Sehun and Kai
Modern day Seoul
Rating: PG

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Sehun lives in Kai’s shadow.

Kai is the perfect older brother who everyone loves with a passion, gets grades that keep him in the top percentile of his class, and he effortlessly looks extremely handsome - literally, he gets out of bed, throws on his school uniform and walks out of the house sans proper breakfast. Something about bed head is,a apparently, very attractive to the opposite .

At least when it’s Kai, it is.

Sehun is younger by only a year, but in 453 days, Kai found a way to grow his shadow so big, it swallows Sehun whole. In fact, it was never the monster under the bed or creature in the closet that scared Sehun. It was Kai’s shadow that haunted him and gave Sehun nightmares that led to sleepless nights and waking up in a cold sweat every other hour.

All thanks to good-old Kai.

And it is almost a wonder teachers and students are able to remember Sehun’s name because for the first month of school, Sehun becomes so used to being “Kai’s baby brother” or “Little Kai” that even Sehun stops responding to “Sehun” for about three days. It takes a lot of effort to not respond in any way - turn of the head, grunt of acknowledgement - unless he specifically hears “Sehun”. Sehun eventually gives up.

That is when Sehun stars dancing.

Kai started dancing first, but Sehun loves the stage just as much. So Sehun starts dancing. And he finds he loves dancing more than he loves watching others dance and more than he loves bubble tea and puppies combined. He finds himself accepting himself, because it is never satisfying when you are known by your relation to someone else, and now that Sehun has found himself in his dance, he is confident in who he is.

And that was when Sehun notices.

The whispers in the hallway start to sound more like “Sehun” rather than “Little Kai” and Sehun swears people were staring at him for reasons other than being related to Kai. Not that Sehun is complaining. He just isn’t used to being a popular topic or a name thrown out over the family dinner table.

Kai knows Sehun is gaining popularity.

It is no secret to someone like Kai who has eyes and ears everywhere in school. It never bothers Kai. He knows his younger brother suffers from being the the shadow that is Kai, so seeing Sehun make a name for himself is actually a nice surprise.

“You’re Sehun’s brother, right?”

The first time Kai gets the question, he brushes it off. He recognized the boy as one of Sehun’s good friends, so of course Sehun is the boy’s frame of reference. The second time, Kai ponders the question. He definitely does not recognize this second boy, but it is fair to assume Sehun has other friends Kai does not know about, so Kai ultimately lets it go. When Kai hears the question for the umpteenth time, he knows something is very wrong because “did that girl really just give me a love note to give to Sehun?” happens and when Kai gives the note to Sehun he swears he sees a sort of boredom in Sehun’s eyes as if this all happened before. If the ever-growing pile of pink papers and white heart decorated envelopes surrounding the trash bin Sehun’s room is an indication of anything, then it is probably safe to assume it has happened before.

You have got to be kidding me...

When Kai and Sehun are paired up for a choreography exercise for their dance class, the awkward tension between the two is almost suffocating; Kai still uncomfortable with his decreasing popularity, and Sehun unsure what to do with his surplus of. Yup. Awkward.

“Just follow my lead.”

It is all Kai can say when they finally settle down and get to work. Sehun goes with it, mostly because Kai is the more experienced of the two. But, despite that, Sehun finds his voice and gives his input when Kai struggles and stumbles over how own feet. Sehun means well, really, but Kai only sees Sehun as some sort of threat. Kai either refuses Sehun’s advice, or begrudgingly takes it because he is that stuck. Kai feels wrinkles on his forehead forming as stress gets to him and Sehun’s mouth hurts from pouting in frustration

It is ugly.

The choreography looks sloppy. There is no other way to put it. It is like a hodgepodge of everything that could go wrong with a choreography condense into a four minute dance. Kai cringes as he watches another recorded practice. Sehun can’t even bring himself to watch most of the time. Kai screams at everything. He blames Sehun, but he knows deep down none of this is Sehun’s fault. Sehun knows, too, but shrinks into himself so that maybe - just maybe - Kai can feel better about himself and maybe - just maybe - they can make something that doesn’t look like crap because they have half a month to make something out of crap.

