#myworks:releve

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 6 (coda) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: suggestive sexual content, cursing, cheesy af but i simply i do not care

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

rating: 15+

author’s note: much apologies for the 5 month wait omfg but we’re finally at the end of the road! thank you all so much for your support of this series. i'm currently writing a spicy epilogue, so stay tuned for that! it's going to be my last relevé contribution for a while. anyways, i hope see you guys soon for the next one <3

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

The universe has never hated you more.

You were so close. So. Fucking. Close. So unbelievably ready to kiss Yugyeom; to tug at his hoodie and meld your lips to his in the middle of a fucking hallway where anyone could walk in, but no. You’re here, watching over rehearsal to add some finishing touches (not like it needed it, but he insisted, only serving to increase your levels of irritation) to Jimin’s routine, and you’re pissed.

“I’m so fucking mad at you,” you whisper to him seethingly, barely audible through the music that blasts through the portable speaker.

Jimin doesn’t even flinch. Instead, his eyes remain on his dancers as he replies nonchalantly, “Mmhm… Right. What for?”

You sigh, slumping in your seat before crossing your legs and arms, muttering something in defeat, “It’s stupid. I’m just mad.”

Not a word escapes his lips. Instead, he chooses to nod silently before sitting up, walking around with a blank face to correct some blocking issues. Once again, the changes are so minute that only he would make them; you’re not even sure why he needed to fix it in the first place. Well, you think, pausing with a slight tilt of your head, his routines are always the cleanest.

Ever the multi-tasking, detailed person that he is, he uses two hands and pulls each individual dancer in multiple directions, fixing them accordingly before taking a seat beside you. He snaps his fingers, and the music plays from the speaker before his attention shifts to you once again, even as his dancers rehearse. Only then, does he continue with your conversation.

“Why? Didn’t you and lover boy make out?” he asks, the last word causing your eyes to widen.

“What?” you flinch at the implication, cocking your head forward as warmth begins to flood through your cheeks. You’re so flustered that you didn’t even notice the fact that your voice increased in volume, spooking the people that are currently surrounding you. Embarrassed, you apologize softly with a nod of your head.

“What did you see?” you ask him, the words coming out in a forced whisper.

At first, Jimin opens his mouth to speak but instead, he stops himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest with the largest shit-eating grin that you’ve ever seen from him. The sight nearly makes you regret the fact that you even kept this promise. It’s almost mean, the way that he’s making you stew in your own thoughts before answering, “I meant to say make up, but I guess that you heard what you wanted to hear, huh?”

He grabs his water bottle and takes the most dramatic, slowest sip that you’ve ever seen, positively relishing in your flushed and sheepish state. Such a sight is rare, so he absolutely loves this colour on you. Perhaps, he should extend his thanks to Yugyeom for whittling you down, forcing this mushy, lovey-dovey side of you to come out.

“Just shut up and teach,” you poke back, prompting a giggle to escape Jimin’s lips. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut at your torment, clutching his stomach as he does so. Clearly, he’s teasing you but he still places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly; as if he’s approving of the match.

“I’m happy for you,” he congratulates you before pulling away, leaving you on your seat. You should probably follow, considering that you have to help him rehearse but strangely enough, his words linger in your mind. Maybe it’s the way that he sounded so real, so genuinely happy for you that it made your heart swell.

It only reminds you of how you already miss Yugyeom face. How you yearn to see his bright, endearing smile; to feel his long arms wrapped around you, squeezing you into the warmest hug…

Unknowingly, you smile while staring at absolutely nothing, your mind preoccupied with how ecstatic the notion makes you.

You’ve truly, never been more excited to see him.

Two hours until rehearsal officially ends, and the curtains open. Two hours.

✧✧✧

Yugyeom is annoyed.

Not at you, though. Definitely not at you, considering he was point four-five seconds away from kissing you in that hallway.

Rather, he’s annoyed at his stupid, bitch ass friends that will not let up on their teasing.

Even when he’s in the middle of rehearsing his routine with twenty dancers, trying his best to focus on his task and not on the fact that he can see you rehearse in a familiar skirt from the corner of his eye, his friends are distracting him.

But, all the words are muffled at this point. He’s going through the motions, but the second that your gaze meets his with a smile so brilliant that he can see it from across the room, he caves.

“Hello? Gyeom? Mr. Kim Yugyeom? Captain Sir?”

Yugyeom barely registers the voice coming from Jinyoung, until a tap on his shoulder is given.

It prompts him to shake his head, concentration resuming. His routine is clean but, there are some dynamics that he reminds himself that he needs to sharpen up. Blocking has also become a moderate issue, as his rehearsal space back at the studio is much narrower than the size of the stage.

Focus, he tries to tell himself, but his eyes somehow wander to the timestamp on the lit-up screen of his phone.

One hour until rehearsal officially ends, and the curtains open. One hour.

✧✧✧

Unfortunately, your busy schedule doesn’t let up enough for you to talk to Yugyeom.

Never have you ever thought that it would be this torturous to see someone without being able to have a full conversation.

He’s been whirling around dressing rooms and backstage spaces like a madman, but you can’t say that your situation is any better. It’s part of the job to be pulled into a million different directions, especially on showcase day, but it’s becoming incredibly frustrating.

Whenever you manage to be in the same room or even, the same space, he always looks at you with such apologetic eyes, as if he’s attempting to telepathically communicate his frustrations as well.

Sorry for being so busy, he seems to convey with a soft, regretful expression. It’s like he’s trying to convince you that he hasn’t forgotten about you. Little does he know, you’re just as impatient. If anything, you’re the person that’s afraid that he’ll lose interest.

But then, he smiles at you from across the hall in the middle of talking to someone on his team, and the feeling dissipates entirely. For some reason, it’s enough to get you through until finally, finally, it’s time for you and Yugyeom to grace that stage that you’ve prepared an entire year for.

Sitting at the vanity in your shared team dressing room, you spray a heap of hairspray into your hair before hastily undoing the ribbons on your rosin-caked pointe shoes, tugging and kicking them off. You had nearly forgotten that you were barefoot for your routine with him. Next, you grab the powder brush and the pressed powder that rests in your open makeup bag, slapping it on before running out of the room.

You’re so panicked with the idea of making him wait that you actually run into him backstage, face smacking against the expanse of his back. It’s dark, the only source of light being the glow of the stage that seeps through the wings, so it takes you a second for your vision to adjust. But once it does, your eyes are met with Yugyeom’s face, grinning wide with his features illuminated from the flickering streaks of light from the stage.

“Are you ok?” he whispers with his hands on your shoulders, steadying your disoriented wobbliness.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you nod, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his forearms. The muscles tense upon contact, prompting you to look up to meet his eyes.

Then, a smile appears across your face for the hundredth time today. The glow from the stage reflects off of his pupils so prettily that your breath catches in your throat.

“Hey,” you say unintelligently, overwhelmingly elated that you’re in his presence again.

Similarly, Yugyeom responds with an equal degree of delight, “Hi, beautiful.”

You chuckle endearingly, looking to the side in an attempt to dampen the heat that spreads from your neck to your cheeks, “Alright, Romeo. Calm down.”

“And what if I don’t?” he challenges cheekily, only serving to make your smile brighter. How did this turn out as well as it is? Just a month ago, you were absolutely crestfallen about the status of your relationship but now that you’ve seen him again; spoke to him again; you’re delighted.

So, you don’t answer him. A normal sassy remark does not leave your lips.

“Anyways,” he says, sliding his palms from your shoulders and down to your hands, “I wanted to tell you this all day but I’ve been so busy-”

“I’ve been busy too, Gyeom. You don’t have to apologize. It’s our responsibility, after all,” you answer, interlacing your fingers with his tenderly. Unbeknownst to you, Yugyeom’s heart swells with affection upon the sensation. Unbeknownst to you, it nearly makes him tear up, but he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He grants himself a couple of seconds before continuing with what he wants to say, but he’s interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

“Are you number 47?” someone asks him, and your eyes snap to the person in question. Judging by the headset and the clipboard, you can only assume that it’s the stage manager.

Yugyeom nods, and they answer, “Who else is in the number?”

“Uhm. She is,” he gestures at you with a tilt of his head, your own hands clearly preoccupied with holding his.

“Oh! You’re in a routine with your girlfriend? That’s sweet,” they say with a smile, causing the warmth on your cheeks to spread to the tips of your ears; any attempt to hide it would be a futile effort. You haven’t exactly asked and neither has he, but you agree with a wordless nod anyway.

“Thanks,” he whispers sheepishly, peering into your eyes to gauge your reaction. Luckily, he’s greeted by a speechless grin.

How disgustingly cheesy it must be to watch you two interact. You from one year ago would find this horrifying to your sensibilities. But now, you’re eating the attention up, and you could not care less.

“Well, you two are up next. Please prepare yourself in the wings,” they remind, giving you a single nod before walking back to their station. Yugyeom watches them leave until you lean in to whisper into his ear.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you tease, giggling when he jumps up in surprise. You pull away to see a pink flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, peeking through his dark, tousled hair. A stray strand falls over his left eye, so you can’t help but reach up to tuck it behind his ear.

Then, Yugyeom blushes even deeper than before, and your heart sings at the sight.

“Maybe,” he responds shyly, peering away from your eyes to look at the curtain beside him. He almost pouts; Perhaps, you should stop with your teasing for now, no matter how tempting it might be to see him all sheepish and shy.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?” he adds before turning his attention back to you.

“Maybe,” you smile. You want to add something else, but remember that time is of the essence. You two are up next, and you’re not willing to hold back the show for Yugyeom, no matter how cute he might be to you personally.

“We’ll talk after,” Yugyeom says, as if he read your mind. You nod in agreeance before reluctantly loosening your grip. Slowly but surely, the warmth of his palms leaves your hands.

“Break a leg,” you wish softly, biting the inside of your cheek when he places a tender peck on the back of your hand.

“Break a leg,” he whispers against your skin, and it takes nearly all of the willpower in his body to pull away. You’re beginning to believe that he’s attempting to hide that struggle but, there’s absolutely no way in hell that you miss it. Not in the way that his eyes light up amidst the darkness of backstage. Not in the way that the little spark of his stare lingers for long enough that it intensifies tenfold, searing into your memory.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from finishing what you both started.

Alas, he walks away, retreating further and further until you manage to find him in the wing on the other side. Then, you both wait, gazing at each other from across the stage; impatiently; fervently; until familiar music finally blares through the speakers.

✧✧✧

You two begin on opposite sides of the stage.

As the beginning of the song starts, a soft, even beat resonates through your body. Each step is controlled and strong as you focus on Yugyeom doing the same; after all, you’ve rehearsed this piece upwards of a hundred times.

However, something isn’t the same. It should be practiced and almost routine, but something about it is wholly different. Yugyeom’s eyes, normally bright, earnest, and filled with stars, have descended into something much darker; much more concentrated and uncharacteristically intense that the sight nearly causes you to recoil on stage.

Oh.

That’s new.

Barely fifteen seconds in and you’re out of breath. Not from physical exertion, but from the way that he’s looking at you.

Unfortunately, the choreography forces you to tear your gaze away from his. For the time being, at least.

As the familiar steps continue, you two remain a couple of meters away from each other. However, you two aren’t completing the same movements; Yugyeom had suggested some unconformity during the creative process that you surprisingly enjoyed.

Your pointed toes and graceful lines contrast with his characteristically crisp quality of movement. Your backgrounds are so incredibly different, but nothing is out of sync. Even from the corner of your eye, he dances with the same unwavering intention that you have, and it shows.

Next, a point in the routine involves slowly walking backward in a mirror-like fashion; you can’t see him and he can’t see you. All your eye can see is the wide expanse of the theatre in front of you, the rows and rows of audience members dimly lit in comparison to the stark brightness of the stage.

The music decreases in its intensity as you travel backwards, as so does the quality of movement. The strength from before is now replaced with something a little more fluid; something that moves through the music, rather than chasing it.

Slowly but surely though, the music begins to swell again. The bass becomes more pronounced; just barely, as you inch closer and closer in proximity to him. You’re not sure if the audience can tell, but the yearning begins to manifest in your expression and your body language. You reach backwards for him, but miss on purpose. It’s all part of the constant flow of energy in the piece, teasing the viewer with the push and pull of your chemistry.

Then, you both snap upward, feigning a stumble towards each other, and your back smacks against him in an orchestrated fashion. Upon contact, your stomach flutters when you feel his hand come in contact with your shoulder. The warmth of his palm slides across your collarbones, and your body contracts in response to his touch. You twirl around with a high swing of your leg, wrapping around his waist before rebounding away from him.

However, he grabs your hand with a sudden snap in the song, and your entire torso tenses. With a choreographed yank backward, you execute a triple pirouette to face each other.

His pupils lock onto yours at the sound of the clear, accented hit in the music, and the experience is utterly electric.

The audience cheers fade into the background like a fleeting, distant memory when you meet his eyes, and a pregnant pause in the music prompts you to reach out to his face. Yugyeom’s eyes widen at the action, as if your touch burns. It’s completely unplanned, not choreographed at all but for some reason, it works. A genuine, earnest expression starts to bleed through his performance, and you two are completely fucked in the best way possible.

The transition is seamless as the lift starts. It’s weightless, every single push of your body responding with a pull from him. The energy is equalized; not one person giving more than they can take. Not a single hiccup occurs, as if he knows exactly where to support your weight. The experience seems to prompt something in the both of you because a single, simultaneous movement causes your eyes to make immediate, all-consuming, searing contact with his.

Suddenly, nothing else matters.

Not the cheers. Not the audience, and to a certain extent, not even the music. Just you and him, and the connection that you have with each other. The pure chemistry, radiant and reactive and bursting off of the stage in chaotic sparks.

How unlike it is in comparison to the others that have come before. How you seem to immediately comprehend where he needs you and why.

How truly indescribable it is to understand. To know. How unbelievably freeing it feels.

✧✧✧

You’re panting for oxygen after leaving the stage, stumbling out of the wings. You fail to remember the fact that your water bottle is sitting backstage, focusing on the fact that you’re aching, wholly desperate to lay your eyes on his face.

Yugyeom’s face; handsome, bright-eyed, and sweet.  

The performance; the chemistry that you had on stage with him was utterly electric, every single touch and every single moment of eye contact lit you aflame. So much so, that you can still feel the adrenaline running rapidly through your veins, fueling every fatigue-laced step towards the exit.

With sore muscles and heaving breaths, you manage to push the door open to a long, dimly lit hallway. Instantly, you recognize that it’s a passageway that is only used by the theatre staff, as well as dancers that are running between quick changes. You’ve used this hallway yourself, so you’re familiar with how to get to the dressing rooms.

As if on instinct, you wander the hallway’s twists and turns with practiced efficiency, increasing your speed with each passing second. You’re getting impatient, lungs burning and body aching with exertion until finally, finally, you see him across from you, cheeks pink, forehead sweaty, and hair messy.

It’s Yugyeom in all his glory. A smile spreads across his face the instant that he lays his eyes on you, and you’re completely and entirely gone.

He’s running and so are you, not even caring that you two practically collided with each other in a desperate hug. You wrap your arms around his body to pull him close, Yugyeom doing the same by encircling your shoulders with a single arm, pressing your face against him.

A couple of minutes pass as you bask in the warmth of his body, unperturbed by the fact that you’re both sweaty from dancing a little while ago. The only thing that you can pay attention to is his large hand pressing into the small of your waist. Then, the proximity becomes increasingly and terrifyingly apparent.

Yugyeom pulls away from you, just slightly. It makes you begin to believe that he’s having second thoughts; it has been a couple of hours, after all. But then, his eyes meet yours; unbelievably earnest, affectionate, and tender that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he doesn’t feel the same as you. There’s absolutely no way.

Perhaps, it’s the fact that his gaze slowly drifts from your eyes and down to your parted lips, lingering there, tempting you, but you’re beginning to experience the physical and mental urge to demonstrate your affections to him.

Right now.

At the corner of your eye, you catch the open door of a dressing room; your dressing room, actually.

As quick as your exhausted body will allow, you pull away from his embrace. You grab at the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric in your grip before tugging him in the direction of the open door. He makes a noise in protest, but immediately shuts his mouth when you nudge the door with your hip, walking backward until it closes. Upon closure, the music that echoed from the stage suddenly stops. The room is quiet, the only sound being the dull click of the lock.

You two are finally alone, and that fact seems to dawn on Yugyeom as well.

You’re not sure who moved first, but it doesn’t matter.

Not when his lips crash into yours with such ferocity that your mind loses all coherent thought. You manage to meet him in the middle of the room but it’s small, so you accidentally lose your footing for a brief moment.  Stumbling backward, you reach behind you to steady yourself for some semblance of stability, but it’s difficult considering the fact that Yugyeom is kissing you with everything that he is, everything that he has.

His lips are enveloping your own, swallowing up your soft whine as he nearly overpowers you with his passion. Your hands and the base of your back end up hitting the ledge of the vanity, so you attempt to muster some level of strength to hoist yourself up. Eventually, you find yourself sitting on the cold wood with your legs parted, allowing his body to slot between your thighs as you pull him closer.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you become completely lost in the moment, moaning louder than you anticipated. You’ve wanted this for so, so long that you’re frantically grabbing at anything you can reach. It could be the fabric of his shirt, the muscle in his arms, the strands of his dark hair, anything that will have him as close to you as possible.

And within the flurry of frenzied kisses and hushed moans, you gasp against his lips with a whispered confession, “I love you.”

The hands resting on your body freeze.

“What did you just say?” Yugyeom asks. His tone is not one of disgust, nor is it one to question the reasons behind your admission. Rather, it seems that he’s unable to believe that you would even care for him in that way. He’s speechless, eyes widening in disbelief that you would return his affections to the same degree.

“I love you,” you tell him again, stronger and clearer than the first. His heart swells, leaping out of his chest as he leans down, nuzzling his nose before resting his forehead against yours.

With a bright smile, he replies tenderly, “I love you, too.”

His confession causes a giggle to bubble out from your lips.

“Say it again?” you request, craning your head back to give him a pleading pout.

“I’m in love with you,” he starts, pausing with a swallow when your lips make contact with the column of his neck, “I’m so-” he stops again when you start to pepper soft pecks up the line of his neck, “I’m so fucking in love with you,” he eventually finishes, the sentence said with such vehemence that your heart nearly stops beating in your chest. He continues to ramble phrases of affection until his voice becomes soft and breathy, right when you press the flat of your tongue against his pulse.

Your smile can’t help but become wider and brighter at the sincerity of his words. However, you don’t reply. Rather, your lips continue to rove over the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking and biting marks that you’ve wanted to leave for the longest time, showing in your own way that you love him with the same intensity.

The sensation is indescribable, urging you to push your heels into the base of his back. Yugyeom jolts forward, breaking the kiss with a surprised moan, “Fuck…”

Yugyeom’s thoughts are frazzled and so are yours, mind unable to focus on anything other than how your bodies feel against each other. Although there is a faint echo of music in the background, the sound is completely ignored in favour of this intimate moment.

Nearly a year of constant and unavoidable yearning for the man currently exploring the planes of your body is enough for you to forego any sense of shame. It hasn’t even dawned on you that you’re making out with someone in a dressing room; you of the past would honestly never be so reckless. But, Yugyeom is letting out these guttural, deep groans against your damp skin as he grinds his crotch between your parted thighs, grip on your waist tightening with each passing second.

“I want you,” you suddenly plead, the phrase slipping from your lips before you could stop it. Normally, such a thought would never cross your mind in a place so public but, your confidence surges exponentially when Yugyeom’s eyes widen in astonishment, cheeks flushed.

“W- What? Here?” he stammers, caught off guard by your sudden boldness.

“Why not? There’s no one in here,” you justify, but Yugyeom doesn’t seem to be convinced yet. So, you add, “We have 15 numbers until Lisa and Bam are up.”

“Well…” he answers cautiously.

“That means,” you pause, momentarily distracted by the feel of Yugyeom’s firm chest against your palm, “That we have a half-hour to do whatever we want.”

You can almost feel him shudder at the seductively persuasive tone of your voice. Your confidence is effectively boosted, so you attempt to convince him further. Staring right into his eyes, you whisper with a breathy, wanton promise, “You can have me right here…”

Yugyeom’s eyes darken instantly, his hands responding to your promise by gliding down your thighs with increasing pressure, digging into the soft flesh. You’re beginning to think that he’s going to cave in until his eyelids close and he shakes his head.

“As much as I want to…” he disagrees, but changes his tone when he realizes that you might take offence, “Like, trust me, I really, really, want to.”

He bites his bottom lip, expression hazy.

“But?”

“But I don’t want to do it here,” he answers resolutely, loosening his grip on your thighs.

“Why not?” you pout, but decide to mentally rescind that statement. You scold yourself, maybe you should curb your horny a little bit.

“I… Hng…” he starts, but becomes momentarily distracted when your tongue traces his earlobe, breath fanning the skin before you bite down on the metal of his hoop earring, giving it a little tug, “We’re not fucking for the first time in a place like this.”

You halt your ministrations, pulling your lips away before grinning radiantly. His words don’t dissuade you in the slightest. Rather, you want him to elaborate with all of the gritty details.

“Oh? What kind of place did you have in mind?”

Yugyeom surprises you by answering without hesitation, “My bed. My couch. My shower. My car. A wall. My kitchen…” his list trails off when the distance between your lips becomes closer and closer, but not enough to touch. He licks his lips before swallowing, mouth becoming dry as your breath fans across his parted lips.

“Really, now?” you question breathily, pausing to nuzzle your nose against his, “I’ve been thinking of this exact location, bent over this vanity…”

You stare into his eyes for the hundredth time today, attempting to wordlessly communicate your need for him; to finally have his hands all over your bare skin and-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low groan from him, and the sound has you canting your hips upward.

Shameless doesn’t even begin to encompass your attitude right now but you don’t care. You would throw away your pride for the man in front of you. You would willingly and gladly humble yourself because that’s how much you care for him. That’s how much you love him.

Yugyeom on the other hand wants to succumb to your wishes. He’s waited forever to be with you. So long, that he swears that you can see the steam shooting out of his ears at this point. He should’ve known that you’d be like this in bed; just as persuasive and demanding as you normally are.

