0.

Jinyoung doesn’t believe in love. At least, not for himself. He’s seen the way others love, knows it in theory, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to love. Not for long, anyway. No matter how strong his initial feelings are, he always loses interest eventually.

So he gives up. He gives up looking, he gives up dating.

He gives up on love.

I.

Jinyoung doesn’t expect to see Yugyeom. To be fair, Yugyeom doesn’t look like he had expected Jinyoung to be the new choreographer either. Too bad. Life . He’ll learn to deal with it.

(Whether he’s referring to himself or Yugyeom, Jinyoung isn’t sure.)

“Park Jinyoung-ssi,” Yugyeom says after a while. They can only ignore each other for so long. Jinyoung’s here to assist Yugyeom in a dance choreography for the graduating students in the school, and it’s work after all. They can be professional.

“Kim Yugyeom-ssi. Nice to see you again. It’s been a few years now, hasn’t it?”

“Five,” Yugyeom mutters under his breath, and Jinyoung pretends he doesn’t hear it. He walks to the CD player and takes out the disc inside. It’s Daft Punk. Instant crush. Just one song.

How appropriate.

II.

Yugyeom’s a better dancer now than he remembers. Jinyoung’s mature enough to admit it’s envy (and a bit of jealousy) he’s feeling right now, as Yugyeom demonstrates the 4 bars of dance he’s already put together while Jinyoung had been late. The moves are fluid, deceivingly simple but requiring a lot of technique to do.

“Don’t you think it’s too much for the students to learn?”

Yugyeom takes his comment with more grace than Jinyoung would (hadn’t he always?). His already slightly sweaty hair flops when he nods, modifying the moves mid-step to something more manageable. Jinyoung just remains where he is, by the CD player. It’s only when he’s bringing his hands up to robotically clap does he realize he had left the CD still around his index finger.

He removes it, then walks over to Yugyeom. Without a word, he mimics Yugyeom’s moves earlier, but instead of ending it after 4 bars, Jinyoung adds another 2 bars of choreography. Yugyeom takes it in, repeats the 6 bars and adds another 2. They don’t talk.

But they get roughly half the dance choreographed anyway.

III.

Yugyeom used to stick to him when they first met. That was a really long time ago, before Yugyeom realized how well he could dance, and the little boy then had looked up to Jinyoung practicing his moves on an empty basketball court. The man in front of him now couldn’t be further from the little boy he had known, but then again, Jinyoung isn’t exactly the same person he used to be either.

For one, they’re both better dancers now. Yugyeom got smoother, Jinyoung more precise, but somehow they still know how to work around each other’s choreography choices. They spend an hour revising the first half of the dance they had made, still not speaking, just wordlessly responding to the other’s movements.

When they stop dancing, Jinyoung s his bag, digging around for a towel, but before he finds it, Yugyeom dumps a fresh one on top of his bag and leaves the room.

The gesture is oddly familiar, and Jinyoung’s hit by the sudden realization that maybe he’s the only one who had changed.

IV.

M