ix.

Chanyeol was dancing so much now that when he took off his shoes at night, he would find blisters on his feet — little bubbles that wept and oozed and stuck to his socks. He went to bed with aching muscles, and his clothes were a bit looser than they were before, but he was always smiling. He couldn’t see that he was always smiling, and it was so natural to him now that he barely noticed he was doing it, but he could tell because people he met with during the day — clients and music students, friends and colleagues alike — all asked him why he was always in such a cheery mood lately. Wanting to keep his reasons to himself, Chanyeol’s reply was always something along the lines of, “well, why not?”

Because dancing was such a huge part of his life now, he dreamed about it fairly often. Sometimes he dreamed about dancing with Baekhyun, sometimes he didn’t; but somehow he always felt Baekhyun’s presence, even if he couldn’t see his face. Nightmares still came, but they were fewer and farther between, outnumbered by the dreams, and Chanyeol found that waking up feeling happy for no particular reason wasn’t such a rare occurrence anymore.

Now that they were spending so much time together, his relationship with Baekhyun had evolved as well, in a number of ways. He was a little harder on Chanyeol than he’d been at the start: probably thought he could handle it, now that they were friends and had been dancing with each other for a while. Their practicing routine had since extended to weekends as well, whenever they both had time to spare, and the more they danced together, the harder the cane came down; not that Baekhyun ever really hit Chanyeol with his cane, but there were a couple of times when he looked like he was considering it.

“Your grip's too loose,” he was saying now — he held Chanyeol's arm out, squeezing his hand to make a point. “Hold my hand tight, like this, and keep your back straight. And watch your other hand; don’t just let it flop down like a dead fish.”

If Chanyeol thought the criticism was over, he was dead wrong; Baekhyun kept the shots coming, firing them at him without hesitation, things like “if I had a dollar for each time you’ve stepped on my foot,” and “look at me like you’re in love with me, not like I'm going to bloody eat you!”

For Chanyeol, this last command, at least, was easier done than said.

“Good,” Baekhyun said, smiling at him — the first smile so far that day. He seemed to be in a bit of a prickly mood, and Chanyeol wondered if everything was alright. “Very convincing. Now, do you see all those mirrors on the walls?”

“Well, yeah,” Chanyeol muttered to himself, “there’s only about fifty of them..”

“Then why aren't you using them? That’s what they’re there for.”

Chanyeol didn't want to look in the mirrors. He didn't need yet another reminder of how graceful Baekhyun was when he danced, and how… non-graceful he himself was. “Do I have to..?”

Baekhyun let out a little frustrated puff of air. “You don't have to do anything... but it's a good way to keep an eye on your technique. Try and identify where your movements might be a little sloppy.” He was silent for a while after saying this, focused on the routine, and Chanyeol thought he looked really y when he was concentrating.

You look really y when you're concentrating, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Now Baekhyun’s face was only centimetres away from his. Everything about him was so real and so close; his warm breath, his beating heart, the intense look in his eyes. His hand on Chanyeol's shoulder; the sounds of their feet sliding together across the floor. It was all too much.

“Now you look like you want to kiss me again, wallflower,” Baekhyun said, chuckling softly to himself. “Must be a better actor than I thought.”

“I don’t,” Chanyeol said — he wasn't falling for that a second time. “I’m just playing the part, that's all... keeping it ‘strictly ballroom’, as you said.”

Baekhyun had on his 'ideas' face again. “Let’s take it from the top,” he said, in a sly voice. “If you can take me through the whole routine without a single mistake, I'll reward you with a kiss.”

Chanyeol smiled. “And who said I wanted a kiss…?”

“Don't you?” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at him, blew his hair out of his eyes and said, “alright then, suit yourself. I mean, I won't force it on you or anything..”

“Okay yeah I want a kiss,” Chanyeol said, quickly changing his tune, “let's do it.” They went through their whole Foxtrot routine again, from beginning to end, and Chanyeol concentrated so hard on each step that he was left exhausted by the time they were done. As soon as it was over, Baekhyun reached up to put his hands on either side of Chanyeol’s face, looking into his eyes. “Are you ready for the best two seconds of your life?” he whispered, smiling up at him, and Chanyeol found he could barely breathe. He was afraid to open his mouth, worried his heart might fall out of it and onto the floor.

“Um, I guess,” he said. He'd wanted this so badly, but now that it was about to happen, what was the correct way to prepare for it? Should he shut his eyes? Keep his lips parted, or keep them soft but closed?

Still smiling, Baekhyun stood on his toes and popped a dry little peck on the side of Chanyeol’s face, putting an end to all these worrying little considerations. Chanyeol just blinked at him, trying to contain his outrage. “Is that it..?!”

“I said I'd reward you with a kiss,” Baekhyun said, trying to hold back his laughter at the look on Chanyeol’s face, and failing. “I never said where the kiss was going to be.”

“Well, I still feel a tiny bit cheated.” Chanyeol couldn’t help pouting; but any kind of kiss from Baekhyun was something to rejoice over, and he ended up cracking a smile anyway. Even though it was only a peck on the cheek, it still left him with a pounding heart and a dry mouth, and concentrating on the steps for the rest of their practice session was even more challenging. “Sorry… I’m screwing up more than usual, aren’t I..?”

“You’re overthinking it, that’s all,” Baekhyun said. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Yeah? Well, how do I do that? Enlighten me, master,” Chanyeol replied, with a trace of sarcasm.

Baekhyun said nothing for a moment, his forehead creased in concentration. “What's your favourite TV show?”

“What’s that got to do with anything..?” Chanyeol asked, confused by the question.

“Oh, nothing, really; I just want to know. Do I need a reason to want to know more about you..?”

Chanyeol had never considered this before. “Well... I don’t really know. I hardly ever watch TV. I usually just fall asleep when I do.”

Baekhyun wasn't about to give up, by the sound of it. “Alright, fine,” he said, sounding a little exasperated. “Your favourite song, then.”

This was an even harder question, but Chanyeol responded with the first thing that came to mind. “‘Your Song’ by Elton John.”

“Good choice,” Baekhyun said. Barely a breath later — “if you could have dinner with any ten dead people, who would they be?”

“Seriously..?" Chanyeol groaned; dancing was hard enough without having to think at the same time. “Um, let's see... Mozart, for sure… and David Bowie. Jimi Hendrix. Prince. Marc Bolan… I don't bloody know, that's a really hard question.”

Baekhyun grinned at him. “See? You're doing it.”

Chanyeol was even more confused now. “Doing what?”

“You managed to answer every question I threw at you, and you kept dancing the step sequence at the same time, without making a single mistake.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol wasn’t expecting that. “Right.”

“Uh-huh… and all because you