“I- God damn it…” he stops again, shuddering at your suggestion. He struggles to maintain coherency with your tongue swirling across his skin, but his resolve remains. So, he shakes his head, “You’re a menace. I really want to take you out on a date first…”

“Oh, wow. He’s hot and chivalrous.”

For a moment, you thought that he might get bashful at your compliment; you two seem to be similar in that fact, but he surprises you with a cheeky, almost cocky smile.

“You think that I’m hot?”

You roll your eyes, “Gyeom. We’re literally making out.”

He laughs in response, the sound loud and bright, “Well, I think that you’re hot, too.”

“Hm… Careful of what you say. I might just have my way with you here,” you suggest, giggling when he responds with a nuzzle against your nose. Then, he gives you a chastising look.

“Date first,” he asserts, but you respond with a pout and pleading eyes.

Don’t test me, he seems to convey wordlessly, much more serious than you anticipated.  

“Fine,” you concede, reluctantly removing your hands from his body, “Sex postponed.”

Yugyeom giggles at your remark, “I promise that it’ll be worth the wait.”

✧✧✧

You two attempted to sneak out of the dressing room. For the most part, it was pretty successful but unfortunately, you’re much too dazed and giddy to be able to think properly.

It isn’t like you’re embarrassed to be seen with Yugyeom; definitely not, but you would’ve liked to have some semblance of privacy before letting the world know that you two are together, together. But clearly, that idea was discarded the second that you entered the audience with him, holding hands and smiling goofily.

You weren’t even aware that you and Yugyeom were being so obvious until you took two empty seats beside Jimin.

“You two looked like you had fun,” he quips with a grin, satisfied when Yugyeom’s face burns bright pink.

And honestly? Your face isn’t much better. His comment urges you to subconsciously smooth over your hair with your fingers; you’re beginning to think that the messiness gave away the earlier, greatly pleasurable events of the day.

“Just pay attention to the stage,” you respond, and Jimin responds with a snicker. Normally, you would add other words of the sassy, quick-witted nature but you feel Yugyeom’s fingers interlace with yours. Then, nothing else matters.

You crane your head to the side, admiring his side profile in the lighting. The audience isn’t lit very well, but the brightness of the stage lamps is enough to illuminate his features flatteringly. Your eyes trace his browbone, taking note of his long lashes before landing on your favourite feature; his nose.

The sight makes you instantly nostalgic. It reminds you of your first meeting; sitting in this exact theatre in the midst of watching someone dance on a stage in front of you. The only difference is the fact that you aren’t decidedly irritated or annoyed. Or, maybe it reminds you of the time that he drove you home after your first practice, leaving you confused yet excited and inspired at the same time.

In retrospect, the memory makes you laugh. Really, you should’ve known that you were falling for him, right then and there. You almost chastise yourself for being so foolish, but you feel Yugyeom’s grip tighten in your hands.

The sensation is enough for you to forgo the emotional ache of the past. If anything, it propels you towards the future.

Dance is your passion. Your drive. It keeps you going through the highs and lows of life. But, sharing this passion with someone that you undeniably care for; that you’re wholly in love with, is an entirely different story.

You look at him and you feel as if you could get into the studio and make anything happen.

✧✧✧

tag list (very humble lol): @pointofviewyugyeom​

if you would like to be added to my tag list, please send me an ask! don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoy my work. thank you!

- yue <3

✧✧✧

[pt. 5] ⤎ [relevé series]

all rights reserved © 2022 aura-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 5 (grand allegro) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: fluff, angst, professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers

word count: 6.9k+

warnings: cursing, angst, suggestive sexual content

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

author’s note: we're nearly there, besties! also so so so sorry for this late af update, irl dance was stressful af and honestly? it made it difficult to write this. thankfully though, this part is finally finished! stay tuned for the finale and once again, thank u all for ur support <3

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

Deep breaths.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You can do this.

For the very first time, you’re standing outside of a theatre door with fraying nerves and clammy palms; it’s a shaky and skittish feeling that you haven’t felt since the earliest days of your dance career. It’s the level of unfamiliar anxiousness that’s really doing you in. You’re not nervous to perform or to direct rehearsal; no, no.

You’re just dreading the fact that you’re rehearsing after Yugyeom.

He’s in the theatre right now and the mere notion of laying your eyes on him has your heart crumpling in your chest and your stomach tying into uncomfortable knots. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him; talked to him; danced with him, and you’re absolutely terrified to admit that you miss him. A lot.

You’ve fallen for him. Unequivocally so. There’s no point in denying it anymore, but your recognition of your own feelings this late is biting you in the ass now.

And Lisa, the optimistic angel that she is, seems to believe that you’ll get over it. Unfortunately, you’re not even the slightest bit convinced. It’s in the way that you’re gnawing at your bottom lip and tapping your heel on the ground continuously. It’s in the way that you’re second-guessing yourself.

You don’t know how you’re going to get through this rehearsal today, and that suspicion of yours is confirmed when you push the heavy wooden door open, eyes automatically locking on the sight of Yugyeom on stage. You’re barely a single step into the space and you’ve already spotted him; outfitted in baggy sweatpants, a varsity jacket, and a cap, looking as devastatingly handsome as ever. You’re beginning to think that you’ve gotten away with staring at him from the audience until Yugyeom turns around.

The action is completely by chance but he manages to meet your gaze from across the theatre, causing you to freeze on the spot. He only stares for a short moment before snapping his eyes away from yours, the sensation utterly suffocating you. Never did you ever think that it would be this painful to enter a place that’s normally filled with happy, fond, and nostalgic memories.

How are you going to be a professional, have-it-all-together, confident, and strong captain for your team when your heart is about to drop out of your chest?

“Are you gonna be ok?” someone asks you after tapping on your shoulder from behind, bringing you briefly out of your inner monologue. You don’t have to ask who it is; you already know that it’s Lisa. The rest of your dancers file into the seats in the audience but you’re unmoving, clenching your fists unconsciously as you turn around to meet her concerned eyes.

“I’m fine,” you answer Lisa with your eyes trained to the ground, much more rushed and antsy than you initially intended. Slowly, you peer upward to her face and you know immediately that she’s unconvinced, sighing the defeat.

“Good to know that you still can’t lie to me,” Lisa jokes, but you don’t laugh. You’re not in the mood or the headspace for humour, but you appreciate the effort from her regardless. Lisa’s eyes soften, placing her arm around your shoulders in a tight side-hug.

You can do this, she seems to say wordlessly, resting the side of her head against yours. It’s so simple, but that single gesture just might give you the strength you need to make it through the day.

✧✧✧

Yugyeom feels like he’s going to lose it.

Looking at his phone, he huffs in frustration when he collects that it’s only been 45 minutes into watching you rehearse from the audience. Maybe it's because his heart feels like it's going to leap out of his chest at any second, but it seems to be a millennium of waiting just to speak to you.

It also doesn’t help that he hasn’t been able to stop staring since you entered the theatre, looking as beautiful as ever in his eyes. He didn’t know when you walked in but somehow someway, he managed to lock eyes with you from across the space, clad in a recognizable bodysuit and wrap skirt combo.

And even now, the way that his gaze is following you around is truly shameless; Yugyeom wants to slap himself for being unable to curb the urge. Others might find it strange; Bambam seems to think similarly, judging by the way that his best friend is looking at him right now; but it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

You’re just instructing your dancers right now, rehearsing a piece that you probably choreographed, counting 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8, and making sound effects that should sound weird, but it doesn’t to him. He’s utterly captivated, and for the millionth time, he chastises himself; hates himself for making you feel less than you deserve to feel.

The hour is almost up and Yugyeom is practically itching to talk to you, even when you might not accept his apology. Frankly, he wouldn’t accept his own apology either, but he needs to try; if he doesn’t, there’s a chance that he’ll lose you in his life.

Then, finally, an opportunity appears.

The second that you wrap your rehearsal up is the moment that he decides to approach you, clumsily jumping over and weaving through the rows of populated seating in the audience. He’s stumbling down the aisle of stairs like an absolute buffoon and he really should be embarrassed, but the only thing on his mind is reconciling with you. Nothing else.

With your back facing him, Yugyeom yells your name, much louder and harsher than he initially intended. The sudden outburst prompts you to freeze on the spot, and the person that you’re currently talking to; Miss Lalisa Manoban, doesn’t seem to be too pleased by his appearance.

Trying his best to remain unfazed, he gives himself a mental slap on the wrist and musters all of the courage in his soul to reach for you. And as if you read his mind, you turn around to meet his eyes.

You’re tired; he can just tell based on your sullen expression and the darkened hollows underneath your eyes. It’s the first time that you’ve seen him, let alone looked him in the eye for weeks. Any other person would’ve lost interest by now but somehow, he’s still drawn in to you, your presence utterly magnetic regardless of the time apart.

“Hey,” he says without even thinking, not noticing how out of breath he sounds.

You blink a couple of times before responding to him with a blank face, “Uhm… Yugyeom. Hi.”

The lack of his endeared nickname stings more than he thought that it would, his mind mentally wincing at its absence.

“Can- Uhm…” he starts to speak but any preparation he took before leaves his brain instantly. Biting his lip to compose himself, he tries to form a sentence that’s mildly coherent.

“Can we talk?”

✧✧✧

“I’m sorry.”

Your head lifts at the apology, meeting Yugyeom’s eyes that are sullen and filled with regret. It’s the first time that you’ve looked at his face; really looked, and you can immediately gather that he’s tired; distraught; stressed. The sight is not something that you’re used to seeing from him, but it isn’t like you look any better than he does. Your lack of sleep and lethargic expression is surely evident; a result of countless sleepless nights and long hours of stressful practice.

Maybe it’s the environment. Or maybe it’s the emotional turmoil that you’ve experienced over the last couple of weeks. Or maybe it’s just the sound of his voice, but you can’t help but leap into Yugyeom’s personal space as a response, wrapping your arms around his body to tug him in for a tight hug. You press your cheek against him, muffling out, “You don’t need to be sorry. I-”

“No, I do. I promised to show up for practice and I blew you off. I didn’t respect your time. I’m sorry,” Yugyeom interrupts, the softness of his tone causing your chest to clench in emotion. Just to make matters worse for your heart, he wraps his arms around you as well, squeezing you tight.

Shaking your head, you whisper softly, “I’m sorry too.”

Slowly, you pull away with him still in your arms, trying your best to portray your sincerity through your eyes. In hindsight, you overreacted that day. Yugyeom can do whatever he wants; you can’t let your feelings get in the way of your friendship anymore. So, you swallow down any romantic feelings you have for him, force them out of your mind, and remove yourself from his hug by pushing yourself out of his embrace.

But even if you apologized, and even if Yugyeom apologized, there’s something amiss about the interaction. Reading emotional cues has never been your strong suit but you’ve known Yugyeom for long enough to understand that something isn’t right. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but Yugyeom seems awkward; his posture tense and his smile restrained. It isn’t even remotely close to the bright and carefree persona that you’ve come to associate with him. There’s a part of you; a place in your heart that seems to believe that he’s hiding something from you.

“Are we good?” you ask cautiously, just to clarify.

“We’re fine. All good,” he replies quickly, as if he’s rushing to get the words out. Similar to his reply, he whips around with his back facing you, speedily walking away and back into the theatre.

You’re not sure what compels you to move. Perhaps, it’s the fact that a voice in your head is essentially screaming at you to follow him because suddenly, your eyes dial in on the sight of his retreating back, pacing towards it with increasing speed. You don’t even notice that you’re reaching out for his hand until you make skin-on-skin contact. Your touch prompts him to turn around, barren eyes meeting your own.

And for once, you speak first, barely managing to utter out, “Wait, I-”

You stop yourself, unsure of what to say. What we’re you even going to tell him? Once again, your mind is wiped clean with a single glance from him, causing you to bite your bottom lip in contemplation. There are multiple dancers that walk past you two but you fail to notice their presence, only able to focus on Yugyeom’s face.

Upon closer inspection, you can at least gather that his soft expression is slightly upset. Something is bothering him. You’re not sure what, but before you can even ask, he flinches, retracting his wrist to escape your grasp.

“We should get back to rehearsal,” he tells you resolutely, turning around to walk away from you.

Again.

The action is simple. It means nothing. It should mean nothing. Yet, your heart breaks regardless.

✧✧✧

You two have rehearsed this routine so many times. Countless times. Unfortunately, all of those practices seem to have gone to waste.

The choreography might be executed to the count; the timing perfect. Even the blocking hasn’t suffered in its consistency after transferring to the stage but...

Something isn’t right.

This new style isn’t especially technical from a ballet standpoint. Yet, for some reason, your dancing is undeniably sloppy today. You’re falling out of turns and landing your jumps with a heavy, resounding thump, not achieving nearly as much air time as you usually would. To make matters even more frustrating, every single lift and point of contact with Yugyeom feels incredibly forced.

It might’ve been an illusion. Wishful thinking at best. But you can’t ignore the fact that Yugyeom used to be much more expressive; much more passionate. Dancing with him was exciting. It’s just choreography from an outside perspective but there was always a sense of safety and comfort when you made contact with him; his eyes brilliant and bright with every single touch; every single stare. Everything he did lingered on your skin and in your mind but now, he’s retracting from you as if you’re laced with poison.

He refuses to look you in the eye, instead choosing to stare at anything else. The curtains; the chairs in the audience; the backdrop; he’s exhausting every single option to dodge your gaze. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose but it makes you unbelievably disheartened anyway, saddened by his apparent need to avoid you.

Before you know it, your rehearsal time is up. The theatre director halts your practice and for the very first time in your life, you’re glad that it’s over. Without another word, you pack your things and leave the stage.

You thought that an apology would fix your friendship with him. In any other situation with any other person, it would be perfectly sufficient. The feelings that you have for him could be avoided, and everything would be back to normal. But you’re a complete fool to believe that; to deny the influence that Yugyeom’s presence has in your life. Sure, you can function regularly without him; you have for a long time, as per Lisa’s reminder.

But now that you’ve seen him so detached; so unbelievably removed, you understand. Your inability to face your feelings is what caused this in the first place. Yugyeom is heartbroken because you’ve met all of his previous advances with rejection and indifference, using your career as a cover; a weak, selfish excuse. Maybe, for once in your life, you should just ignore that part of you; the part that’s afraid to express how you feel.

Now that, has your mind spinning. As captain, you have no time to waste on your own personal matters.

You’re just going to have to communicate how you feel in the only place that you’re ever been completely unguarded and vulnerable. The only place that you’ve ever felt comfortable with exposing yourself; raw and transparent…

There’s no other place than on a stage, surrounded by music, blinding lights, and velvet curtains.

✧✧✧

“Did you do it?”

“No,” Yugyeom scowls immediately at Bambam’s whispered question, expression clearly displeased. He thought that he could do it; that the words would be able to leave his lips without a hitch because his feelings for you are so strong and present but-

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even get close. All it took was a single glance from you for his fight or flight response to kick in. Clearly and disappointingly so, he chose the latter, your concerned and worried expression causing him to second guess his initial resolution. The warm and comfortable connection that he had with you only a couple of weeks ago has dissipated, leaving the relationship awkward and strained.

Just to make matters worse, you left rehearsal without a single word; not even a goodbye or a good luck. You’re upset. Hurt. He can collect that much, just by assessing your body language and most importantly, your eyes. It seems that for the first time, you’re making that feeling known.

Yugyeom is certain that it’s all his fault, and he understands that it’s going to take more than a verbal apology to mend it.

“What do you mean, no?” Bambam urges in the middle of packing his wildly oversized duffle bag, stuffing various cords and an obnoxiously large speaker into it. Under normal circumstances, Yugyeom wouldn’t hesitate to mock his best friend’s excessive nature, but he isn’t in the mood. Instead, Yugyeom remains silent, stewing in self-contempt.

Bambam rolls his eyes at the sight of him sulking, “Didn’t you apologize?”

“Didn’t work,” Yugyeom snipes, a scowl remaining on his face.

Bambam sighs, “You mad at her?”

“What? No!” Yugyeom responds, his sudden outburst disturbing the hushed silence of the theatre. He didn’t even notice how loud his voice became, only just taking note of it when the space suddenly becomes quiet, eyes trained on him. Sheepish, he bows and profusely apologizes to the dancers currently rehearsing.

Awkwardly, he shoves the rest of his belongings into his backpack before leaving the theatre, traipsing over to the dressing rooms with Bambam. The walk is quiet and Yugyeom intends to keep it that way, until Bambam decides to ignore his wishes.

“So, you’re not mad. What is it then?”

Yugyeom lets out a heavy exhale, shoulders slumping down, “Well, I am mad. I just…”

His sentence trails off when he spots you in the foyer of the theatre, speaking with the director of the showcase. He isn’t even within your direct vicinity yet somehow; your eyes make contact with his for a brief second. Within an instant, he feels like he’s going to suffocate. It’s torturous for him to tear his eyes away from you, wanting so badly for his gaze to linger a little longer.

Yugyeom tries to memorize what he saw, envisioning the fact that you’ve changed out of your standard bodysuit and wrap skirt combo, opting for a stunning all-black ensemble. You look sleek, outfitted with a high-neck, long sleeve leotard, and an ankle-length, sheer chiffon skirt. To top it all off, you chose to put your hair in a familiar French twist, complete with decorative silver pins. There isn’t a single strand of hair; not a single ribbon out of place, nor a sliver of bare skin on your body for him to see.

However, his heart races, and his cheeks burn up just thinking about it. He wants so badly to admit that to you; to tell you how beautiful you are; to confess much he cares for you. The urge burns blindingly bright within him but…

He’s scared. What if his feelings for you are more intense than your feelings for him?

“I’m mad at myself,” he continues with a whisper, Bambam barely catching his response.

“Why are you even interested in us, anyway? I’ve dated plenty of people and you’ve never been this… Involved,” Yugyeom adds.

Interestingly, Bambam laughs at his reply, “What can I say? I have a soft spot for this kind of stuff. You two clearly like each other. I want a happy ending to this. Plus, she can take your annoying ass off my hands.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Yugyeom scoffs, but a small grin still manages to creep into his expression. Leave it to Bambam to put a smile on his face, even when he feels like shit.

“It’s my pleasure, really,” Bambam laughs, pleased that Yugyeom’s mood has lifted slightly.

“Listen,” Bambam continues, the sudden seriousness in tone causing Yugyeom to snap his head in the direction of his friend, “I’m not you. You’re not me. It isn’t really my place to tell you what to do but… She’s perfect for you. Just don’t fuck this up. You’re the most enduring person that I’ve ever met, so have some courage.”

Bambam makes his leave with a pat on Yugyeom’s back, pulling away in the direction of their designated change room.

Huffing, Yugyeom’s shoulders slump as he follows him. As much as he wants to talk to you now, the day is nearly over. In addition, showcase is tomorrow. Surely, you’re just as busy as he is so unfortunately, he needs to push this feeling away in order to shift into captain mode for the time being. It isn’t something that he’s particularly looking forward to, but you’re likely experiencing the same thing. Although, the notion is very comforting to him; the fact that you understand and share in his burdens.

Maybe that’s what is giving him a renewed sense of resolve. There isn’t any way in hell that he’s going to let you go; to allow you to slip through his fingers.

✧✧✧

The rest of your day progresses at a snail’s pace.

It wasn’t like you weren’t busy. In fact, your day was absolutely jam-packed; the sheer number of responsibilities didn’t grant you a single minute to breathe. You’re surprised that you even had a chance to change and rehearse your own solo routine amongst the chaos. There was always something to do; always something to complete and take care of. You normally thrive under those conditions. Time usually passes so quickly, especially during this time of the year but…

You’re antsy. Nervous about tomorrow.

Even as you plop onto your bed, absolutely exhausted with your freshly washed, blowdried locks spread across your duvet, you can’t fall asleep. You’re twisting and turning in the sheets with your eyes wide open. Slapping the heel of your palms against your eyelids, you sigh out in defeat, the back of your head sinking further into your pillow. Frustrated with your inability to fall asleep, you decide to remove yourself from the warmth of your bed. Grabbing at the robe that hangs from a hook behind the door, you leave your bedroom to see Lisa in the kitchen.

“Why are you awake?” she asks softly, a pitcher of milk in one hand with a ceramic mug in another.

“I could as you the same thing,” you answer groggily, rubbing your eye before joining her. You lean your forearms against the kitchen island, resting your chin against your hands. Lisa gestures at the milk and mug in her hand, wordlessly asking if you want one. Understanding instantly, you nod.

Lisa walks over to the microwave before answering, “I can’t sleep because I had an espresso at 11 pm. What about you?”

You remain silent, unsure of what to say. It takes the beeping of the microwave to bring you out of your thoughts.

“Stress. What’s new?” you force a laugh as she hands you the mug, warm and toasty against your cold palms. Taking a small sip out of her mug, she responds when you don’t add anything else to your reply.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asks, pulling at the barstool to sit beside you on the island. You must be especially drained from today’s events, so much so that you rest the side of your head against Lisa’s shoulder, eyelids slipping shut. Lisa reciprocates by doing the same.

“Rehearsal with Yugyeom wasn’t…” you trail off, trying to form the correct words to say, “I mean, it went fine. We didn’t mess up or anything, but…”

It wasn’t the same, you want to say. It just didn’t feel the same.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, rehearsal for the rest of our routines went well. I’m sure that you’ll love the routine that Bam and I prepared,” she says, attempting to boost your mood.

“It was all thanks to you,” you start, voice soft, “Couldn’t have done it without you leading and directing. I was so out of it today. I could barely concentrate so... Thank you.”

Lisa hums in response, “Of course, girl. You would do the same for me.”

Removing your head from her shoulder, you take a slow sip out of your mug, comforted by the warmth of your beverage. It’s completely silent for a while, but it’s comfortable. Lisa always knows what to say. You’ve always been able to lean on her without fail and this instance is no exception; it almost makes you choke up.

“I should get back to bed,” you begin, retracting your tears to the best of your ability before leaving your seat with the mug still in hand, “Thanks for the warm milk. Night.”

“Night,” Lisa replies, also leaving the kitchen in the direction of her bedroom. However, she halts her movement and calls out to you. The sound of your name makes you pause, prompting you to turn around.

