Clunky Dancing (13/13)
Title: Clunky Dancing (13/13)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Genre: AU
Summary: His parents are strongly against dancing, especially when it comes to their only son. “Dancing is for girls”, they say. Little do they know, he sways in the darkness of his room and fantasizes about an escape to the rhythm of samba. He prays for someone to come and take him away from the dullness of his perfect life.
Changmin fumbles with the zipper of his pants in a desperate attempt at closing it with one hand, the other one being busy reaching for the shoes on the shelf. He's this close to giving up, when he feels someone press up behind him. With his arm still suspended in the air just above the shoes, he looks down at his crotch to see two hands pushing his own aside and pulling his zipper up. Breath hitching and heart leaping up to his throat, he turns his head just in time for Yunho to capture his mouth and encircle him in his burly, strong arms. Luckily, there's not a soul in sight in the improvised dressing room. For the first time in a long time, everything feels pretty damn right.
"We have less than two minutes to get on that stage..."
"I know, Changminnie. Just let me hold you like this for a little bit."
------------------
The spotlight practically blinds Changmin and suddenly his head is too clear and he feels like throwing up all over the stage. On one hand, he's grateful for the momentary inability to see because this way he doesn't have to worry about the guests and their stare, but on the other hand, everything else is fucking terrifying and for a split second he's overcome with the urge to just bolt out into space. Yunho does a good job at keeping him straight up.
"Come on. It will all be over before you can say 'I fucking hate everybody in this room'."
Changmin muffles a snort into the back of his hand, a sudden, unasked for hilarity jolting through him. Yunho shakes his head in amusement and leads him to the middle of the stage.
After a quick bow to the audience, which is promptly met by a weak round of applause sprinkled with a few whispers here and there, everything goes so fast that Changmin can barely get a sense of what he's doing. A loud buzz replaces the music in his ears and he just follows Yunho's lead, just looks into his eyes and never once down at their feet, exactly the way he's been taught.
The soft touch of silk when he brushes Yunho's shoulder, the strong grip that Yunho has on the little of his back, the explosions of heat that light up Yunho's eyes, everything feels like a really hot and steamy dream. It's like being drunk on gasoline and Changmin kind of loves it, kind of loves the flames that lick at his stomach. His feet almost don't touch the ground, in Yunho's arms he weighs maybe a feather and a half.
All at once, the rhythm pierces the cocoon and Changmin hatches out of it. It all becomes painfully clear and real, the tapping of their heels on the ground and their breaths together over the sound of congas and maracas and a couple of extremely loud trumpets.
Changmin envisions himself in a smoky bar in Havana. He's lounging near the counter with a Cuba Libre in his hand, people around him dancing themselves to ashes as salsa blares from the speakers. Someone emerges from the crowd and of course it's Yunho with a rose between his lips and of course Changmin has it all wrong because that's obviously something that belongs in a tango but whatever, Yunho looks good enough to eat anyway. The Cuba Libre lies forgotten on the counter as Changmin gravitates towards the dance floor.
He snaps out of his fantasy because the real Yunho launches him into a double, triple spin and the room just doesn't stop spinning afterwards.
"Hang in there, it's almost over."
Yunho whispers words of encouragement when his back faces the audience. Changmin nods faintly, making a mental note to tell him about his ridiculous daydream later on.
------------------
The ring of applause is still loud in Changmin's ears even hours after the performance, and flashes of the standing ovation that the guests had given them still appear randomly before his closed eyes. Now that it's all over, now that breathing doesn't hurt anymore, and even Yunho's bed seems more comfortable than ever, he thinks about how he had to conjure every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to run off stage and go hide himself in the dressing room, taking all the cheering and clapping instead. Yunho had held his hand and together they had bowed deeply before the audience. Upon raising his head, Changmin had purposely avoided looking at his parents, opting for a quick glance around the crowd. Wide eyed, he had thought that everybody must had been blinded by Yunho's talent, because he was pretty sure his own performance had been a complete disaster. Three familiar faces in the far back of the room had brought about a smile, and seeing the proud look on them had made him beam with equal pleasure, half convincing him that maybe he really hadn't sucked so bad after all.
