#sorry mutuals I’ve decided to be insufferable today don’t worry it will be done at midnight

[its-your-mind]

it’s been three whole entire years

[scxrlettwxtches]

nobody compares to you | hwang hyunjin

Genre: fluff, slight angst, friends to enemies to lovers (yeah, crazy right?)

Warnings: none, slight swearing

Word Count: ~7.0k

Description: You loved your dance captain, you swear you did, but why he consistently paired you with Hwang Hyunjin was something you’d never understand, especially since all the two of you ever did was dance, fight, and then do it all over again. 

A/N: yes, i wrote another long ass fic about how much i love hyunjin. don’t kill me. in all seriousness, one of the scenes in this story is probably one of my favorite scenes of all time, paired with a song i’ve been obsessed with recently. hope y’all enjoy! thanks again for 600 followers! <3 love y’all!

“Could you—for the love of God—stop tripping over your feet during the spin? This is the third time you’ve screwed it up.” 

“Well, I’m sorry, I’m too preoccupied trying to convey the romance of the choreo when you’re stomping around like your brother just died. It’s not my fault that I’m getting distracted by your poor acting.” 

“Do you know you’re a pain in the ass?” Hyunjin snapped, still holding onto your waist to keep you from falling after your misstep.

Your vision went red as your anger spiked, “Me? You’re nothing but an insufferable—“ 

“Alright, cut it out,” Minho finally decided it was time to interject, having been so silent for the last half hour that you had genuinely forgotten he was there, “Take ten to cool off, both of you.”

With an aggravated huff, Hyunjin backed away from you as if burned, before slinking out of the dance studio to get some water. The moment the door shut behind him, you sank to the floor, breathing heavily from over-exertion.

“Hyunjin’s right, though,” Minho said firmly, but without any of the bite that Hyunjin had earlier, “You gotta get that spin down. It’s like you don’t trust him to catch you.”

“Well, that’s partly true,” you muttered as you lay on the hardwood floor, a hand over your eyes to shield you from the bright lights of the room, “But yeah, don’t worry. I’ll get it down before the concert.” 

“You better. The concert’s in two weeks, and you two won’t get as much time to rehearse starting Monday since we’ll be focusing on the group set.”

Minho was a great dance captain, you thought appreciatively after he had left the room to grab a snack. He was the reason you had joined, back when he was still a new member in middle school who didn’t want to show up to practice alone. Over time, he had broken out of that bashful shell and came out as one of the greatest dancers the crew has ever had. To say you were proud was a major understatement. 

Still, there were things that you didn’t quite agree with when it came to his decision making, and one of which was his unflappable insistence on putting you and Hyunjin together for pair dances. Without fail, you and Hyunjin have done the last three winter and spring showcases. Why Minho would decide to do this was a mystery worthy of a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode, especially since he had to suffer and sit through most of your rehearsals with Hyunjin, filled with petty screaming and arguing. Sometimes you wonder if Minho just enjoyed the pain of watching the two of you have absolutely zero chemistry on and off stage.

“Are you done daydreaming?” Hyunjin’s familiar tone of annoyance grated at your ears, “It’s almost eight, and I have to study for the math test tonight.”

“What’s the point? You’ll end up peeking at Seungmin’s paper anyway,” you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself off the floor.

If Hyunjin heard your quiet jab, he didn’t escalate the already tense conversation. Instead he skipped to the difficult section of the choreo on his phone, and music once again filled your ears. 

Let’s get this over with, you thought tiredly, and your hands found their place around Hyunjin’s neck as he pulled your waist towards him. 

.

“How are you and Hyunjin doing? Minho hasn’t let anyone sit in on your practices, so everyone’s dying to know,” Seulgi said during a particular lunch break during the week, passing you a delicious looking strawberry.

You shrugged, “It’s the same as usual, I guess. We dance, we argue, Minho breaks the fight, we do it all over again.”

“Sounds like sexual tension to me.”

“Seulgi, I swear to God—” you growled, giving your friend a light shove as she rolled over on the grass with laughter. 

“I’m serious! The whole crew’s been betting on you guys since freshman year.”

“Gee, I’m so glad our angst exists for the entertainment of the community,” you said sarcastically. 

“Nothing better than a good ‘friends to enemies to lovers slow burn’.”

“I’m going to terminate your Wattpad account.”

Your friend only grinned, leaving you to your thoughts. It wasn’t a question that Hyunjin’s relationship with you was always a topic of discussion within your team. After all, you were the only two who were ever given pair dances, which had to do with Minho’s obsession with the “rare chemistry” that you two displayed. You were pretty sure the chemistry was just mutual disdain, but who were you to disobey your trustworthy dance captain?

“You guys used to get along alright, though,” Seulgi mused, “What happened?”

“High school happened,” you answered dully, “He grew snappier and so did I. We just didn’t have much in common as we got older.” 

Seulgi gave a thoughtful frown, “That can’t be the only reason.” 

You shrugged, falling back onto the grass as you stretched yourself out, “Well, if you can decipher what else happened, do let me know, ‘cause I have no idea.”

It made you a little sad, if you had to be honest with yourself. You didn’t like being so defensive around Hyunjin, but everything he said grated on your nerves and your self esteem. You hated the way he criticized everything that you despised about your dancing. You hated the way he picked apart your weaknesses. So, you did the thing that most naturally came to you; you fought back. 

As the bell rang, you pushed yourself off the ground, leaving Seulgi behind to dawdle around in her free period, “What time’s rehearsal again?” 

