“You need to wash this,” Kyungsoo grumbled, his nose wrinkling. There was no reply. “Yixing,” he lamented. “I’m serious.”

“What?” his roommate said from his bed, not looking up from his phone.

“This,” Kyungsoo repeated more impatiently, and raised a worn leather jacket from where it had been slumped against his textbooks. “Seriously. You wear this every time you dance.”

“I know,” Yixing grinned, and propped himself up with one elbow. “It’s my good luck jacket.”

“Well it stinks,” Kyungsoo retorted flatly. “It’s practically made of sweat.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” Yixing flopped back down, clearly not planning to abide Kyungsoo’s plans.

“Fine. I’m taking it to the dry cleaner’s myself,” he announced, looping the jacket over his shoulder.

“No, no, no,” came an answer before the phrase was finished. Yixing leapt up from the bed, a fleeting glance of panic on his face. “Look, we have another performance. I’ll wash it tomorrow, ok? But I want it in all its glory for tonight. Luck and all that.”

“Another performance?”

“Yup,” Yixing swiped the jacket from his hands, a grin spreading across his face. “In fact, we got booked every Monday and Friday for the next two months.”

“You’re kidding,” Kyungsoo stared in disbelief. He scooped his books from the ground, his face wrapped in awe. “That’s incredible!”

“Well, it’s not like we’re getting paid. But at least we’ll have exposure.”

“So I’m invited tonight then,” Kyungsoo said brightly, watching as Yixing hooked the jacket underneath his arm.

“Oh.” His roommate looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Actually...”

“You already have a plus one?” Kyungsoo asked in surprise, quickly recognizing his hesitation. “Who?”

Yixing gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Well…it’s kind of a date.”

“You got a date?”

“Jongdae,” Yixing supplied sheepishly, referring to the short hipster in their English class whom he’d been mooning over for the past month. “He asked me out tonight, and then like an idiot I told him I was busy, because, well, I am, but still, I can’t believe I actually refused him, like how stupid-”

“Yixing,” Kyungsoo interrupted impatiently.

“Well,” the dancer beamed, a blush creeping across his pale cheeks. “He said if I couldn’t go with him, he’d come to me.”

“Cute,” Kyungsoo said flatly. “Ok. Well, I’ve got to get to Economics. I guess I won’t see you tonight.” Yixing’s gig probably ran into the wee hours of the morning, and Kyungsoo, being the good boy he was, would likely be asleep when he returned. He had eight a.m classes.

“Sorry,” Yixing offered, patting Kyungsoo sympathetically. “I didn’t know you’d want to come.” He frowned, as if suddenly realizing the flaw in Kyungsoo’s concern.  “Since when were you ever interested in my dance?”

“I,” Kyungsoo answered slowly, suddenly at a loss for words. Since when was he ever interested? “Well, I- it’s cool I guess-”

Yixing raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

“I’m gonna be late for class,” Kyungsoo spluttered in reply, fumbling for the door. He slammed it shut behind him, too heatedly, and heard his roommate’s responding chuckles. Kyungsoo let out a silent curse, fists clutching around his textbooks. What a question. And the simple answer was, well.

Kai.

He’d wanted to keep Kai off his mind at all costs. He’d purposely avoided questioning Yixing about him, apart from his name. He didn’t have time for infatuations, not right before midterms.

He ended up asking to be Sehun’s plus one that night anyway.

-

The next two weeks he was at every single performance. He would arrive a bit early just to get a spot at the front before other people started crowding in. It was surprisingly full most nights; it seemed like his roommate’s dance crew had begun to garner attention.

Kyungsoo liked routine. So once he started going to the shows, he couldn’t just stop. Sehun always agreed to let Kyungsoo be his plus one, even though the formalities around audience members were quickly forgotten. Whether or not they had an invite, people showed up.

He spent most of his time in the club with Jongdae, who had quickly managed to integrate himself into Kyungsoo’s daily life. When Yixing wasn’t studying or dancing, he was with Jongdae. Kyungsoo didn’t particularly mind- he found it mildly endearing how Jongdae attended every single one of his new boyfriend’s performances. If anything, he was too chatty, but Kyungsoo compensated with his usual silence.

The rest of the time he spent watching Kai.

Dances were unscheduled and erratic, the show different every night, so Kyungsoo could never be sure when Kai would be onstage. This was a touch frustrating, because Kyungsoo liked routine, but he always forgot it once Kai began to dance.

