It starts just as winter is settling in, ice dousing everything in a faint layer of white.

Kim Joonmyun is late leaving his university, after a gruelling day of late afternoon classes and then being asked to stay overtime in the library where he works, and he’s missed his bus. It’s cold, too cold, but Joonmyun can’t afford to wait the hour for the next one to come, so he warms his hands in his red gloves, tucks his head a bit further into his gold-knitted scarf, and heads home.

He’s never walked home before, and it’s so different from being on the bus. The trees look sturdy up close, rather than the frail miserable husks he thinks they look like from the warmth of the bus. The street past his university is empty of people, and he knows that they will be safely in cars or buses, away from the chill.

There’s a dance studio down this road, and he’s never been inside before. Joonmyun doesn’t dance. He admires people who can, and do, but his limbs are the wrong shape for it and he always ends up tripping over his feet.

But it’s cold, and Joonmyun wonders if they’ll give him a cup of coffee if he bats his eyelashes, knowing that all the late-night coffee shops are probably shut already.

He is walking quickly towards the front entrance when movement through one of the wintry windows catches his eye, and he stops, turning to look.

There’s a boy dancing. Joonmyun can’t see his features clearly through the glass, but he can tell that he’s tall, with dark hair, and he’s moving quickly across the floor. Joonmyun can’t tell if he’s dancing well, but he thinks that he must be, because his movements are somehow both fluid and crisp. Joonmyun watches him dance for a few moments, somewhat awestruck, having completely forgotten his reason for heading over in the first place.

There’s something about the movements of the boy that sink into his skin, pierce his soul. This is a boy who is working hard, Joonmyun realises. He’s doing whatever he can to work, to do his best.

Joonmyun feels uplifted by this realisation, and he turns and heads home, the thought of the boy’s dance in his head.




The next day, Joonmyun leaves at his usual time, but instead of waiting for the bus with Lu Han, he waves goodbye to him.

“I’m going to walk home,” he says when Lu Han looks after him in horror.

“You’ll freeze!” Lu Han tells him, sounding far too much like Joonmyun’s mother for his own good, and Joonmyun shrugs and shows him the pair of mittens he has in his pockets. Lu Han shakes his head but wishes him off like a good hyung.

Joonmyun had spent the whole evening thinking about the dancer, and then he had the best sleep he’s had for months. Part of him needs to see him again, so he’d made a plan: he’ll go and see when the boy starts dancing, and he’ll watch him for a little while.

Joonmyun is aware it sounds creepy, but he can’t help it. The boy just made him feel better.

He walks down the road until he gets to the dance studio, and then he peers into the window, trying to be casual about it. There’s a dance class in there, and he can’t spot the boy among them. Admittedly, he doesn’t know what the boy looks like, but none of the boys in the room are tall enough.

Joonmyun feels his shoulders sink a little. He’s a good three hours earlier than he was yesterday, though, so he’s not really surprised the boy isn’t there.

He moves forward, intending on walking straight by, but, by chance, he looks in the other window, the one on the other side of the door, and he spots a familiar silhouette against the far wall, one of his legs up against the barre along the wall.

The weather isn’t quite so cold today, so Joonmyun can see that the boy is tanned, and he’s dressed in a t-shirt and shorts which cling to his skin with sweat. His hair droops into his eyes and for a strange moment Joonmyun wants to push it away, before he shakes the thought away.

The boy pulls away from the barre and begins to dance. It’s different from the previous night, as the boy is doing ballet, and Joonmyun is sure that he was doing something else yesterday. But there’s no doubting that it’s the same boy, because the way he moves is the same, and his movements raise Joonmyun’s spirits the same, filling him with joy at what he’s seeing.

He only allows himself to stay for three minutes, but that’s enough.




It becomes a routine. Joonmyun leaves university, walks back in the cold, decked in several pairs of gloves, a thick undershirt and his duffel coat, and watches the boy dance. He never goes on weekends, just on days when he has classes or work in the afternoons or evenings. The boy is always there, no matter what time of day he’s there.

It works for a while, at least two weeks where Joonmyun holds himself to watching for only a couple of minutes, but then the urge to watch the boy grows, and Joonmyun realises he wants to watch for longer. He wants to watch one of the boy’s routines the whole way through. He thinks he may cry if that were to happen, and he’s sure he’d be far more conspicuous then, but he can’t help it.

He’s not sure how the boy hasn’t seen him before now, considering all he does is stand outside the window, but he doesn’t want to look a gift-horse in the mouth. He’s quite grateful that nobody has noticed him.

He reaches breaking point in late December, and, wrapped up in a black scarf, coat and gloves, trying to conceal himself as much as possible in the darkness outside the window, Joonmyun watches for a full ten minutes before he’s able to tug himself away. He thinks it’s possibly his imagination, but the boy danced much better today. He seemed completely on point the whole way through his dance.

Joonmyun thinks he would pay the boy to dance for him, and he would pay to be the only one he dances for, too.