“You two are going to be ok,” she affirms.

Unusually so, her words ease the stress and ache in your chest. Your mood isn’t completely lifted in any way, but it’s enough. With a nod, you leave and throw yourself into your duvet once again. The only difference this time around is that you manage to fall asleep.

✧✧✧

Showcase day begins as it always does.

Wake up. Do your hair. Do your makeup. Eat. Haul your costumes, shoes, and everything in between to the venue. Once you arrive, both you and Lisa need to confirm your attendance and pick up a stack of paper copy programs to hand out. Then, it’s straight to rehearsal.

You’re hoping to meet with Yugyeom sometime before rehearsal starts but he’s nowhere to be found. This fact, however, isn’t surprising to you. If anything, you’re just as preoccupied with your own team responsibilities as well. Disappointed, you bring all of your belongings to your team assigned dressing room, setting your costumes on the metal rack before placing your bags on a chair. With a practiced speed, you take out your makeup bag and place it on one of the many vanities available in the room, arranging everything in a familiar configuration before leaving to meet with your team in a large hall.

Hundreds of dancers have congregated for this event once again. For a brief moment, you make a slow, full turn to assess the space; breathe in the familiar smell of the flooring, and to take in the bright lighting. Even after all these years, this environment is still your home.

“Ok. Gather up, everyone!” you speak clearly, grabbing the attention of your team. With quick work, you conduct a headcount. Luckily, everyone has made it to the venue on time. To your relief, it’s something that you can remove from your things to stress about today list.

“Let’s begin. Firstly, I hope that everyone had a chance to pick up a copy of the program. We have about two hours before lunch, and four hours until we can have the stage for final blocking and lights. I know that it’s a tighter timeline than we’re used to considering the sheer volume of routines this year, but-”

You’re interrupted with a tap on your left shoulder and the sound of someone calling your name in a familiar voice. You turn around to see Yugyeom, cheeks pink as he heaves for breath. Immediately, concern raises in your mind.

“Are you ok?” you gasp, hand reaching out to touch his cheek. You’re not sure if what you’re doing is subconscious or what, but you press your palm against his warm cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone gently. Suddenly, a hushed silence takes over your immediate vicinity, shocking you into pulling away.

Yugyeom lets out an awkward cough before speaking, “I’m great! I was just wondering when you have time to talk, it’s important! I…”

He pauses abruptly, pupils darting around.

“Oh, shit. You were busy, weren’t you?” he asks, embarrassed that he barged into something.

“Well, kinda? But-”

“It’s ok, I’ll just try to find you later today. Sound good?” Yugyeom invites, tone much peppier than yesterday. Your brows furrow in confusion; What’s with his sudden lift in mood?

“Uh... Sure? I mean, you said that it’s important so you can tell me now. It’s just that I’m-”

Your sentence is cut off once you see Yugyeom lean in, much too close for comfort. Your breath hitches and your entire body tenses up, cheeks surely emitting heat when you sense the proximity of his lips to your own. It’s as if the entire room pauses, where everyone and everything halts all action and movement in favour of you two. The tension is stifling, his closeness squeezing all of the oxygen out of your lungs. You can barely take a single breath before his face moves to the side, placing a quick peck on your cheek before pulling away.

“See you later. Break a leg,” Yugyeom says, impatient and rushed. The speed at which he utters the sentence is so fast that you barely have time to respond. Unfortunately, you’re left completely and utterly speechless, flabbergasted by his very sudden display of public affection. The sheer absurdity of his action makes you wonder what went through in his mind to do something like that.

What the fuck is he thinking? Why would he do something like that? You two aren’t even together, you ramble in your mind, mouth agape.

“Anyways…” Lisa saves the very awkward situation, herding all of the dancers away from you in order to start rehearsal. Luckily, it was enough to break the wordless trance that Yugyeom left you in. Once the realization truly dawns on you, heat spreads from the back of your neck to your cheeks. Slowly, your fingers move up to trace your face, as if you’re attempting to remember the way that his lips felt against your skin.

You’re so preoccupied with what you just experienced that it takes you a minute to come to, shaking yourself out of it before rejoining the group. You attempt to recollect yourself; to calm the turbulent emotions ravaging your brain, but you can’t. Instead, a steady warmth remains on your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

✧✧✧

That could’ve been a mistake.

A huge mistake, on his part.

Maybe it was because he was stressed. He practically sprinted into the rehearsal space, just barely making it on time because of traffic; Mark is probably going to have his ass when he shows up. He only just managed to grab the program from the pile at the front before dodging random people in the foyer, weaving through dancers and attendees to practically force himself into the rehearsal hall. By the time he made it there, he was practically panting in exertion.

Yugyeom really should’ve gone straight to his team but you were right. There.

He just couldn’t help it. Not when you turned around looking so fucking pretty. You would probably complain that your hair was slightly disheveled and half-done; that your entire frame was covered head to toe with bulky warmup clothing, but he doesn’t care. So, he just…

Went for it. Unsuccessfully though. He was much too bashful to explain himself for his actions, thoroughly embarrassed by his sudden display of public affection. So, he tried to make do by promising to meet with you further along the day. However, he didn’t take into account the fact that like yesterday, your schedule is packed. And so is his.

Yugyeom is grateful that his team trusts him enough to be captain but honestly? The title and its responsibilities have never been more of a burden. All he wants is to go to you; to spend time with you; to make up the moments that he foolishly wasted over the past couple of weeks but alas, his duties as a captain come first.

He’s just going to have to hold out hope that you’ll wait for him. He just has to be patient.

✧✧✧

Fuck patience.

Yugyeom understands that he’s probably being childish, but he’s antsy. Unbelievably restless.

He hasn’t had the chance to see you at all, only able to catch a glimpse of you before your extra rehearsal started. Just when he thought that he had some spare time, Bambam whisked him away to help with cleaning a couple of counts in his routine. To make the situation even more unbearable, he now has to sit in the audience and watch you fly across the stage, unable to speak a single word.

At a gingerly pace, you gracefully walk on stage from the back wing. He doesn’t know how you manage to just step on stage and make the entire theatre quiet down and focus on you. You’re practically floating across the floor; he doesn’t know the technical term for it but it’s still beautiful to watch. The bright lights illuminate the now recognizable, all-black costume, complete with a neat updo, silver pins, and neatly tied pointe shoes, not a single strand of hair, nor a ribbon out of place.

Before long, the music begins to play, and he’s instantaneously immersed.

Yugyeom is used to seeing you dance by now, constantly being exposed to you teaching and practicing during your rehearsals along with his. The way that you dance; the way that you move, is nothing short of stunning already; every movement complete with gorgeous lines; controlled turns, and floating jumps. Something that he’s always been envious of is your skillful musicality, evident in how concise your choreography is.

But for him, nothing compares to the way that your face brightens on stage, completely and wholly immersed in your art. Your expression is soft, yet intensely emotive, perfectly accentuated by the stage lighting and the colour of the backdrop.

Then, without prior warning, your eyes lock onto his from the stage. All thoughts in his mind; all of the worries that he had for today, completely vanish into thin air with a single glance.

You continue as if nothing has changed but Yugyeom is losing his damn mind. Your alluring stare is enough to draw him into your performance, so much so that he’s wondering if you’re trying to call for him up there; to urge him to join in. It truly is mesmerizing, and it makes him realize that this state of yours; gliding across a huge stage with your emotions laid bare and exposed, is the state that you’re the most honest.

And for him, he’s never wanted you more.

✧✧✧

At long last, you exit the stage and hurry towards your water bottle, hastily twisting it open before gulping the water down. Relief takes over your body the second that the cool liquid slips down your throat, a satisfied exhale leaving your lips within your exhausted heaving. You remain backstage for a couple of minutes in an attempt to slow your breathing, but it’s difficult when you consider two things.

One, your muscles are crying out and your lungs are begging for more oxygen. Two, the lingering sensation of Yugyeom’s staring from before.

Even as the ache gradually ceases, your emotions will not relent. If anything, your heartbeat is quickening the more that your mind wanders to the memory of his gaze. There are hundreds of people in the audience but for some reason, you subconsciously seek him out, picking his face out of the audience with ease. Perhaps it’s because you’ve finally come to understand your feelings for him, but you believe that he’s never stared with such intensity; such yearning before.

It makes you want to see him. Right now.

With increased resolve, you push open the heavy door to leave the secluded area to a long hallway, rushing towards to the main foyer of the building. You hope to catch Yugyeom on his way out; your duet with him is about ten numbers away so he should be leaving the audience making his way backstage by now. You’re crunched for time but you sprint in that direction regardless, clumsily weaving through the stage personnel and the dancers.

Pupils darting around the space, you see the doors to the audience opening up. Popping your head up, you attempt to catch the familiar sight of dark hair, a baseball cap, and a Pulse Crew baggy hoodie. Finally, you see a small bunch of those same team hoodies, so you cross your fingers.

Taking swift strides, you get closer and closer to them until at long last, you recognize Yugyeom’s face within the sea of people, slightly hidden by dark bangs. You yell his name with an enthusiastic wave, not even noticing the giant smile that spreads across your face when you see him grin at you.

Yugyeom starts to push through the crowd so you do the same, running while dodging the sheer amount of people until finally, finally, you’re able to meet him in a narrow, vacant hallway.

“Hey,” he greets with a shy smile.

“Hi,” you respond, still out of breath from before.

“I…”

“I…”

“You go first.”

“You go first.”

“No, you.”

“No, you.”

Simultaneously, you both pause before bursting into a fit of giggles, clutching your stomachs, and throwing your heads back as laughter spills out of your lips.

“What’s wrong with us, lately?” he asks in disbelief. Shaking your head, you mutter the softest I don’t know before continuing to giggle at the situation. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to collect yourself before saying what you need to say.

“You did amazing, by the way,” he starts before you, shyly reaching out to grasp at your hand gently, “You…” he pauses to bite at his bottom lip, looking away before slowly meeting your gaze, “You looked beautiful.”

You nearly gasp at his sweet compliment, blinking rapidly as heat immediately floods your face. Yugyeom turns his hand in your palm to rub his thumb across your knuckles, the sheer tenderness of his action causing your heart to leap out of your chest.

What’s up with him, today? You’re itching to ask him that, wondering what prompted him to dive headfirst into sweet-talking you; a dramatic 180 from yesterday. You thought that he was intense before but boy, were you wrong. If anything, Yugyeom was holding back.

Slowly, he pulls away, making you realize that you should probably respond.

“Thank you,” you begin sheepishly, fingers playing with the fabric of your skirt. In an effort to push aside your coldness and to return his affections, you respond, “You look really good, too.”

Clearly, Yugyeom didn���t expect that. He literally flinches at your compliment, blushing furiously as he stutters out a meek thank you.

“I also wanted to ask… Uhm…” you trail off before taking a deep breath, “Can we? Can we start over?”

Yugyeom cocks his head to the side, confused. Perhaps, some elaboration is required, and you don’t even care about how public it’s going to be.

“I just… We… Us,” you gesture to both him and yourself with a finger, “We haven’t been the same after what happened. I don’t know about you, but I could just tell that something wasn’t right yesterday. I know that we said sorry and everything but… I didn’t say everything that was on my mind, and that’s my fault. What I really wanted to say was that I missed us. And that I missed…”

You press your lips together nervously, peering to the side before mustering the courage to take his hand in yours, “I missed you.”

Yugyeom doesn’t push further. Rather, he’s quite speechless, which allows you to keep rambling on, “I know that our relationship is based on seeing each other for work but honestly? I was just using work as an excuse to see you. I wasn’t mad because you wronged me. I was just upset that you were with someone else instead of me. I know that it’s selfish because we aren’t even together together but-”

“Hey,” Yugyeom interrupts you, staring into your pupils with such earnest affection and ardor that your breath catches in your throat, “Don’t apologize as if it’s all your fault. It isn’t. I was stupid and hung up on you and super, super fuckin’ sad so I made a decision that I can’t take back. I’m sorry.”

As with that, Yugyeom pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing in devotion. Upon contact, you respond similarly, resting your cheek against him before humming in content.

“Are you still hung up on me?” you inquire timidly, unable to look him in the eye just yet.

Yugyeom grins, squeezing you even tighter before responding with a whisper so low that only you’re able to hear his confession, “Yeah. Definitely.”

You try to bite back a smile but you can’t help it. Instead, you press your cheek against him, absolutely elated by this turn of events.

“We should stop doing this, you know,” Yugyeom tells you, causing your brows to furrow.

“What do you mean?” you answer, puzzled when he starts to giggle again.

“Doing this. Apologizing outside of theatres. This must be what? The third time?” he scoffs, causing you to giggle similarly.

Many people are passing you two, probably confused at two random people hugging each other in the middle of the hall but you pay it no mind. Yugyeom’s chest is just… So warm and comforting that you can’t help but bask in it, the notion of pulling away becoming increasingly unpleasant with each passing second.

That is, until you feel Yugyeom’s hand move up your body to caress your cheek gently, staring into your eyes with such concentration; such endearment; such passion that you’re tempted to lean in, shifting your gaze from his pupils to his slightly parted lips. His face is close, so close, only a couple of centimetres away. You’re so close to kissing him and you desperately want to, right in the middle of a fucking hallway but all of a sudden, you hear the sound of your name being yelled from across the hall.

It takes you a minute to recognize the voice, but you’re able to collect that it’s Jimin’s. Now, during the most inconvenient of times, you remember that you were supposed to help him rehearse his piece before the curtain call.

Fuck.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, eyelids slipping shut as you tear yourself away from his arms, disappointed, “I promised that I would help Jimin out before curtain call. I am so sorry.”

You’re terrified to open your eyes because the second that you see Yugyeom’s cute face sadden, you’re going to neglect your responsibilities.

“It’s ok,” he reassures, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone before stepping away from you, “I’ll wait for you.”

“See you before we go on stage?” you ask, bringing his hand to your lips for a soft kiss against his knuckle.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’ll see you later. I promise.”

✧✧✧

[pt. 4] ⤎ [relevé series] ⤏ [pt. 6]

all rights reserved © 2022 aura-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 4 (petit allegro) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers, angst

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: cursing, alcohol, suggestive sexual content, cheesiness (sue me idgaf)

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly entraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

author’s note: i'm back and almost better than ever. thank you for your support <3 i also wrote this when i was really sad lol

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

You’re just friends.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

It’s like you’re repeating it as a chant; a mantra, just to remain sane because you’re hungover as fuck and you don’t want to admit how much of an effect that a couple of words have on you.

The Asshole:

You and me. Dinner tomorrow.

Gonna cash in your promise.

But the words are from Yugyeom. And once again, he makes you do things and feel things that you would have never imagined that you would do or feel.

Slamming your phone into the cushion of your bed screen down, you use your forearm to shield your eyes from the glaring sunlight that manages to stream through your blinds.

You should say no. You’re really busy.

But you promised.

Fuck.

Turning your weakened, lethargic body in the direction of your nightstand, you spot a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on it. Just as you reach for it, your door swings open to reveal an oddly chipper Lisa, hands full with a plate of toast and a mug filled with fresh coffee, not looking hungover at all (a crime, in your opinion, jealous that she isn’t experiencing your throbbing headache).

“Mornin’ girl,” she greets, giggling when you respond with an exhausted grunt, the sound partially muffled by the fact that half of your face is smashed into your pillow.

“Can you close my blinds?” you request, only opening your eyes when you sense that the sunlight has been successfully blocked from your vision.

With as much effort as you can possibly muster in your hungover state, you push yourself upright, grabbing the glass of water and the Advil.

“Thanks for this,” you say, lifting both items up before consuming them as quick as you can.

“I didn’t do anything,” you hear Lisa reply, setting down the plate of food and the cup of coffee on your nightstand before sitting on your bed.

This confuses you initially, as no one else lives in the apartment except for yourself and Lisa. Frowning, you try to reconstruct the events of last night in your mind, collecting the brief memories that manage to flash into your consciousness.

You were drunk. Very drunk. You remember laughing a lot. You remember dancing a lot. And then there was a taxi. And then…

“Yugyeom,” you whisper to yourself, unknowingly catching Lisa’s ear. Waking up in your bed, tucked into your covers with a glass of water and the Advil on your nightstand, was all him.

It’s the simplest gesture. A pure act of kindness that could be so minute that it might go unnoticed by anyone else.

But for you, as lethargic and hungover as you are, makes your heart pound and chest blossom with a level of affection and yearning that is so unfamiliar, it catches you off guard. You’re suddenly overtaken with emotion, covering your eyes as you clutch your knees towards your chest, a heavy gasp escaping your lips when the memories of the night before finally come back with full force.

It wasn’t just a taxi. It was Yugyeom carrying you into the taxi; carrying you into your apartment; lending you his jacket. It wasn’t just dancing. It was dancing with him; your body pressed against his, his arms wrapped around you; his bright smile that you’ve grown to adore; his eyes staring into yours in such a way that made you feel like he’s the only person that could make you feel this cared for.

“You good?” Lisa asks, concern growing when she watches you shake your head, words muffled.

“Fine,” you hum, tucking your head into your arms.

“I’m fine.”

✧✧✧

“So, dinner after? I was think- Ow, what the fuck…”

His question is interrupted by a push of his back, your hands pressing downwards as his legs are spread in the straddle position.

“Shh… Just take a deep breath,” you instruct softly, completely ignoring his question (on purpose, but you’re not willing to admit that), “And exhale,” you continue, pressing his back down further, using your feet in front of his thighs to maintain his alignment, deepening the stretch. Yugyeom lets out a litany of curses and you giggle at his whining, urging his legs wider open. This time around, you notice that his stomach is closer to the ground than before.

“Hm. Your flexibility is getting better, Gyeomie,” you acknowledge, laughing when you hear Yugyeom mutter, “Well thank fuck for that.”

“Ok, I’m going to press a little harder and we’re going to hold for one minute,” you inform, your hands moving once you see him nod his head. Stretching further, Yugyeom squeezes his eyes shut, breathing becoming hitched and uneven as he attempts to cope with the pain. After the minute finishes, you ease off of his back and he lets out a heavy exhale of relief.

“I don’t know how you do that after all of our practices,” he says as he leans backward, lifting his arms upward to rest the back of his head on his palms. Resting his back on the floor of his studio, he tilts his head to the side to look at you in front of the stereo, unplugging your laptop from the aux cord with a quick tug. Turns out, the force is a little too much, causing you to stumble back slightly. Unfortunately for you, your shin splints started to act up again. Yugyeom’s concern grows when he sees you wince, forehead creasing, brows furrowing, and shoulders tensing slightly.

“Are you ok?” he inquires as he lifts up from the floor, worried. Slouching onto the floor carefully, you reach for your bag to take out some lotion to massage your tense muscle.

“Yeah, it’s just that my shin splints are acting up,” you say as you pump some lotion out on your hand, applying a thick layer to your shin before taking your thumb and pressing the muscle downward. The pain causes you to recoil. Concerned, Yugyeom decides to grab some muscle tape from his bag, shuffling over to you.

“You,” Yugyeom begins, placing his large palm over your hand that’s in the process of massaging your muscle, “Are not ok,” he finishes, gently removing your hand and stopping its movements.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re not. Showcase is next month, and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he adds, your eyes softening at the affectionate undertone of his words.

“Thanks.”

Unfurling the muscle tape, Yugyeom tells you to shift the position of your legs in order to tape up your injury. You nod, allowing him to press the tape into your skin to alleviate a bit of your pain. Working from the bottom of your shin to your knee, the expanse of his palm applies even pressure across your skin, ending with his long fingers splayed just above your knee.

His motion causes your breath to hitch, your legs widening slightly out of instinct. Just by chance, Yugyeom’s thumb brushes the skin slightly above the inside of your knee, making your toes curl in your socks. Unwittingly, your eyelids flutter at the sensation, abusing your bottom lip with your teeth.

Thoughts becoming increasingly indecent, you attempt to distract yourself by taking the chance to examine the tattoos exposed by the short sleeve t-shirt that he’s wearing today. The truth tattoo that he shares with Mark, the bull that he shares with another friend, and the pretty dandelion that he has on his forearm; your personal favorite. Reaching out with a free hand, you absentmindedly trace it as he tapes your shin up, paying special attention to each petal, each character.

“This is pretty,” you admit, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence that took over in the studio space.

“Thanks,” Yugyeom says before the warmth of his touch leaves your leg, unwittingly disappointing you.

“So, dinner tomorrow. Are you free?” he asks, the question causing you to freeze in the middle of packing your bag. Biting your lip, you pause to assess your options.

Is he asking you out? Or is it just food with friends? You don’t know.

“Uhm… Can I take a rain check on that? I just… Since showcase is coming up so soon, I’m getting really busy with my other pieces and my solo too… And you’re probably busy right?” you answer, wanting to play it on the safe side. Ignoring the immediate regret that you’re beginning to experience, you hastily put your jacket on, preparing to take your leave.

“Yeah, I’m pretty busy too,” Yugyeom responds with a smile, but voice softer than usual.

“I guess that I’ll see you soon?” you say with a smile, opening the door to make your leave once you see him nod.

Yugyeom waits for a couple of seconds before slumping onto the floor, pressing the heel of his palms against his forehead, the forced smile from before disappearing rapidly from his expression.

✧✧✧

The drive over to Yugyeom’s place is more exciting than it should be, considering that driving is a pretty mundane task. That, and it’s eight in the morning, way too early for anyone to be up and about on a Saturday. But you’re willing to sacrifice a little bit of your sleep because Yugyeom specifically requested a cleaning sesh, and you only had Saturday morning free.

You’ve also been avoiding him.

Nothing against Yugyeom at all, it’s just that you’ve been trying to control the feelings that start to bubble over when you see him…

You also miss dancing. With him. Specifically.

Successfully caffeinated, almost fully awake, and alert, you text Yugyeom to inform him of your arrival.

Me:

Morning 😊

I’m here in front of the main door.

Unfortunately for your patience, it wears thin once ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes pass by with no sign of Yugyeom.

Peering through your car windows, you dart your head around to see if you might have missed him coming up behind another car or leaving from a different exit. There’s still no sight of Yugyeom though; you’re beginning to think that he might have slept in.