It was rather ridiculous, this attachment he had to a boy he’d never spoken to, but he didn’t care. He was always there, right in front, and whether Kai was dancing solo or with the group, Kyungsoo was enraptured.

Perhaps he was imagining it, but he was certain that the dancer had begun to take notice. The first time he attended as Sehun’s guest, Kai was the opener. Near the end, when he stood to walk away, looking back with those eyes, his gaze caught Kyungsoo’s for perhaps a second. And perhaps it really was imagining, but Kyungsoo was certain he saw a flicker of recognition.

The second time, he danced almost an entire group dance stage left right above Kyungsoo’s wide eyes, and throughout the whole routine Kai was stealing glances, their eyes meeting for milliseconds and nothing more. But then when they took their bows, he looked Kyungsoo dead on and smiled that little smile from the very first night.

After that Kyungsoo often liked to pretend that Kai was dancing just for him. It wasn’t that hard to imagine- and the dancer’s little smiles did nothing but help. It was always the same; the left corner of his mouth twisting up just a bit, lips parting to reveal just a touch of teeth, and the last flick of his tongue darting out in finale. Kyungsoo had it memorized from the first time he’d received it.

At night he sometimes had imagined conversations, but they always dried up within thirty seconds. After all, he had nothing to talk to the dancer about. The only thing he knew about him was his name.

-
 

The first time Kyungsoo met Jongin was on his way to Thermodynamics with Baekhyun. They were in deep conversation about entropy when he caught the familiar face walking towards them, mouthing silent lyrics to the headphones around his ears.

A lot of things happened in that moment- firstly, Kyungsoo was blessed with the revelation that Kai did, in fact, attend the same school as him. Second, he saw Kai in something other than flimsy wife beaters and leather jackets and was pleasantly surprised to see that he looked even better in a blazer. And third, his body momentarily went ahead without consulting his brain and his face broke out in an extensive smile.

Nearing, Kai caught Kyungsoo’s grin and his eyes widened in what looked a little bit like dismay. His lips parted in momentary shock before he hesitantly offered a shy smile, eyes averting back down to the textbooks in his arms. His pace quickened, walking wide so that when their paths crossed the dancer didn’t even brush against his shoulders. His body language was so polar opposite from what Kyungsoo was used to that it was rather startling. For some reason he felt vaguely embarrassed.

Kyungsoo glanced back at Baekhyun, briefly alarmed that he had caught the exchange, but he was still rambling on about thermal energy and had been blissfully unaware during the crucial two seconds.

As they entered the classroom, Kyungsoo found himself wondering if the boy in the blazer and Kai were even the same person at all.

-

“Damn,” Sehun repeated for what felt like the fiftieth time.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” Yixing asked dryly as he took in the scene on his bed, which consisted of Sehun and his selfie stick. He closed the dorm room door behind him, flopping down on Kyungsoo’s bed to his right.

“I’m trying to,” Kyungsoo gritted through his teeth. “Heaven knows what he’s doing.” He waved exasperatedly in Sehun’s direction, not looking up from his notes.

“I’m posting a selfie a day this week on insta,” Sehun said by way of explanation, his phone blinking as he took yet another photo. “Damn,” he repeated when he paused to check it. “It’s not my fault it’s hard to look cute while studying.” He let out an exaggerated sigh, fiddling disapprovingly with the window blinds for the nth time. “Not to mention how terrible this lighting is.”

“Do it in your room, then,” Kyungsoo groaned, clearly irritated. “You said you wanted to study with me, not have a photo shoot.”

“God,” Sehun grumbled, setting the stick down. “It’s not like you have fans to cater to. Just so you know, there are-”

“Over five hundred thousand,” Yixing and Kyungsoo said on cue, both rolling their eyes.

“Yes,” Sehun approved, and ran his fingers through his newly dyed hair. “You would never understand the responsibility.”

“Responsibility my ,” Kyungsoo snorted, finally looking up. “How many classes are you failing, again?”

“Those hardly count,” Sehun sniffed, pulling his textbook up from the ground. “I stopped going back in like, October. Who the hell does eight a.m classes anyways?”

“Me,” Yixing and Kyungsoo replied together once more. “Now please shut up,” Kyungsoo added with passion.

“Would you look at this guy,” came Sehun’s cooing reply. “Been studying all weekend for his damn English mid-term.” He bounced off the bed, grabbing for Kyungsoo’s notes and eliciting a high-pitched cry of fury. “Hyung,” he ploughed through determinedly, “I’ve never seen you have fun. I mean, you don’t even get out except to watch Yixing and I dance! And then you just stand there; I’ve never seen you pick up a drink. You need a break!”