A few minutes after the performance, the owners of said faces had reached him and Yunho backstage with three bottles of champagne, initiating a toast that ended up soaking half the gang. As a big middle finger to the director and Changmin's parents and generally everybody who hadn't been on their side, the five friends had left the hall through the back door, effectively avoiding the rest of the staff and the guests. Without even waiting to reach the cafeteria, they had partied along the way to the staff quarters, singing and dancing and just being obnoxiously happy. Yoochun and Junsu had kept kissing and fondling each other, with Jaejoong not-too-subtly trying to join in. Changmin, who had taken pity on such a sight, had scooted over to him and enveloped him in a bear hug.
Midway to their destination, a summer storm had started to brew in the distance. The air had grown colder all of a sudden, with thunder rumbling deeply and a faint lightning illuminating the otherwise dark night. Yunho had removed Jaejoong from Changmin's grip, deaf to the whining of the former and the giggling of the latter. He had urged everbody to hurry to their own cabins, hastily bidding them goodnight before scooping up Changmin and vanishing into the shadows.
Changmin clearly remembers Yunho's face when he had asked him if he was afraid of storms. He remembers Yunho shushing him and putting him to bed, then switching off the lights and bolting the door and windows shut. Heavy rain had started pouring down mere seconds after that.
High on love and (mostly) champagne, Changmin had switched the bedside lamp on and happily jumped off the bed, blabbing something about how cool summer storms were. Yunho had switched the light off again with a loud curse, then tackled him to the bed and slipped underneath the sheets himself. They had stayed like that for a long time. Rain had kept pouring, and Yunho had kept holding him.
But sleep doesn't come easy to Changmin. He came down from his drunken high about half an hour ago, and now his mind is more awake than ever, sharper and faster than the lightning outside. Judging by the deep and steady breaths that reach his ear, the lover wrapped around his back like the softest and warmest blanket is soundly asleep. He tries to concentrate on them, hoping that the calming pattern mixed with the sound of rain might help him drift off.
"Let's live together."
Okay. Maybe Yunho is not sleeping. Or maybe Changmin has heard wrong, it wouldn't be the first time he sleep talks. Just to be sure of it, he switches the bedside lamp on and carefully turns his head to look at him. Yunho's eyes are closed, they even crinkle a bit because of the light.
"Changminnie, the lamp… The storm…"
"Oh come on, it's not like we're going to blow up. By any chance, were you sleep talking?"
Changmin is not sure why he's whispering in response to Yunho's mumbling. The older man still hasn't opened his eyes, but his grip on Changmin's waist suddenly grows tighter as his mouth grows closer to his ear.
"I love you. Let's live together?"
Changmin blinks. Then again. Then he turns his whole body around to face him and without too much finesse, he pries Yunho's right eye open with his thumb and index finger.
"Are you sure you want to take in a stray like me?"
"I want to take in the man I love. Who happens to be a stray. A brave, talented, gorgeous stray."
Changmin pretty much turns into a salt statue. He doesn't know whether to rejoice or cry, so he just stays still, eyes fixed on his lover's small, sleepy face. That is, until he speaks again.
"Since when do you need reassuring, you silly baby?"
That's when Changmin blows hard in Yunho's eye and turns around again to switch off the light, grumbling about storms and electrocutions but secretly smiling with glossy eyes and a singing heart.
------------------
The smell of black coffee and burnt toast wakes Changmin up, just in time for breakfast. It takes his eyes some time to adjust, because the windows are now all open and the sun shines bright inside the cabin, casting its warm light on Yunho's bare back as he clatters by the sink. Changmin intends to burns the sight on his retinas. Keeping his gaze on him, he carefully slides out of bed and silently approaches the place where he's standing. As he draws nearer, he realizes that Yunho is humming the tune to which they had danced, their salsa song. Grinning from cheek to cheek, he sneaks up behind him and puts his hands over his eyes.
