into its previous silence, which was broken fairly quickly.
Jinwoo clapped, possibly too loud for the time of night, but the smile on his face was almost louder.
"Hyung, that was amazing!"
Myungjun's eyes flicked towards Jinwoo, but were quick to dart away at the compliment. He walked towards the corner of the room, grabbing a towel of his own to busy himself and hide the redness once again betraying his face.
Usually, he was really good at banter, speaking in general. Coming up with a witty remark, usually to poke fun at a friend, was easy. Being obnoxiously greasy almost more so.
It was different with Jinwoo.
They were able to play off one another with no problems. They had great chemistry, so fan service was all too natural. And more than once, another member would have to separate the two before one tackled the other in the name of a play fight, just because they knew exactly how to push each others' buttons.
So maybe more specifically, it was his compliments.
(Partially because Park Jinwoo could really be the opposite of smooth sometimes; ergo when he tried to 'make a move' during a broadcast and promptly knocked his head on a more than solid tree prop.
Myungjun laughed the loudest; he also stayed up with Jinwoo all night, replacing his cold packs and making sure the idiot didn't concuss himself any further.)
It's just when he had that shine in his eye, and such a sincere tone in his voice, Myungjun got a little...speechless.
Not that Jinwoo should ever know that.
It took an unusually thorough wiping of sweat for Myungjun to look back at the blond.
His stalling didn't seem to do much though, as Jinwoo was still looking at him when he glanced back.
Myungjun wasn't sure if Jinwoo was getting the same awkward silence he felt, but it looked like it'd be his job to break it.
"Thank you." He said, looking more past Jinwoo than at him.
"I've been trying really hard on this routine."
Myungjun's body seemed to react subconsciously at the mention of the choreo, small movements mimicking the steps in the dance.
He paused at the lead up to the chorus, once again stuck on the same motion he'd been worried about the second he decided to stay longer.
"It's just this one move..." He trailed off, facing the mirror.
His feet pointed to one side, right leg pulling around to hold stiff behind the left. He bent forward, arms waving-
He collapsed on the ground, some miserable sound coming out from where his face met the floor.
He could hear the small crack in Jinwoo's breathing that meant he was trying, rather difficultly, not to laugh. Myungjun wasn't sure if he should be grateful or offended.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, staring at his image in the mirror as he tried to get his arms to move like he wanted.
But it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, his arm wave still looked like some subpar attempt to swat a fly.
He blamed Rocky. The footwork was already difficult for this part, and adding a whole new dance technique was not helping the situation.
He'd asked Rocky, Bin, even Sanha. He looked up videos. He watched himself intently, eyes tracking the smallest movements in his arms.
It just wasn't working.
Movement in his peripheral drew Myungjun's gaze away, from his own reflection to Jinwoo's. He'd taken it upon himself to show Myungjun the move properly.
His arm moved in one wave, sliding to the other arm effortlessly. The current continued, flowing through his torso in a gentle rhythm before ending. It seemed as if the movement just ebbed away into the wood below him.
Myungjun fell back, resting against the cool floor with a sigh.
"Show off."
He started to count the small cracks in the ceiling, eyes lingering at the one stain by the light fixture that Eunwoo and Bin refused to explain to the other members.
Myungjun's eyes widened as he felt himself raising up. The thought of fighting had just entered his mind when he was suddenly on his feet. Jinwoo's hands were still hooked around his arms where he'd pulled the other up from his slump on the floor.
"Here." Jinwoo's voice was soft in his ear.
His hands moved from Myungjun's upper arms, instead sliding down to hold gently onto either wrist.
Before Myungjun could protest, or squeak anything out of his sealed throat, he was moving again.
Familiar but different, his arms slid in a perfect recreation of the body behind him. Gentle urging spread the flow across his body and down his spine. By the time the move was over, a smooth five seconds if that, the heat of another person against his back was equal to the burn in his ears.
"That was great hyung."
Jinwoo's voice was quiet beside him. Still proud with the improvement of the move, but almost sedated.
Myungjun could only nod.
Jinwoo repeated the motion a few more times, guiding Myungjun from behind. He took a step back after a minute, motioning Myungjun to try the move on his own.
He did.
"Perfect."
And Jinwoo was back, arms now wrapping around Myungjun's waist in a celebratory hug. His head rested on the back of Myungjun's neck, mussed up hairs tickling at the skin.
To be honest, Myungjun couldn't tell if this was a dream or not. He couldn't tell if he'd remember the move tomorrow either, but it didn't really matter so long as he could remember this moment.
"Myungjun-ah." Jinwoo's small giggle caught his attention, enough to ignore the obvious drop in formality.
"Rocky's right; we haven't called you that in a while. I should do it more often."
It may have been Myungjun's sleep dulled senses, but he seemed to be hyper-focused on the vibration he could feel by Jinwoo's mouth.
With the success of the last move, Myungjun's mind seemed to switch off, and the adrenaline he'd been using went with it. He might actually drop to the floor if Jinwoo weren't holding him.
"I'm sorry."
Jinwoo's voice was suddenly really quiet. Not just volume quiet, but sad quiet, and Jinwoo should never be sad.