“Can we talk?”

Kai looks up from his computer, blank stare and sleepy demeanor with some flash of anger that sparks at Sehun’s very presence. Sehun stands his ground, though. Kai’s room is unfamiliar territory these days, but Sehun knows this fight has to be where Kai feels most comfortable because it is the only way to get someone who has been so perfect to be willing to crack. He takes Kai’s silence as permission to enter and closes the door behind himself before taking a seat on Kai’s bed. There is more quiet as Kai waits for Sehun to say something, the hum of the computer and the creak of the bed filling the void. Sehun breaches the near-silence with obvious observations like “you’ve been upset” and “you look madder than normal” before using stronger ammunition like “I know I get a lot of attention now”. Kai doesn’t make much sound or movement, but his eyes are clearly angered by Sehun’s words. Sehun keeps trying, hoping he will hit the right spot to get Kai to open up.

“I still look up to you; you’re still my big brother.”

Sehun is sure Kai will react, but he does not. Sehun waves the white flag at that and leaves Kai’s room. He lays in his own bed across the hall, but it is only 7:56 PM on a Friday night and Sehun is too awake to stay still and sleep. Sehun hops out of bed and sneaks his way to the basement where he and Kai set up some mirrors and cleared space to dance, iPod tucked into his pocket, and bottle of water and towel in his hands. He pads around the wall for the lightswitch before remembering where it is. He stumbles across the darkness and is relieved when he feels something on the wall give a little. The lights flicker on with a hum, a few bulbs still burnt out after Kai and Sehun last made a trip down to the basement. He makes a mental note to ask their parents for money to replace the bulbs as he settles into the room.

It’s quiet, and Sehun is all too happy to rectify that.

Sehun pulls a dated jet-black iHome out of the corner of the room and plugs his iPod in. He quickly finds his warmup music and stretches himself thoroughly - it is a five minute routine he learned from Kai when he first started to dance. Before getting too nostalgic, Sehun put the song he and Kai were making a choreography to on an infinite loop. Sehun tries to recreate what Kai and he had done the few days before, but even after stretching, Sehun feels uncomfortable and tight while dancing. His body does not want to move the way Kai wants it to move; his body can’t feel the melody the way he wants to feel it.

So Sehun stops.

He sits down against a wall with his legs haphazardly stretched out. He drinks about half his water before closing his eyes and listening to the music. He hones in on every down beat and phrase and hard hit, dancing in his mind how he thinks the choreography could go.

“Sorry, thought you were sleeping.”

It is the first thing Kai says to him. Kai had turned the music off which is what snaps Sehun from his concentration. Sehun is so focused, in fact, that it takes him a few seconds to register the fuzzy feeling of a light blanket draped across his body. He glances at his phone and sees it has been about an hour since he came down. Sehun looks at Kai who is still squatting by the iHome. Sehun tries to say something but Kai moves on leaving Sehun a few steps behind like always.

“Show me.”

Sehun stares incredulously at Kai’s back. He does not quite know what Kai means by “show me” because all Sehun has done so far is fail at dancing Kai’s choreography and sit with his eyes closed bobbing his head to a steady beat. It’s almost scary how gentle the words came out and for a second, Sehun wonders if this is some sort of calm before a storm. Sehun speaks up, but all that comes out in a garbled mess. How embarrassing - stuttering because of some ambiguous command his own brother gave him.

“You always sit with the music blaring when you choreograph.”

Oh. That’s what Kai means. Sehun stares at Kai a bit longer, but Kai keeps his back to Sehun. In fact, Kai only sees Sehun through the mirrors, but even then he refuses to meet Sehun’s bewildered gaze. Kai is about to push the play button and a flash of panic strikes Sehun the second he hears a nearly inaudible click of the iHome. He has not practiced anything. Everything is quite literally in his head, and it is more of a “jumble of things that might maybe look good but could really just be a jumbled mess” than actual choreography. The music came loud and fast like before so Sehun reacted accordingly with quick powerful snaps and glides into sensual rolls and s. It definitely looks messy, especially when Sehun hesitates or gets to a part he put aside to choreograph later. Kai keeps watching through the mirror in some sort of trance. It makes Sehun feel more on edge because Kai is normally not the observer. He is the doer. Sehun is the observer.