"Hmm. Who could this be? I need a hint."
Mildly disappointed that he didn't jerk in shock, nor drop a bowl or something, Changmin licks his lips and goes for it.
"Not going to make this easy for you… I'm the best dancer around. And I'm really really handsome."
"It's my Changminnie then!!"
With that, Yunho grabs the younger man's hands and turns around, eyes sparkling with glee. Changmin pouts.
"You're no fun to play with."
------------------
"We could live off Junsu, you know. Go nestle up in that nice attic of his, just outside town. The view is amazing. Really, baby, you don't have to finish that! I won't feel bad, I know I'm crap at cooking..."
Changmin shakes his head as he guzzles down another piece of burnt toast, trying hard not to choke on it.
"It's fine. About that, don't you think we should at least pay the rent?"
"Of course, but how-"
The doorbell interrupts Yunho. He rises from his chair with a frown and goes over to the door, opening it without thinking twice about it. Changmin considers that maybe he should have watched throught the peephole for good measure first, but he can't say anything because Yunho has already stepped aside to let the guest in.
"Mom?"
Changmin gets up and almost automatically goes to stand beside his partner, keeping his eyes on Mrs. Shim as she steps inside the cabin. Impeccable in her purple silk blouse and gray pencil skirt, she extends a hand for Yunho to shake.
"I'm Changmin's mother, but I guess you already know that."
Yunho awkwardly takes her hand and shakes it slowly, glancing at Changmin as if to check his reaction.
"Before we leave, I have something to tell you both."
"Mom, please, I think you and dad have been more than clear about it. Please, just please-"
"No, I am the one who has to plead here. I am sorry. I am really, truly, so sorry. For everything."
What follows are tears, pleas, and more tears. Yunho looks oddly unsure of what to do, which Changmin thinks isn't like him at all. The one who gives him strength, the one who leads, now just stands there in a stupor.
Mrs. Shim rubs her eyes with her polished fingertips, scoffing lightly at herself.
"Ah, forgive me… I thought I could hold it back, I was so set on making things right… Anyway, please accept this."
She slips a hand inside her purse and pulls out an envelope, which she hands to Changmin. Suddenly aware of what's inside, he's about to hand it back with words of indignation, but before he can even speak or move, she's already half outside the door.
"Don't be offended, honey. It's just a little thing to help you start your life together. I sincerely hope it will be happier than mine."
Changmin stares at the bulky envelope. Maybe he had done it after all? Maybe he had succeeded in reaching out to her. And now she was gone. Overcome with emotions and the desire to make things right on his side as well, he shoves the envelope in Yunho's hands and darts out of the door. He stops only when he finds himself in his mother's arms, tears mixing and thank yous overlapping.
------------------
People talk about the gay couple's dance number for a long time after that summer, and many guests return the following year in hope of seeing them on stage again. Much to everybody's dismay, though, they're both nowhere to be seen. The resort's management, in the meantime, puts out a job listing for a dance instructor and a cook.
Three young girls swear they have seen the taller boy waiting tables at this cute little new Thai restaurant in the middle of town, which is managed by a bubbly, young chef with a knack for spicy creations who often goes on about the broke musician and the rich heir who live in the tiny rooftop just above his rented flat. Good hearted and affectionate, he treats his customers like family, giving out advice and trying to help in any way he can. One time, he even convinced a middle aged couple that had lamented a lack of stimuli to sign up for a latin dance class in a newly opened dance school, pinpointing the fact that the owner was one of his best friends and a great person overall.
