Whole Lotta Glam (Sugar, Sweat, Spice.) → for haoxihuanni (1/4)
Title: Whole Lotta Glam (Sugar, Sweat, Spice.)
Recipient: haoxihuanni
Pairing(s): Kris/Minseok, Minseok/Chen, broken!Kris/Chanyeol
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Cross-dressing, references to sexual activity, referenced homophobia.
Word count: 30,834
Summary: It's not everyday you run into your childhood sweetheart at Burlesque class.
Kris shifts uncomfortably in the front seat of Luhan’s car, hands tapping a frenzied rhythm onto his thigh. His eyes dart around rapidly and he tries to calculate whether it would be plausible for him to unbuckle and jump out at the next traffic signal without Luhan noticing. The older boy can apparently read minds as he fixes him with a stern look. “I’ve got the child safety locks on, don’t even think about it.”
Kris frowns, folding his arms petulantly. “This is stupid,” he mutters, kicking the gym bag at his feet.
Luhan smiles beatifically. “But it was your own idea.”
“I was drunk!” he protests, stomach knotted in fear as they pull up outside the Black Pearl Dance Studios. “I wouldn’t have signed up for a… class otherwise.”
“Burlesque,” Luhan says, unbuckling his seat belt and exiting the car. Kris tries to follow suit but the door remains stubbornly locked. Luhan opens it from outside and sticks his head in. “You signed up for a burlesque class. Really Kris, if you can’t even say it, how are you going to do it?”
“I don’t want to do it,” he snaps, pushing the elder out of the way as he steps out. Luhan retrieves the gym bag, slinging it over one shoulder before linking arms with Kris.
“Well, you know what they say about things we do while drunk are manifestations of our inner desires or some shit.” He smirks as he proceeds to drag Kris towards the entrance. “Maybe your latent love for nipple pasties and body glitter is finally coming to light.”
Kris tries to drag his feet but Luhan is packing a lot of strength in that petite body and the shorter man easily yanks him until they’re inside the building, the smell of sweat and wood polish assaulting their nostrils. Luhan pulls them through dimly lit corridors, squinting at the doors. “Look for room seven, that’s where the class is being held.”
The room is located at the end of the hall. Through the small window in the door, Kris can spot a small group of people huddled around and his stomach lurches.“Luhan, I seriously don’t think I can do this.” he begs, trying to back away from the door.
Luhan sighs, tugging him down on a bench by the wall. “Can’t or are too scared to try?” He tips Kris’s chin up. “Kris, when was the last time you tried something new? Went out of your comfort zone even a little bit?”
Kris shifts, uneasy with the scrutiny. “I like routine, Lu. You know that.”
Luhan scoffs. “There’s routine and there’s ruts. You’re stuck in the latter.”
There’s a dull ache in Kris’s chest as he recalls those same words being said to him a week ago by the person the most important to him.
He watches Chanyeol pack his things, gut clenching each time he tosses another article into his suitcase. “Yeol, love, please don’t do this.” He’s not even bothering to hide the desperation in his tone and he sees Chanyeol wince momentarily before schooling his features back into the steely expression he’s been wearing for the past hour. Kris hates it, it looks unnatural on Chanyeol’s face and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off, to bring back the megawatt smile he’d fallen in love with more than three years ago. “Yeol,” he whispers and Chanyeol sighs loudly, packing his shirts into the suitcase with more force than probably necessary.
“We talked about this already,” he says, still refusing to meet Kris’s eyes. “I just think we’re at a place in our lives where we both want different things.” It’s a rehearsed speech, delivered in monotone and Kris balls up his fists, fighting back his irritation.
“Really? Because I was fine with things the way they ar--were Chanyeol. I never wanted anything more than you.”
Chanyeol rearranges his snapback, eyes screwed up in frustration. “That’s the problem Kris.” He folds a sweater and viciously shoves it in. “You never want anything more. You’re just so set in the way things are that you refuse to see what else might be out there.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re boring, Kris!” Chanyeol yells, voice echoing around the room. He takes a deep breath before locking eyes with the elder. “When we met you were so exciting, so full of life, spontaneous. I fell in love with that.” His voice wavers slightly and Kris wants to go over and pull him to his chest, nuzzle into that soft red hair but he doesn’t because he knows Chanyeol will pull away and he can’t handle that.
“You- you refuse to deviate even a little bit from routine. Every time I try to get you to do something, go out somewhere new with me, I get shut down. It- it makes me feel like shit, okay?!” Chanyeol is yelling now, deep voice echoing around the room and Kris is frozen.