The girl only rolled her eyes, “Your forgetful ass is gonna get you killed one day. It’s at five.”

“Thanks,” your brain suddenly woke up as you remembered something else that was coming up today, “Oh, shit. The early decisions for NYU come out today.”

Seulgi scoffed, waving her hand dismissively, “Like you actually need to be worried. You’re one of the best dancers in the state!” 

“Oh, shut up,” you said, a light tinge of pink on your cheeks, although the anxiousness in your chest only grew worse. NYU was only your early decision, but it was your top choice and one of the best dance programs in the nation. Plus, you were vying for a chance for the dual program, where you could get both an academic degree and follow your passion for dance. 

“Stop moping,” Seulgi’s voice broke your thoughts as she gazed at you critically, “There’s no use worrying about it now, is there? You’ve done all you could.”

Like almost everything that came out of her mouth, it had a very valid point. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your nerves, “You’re right. Thanks, Seulgi.”

Your friend rolled her eyes, a small smiling peeking out at the corner of her lips, “Just go to class.”

.

It was two hours into rehearsal and you felt like complete shit. You subtly checked your phone once every five minutes, constantly reloading your emails like a madman, waiting for the words that would either make or break your future. Colleges are such dicks, you thought bitterly. It’s like they want the anxiety of waiting to kill off everyone who couldn’t handle the pressure. 

You’ve caught Minho giving you a hard stare multiple times in between songs, but you were too worried to care. He’d be on your case tomorrow, you were sure. The rehearsal felt long and exhausting, the joy that you normally had as you danced was distinctly missing. 

Nothing, you cursed under your breath as you slipped your phone back into the pocket of your sweats for the billionth time. The anxiety was already affecting you physically, and you found yourself chugging water like a parched woman. Even a single song was able to wind you, although you pulled through each choreography well enough that Minho didn’t openly call you out. 

After what felt like far too long, your captain ended rehearsals and everyone rushed to pack up and get a decent night’s sleep. That is, except for you and Hyunjin, who had to stay behind and work on your pair dance. Not even Minho was staying behind to oversee your rehearsal this time, and you couldn’t blame him. He had his hands full creating and teaching all of you at least 30 minutes of intense choreography.

“Let’s start in five,” Hyunjin said, his voice hoarse from the exhaustion of your earlier practice, “And please stop checking your phone.” 

You didn’t answer him, your mind already glued to your phone as you once again checked your inbox. In the background, you could hear Hyunjin scoff in disbelief before he left the room to get a sip of water. Your fingers slid down the screen over and over, getting the same lack of unread emails until you saw the familiar blue dot.

Your Admission Results from NYU 

Your heart began pounding, your palms growing sweaty as you shakily opened the email. Every millisecond it took to load felt like a year, and you were about to pass out by the time words appeared on your screen.

Thank you for your interest in the NYU School of Dance! We have reviewed your application and were impressed by the level of talent and skill you displayed. Unfortunately, due to the vast number of applicants this year, you have not been accepted into—

Your mind went blank. The words “have not been accepted” flashed across your eyes repeatedly like a cruel joke. As you felt all the strength and all the adrenaline in your body just drain out of you, your phone slipped out of your hand and clattered to the floor. Sinking to the floor, you could barely process the pain as your body collided with the hard wood. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t feel, you couldn’t even breathe as your lungs clawed for air and—

A strong pair of arms wrapped around your body, holding you as your trembled. Instinctively, you grasped at the person’s sleeves, gripping them until your knuckles went white. 

“Y/N, you’re okay,” a familiar voice spoke, rather muffled since your face was buried in their chest, “I don’t know what’s happened, but you’ll be okay.” 

At that moment, it was as if something inside you snapped, and whatever was holding your tears back vanished. You sobbed into their shirt, your voice cracking as you let out all the pressure and the stress bottled up inside. The person you were holding onto tightened their embrace in return, stroking your back comfortingly and soothing your pain as best they could. 

They smell nice, you thought vaguely, still feeling the aftershocks of your breakdown. It was kind of familiar too, the way their hands felt around you like they were meant to be there. Funny, because it almost feels like—

“Let’s go out,” Hyunjin muttered as you lifted your head to see who was comforting you, “We can skip practice today.”

“But, Minho’s gonna—“

“Minho would understand,” he said firmly, helping you get back on your feet. His arm was still positioned around your back, as if making sure he’d catch you if you collapsed. Gently sitting you down on a nearby chair, he grabbed your stuff from the side of the studio, placing it neatly into your gym bag, and picked up your phone as well. 

Swinging your bag over his shoulder along with his own, Hyunjin walked towards you silently, stretching out his hand. You stared incredulously at it, wondering if this was all just a strange dream because there was no way Hwang Hyunjin was offering you his hand.

Hyunjin looked embarrassed, his voice tinged with something that sounded like bitterness as he said, “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

You snapped out of your stupor, and without much consideration, slipped your hand into his. It was easier than you had imagined, although it felt different from the hundreds of times you’ve held his hand during dances. This one felt more alive, more electric somehow.

From what you could tell, Hyunjin seemed rather pleased, especially from the way his hand closed around yours. Clearing his throat, he pulled you up and glanced at the door, “Let’s get out of here.”

Nodding dumbly, you followed Hyunjin out of the dance studio, but not before turning off the lights and locking up. It was dark when you made it outside, the streetlights and the dim moon being the only sources of light.

“Where are we going?” You finally managed to ask.