You should totally go, he had told them. Not only for good fun. Dancing awakens the spirit and fuels the imagination. It develops self confidence and strengthens the bond between two partners. Then he had lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone and nodded over to the tall, lanky waiter who was clearing a table nearby. Love is a lot like dancing. You just surrender to the music.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Genre: AU
Summary: His parents are strongly against dancing, especially when it comes to their only son. “Dancing is for girls”, they say. Little do they know, he sways in the darkness of his room and fantasizes about an escape to the rhythm of samba. He prays for someone to come and take him away from the dullness of his perfect life.
Changmin fumbles with the zipper of his pants in a desperate attempt at closing it with one hand, the other one being busy reaching for the shoes on the shelf. He's this close to giving up, when he feels someone press up behind him. With his arm still suspended in the air just above the shoes, he looks down at his crotch to see two hands pushing his own aside and pulling his zipper up. Breath hitching and heart leaping up to his throat, he turns his head just in time for Yunho to capture his mouth and encircle him in his burly, strong arms. Luckily, there's not a soul in sight in the improvised dressing room. For the first time in a long time, everything feels pretty damn right.
"We have less than two minutes to get on that stage..."
"I know, Changminnie. Just let me hold you like this for a little bit."
------------------
The spotlight practically blinds Changmin and suddenly his head is too clear and he feels like throwing up all over the stage. On one hand, he's grateful for the momentary inability to see because this way he doesn't have to worry about the guests and their stare, but on the other hand, everything else is fucking terrifying and for a split second he's overcome with the urge to just bolt out into space. Yunho does a good job at keeping him straight up.
"Come on. It will all be over before you can say 'I fucking hate everybody in this room'."
Changmin muffles a snort into the back of his hand, a sudden, unasked for hilarity jolting through him. Yunho shakes his head in amusement and leads him to the middle of the stage.
After a quick bow to the audience, which is promptly met by a weak round of applause sprinkled with a few whispers here and there, everything goes so fast that Changmin can barely get a sense of what he's doing. A loud buzz replaces the music in his ears and he just follows Yunho's lead, just looks into his eyes and never once down at their feet, exactly the way he's been taught.
The soft touch of silk when he brushes Yunho's shoulder, the strong grip that Yunho has on the little of his back, the explosions of heat that light up Yunho's eyes, everything feels like a really hot and steamy dream. It's like being drunk on gasoline and Changmin kind of loves it, kind of loves the flames that lick at his stomach. His feet almost don't touch the ground, in Yunho's arms he weighs maybe a feather and a half.
All at once, the rhythm pierces the cocoon and Changmin hatches out of it. It all becomes painfully clear and real, the tapping of their heels on the ground and their breaths together over the sound of congas and maracas and a couple of extremely loud trumpets.
Changmin envisions himself in a smoky bar in Havana. He's lounging near the counter with a Cuba Libre in his hand, people around him dancing themselves to ashes as salsa blares from the speakers. Someone emerges from the crowd and of course it's Yunho with a rose between his lips and of course Changmin has it all wrong because that's obviously something that belongs in a tango but whatever, Yunho looks good enough to eat anyway. The Cuba Libre lies forgotten on the counter as Changmin gravitates towards the dance floor.
He snaps out of his fantasy because the real Yunho launches him into a double, triple spin and the room just doesn't stop spinning afterwards.
"Hang in there, it's almost over."
Yunho whispers words of encouragement when his back faces the audience. Changmin nods faintly, making a mental note to tell him about his ridiculous daydream later on.
------------------
The ring of applause is still loud in Changmin's ears even hours after the performance, and flashes of the standing ovation that the guests had given them still appear randomly before his closed eyes. Now that it's all over, now that breathing doesn't hurt anymore, and even Yunho's bed seems more comfortable than ever, he thinks about how he had to conjure every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to run off stage and go hide himself in the dressing room, taking all the cheering and clapping instead. Yunho had held his hand and together they had bowed deeply before the audience. Upon raising his head, Changmin had purposely avoided looking at his parents, opting for a quick glance around the crowd. Wide eyed, he had thought that everybody must had been blinded by Yunho's talent, because he was pretty sure his own performance had been a complete disaster. Three familiar faces in the far back of the room had brought about a smile, and seeing the proud look on them had made him beam with equal pleasure, half convincing him that maybe he really hadn't sucked so bad after all.