Before getting too irritated, you tell yourself to calm down, reciting the fact that everyone has the capability to sleep in, so you should cut him some slack. After waiting for another ten minutes, you spot someone walking towards the entrance of the Yugyeom’s building, recognizing the bright hair, flashy clothing, lanky frame, and tinted sunglasses immediately.

As fast as you possibly can, you open your car door and yell out BamBam’s name, hopefully catching his attention before he enters the building. Your voice echoes in the street, obviously terrifying him, causing his body to jump up as his hand presses against his chest. BamBam squints in the direction of your car, causing dread and embarrassment to wash over you. Does he not remember who you are?

Luckily, his eyebrows raise, recognizing your face once he takes a couple steps toward your car. He greets you with a wave and a smile, asking why you’re here at such an early hour. You explain that you’re here to pick up Yugyeom for a scheduled practice that he requested.

“He’s really late though. I think that he slept in,” you say, tone displaying that you’re obviously annoyed by his tardiness. BamBam hums in acknowledgment, stating that Yugyeom went out with him and some other friends the night before, likely sleeping in due to staying out late. Upon hearing of this information, your mild annoyance from before morphs into genuine irritation at his irresponsible action. Yugyeom is the one who asked for this practice session, not you. He knew that you two were supposed to be working on your piece this morning, so how could he stay out so late knowing that he has a responsibility with you? 

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you attempt to calm your emotions before getting too mad. If anything, Yugyeom could have a good reason for being late. As if BamBam can read your mind, he asks if you would like to come up with him to their shared apartment to wake him up. Nodding in agreeance, you exit your car, walking towards the entrance with him as you lock your car with a press of a button. Once you hear the characteristic click of your car, BamBam opens the door for you to step through it, thanking him in the process.

At first, it’s quiet, neither one of you speaking a word to each other. But luckily for you, BamBam decides to break the awkward silence with an apology.

“I’m sorry for how we acted during showcase,” BamBam starts, pausing his sentence to press the floor number in the elevator, “We should have been more considerate, and I should’ve said sorry when we first met.”

“Are you just apologizing because Yugyeom told you guys to?” you poke back, wanting to tease him a little. This makes BamBam immediately disagree, voice stuttering as he attempts to assure that he’s apologizing out of his own accord.

“I’m kidding. Relax,” you assure him, giggling at how fast he’s shaking his head and how panicked he sounds, “Thank you for apologizing, BamBam. I was really mad because that one guy said something that pissed me off, but that doesn’t excuse how snappy I got. I’m sorry too.”

“It’s ok. That guy is a dickhead,” BamBam quips, making you laugh at how candid he’s being.

“Isn’t he on your team?” you ask after agreeing with him, a bit surprised that he’s shit-talking his own crew member.

“Not anymore. Mr. Captain kicked him off once showcase ended. The guy was super mad about it; he made a whole fuckin’ scene. It’s been months and he hasn’t even cleared his locker yet,” BamBam shrugs before extending his hand, gesturing for a handshake, “Also, just call me Bam,” he continues with a smile, shaking your hand once your palm meets his.

A shy grin spreads across your face at the news. It looks like Yugyeom kept his promise.

“Speaking of Mr. Captain…” BamBam trails off when you both make it to the front of their apartment door, BamBam shuffling through his pockets to look for the keys. Once he finds them, he unlocks the door with a satisfying click, pushing the door open swiftly.

Once you step inside, you reach down to remove your sneakers as BamBam walks further into the apartment, yelling for Yugyeom to wake up. You giggle at the things that BamBam decides to say; ‘wake the fuck up’ and ‘never keep a lady waiting’ are among your favourites.

In the midst of his yelling, your eyes spot a pair of glittery silver heels and black dress shoes haphazardly thrown on the floor, missing the doormat entirely. At first, you’re moderately confused. Perhaps, they’re BamBam’s or Yugyeom’s; you’re not here to judge. So, you pick each shoe up from opposite sides of the foyer, placing them on the shoe rack neatly before exiting the foyer.

However, you’re perplexed when BamBam stops you, his body partially blocking your view of the rest of the apartment. Just by glancing at his face, you can tell that something is amiss.

“Is everything ok?” you frown, alarmed by his panicked expression. You poke your head around, looking over BamBam’s shoulder before he steps into your line of sight again, blocking your vision.

“Mhm. Yup. Everything’s good. Peachy. He’s just coming out, so you should go back to your car and wait for him there,” BamBam rambles, leaving you unconvinced with the way he pauses awkwardly between each phrase. Doing your best to maintain eye contact with BamBam, your eyes narrow in defiance and suspicion. Successfully dodging BamBam’s body, you swivel around him with a swift and agile motion, walking into the living room of their shared apartment.

“Gyeom-ah, hurry up! I don’t wanna have to pay for late cancella-” you cut yourself off when you reach his open bedroom door, ears catching the sound of the shower running as you spot a figure underneath his comforter, “-tion.”

Long hair is sprawled over his pillows, bare back exposed to the air, face unfamiliar. It takes you a second, but you eventually widen your eyes in realization. When BamBam said ‘go out’ he meant to go out to get laid.

✧✧✧

Yugyeom needed something. Anything, absolutely anything, to distract himself from you.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, but it seemed that every practice and every meeting, his attraction to you increased tenfold. He had to hide the way that he stared at you during practice, teased by your figure in those tight bodysuits and skirts, the skin he saw when you chose to wear something showing off your back or a sliver of midriff.

At first, he thought that his source of attraction was due to the form-fitting clothing, but he still wants you in the exact same way in baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt. By now he’s had a lot of practices with you, but Yugyeom didn’t even seem to remember if those were even necessary for work, or just because he wanted to see you.

He doesn’t know why he’s like this. Just to be a glutton for punishment, he’s also asked for more time with you tomorrow under the guise of cleaning up the choreography, on a Saturday, no less. He felt guilty for taking up your time on a weekend, just after you rejected his request for dinner. Contrary to what he believed, you agreed to his last-minute request, booking a studio space in your building as well as offering to pick him up without question.

For someone that branded herself as a ‘primo bitch’, he’s discovered that you’re actually very nice. That is, if the person in question is on your good side. It made him laugh, the way that your serious, blunt, and no-nonsense demeanor contrasted with how you actually are; overwhelmingly kind.

He wasn’t sure that he could even categorize his feelings as pure attraction anymore; it has progressed to the point where his heart burns and his eyes soften when you do the most mundane things in front of him. You could be putting on pointe shoes, writing down corrections in your notebook, or fastening your hair into a bun; he becomes overwhelmed with a level of affection and fondness that left him weak.

But you didn’t seem like you’re interested in any of that, always responding to his advances with a blank stare.

That brings Yugyeom in the middle of a rowdy club that the boys dragged him to, for reasons that included cheering up his mopey ass.

Yugyeom shouldn’t even be here, though. He knows that he has a practice session with you tomorrow morning, but he’s here, drunk and sulking at the overcrowded bar on his nth shot. BamBam left 15 minutes ago with a mystery person to do God knows what at their place, and he doesn’t know where the hell his four other friends went, but at least one, Jinyoung, seems to stick around with him.

“Why are you over here moping?” Jinyoung asks, clearly seeing the drop in Yugyeom’s mood the minute that they walked into the building. He nudges at Yugyeom’s shoulder with his hand, eyebrows raising in question as he sips out of his beer.

At first, Yugyeom doesn’t speak a single word, fiddling with an empty shot glass instead. But he can see the way that Jinyoung’s brow furrows and forehead creases, clearly worried. Yugyeom sighs, not wanting to bring down Jinyoung’s mood. Getting together with his friends is a rarity these days, especially since they’re all so busy. Guilt washes over him when his wasted brain realizes that Jinyoung is taking care of his sad ass instead of having fun like they’re supposed to. 

“No reason,” Yugyeom responds groggily, dodging Jinyoung’s question. He doesn’t want to worry him, so Yugyeom downs another shot before making his way towards the dance floor. He leaves behind an unconvinced Jinyoung at the bar, looking for something, anything, that will make the feeling of overwhelming disappointment and heartache go away.

Yugyeom decides that ‘anything’ is going to become ‘someone’ when he spots a pretty girl in a tight dress make eyes at him from across the dance floor. He saunters over to the stranger, drunkenly requesting a dance. Yugyeom assesses that she’s pretty wasted too, just based on the fact that her words indicating acceptance slur together. She grabs his hand and presses her body against his, whispering in his ear as he drags her through the thick of people.

The mystery girl turns around and grinds her ass into his lap messily, simultaneously swaying her hips with his to the beat of the song blasting through the speakers. She doesn’t stop talking, he observes, alcohol-fueled brain still able to make out her voice over the loud music. Yugyeom is absolutely plastered at this point, grabbing at her waist, pressing against her ass harder, and squeezing his eyes shut to block out her voice and the flashing neon lights. Even in his hazy, drunken mind, he knows that the entire situation feels wrong.

She doesn’t move the way that you do. She doesn’t dance the way that you do. She doesn’t make him feel the way that you make him feel. She just isn’t you. Attempting to cover up how shitty he’s feeling, he flips her around to press his lips against her neck, laving at the skin there before making it up to her ear. With alcohol pumping through his body, he rasps slowly into her ear, asking her to come back to his place with him.

Once Yugyeom sees her agree, he drags her in the direction of the exit. Jinyoung makes eye contact with him from the bar as he pushes through the rowdy crowd, too inebriated to see the rest of his friends stare at him in concern. After he drunkenly requests for an Uber on his phone, he crawls into the backseat of the car with her, immediately crashing his lips against hers clumsily. He feels even more terrible than he was before, knowing that he’s just using this girl to make him feel better.

But Yugyeom is going to prioritize his feelings over his morals; just for tonight.

✧✧✧

Your gut drops at the sight, mouth falling open as the feeling of crushing heartbreak blooms in your chest, devastating you. The rational part of your brain is telling you that you shouldn’t be affected by this; you shouldn’t be upset, because it isn’t like you and Yugyeom are romantically involved in any way. He’s free to do whatever he wants, and you know this. But the thing is, you are upset by seeing another woman in the bed of a man that you’re not even in a relationship with.

It’s like you have actual feelings for him.

Huh.

Oh.

Oh no.

A couple of seconds pass by at your recognition of the situation, but you’re not even able to fully process that your self-proclaimed, shallow crush has morphed into something else entirely. However, it hits you once your eyes follow the various articles of clothing scattered all over the hardwood floor and the side table, finally comprehending that the silver heels that you found in the foyer are hers.

The realization renders you unable to keep your emotions at bay, your hands at your sides clenching into tense fists to stop the tears from welling up in the corner of your eyes. Unwittingly, your broken heart causes you to revert to a bad habit that you’ve always had; fueling anger with hurt.

He planned to meet you. He asked you. But he decided to be completely irresponsible and disrespectful of the time that you set aside for him, disregarding his arrangements and plans to get his dick wet instead. At this point, your heartbreak transforms into pure animosity, digging your nails into your palms. You don’t even notice that BamBam caught up, standing behind you as his eyes dart between you and the mystery girl passed out on his bed.

At least she was, now stirring due to the commotion that you and BamBam caused. This must suck for her, waking up with a probable hangover, greeting strangers with no clothes on.

Staying silent, you remain speechless when you hear the sound of running water stop, the door of the bathroom opening into the bedroom with a loud squeak.

Just as you predicted, Yugyeom waltzes into the bedroom in baggy shorts and no shirt, ruffling his wet hair with a towel. You aren’t even able to appreciate how good he looks because of how pissed and upset and unbelievably heartbroken you are at the moment. Once he turns the corner, his eyes immediately lock with yours, the deafening silence in the bedroom remaining. You open your mouth to speak first, fueled by anger, but you’re interrupted by a shuffling sound coming from the bed.

The second that the mystery girl spots you at the bedroom door, she sits up on his bed with a jolt. Her eyes dart awkwardly between you and the man she spent the night with, fishing around for her clothes as she attempts to cover herself up with his sheets. 

You’re not sure if your next action is out of mercy or obligation, but you hand her the clothing that’s strewn around the room, ushering her bedsheet-covered body into the hallway without a word. You don’t even notice BamBam squeezing himself through the gap in the door before you close it, leaving you and Yugyeom in the room. What she’s doing on the other side of the wall is unclear, but you can tell by the shuffling sound that she’s probably leaving as quickly as she can. It’s clear that she obviously doesn’t want to be around for the conversation that you and Yugyeom will inevitably have.

Out of sheer spite, you utterly refuse to speak first. You’re angry; or at least, you’re trying to convince yourself that you are. Crossing your arms across your chest, you sink your weight into your left hip, waiting for Yugyeom to explain himself. That decision proves to be a mistake once he walks closer, your eyes catching the red and purple marks littered over his neck, likely placed there by the woman that you found in his bed.

“Y/N, I-”

You’re leaving before he has a chance to continue.

You can’t do this. You can’t just stand there and be surrounded by this reality; Yugyeom doesn’t have feelings for you, and he would rather get his dick wet than go to practice with you.

And you know what? That’s fine, you think to yourself, delusionally repeating, it’s fine. Everything is fine. Why would it not be fine? He can do whatever he wants. You two aren’t dating. It’s fine it’s fine everything is perfectly fucking fine-

Everything isn’t fine though, because your hands are shaking uncontrollably, grip weak as you struggle to twist the doorknob fast enough. The corner of your eyes is getting wet and you’re panicking at this point, heartbeat racing when you jostle the handle forcefully. Exhaling in relief when it finally clicks open, you step out of the room.

You have to leave. Now. Because if you look at the clothes and the messy bed and him for any longer, your unfeigned façade is going to crack; peeled and fractured away until there’s nothing left but your feelings for him, and you can’t have that.

You’re practically speed walking out of the apartment, so preoccupied with your own thoughts and emotions that you fail to notice Yugyeom chasing after you, yelling, “Wait, please!” passing Bambam and the girl that he slept with (fully clothed, thank God). Once you reach the front door, you slide your sneakers half on. You don’t even bother with lacing them up; the only thing on your mind is getting out of here because you can’t have Yugyeom see you like this; distraught and hurt over him-

“Y/N!”

All motion stops when you hear him yell your name in the hallway, his wrist yanking you back to face him. Yugyeom sees you squeeze your eyes shut to brace yourself, causing him to internally scold himself for being so rough with you. He didn’t intend to be so forceful, but he doesn’t want to lose you without explaining himself. Yugyeom is beginning to think that you’re upset with him enough to not look him in the eye, but he’s glad to see you open them, just enough to meet his gaze.

You’re upset, yes. Not necessarily because of him, though. You were initially angry at him for blowing you off, but now, you’re just mad. At yourself. How could you allow yourself to indulge these feelings for him like you have?

The flirty texts; treating him to his favourite foods; booking more practices with him, not because you needed them but because you simply wanted to be with him; you should’ve never done any of those things in the first place. It should’ve been purely business, and you chastise yourself for making it more than that. And because you’re focusing on holding it together, you don’t notice that Yugyeom is equally as hurt and distraught. But Yugyeom takes note of you; he’s always been good at that.

You’re on the verge of sobbing and breaking apart in front of him, eyes glassy with tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Blinking the tears away, you bite your bottom lip, trying your best to suppress how much you’re shaking at the moment, overwrought with woefulness.

He manages to notice that you’re incredibly distressed, so he attempts to wrap his arms around you for a hug.

No, you think to yourself, pushing his advances away with a shake of your head. Yugyeom’s heart drops at your rejection, “Y/N, I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off sharply, faking a smile as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, tugging his grip away. You take a step back from him, reassuring, “We can reschedule practice. It’s clean already so you don’t need to worry about the piece.”

Yugyeom frowns at that, stomach sinking at what he’s hearing from you. It isn’t just fine. He isn’t ok and neither are you. If anything, his heart breaks at the fact that you’re mentioning work in a situation like this.

Fuck work, fuck dance, he repeats in his head; he doesn’t give a shit about that. It isn’t about work or dance for him when it comes to you. Not anymore. But maybe it never was.

All he’s ever wanted since the day that he met you was just…

You.

And because he cares for you; loves you; deeply; affectionately; irrevocably; to the point where losing you terrifies him to his core; his very being, he lets you go, watching your back retreat further and further from his sight.

✧✧✧

“What’s wrong?”

The second that Lisa’s question reaches your ears, you break apart in front of her with a shake of your head, bottom lip trembling as salty tears begin streaming down your cheeks, wrapping your arms around for a tight hug. You’re clutching onto her for any semblance of comfort, tucking your head into the crook of her neck as you sob, letting out little sounds of sniffling and wheezing.

Immediately, concern washes over her. She’s taken aback by your uncharacteristic sudden burst of sadness, reaching out to lock the door before guiding you into your shared apartment. You crumple onto the couch to hug at the throw pillow, Lisa wiping your tears with the sleeve of her hoodie.

She doesn’t ask any more questions; she doesn’t push further.

Instead, she waits until the tears subside, making a cup of coffee for you in the kitchen before joining you again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle against her in solace.

You sigh out before chewing at your bottom lip, attempting to disguise how shaky and hoarse your voice is from crying, “He blew off practice.”

At first, Lisa frowns at this, confused by the inconsistency in the degree of reaction in comparison. That is, until you continue, adding on, “Showed up to his place with a girl in his bed.”

Lisa’s jaw drops at the news. She doesn’t have to push you to tell her who it’s concerning; she already understands that you’re talking about Yugyeom.

“I know that I shouldn’t be sad,” you start, pausing with a sniffle, “He can do whatever he wants. We aren’t together but it just…” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to cry even more than you already have.

“Hurts. Because he doesn’t…” you stop, not wanting to say it out loud because it would make it real, “I think that I might-”

You cut yourself off.

Love him, you want to admit badly, desperately, but you won’t allow it. You can’t allow it. He literally just slept with someone who isn’t you, and there’s no way that he returns your feelings in your mind. You thought that he might’ve, based on how much he’s grown to enjoy your company; the times that he’s given advice during your worst cases of choreo block; the times that he’s paid for your tea and snacks; that time he got you home safely after a party; that time he taped your injury up with the gentlest, most tender touch.

Just thinking about it makes your cheeks warm.

But clearly, it looks like he’s gotten over it.

And that fact makes your heart crumble under the weight of sheer regret; you should’ve told him how you felt on the day that you met with him in that little café, smiling and laughing while talking about your shared love; dance.

“And God,” you pause, pressing your palms against your eyelids with a trembling exhale, “Showcase is soon. How the fuck am I supposed to see him and… Rehearse with him? Dance with him? Our piece represents our teams! I don’t wanna fuck anything up for him… What am I supposed to do?”

Lisa grabs at your shoulders and shakes them back and forth, as if she’s shocking you back to life. She gets right in your face and tells you something that you desperately needed to hear, “You’re amazing. And not having him there isn’t anything new. Wipe off those damn tears, get on that stage, and do what you do best.”

✧✧✧

In all of their years of friendship, Bambam has never seen his best friend this distraught. This upset.

“I fucked up,” Yugyeom mumbles with his hands on his forehead, laying on the couch as he repeats, “I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up.”

In Bambam like fashion, he dims the lighting and closes the curtains to fit the mood of the conversation. Yugyeom becomes frustrated with this, nearly yelling with tears threatening to stream down his face, “I’m being serious!”

“I am being serious, you idiot!” Bambam yells back, fed up, “My best friend is hurting and you think that I’m not being serious?”

Yugyeom recoils at this; Bambam never raises his voice like that.

“Sorry,” Yugyeom apologizes, shaking his head in his hands, “I just… I can’t believe that I did that to her. What was I thinking?”

Yugyeom is huffing at this point, panting for breath, heartbeat quickening. Bambam recognizes this as him wanting to vent, so he remains quiet, sitting down on the couch wordlessly.

“Dance is so important to her and I just… Blew her off! And for what? Mediocre sex?” he rants to himself as if Bambam isn’t even there, arms waving around in the space as he argues with himself. What makes him so angry is that he managed to make you think that he doesn’t value you or your time. If Yugyeom knows anything, it’s the fact that dance is more than just work for you; it’s your life, your everything.

“Idiot!” he calls himself, slapping his forehead before running his fingers through his hair in distress. And at that, Bambam huffs, moving close enough for him to wrap an arm around Yugyeom’s shoulders.

“You’re right. You are an idiot,” Bambam deadpans, making Yugyeom pressing his face into his palms again, bending over to rest his elbows on his thighs.

“Ugh. Way to make me feel better, asshole,” Yugyeom snipes, voice hoarse and muffled by his hands. He drags his palms down his cheeks to wipe away the tears collecting at the corner of his eyes, just to glare at Bambam.

“Look, man. The girl that you slept with? On the dot,” Bambam says, causing Yugyeom to trace his left cheek, reminiscing the slap that she placed on it an hour ago.

He remembers that she had hit him, hair messy and nostrils flared, muttering angrily, “That’s for sleeping with me when you have a girlfriend, asshole.”

Yugyeom frowns at the recollection, dumbfounded, “What do you mean? Y/N isn’t my girlfriend, if you’re referring to what she said-”

Bambam interrupts him when he exhales in effort, fed up with how dense his best friend is being. Pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, he utters, “She seems to think differently.”

Yugyeom’s face remains blank, mouth agape. Even when Dalkyum wanders into his lap for comfort, his expression fails to change. Bambam sees this, and transitions from frustrated to absolutely exasperated.

“Y/N likes you, dumbass.”

Oh, Yugyeom’s eyes widen at the mere notion, but almost instantaneously dismisses it.

“No. She’s mad because I blew her off,” Yugyeom counters, mumbling the same phrase to himself right after he said it audibly. It’s as if he’s attempting to cement it in his mind, to tell himself; to convince himself that such a reality would be unattainable. No, he thinks again, he shouldn’t entertain the idea of dating you; being with you; sleeping with you-

“All those practices? Buying you food? Showing up to Pulse just to see you? Clinging to you when she’s drunk? Hello?”

Oh.

“Come on, man. Have you seen the way that she looks at you when you dance? It’s kinda disgusting, to be honest.”

