“Speaking of which,” Hyukjae jumps on his feet, Donghae’s eyes on the dancer as the younger watches him rummages through a pile of vinyl record that stacked neatly on one of many shelves in their little apartment (or Hyukjae’s, but both of them had to get used to call it as theirs, since Donghae was practically living in there too now). He pulls a record, taking it out from the paper package that protects it from time to time, and puts it on the player. As the song starts, fuzzy with its dusty and muted quality, Donghae sneers.

“How did you-” he tilts his head, looking at the grinning dancer across the room. “How did you put modern songs into this ancient plate?”

“Technologies,” Hyukjae says and chuckles, shuffling towards Donghae in a very familiar manner that makes Donghae wonder where he’d been seeing moments like this. At enough distance Hyukjae makes his first spin towards Donghae, giving his hand as he stoops low and asks, “May I have this dance?”

The younger one puts his fingers gingerly on Hyukjae’s offered hand in disbelief. Hyukjae is the one that tightens the grip on their hands-he straightens himself up and pulls Donghae in one fluid motion as his other hand rests easily on the younger’s waist. He’s smiling-Donghae can’t exactly put his fingers on why Hyukjae is smiling, but then the momentum of his feet snaps Donghae back to reality.

“You know how to do this right?” Hyukjae asks, half mocking, and Donghae already had a comeback for that.

“There’s a reason why I was placed in the dance line,” he shoots up a glare that makes Hyukjae lets out an open-mouthed bellow-a laugh so sincere it startles Donghae as his foot betrays him and he almost trips at their second spin-but Hyukjae’s steadiest hand catches him before he falls.

“Dance line, huh?”

“Shut up.”

They start it all over again. The song, though something that comes no later than the 2000s, still leaves a sort of familiar taste deep inside his muscle memory. Donghae wonders if he’d been doing the same thing a millennium ago, the waltz of Hyukjae’s hand against his and the way his feet follow Hyukjae’s extended ones like advanced ballerina, gliding on the floor as Donghae’s head spins along with the room.

He danced with Hyukjae for twenty years straight but it’s never like this, Hyukjae having Donghae in his arms at this very moment, spinning with the fluidity that only professional dancers had.

They circle around again, then again, then again. Floating to the beat of the divine as if he’s having a pair of wings on his back, bare toes on the cold marble of the floor. A saxophone echoes somewhere in the depth of the melody. Donghae looks up. Hyukjae isn’t looking at him-he’s looking behind, smooth gliding, confident steps, firm grip on Donghae’s waist.

Hyukjae dances like his soul melts and fades into the background music. His movement flawless, moving with dazzling grace that takes Donghae’s breath away every time the main dancer moves his hands to toss Donghae into a head-spinning circle and catching him tight, landing a little close to Hyukjae’s chest but Donghae doesn’t mind a thing. He wants this as badly as a human wants to breath, if only he’s given this chance for thousand years earlier-

“I will-” Donghae gasps. “I will step on your foot.”

The hand on his back spreads over his shoulder blades like angel’s wings, and Hyukjae is looking at him now, wide eyes burning bright with star glow in the distant sky. “How many times have you danced like this?”

“Slow dance?”

“Yes.”

“Never.” Donghae is ready when Hyukjae sweeps him off feet into another spin. “Haven’t found the right partner yet.”

Hyukjae has questions, but decides to keep it to himself. He his head, leaning against the side of Donghae’s for a moment, touching their temples together. The light catches the stars inside Donghae’s eyes right and it scares Hyukjae at the perfection of the constellation inside the deepest dark ocean that he’s desperate to drown.

“Hyukkie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you-” Donghae yelps as he trips over his own feet, but he’s quick on his reflexes, steadying himself in no time. “-do you ever think…”

He stops short, suddenly pressing his face against Hyukjae’s shoulder. The older man laughs in confusion, bringing up his palm to rub comforting circles on Donghae’s back.

“Go on?”

Starry sky and clouds as bright before the first lightning strikes – Hyukjae always thought that fire was the shade of red, but apparently it appears that the brightest burning flames are in the shade of black, the shades of Donghae’s honest eyes.

“Do you think you can tell me what happened back then?”

Donghae cares too much.

“Back then-” he starts, slowing their rhythm a bit when the next song comes. He ponders for a moment, watching Donghae’s genuine expression, their steps become lighter and lighter with every spin they take around each other's feet, the further the song brings them. “Here’s the honest truth,” Hyukjae takes a breath, unconsciously gripping Donghae’s back a little tighter. “I didn’t think I would be able to love again.”

“Didn’t?”

Hyukjae smiles fondly. “You’re so eager to know.”

“You were a cold person,” Donghae points out, almost missing a step but his reflex steadies his body. “You were a cold person – still are, but you’re getting softer now. You were… you were rather cruel. Seoul people have hurt me a lot.”

Hyukjae laughs; and he laughs heartily, the kind of open-mouthed laugh that shows his gummy. The kind of laugh Donghae loves the most, because it is Hyukjae, because Hyukjae is being genuine.

“I’m not joking,” Donghae protests, pulling Hyukjae closer as they twirl around the room, hand in hand, body flush against each other. “I know you. You’ve changed. In a good way. There’s no way you’ll ask me for a dance back then.”

Hyukjae hums, pressing his mouth against Donghae’s hair. His hair smells nice. It smells like Hyukjae. Donghae stole his shampoo all the time – not that he minds it, in fact, he loves it when his scent leaves traces on the younger.

“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae tells him genuinely. “I’ll treat you better.”

He knows what Donghae means.

“If only you tell me what actually happened back then-”

“I will,” Hyukjae cuts, hopefully low enough to sign that Donghae’ wait isn’t over yet, that the unfolding pages of his own are still in a mess and fragments. “But today’s not the day.”

He must be shaking because Donghae tilts his head and puts their temples together again, his smaller hand solid on Hyukjae’s upper arm, and one on his cheek. Hyukjae catches Donghae’s eyes and no longer finds muted frustration of gues