A few minutes after the performance, the owners of said faces had reached him and Yunho backstage with three bottles of champagne, initiating a toast that ended up soaking half the gang. As a big middle finger to the director and Changmin's parents and generally everybody who hadn't been on their side, the five friends had left the hall through the back door, effectively avoiding the rest of the staff and the guests. Without even waiting to reach the cafeteria, they had partied along the way to the staff quarters, singing and dancing and just being obnoxiously happy. Yoochun and Junsu had kept kissing and fondling each other, with Jaejoong not-too-subtly trying to join in. Changmin, who had taken pity on such a sight, had scooted over to him and enveloped him in a bear hug.
Midway to their destination, a summer storm had started to brew in the distance. The air had grown colder all of a sudden, with thunder rumbling deeply and a faint lightning illuminating the otherwise dark night. Yunho had removed Jaejoong from Changmin's grip, deaf to the whining of the former and the giggling of the latter. He had urged everbody to hurry to their own cabins, hastily bidding them goodnight before scooping up Changmin and vanishing into the shadows.
Changmin clearly remembers Yunho's face when he had asked him if he was afraid of storms. He remembers Yunho shushing him and putting him to bed, then switching off the lights and bolting the door and windows shut. Heavy rain had started pouring down mere seconds after that.
High on love and (mostly) champagne, Changmin had switched the bedside lamp on and happily jumped off the bed, blabbing something about how cool summer storms were. Yunho had switched the light off again with a loud curse, then tackled him to the bed and slipped underneath the sheets himself. They had stayed like that for a long time. Rain had kept pouring, and Yunho had kept holding him.
But sleep doesn't come easy to Changmin. He came down from his drunken high about half an hour ago, and now his mind is more awake than ever, sharper and faster than the lightning outside. Judging by the deep and steady breaths that reach his ear, the lover wrapped around his back like the softest and warmest blanket is soundly asleep. He tries to concentrate on them, hoping that the calming pattern mixed with the sound of rain might help him drift off.
"Let's live together."
Okay. Maybe Yunho is not sleeping. Or maybe Changmin has heard wrong, it wouldn't be the first time he sleep talks. Just to be sure of it, he switches the bedside lamp on and carefully turns his head to look at him. Yunho's eyes are closed, they even crinkle a bit because of the light.
"Changminnie, the lamp… The storm…"
"Oh come on, it's not like we're going to blow up. By any chance, were you sleep talking?"
Changmin is not sure why he's whispering in response to Yunho's mumbling. The older man still hasn't opened his eyes, but his grip on Changmin's waist suddenly grows tighter as his mouth grows closer to his ear.
"I love you. Let's live together?"
Changmin blinks. Then again. Then he turns his whole body around to face him and without too much finesse, he pries Yunho's right eye open with his thumb and index finger.
"Are you sure you want to take in a stray like me?"
"I want to take in the man I love. Who happens to be a stray. A brave, talented, gorgeous stray."
Changmin pretty much turns into a salt statue. He doesn't know whether to rejoice or cry, so he just stays still, eyes fixed on his lover's small, sleepy face. That is, until he speaks again.
"Since when do you need reassuring, you silly baby?"
That's when Changmin blows hard in Yunho's eye and turns around again to switch off the light, grumbling about storms and electrocutions but secretly smiling with glossy eyes and a singing heart.
------------------
The smell of black coffee and burnt toast wakes Changmin up, just in time for breakfast. It takes his eyes some time to adjust, because the windows are now all open and the sun shines bright inside the cabin, casting its warm light on Yunho's bare back as he clatters by the sink. Changmin intends to burns the sight on his retinas. Keeping his gaze on him, he carefully slides out of bed and silently approaches the place where he's standing. As he draws nearer, he realizes that Yunho is humming the tune to which they had danced, their salsa song. Grinning from cheek to cheek, he sneaks up behind him and puts his hands over his eyes.