Yugyeom slaps the side of his face with both hands before dragging them down, jaw dropping. He doesn’t know what to do; scream, yell, cry, or what, so he ends up grabbing at the throw pillow in Bambam’s lap. In all his pent-up frustrations and sadness and sheer anger with himself and how completely fuckin’ stupid he is, he screams into the cushion.

The action spooks the hell out of his dog, Dalkyum yelping in protest at Yugyeom’s sudden outburst.

Yugyeom doesn’t notice though, so Bambam collects Dalkyum from his lap, placing him in his own with a pat of his head.

“God. Then I really fucked up, huh?” he sighs in defeat, the volume of the sentence tamped down by the plushness of the cushion. At long last, Bambam gives a silent, triumphant cheer of his hands as he mouths out; fucking finally, right before telling his best friend, “Have fun trying to fix this.”

✧✧✧

[pt. 3] ⤎ [relevé series] ⤏ [pt. 5]

all rights reserved © 2021 aura-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé series

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: fluff, angst, enemies (barely) to friends to lovers, professional dancer au

total word count: 41.9k+

warnings: cursing (lots, also... duh), alcohol, suggestive sexual content, very self-indulgent au (lmao)

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

rating: 15+

author's note: the main story will be sfw but because it's me, i'll be adding some spicy additions separately to pay attention to my main got7 library in the meantime (unless you're a minor)!

[library] [got7 library]

[pt. 1 - barre] 

[pt. 2 - adage] 

[pt. 3 - pirouette] 

[pt. 4 - petit allegro] 

[pt. 5 - grand allegro] 

[pt. 6 - coda] 

[epilogue - reverence] → please see my got7 library !

completed: 24/06/2022

all rights reserved © 2021-2023 flowered-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 1 (barre) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: fluff, professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers (it will never get old, fight me)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: cursing (a given), slight mention of misogyny, super self-indulgent au (lmao)

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

author’s note: my first multi-part fic! i really fell in love with this one, it might be my favourite piece of work so far (because of the au). yes, this is inspired by yugy’s dance visual with aomg because i’m obsessed. this has dance terminology so if u get confused send me an ask if u have questions lol

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

It’s almost charming, how familiar it is, you think.

The smell of aerosol hairspray, the distant sound of music emitting from the stage, the thickness of dramatic stage makeup slathered onto your face, the sheer tightness of your costume clinging to your skin, the feel of the spring flooring beneath your calloused feet, the bun in your hair pulled back so strongly it hurts to frown. To anyone else, it might seem uncomfortable. Unnatural. But to you, it almost feels…

Comforting. In every sense of the word. This is your world. This is what you live and breathe.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you spot a dancer of yours, a little first-year, a count late in the turn section of your choreography, sticking out like a sore thumb. She’s struggling, you can see, just by the way her supporting leg wobbles weakly during her fouetté, probably sacrificing technique to keep up. You’re not really sure why this is happening, she usually doesn’t mess up.

"Stop," you command, directing your co-captain Lisa to pause the music. Everyone sighs; in annoyance or relief, you have no idea, as you halt their run-through for the third time.

"Amanda, you're late on the fouetté section. Remember that you prep on seven, pirouette on eight, plié with your right leg devant on one, open in second on two. Engage your core and pelvic floor. Look at Janelle in front of you to get the right timing. Again," you direct.

You wince internally right after you give the direction. It might have sounded a tad bit mean; you regret it. It's part of the job though, you have to be direct and no-nonsense when you're the captain of a ballet company, especially when you’re at a showcase with other groups rehearsing beside you. It’s your fourth showcase overall, but your first as captain. Normally, it’s a safe place where dancers of all genres across the city meet to share their craft. It’s always refreshing to be able to see artistry from genres that you don’t do, but you can’t ignore the pressure that you feel; not only as a leader but as a dancer as well. You're so into your thoughts that your eyes wander from your own piece, darting towards an urban dance team rehearsing beside you.

Classical versus urban dance. There’s always been a dichotomy between the two. Very rarely do members of their respective genres ever interact with each other outside of the stage. Although you all dance, very little can be said about the similarities in experience. Urban dance teams are usually loud, cheering boisterously, indicative of the genre they stem from. The way they rehearse; so free, not having to worry about pointing their toes or maintaining long body lines or having good ballon, makes you jealous. It’s safe to say that you will probably never understand them.

The music finally stops, indicating the end of the piece that you choreographed. All of the inconsistencies have been gone through, so it's clean now. You feel comfortable with giving your team the go-ahead to prep backstage for the performance. Exhaling in relief, the burden of cleaning your piece flies off your shoulders after an entire year. Spotting your first-year dancers, you frown in concern when you see their fingers play with the hem of their skirts. They’re definitely nervous.

“You guys will do great,” you reassure, hand moving to rest on one of the girls’ shoulders, “It’s okay to be nervous. But once you’re on stage with those lights around you, it’ll make you forget why you were nervous in the first place. I promise,” you encourage, letting out a small smile when their shoulders relax at your words. Opening your arms, you gesture for a group huddle.

“You guys worked so hard this year. I’m proud, truly,” you commend, pausing to look away when you feel fond emotions start to bubble out.

“Oh my God, Y/N is getting emotional guys! Holy sh-,” Janelle exclaims.

"Shut up. I'm just proud, ok?" you interrupt their teasing, making everyone cause a bit of a ruckus when you get uncharacteristically teary-eyed. You inhale and exhale with a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down.

"Thank you for making my first year as captain so memorable. Break a leg," you say sincerely, bringing everyone in for a tight group hug. When you hear the curtain call, you pull away, watching your dancers' backs as they walk backstage. You wait for them to get accustomed before running towards the audience entrance.

Once permission from the doorman is given, you enter the audience quickly, racing to find a seat in the dimly lit theatre before your piece starts. You shuffle to the only free seat in your line of sight, right in the middle of the row, not paying any attention to who you decide to sit beside. Taking your notebook and pen out of your bag diligently, you prepare to take notes for corrections as you view your piece. The second that you hear a familiar piece of music, your pen meets the paper in anticipation.

It's going well so far, your corrections from before being applied on stage. Your body sways on instinct to the music, your legs and head mimicking the choreography on the spot unintentionally. However, you notice that the follow-through was a bit off, a dancer not going at the correct count this time around. Your eyebrows furrow, pen beginning to write down the correction as you see it. Unfortunately, a nudge to your right shoulder interrupts your concentration briefly.

Initially, you pay it no mind, assuming that it was an accident. But to your annoyance, it happens two more times, and much more forcefully with each bump. Your eyebrow twitches, head snapping to look to your right, scowling at the back of a head from some guy causing an incredibly irritating fuss as you try to concentrate on your dancers. He doesn't even notice that you're bothered by the commotion that he's causing. You tap at his shoulder in an attempt to catch his attention but to no avail. Your eyes travel to his back, the logo of the Pulse Crew plastered on the hoodie proudly. Kim is his last name, you notice, reading the embroidery on the sleeve. Looking further down the line of seats briefly, you see a whole row of the same hoodie. You roll your eyes. They're loud and boisterous. Of course, they’re an urban dance team.

Getting increasingly irate by the second, you tap on the Kim guy’s shoulder harder. He doesn’t answer you again, so you practically yank at his hoodie, causing him to turn around to meet your perpetually annoyed expression.

“Hey, what the-” he whispers at you snarkily, cutting himself off when he sees your angry expression in the dim lighting of the theatre. You miss the way that his eyes soften, too preoccupied with how irritated you are. Unintentionally, you briefly assess his face.

Cute.

You think that he would almost be… Attractive, dare you say, if you weren’t so agitated. You ignore this thought though, taken aback by the fact that he dares to ask what’s wrong with the situation when he’s the one disturbing your work and thought process.

“Can you please stop?” you snap aggressively at him, brows furrowing. They made you miss half of your choreography due to the buffoonery beside you. This guy, Kim, to your surprise, starts to bow in his seat, so you begin to think that he's about to apologize. However, he doesn't, a dancer from the same team pulling him backward to make even more noise. How has the theatre manager not kicked them out already?

You’re unable to concentrate now, the quarrel beside you continuing to interrupt your process. Before you can even blink, your dancers have left the stage and your piece is over, with one lonely correction jotted down in your notebook. You’re supposed to give these notes to your director. How are you supposed to give them something when you have nothing? It’s your first year as captain as well. How are you supposed to seem responsible and trustworthy when you can’t even give corrections?

The lights brighten, indicating an intermission. You rise out of your seat, fuming. The tip of your tongue presses against your cheek as you practically slap at this Kim guy’s shoulder; the asshole, you choose to call him now, to get him to move aside. You need to meet your dancers outside of the theatre before the urge to curse him out takes over. At least this time, he turns around.

“Move. I need to meet with my team,” you state, stiff and unable to hide your annoyed facial expression, voice laced with irritation. To your surprise, he doesn’t get angry with you. Instead, he moves aside immediately, clearing a path for you to leave. If only you weren’t so agitated, you would have said thank you.

“So fuckin’ uptight, the ballet girls,” you hear someone in the row say, just before you’re out of earshot. At this point, you’re livid. You turn around at this, head snapping to eye the entire row of Pulse Crew hoodies with a vengeance. You don’t even know who said it, but they’re a hundred percent on your blacklist now. You unwillingly meet eyes with the asshole, glaring at him in retribution before stomping out of the audience, absolutely furious.

You don’t turn back, missing the fact that the Kim guy practically climbs out of his seat, chasing you to apologize. Sadly, he loses you in the thick of people as you race out of the theatre.

✧✧✧

You exhale once you leave the audience, closing your eyes in relief. If you stayed any longer, you definitely would have punched one of the Pulse Crew members. You’ve dealt with your fair share of misogyny in your dance career, but never before have you experienced such a level of disrespect as an audience member. Uptight? Maybe you just respect the decorum of being an audience member. Dear God. You have to calm down. At least the notion of seeing your team cheers you up.

You run towards them, yelling and waving to get their attention.

"How did we do?" one of them asks you, breath heaving in exhaustion as another makes a grabbing motion with their hand. Immediately, you understand, tossing them a water bottle in their direction.

"You did great guys. Canon was a bit weird but other than that…" you trail off, trying to find the words to explain what happened in the audience as they were performing. Instead, you choose to not tell them, trying not to fuel any bad blood between teams. You can tell that they're already exhausted, so you don't want to ruin their mood any further.

“Let’s get some food. We have, like… An hour until it starts again so everyone go get changed and meet in the parking lot in 5.”

✧✧✧

Before you know it, you're back in the audience with your team, waiting for the last half of the showcase; the urban dance teams. As always, you're excited to see what they have to offer, but the encounter with the Pulse Crew a couple of hours ago has left a bitter taste in your mouth, especially that asshole. And by looking at the program, they’re first up.

The lights in the audience dim, your eyes not wanting to focus on the stage out of spite. The music starts to boom through the speakers, so you know that their stage has started.

As the piece continues, you can’t help but appreciate the dynamic textures in their choreography. They’ve included some krump elements, something that isn’t the trend for urban dance groups these days. The footwork is also admittingly intricate. How did they manage to keep that in time and synched with one another? The dancers must be super in tune with the musicality of the song that they’re using. Speaking of the dancers, they’re quite good. You mean, everyone here at this showcase is good, they wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. They have three guys doing insane flips, and one of them, you notice, is a great b-boy. But you can’t help but eye one of them specifically, his quality of movement and style piquing your attention. Your eyes squint, recognizing him instantly.

Kim. The asshole.

Immediately, you’re disappointed. This guy is good. Really good. Irritatingly so. One of the best on the team, you unwillingly admit. There's just something about the way he moves, powerful, dynamic, yet fluid and with intention. It looks like he's pretty tall too, so the fact that his footwork and isolations look so clean with his body type is impressive, to say the least. He's also interacting with everyone on stage and in the audience; you can't help but feel envious of how natural he is. The confidence he has is truly…

So attractive.

God, why. You immediately try to push away that thought, but it’s hard when he’s this distracting. He was a dick to you but deep down, you know that you’re a realistic, relatively objective person. He’s a great dancer and his talent on stage demands your respect, asshole or not. It kind of pisses you off, if you’re being honest.

Once he takes place on your side of the stage, you're screwed. He's sweating profusely, dark hair clinging to his forehead, well-toned chest pressing against his white t-shirt with every movement and every breath that he takes. You flinch with a rapid blink when he smirks cockily.

Why does he have to be hot?

There are hundreds of people in the audience right now, but it seems like he's fixated on you and only you from up there, eyes dark, narrow, and focused, as if he's staring into your soul, your emotions, your memories. You shiver against your wishes, mouth falling open a fraction as his captivating stage presence captures you wholly.

Once the piece ends, the dancers leave, the cut in the music and the loud applause shocking you out of your trance. Out of instinct, you applaud their stage silently, lips pressing together, snapping your head to the side to not look at the Kim guy. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in, glad that he’s finally gone from your line of sight.

✧✧✧

At long last, another showcase finishes successfully. It feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders, as this is a primary source of your stress for the past year. Your hair is taken out of your suffocating bun from hours before, donning a black floor-length dress and a pair of your best heels for the closing gala. You make comfortable conversations with your own team and the other contemporary dance companies out of obligation, sticking beside Lisa the entire time. She's much better at maintaining conversation with people you don't know, so you're glad that she's here to buffer the interactions. It's nice to be able to reminisce about the dance season, laughing together.

“It was slippery that day, I swear!” you defend, laughing when your team remembers that time that you were practicing a firebird jump, slipping out of it to hit your face on the ground.

“Oh my God, it was so funny. I mean. Not at the time but in retrospect the whole situation was funny!” Janelle says, “That was the day that I knew that you were cool because you made fun of yourself. Instead of getting mad you just laughed,” she continues, making you giggle.

“Let’s not forget about how Y/N teaches choreo,” Lisa jokes, mocking the sound effects and movements that you make when emphasizing specific parts of your choreography when you teach. You slap her arm playfully, snickering.

“You know what, I’m feeling a little attacked right now,” you say sarcastically, dramatically placing your hand over your heart in false hurt, rolling your eyes, everyone around you laughing.

Unfortunately, the laughter is interrupted with an ear-splitting screech from a microphone. Wincing, the whole crowd looks towards the front of the hall, a small stage and podium set up. This is unexpected, as there aren't any announcements during the gala out of all the years that you've participated as a dance company. A short woman starts to walk up towards the podium, and you notice that it’s the president of the company that organizes the showcase. Once she makes it there, she clears her throat to speak into the microphone.

“Evening everyone, I hope that everyone is enjoying the food and drink that we’ve organized for tonight,” she starts, “As some of you know, next year will mark the 50th anniversary of the showcase that we hold here. Every year, we gather to celebrate the diversity of dance in this city, so we’ve decided to organize special collaborative stages between two different groups to perform next year as a celebration. This will hopefully bring our wonderful dance community together with exciting new projects and performances,” she stops, gesturing to the small glass bowl beside her, filled with slips of paper. The crowd murmurs at her announcement.

“I will be deciding the collaborations randomly by picking up slips of paper from this bowl,” she adds, hand shuffling the paper around before picking up the first slip, reading it aloud.

“Pulse Crew,” she starts, searching for another piece of paper.

God, you’re praying that you don’t get them. Disastrously, the universe wants to cause you suffering, because you hear your own team’s name spoken through the microphone.

“EDC, Elevate Dance Company,” she reveals, the crowd around you clapping.

Fuck.

“May the captains from their respective teams please make their way towards the stage to shake hands?” she finishes finally, your favourable mood from before instantaneously souring at her announcement.

Reluctantly, you walk towards the podium, attempting to scope out who in Pulse Crew you have to work with directly. You hope that it isn’t that dickhead that said that you were uptight. Trying to keep your facial expression as neutral as possible, you’re displeased when it becomes even harder as you catch a glimpse of the Pulse Crew captain. You stop in your tracks.

Kim. The asshole.

You notice that his hoodie from before is replaced with a formal ensemble; a simple white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, a necklace, triangular pendant peaking through, layered silver bracelets, sleek black slacks, dark leather dress shoes. Once again, he looks good and it annoys you.

For fucks sake.

Clearly, he’s surprised to see you as well, eyes widening in realization.

Nostrils flaring and eye twitching, you walk towards him to shake his hand stiffly, mood worsening.

You’re not sure what to do at this point. How are you supposed to work with a team that was a complete asshole to you? It’s one thing to just have a class together, but to make a whole collaborative piece with each other that has to be presented? You have no idea how you’re supposed to pull this off. You’re going to have to suck it up. God, you hate not being able to say what you want to say.

Your internal monologue drowns out the sound of the crowd, so much so that you don’t notice the Kim guy chasing you as you practically race away from the podium. Finally, he manages to catch your attention when you meet with your team members at the back of the hall. Turning around, you’re surprised to see him in front of you.

“May I speak with you? In private?” he asks, voice steady.

There are hundreds of people in the hall right now, how did he even follow you? Your eyebrow raises, arms crossing in front of your chest as your mood worsens. Eyes narrowing, your head tilts to the side, processing his request. You can feel your team stare between the two of you awkwardly, already distancing themselves, clearly feeling the tension between you and this stranger.

“Please?” he begs.

Curious about what he has to say, you accept, walking with him. You turn around to nod at Lisa’s concerned eyes, comforting her clear apprehension at this stranger asking for alone time with you. He takes you to an empty hall, just outside the door of the event. At first, you don’t say a word, waiting for him to speak first out of spite.

“I want to apologize. For before,” he begins after taking a deep breath in preparation. His voice is soft and nonoffending, surprising you. You thought that he might meet your cold behaviour with anger, but he doesn’t.

“What one of my crew members said about you, was uncalled for. I’m going to kick him off; he’s a complete dick. I’m sorry for my team disturbing you too, we can get a bit loud when we’re all together. I was an asshole for not being considerate,” he explains, biting his lip when you remain silent. He thinks that you hate him even more now, but in actuality, your interest is piqued. He's taking responsibility for the whole team? He's going to kick him off?

“How do I know that you’re not just saying that because we have to work together?” you question, tone distant and apathetic.

“I- Uhm… You don’t. And… Uhm…” he stutters, trying to collect the right words to say, “That’s ok. You don’t have to accept, I just want to apologize for everything,” he affirms, his eyes meeting yours to convey his sincerity.

Finally, he nods, turning around to enter the hall once again. You start to feel guilty; it seems like he’s being genuine and you act cold towards him the entire time. Based on this interaction, he isn't the asshole you thought he was. Before you even realize what you’re doing, your hand shoots out to grasp at his wrist, stopping him. Immediately, he turns around to face you.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you start, icy disposition from before melting a little bit, "I also want to apologize for snapping at you. I was mad, but I shouldn't have directed all my anger at you," you add before flinching away from him, noticing that you're still holding his hand. Against your wishes, you start to flush in embarrassment. But to your relief, you can visualize the tension leaving his body at your acceptance.

“I have to say, I was kinda acting like a primo bitch to you. I’m surprised that you didn’t get angry,” you admit, wanting to poke at him a little bit.

“I don’t really get mad,” he shrugs, but not in a bragging manner, “Plus, I kinda deserved it,” he banters, nose crinkling cutely at his joke. You don’t even notice the giggle you let out at his self-deprecating comment, enjoying that he has a sense of humour.

“Anyways, can we start over?” he pauses after he extends the last syllable, head jutting out to indicate that he's requesting your name.

“Y/F/N. Ballet dancer, captain of EDC; Elevate Dance Company,” you elaborate. He nods in understanding before extending his hand for a handshake. Your heart picks up involuntarily, taking his hand gently.

“What about you? As tempting as it is, I can’t just call you Kim the entire time,” you tease. His head cocks to the side in confusion.

“How do you know my last name?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“You were wearing your hoodie in the auditorium. Your last name is on your shoulder,” you deadpan, eyebrows raising as you point at his bicep.

“Oh… Oh! Y- Yeah… Right…” he stutters. You smirk slightly, not knowing why he’s so flustered at your keen observation.

“I’m Yugyeom. Kim Yugyeom. Urban dancer, captain of the Pulse Crew. Nice to meet you.”

✧✧✧

One season ends and planning for the next one starts right after. You never really get a break, do you?

You handed your notes to your director after the gala ended, their expression disappointed when they see the low word count. You practically got rinsed for it, so you tried to defend yourself. They didn't understand.

Just add that to the long list of things you have to worry about.

You’re taking the company technique class that Janelle teaches, but your mind is preoccupied. Not only did you get your ass handed to you by your director, but you’re also supposed to start planning for your piece, plus the piece that you have to collab with Yugyeom for.

All your dancers have lovingly declined to collaborate, as far as you know at least. Maybe they’re scared, but you’re not sure. They also didn’t exactly specify how many people should participate. Furthermore, you have no idea how you and Yugyeom are going to mix artistically. How are you even going to pull this off? Well, speaking of, you’re going to have lunch with him after class today, just to discuss how the stage is going to work. At least, that’s how he framed it via text.

You’re so distracted by your own worries that you completely mess up the grande allegro across the floor. You feel so stiff, your waltz is sloppy, jeté isn’t as high off the ground as it usually is, and your arabesque balance isn’t even a balance with your supporting leg being weak as shit.

It isn’t your day, so relief washes over you when the class is dismissed. With a final trio of curtsies, you clear your throat to make an announcement.

“So, I’m sure that you all know that we have a collab stage opportunity with Pulse Crew. If you want to participate with a piece, send the request to the company email. I'm actually meeting with the captain in a couple of minutes so I have to run,” you inform them, trailing off when they start to eye you suspiciously. Before you have a chance to ask them about it, you spot a familiar face at the door to the studio.

Yugyeom.

The difference between stage Yugyeom and normal Yugyeom is striking, you find. Hair is fluffy and unkempt instead of meticulously styled, eyes soft instead of sharp. He looks especially comfy today wearing all black; an oversized graphic hoodie, fitted sweats, and combat boots. You stifle a giggle when you see his tall ass hit his head on the aerial silks that hang from the ceiling. For a dancer, he’s pretty clumsy.

“Speaking of, this is Yugyeom, captain of the Pulse Crew,” you introduce, gathering your things as you walk towards him. He waves at you and your team shyly.

“See you guys tomorrow,” you finish, walking out the door with him, leaving your team behind with many answered questions.

