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1.
It’s not every day that Jeongin would get scolded during vocal lessons and dance lessons. Really, it’s just one of those off days. Every trainee has them. They’re only human, after all.
Still, it doesn’t feel any good. Jeongin barely stopped himself from bursting into tears when the instructor singled him out for standing out in the worst way possible. He was aware that the instructors are only harsh because they want them to do well, but it still sucked. He was in such a bad mood that he ended up making a mistake during vocal lessons as well.
Overall, Jeongin just wanted to go home. He’s tired and frustrated and he just wanted the day to end so he can get some rest.
“Jeongin-ah!”
Jeongin turned around from where he’d been glaring at the vending machines to find Lee Minho walking towards him. “Minho hyung,” he greeted. “How have you been?”
“Good, good.” Minho patted his shoulder, gesturing to the vending machines. “Were you getting anything?”
“Just water, but—”
“Hyung will pay.” Minho quickly inserted his card into the slot, pressing a few buttons before Jeongin could protest. He handed Jeongin a large bottle of water with a smile. “Do you have any more classes?”
Jeongin took the water bottle and shook his head. “I just finished my vocal lessons.”
“Nice, okay. Do you want to practice with me?”
“Practice?”
“Dance,” Minho clarified. “I noticed you were having trouble during lessons earlier. I wanted to help.”
While it has been a month or so since Minho first arrived, the two of them haven’t really talked much. Minho’s growing reputation of being a trainee to look out for when it came to dancing doesn’t make him very approachable. Not to mention Jeongin’s already pretty shy in the first place. It doesn’t make sense for Minho to offer to help.
“Why?”
“Because I want to help,” Minho said. “Practicing with other people helps me learn too. It’s a win-win situation, really.”
Jeongin blinked. That actually made a lot of sense. “Oh,” he said, “okay. That sounds great. Thank you.”
They made their way to an empty practice room, and Minho put on a random song on the speakers while they went through their stretches. “I’m gonna record you going through the choreography first, so we can monitor properly,” he explained while the two of them stretched. “Your dance lines were a little all over the place earlier, which is probably why you stood out. We’ll polish that later.”
It’s nice, having Minho as a teacher. Minho’s strict and meticulous, but also very kind in the way he delivered instructions. He never raised his voice, always so gentle in the way he pointed out the things Jeongin was doing wrong. He patiently guided Jeongin through the choreography without a single complaint.
“See? It’s a lot cleaner compared to the first one,” Minho pointed out while they were watching the second video that Minho recorded. He playfully ruffled Jeongin’s hair. “Just remember what hyung taught you and you’ll be fine.”
Remember what hyung taught you, Jeongin thought with a smile. “Okay,” he said, feeling lighter than he did in a while. “I’ll remember.”
2.
To Jeongin’s surprise, Minho continued to invite him to practice together.
“It’s just more efficient,” Minho said as they went through their stretches. Jeongin has come to realize that Minho can be very talkative when he wanted to be. “We both get to learn from each other. Plus isn’t it lonely to practice on your own? The practice rooms are so big.”
Jeongin’s always thought that trainees preferred to practice alone. “I heard the practice rooms for the debuted artists are bigger. The speakers are better, too.”
“Well, we should probably debut then.” The music switched to the one they were learning during the lessons. Minho gestured for Jeongin to get in position. “Up and at ‘em!”
The choreography is easier to learn this time. It’s interesting to think how it only took a few practice sessions with Minho for Jeongin to sort of get the hang of the dancing aspect of the trainee life.
“Okay, look here.” They were huddled together in front of Minho’s phone while the recording of Jeongin’s first run through of the choreography was playing. It became a routine to record the befores and afters of their practice. “Your form is a little stiff. Not only does it look awkward, but you’ll end up hurting yourself if you continue dancing like that.”
Jeongin let Minho guide him into a better form, listening properly whenever Minho explained something, and making sure to memorize the proper forms that Minho showed so he can copy it later. He remembered to apply what Minho taught him about dance lines from their earlier practices, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased while watching himself dance through the mirror.
“Better. So much better.” Minho locked his phone and patted Jeongin on the back. “You learn pretty fast.”
Jeongin grinned. “That’s only because I have a good teacher.”
“No need to flatter me, Jeongin-ah.” There was a light shade of pink on Minho’s ears. “Anyway, it’s still early. Do you mind if I go over a choreography I was working on first? You can rest for a bit and I’ll help you again after.”