Hyunjin continued to walk down the street, with you following closely after, hands still intertwined, “We’re gonna get something to eat.” 

Frowning thoughtfully, you said, “You know there aren’t any good food places around the studio.” 

“I know,” If the lights weren’t so dim, you could’ve swore you saw a flicker of mischievousness in your dance partner’s eyes, “That’s why we’re going somewhere else.”

As he slowed to a stop, Hyunjin turned to glance at you as he asked, “Ever ridden on a motorcycle before?”

Well, damn. It was only then that you remembered Hyunjin’s ride, a sleek black motorcycle and the envy of all his friends at school. Apparently a deal that he’d gotten at a junkyard, you could remember when the boy had spent all his free time polishing it and getting all the grime of his newfound baby. There wasn’t a day of practice that he didn’t talk about it, and you wondered how you could’ve forgotten it at all.

The boy raised an eyebrow at your lack of a response, chuckling softly, “I’ll take that as a no,” Grabbing the helmet that was strapped to one of the handles, he turned to give it to you.

“There’s only one,” you protested, “Shouldn’t you be wearing it instead?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “Stop worrying about me. It’s weird,” he said, taking matters into his own hands and putting the helmet on you gingerly, “I’m not going to have you die on me if you fall off.”

He bent down slightly to your height, eyes focused to make sure he didn’t hurt you when he locked the strap under your chin. You could see every beautiful feature of his face, his pretty eyes and his pretty lips and his—

Calm the fuck down, you mentally slapped yourself. You felt something akin to disappointment when he backed away from you, swinging your gym bags off of his shoulder.

“Could you carry these during the ride? It would be uncomfortable for you to hold on if I carried them.”

You agreed, not thinking much of the request as Hyunjin swung his legs gracefully over the motorcycle, situation himself nicely. Starting up the engines, he turned to look at you with eyes more curious than piercing.

“Are you coming with me?”

As you sat behind him, your arms around his waist as the wind blew the hair out of your face, giving you a sense of liberation that you’ve never felt before, the answer that you’d never admit sat on the tip of your tongue.

Of course.

.

Sipping a vanilla milkshake across from a person that strongly disliked you was—for lack of a better term—awkward. Neither one of you spoke, Hyunjin quietly indulging in his ice cream sundae while you tried to focus on your drink and not the boy in front of you.

The cafe wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either, a suitable number of customers for a weekday at 8 pm. There was a peacefulness to the room’s ambience that you had always loved, and you wondered if Hyunjin came here because he knew this was your favorite restaurant.

“So,” Hyunjin’s voice interrupted your daydreaming, his head leaning against his arm nonchalantly, “are you going to keep staring at me like you want to tell me something, or are you actually going to tell me something?” 

Your face flushed, and you realized that oh my god you were staring at Hyunjin. You immediately looked away, staring at the table like you could drill a hole in it with your eyes. You gathered up your strength and decided to fess up about you had just went through today.

“I didn’t get accepted into NYU.”

“What?” You weren���t sure whether Hyunjin’s genuinely surprised response hurt or made you feel slightly better, “B-but your application was basically flawless!”

You laughed mirthlessly, “Unfortunately, the administration didn’t think that was true, or I would’ve been crying from happiness rather than suffering a mental breakdown.”

“That’s your early, right?” Hyunjin frowned, “You still have many options to pick from.”

“Yeah, I know. But I wanted to do a double major at a strong school,” you lay your head onto the restaurant table, “And NYU was by far the strongest.”

“They’re idiots,” your partner said with an unusual savageness, “They don’t know what they missed out on. You’re the smartest person in school, and you’re one of the core dances in our studio.”

Utterly touched by the outpouring of support from Hyunjin that you haven’t heard in a long while, you managed a genuine, albeit small, smile, “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

Hyunjin blinked, as if only realizing what had just slipped out of his mouth. With a light pink dusting his cheeks, he leaned back into his seat and looked away, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel better,” he grumbled, “It’s just fact.”

You knew that. Hyunjin was never one to shy away from the hard truth, displayed through his blunt criticisms and sharp comments. But that also meant that every praise came straight from his heart, and Hyunjin had just given you the biggest compliment you’ve heard in a long while. 

After an awkward silence, the boy cleared his throat, obviously trying to move on from his embarrassing outburst. Leaning against the back of his chair he asked, “So what do you plan to do now? Apply to other dance programs?”

“Yeah, the one in Florida, there’s a couple abroad that I might try as well,” you answered, thinking of the blank applications that were currently sitting on your desk, untouched. You were originally betting on being accepted into your early decision school so you could just avoid any extraneous application writing, but it seemed that fate wasn’t quite on your side this time. 

“Ever thought about Juilliard?”

You froze for a split second before laughing, “Of course I’ve thought about it, but it’s a little out of my league.”

“Besides,” you continued, sipping at your milkshake again, “isn’t Juilliard your top choice?”

Hyunjin looked surprised, as if he’d never expect you to pay attention to his life, “Well, yeah,” he confirmed, “I’m waiting for the pre-screening results.”

“You’ll definitely get in,” you assured him, “Didn’t the scouts at Juilliard pay a lot of attention to you during some of the boot camps? I’m sure you could just show up to the audition and they’d let you in.”

The boy across from you didn’t know what to say, but from the red on his ears and his cheeks, you could tell he was pleased. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Hyunjin have done this, sit at a diner and share a civilized conversation.