Just like school, their roles in dancing have switched.

The song ends and Sehun steps to the wall. Kai stops him before he can take a third step. Kai mouths something but Sehun misses it. When Kai’s lips part a second time, Sehun hears him.

“Again.”

Sehun stares. What is Kai trying to prove? That Kai’s choreography is better? That Sehun is still not good enough? Kai is a prideful person, but even he should know that this would not prove a single thing. Sehun’s confusion only grows when Kai positions himself a little behind Sehun. He waves the iHome remote as if telling Sehun to hurry up and get into position himself so he does. Kai presses play and let’s Sehun start dancing. It is essentially the same dance, but they both know there are some changes here and there where Sehun had yet to cement his ideas. Sehun carefully watches his feet, glancing up momentarily to check his position and mark his moves to the song. The fifth time Sehun looks up, he notices Kai is moving. Kai is not quite copying Sehun, but he can see the resemblance in the steps.

Kai is about half a beat behind, but otherwise they are flawlessly synced.

They keep dancing, changing some moves here and there, and in the moment Kai even choreographs parts Sehun has yet to even touch. They move around each other as if blocking formations, and for once they are actually talking with each other instead of at each other.

For once, it feels like they are actually enjoying themselves.

At quarter to midnight, their parents find the boys laying on the floor drenched in sweat and panting for breath. They yell at the boys to clean up and hurry to bed before going to sleep themselves. They lazily pull themselves to their feet and wipe the floor down before making their way to the shower. Kai lets Sehun shower first, and by the time Kai is done showering he can hear Sehun snoring from down the hall. Kai stays up just a bit longer to make sure he has the new choreography properly ingrained in his head.

Somehow, Kai wakes up before Sehun.

If he presses his ear to the wall he can still hear Sehun snoring. The lack of noise elsewhere in the house, however, is a tad disturbing. Kai finds a note on the kitchen table. ‘We’re gone the whole day so look after the house and heat up something to eat if you boys get hungry’. Kai grabs a bottle of water and runs back down to the basement after a quick breakfast of toast and eggs. Kai cannot get the choreography out of his head. Not that he wants to, but it kept Kai up all night and Kai could not stop smiling. Kai has not felt this good since Sehun started to get really, really popular in school. The thought used to bother Kai. But when Kai dances, the only thing that ever bothers him is getting this to feel right.

And last night felt sinfully right.

So enraptured in his dance, Kai does not notice when Sehun walks down the stairs, hair still a tangled mess and wrinkled sleeping shirt clinging awkwardly to his sides. The iHome is off, and the only sound is the high pitched squeak of Kai’s shoes when they rub against the wood floor, but Sehun can recognize the moves and can feel his fingers twitch with want. That’s my choreo... is the first thing Sehun wants to say, but instead Sehun thinks he says “you look really good doing that”. Kai finally acknowledges Sehun’s presence with a quick wave before promptly getting back to the dance. Sehun runs upstairs to get his own water bottle and returns to see Kai breaking down moves into eight counts, the iHome still off. Sehun watches as he stretches. Not...fair... and for once, Sehun feels like Kai is taking something away from him. But who is Sehun to argue? This past year had been Sehun taking taking taking everything that made Kai who he was; kept chiseling away at the wall that separates Sehun and Kai. Sehun’s shadow finally learned to stand up to Kai, and now that Kai is fighting back, Sehun can feel his shadow shrinking.

“Come on already, you slowpoke.”

Sehun gets up and gets ready to dance. Kai starts the song over, but quickly stops it after seeing Sehun dance the choreography they had been working on for the past week. It stings when Kai looks at Sehun with utter disbelief on in his eyes, and even more when Kai asks “what are you doing?” as if Sehun did something wrong. Sehun has no answer so he merely reset himself. The music starts (again) and Sehun starts dancing (again) and Kai stops the music (again). Sehun is going to protest when Kai cuts him off - because Kai always seems to being one step ahead of Sehun -

“Why are you not doing your new choreography?”