There is absolutely no way that Jeongin will pass off an opportunity to watch Lee Minho dance. “That sounds good, hyung.”
Jeongin learned two things while watching Minho dance.
One: The rumors surrounding Minho were not only true, but were definitely played down. Minho is easily one of the best dancers of the current batch of trainees.
Two: Jeongin wanted to be as good of a dancer as Minho one day.
“Okay, I’m done,” Minho called out, shaking his sweaty bangs off his face. “Do you want to go through another choreography?”
Jeongin beamed, excited at being able to learn from the best of the best, and moved to stand up.
3.
“Hyung?” Jeongin peeked into the room, eyes landing on Minho rolling around on the bed. “Uh. Are you busy?”
Minho just laughed and propped himself on his elbows. “Just the usual boredom,” he said. “What’s up, Innie?”
Jeongin fiddled with his fingers. It took him a while to get the courage to seek Minho out like this, and yet now that he’s here, he couldn’t seem to make himself say what he wanted to say. “Uh—”
“I’m not busy.” Minho said immediately, as if he could read what Jeongin’s mind. There was an encouraging smile on his face.
“I was— uh. Wondering if you could help me go over the choreography.” Jeongin kept his eyes anywhere but Minho’s face. “I was monitoring our fancams a few days ago and I didn’t— I didn’t really like how I performed. At all. I don’t know what I was doing wrong but—”
Minho placed both of his hands on Jeongin’s shoulder. Jeongin didn’t even noticed that Minho stood up and made his way across the room. “Breathe,” he said. “I get it. It’s fine. Give me a few minutes to change.”
Later, when they arrived at the company and finished stretching, Minho quickly made his way to the front of the room with his phone in his hand. “Dance as you always do,” he said. “We’ll go over this and your fancams after you finish, so we can figure out what you’re doing wrong.”
It’s been a while since Jeongin had one-on-one practice with Minho. With their debut and all the non-stop schedules that came with it, there wasn’t much time to practice on their own outside the group practices. They did, however, had more than enough time to monitor themselves through the individual fancams that the music shows released, which is the whole reason why Jeongin came to Minho in the first place.
Jeongin may have improved drastically from pre-debut, but there is still so much for him to learn.
“Your energy isn’t properly spread throughout the performance,” Minho said after they finished monitoring. “You’re not supposed to put your 100% when dancing such high-energy choreography. You’ll get tired faster, and your movements in the later parts will look sloppier and more uncoordinated.”
As always, practicing with Minho still felt like a breath of fresh air. Sure, Jeongin loved their choreographers and dance instructors, but he always felt like his capacity to learn is maximized when Minho is the one teaching him. He never worried about making a mistake because he knows Minho will never use those mistakes against him.
Minho nudged his shoulder, pointing at the recording playing on his phone. “You can tell the difference, right?”
“Hyung, you’re a miracle worker,” Jeongin blurted out. He’s a little awed with how much better his performance looked after a few hours with Minho.
“What can I say? I’m just perfect like that,” Minho joked. He exited the video and locked his phone, falling onto his back on the floor and closing his eyes, voice considerably softer when he said, “I hope you know that you can always ask me for help, Innie-yah.”
Jeongin blinked, turning to face Minho who wasn’t even looking at him, and something about that felt oddly intimate. “I know,” he said. “Hyung always takes such good care of me.”
4.
After taking Minho’s advice both inside and outside the practice rooms, Jeongin liked to think that he’s improved tremendously in the past few years. Gone are the days where he often felt mediocre in comparison to the other members when it came to the dance aspect of their career. As a result, dancing has become a lot more fun to him now, and he’s incredibly proud of himself.
“The foot thing—” Felix made a gesture of the move he was referring to. “Innie, can you—”
Jeongin nodded, watching himself intently through the mirror as he did the move. He definitely felt like he was doing something wrong but he couldn’t really—
“There’s a reason why you can’t move!” Minho suddenly yelled. Jeongin could only laugh in response, well aware that Minho isn’t really mad at him. “Do it again!”
After doing the move again, it finally it him. “Ah!” He excitedly turned to face Minho. “I need to use my left leg!”
“Exactly,” Minho exclaimed. “Do you want me to do it with you.”
Jeongin immediately blurted out, “Of course, you have to do it with me!”
“Ah, this kid.” Minho turned to face Felix, who was busy laughing at both of them. “What am I supposed to do with him?”