“Yeah, I really hope you’re right about that,” he said tiredly, and you knew the stress was getting to him, “There’s still time to apply, though. You should just do it.”

“You’re asking me to go to the same school as you?” Laughing, you continued, “I thought you would be dying to get away after being stuck with me for four years.”

The conversation grew quiet, and when Hyunjin’s lack of response began to grow uncomfortable, you looked to find him struggling to say something. His eyes were looking everywhere but you, and his hands couldn’t stay still on the table.

“I wouldn’t—“ he started, his doe eyes wide as he forced himself to look at you, “I don’t want to ‘get away from you.”

Blinking dumbly, your brain suffered an immediate malfunction as you attempted to process what Hyunjin had just said, “But you hate me.”

The boy had the audacity to look slightly offended, answering defensively, “I don’t hate you!”

“You criticize me any chance you get, you sneer whenever I make mistakes, you call me out during practices for no reason than to distract me—I don’t know, Hyunjin. Doesn’t that sound like hate to you?”

Your voice had risen above the accepted volume level for restaurant etiquette, but you couldn’t be bothered to see who around you was eyeing your table and who wasn’t. Glaring at Hyunjin intensely, you leaned back in your seat, waiting for your partner to make a move. 

To his credit, Hyunjin looked incredibly guilty, as if thinking back to every nasty comment he’d made and regretting it, “I’m sorry,” he finally said, averting his eyes from your pointed gaze, “I never hated you. I guess I was always on your case just because—”

With a dramatic gasp, Hyunjin‘s hands flew to his mouth as if to physically trying to stop his own words. Your curiosity piqued, and you glared at him pointedly, waiting for him to complete his sentence. 

“I always criticized you because I wanted you to notice me,” Hyunjin said, rather shamefully. 

“You criticized me because you wanted my attention?” you repeated his words, tasting the way they felt in your mouth and coming to the conclusion that they made absolutely no sense when put together. 

“No! Well—yes, but—“ Hyunjin stumbled over his words before taking a deep breath in an attempt to collect his own thoughts. 

“Back when we were still...friends,” the boy hesitated on the last word, a tentative way to gauge his boundaries. When you didn’t question the term, he continued, “I always liked to be your dance partner because it felt like you genuinely liked my dancing. Then, I realized that you tended to criticize me less than other people, and I just came to assume that you didn’t think I was at a level for you to bother offering criticism to.”

You bit your lip, perturbed, “You know that’s not true, right, Hyunjin? I never thought that I was better than you in any sense.” 

Hyunjin nodded, “I know, but I grew paranoid, and slowly came to the realization that you always had something to critique about my dancing if I got on your nerves.” 

Frowning thoughtfully, you remembered all the times Hyunjin had ever pricked at your poor dance habits and all the times you had snapped back with some smartass response. It was true that Hyunjin always corrected himself after you said something, so maybe what he was saying did make sense. 

“Okay, so I get why you were doing it before, but we’re seniors now, and you’ve won big competitions for your solo dancing, too. You can’t possibly feel inferior to me still, right?” you asked, warily eying his reaction.

“No, not anymore,” Hyunjin agreed, before chuckling softly, “Sometimes, I just tease you because I feel like that’s the only way you’d ever consider me as more than a stranger.”

Your heart lurched, and you wondered how long Hyunjin had believed that you genuinely didn’t want to be around him, just like you had believed until a couple minutes ago. Hesitantly, you reached for his hand that rested on the table. Hyunjin looked startled, but he didn’t pull away as you closed your smaller hands around his.

“I missed being your friend, Hyunjin,” you said honestly, “And I’m sorry for all the stupid shit I’ve said.”

At your words, Hyunjin put a hand over yours urgently, holding it tightly as he spoke, “I’m more at fault here,” he replied firmly, “I’m sorry I never took your feelings into account.”

The silence between the two of you evolved into something much more comfortable, and neither of you made any moves to retract your hands. Instead, you merely sat there, content with the idea that neither of you hated each other as much as you had originally assumed. 

Hyunjin suddenly burst into tiny giggles, “What do you think Minho’s gonna say when he finds that we’re cool again?”

“Either get incredibly angry or burst into tears,” you guessed dryly.  

“I think the latter.”

“You wanna bet on it?” you smiled cheekily.

A smirk emerged on Hyunjin’s face, “Five dollars?”

“That’s lame,” you laughed, a mischievous thought popping up in your head, “How about the loser has to treat the winner to a late night meal back in this diner?”

For a moment, you feared that he wouldn’t be as interested in the idea as you were, but your partner’s eyes brightened as he spoke, “I’m in. This could be like our place!”

“Our place,” you repeated, and you found that you didn’t mind the term as much as you thought you would. It felt intimate, and as you glanced at Hyunjin’s relaxed smile, you found that you didn’t mind it at all.

“I like it.” 

.

“Y/N, hurry up and go change!” Minho barked the moment you were offstage, still panting from the group performance, “You and Hyunjin are up in five.” 

You nodded in acknowledgement before bounding back to the dressing room, taking off your bomber jacket and throwing it onto an empty chair. Your dress hung on a rack nearby, and you grabbed it quickly, heading to the bathroom to change. 

“Y/N, are you here?” Seulgi’s voice sounded as she walked into the dressing room, “I’ll help you zip up.” 

“Have I ever told you that I love you very much?” you asked seriously, opening the door to let your best friend into the stall.

Seulgi smirked, “I love you, too, but I won’t have you cheating on Hyunjin like that.”