✧✧✧

“So… You were talking about me?" he asks, a shit-eating grin all over his face. You roll your eyes at him, unimpressed.

“You know, you didn’t have to come pick me up or anything. I could’ve made it there by myself, you know?” you say, changing the subject as fast as you can. You also notice that you have to look up to talk to him for an extended period of time. Tall ass.

“Yeah but, I was an asshole to you, remember?” Yugyeom recalls, “Gotta make amends, you know?” he pokes fun at himself light-heartedly. You can’t help but chuckle at his reminder, remembering that he saw you save his name as The Asshole on your phone.

“You’re right. You were an asshole,” you deadpan, staring at him blankly before you both burst out laughing, clutching at your stomach.

“Ok, well… I’m going to get out of this leotard and skirt, and I’ll meet you outside,” you inform him, giggling through the sentence before walking back towards the change rooms. Because your back is turned to him, you don’t notice the shy smile that spreads across his face.

✧✧✧

Yugyeom’s drink of choice at a coffee shop is an iced choco.

Interesting.

Another thing about him that surprises you.

He also despises spicy food, judging by the way he winces when you order a spicy chicken sandwich to accompany your iced black tea. You tease him for not being able to handle it.

“I just don’t like spicy food, ok? It’s like, being in pain just to eat. Why would anyone want that?” he quips, pouting before he takes a bite out of his burger. Just by the way he practically scarfs down his food, it’s probably because he’s too impatient to eat it.

“The pain is part of the taste, the experience,” you try to convey, swirling your tea around before sipping it out of your straw. You swear that you hear him mutter fuckin’ masochist under his breath, raising your eyebrow at him. He grins, challenging you, but know that he’s just teasing.

“So anyway, how are we going to pull this off? I mean, our styles are pretty different and I don’t even know where to start,” you shrug, puffing your cheeks out before exhaling, slumping into your chair. Yugyeom tilts his head and leans back as well, crossing his arms in thought.

“You do ballet, right? I do hip-hop. We’ll just… mix them together? I’m sure that we can meet in the middle… like contemporary? Or open category?” he suggests. That isn't a bad idea. Contemporary has ballet elements but isn't nearly as technique-heavy as ballet is. Plus, you have experience in it, as it was a mandatory part of your dance training when you were younger.

“I took a masterclass on it, like, twice. About a year ago,” he continues, pleasantly surprising you. He actually went out of his genre? Not only is this guy a great dancer, but he's also willing to expand his knowledge as well. One more thing about Yugyeom that surprises you.

“Ok. So, we first pick a song, choreograph, then do it right? I took contemporary classes for a couple of years so it might work for us,” you suggest. Yugyeom inhales through his teeth, cocking his head to disagree.

“I mean, we don’t have to pick a song now. I would just get in the studio and see what happens,” he differs, “It doesn’t have to be step by step or anything.”

At first, you’re reluctant. You don’t know how that’ll work out. You usually go into a choreography session with a song planned, along with how much you want to choreograph, and the techniques you’re going to implement in them. This method that Yugyeom has… It’s definitely different but you’re not opposed to it.

“I mean, whenever I get stumped, I usually just get in the studio and improv. Whatever happens, just happens,” he advises, trying to convince you further. You hum in thought, processing his advice. You’re not very good at improv, but you decide to take up his suggestion.

“Ok, let’s try it,” you comply, “Where should be practice? Your studio? Mine?”

“How about you come to mine first, then I’ll go to yours?  We can alternate until the showcase next year,” he answers. He sees your facial expression drop slightly, knowing that you’re apprehensive due to the experience you had with them previously.

“They’ll be good this time. If not, I’ll make them,” he assures, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. Oddly, his promise eases your worries, so you agree.

“So what? We start with you teaching me how to krump?” you question, laughing at the possibility of yourself stiffly going through choreography that is completely out of your comfort zone, “You’ll just think that I’m a shit dancer.”

Yugyeom’s forehead creases at your self-deprecating comment, frowning.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve seen you dance, you’re good at what you do,” he encourages, a flush beginning to creep up his neck when he compliments you.

“Wait, you’ve seen me dance?” you ask. He giggles when you blink in momentary confusion.

“Showcase, remember? You had a solo piece, with a dark green skirt?” he tries to remind you, “I was in the audience when you performed it.”

“Oh!” you realize, eyes widening when he effectively jogs your memory. It was a contemporary ballet piece that you did en pointe, choreographed by yourself. You can’t help but feel bashful at the compliment, a small smile creeping out. Taking a bite out of your spicy chicken sandwich, you try to hide your expression from him. It doesn’t work though, Yugyeom smirking as he notices your change in demeanor. It seems like you don’t take compliments well, so he can’t help but investigate that further.

“I’m not kidding. I mean, as your resident ballet expert,” he starts sarcastically, making you snort humorously when you drink your iced tea, “I think that you’re really talented. That piece that you choreographed was really good. I was paying attention, believe it or not. Your formation changes were so flawless, it was like I didn’t even notice that your dancers were moving. How’d you even manage that?” he inquires, catching you off guard when his attention focuses on you, one hundred percent. Did he pay attention? Pausing, you look up to the ceiling as you formulate your thoughts.

“I just made traveling steps… Interesting? I guess? Like, whenever I want my dancers to move to a specific place, I always choreograph it a way that looks like a piece of choreo itself,” you start, seeing Yugyeom nod in understanding, “It’s like, if I make the traveling step look like it's not a traveling step, people don't notice that it's actually there. I wanted to make it as seamless as possible, I think. Adding peel-offs or canons into a new formation is also a good… Way too…" you trail off, noticing that you're talking a lot.

“Sorry, I ramble when I talk about dance,” you admit sheepishly, brushing your hair back as a force of habit.

“Nah, it’s ok. I like it. You’re passionate about your work,” he assures you.

This guy is quite the sweetheart.

“Keep going,” he encourages. Talking to someone about dance is one thing, but talking about your work with someone who has such a different perspective from you is refreshing.  

Before you know it, three full hours pass by so quickly that you don’t take note of it until the waiter informs you of the time. He places the bill on the counter, visibly annoyed that he’s had to stay past his shift to get his tip. Apologizing, you quickly attempt to reach for the bill before Yugyeom does. Unfortunately for you, he has the same idea, pulling at the tray towards your respective directions simultaneously.

“I’ll take it. I was an asshole, remember?” he tries to convince, tugging at the bill forcefully. You squint your eyes challengingly, unyielding.

“It’s ok, Yugyeom. You’re giving me a ride, I’ll pay,” you argue.

“No can do, Y/N,” he challenges, adamant. You huff, trying to think of a way to change his position. Finally, you decide on a fair way to determine who’s going to pay the bill.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” you suggest, holding out your clenched fist. At first, Yugyeom says nothing, eyes wide and doe-like as he stares at your face. You’re a bit confused, but the feeling dissipates when he nods, finally agreeing with your offer. To your satisfaction, you win, scissors to paper. After you both make a childish fuss about the winner, Yugyeom removes his hand from the tray, reluctantly allowing you to pay for the food. At long last, you both leave with minds full of ideas.

✧✧✧

The ride back to your place is quiet but comfortable. Hushed music plays from the speakers in the car, the upbeat hip-hop trap beats from before changing to slow R&B. The roads are dark at this hour, the only sources of light illuminating your sight being the car dash.

The silence makes you contemplative. Tilting your head towards the driver’s seat, Yugyeom’s face is lit up briefly when he stops next to a street light. Within that moment, his features are made clear to you; dark hair, wavy and curled charmingly to the side to expose his forehead, aristocratically tall nose, long eyelashes that make you envious, a charismatic mole placed right underneath his eye. Once the light source disappears, you’re snapped back into reality, blinking away from his face to fix your eyes on the road in front of you.

You’re nervous, for some reason. Yes, he’s attractive to you, but you would be fine if that was it. It’s also not like Yugyeom makes you uncomfortable either. If anything, being around him makes you surprisingly relaxed, his upbeat ‘go with the flow’ aura seemingly transferring to you. You’re not sure why you’re feeling this way, but the hem of your coat is becoming very interesting to look at. Your fingers move to fiddle with the fabric to distract yourself. You're so preoccupied with your own thoughts that Yugyeom's voice cuts through the quiet environment of the car, making you jump in your seat.

“We’re here,” he states, shifting the gear to park as his head gestures at your apartment building. Picking up your purse and taking out your key fob, you thank him for the ride.

“Text me when you’re inside,” he tells you, “Thanks for the food, too.”

Your heart warms up at his kind words. Wordlessly, you smile and nod before leaving. Once you hit the door of your apartment, you send him a text, as you promised.

You:

I’m home. Thanks for the ride.

The Asshole:

Good. I’ll see you soon for our first practice 😊

I’ll send the address later cuz I’m sleepy ☹

Come with something comfy

Wear sweatpants and sneakers lmfao leave the skirt at home

Good night.

You grin almost stupidly looking at your phone, careful about making any noise since Lisa is probably asleep at this late hour. For the first time in a long time, you feel artistically invigorated, inspired by your three-hour discussion with Yugyeom about your favourite subject. Dancing with him might not be so bad.

✧✧✧

[relevé series] ⤏ [pt. 2]

all rights reserved © 2021 aura-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 2 (adage) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff because they're whipped for each other it’s gross :(

word count: 6.6k+

warnings: cursing (duh), intense pining with sexual tension and y/n is not about it, suggestive sexual content

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

author’s note: this is shaping up to be longer than i initially planned lmao. what’s new? just me not sticking to my word count plan. anyways, i am loving relevè au yugy, he’s so fun to write and he’s becoming my fav :))) 

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

Yugyeom walks into his apartment at a late hour after meeting with you, surprised to see that his best friend, fellow Pulse Crew member, and roommate, BamBam, is still up. 

He's currently situated in their shared living room, a single lamp illuminating the space with a dim, yet warm glow. BamBam is currently playing around with Yugyeom's dog, Dalkyum, and his cat, Cupcake, cooing as he scratches at their bellies. Under normal circumstances, BamBam should be sleeping by now. Yugyeom doesn't say it, but his heart warms to see his best friend wait up for him.

"Dude. Where've you been? I texted you, like… Five fuckin’ times and you didn't answer a single one," he states in an almost scolding tone, worried but choosing not to show it. Luckily for BamBam, Yugyeom can read through the lines.

"Picked up Y/N and had a meeting with her for the collab thing after work. We ended up talking for way longer than I thought that we would," Yugyeom answers, his mind wandering to you a couple of hours ago, prettily sitting in front of him in a café drinking iced black tea and eating God awful spicy food.

"Ah. Y/N, the captain of EDC? The one you have to work with?" BamBam questions, understanding once he sees Yugyeom's head nod in confirmation, "Is she hot?"

Yugyeom lets out a heavy huff as he slumps onto the floor beside his best friend, remembering your pretty face and your pretty hair pulled up. He recalls the way your eyes lit up when he asked you about your choreography, the way you maintained passionate conversation about the art that you both love. You might look like a stereotypical classically trained dancer with nice lines and great technique, but there's a fire; a spark; that Yugyeom sees in your eyes- he can't help but be attracted to it.

"Yeah. She is," Yugyeom pauses, gesturing at BamBam to toss him the pillow from the couch behind him, catching it before speaking into it, "She's smart. So smart. And gorgeous," he mumbles, the sound of his voice tamped down by the fabric of the cushion.

"You gonna ask her out?" BamBam questions, right after a throaty laugh escapes his mouth at Yugyeom's admission, slapping his best friend's back out of habit. However, he notices that Yugyeom is sulking, slumped against the cushion he stole from their couch. BamBam isn't sure why, so Yugyeom attempts to explain. He expresses that he would love to ask you out, but you don't seem very interested in him, let alone relationships at all. That's what Yugyeom tells himself, at least. In actuality, he doesn't know what you're thinking at all.

Normally, he can read someone like an open book; feel out the moods and emotions of the people he has conversations with. But, you're the anomaly. You might be the first person that Yugyeom has difficulties figuring out, and it both intrigues, and scares him. Add that to the growing list of things that draws him to you. Fortunately, his energy is lifted when his dog seems to comprehend his mood, Dalkyum crawling into his lap to nuzzle into the crease of his arm. Sighing in relief, Yugyeom scratches at Dalkyum's fluffy coat, finally smiling when Dalkyum's little head peeks out from his elbow, peering up at him cutely.

On the other hand, BamBam is a bit surprised by his best friend's current disposition. Yugyeom is no stranger to dating around. Just based on history, BamBam knows that Yugyeom has had and is comfortable with having one-night stands and casual relationships with plenty of women. So, the fact that Yugyeom has only spoken to you a handful of times and is so hung up on you is pretty major; in BamBam's opinion, at least.

Not one to witness his best friend stewing in their insecurities, BamBam makes it his mission to hype Yugyeom up as much as possible before turning in for the night. Yugyeom is grateful to hear his confidence-boosting comments, in which BamBam chooses to include a long 'plenty of fish in the sea' rant to finish off before going to bed. As much as Yugyeom wants to believe him a hundred percent, he just can't. Even with his mind preoccupied with the need to sleep at this late hour, there's a little whisper, an inkling in his subconscious that suggests that BamBam is wrong. 

✧✧✧

"So. You were out late last night," Lisa inquires, voice way too high-pitched to be genuine, eyes boring into yours before taking a bite out of her toast. Already understanding where this morning's conversation is going to go, you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"It was for work," you defend, firm in your position, "Which we both have. In an hour," you remind her, tone curt.

A deafening silence takes over the kitchen table, interrupted by the awkward slurp of the straw when Lisa drink's out of it. Her head is cocking to the side as her eyebrows raise, expecting you to add more to your sentence. To her dismay, you aren't cracking, so she wants to press a little more.

"He's cute. Mind if I ask him out?" she asks jokingly before sipping out of straw slyly. Unfortunately for you, you're unable to control the way your nostrils flare.

"Who's cute?" you bluff, trying to feign ignorance. At this point, Lisa's eyes stay a hundred percent focused on your expression, wanting to catch all of your facial indications when you lie. Leaning back in your chair in defiance, you remain stubborn.

"You know," Lisa pauses for dramatic effect, leaning in, "Exactly who I'm talking about," she suggests smugly, smirking when you freeze in the middle of drinking from your glass. You know that you're bad at lying, plus you're acting all weird. It's not your fault that you can't control your habits when you lie. Letting out a breath in defeat, you slump against your chair, crossing your arms.

"Fine. What do you wanna know?" you exhale, pressing your thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of your nose. You can tell that Lisa is attempting to keep her giddiness under wraps, judging by the sound of her feet tapping the hardwood floor endlessly.

"Oh, you know, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome picked you up from practice yesterday, next thing I know you come back home at midnight…" she trails off suggestively, eyebrows wiggling and tone laced with indecent intention.

"Nothing happened. We just talked about work," you reply half-heartedly, avoiding eye contact. Lisa taps at your shoulder and gets into your personal space, trying to get you to elaborate further. You sigh, feeling exasperated at her undying persistence.

Just saying that you had dinner together makes Lisa absolutely elated, hands coming together in a small clap as a wide grin spreads across her face. You're not a fan of the way your face wants to extend into a smile, the way your cheeks start to become warm when you talk about Yugyeom, reminiscing on your enlightening conversation about your shared craft. Once you start talking about your collaborative stage, her excitement seems to increase ten-fold.

"This is a good look for you. I'm a fan of this new Y/N, working with new people, getting out there," she starts. However, her overjoyed expression drops when she sees you become antsy, stirring your cereal aimlessly as if you're uncomfortable.

"Are you ok?" she pries gently, eyes softening empathically. You pause, unsure why you're having difficulties in explaining how you feel to her. Normally, you have no issue sharing your thoughts with her. It's not like you're uncomfortable with her; if anything, that definitely isn't what's bothering you. It takes a bit for you to collect your thoughts, biting your lip before speaking.

"I just. I don't know," you deflect initially before continuing, "He's like… He's attractive. Physically. Objectively. To me. But we have to work together, and you know that I don't like involving my personal life with work, and it's just-"

"Just what?" Lisa interrupts, eager for you to reveal more, "Just what Y/N?"

"It's just a crush," you say, sounding more annoyed than you initially intended, "I'll just get over it, then we'll go our separate ways once we're done," you continue as if you're trying to convince both her and yourself.

Despite how blasé you seem; you frown internally the second that the words leave your mouth. Even though you've only had a couple of conversations with him, you enjoy hanging out with Yugyeom, work-related or not. You've been stuck in a rut lately, but meeting with him made you feel more inspired than you've ever felt in a long time. You love to dance, you know that you do, but it's becoming routine; a job, when it shouldn't be. But being around Yugyeom, having his free, bright energy surrounding and seeping into the room he's in, satisfies a part of you that you can't quite put your finger on.

Are you disappointed that it won't be anything more?

You shake your head, ignoring your thoughts before you continue, "And that's it. It's definitely not as exciting as you think it is."

Unbeknownst to you, Lisa remains unconvinced, even after your best efforts to justify how you feel. Fortunately, she takes mercy on you, leaving the conversation there before packing your things and heading to the studio. You have a lot of work cut out for you, and fussing about some guy isn't an effective way of getting shit done.

✧✧✧  

He should text you.

Yugyeom shakes his head, pacing up and down the hallway of his studio building.

No, he shouldn't. He doesn't want to bother you. You're probably busy. You seem like a busy person.

But, Yugyeom is being tempted by a notification on his phone, informing him of free studio space. Someone must have canceled because it just opened up for tomorrow, and Yugyeom really wants to use it. Not only does he want that studio space to work on the collab, but he also wants to spend time with you, and he doesn't even try to deny it. 

He likes you. A lot. He's completely comfortable with admitting that. But he doesn't want to be presumptuous, worried that he'll scare you off by seeming too eager. Do you even consider him as a friend yet? Acquaintance? Yugyeom doesn't even know if you even like him, let alone want to be friends with him.

Placing his hands on his hips, he exhales up to the ceiling with a slump of his shoulders. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he finally shoots you a message.

Me:

So I was thinking about coming up with something tomorrow. Are you free?

I have a room booked at my studio so I'll send u the address morning of

When do you want me to go to yours? 😊

Immediately after sending the text, he becomes anxious.

He's just holding off hope that you agree.

✧✧✧

Nothing's working.

Nothing's fuckin' working and you're supposed to be on lunch break but you can't because nothing is working and you might end up pulling your hair out by the end of the day and-

Oh wait, you have a French twist in your hair with a pound of hairspray in it so you can't even do that either.

Lovely.

Fucking fantastic.

Three hours into a choreography session with only 16 counts done. Frustrated that the movements aren't getting out of your brain into your body, you lay down on the spring flooring, shutting your eyes to the bright lights. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the sound of the fan spinning in the studio, unsure what to do next.

First, you think about asking Lisa. Unfortunately, she's teaching a class right now so that isn't an option. Second, you think about asking Janelle, but she's at a physio appointment. Third, you think about listening to the music again, but that's all you did for the last two hours to no avail. Opening your eyes, you tilt your head towards your laptop, spotting your phone that sits beside your laptop. 

Your mind wanders, eventually appealing to the devil resting on your shoulder, who's telling you to ask Yugyeom for assistance. At this point, you're desperate, so you decide to go against your better judgment. Peeling your exhausted body off of the floor, you trample gracelessly towards your phone, opening it to text him. To your surprise, he already sent you a message 30 minutes ago, asking you if you're free for studio time tomorrow.

Tomorrow sounds good to you, but you're feeling especially terrible at the moment. Maybe Yugyeom can take you out of this rut that you're in.

You:

How about today? As in right now?

Sorry if this is too sudden I just have major choreo block rn ☹

It's ok if u can't come

The Asshole:

Nah it's chill

I have to teach in 3 hrs but it prob won't take that long

I'll be there in 30

Did u eat yet

You:

Don't get me food

The Asshole:

Y'all hear sumn?

Do u like croissants?

I'll get u a croissant

Almond or chocolate? Plain? Cheese? Idk I'll just guess

Plus iced black tea right

Your heart flutters unwillingly when you read the name of your favourite drink on the screen. It's the smallest gesture, the tiniest thing really, but the fact that he remembers from dinner makes you even more excited for his company than you already are. Why does he have to be so nice? It's like it runs in his genes or something, and it baffles you.

Yugyeom is right though. You haven't had any food since 8 in the morning, so you could use something to eat. You think that it'll help your current situation, so you take up his offer, requesting an almond croissant hesitantly. He's so sweet, it's making it really hard for you not to like him. The minutes tick past at a snail's pace until your phone screen lights up, an exhale escaping your lips as relief washes over you.

The Asshole:

I'm here at the front with ur food 😊

Once you see his message, you practically race down the stairs without taking your pointe shoes off, passing Lisa on the way out of her class. Missing her greeting completely, Lisa yelps as you fly past her, the hard shank of your shoes clacking against the floor. You spot Yugyeom at the front desk, facing the sweet elderly woman, Muriel the receptionist, that's stationed there. She waves at you from behind the desk, tapping Yugyeom's forearm to get him to turn around. Making it there, you greet Muriel with a smile and a nod of your head, turning to give your attention to him.

"I'm here," he pauses, lifting up a brown paper bag and your drink in a plastic cup, "With the goods," he finishes, shaking both items in the air goofily.

You cover your mouth as a giggle escapes, taking his little gift in your hands as you thank him in a shy voice.

"You didn't have to get me food. I told you not to," you remind him sheepishly, the tips of your ears and your cheeks beginning to warm up when you spot an almond croissant in the paper bag.

"I told you it was ok. Plus, I wanted a drink too," he replies, a hand moving to the back of his neck to rub at it bashfully. Indicating that he bought a drink for himself, he lifts his own cup. Just by looking at the colour, you can see that it's an iced choco, silently laughing at his predictability. You open your mouth to introduce him to Muriel, but she speaks before you have the chance.

"Yugyeom here was telling me that you guys are doing a collab stage!" she exclaims excitedly, letting you know that he already introduced himself to her, "Now isn't that fun! Working with each other, I mean. He's very handsome, Y/N, you two are just so sweet," she gushes from her office chair, eyeing the both of you through her reading glasses with a gentle smile. Just by her tone, you can gather that she thinks that there's more to your relationship with him than what's actually there.