One thing about Lee Minho is that he will complain and complain and complain about doing something for the members but he will still end up doing it no matter what. Minho continuously whined to Felix about Jeongin’s inability to practice without him but still stood up to go over the choreography with Jeongin again. It’s just how he is. Jeongin is so thankful for him.
Earlier, while they were waiting for Felix to finish practicing his solo parts, Minho offered to record Jeongin going over the choreography first. “So we can work on the parts you’re having a bit of difficulty with. It’ll be a while before Felix gets here, anyway,” Minho explained. By the time Felix arrived, Jeongin managed to polish a good chunk of the choreography already, and Jeongin could properly focus on the three of them practicing together.
Practice went smoothly, as usual. It was exhausting, for the most part, but Jeongin had a lot of fun. Dancing with his members — with Minho — is always fun.
“You’re really cool,” Jeongin said after Minho went through the other song that they were going to practice, feeling a little starstruck. It’s been years and he still can’t seem to get over just how talented Minho really is. “How are you always so cool?”
Minho looked taken aback for a moment, before a soft expression came across his face. “Thanks, Innie-yah.” He crossed the room to pinch Jeongin’s cheeks. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Stop!” Jeongin swatted his hands away, laughing when Minho started tickling him. “Stop— Hyung—”
Felix chose this exact moment to burst into the room with their refilled water bottles in his arms. “Okay—” He blinked, confusion crossing his pretty features as he watched them wrestle on the couch. “What are you guys doing?”
“Just a little break.” Minho finally stopped, throwing a wink in Jeongin’s direction before making his way to where Felix still stood frozen by the door. “Thanks for the water, Yongbok-ah! Five more minutes and we’ll go over the next song.”
Jeongin rolled off the couch with a laugh and went to grab his water as well.
5.
For whatever reason, Jeongin always found himself at the dance practice rooms even during blank periods.
He doesn't practice. Not really. Most of the time he'd just lie down on the couch and decompose. Sometimes he'd listen to music from the speakers. Sometimes he'd just scroll on his phone in silence. He doesn't know how to explain it, but there's no place more comforting and more relaxing to him than the four walls of the practice room.
“Oh. So this is where you've been hiding,” a voice from the doorway remarked.
Jeongin lifted his head from where it's been lolling over the couch to find Minho staring at him. “Weren't you at Gimpo?”
“Just got back,” Minho explained, making his way across the room to join Jeongin on the couch. “Channie hyung and the others were looking for you.”
“Ah. I was just here.”
“I could tell.”
Today was one of the days where Jeongin didn't play anything on the speakers. Minho seemed to understand and didn't bother continuing the conversation. This is one of the many things Jeongin liked about Minho — he always knew what to say and what not to say.
“Wanna practice?” Minho wasn't even looking at Jeongin, too busy watching cat videos on his phone.
No expectations. Asking for the sake of asking. “Sure,” Jeongin replied, already heading towards the computers. “What song?”
They run through some simple stuff after stretching. Nothing too strenuous — they're still on break, after all — but just enough to get their bodies moving. It's nice. They laughed a lot.
“Is there anything in particular that I need to work on?” Jeongin asked after a few minutes of playing around.
Minho immediately went to grab his phone, gesturing for Jeongin to get in the middle of the room. “Let's see.”
They moved to the couch after Minho finished recording and huddled around Minho's phone. For the first time in a long time, Jeongin monitored himself and felt like he did really great. There's always room for improvement, sure, but he really, wholeheartedly thought that he's a pretty good dancer now.
“There's nothing in particular that stands out. You did really well.” To hear Minho echo his sentiments made something warm settle in Jeongin's stomach. “Although you could use a bit more confidence.”
Jeongin tilted his head in confusion. “Confidence?”
“You need to come on that stage and show that you own it, and that no one else can take it away from you.” Minho set aside his phone and went to the middle of the room, loosely stretching his limbs as the next song began to play from the speakers. “Like this.”
There was always something so mesmerizing about watching Minho dance. It wasn’t even a particularly complicated choreography, hardly one of Minho’s bests, and yet Jeongin could barely keep his eyes away. Every single move of Minho’s body, every single change in his facial expressions, everything he did with the music commanded attention.
“Don’t be afraid to add a little texture with your dancing too. Play around a bit. The music, the performance, the stage — all of it is yours.” Minho shook the sweat in his hair away and went to grab a water bottle. “Don’t ever forget that, and you’ll become a great dancer in the future. You’re already well on your way there, anyway.”
