Mischief Managed (Stray Kids Oneshots)

Dance Practice | Lee Minho

The sound of the bass reverberated through the walls as you walked into the dance studio. The lights were dimmed low, casting long shadows across the floor. The usual energy of Stray Kids' rehearsals had quieted down for the moment, and you knew the group had already gone for their break. But Minho had stayed behind, as usual, working on a few dance routines. You couldn't resist stopping by to see how he was doing, especially since you had been dying to see his moves in person.

Minho was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he practiced some intricate footwork. He was lost in the rhythm, his body moving fluidly to the beat. His focus was undeniable, and for a moment, you felt like an intruder, unsure if you should interrupt his practice. But then, as if sensing you standing there, Minho looked up with a smile that immediately made you feel at ease.

"You're here," he said, his voice smooth, but with that trademark mischief in his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

You smiled back, leaning against the doorframe. "I thought I'd come see the master at work."

He chuckled and walked toward you, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "You want to join me today?" he asked, his tone playful. "You've been talking about learning a few moves for a while now. I think it's time you get a lesson."

You hesitated for a moment, knowing you didn't have nearly the same skill as Minho, but there was something about his smile, his energy, that made you feel like you could take on the challenge.

"Alright, let's do it," you replied, a determined smile spreading across your face.

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by your sudden confidence. He motioned toward the open space in the center of the room. "Alright, follow my lead. First, let's start with a basic step," he said, demonstrating the smooth, sharp movement with his body. "You're gonna move your feet like this..."

You watched him intently, trying to match his precision, but when you took your first step, your foot seemed to do its own thing. The movement wasn't as smooth, and your timing was way off. You paused, blinking a few times in confusion. Minho caught your eye and burst into laughter.

"Okay, maybe I underestimated how much of a challenge this would be," he teased, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "Let's try something simpler. How about this?"

He demonstrated a much easier move this time—a quick twirl combined with a soft kick. It looked effortless on him, his body flowing like water, but when you attempted it, your kick almost turned into a stumble.

"Whoa!" you exclaimed, laughing at yourself. "Okay, you're definitely going to need to slow down a bit with me."

Minho raised his hands in mock surrender, his smile wide. "I'm sorry. I guess I was expecting you to already have the skills of a professional dancer."

"Oh, sure, you know me. A hidden dancing prodigy," you replied, giving him a teasing wink. "I just need to get warmed up."

His eyes glinted with mischief. "Well, let's see what you've got. How about we make this a little more interesting?" He pushed off from the wall, an idea clearly forming in his mind. "A dance-off. I'll show you some moves, and you try to keep up. But if I win, you owe me dinner."

A playful smirk formed on your lips as you leaned in. "And if I win?"

Minho's eyes narrowed playfully. "Then I'll owe you dinner."

You considered it for a moment, enjoying the challenge. "Deal."

Minho clapped his hands together, excited by the idea. "Alright, prepare to be amazed," he said dramatically, starting the music again. The beat dropped, and you were instantly caught up in the energy of it.

He moved first, starting with a fast-paced series of steps and spins. His moves were crisp and sharp, and it was clear he had a lot of control. Every movement felt deliberate, like he was telling a story with his body. You couldn't help but watch him in awe, trying to keep track of every step. When he finished his sequence with a smooth slide across the floor, he stood up straight, eyes gleaming.

"Your turn," he said, motioning toward you with a grin.

You felt your heart race a little. Minho's skill was incredible, but you weren't going to back down. You cracked your knuckles and got into position, the rhythm of the song flowing through you. You decided to keep it lighthearted—no need to go all out just yet. You started with some simple moves, but added a little flair, like a quick turn and a dramatic dip to the floor. You could feel the energy building, and as you worked through the sequence, a smile crept across your face.

When you finished your little routine, Minho stood there, his hands on his hips, eyes wide. "Okay, that was... unexpected," he said, clearly impressed. "You've got some moves I didn't know about."

You laughed, catching your breath. "Guess I'm not such a lost cause after all."

Minho gave you an exaggerated bow. "You're officially a worthy opponent."

But he wasn't about to let you win just yet. He took a few steps back, shaking his shoulders as if preparing for a big move. "Alright, I'm going to take it up a notch," he warned.

Before you could even react, Minho launched into an intense series of steps, his body moving fluidly, hitting every beat of the song with precision. He incorporated flips and spins that made you gasp, his energy unmatched. You tried to match his intensity, but with every move he made, it felt like you were always one step behind.

When he finished, he stood tall, chest rising and falling from the exertion. "Well, looks like I've won," he said, panting slightly, though his grin never left his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Fine, fine. You win. But only because you've got years of practice on me."

Minho laughed, walking toward you and offering a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, I'll treat you to dinner. But next time, I'm bringing my A-game."

You took his hand, letting him pull you into a playful hug. "I'll be ready," you said, smiling up at him. "But you might want to practice your moves a bit more. I'm coming for you next time."

As he grinned down at you, the playful energy between you both lingered in the air. Even though the dance-off was over, the fun, the competition, and the connection were still very much alive.

4o mini