"Mhm. We're just friends, working together," you fix, embarrassed, "Thanks for the good talk, Muriel," you end, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie in the direction of the stairs to walk away. Yugyeom, however, has a different opinion, planting himself in front of the receptionist, unmoving. His heartbeat picks up when you confirm your friendship with him, nudging your shoulder with his elbow shyly.  But at the same time, he can't help but feel discouraged once the phrase 'just friends' reaches his ears. Clearing his throat, he attempts to cover up his disappointment.

On the other hand, you choose to ignore the first point by humming ambiguously, hoping that Yugyeom will forego the fact that you essentially admitted that he's handsome.

"Alright, we gotta go," you rush awkwardly, pushing him away from the conversation he's having, hoping to cover up how flustered you feel.

"It was nice meeting you!" Yugyeom yells, waving at her before turning the corner to the stairs. You have to take a deep breath; your cheeks feel like they're burning up.

"She's sweet," he observes as you both walk up the stairs, stopping at the door to the room.

"Take your shoes off, we can't have any scuffs in here," you warn, pointing in the direction of the shoe rack before walking towards the mirror, setting your food and drink on the bench. Once he's situated, he plants himself in front of you, sitting down with his long legs extending towards you.

"I feel like I've done everything," you exhale tiredly, "I know that everyone gets choreo block and I know that I'll get over it but like… It sucks so bad. I don't know what to do," you pout, slumping beside him, placing your forehead in your palms.

Yugyeom's heart drops when he sees you so discouraged, fully understanding how you feel in this situation. As an artist, being unable to create something can be incredibly frustrating, especially when you feel uninspired. Not only does he sympathize with that, but he also recognizes that it feels worse as a leader, as the captain. There's a lot of pressure up there, and Yugyeom, out of all people, is able to understand you more than most.

"I just… I want to yell or something," you exclaim, laying your back on the floor with your hands over your eyes. 

"Do it," he suggests, laying down to join you on the floor, "Do it if it makes you feel better."

Your brows furrow at his suggestion, tilting your head towards his face before speaking.

"I can't."

"Why not? No one's here except us. Door is closed. Just do it for a second. Or yell into your jacket or something," he replies, similarly tilting his head towards your face to talk to you directly. Pausing, you process his advice silently, eventually deciding to take it. Walking towards the coat rack, you grab your jacket before making your way back to him. Placing your jacket in the palms of your hands, you peer over to Yugyeom in hesitation.

"Just do it, Y/N. Nike. Shia LeBeouf that shit," he encourages, sitting up from his previous position.

"But-"

"Here, I'll go first," he offers, interrupting you as he takes the jacket from your grasp. Before you can even protest, he's yelling into it for a couple of seconds, stomping and jumping up and down. Once his little outburst is finished, he hands your jacket back, leaving you flabbergasted at his abrupt and chaotic act.

"Oh. My. God. Yugyeom! What the hell?" you call out, eyes darting towards to door and the window anxiously, worried that someone will come through with a noise complaint.

"See? It's easy."

"Wait, Gyeom… I-"

"Do it."

"But-"

"DO IT!"

"OK!" you exclaim loudly, pressing the fabric to your lips before screaming all of your frustrations into it, shutting your eyes closed, and shaking your head for good measure. Finishing with an exuberant breath, you crumple back onto the floor beside him, leaving your jacket forgotten.

"Feel better?" he asks, smiling when he sees a visual weight lifting off your shoulders.

"Honestly? Yeah. A little," you acknowledge, noticing that the process is actually rather cathartic for yourself, "My choreo block is still there but I feel better."

He hums in approval before rolling onto his side to face you, resting his elbow on the floor to press his cheek against his palm cutely.

"See? Like, I get that you still have choreo block and that's terrible. But even when you're having a hard time you could just do something that makes yourself feel better, even if it isn't related to what you're struggling with. Even if you feel like shit, just be ok with it and move on. It'll pass eventually," he advises.

"That's… Oddly wise, Gyeom," you recognize, satisfied when you seem him get all modest and bashful.

"Gyeom?" he asks, tilting his head to the side at the nickname. Your mouth drops open, eventually realizing that the nickname you gave him in the heat of your catharsis seemed to stick. You begin to apologize, but Yugyeom stops you, assuring you that it's a common nickname that his friends give him. He persuades that you just happened to get to it early.

"Ok, I'm gonna suggest something," he starts, pausing to ensure that you're down to accept his advice, "How about we start on our collab thing right now? I know that it won't help your choreo block for whatever you were doing before, but sometimes working on something else will help. How about it?"

You cock your head to the side in thought, knowing that his suggestion is not something you would usually do yourself. Normally, you would just focus on one piece at one time. But unfortunately for you, nothing is working for the piece that you're working on.

Ultimately, you accept that you're too drained to add anything else to your choreography for the day, so you agree with him before reaching down to your feet to remove your pointe shoes.

Yugyeom watches in fascination as you undo the knot in the ribbon, unwrapping the fabric from your ankles before forcing the shoes off of your feet with a clumsy grunt. Luckily, you always opt for tights with the holes on the bottom of the feet, allowing you to remove your toe pads, revealing the tape on your joints, holding together the toe spacers and wool. Letting out a laboured breath, you finally feel relief when your feet are freed from the rigid pointe shoes. Grabbing at the soles, you massage the sore muscle of your arch, rolling your ankles around in alleviation.

He curses, eyes widening when he spots the bruising, scars, and old scabs littered on your feet, normal for any company dancer. Your attention shifts towards him, giggling when you see his shook expression.

"This is normal, I promise," you reassure before pointing at a specifically memorable scab, "This one was when I had to learn a variation and they made me rehearse it for three hours. My tape started to rub off and now I have a crusty fuckin' scab here," you continue, sounding oddly satisfied at your injuries. Yugyeom is confused by you once again, calling you a masochist for the second time.

"First spicy food, now this shit."

"Ok, I get where you're coming from, but I like to see that I've been working hard! It's like… Super satisfying," you defend, watching his face grimace.

"You're… Something else, Y/N," he judges, but you know that he's only half-serious by the way that he smirks at you.

"Alright, let's get started."

✧✧✧

On the drive back home, you reminisce on your first choreography session with Yugyeom.

Once you both experimented with individual improvisation, it didn't take long for you two to agree on a concept.

It didn't take long for you two to decide on a song either; it looks like you both have similar tastes.

To compensate for the fact that you weren't feeling particularly artistically inspired at the moment, Yugyeom volunteered to choreograph the first section.

You were admittedly worried at the beginning. You weren't sure how you two were going to blend artistically, plus the fact that your respective genres are so different concerned you. Luckily, you now know that Yugyeom is a great dancer to work with. Yes, he's different, but he's kind, nice, receptive to new ideas, creative, and laid-back. Emphasis on kind and nice, because he is seriously the kindest, nicest person you've ever met.

There was a group of kids that were running up and down the stairs, making a ton of noise that normally would have caused you to curse them all out (professionally, of course). Once your nostrils started flaring and your jaw started clenching, Yugyeom made sure to calm you down before walking to the door himself, gently telling the kids to quiet down, before resuming what he was doing without a sweat. It really does look like he doesn't get angry. He definitely kept his word on that.

Speaking of creative, Yugyeom suggested putting in a "spin section, you know, that thing that you guys do", in which he goofily demonstrated his own decrepit version of what seemed to be a standard single pirouette. It was admittingly hilarious, so much so that your cheeks hurt just from smiling when you think about it. You even tried to teach him how to do one, with the correct technique and everything.

First, you attempted to carefully explain the mechanics behind turning; the muscles that are engaged, the positioning of the upper body, and the importance of retire height. You're not even sure that he was paying attention though, judging by the way his facial expression went blank five minutes in. Second, you demonstrated one in front of him, his cheer effectively boosting your ego.

He tried it again and he was still terrible, but it was fun for you regardless. You remember his nose scrunching, legs bent, and arms tensing in a fashion that made him look like a lanky scarecrow. Yugyeom was trying so hard to execute it properly; you couldn't help but find it endearing. A weird satisfaction took over you when you grabbed at Yugyeom's foot to pull his retire up higher, making him yelp hilariously. For such a good dancer, he's also ironically, incredibly inflexible. You should get him to stretch some time, it would make your practices even more fun for you.

The only drawback when working with Yugyeom is that two have some difficulties staying on task. Normally, this isn't an issue when you work alone, but sometimes, he makes it so fucking hard to focus. It's like one second you guys are making great progress on your piece, but the next does something in the background that looks ridiculous from the corner of your eye, making you bust a lung from laughing so hard. The whole experience was different from your process; you're not used to the laid-back energy of the environment he creates. You thought that you've felt it before but this is an entirely new thing.

You can't help but admit that it's a nice change.

A really nice change.

✧✧✧

The minute you walk into Yugyeom's studio building, the difference is striking.

You're used to the light-coloured walls pasted with framed photos of previous company productions, bright lighting, pointe shoes littering the shelves, and high ceilings. Here, the lighting is dimmer, the space is sparsely decorated with bare, dark grey walls extending from the foyer to the hallway.

Pacing up to the receptionist's desk, you see two other people leaning against it, making conversation with each other. Not wanting to intrude, you wait patiently to the side until the bright-haired, slim-looking guy wearing yellow-tinted sunglasses (indoors?) makes eye contact with you. Graciously, he taps at the receptionist's shoulder, gesturing towards you as they turn around. Once they spot you, they apologize profusely for making you wait, scrambling towards your side of the desk in their office chair. Peeking out from behind the monitor screen, they request for the purpose of your visit.

You respond that you're there to meet with Yugyeom, as he told you that he booked studio space to work on your shared piece. Waiting for the receptionist to confirm and allow you access, you take your phone out to text Yugyeom of your arrival. Unbeknownst to you, the second that the sentence leaves your mouth, the same guy with bright hair turns his head sharply towards your face. At first, you're confused. Surely, he's looking at someone else, your eyes blinking rapidly before darting in front and behind you.

"Are you Y/N?" the stranger asks, surprising you.

You confirm his question, but trail off out of suspicion, not sure why this random guy knows who you are. The stranger opens his mouth to probably ask another question, but your gaze meets a tall figure behind him, making their way closer to the back of the desk. As the figure gets closer, you squint, recognizing that it's The Asshole himself, Yugyeom, clad in a navy-blue baseball cap covering up his fluffy dark hair, tight pants, and a long baggy sweatshirt.

You don't even notice the way that your eyes light up when you see his face, standing on your tiptoes to wave at him. Luckily, you manage to catch his attention, a smile spreading on your face when you see him wave back, increasing his speed to meet you from behind the desk.

"Hey," he says out of breath, eyes zoning in on yours. He notices that your trademark slicked-back updos has been replaced with a messy high ponytail, fastened using a large blue scrunchie. He also sees that you're not wearing your standard ensemble of leotard, skirt, and nude tights, instead opting for a comfortable combination of high-waisted joggers, cropped hoodie, and sneakers. Yugyeom sighs internally as the tips of his ears turn pink, not sure how you manage to look even prettier than yesterday.

"Hey to you too," you reply, oblivious to the thoughts running around in Yugyeom's head, "We ready to go?"

Yugyeom nods but is interrupted by someone in the background clearing their throat. You recognize that it's the bright-haired stranger, his arm tossing itself over Yugyeom's shoulders, probably wanting Yugyeom to introduce him to you. Just from watching the brief interaction between them, you can tell that they're probably good friends, Yugyeom rolling his eyes and nudging the stranger's ribcage with his elbow.

"Y/N, this is BamBam. He's annoying, but he's my best friend," Yugyeom introduces, BamBam choosing to make a handful of incoherent noises, clicking his teeth and shooting finger guns at you. Taken aback by his rambunctious and chaotic first impression, you carefully reach out to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. Hope that you're likin' my boy Yugyeom over here, cause he likes you," BamBam says, poking at Yugyeom's ribcage with his pointer finger.

You recoil at his forward nature, flabbergasted, yet awkward at the suggestion he makes. The notion of you 'liking' Yugyeom and vice versa make your cheeks warm up and your eyes widen in both nervousness and embarrassment. You try your best to remain neutral as you've always been, ignoring your turbulent emotions and heart beating out of your chest to the best of your ability.

Unrecognized by you, however, you're too preoccupied to notice that Yugyeom is mortified by his best friend's loose-lipped tendencies. He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, and what if you're not into him like that? All it would do is make you never want to talk to him again, and that's something that he doesn't want.

Brushing it off, he pushes BamBam off of his shoulders, the receptionist finally opening the turnstile to grant you entry. Leaving his best friend and biggest pain in the ass behind, Yugyeom leads you towards the studio room that he booked for you two.

"Sorry about him. He can be… A lot, sometimes," Yugyeom apologizes, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It's ok. He seems- Interesting, based on the fact that he's wearing tinted sunglasses indoors," you deadpan, grinning when you hear Yugyeom giggle at your sassy dig against his best friend.

"I'll be sure to tell him," Yugyeom replies before opening the studio door for you, guiding you inside with a welcoming hand.

✧✧✧

"Ok, hear me out," Yugyeom begins, out of breath due to a run-through of the choreography that you just completed, "Can you tut?"

"Uh. No, but I can try. Why?" you huff out between pants of exertion, equally as breathless as he is.

"Well, I was listening to the music and it has these fun ticks in it. Thought that a modified tutting section would be cool. Plus, I can teach you," he offers before you collectively slump onto the scuffed-up floor, exhausted.

Humming in thought, you process his request carefully as you crawl over to your water bottle, relief washing over when the ice-cold liquid hits your throat. As always with him, it's different. But you're out of juice and choreography to teach him, so you agree. Plus, you're curious. His choreography so far hasn't included a specific technique in his genre; maybe it's accidental or out of mercy for your inexperience, so you've never had to encounter it before. It's nerve-wracking, yet exciting to try something new. 

Yugyeom uses his tired arms to force himself onto his feet, trudging himself towards the stereo system to turn the music back on. At least, that's what you think that he's going to do. Instead, his hands grab at the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head without care. Unintentionally, your throat becomes dry when the t-shirt underneath rides up, revealing a toned abdomen, a trail of hair dipping underneath the waistband of his pants, and a large tattoo of a flower on his ribcage. Throwing the sweatshirt to the side, he pulls the fabric of his t-shirt back down, unwittingly disappointing you. But, his bare arms how in your line of vision.

Eyes following him to the stereo system, your gaze traces his arms and counts up the permanent art on his body. You spot script with another flower tattoo on his forearm, and upon further inspection, you determine that it's a dandelion.

Pretty.

You can't help but wonder what others he might have hidden underneath those clothes of his, but snap yourself out of such indecent thoughts, chastising yourself. You're moderately maddened that such a stereotypical physical feature adds to your inadvertent attraction to Yugyeom.

Once he makes it to the stereo system, the sound blares through the speakers in the studio, bass booming. He rewinds to the section you two need to work on, closing his eyes in concentration to focus on every beat and every count.

You're in awe when he transitions into improv mode seamlessly, not skipping a single beat as he comes up with choreography on the spot. Every practice you have had together so far involved teaching steps that you both already came up with, so you've never seen his process in person.

It's fascinating to see how he works compared to you, posture loose, arms sharp, yet carefree. He never halts his movements, not even when you think that he messes up, just choosing to ignore it by flowing into the next step without hesitation. 

This isn't brand new to you; how amazing of a dancer Yugyeom is, you mean. It was made evident when you first laid eyes on him, utterly magnetic on a stage draped with dark curtains and illuminated with flashing lights. Up close, however, without the aesthetic features of a full-fledged performance, is different. He might not be performing full out, but you're able to catch small, minute nuances from a close distance. You don't even notice that you're beginning to stare, unable to comprehend how he's able to be so loose and unrestrained, mesmerized by the fluidity he exhibits, contrasted by the striking beats and pulses of the music.

"What?" Yugyeom asks bashfully, self-conscious from your staring. His question brings you out of your daze. Blinking, you shake your head gently to recollect yourself.

"Nothing. You're just really good," you admit, becoming shy once you realize that the compliment slipped from your mouth. Naively, you think that he didn't hear it, but your eyes pan up to see Yugyeom's eyes widen, his cheeks turning pink as his mouth opens in surprise. However, your embarrassment overrides his own bashfulness, a smirk beginning to spread over his face.

"Are you embarrassed?" he questions, tone smug, "Oh my God, you are!" he exclaims when he catches you snapping your head away from him, ears red. He walks over to your position on the floor to sit in front of you, giggling at how cute you are when you tell him to shut up toothlessly.

"Just teach me, asshole," you pout, Yugyeom deciding to have mercy on you when he sees your expression begin to glower. Standing on his two feet, he offers a hand to help you up. Heart warming at the sweet gesture, a smile spreads on your face contrasting your previous expression. Yugyeom switches from teasing you to being nice and sweet so fast that it gives you whiplash.

Taking his outstretched palm, he hoists you off the floor with a powerful tug, surprising you. Your body jolts upward with a yelp, the force causing you to stumble. Unable to maintain stable footing, your hands shoot out to brace yourself against his chest, firm and chiseled beneath the warmth of your palms. The force makes you press the front of your body against his accidentally, Yugyeom stopping your movement by reaching out, a single arm wrapping around your waist protectively.

It takes a minute for you to process what just happened, mind distracted. However, his mind is crystal clear, observing how soft you feel against him, how pretty- no, beautiful you look with your messy hair, imperfections, and all. Once his eyes meet yours, gaze tracing the slope of your nose to your pursed lips, he knows that he's fucked.

He wants to kiss you; to rove his hands over the bare skin that's been teasing him the entire duration of the practice. Right here, in the middle of the studio space for anyone to walk in on. But he remembers what you said yesterday; that you're "just friends, working together". The disappointment brings him back to the present, his grip around your waist loosening as he distances himself from you with an awkward cough.

Instantly, your previous embarrassment transformed into complete and utter mortification at the sound. You scold yourself for the inability to be professional, essentially feeling him up in the middle of practice.

Fortunately for you, Yugyeom quickly moves on to teach you what he's come up with. Your brain catches up immediately, attempting to mirror his movements to the best of your ability. To him, you might seem completely focused, unaffected by the events of earlier. In reality, you're unable to ignore how hot you feel, the ghost of his touch never seems to leave you.

✧✧✧

[pt. 1] ⤎ [relevé series] ⤏ [pt. 3]

all rights reserved © 2021 aura-mp3

[flowered-mp3]

relevé pt. 3 (pirouette) - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers, mild angst

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, alcohol, suggestive sexual content

summary: after attending a multi-genre dance showcase, you become begrudgingly enraptured with yugyeom, the captain of a rival dance company.

author’s note: finally, part 3 is here! y'all know that this fic is my baby and i really enjoy writing it, i was just juggling with the plot points for a while during hiatus. also if u wanna scream about yugyeom's solo album in my inbox you are welcome because that album... my god... if u saw my *kim yugyeom is hot* breakdown in my text posts u know. anyways, enjoy hehe love y'all

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

It’s lift day.

And you love lift day.

Being carried around in the air is fun, but you had to do quite a bit of convincing for Yugyeom to let you have it in the piece. He was very against it in the beginning; you weren’t sure why, so you had to convince him using two things; a promise that you’d bring an instructor to spot, and an incentive that he could never refuse; dinner on you.

You don’t mind either, considering that Yugyeom brings you snacks and a beverage of your choice before practice without you even asking. Today is no exception as you watch Yugyeom walk into the studio with a latte and your favourite spicy chips in hand, thanking him sheepishly.

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, a shy smile creeping on your lips as he gently places them in your outreached palms. Yugyeom’s kindness truly knows no bounds; a notion that you’ve become very familiar with over the past number of months. Before getting too distracted by Yugyeom and how unbelievably sweet he is to you, your instructor clears his throat.

Your head pops up at the sound, apologizing for your late response.

“Jimin, meet Yugyeom. Yugyeom, meet Jimin,” you direct, waving your hands between your project partner and your colleague in an effort to get them to interact.

Yugyeom reaches out first with wide eyes and a bright smile.

You mean, of course, he does, breathing a sigh of relief when Jimin takes his outreached palm for a handshake, glad that there is an inkling of Jimin possibly getting along with Yugyeom.

It isn’t like Jimin is unfriendly or vindictive in any way. It’s just that among your colleagues, you undoubtedly respect him the most. Jimin is an incredible dancer with vast experiences that you could never even imagine having. He’s been your pas de deux partner for many performances, and his style has influenced you in more ways than one, making his advice incredibly valuable to you. It’s because of this that you try to shake the anxiousness away. You care about his opinion and it makes you nervous to have him assist in the progress of your project.

“So Yugyeom, Y/N brought me here to work on some lifts. She thought that it might be more effective if she had a second hand,” Jimin says, watching you nod in confirmation before continuing, “Y/N, you said that you wanted to put in a fish dive?”

You nod, walking over to Jimin to demonstrate one for Yugyeom.

Beginning with a standard developpe, Jimin’s hands are grasping at yours to balance your movements. Once your body switches to the fouetté, then into the pirouette, Jimin’s palms transition to holding your waist, spinning you four times as your head whips around, spotting yourself in the mirror.

Already, Yugyeom is not about the way that Jimin’s hands are all over you. This is exactly why he didn’t want to do this in the first place; Yugyeom isn’t sure how much he can handle if he (or anyone else, for that matter) lays a hand on you. He tries his best not to look angry, pushing his feelings of all-consuming jealousy and yearning to the back of his consciousness. Yugyeom knows that he has no right to experience such emotions, but he still isn’t able to fully hide the way it manifests in his body language. Thankfully for him, you don’t notice anything amiss due to your preoccupation with the lift that you’re demonstrating.

Distracted by your muscles coiling and tensing, your arms float from first position as your retire extends backward to an arabesque, your expression soft in an attempt to conceal the burning that you’re starting to feel in your feet. Pausing briefly to prepare for the lift, Jimin and you both plie simultaneously before he grabs at your waist, throwing you in the air with an effortlessness and grace that only years of being pas de deux partners could grant.

The lift sequence finishes with the signature dip and the extension of your leg, finally able to relax your muscles and breathe properly.