The thing about Minho is that he’s always been generous about compliments. None of these words of his are new, and yet Jeongin felt the back of his eyes begin to sting anyway.
“Ah,” Jeongin said around the lump in his throat, “thank you, hyung. You have way too much faith in me.”
Minho flopped back on the couch and bumped his arm with Jeongin. “And you need to have faith in yourself too,” he said. “You’re doing well, Innie-yah. Really well.”
1.
In hindsight, Jeongin should’ve seen this coming.
He liked to think that he’s pretty self aware compared to the average person. Whenever he felt that his mood began to sour for whatever reason, he knew to create some distance between him and the people he cared about, lest he end up saying something he didn’t mean. He approached his emotions with utmost care, noticing the threads of frustration begin to tangle before anyone else had the chance to, and gently untangling them on his own so he doesn’t need to ask anyone for help.
Strictly speaking, he should’ve noticed these feelings beforehand, should’ve stopped himself when the admiration began to transition into downright adoration. He’s not stupid, and yet he can’t really believe how dense he’s gotten over the years. Although Hyunjin did mention something about love having the tendency to cloud one’s senses before.
Wait, love?
“You dance like Minho,” Chan offhandedly mentioned after stealing glances at Jeongin’s phone.
Jeongin paused the video Minho recorded of him practicing the other day. “Huh?” He turned to face Chan, heart thundering in his chest at the implications of what Chan said. “What do you mean, hyung?”
“Just—” Chan made a gesture that definitely did not explain anything. “You adopted some of his dancing styles and techniques— not in a bad way, obviously! It makes sense, really, since he’s the one who helped you the most since predebut.”
“It’s honestly kind of cute,” Felix added from where he’d been sitting on Chan’s other side.
Jeongin’s mouth gaped open. “You noticed, too?”
“Duh.” Felix gave him a look. “Minho hyung noticed it too. He mentioned it a couple times before. He thought you were cute.”
Jeongin kind of wanted to turn off his brain immediately. “I think I need to go to the bathroom.”
“You do that,” Chan said, unhelpfully ruffling his hair. “Don’t think too much about it, Innie. You’ll give yourself a headache.”
The thing about dancing is that dancers have the tendency to incorporate the skills and style of the people around them into their own. Every dancer is a sum of all the dancers they’ve danced with, the dancers they’ve learned from, and the dancers that they’ve watched throughout their journey. It’s just how the art worked — you absorb everything you’ve known and turn it into something that is uniquely yours.
Jeongin has always admired Minho as a dancer, always looked up to him, and always strived to reach even a fraction of his skills. Minho is good, downright perfect at his art, and Jeongin has always wanted to dance like him.
It’s why he made sure to listen intently whenever Minho taught him things, why he tried his best to replicate the way Minho did certain moves, why he couldn’t help but track Minho’s every move whenever Minho danced—
Ah.
“Innie?” A voice called out from the hallway. “What are you doing here?”
Jeongin turned around and found Minho looking at him oddly.
To become a mirror of someone’s dancing is to—
“Hyung,” Jeongin blurted out, too desperate for an answer to even worry about what he’s laying out in the open, “did you know I liked you? That I like you?”
Minho blinked, seemingly processing what Jeongin had said, before an amused expression crossed his face. “Of course I did. Of course I do,” he said. “I monitor your performances a lot.”
“Right.” Jeongin tucked his shaking hands around his back. “And how do you feel about that?”
The smile on Minho’s face has not wavered one bit, although it looked a bit softer now, less amused and more endeared. “Very good, actually.” He patted Jeongin’s very warm cheek. “It’s nice having my feelings reciprocated.”
“Oh, good—” Jeongin froze. “Wait, what?”
Minho laughed, loud and unabashed. “Exactly what you heard,” he said. “Now, move over. You’re blocking the bathroom.”
“Wait, hyung—”
“I’ll see you at the practice room later, Innie-yah.” Minho ignored him, already entering the bathroom. “Don’t think too much about it.”
Jeongin is left alone in the hallway, cheeks flaming and heart quite literally about to beat out of his chest. He’s not entirely sure what happened, but he’s pretty sure he just had the most embarrassing conversation of his life.
It’s nice having my feelings reciprocated.
Jeongin shook his head, making his way to his bedroom to change into clothes that were more appropriate for dance practice, all the while trying to stop himself from smiling like some idiot.