Throughout the week, Minho and Felix spent hours together, working on perfecting Felix's dance skills. Watching Minho's dance videos had made him realize as good as he was, self-taught and everything, he still had some ways to improve.
Especially with his core skills, he noticed it the first thing into the step he was trying to copy of Minho. It required a basic acrobat move of flipping on a low crouch and then spinning himself up to stand. He crashed into the ground on his try though and laid there, regretting the entire decision as the throbbing in his shoulder subsided and the ceiling stopped tilting.
Minho had given his pitiful form one look and outright laughed at his face as he grimaced from the whiplash he had gotten on his pathetic attempt of following the elder's moves.
In the spacious practice room, the mirrored walls reflected their forms as Minho demonstrated a simple yet crucial move—shifting weight seamlessly from one leg to the other. His footwork, Felix had observed, was immaculate due to the easy tension and core strength in his strong thighs. Unlike his skinny legs and lanky knees, Minho had muscled calves and thick thighs to create more fluidity in his moves rather than a disconnected choppy stumble.
"It's all about control," Minho instructed, his voice low and focused. He stepped forward, weight balanced perfectly, muscles in his legs and thighs flexing with each motion. "Keep your core engaged. It's not just about the legs but your entire body."
Felix tried to follow, but his gaze kept drifting shamelessly. The way Minho's body moved was mesmerizing—the precision, the strength. And then there were those thighs. Thick, powerful, glistening with a light sheen of sweat for God bless him, Minho had decided to wear black shorts under his large white tee. Each time he shifted his weight, Felix found it harder to concentrate on anything but the fluidity of his movements and the way his thighs flexed with effort.
"Felix?" Minho's voice snapped him back to reality. "You're straying. Focus."
Felix jerked in place, embarrassed and sheepish at having been caught. "Sorry, got a little distracted." By you.
Minho chuckled softly, unaware of Felix's inner turmoil. He moved closer, standing behind Felix, guiding his hips with firm hands. "Here, let me help. Shift like this."
The warmth of his hands on his hips sent a jolt through Felix, his heart beating faster. He tried to concentrate on the movement, but the proximity was intoxicating. Minho's breath on his neck, his body so close—Felix's thoughts started to wander, imagining things far beyond dancing.
Uh-huh, how was he supposed to learn anything like this?
By midweek, they were working on turns. Minho demonstrated a graceful spin, his body perfectly aligned, feet gliding smoothly across the floor. When he stopped, he was face-to-face with Felix, closer than expected.
"It's all about balance," Minho explained, his voice slightly breathless. "Find your center, and the rest follows."
Felix tried to replicate the move, but his spins were shaky. Minho stepped in, placing a hand on Felix's lower back to steady him. The touch was electric, and Felix struggled to focus on anything other than the feel of Minho's hand against his skin.
Spin, spin, spin, spin, his world was spinning out of control with every second spent in Minho's vicinity.
"Relax," he murmured, eyes locking with Felix's. "You're too tense."
Felix swallowed, trying to relax, but it was impossible with Minho this close, with that intense gaze holding him captive. He spun again, this time better, but as he finished, he stumbled, falling against Minho.