“We’re not dating,” you repeated for the tenth time in two hours.

She locked the top clasp in place and pulled the zipper up all the way as she whispered in your ear, “Maybe after this dance, things will change.”

Before you could answer, Minho flung open the door, yelling at you to get backstage. Pulling off your boots from the previous set, you ran barefooted down the hall and into the dark backstage area, smoothing out your dress.

Hyunjin was already there, his hair still sweaty and his heavy stage makeup looking a little smudged. The dark hints of eye makeup and the natural pink tint on his lips made him look more alluring than ever. He was absentmindedly fanning himself with his loose white shirt, and his eyes brightened when he saw you walking over.

“You look beautiful,” was the first thing he said, smiling gently.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you replied, basking in the comfortable air between the two of you as Hyunjin blushed.

The lights darkened onstage, and the audience clapped and whooped. Your heart did a nervous flip; you could never break away from stage anxiety. Closing your eyes, you held your breath and tried to calm the erratic thumping of your heart. 

A hand looped around your waist, and you glanced up at Hyunjin who was eyeing you with excitement. 

“Don’t worry,” he said confidently, “You have me, after all!”

The sheer cheesiness of his statement caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “I suppose I do,” you grinned, and the anxiety lightened considerably.

“Let’s do this.”

Under the cover of darkness, the two of you took your places on the stage, you at the left corner, Hyunjin on the right. Taking a deep breath, you felt your body relax as the spotlights turned on and the music began to play. 

Thought I saw you at a bar last night.

Your duet with Hyunjin began, and your body moved on autopilot, conditioned by hours of practice and molded by the blood, sweat, and tears you put into your craft. 

Hid in the bathroom, I just couldn’t stay high.

You curled in on yourself, following the lyrics with the choreography as you played the role of a broken-hearted girl, hopelessly in love with someone who had left her. 

Cause I took so much time to reset my life, but in just one look, I’m back.

Hyunjin’s hand covered your eyes, and spun you around to face him. You could feel him close to you even though you couldn’t quite see him. When he pulled his hand from your face—for a moment—you felt your breath being taken away. The expression of Hyunjin’s face, the look of desire in his eyes, it was totally different from anything you had ever felt from him in rehearsal, and you cursed yourself for ever calling him out on his “unromantic-ness.” This boy clearly knew how to get people to fall at his feet without even saying a word.

Forgot that I could have anyone I like, but now all I remember is what we had. 

Two feet on the planted on the ground, you pushed yourself off the ground with ease, barely relying on Hyunjin’s hand around your arm as support. You landed in his arms, your hands against his chest. It was closer than you’ve ever been during practice, and you wondered if Hyunjin was merely falling prey to the heat of the moment, or if he was really conscious about what he was doing.

Nobody, nobody, nobody compares to you.

Dipping you easily, your back arched as he spun you gracefully, your arms outstretched in a beautiful line. With a start, you realized that Hyunjin had mouthed the lyrics to you with a grin on his face, his head facing away from the audience so only you could see. 

Somebody, somebody please help me get over you.

Lifting you back on your feet, Hyunjin reached for you as you turned away from him, covering your face with your hands as you walked out of his grasp. 

‘Cause it feels like I’ve been wasting my time, in all the wrong places, with all the wrong faces. 

Hyunjin crashed into you with more force and fervor than ever, hugging you from being, clutching you so tightly it felt like he never wanted to let you go. You melted into his embrace, grabbing his hands and executing the intricate hand choreography that ended with your hands on his neck and his on your face. Foreheads touching, the two of you shared secret smiles as you split apart from each other.

Nobody compares to you.

You danced in sync with Hyunjin, something that was practically a habit to you at this point. Minho had always said that your styles complemented each other perfectly, the equal and opposite of each other. Hyunjin was sharp and you were fluid, both powerful in their own right and yet blending in the most perfect way. You didn’t believe it until very recently, but you finally understood why your captain was always so determined to put you two together.

You’re once in a lifetime, better than New Year’s at midnight.

A classic overthinker, you rarely ever had a performance where you didn’t think about the audience, didn’t think about the possibility of messing up, didn’t think about how you could’ve done better. But as the light danced across Hyunjin’s face, you could only think about him. 

Wanna grab on and hold tight, and I won’t let go.

Hyunjin spun you into his arms once again, your dress billowing around you in graceful wafts. He looked entranced, staring at you with such an intensity that you almost forgot that you were performing.

I hope you can hear this, ‘cause it’s your face that I miss.

Reaching up, you brushed his cheek with your fingers delicately, a detail that Minho had been telling you to incorporate for weeks but you couldn’t without bursting into laughter. This time around, it felt just right. If Hyunjin was surprised, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked almost pleased.

It’s your lips I wanna kiss.

You were so caught up in the moment, that you almost, almost missed your dance partner taking a very surreptitious glance at your lips. It wasn’t like you blamed him, because you were certainly looking at his lips, too. 

Nobody compares to you.

As the song drew to a final climax, Hyunjin and you performed that final segment of the choreography, an intricate sequence with your hands intertwined the entire time. When it finished, you and Hyunjin faced each other so closely that all you had to do was look up and your lips would’ve touched his.

The theater was silent for the longest two seconds of your life, and then the audience that you had long forgotten about burst into a roar of cheers and applause. Some people stood up and whooped, others whistled, but everyone had been completely enamored by the performance. 