Myungjun's arms reacted before his mouth could, coming up from where they hung at his sides to hold tight over Jinwoo's arms on his front.
"I didn't mean to make you feel bad earlier. I was just trying to demonstrate; I'm-"
Myungjun felt cold.
He always did this.
Myungjun was just a little frustrated, which tended to come off as flippant when he spoke. He was usually a little sarcastic with his remarks, but he wasn't trying to accuse Jinwoo of anything bad. Never. He was so incredibly thankful for the help, and sometimes Myungjun just took little things too close to heart. Why did he always-?
Myungjun was really lucky that his actions spoke faster than his words, because his mind could really twist itself up sometimes.
He flipped himself around, catching a glimpse of Jinwoo's face before he buried his head into the other's shoulder. The fabric of the old shirt smelled like their detergent at home and a little bit like the body wash Myungjun lost. (Didn't Jinwoo say that Sanha took it?)
His arms squeezed tight with the strength left in his slowly tiring body.
Myungjun was good at speaking.
It was different with Jinwoo.
Sometimes the words just didn't come out right.
Maybe being so drunk with sleep would help him let go.
"'M'sorry" He mumbled, words running together as he cut off Jinwoo's babbling.
"No, I am. I just-"
Myungjun shushed the blond, lifting one hand to lightly cover the other's mouth.
"Shut your pretty mouth for a second, okay Jinwoo?"
There was a pause before Myungjun felt a nod, and he took his hand away.
He started again, eyes shut as he murmured a stream of consciousness into Jinwoo's ear.
"I was upset that I couldn't get the move. You were really helpful. You're always really helpful. And you're really good at dancing. You're always good at dancing. I wish I could dance like you. Do you think I'll be able to dance like you someday?"
Jinwoo took a breath to answer, but Myungjun plowed on, determined to reach some point in this mess of words.
"You're good, and you help me so I can be good. But it's hard, so I complained. But it came out mean, and I didn't want it to be mean. I'm sorry. You didn't do anything. Can you forgive me?"
Myungjun wasn't sure if that sentence made sense, if it could even be considered sentence. But if the tightening of Jinwoo's arms around him meant anything, maybe he was being forgiven.
Which was good, because Myungjun was going to drop in approximately ten seconds, so they needed to get home quick.
He may have attempted to express this thought to Jinwoo, because otherwise he can't really understand why he's being carried all of a sudden.
He wants to tell Jinwoo that he can walk himself home, thank you very much, but Jinwoo is really warm and smells nice, so maybe he'll just stay quiet.
He can feel Jinwoo's sweater, draped over his body like a blanket. He can also hear the door opening and closing. There's a slight chill in the air, and Myungjun can only assume they're outside, seeing as his eyes have decided to stay firmly shut.
The last thing he remembers is the calming feel of Jinwoo's thumb, back and forth along his shoulder, before he's fallen asleep completely.
//
Rocky wakes up suddenly. He's not quite sure what woke him, but he's ready to fight whoever it was, friend or intruder alike.
Except he can hear the front door opening and...maybe he should go grab Bin or something. He starts debating whether or not he'll be safe hidden under the blankets.
Why did he have to have to sleep outside tonight?
Well, if he has to die at the hands of some thief, it's still better than suffocating in the heat of their four person bedroom anyways.
But as the door opens, he can catch a glimpse of blond hair, reflecting light in the hallway. A muttered something–that totally sounded like a curse–is enough to tell him he shouldn't be scared.
"Hyung?" He whispers.
His response is a small bang, in the form of a body hitting the wall. A whispered shout–definitely a curse– follows with another noise, a small, pained groan.
The latter wasn't from Jinjin though. Because now he's gently shushing, like he's trying to calm someone down, and he wouldn't do that to himself.
He's not that weird.
Right?
Rocky props himself up on one arm, using the other to rub sleep from his eyes. When his sight adjusts to the dark, he can finally make out Jinjin's figure.
And he's carrying a baby?
A big baby.
But it can't be Sanha.
So...
"MJ Hyung fell asleep?"
This wasn't the first time MJ exhausted himself during one of his late-night practices. But from what Rocky could tell, this was the latest, and it seemed like the beagle had tired himself out completely for once.
It also seemed like Jinjin had enough waiting around for the eldest. He could only handle so many nights where the brunette would make his way back home, eyes only a hair's width from being shut.
Rocky's gotta give him some props. The walk from the studio to the dorms wasn't too long, but those stairs were something else.
Maybe he should start going to the gym with his hyung.
By some stroke of luck, Jinjin makes it through their shoe cluttered entryway without inflicting any further damage on himself or the person in his arms. He's about to enter their bedroom when Rocky clears his throat.
He did ask a question; he should get a response. For all he knows, Jinjin is toting back some MJ-sized person off the street.
Jinjin pauses for a second, stabilizing himself and readjusting his hold on Maybe-MJ-Hyung.
"Rocky?" Jinjin asks, attempting to peer down at him without loosing his balance.
"No hyung, it's Sanha." Rocky replies, deadpan.
Not waiting for a response, he questions, "Are you alright?"