Oh. He was serious last night? Sehun resets himself one more time, barely missing that Kai deemed it “Sehun’s choreography”, and danced his choreography. It was still a bit sloppy and raw, but the way Kai filled in gaps is enough  proof that Kai had been thinking non-stop about this. Sehun cringes a bit because every time Kai does something to the choreography; it feels less like “Sehun’s choreography” and more like “Kai’s choreography” each time and oh God, this must be what Kai felt when people were paying more attention to me and less attention to him and...and...

...why does this still feel so right?

Sehun does not miss the bright smile on Kai’s face as they practice. It is the proud and happy smile Kai always had until Sehun started to dance, and Sehun cannot help the feeling of guilt welling up inside of him, nor can he explain for the life of him why he feels so bad about being the reason that smile disappeared when in reality, Sehun did absolutely nothing wrong.

“Hey!”

Sehun flinches and flails around when he feels Kai’s thumb and index finger harshly clamp down on his cheek. He glares at his older brother, sending daggers at him though his eyes, but Kai can only laugh because Sehun is adorable when he tries to act tough.

“I was mad, but I was wrong.”

Sehun pauses when Kai starts to talk. Kai practically drops to the floor sounding semi-hysterical, confessing every single one of his faults and negative thoughts that had surfaced over the past few months. A string of “I’m sorry”s pour out from Kai’s lips, and Sehun cannot help the way the words fall from his mouth, too. It takes all of ten minutes before the boys burst out laughing at themselves. Somewhere, Kai admit jealousy, and Sehun admits guilt, and they both admit they were probably being very stupid and insecure.

“It really is good, though.”

Kai brings the conversation back to the choreography. There is no joke in his voice so Sehun knew that Kai seriously means it. Sehun knows his choreography is sloppy and incomplete, though. He denies the compliment still, while Kai continues to praise him for remembering how to enjoy the process that is dancing.

The rest of the night is spent talking.

School. Dance. The girl from Sehun’s 3rd period biology class. There are no limits to where their minds wander as they sit on the wooden floor, lips loose and curiosities piqued. Sehun cannot remember the last time he and Kai sat like this; all he remembers are the countless full moons that keep him company when he desperately needs someone to talk to.

“I still don’t think it’s that good.”

And Sehun means it. His choreography was a joke from the start; an experiment that never was supposed to go right. Whatever Kai sees in it is utterly beyond Sehun and no matter how hard Kai tries to convince Sehun otherwise, Sehun refuses to perform it for their dance class. Everything Kai does to it makes it better, because Kai is better, or so Sehun continues to tell himself. Kai reads his mind, though, and reassures Sehun that Kai is good, but so is Sehun, and you have to be an idiot to not realize that you are really good at dancing, Sehun.

So they compromise.

They use Sehun’s choreography as the roots, and Kai’s embellishments bloom into something more beautiful than springtime flowers. It is not longer “Sehun’s choreography”, but not quite “Kai’s choreography”, either. It is “Sehun and Kai’s choreography”. When they perform it, they are not “Kai and little Kai” or “Sehun and Sehun’s older brother”.

They are Sehun and Kai.

 

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a/n uh....what did I want to say....OH!
The 453 days (if I counted right) is how much older Kai is than Sehun if you were to add a years difference between their birthdays.
HA. managed to not Kai-Jongin at all in this :)
This fic mostly went where I wanted it to go. It got to the end place I wanted it to be, but it took a lot longer than I thougth to get there using this style of paragraphs and single sentenses. Don't ask me why I wrote it like this. It was innitially unintentional, but I suddenly wanted to play with the idea of a single sentense being a transition between things or a way to set a scene or even a way to emphasize something even more. Not the most successful experiment I ever had, but it worked in a few places.
Also, clearly not derived from the music, but more the dance and the interaction (or lack there of?) in the choreography.