Hyunjin and you bowed expertly, panting heavily now that the adrenaline was fading. The moment the two of you made it backstage, you were pushed back out by a grinning Minho, who yelled at the two of you to take a second bow. 

Smiling so hard, the corners of your mouth hurt, you bowed once more before turning to face your dance partner. He looked just as elated as you, and when he caught your glance, he faced you with the happiest, most beautiful expression on his face. Under the cover of the thunderous applause, you could just barely make out the words that then fell out of his mouth.

“I love you.”

The cheering drowned out, and suddenly the audience in front of you didn’t matter one bit. You must’ve looked utterly stricken, any sort of previous joy having left your face, because you saw a flash of horror pass Hyunjin’s eyes, and he turned back to the audience without waiting for you to respond. 

With one final bow, your smiles considerably more strained than before, Hyunjin walked off stage quickly, not even one glance back to make sure you were following him. You ran after him, barely able to discern the look on his face as the stagelights went out to set up for the next segment. 

“Wait, Hyunjin--” you grabbed his arm abruptly, trying to get his attention. Hyunjin flinched hard, looking more ashamed than ever. As you opened your mouth to talk, Seulgi burst into the backstage area.

“Y/N!” she squealed, hurling at you like a cannonball, “That was absolutely amazing, but we gotta get ready for the last number! You know that makeup is a bitch to put on.”

As the next unit performers went on stage, you realized that you only had less than five minutes to change and nail that glittery blue eye makeup. You nailed Hyunjin with the best “we will talk about this later” look, and bolted to the girl’s dressing room after Seulgi.

.

The rest of the performance passed without any major disasters, and your mind only thought about the three words that Hyunjin had uttered to you. Hyunjin loved you? Was that even possible? 

And--if by some miracle--he wasn’t lying, did you love him?

You’ve definitely had a crush on him, that was undeniable. Especially when the two of you first met, you thought about nothing but Hyunjin for a solid three months. How kind he was, how sweet, how handsome. 

As the crowd cheered and applauded, almost everyone on their feet, you glanced at Hyunjin who stood just right of the center position. Was he thinking about it, too? He didn’t look like he was. The stage lights made him look like nothing short of a god, and his eyes held that glint that only emerged when he danced, a look of triumph and utter elation. 

For a shameful moment, you hated Hyunjin for what he said. Did he know what sort of turmoil he was currently putting you through? Did he know how much his words affected you, while he cluelessly basked in his spotlight?  

The concert ended, congratulations were thrown around, and everyone was happy. Even in your conflicted state, you could find yourself smiling unconsciously, taking selfies with Seulgi and Lisa, giving Minho a tight hug. This was where you grew up, after all, and you were going to miss it so much when you head off to college.

As the crew all left the venue, with discussions of going to karaoke clubs in the air, you finally caught sight of Hyunjin walking alone, and decided that it was time to figure out what the fuck was going on. Sneaking up beside him, you reached up and yanked out one of his earbuds.

Startled, Hyunjin’s face of surprise morphed into one of trepidation as you asked pointedly, “Can we talk?”

His expression screamed “no,” but he didn’t answer your question. Looking away, he muttered, “What’s there to talk about?”

Oh, no. There was no way you were going to let him pretend that nothing happened, “Really? You’re just going to act like you didn’t say that you loved me after we finished our dance?”

“Could we not bring this up right now?” Hyunjin snapped, speaking louder now that the crowd had left.

You couldn’t help but flinch as you tried to keep your voice steady, “Why not? Were you just saying that to see my reaction or something?”

“What? No, I--shit,” Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the concert, “I’m sorry, okay?”

Something akin to tears pricked at the corner of your eyes because of course Hyunjin didn’t mean it. Of course it was him leading you on.

“Don’t apologize,” you spoke coldly, trying to distance yourself from the situation, “We just finished a great performance with amazing chemistry, so it’s only natural that you would say something in the heat of the moment--”

“It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing, okay?” Hyunjin interrupted you, his expression resigned, “It’s something I’ve wanted to say for years, and I knew that if I didn’t tell you right then I would never have the confidence to do it again.”

You stared at him, mind utterly blank as your heart raced, “You--you like me?”

He looked down at the ground, the glow of the streetlights illuminating a dark blush on his cheeks, “Don’t say it like you didn’t know.”

“Well, I didn’t know,” you retorted, your cheeks also unusually hot.

Hyunjin blinked, “But, literally everyone knew.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s everyone?”

“Minho, Seulgi, Lisa, ask literally anyone on the dance team,” Hyunjin said in disbelief, “Why do you think everyone was constantly teasing us?”

You could barely put words together as you spluttered, “I thought they were just being annoying!”

Hyunjin let out a giggle, “They were being annoying, but that’s only because they knew I had a biggest crush on you for the longest time,” he eyed you strangely, “Didn’t you at least have some idea when I literally told you that I only bugged you to get your attention?”

The answer was no. The very idea of Hyunjin liking you had never crossed your mind, not even once, so you could only look to the ground, blushing terribly as you tried to salvage the situation.

“Hyunjin, I--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Looking up, you glanced at Hyunjin’s expression, a gentle smile tinged with sadness as he continued, “Please don’t feel obligated to give me an answer or whatever just because you feel bad for me. I’m relieved that I managed to tell you, but I’m perfectly content with the way things are right now.” 