"Hmm. Who could this be? I need a hint."
Mildly disappointed that he didn't jerk in shock, nor drop a bowl or something, Changmin licks his lips and goes for it.
"Not going to make this easy for you… I'm the best dancer around. And I'm really really handsome."
"It's my Changminnie then!!"
With that, Yunho grabs the younger man's hands and turns around, eyes sparkling with glee. Changmin pouts.
"You're no fun to play with."
------------------
"We could live off Junsu, you know. Go nestle up in that nice attic of his, just outside town. The view is amazing. Really, baby, you don't have to finish that! I won't feel bad, I know I'm crap at cooking..."
Changmin shakes his head as he guzzles down another piece of burnt toast, trying hard not to choke on it.
"It's fine. About that, don't you think we should at least pay the rent?"
"Of course, but how-"
The doorbell interrupts Yunho. He rises from his chair with a frown and goes over to the door, opening it without thinking twice about it. Changmin considers that maybe he should have watched throught the peephole for good measure first, but he can't say anything because Yunho has already stepped aside to let the guest in.
"Mom?"
Changmin gets up and almost automatically goes to stand beside his partner, keeping his eyes on Mrs. Shim as she steps inside the cabin. Impeccable in her purple silk blouse and gray pencil skirt, she extends a hand for Yunho to shake.
"I'm Changmin's mother, but I guess you already know that."
Yunho awkwardly takes her hand and shakes it slowly, glancing at Changmin as if to check his reaction.
"Before we leave, I have something to tell you both."
"Mom, please, I think you and dad have been more than clear about it. Please, just please-"
"No, I am the one who has to plead here. I am sorry. I am really, truly, so sorry. For everything."
What follows are tears, pleas, and more tears. Yunho looks oddly unsure of what to do, which Changmin thinks isn't like him at all. The one who gives him strength, the one who leads, now just stands there in a stupor.
Mrs. Shim rubs her eyes with her polished fingertips, scoffing lightly at herself.
"Ah, forgive me… I thought I could hold it back, I was so set on making things right… Anyway, please accept this."
She slips a hand inside her purse and pulls out an envelope, which she hands to Changmin. Suddenly aware of what's inside, he's about to hand it back with words of indignation, but before he can even speak or move, she's already half outside the door.
"Don't be offended, honey. It's just a little thing to help you start your life together. I sincerely hope it will be happier than mine."
Changmin stares at the bulky envelope. Maybe he had done it after all? Maybe he had succeeded in reaching out to her. And now she was gone. Overcome with emotions and the desire to make things right on his side as well, he shoves the envelope in Yunho's hands and darts out of the door. He stops only when he finds himself in his mother's arms, tears mixing and thank yous overlapping.
------------------
People talk about the gay couple's dance number for a long time after that summer, and many guests return the following year in hope of seeing them on stage again. Much to everybody's dismay, though, they're both nowhere to be seen. The resort's management, in the meantime, puts out a job listing for a dance instructor and a cook.
Three young girls swear they have seen the taller boy waiting tables at this cute little new Thai restaurant in the middle of town, which is managed by a bubbly, young chef with a knack for spicy creations who often goes on about the broke musician and the rich heir who live in the tiny rooftop just above his rented flat. Good hearted and affectionate, he treats his customers like family, giving out advice and trying to help in any way he can. One time, he even convinced a middle aged couple that had lamented a lack of stimuli to sign up for a latin dance class in a newly opened dance school, pinpointing the fact that the owner was one of his best friends and a great person overall.
You should totally go, he had told them. Not only for good fun. Dancing awakens the spirit and fuels the imagination. It develops self confidence and strengthens the bond between two partners. Then he had lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone and nodded over to the tall, lanky waiter who was clearing a table nearby. Love is a lot like dancing. You just surrender to the music.