Jinjin smiles, white just visible in the dark.
"I'm fine. I just need to get Myungjun into bed before my arms give out. Or legs."
Rocky doesn't have time for further questions because the word 'Myungjun' throws him off, long enough for Jinjin to wobble towards the bedroom and work out how to get the door open.
'Myungjun' makes another noise, something akin to a whine, which causes Jinjin to pause. He's shushing again, soft and soothing. And when even Rocky can see the scrunched up look in MJ's face, he hears humming.
It's some old, traditional song. The melody is sweet, and, from the first few notes, Rocky knows it's a lullaby.
MJ immediately calms down, breath evening out and head lolling towards Jinwoo's chest. It's still incredibly dark, so Rocky can't be sure, but he's sure enough that Jinjin's got some dumb smile on his face that almost makes Rocky sick with its fondness.
"You should tell him." He speaks without meaning to.
The tune comes to an abrupt halt, Jinjin looking so startled that he might just drop their comatose hyung on the floor.
Some stutter of words are attempting to form a sentence, but it seems like Rocky had shocked Jinjin into forgetting how late it was, because he wasn't being the quietest.
He puts up a hand, cutting off the noise.
"Look," Rocky says, looking about where Jinjin's eyes should be. "I'm not saying you have to, but maybe you should think about it?"
He makes it short, choosing not to mention how long they've been dancing around each other, or the countless heart eyes, or the others' betting pool.
Something about the silence tells him Jinjin already knows.
(Well, maybe not that last one.)
Jinjin stands still for a moment before nodding and turning back towards the bedroom.
Rocky smiles, calling out a brief, "If you don't tell him soon, I will!"
His reply is the sound of the door shutting.
Rocky thinks he might have helped both of them, just a little today.
That means he more than deserves to flop back into bed and get a couple more hours of rest.
He doesn't though.
He doesn't want to hurt Sanha after all.
Tufts of hair are just visible, poking out from under the blanket. He nudges the other, who barely moves but gives up a fraction of the blanket.
With a quick tug, Rocky's able to slip back under.
He thinks for a moment. Hopefully MJ Hyung won't be missing his cuddle partner tonight.
He glances over at Sanha. He can just make out the other's face in the lightened sky. His mouth is hanging open a smidge, and he seems to be getting closer, be it subconscious or not.
Oh well.
Rocky slips forward, letting Sanha rest his forehead on his chest. He tries to keep from fidgeting at the contact.
MJ Hyung will just have to find someone else, because Rocky thinks this might be a new thing.
Besides.
It looks like MJ will be getting a new partner pretty soon.
//
Jinwoo leans against the door, hearing it click close before taking a deep breath.
Not to make fun of Myungjun's weight or anything, but he really needs to put him down soon.
Jinwoo knows he won't be able to climb a ladder with both arms full, so he instinctively goes to lay Myungjun next to Sanha.
But he's not there?
Strange.
Both of them were among the cuddly type, so they'd taken to bunking together at night. Sanha had come back with everyone else, so he should be here and asleep by this time. He probably had problems sleeping without MJ hyung though, so...
Oh.
That's why Rocky's mattress was so lumpy.
Well then.
"Good for them." Jinwoo mumbles, crawling into the lower bunks to lay Myungjun down.
His hyung's hair is a wreck, fanning out over the pillow in a wild pattern. He also smells, having practiced for hours without showering afterwords. He didn't even get to change.
So Jinwoo can't figure out why he doesn't want to move away.
The sun is about to rise, and he really needs to get some sleep, so he reluctantly scoots back.
Except, Myungjun doesn't seem to be letting go.
For being practically dead with sleep, he's got a pretty firm grip on Jinwoo's shirt.
Well, maybe it's not that firm, but it's obvious enough that one hand is fisted in the fabric securely. And when Jinwoo holds Myungjun's hand to slowly pull it away, Myungjun only holds tighter, like a reflex. He lets his hand stay there a moment.
Myungjun is pretty affectionate, very touchy as a person.
And like he already mentioned, he's a bit of a cuddler.
So maybe if Sanha isn't here, he can just...substitute.
Jinwoo slides down, fighting the nerves that tell him to go back to his bed on top. When he's finally flat on the bed next to Myungjun, the other seems to know, body turning to fit in beside him. His head finds a place on Jinwoo's shoulder, legs tangling a bit. His grip never loosens.
Jinwoo freezes. He steadies his breathing.
After a moment, he slowly begins to reposition himself. Sliding an awkward arm over Myungjun's shoulder; the other finds place by Myungjun's hand in his shirt.
He's sure they don't look any different from MJ and Sanha when they're cuddled up together, but...
He's suddenly feeling very warm, and it's got nothing to do with their combined body heat.
The burning in his face aside, it's...pretty nice.
Jinwoo had never been averse to cuddling; he actually liked it. It just didn't happen often.
Maybe.
Maybe that'd change.
The sun finally rises as Jinwoo's eyes shut, lulled by the steady breathing beside him. His last fleeting thought is stuck on what Rocky said.
Maybe it's time.
Maybe he will say something.
Just, tomorrow.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face.