As he turned around to walk to his motorcycle, you could only star at his back forelornly. He was lying, you realized, because Hyunjin’s real smiles would crinkle his eyes in the most adorable way. But now, they didn’t quite reach his eyes as he turned to glance at you, trying to look more upbeat, “You don’t have a ride, right? I could take you home--”

“Don’t you want to hear about my feelings for you?” you blurted out, covering your mouth in surprise. Internally beating yourself up, you were barely able to look at Hyunjin’s now dumbfounded expression as he turned to face you completely, walking back to you slowly.

“You know,” he started hesitantly, “if this is just a cruel way for you to friendzone me after getting my hopes up, I’m actually going to be really sad.”

“I’m not going to friendzone you, Hwang Hyunjin,” you snapped, your cheeks going from warm to hot in less than a second.

His eyes widened, and he took a cautious step into your personal space, reaching for your hand as he asked doubtfully, “You’re not?”

“I like you, too,” you muttered, using your free hand to cover your face.

You could practically hear the smile in Hyunjin’s voice as he leaned closer, “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Gently, he pulled your hand away from your face, now taking both of them and pulling you closer. Foreheads almost touching, you gathered all the courage in you as you said it again.

“I like you, Hyunjin.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours slid around his neck, “Are you sure?” he asked cheekily, but you could hear the doubt in his tone, “You can’t take this back. I won’t let you.”

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you looked him straight in the eye as you said with a smile, “Nobody compares to you, Hyunjin.”

“Oh my god,” he giggled, but the pink of his cheeks betrayed him, “you’re so goddamn cheesy.”

“You still love me?” 

Hyunjin smiled without an ounce of doubt on his face, “I’ll always love you.”

When your lips met, the most perfect first kiss under the glow of the stars and the streetlights, you were absolutely certain that there would be nobody else you’d rather love than your dance partner, Hwang Hyunjin. 

[reyridinghood]

How about 2, Royal AU, & 53, Mutual pining, for Reylo? :)

The Royal Treatment, Part II

No warnings apply! Ao3 Link

Rey adjusted her hat to shield her from the bright Alderaanian sun that was beating down on the bright green fields, the picturesque mountains framing the bright green grass of the polo field as the cluster of horses sped past the tents. Prince Ben - as she now knew him - was deep in concentration as he whacked the ball away from Prince Armitage of Arkanis and to Lord Dameron for a goal that tied up the two teams. Both princes were brilliant strategists and it was a thrilling battle of wits to watch the leaders square off in a game that had been neck and neck the entire time. The match was nearing its end now, and most people’s eyes were glued to the action. Rey’s eyes, however, wouldn’t leave Prince Ben.

He was a fine specimen of a man, finer than she had ever known. Wisps of raven hair peeked out from under his helmet, and the blue and gold colors of the Alderaan Royal House complimented him unbelievably well. She adored watching him play, though she herself had always been more of a show jumper. In addition to the handsome scowl it brought to his face, the way he twisted and turned and commanded his horse showed off every taught muscle in his body - but especially those of his thighs, their thickness and strength only accentuated by the high boots and tight white breeches.

Oh no. She thought to herself. Not staring at him. Not again.

This was a trap she fell into often since commencing a friendship with the Prince of Alderaan. After narrowly avoiding a media circus being brought to her small town of Niima, Ben had wrote to her to thank her for the book and allow him to make it up to her. He had more than done so, inviting her to stay as a guest of the royal family and attend teas, galas, and various other social events. She’d stare at him no matter what he was doing, no matter what he was wearing, no matter who he was with. He was just so handsome, and kind, and generous with people, despite the enormous amount of pressure he was under and the emotional toll it could take on him. Rey would console him through his personal ups and downs, and that made them grow close. Closer than Rey cared to admit.

Ben was her friend. She couldn’t take advantage of him like that. Even if a small kingdom on the French and German border that he was destined to be in charge of wasn’t part of the equation.

She pulled her eyes to Lord Dameron, working hard at trying to score, and Sir Finn, who was an excellent defensive. Yet her eyes kept drifting towards the prince, looking tall and regal and staring right at her as their eyes met. He flashed a smile at her, with a slight nod of the head, and she returned it with a feverish blush that she prayed he couldn’t see from that distance.

It was at that moment that Prince Armitage swooped in and stole the ball away from Ben, whacking it towards Lord Mitaka, who fumbled a bit. The two princes were now engaged in a battle to see who could claim the ball first as the clock ran out, but Ben’s horse wasn’t quite fast enough, allowing his rival to once again pass the ball to Mitaka. Arkanis had scored the winning goal, and Rey and Ben’s moment had just cost Alderaan the match.

She wanted to run and hide knowing her staring had distracted him, that the other nobles would consider her the bane of their existence, that they would shun her from court and convince the prince that she wasn’t worthy of being friends with. But no one seemed to notice as the press and courtiers flooded the field in a jolly manner to have their time of notoriety with His Royal Highness. He seemed to be scanning the crowd, using his height to his advantage as he ignored the groups of people, but what he was searching for, Rey couldn’t tell.

She elected to stay behind under the shadows of the tents in solitude while the disappointment of the loss passed. Her plan would have worked had it not been for one very eager friend of hers seeking her out.

“You should tell him.” Miss Rose Tico, her right-hand woman back on the Tuanal Manor Estate said, with her arms impatiently crossed.

Rey’s expression was blank, but the shakiness of her breath betrayed her true emotion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on. ” Rose rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Everyone has seen the way he looks at you. I’m surprised there isn’t more gossip about you two in the papers. I know Lord Dameron has a betting pool on when you two will get engaged.”