“Ok. Your turn,” you exhale, crooking your neck to the side as you fully disengage your muscles. Looking at Yugyeom, the description of the expression spread across his face could only be described as utterly terrified.

“What if I drop you?” Yugyeom asks meekly, unsure about his abilities.

“I’ll guide you through it. Plus, you have all this extra surface area to work with,” Jimin reassures, causing you to giggle at his joke, essentially dissing himself for his small stature.

Yugyeom doesn’t say anything but you can just tell that he’s still unconvinced, biting the inside of his cheek as his shoulders slouch slightly. Reaching out to grasp at his hand softly, you attempt to silently reassure him with gentle eyes and a squeeze of his palm. This seems to be sufficient for him, Yugyeom’s head nodding hesitantly.

Standing behind you, Yugyeom attempts to mimic Jimin’s positioning from earlier; your hands in his with your back a couple of inches from his chest. Jimin moves to lift Yugyeom’s arms higher up before touching his shoulders, pushing them down in an effort to relax them.

“Keep your arms tense during the developpe,” Jimin instructs, Yugyeom engaging the muscle in his arm to follow his directions. However, he tenses them a little too much for your liking, his shoulders hunching upwards as he overcompensates.

“Wait. Gyeom, not so much. You still have to move your hands to my waist when I transition to the pirouette,” you advise, humming in approval when Yugyeom heeds your advice.

Warning Yugyeom that you’re about to start the pirouette, his palms leave your hands to grab at your waist slowly, trying his best to ensure that you feel safe before jumping.

“Gyeom, you’re not gonna hurt me,” you reassure, grabbing Yugyeom’s hands that are on your waist and pressing them harder against your body, effectively securing your balance in his hands. In order to prepare for the jump, you direct him to plie at the same time before launching you in the air, then advising him to brace your landing in the same manner.

“Ok, ready?” Jimin prepares, ensuring that you both are prepared before counting you two in, hands out in order to spot the risky lift.

It’s not as smooth as you’re used to; Yugyeom’s fingers accidentally pinching your waist upon catching you, causing the landing to be a bit bumpy and rough. Interestingly, it still feels better than other pas de deux partners that you’ve had in the past; perhaps you can accredit it to the fact that you and Yugyeom have grown to have good chemistry together. As if he can sense your discomfort, his eyes meet yours in the mirror as you wince, immediately expressing remorse with an apologetic caress of your hip.

“Sorry,” he apologizes into your ear, an unintentional shiver running down your spine when you feel his breath against your neck.

Suddenly, you become aware of the proximity between you two, your mind completely disregarding the fact that Jimin is still in the studio, eyes darting between you and Yugyeom awkwardly. The only thing that your mind can focus on is Yugyeom’s firm chest is pressed against your back, his arms encircled around your waist as a consequence of the shaky landing. You’re not even facing each other but you manage to stare at his face through the mirror in front of you, making the moment strangely intimate.

It takes a loud cough from Jimin to make you pry away from his touch, taking in a hitched breath to calm your nerves and racing heart. You fail to catch that Yugyeom is no better; hands clammy as his ears become pink, neck flushing bashfully.

✧✧✧

The Asshole:

Worried about the lift

Like I’ll do it

Just like.

Don’t wanna drop you on stage

You frown at his text. It’s not like him to second-guess himself; that’s usually a you thing. He did great for a beginner during practice a couple of hours ago. Yes, it was a bit rough and lacked the usual level of finesse, but Yugyeom is such an all-rounder. He’s talented and you’re confident that he’ll be able to get it in time for showcase.

Me:

Don’t worry

You did great, I promise

Jimin said you did well

For a beginner lol

Don’t worry about it too much, we still have 3 months left

You’ll get it

Plus, you have me 😊

Your cheeks warm up at what you just sent, biting your bottom lip as you place your phone on the table screen down. You’re nearing dangerous territory and you’re well aware; it touches on flirting with him and it’s a side of yourself that you’ve been entertaining far too many times for your liking.

“I would like to submit a piece for the collaboration project.”

Upon hearing this request, you look up from your phone screen sharply, shocked out of your own thoughts. Everyone was pretty apprehensive about the whole collab thing, so you’re caught off guard by the request. Your eyes meet your roommate, Lisa, her eyes sparkling in excitement with her paperwork in hand.

“It’s pretty late in the game, considering that showcase is in three months. What’s with the change of heart?” you question curiously, unsure of the reason for Lisa’s sudden decision.

“There’s actually a guy on the team that’s a childhood friend. BamBam? I don’t know if you’ve met him,” she answers.

Just hearing his name makes you giggle, reminded of his larger-than-life personality, glitzy oversized watch, and obnoxiously tinted sunglasses that he wore indoors.

“I have met him, actually. He and Gyeom are best friends and roommates. I had no idea that he knows you,” you respond, surprised, guessing that Lisa is probably going to work with him on the project. This is nice, to have someone else on your team experiencing the exact same artistic blocks and achievements that you’re experiencing.

“Gyeom?”

“Yugyeom. It’s a nickname. Sorry, it’s a habit.”

Ignoring the shit-eating grin on Lisa’s face, you grasp at the paperwork in her hands, scanning through the writing to ensure that everything is in order for their piece. Looking through it, you’re excited to see that Lisa will be doing hiphop with him; a welcome surprise; she’s always been so good at it, regardless of being a contemporary dancer at her core.

“This looks good, so I’ll submit it to the showcase director later,” you confirm before immediately resuming your work, eyes trained on your illuminated laptop screen in an instant. You expect Lisa to leave; she’s likely just as busy as you with dance at the moment. Instead, she chooses to plop right on the table beside your work, scattering your pens and highlighters in the process.

Blinking in surprise, your hands leave your laptop in a questioning gesture, eyes looking upward to look at Lisa’s sly grin.

Just by looking at her face, you’re already aware that she’s going to ask for your permission to do something.

“You want something. What is it?” you ask suspiciously, wary of the mischievous expression plastered all over her face. Lisa sighs, pouting.

“I have an idea,” she begins, pausing when your eyes narrow, half interested but half suspicious. You love your best friend but she can have some out-of-pocket ideas sometimes, “I was thinking of hosting a party for Elevate and Pulse next weekend. You know, since we have to work together and stuff,” she suggests, wincing in preparation for her idea to get rejected. You pause initially, opening your mouth to push her idea to the side. Simply put, you do not have the time to plan for a mere party, way too preoccupied with your dance captain duties.

“Just before you reject me, Bam and I will plan for it. It won’t even be at our apartment, it’ll be at a B&B. Just. I don’t know… Think about it? We’ve all been working so hard. We deserve a break! Plus, the teams can get to know each other with food and drinks,” Lisa pauses, “You can spend time with Yugyeom…” she continues in a saccharine sing-song voice, tone suggestive.

As much as you hate to admit it, that last sentence is what makes you rethink the event. You’ve never hung out with Yugyeom outside of work, and you can’t help but want to get to know him on a non-work basis.

It might be a bad idea, though.

You know that you’re physically attracted to Yugyeom; unwillingly so, might you add, and combining that with alcohol may end badly for your months-long, budding friendship with him. Meeting with him so often for the past number of months meant that he’s secured a spot in your circle of friends, whether you like it or not.

In your life, you choose to only become involved with people that have a seat at your table of friendship. Anyone else who doesn’t have a seat is someone that you aren’t personally concerned with. There’s only a select, finite number of spots but…

Yugyeom managed to do away with your rule, choosing instead to bring his own seat to the table.

And that weakens your resolve.

So, you agree.

✧✧✧

“Y/N here?”

Yugyeom doesn’t even have to turn his head around to know that the voice belongs to Jinyoung, one of his closest pains in his ass. He hums to confirm your attendance at the party, but doesn’t want to fully admit that he’s already been staring at you since your arrival from across the house, even before Jinyoung asked him.

“That explains the hair situation.”

Yugyeom rolls his eyes, “Shut up.”

“What? I’m happy for you. Clearly, Y/N is doing you a favor via the improvement on your style choices.”

“We’re not even together,” he spits out, annoyed that Jinyoung is choosing to make fun of him when he isn’t feeling particularly chipper. If anything, BamBam told him to dress up for the party. If he had his way, Yugyeom would just rock up in his standard skinny jean and baggy t-shirt combination.

“Right. Otherwise, you’d be over there with your arm around her, warding off the guy that she’s talking to right now,” Jinyoung states, tapping his shoulder before leaving to grab another drink. Yugyeom is annoyed, all Jinyoung did was increase Yugyeom’s overwhelming feeling of yearning. From afar, it looks like you’re making casual conversation with someone on his crew. It’s a first-year, he remembers, and the first-year is clearly interested. He means, who wouldn’t be?

You showed up wearing a short dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, bare legs and curves of your body exposed. Yugyeom is used to the bare skin exposure, but he isn’t used to the fact that your hair is down. It contrasts the slicked-back high ponytails and neat buns that he’s used to, silky tresses draping gracefully over your collarbones, causing his eyes to focus on the dainty gold choker that rests on the base of your neck.

He just…

Wants to pull at it. To tug at the chain until your face tilts upwards to look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He wants to press his lips against yours; to wrap his arm around your waist and cradle your cheek in his hand; to kiss you in such a way that you’re left keening and panting against his lips.

And it’s been absolute torture to have so many practices with you over the past number of months, having to hide the way you make him feel. He has to talk to you and touch you in a non-romantic fashion and it simply crushes him with each progressive meeting. Yugyeom wants so badly to stop visiting you for no reason; to stop bringing you tea lattes and spicy chips when you two have practice; to stop going to you for advice when he has choreo block; to stop the urge to simply want to be in your vicinity. He wants to stop but his resolve gets progressively weaker.

He just…

Wants you. In any way that you’re willing to have him.

And this is what urges him to make direct eye contact with you from across the room, his irritation from before washing away when a smile spreads across your face, eyes sparkling.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Yugyeom sighs without a second thought, the response so automatic that it takes him a second to process what he just said, “Wait, no. Well, yes… But I mean-“

Yugyeom’s stuttering is interrupted by a giggle beside him, tilting his head towards the source of the unknown voice. Looking slightly down, he sees Jimin next to him, eyes crinkled with a cheeky smirk spread across his face.

“I-“ he stops with an exasperated sigh, pressing his hand to his forehead before slumping his shoulders, “How did you know?”

Hearing that just makes Jimin laugh at his expense, clutching at his stomach before wiping a tear from his eye.

“You’re so obvious, Mr. Wears His Heart On His Sleeve. You’re not even a member of Elevate but I’ve seen you more often than actual members of Elevate! I spent one practice with you and I could just tell when your puppy dog eyes got all angsty when I laid a hand on Y/N,” Jimin states in a matter-of-fact manner, gesturing at you as Yugyeom grimaces in embarrassment.

“She cares about you too. More than she lets on,” Jimin continues, Yugyeom covering his face as he becomes increasingly flustered, “You’d lucky to be with her.”

“Why don’t you ask her out then?” Yugyeom scorns, pouting before chugging the beer in his hand, brows furrowed. Jimin hums in acknowledgment of Yugyeom’s question, but chooses to take a sip out of his drink before answering.

“Not really my type,” Jimin chuckles in amusement.

“Oh? And what’s your type?”

“Dick.”

“Ah. I see,” Yugyeom nods, immediately backing off from his previous attitude.

“She’d be lucky to have you too,” he admits, catching Yugyeom off guard.

“What do you mean?” Yugyeom asks, unsure of Jimin’s reasoning. He barely knows him, and yet he’s able to suddenly assess if Yugyeom is worthy of his close friend and colleague.

“Someone’s hitting on her but you’re over here on the sidelines, just watching and not getting angry. You’re making her become less of a tightly wound stress ball, which definitely benefits me. You gotta good heart, Gyeom,” Jimin elaborates, a smile spreading over Yugyeom’s face when he hears his beloved nickname that you use all the time. He is also surprised, Yugyeom wasn’t even aware that Jimin paid attention to his interactions with you, but is grateful that he has Jimin’s approval.

“You’re also hot. Not sure if you’ve noticed,” he quips, Yugyeom choking and sputtering on his drink as a response.

“I’m sorry?”

“You have his tall and handsome thing going on. Cute face. Nice chest. Good body. Fantastic dancer,” Jimin expands, wholly nonchalant. Yugyeom immediately becomes self-conscious at the sudden flurry of compliments, blushing red and fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers.

“Just… Lemme give you some advice, as her friend and colleague. Y/N is stubborn. I’m sure that you already know that. Once she sets her mind to something, she just sticks with it,” Jimin starts, jogging Yugyeom’s memory of you going back and forth on one specific section of their piece for two hours, “She doesn’t like risk. So that also means that she sticks to stupid ass rules that could make her ultimately unhappy.”

Right. Fuckin’ masochist, Yugyeom remembers.

“You gotta snap her out of it to have a chance because frankly, this little ‘dance’ you guys are doing around each other? She’s gonna hold out for longer than you. And I know that for a fact. Plus, I spent a couple of hours with you two and I can’t stand the way you guys keep eye-fucking each other. Like, get a room.”

“So what the hell am I supposed to do? I never know what she’s thinking,” Yugyeom slumps frustratedly, not feeling particularly positive with the ‘advice’ that Jimin is giving.

“Put all your cards on the table. Let her know that you’re worth the risk because you are, Yugyeom.”

Perhaps, Jimin is onto something.

Perhaps, all Yugyeom really needs is some courage.

✧✧✧

The party is… Definitely more extravagant than you thought that it would be.

Lisa told you to ‘dress up’, but you still feel out of place in your strappy heel and silky forest green minidress combination, even when considering the lavish nature of the surrounding décor.

Yugyeom is here as well, making you feel self-conscious when his eyes meet yours from across the room. Just by glancing at him from a distance, he’s looking especially handsome tonight, donning a sleek, all-black ensemble with his standard silver hoop earrings and chain necklace. His hair is actually styled as well, a rarity that you’re not familiar with; his forehead is exposed as the strands of hair are slicked away from his face. Nodding at him, a characteristically bright smile extends across his lips.

“You ok?” a voice beside you asks, initially making you jump in surprise. It’s the guy that you’ve been talking to for the past 10 minutes, but you’re frankly distracted by Yugyeom the entire time. You kind of feel bad because he’s cute and seems to be interested in you, leaning close with a wide smile on his lips as he requests to have your number.

But you stick by your rule; absolutely no romantic relations with colleagues.

Luckily, Yugyeom becomes your saving grace from the awkward and stunted conversation that you’re plagued with, whisking you away from the poor guy that had no chance to begin with.

“Thanks for the save,” you say sheepishly, your eyes unconsciously softening the minute that you see his face.

“Let’s get you a drink,” he says, extending his hand towards you. The chivalrous gesture catches you off guard, heat beginning to bloom on your cheeks.

Shyly taking his outstretched hand, he continues, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my crew.”

✧✧✧

You’re finding out that Yugyeom’s friends… Are interesting. 

First, you meet Jinyoung, Mark, Jackson, Youngjae, and Jaebeom, Yugyeom’s seniors. Both Jaebeom and Jinyoung are serious at first, but quips jokes at select moments that always cause laughter to erupt from the people surrounding him, including yourself. Frankly, Jaebeom and Youngjae’s laughs, you’re finding out, are so distinct that you can hear their signature guffaws echo from across the room. Jackson evidently makes himself out as the social butterfly, immediately greeting you with a charismatic smile and enthusiastic handshake. Mark, however, is the complete opposite. He’s so incredibly quiet that you initially failed to realize that he was even in the same group as them.

But all together…. They’re loud.

Very loud.

So much so that they start a full-on dance battle in the middle of the B&B, unprovoked. With neon lights flashing and trap music blaring through the speakers, all the members of the Pulse Crew collectively bust into dance in the center of the room. This is what sparks all of your dancers to join as well, throwing their hands up in the air. You initially had no wish to join in, perfectly content with observing the chaos from the sidelines like a fly on the wall. But Lisa, the angel that she is, yells at you in the middle of grinding into someone’s lap, screaming over the music for you to join in.

As drunk as you are, you still decline, shaking your head and hands sheepishly.

But Yugyeom forces himself out of the crowd to pull you into the chaotic flurry of bodies, guiding you to become the center of attention.

In an instant, you become apprehensive, the blasting music and the multiple eyes disorienting you. Yugyeom seems to sense this though, because he pulls you in and grasps your jaw gently, tilting your head to look into his eyes.

Maybe it’s the alcohol pumping through your body, but his electrifying gaze and tender touch practically makes you burn, fueling courage from within, the proximity to his body lighting your nerves aflame. Even with the overwhelming stimuli surrounding you two, it all seems to fade away in the background when Yugyeom guides your arms to wrap around his neck, a tipsy grin spreading across your face as his fingers trace the satin of your dress before placing his hands on your hips.

No counts.

No set combos.

No costumes.

No choreography.

Just you and him. Moving to the music in the way that makes you feel good, without the pressure of messing up or pissing off your director or catering to some judge that doesn’t care about you.

Everyone else seems to get the same idea as well, screaming and chanting ‘Cap-tains! Cap-tains! Cap-tains!’ from the vicinity of you both.

This makes you smile; you’re glad that your groups are able to connect in a place like this… You never thought that they would get along so well. Everyone is so different, but they still manage to synergize, generating such happy memories that they’ll never forget them, even if they tried.

Just like you and Yugyeom.

✧✧✧

It’s safe to say that the studios were empty the next day, because everyone (excluding himself), to Yugyeom’s knowledge, got drunk as all hell.

Yugyeom was planning to get plastered along with everyone else at the party, but you were just throwing back so many shots and drinks that he immediately restrained himself, his gut telling him that he was probably going to have to get you home by the end of the night. His gut feeling turned out to be right, because he had to drag you into a taxi with an equally wasted Lisa and BamBam, slurring over your words and slumping against his body. You’ve never told Yugyeom that you slip into your mother tongue when drunk, but he most definitely knows now, whether you liked it or not.

Pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyelids shut from the morning sun, a sleep-deprived headache decides to make a lovely appearance once the events of the taxi come back to him.

He forced Lisa and BamBam into the middle seats before practically carrying you to join him in the back, throwing his jacket over your shoulders because you said that you felt cold, absolutely refusing to wear your own. It’s safe to say that he felt particularly annoyed at that moment; that is until you leaned against him in the back seat of the car, testing his ability to remain a gentleman as the fullness of your chest pressed up against his arm, emphasizing your cleavage and leaving nothing to the imagination. To make matters even worse for him, you started to murmur drunkenly throughout the entire ride back.

“You’re so talented, Gyeomie,” you had started, looking up at his face before resuming, “Not fair,” you whined, pouting at him. He was baffled in the moment; how could you manage to annoy him but then immediately make him like you again without trying?

“Like your face,” you let out as you slapped his cheek clumsily, effectively causing his eyes to widen and his jaw to drop open. You apparently thought that this was inherently hilarious, “Hm. Cute,” you giggled, Yugyeom’s stomach flipping at the sudden compliments. Cute wasn’t something that he was going for, but he let it pass.

Just because it’s you.

“Like your nose,” you continued, attempting to poke the bridge of it. Unfortunately for Yugyeom, your finger completely missed. You nearly stabbed him in the eye, but he grabbed your wrist before you had a chance to gouge his eyeball out in a drunken stupor.

“Like your mole. That one,” you pointed, gesturing at the mole underneath his eye before moving down to his neck, “And this one,” you pointed again, “And this one…” you trailed off, voice soft as you poked at the mole on his chest, hidden by the dress shirt that he wore that night.

“Mhm. Wanna do things…” you slurred in a hushed whisper, the tone of your voice laced with a level of indecent suggestiveness that had him zoning in on your lips, catching his attention the second that it left your mouth. Never had he ever seen you like this; guard down, touchy, and loose-lipped.  

“But I can’tttttt… Don’t wannaaaaa…” you babbled, shocking Yugyeom out of his trace, making him feel incredibly confused. 

He didn’t know what you were going on about, but he didn’t have a chance to ask because he heard Lisa say that you’ve made it to their place. Fortunately for him, he only had to carry you up to your apartment because Lisa handled her alcohol better than you could that night. Once Lisa opened the apartment for him, she flopped onto the couch while he placed you on your bed, laying you onto your side before searching through the medicine cabinet that he passed for some Advil.

Walking into your kitchen, he filled a large glass of water for you before placing it on your side table along with the painkillers, covering your body with your flat sheet and comforter. You might have been completely plastered but he still believed that you were the prettiest, most beautiful drunk person he’d ever seen, your face pressed into your pillow which caused your lips to pout cutely.

The sound of the fridge running shocks Yugyeom out of the memory. Laying in his bed with his hands thrown over his eyes, his brain hurts just thinking about you and your drunk conversations with him the night before. For someone who seemed to be the quiet, responsible, prim and proper type, you were pretty mouthy when you had alcohol pumping through you. You have to be the most frustrating and confusing woman he’s ever met, to say the least.

But for the first time since meeting you, it seems like your true emotions were revealed to him last night. The way that you looked at him while dancing; arms wrapped around his neck and pupils dilated with the widest smile spread across your face; the dopey, dazed grin you had during the taxi ride, give him the slightest bit of hope that you might give him a chance.

It’s what pushes him to send you a message that will leave you flustered when you wake up.

Me:

You and me. Dinner tomorrow.

Gonna cash in your promise.

✧✧✧

[pt. 2] ⤎ [relevé series] ⤏ [pt. 4]

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[flowered-mp3]

can i ask what the titles of the releve parts are? what do they mean lol

of course, u can ask! actually, anyone can ask for clarification on the releve stuff hehe. i use some technical terms so i totally get it!

i decided to name the parts after the way that ballet classes are structured. they always progress in a certain order. it usually starts with slower, more basic techniques and movements, then progresses to more advanced, high-energy steps!

ballet class usually begins with barre (we literally use a barre connected to the wall) and conduct exercises such as plie, tendu, round de jambe, frappe, and grand battement. then, we go to the centre for adage, pirouettes, petit allegro, then grand allegro.

more advanced classes conduct coda after grand allegro. then, every single ballet class ends with reverence, which basically pays respects to the teacher, pianist, and audience if there is one. so yeah, that's how i named the parts!