After Hours I Minsung

Plans and Advice

Jisung isn't sure why he was looking forward to dancing class. Especially since it kicked his ass the last four times he's gone. Maybe it was the weird adrenaline he got from getting a good workout. Maybe it was the excitement of learning something new. Or maybe it had to do with the boy behind him, dancing so well and barely breaking a sweat. Watching him through the mirror instead of their teacher. How fast his heart beats or how nervous he gets any time their eyes meet. How can someone be so gorgeous while doing this kind of thing? His lips parted and his gaze focused on his own movements. "Focus, you idiot," He thinks to himself. "Look at the teacher, not him." Compared to all these guys, he feels like a complete amateur. How the hell can he stand in front of someone like Minho and dance like this? Why does he care? He doesn't even like dancing.

Jisung pants as he bends over; placing his hands firmly on his knees. "I'm gonna die," he whines.

"You're doing great, Jisungie!" Jeongin cheers.

"Bullshit..." he thinks.

"For a guy who mostly sat on his ass and played games, I think you're picking it up pretty fast," Changbin compliments.

Hyunjin nods quickly and pats Jisung's arm. "I agree. You're not used to all this exercise, so be easier on yourself."

Jisung looks up, watching Minho as he once again just heads for the locker room; not looking at anyone. He lets out a frustrated sigh. All this appraisal and compliments and he's not satisfied. He knows why but it makes him feel like an idiot. Swallowing hard, he yanks his beanie off and messes up his hair. He wants to hear it from Minho. He wants to see what his smile looks like as he says it. But why? The guy has just ignored him and barely even registered his existence except for that one time. He wants to be noticed.

Jisung bites his lip in thought. What if he practiced like hell and got good? If he could stand at his spot in front of Minho and manage to look like he might know what he's doing, maybe that'd get him to notice. With that in mind, he stands up straight and approaches the office. Once he gets the courage, the student knocks.

"It's open," their teacher calls out.

"Excuse me," Jisung mumbles. "I'm sorry to bother you, teacher. But how long is the dance room open for?"

"Depends," He replies and looks up from his paperwork. "Why? Are you wanting to get in some practice after hours?"

"Y-yeah, something like that."

"Good idea. You're lacking but I think you have potential. Use it as long as you need but remember to lock up when you leave."

"T-thank you." Jisung bows again before closing the door behind him. He nervously walks up to the group, rubbing his neck. "Hey, um...why don't you guys go without me?" he says as he pulls his hat back on. "I think I'm going to stay a little longer."

Felix raises a brow. "What? Really?"

"Yeah, kinda like...studying?"

"That's great initiative you're taking, Jisung," Hyunjin hums as he puts a hand on the younger boy's back. "That's an adorable trait."

"I...thank you? Felix squints at his friend, not seeming as convinced as the others. "Will you just go, Lix? We can talk about it later."

"Fine but I've got my eye on you," His friend jokes and pats him on the cheek. He waves to each of them, mumbling his goodbye as they leave. Jisung rubs his face in frustration with himself. Why is he such a fucking idiot?

Jisung knew what he was doing, that his body was already tired, exhausted, sore. And yet he pushes himself a little further for a good two hours. He stares up at the ceiling, his chest heaves up and down heavily. He pushes his shirt up and sets a hand on his bare stomach, his right arm outstretched to the side. The student's eyes shut and he licks his lip. With his fingers, he begins to rub in circular motions on the right side up until he reaches his rub bone. When the door creaks open, he lazily turns his head to look. Minho stares at him in confusion as he stands in the doorway. His eyes flicker down to Jisung's revealed stomach and the fingers that massage it. But it's brief. "Hey," he groans, giving a half-assed wave.