Kyungsoo just gave him a rough shove, sending him tumbling off the bed. “What makes you think taking a break is fun for me?” he answered cuttingly.

Sehun popped up from the floor, groaning in disbelief, and looked to Yixing for backup.

His roommate paused for a moment, looking rightly torn. After all, agreeing with Sehun was like admitting that you agreed with a poodle that thought it was actually supposed to be in college. But then he gave a sigh of resignation and placed a hand firmly on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “He’s not wrong, Kyungsoo. You’ve hardly left the room this whole weekend.”

“I don’t want to fail,” was Kyungsoo’s muttered reply.

“Oh come on,” Sehun laughed. “You couldn’t fail even if you ed yourself out to the teacher to bribe her into failing you.”

Kyungsoo gave him a look and Sehun settled with, “You’re smart, hyung. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Besides,” Yixing added hastily, shaking his head at Sehun, “we’re celebrating tonight. Our bookings are finished and I’d say it was quite successful. We’re all going out for drinks. You should come.”

“Ya,” Sehun agreed from the floor. “I’m gonna get smashed,” he added unnecessarily.

“Why would I want to go?” Kyungsoo sighed into his pillow. “It’s just gonna be dancers. I wouldn’t fit it.”

“You have to meet some new people eventually,” Yixing chided gently. “Jongdae’s coming too, so you’ll have some company.”

“If he’s not face with you,” Sehun snickered, and then let out a sharp bark of laughter when Yixing’s face went a luscious shade of red. Turning to Kyungsoo, his tone grew stubborn. “Come on, hyung. I feel bad, watching you cooped up like this. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you became a hermit and I knew I could have helped.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kyungsoo relented, shoving his notes back into his books. “It’s not like I’m getting any more studying in with you around.”

-

Kyungsoo met Kai for the second time, properly, in a club downtown, rather far from the college. It was mildly busy, women in tight dresses and guys with their collar buttons undone milling to and fro. Kyungsoo found himself quickly wedged into a corner; Jongdae, Yixing, and Sehun had disappeared from his sight within ten minutes. Other dancers that he may’ve or may not have recognized offered him smiles but none came to save him.

A blast of icy late December air awakened him as the door opened, and then who else entered but Kai.

He was wearing a blue button down with the sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons undone, as the dress code seemed to dictate. He was, Kyungsoo quickly decided, already drunk. There was no slurring or stumbling, but his eyes were abuzz with something more than just excitement. Whoever he had once seen on his way to Thermodynamics was completely gone now. The boy that stood in the doorway was none other than Kai, his body oozing confidence and his eyes oozing .

It seemed almost unreal when the dancer’s gaze swept the room and somehow landed on Kyungsoo. That smile was out again, and Kyungsoo felt his breath hitch in his throat. Kai, eyes lit dangerously on alcohol and smoke, seemed to sense it and he grinned, walking over.

Before he knew it he had been pulled onto the dance floor, and there were people everywhere, their voices and shouts and breath like a surround sound system, but all he heard was Kai, all he felt was Kai, all he saw was Kai, his mess of hair, his flashing eyes, his bronzed skin.

How long they spent in there, Kyungsoo didn’t know, but when Kai grabbed his wrist, pulling him from the crowd, he followed blindly, strangely detached.

The winter air hit him like a slap to the face, but it was nice after the heat of bodies from all directions. Kai leaned against the stoop railing, his face flush and shining lightly with sweat. He stared up at the sky, seeming content to not say a word. “I’m Kyungsoo,” Kyungsoo said in the silence, and Kai smiled.

“Kai,” he answered easily. The dancer let out a slow breath, watching as it trailed a cloud through the frosty air.

“You’re amazing,” Kyungsoo revered, and then immediately wondered how much he’d drunk.

Kai laughed lowly. “At what?”

“Everything,” Kyungsoo breathed softly. There was a beat of silence during which Kai turned his eyes upon him, and then suddenly he had Kyungsoo against him, and he tilted to press their lips together before Kyungsoo could protest.

It was outside the club in icy late December that Kai kissed him, heated and rough and desperate, all teeth and tongue on which Kyungsoo could taste the tiniest whisper of gin.

Kai broke away first, his tongue sweeping over his lips in approval, the corners of his mouth just hinting at a smile “Nice talking to you,” he said to Kyungsoo, and then he reached for the door and was gone.

A/N: Yay Kaisoo! Please review and thank you so much for reading...like why do people even bother to read my stuff who knows. But I love you so thank you :D