Rey scoffed. “His Royal Highness isn’t busy wooing the Hapan Chumeda or the Princess of Naboo or the Grand Duchess of Mandalore?”

“Are you daft, Rey?” Rose said, utterly gobsmacked. “Everyone knows those meetings were absolute disasters because the eligible bachelorettes knew about his affection for you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Your moment ten minutes ago wasn’t seeing it enough for you?”

Rey could feel the flush returning again and veered the subject away from that. “I don’t have what they could offer him.”

“Do you forget you have a title?”

“Vicountess of Jakku is a British title. And besides, I don’t have money to go along with that title.”

“Neither do either of them if their country’s treasury doesn’t approve their spending. And they aren’t Alderaanian so you’re even.”

“I don’t speak German.”

“You could always learn? Always? Plenty of time for that? You have French and English down marvelously, two out of three of the official languages is a good place to start.“

“Well then I’m just not-”

“Enough?” Rose threw her hands up in the air. “Don’t start with that talk, My Lady. Just because you haven’t lived a traditionally royal lifestyle that doesn’t mean you aren’t clever or sophisticated or exceptionally beautiful. I’m sure His Highness thinks you’re refreshing. We all do, but him especially. He cares about you, Rey, and even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, you still should tell him to clear the air - although trust me, he reciprocates.”

Rey loathed to admit it, but Rose was right. She had to tell him, but she could see him be absolutely mobbed by the crowds.

“Rose, how do you think I should go about getting him alone?”

Rey couldn’t help but fidget as she waited in the Royal Stables, pacing back and forth, smoothing the ends of her skirt as she went over what she was going to say in her head over and over again.

“Lady Rey?” A deep baritone inquired as the very object of her affection came up behind her, the clip clop of his horse’s hooves accompanying them.

Alright, maybe they wouldn’t be completely alone, but at least there would be no other humans around.

“I missed you after the match today.” He said with a soft smile, wisps of his dark hair curling down over his forehead and framing his gorgeous golden brown eyes. “Let me just put D’Artagnan in his stall and we can chat, alright?”

She nodded, still unable to find her voice somehow. All she could do was watch as Ben pulled the chocolate brown steed into his quarters, gingerly patting him for a job well done and leaving some fresh treats in his trough before locking up for the night.

“Now, what was it you wanted to discuss?” He leaned on the stable wall to meet her height a little more, but the fact that he still towered over here made Rey want to melt on the spot.

“I-I wanted to apologize for distracting you during the match today. I’m afraid I cost us the win.”

“What?” He chuckled. “No, no. Please don’t worry. It was a charity match, the only winners are those in need who benefit from the proceedings. Though Armitage would tell you otherwise. He is insufferable when he loses, so I would say it worked out the best way possible for everyone.”

Rey giggled at that, and he continued speaking. “Though you are quite the distracting presence…”

His eyes locked with hers, and once again she felt herself entranced by their whiskey brown color. It was hard to decide if the minutes they passed drinking in the sight of each other were agonizing or pleasurable, but Rey had to break the silence all the same.

“I should tell you something.” They said, nearly at the same time, before the Prince deferred to her in a gentlemanly fashion.

She stood up a little straighter. “You’ve been so kind to me in these past few months, Your Highness.”

“Ben.” He corrected. “It’s always Ben to you, My Lady.”

“Right…Ben.” She hadn’t truly called him that since they first met while he was incognito, but she liked the sound of it and how it felt on her tongue, how it sounded in her own voice. “I have come to greatly enjoy our camaraderie, and your hospitality at the palace has been unparalleled to any I’ve known. But I find myself…thinking of you. All the time. Wherever I go, whatever I do. And I can’t stop myself.”

“Really?” He replied. “Do that many things remind you of me?”

“Yes. No. Possibly? I have enjoyed myself immensely in your company, Ben. Yet I can’t help wonder what it would be like if we were to…become…involved… romantically. You see, I’ve developed - mmm!”

She could do nothing but let out a little squeal as Ben’s one hand cradled the back of her neck, the other her waist as he pulled her towards him, sealing their lips in a kiss. One that made her head spin, left her in a dreamlike state with its soft and gentle nature. It was chaste, but comforting and caressing all at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” He said, bashful as he pulled back. “That was um…”

“Perfect.” She finished. “Don’t apologize for giving me what I was hoping for.”

He chuckled. “Good, good. Because this brings me to what I was about to ask you. Lady Rey, you seem to be aware of all that goes with this life, but despite all the trappings and trials of royal life, would you be willing to acknowledge your feelings for me and enter into a courtship?”

She was still a bit breathless from the kiss, but even more so from this proposal. “Of course.” She breathed.

“Excellent. I’ve been wanting to ask you since I first laid eyes on you in the bookshop but…I had no idea if you returned my feelings. Or wanted any of this lifestyle, I know it’s a lot to handle.”

“I don’t care about the lifestyle.” Rey responded, cradling his cheek. “I only want you. And whatever that brings with it I’m willing to brave.”

He gently took her hand off his face and brought it to his lips, kissing it reverently before entwining their fingers together. “Thank you. You’re the strongest person I know, Rey. I wouldn’t be the ruler-to-be I am today were it not for you.”

She snuggled into his side as they began walking. “You’re plenty strong on your own, Solo. Or is it Skywalker? Or Organa? You have so many middle and last names it’s hard to keep track.”

He chuckled. “You can choose whatever combination of names you want. But just know that Benjamin Lucas Anakin Organa Solo, of House Skywalker, is yours completely.”