After two months, excepting weekends, of this routine, Joonmyun realises that calling the boy ‘the boy’ is kind of creepy, and he can’t really explain his routine to anyone without sounding like a stalker (which…he probably is). So he decides to give the boy a name.

It takes him an afternoon, but ultimately it’s when watching the boy dance, a swift, hard-hitting hip-hop routine, that the name hits him. “Kai,” he breathes aloud. It even oozes cool.

And from that moment onwards, if someone asks him where he’s going, he just says he’s going to see Kai, which sounds infinitely less creepy.




It’s February quickly and Joonmyun has finished his university year. Watching Kai dance has given him so much strength, and he’s passed all his assignments and exams with straight As. Lu Han glares in jealousy at him when he sees Joonmyun’s grades, muttering something about lucky charms.

Joonmyun heads to the dance studio immediately, to watch Kai as a reward. Now his exams are finished with he can’t really think of a lot of excuses to come and watch him dance anymore, aside from the fact that he just likes watching Kai dance.

But when he gets there, Kai isn’t there.

He’s been there every single time Joonmyun’s gone past, but today he’s not in either of the windows. Joonmyun knows there are plenty of dance rooms, but something tells him that Kai isn’t there.

It’s like the wind’s been kicked out of his sails on purpose, and his wide smile droops to a sad one. He turns away from the studio, beginning to walk home.

He hears voices dimly behind him, a couple of boys leaving through the entrance, but he doesn’t pay them any mind until one of them grabs his wrist.

He turns to find two boys, one about Joonmyun’s height with brown hair over one eye and copious amounts of eyeliner making his eyes look striking, and the other taller, with dark hair, tanned skin and thick-rimmed glasses concealing his bags under his eyes. Joonmyun doesn’t recognise either of them, but he stops obediently when the shorter boy tugs on him.

“You’re Suho!” he says, beaming. “Oh wow, I thought he was making it up—but no, he wasn’t!”

Joonmyun looks at him, and furrows his brows when he hears the name. Suho? Guardian? Guardian of what?

“Um,” he says, “I think you might have made a mistake. I’m Joonmyun, I’m just—” He lifts his hand to point behind him, the universal sign of leaving.

“You were looking for Jongin, right?” the short boy’s taller companion asks.

Joonmyun feels confused for a moment, before he says, “Oh—Kai? Yeah,” and then instantly realises what he’s done; he’s told the boy’s—friends, maybe?—about his name for the boy.

The shorter of the two’s eyes sparkle. “Kai!” he says, beaming. “Tao, that’s perfect—Jongin will be so happy.”

Tao, the taller boy, smiles just as widely as his friend. “Kai suits him perfectly,” he says, and then turns to smile at Joonmyun. “You’ve just solved a problem, thank you, Suho-sshi.”

“Joonmyun,” Joonmyun repeats, but Tao and his friend are clearly not paying his protests any attention.

“He’s not coming in today,” the shorter boy says. “I wanted to tell you so you didn’t get upset. He’s fine, he’s just busy. He should be back tomorrow.”

It’s slow, but it’s sinking in. Joonmyun freezes. “You mean you knew—?” he mumbles.

“We think you’re Jongin’s good luck charm,” Tao says, “me and Baekhyun.” He indicates the shorter boy. “He’s been doing so much better since you started walking by. He tries much harder. So we call you Suho.”

Joonmyun doesn’t really know what to make of this. They can’t possibly be each other’s lucky charms. “That’s not possible,” he says. “He’s probably just doing better anyway. It’s not because of me.”

Baekhyun and Tao give each other a look. “No,” Tao says, “I’m pretty sure it’s because of you, Suho-sshi.”

And then, a moment later, there’s a shout of, “Baekhyun! Zitao!” and the boys say their goodbyes and run back inside, leaving Joonmyun alone and confused.




Joonmyun tells Lu Han during lunch the next day.

“I don’t understand,” Joonmyun mumbles, and for once his trademark smile is missing. He picks at his rice, frowning.

“Stop playing with your food,” Lu Han orders, smacking the back of his hand with his chopsticks. “I knew they were going to notice you sooner or later. At least they don’t seem bothered by it.”

Joonmyun moans somewhat pathetically. “Hyung,” he whines.

“Just go there again today. They said he’ll be there, right? Go and watch him and I’m sure everything will settle again.”

So Joonmyun does. He stands outside the window and waits for Kai (Jongin?) to arrive.

He’s only a few moments after Joonmyun. He’s wearing a white vest with a large badge pinned to the front, and he keeps fussing with it, smiling to himself. When he turns towards Joonmyun, head still turned away, Joonmyun reads, “카이,” and his heart swells with something like pride, or admiration.

Kai begins to dance, and it’s a routine Joonmyun’s never seen before. Joonmyun thinks it looks a bit like a serenade, if you can serenade with a dance. He tries to shove the thought out of his mind, but he can’t. The dance is clearly romantic, the knowledge flooding his consciousness.

At the end of the dance, Kai turns towards the windows, and Joonmyun all but flings himself to the ground before he’s seen.

