Ben arrived early. The studio was empty, sun leaking in through the window blinds in warm lines across the floor. He changed, stretched, and tried to breathe, but nothing helped.
Ben's mind was a hive of anxious noise. Desperate to distract himself, he opened YouTube and scrolled through choreography videos on their theme, Desire. Big mistake. Every routine he clicked on was slow, sensual, full of teasing lines and lingering touches. Instead of helping, it jump-started his imagination into overdrive.
Suddenly his brain was screening an uncensored, full-motion highlight reel of what dancing desire with Daniel might look like: Daniel pressed up against him, heat bleeding through, music pulsing between their bodies, hands sliding, eyes locked, breath mingling…
"Fucking hell," Ben muttered, snapping his head back like that would shake the images loose.
With a frustrated exhale, he tossed his phone aside and started freestyling, hoping his muscle memory could drown out the horny, panicked neurons short-circuiting his brain.
But even mid-spin, Daniel crept back into his thoughts. Was he panicking too? Was he nervous? Would he feel anything when they danced that close?
Ben stopped and collapsed onto the floor like a deflated balloon. He couldn't do this. He lay there, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly for distractions that never came.
Thirty minutes later, Daniel returned. Ben blinked, startled. He hadn't expected him to come back today.
"Hyung? I thought you had work?"
"Cancelled," Daniel said cheerfully. "Good for me. Time to practice."
Ben's stomach backflipped as he saw Daniel make his way to the changing room and emerge, a few minutes later, dressed in a tank top, rolling his shoulders, muscles flexing—
Ben looked away so fast he almost gave himself a whiplash.
Daniel started stretching, and Ben followed. For a few blissful minutes, Ben nearly convinced himself he could keep it together when suddenly,
"Uhhhhh," Daniel groaned, flopping onto the floor like he'd been shot. "Say something! I'm gonna die from the awkwardness!"
Ben blinked. "What do you want me to say?"
"Anything," Daniel said, throwing an arm over his face. "I feel like I'm trapped in a gothic horror novel, and you're the ghost who haunts my life in tragic silence."
Ben swallowed. He knew it was awkward, but didn't know what to do about it.
Daniel sighed, "Seriously, Ben. Ever since that day, you've barely spoken to me. Are you really gonna ghost me like this?"
Ben stared at him before saying, "Did you even understand what I said that day?"
Daniel pouted. "I get it. You like me enough to want to date me. But, I don't understand why you can't even be my friend?"
Ben stared at him. For a moment, he genuinely thought he'd misheard.
"Hyung," Ben said slowly, "how do you expect me to pretend like we're just friends when I feel the way I do about you?"
Daniel looked at him, tilting his head, confused. "Does wanting to date me make it so hard for you to even speak and hang out with me?"
Ben opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Was this really happening?
A strange heaviness settled in his chest.
"I'm not trying to ghost you," he said carefully. "And I'm not saying I don't want to be your friend. But I need time to sort out the mess in my head."
With full theatrical flair, Daniel got to his feet like someone had pressed play on a drama scene. He threw one hand in the air like he was on a stage, and said, "Then what do I do? Should I pay more attention to you? Compliment you more? Do you want me to take you out for a candlelight dinner? Because I can do that, if it gets us back to how we were before!"
Ben blinked.
Baboya. [Idiot]
Did he really think "dating" only meant going out for bubble tea and holding hands under fairy lights? If only it were that simple!
Ben rubbed his temple like a man on the verge of collapse. He wondered, not for the first time, what terrible decision-making flaw in his DNA had made him fall for this absolute moron. How could someone this charming and talented be this clueless?
His mind flashed back to that conversation with Terrence from months ago.
"…Did he ever date?"
"You'd think he would, wouldn't you?"
"Wait. He didn't?"
"He's thicker than a brick wall."
Ben groaned, covering his face with both hands. Of course, Daniel doesn't know. People probably threw themselves at him, and he pirouetted right past them on his way to rehearsal.
Sighing, he decided to change the subject before he gave himself a brain haemorrhage.
"About our dance," Ben said, shifting topics with all the subtlety of a freight train, "have you thought of something?"
Daniel immediately perked up. He stroked his imaginary beard with mock-seriousness, "Now that you mention Ben-ah, we're doing a duo piece, right? I think we should explore some Latin styles—Salsa, maybe Rumba. Or something more unique like Cha-cha-cha or Paso Doble."
Ben nearly chuckled. Whenever the topic was dance, Daniel forgets everything else. It gave Ben a strange ache in his stomach.
"Ballroom won't work," Ben said, pushing the ache aside. "Tango, maybe, but I think we need to focus more on the theme."
Daniel nodded seriously before turning to Ben. His expression made Ben's instincts flare like an animal sensing an impending disaster.
Daniel's voice came out edged with intrigue. "Desire's our word, yeah? You talked about it last week, so I figured you'd have better ideas for the concept than me."
Ben choked so hard on his own saliva that he nearly passed out. He coughed violently, waving his hands like he was fighting for his life.
"Hyung!" he wheezed. "It's bad enough you don't understand my feelings, but do you have to mock me for them too?!"
Daniel blinked, head tilted like a confused golden retriever. "I wasn't mocking you," he said, affronted. "I was being serious."
Ben narrowed his eyes.
Daniel backed off. "Okay, fine. I'll look it up myself."
Ben resisted the urge to grab his own hair and pull it out.
Was this guy trying to kill him?