warning : self-hate

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"You don't understand how beautiful you are." The tall man whispered in the hollow of his ribs, full lips drawing incoherent patterns on his skin.

"Shut up, will you." Jongin answered, bringing Yifan up with a harsh tug on his hair, making sure no more words could escape the other's mouth.

This, between them, was a constant argument. Jongin was not beautiful. He was anything but beautiful. Dark tone, flat profile and sleepy eyes that easily got swollen.

People made sure to remind him while growing up.

He was just happy the heavy acne never left major scars, and that he grew past the 180 centimetres loser etiquette. Not that he would have felt inconvenienced by being shorter. Just that his classmates had one less insult to mutter under their breath in dance practice once he sprouted 13 centimetres taller in second year.

Dance had always been Jongin's dream. But for years the scene had been so far out of reach.

*

"You're so ing beautiful."

It was all thanks to Yifan really. His career, his reputation, and his newly acquired name as South Korea's dancing pride. The older man had approached him at the end of a show, when he was getting ready to have a drink with the other back-dancers. His business card read Wu Yifan, Artistic Director on one side and Qiu Hao on the other. And if Jongin was honest to himself, he had not followed him because of the high fashion name, but because of the funny sparks the scrutiny of the man's eyes sent through his belly.

At the time, the other man had dragged him to a nearby square and asked him if he could dance some more for him. The stranger's full lips had turned into a pretty smile when he had indulged in the weird request and Jongin could still feel how the butterflies had soared in his chest the moment Yifan had called him beautiful.

*

Jongin remembered watching the Qiu Hao Fall Winter 2017 video advertisement months later - it was the first time in his life he had found himself truly attractive, and somehow he understood what Yifan had seen in him that first night.

He had called Yifan then, to thank him, and maybe because he wanted to see him again.

*

It was funny how a moment of exposure could change one's life, but it was all it had taken to propel him in the limelight. He was praised for his grace, for the delicateness of his footwork and for the emotions his movements and expressions conveyed. He could only laugh it off when someone asked him why he never got attention before the Qiu Hao campaign, or when someone called him the dark kid - and only later, surrounded by close friends, or mumbling to himself, he would complain about being ugly and untalented.

"You outshined the main performers, that's why they hated you and put you in the back, you stupid ." Yifan had explained to him before leaning in for a bold kiss. The first of many others. Jongin had said nothing about the stupid timing the older man had chosen, and just returned the affection, glowering under the attention.

"I wish you would always see how perfect you are," Yifan told him before they snuggled into a comfortable position for the night. And if he noticed Jongin's pleased smile at the compliment, he did not mention it.

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I probably ed up big time with the conjugations, please forgive me ♡

Very very loosely inspired by this tumblr post who's been appearing a lot on my dashboard lately.

(Who said I love the idea of Kris being in the fashion industry ?)