He stays there for a good few minutes, heart pounding in his chest, breath coming quickly. He claps a hand to his chest and shuts his eyes, trying to calm his breathing.

Kai knows; is all he can think. And he was doing that for me.

But Joonmyun can’t work out if Kai’s feelings are sincere or mocking from one dance, and he’s not sure he wants to find out, because he doesn’t want everything to break.

He’s still sitting there when Baekhyun finds him. “Suho-sshi,” he says, and loops his arm through Joonmyun’s, dragging him away from the window. When they’re out of Kai’s sight, Baekhyun stands him up and brushes his hands over him, batting leaves and dust off him.

Joonmyun lets him, feeling numb.

Then Baekhyun leads him into the building. It’s warm, a large difference from the chill outside. The walls are a warm cream, the doors thick wood with glass panels in them. Baekhyun leads Joonmyun over to the first one, opens it, and shoves him inside unceremoniously.

Joonmyun steadies himself on the wall noisily. He’s inside the room he can see from the front of the building, the room Kai is dancing in.

He’s doing pirouettes and it’s even more breath-taking up close. Joonmyun feels him smile grow as the joy of watching Kai dance up close spreads through him, warming his soul, his veins.

Finally, Kai stops, and he turns to look at Joonmyun for the first, real, time. Joonmyun finds himself looking into to a pair of soulful, affectionate, smiling eyes.

“I’m Kai,” Kai says, with a smile, and holds his hand out for Joonmyun to take, western-style.

His eyes tell Joonmyun to play along, so Joonmyun holds his hand out. “Suho,” he says, and he smiles in return.

Kai pauses for a moment, eyes focused on his smile, before dipping down to kiss Joonmyun’s hand. Joonmyun feels his heart flutter a little like a girl in one of his mother’s romance novels. “It’s a pleasure to meet you after so long,” he says.

Joonmyun blushes dark red. “I’m sorry—” he begins, not entirely sure what he’s going to say but feeling that he should apologise anyway, for something, for being a stalker, for not showing himself earlier, but he’s stopped by Kai darting in quickly and pressing his mouth against his, and then there’s nothing for Joonmyun to do except kiss back, hard, fiercely, as active in the kiss as Kai. Kai presses him against the wall, and then Joonmyun’s hands are in Kai’s hair and his are gripping tightly onto Joonmyun’s hips and Joonmyun feels himself come apart, but in a good way.

Joonmyun doesn’t think anything. He doesn’t think that he’s not supposed to be gay, he doesn’t think that this is probably going to come back to bite him later on, he doesn’t think—he doesn’t think. He just does. He kisses Kai back until they’re both panting and out of breath and they have to pull away to breathe. Kai rests his forehead against Joonmyun’s and Joonmyun can feel little puffs of warm air against his skin, and he smiles.

Kai pulls back with a smile on his face, and then he bows his head. “I’m Kim Jongin,” he says, giving the truth this time, “and I think you are a good luck charm.”

“Funny,” Joonmyun can hear himself say, “I thought you were one, too.” When he sees the look Kai—Jongin—gives him, he shakes his head. “Kim Joonmyun,” he introduces himself, and he bows.

“I got into university yesterday,” Jongin (it’s weird to think of him as Jongin, after so long) says, smiling toothily. “It’s a dance university. I thought of you, how I dance for you, how it always makes me feel better, how I dance better. I used the stage name you gave me to apply, and they said they liked it, that it suited me.” He pauses, bites his lower lip until it’s full and plump and still red from their kiss. “I was going to come and tell you.”

“Your dancing,” Joonmyun shoots out, “it’s—it’s amazing, so I’m not surprised. I—I’ve got straight As since I first saw you.”

Jongin reaches out to take his hand. “Do you think it’ll go away now we’ve met?” he asks, and for the first time since Joonmyun saw him, all those months ago, he looks nervous, unsure, shy.

“I hope not,” Joonmyun says, and he leans up to kiss Jongin again.




Their relationship grows slowly. At first it’s just quiet dates around the dance studio. They both have some time now Jongin’s got into university and Joonmyun’s year is coming to an end, which suits them perfectly, but there aren’t really a lot of places they can think of to go.

After a week, Baekhyun and Tao finally cotton onto the fact that Joonmyun isn’t merely stalking Jongin anymore, and they insist on becoming friends with their friend’s new boyfriend, which Joonmyun has no problem with. He decides to return the favour and takes them to meet Lu Han.

“Everyone, this is Lu Han, Lu Han, this is Jongin, Baekhyun and Zitao,” he introduces over lunchtime.

Lu Han is the picture of complete innocence until they’ve all gone back to the studio, Jongin pecking at Joonmyun’s lips before he goes, when the older boy turns to Joonmyun and says, “Damn, I’m jealous you got there first. I can see why you like him.” He leers.

Joonmyun isn’t even offended. He merely beams at Lu Han, teeth showing through, eyes crinkling. Jongin is hot, and he knows it (and Jongin knows it—or at least Kai knows it). Through his smile, Joonmyun says, “Just wait until you see him dance,” and laughs.