“Tell me Kris, when was the last time we went out on a date? The last time you surprised me? The last time you came home from work before ten? The last time we had sex in a position other than missionary? Fuck, try to remember the last time we had sex.” Every sentence is punctuated with a thud as Chanyeol shoves more items into the case, not even bothering with folding anymore. “I can’t take anymore of this, Kris. You’re sucking all the joy and spontaneity out of me.” He shuts the suitcase with a snap, the locks clicking into place. He pulls it off the bed, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry but I deserve better than this. You deserve to live better than this.”
He’s out of the bedroom and down the corridor before Kris moves. He grabs Chanyeol’s arm as he stands with his hand on the front door. He wraps his arms around his waist pulling Chanyeol’s body to his chest.
“What do you want me to do, Chanyeol? I’ll try if you want me to. I don- please don’t leave.” He hears more than feels Chanyeol drawing away and the younger presses a soft kiss to his temple.
“Pull yourself out of this rut, Kris. You owe yourself that much.”
He stands there long after the door has closed softly, eyes blankly staring at the wall as he wonders how he’s going to make this apartment feel less empty now.
Luhan tugs on his hair gently, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Kris, I’m not going to force you into doing this. You’re a grown man and you can make your own decisions. But I really think you’ll regret it if you don’t even give it a chance.” He taps him on the chin. “Just one class.”
Kris sighs. “Just one class.” He agrees, standing slowly. He takes his gym bag from Luhan and slowly trudges towards room seven, swallowing hard as he turns the doorknob. He hears Luhan whisper, “Jiayo, Kris!” behind him as he enters.
The dance room is open and airy with floor to ceiling mirrors on three of the walls, the oak floor smooth and polished. There’s a stripper pole installed in the center of the room and Kris eyes it warily as he enters. There are already a dozen or so people in the room and a man with tan skin and the most gorgeous cheekbones Kris has ever seen calls out to him.
“Hi there, are you here for Beginners Burlesque?” At Kris’s nervous nod he smiles and waves cheerily. “Just take a seat anywhere; I’ll need you to fill out some forms.”
Kris sits down on one of the low wooden benches set up at the back of the room, taking the opportunity to scan the rest of the people in the class. It’s an odd mix, the people ranging from fresh-faced kids who look like college students to those dressed in stiff business attire who look as out of place as he feels. The man beside him is wearing a cardigan for chrissake.
Kai returns and has Kris sign a bunch of forms, including an ominous sounding waiver absolving the dance company of any responsibility for “injuries obtained during lessons.” Kai accepts the forms and tells him to mingle. “The instructor is running a bit late.”
Cardigan man introduces himself as Do Kyungsoo, a petite fellow with wide eyes and full lips who is occupying his time by knitting. “I’m a home economics teacher; this relaxes me,” he explains, needles moving rhythmically and once again Kris feels like he might not be the only person here out of his depth.
A tall man bursts through the door a few minutes later, skidding to a stop in the middle of the room. “Am I late?” he inquires, relaxing visibly as several people shake their heads. He snaps his gum loudly, eyes scanning the room before fixing on Kris.
He strolls over and parks himself on the bench besides him, crossing his legs. “Huang Zitao, call me Tao,” he says, extending a hand. Kris shakes it and Kyungsoo nods at him over his knitting needles. Tao scans the room, ear piercings catching the light. “So where’s the teacher?”
“Running a bit late,” Kai says, making his way back over to them where he passes the forms to Tao to sign. “He’ll be here in ten.”
Tao gives him a flirtatious wink in response before turning his attention back to his bench mates. “So, why’d you two decide to sign up?”
Kyungsoo shrugs, needles clicking rhythmically. Kris can’t quite make out what the giant mass of red wool is supposed to be, a tent maybe or a yeti-sized snuggie. “Well, I used to do some stripping in my university days and figured this would be fun. Brush up on my stage skills.” He ignores their incredulous looks, nudging Kris slightly with his foot. “Hold my skein.”
Kris takes the wool and tries not to fidget as Tao turns to him. “So why are you here, big guy?”
“Well, my friend thought I needed to get out a bit more. I just, uh, went through a breakup and he thinks I need a change of pace.” He flinches as Tao lets out a sympathetic sound. “I don’t plan on staying though; I only agreed to come for today.”
“That’s a pity,” Tao snorts, shrugging off his leather jacket to reveal muscular, tanned arms. Kyungsoo lets out an appreciative whistle. “I’m doing this as part of research for my thesis. It’s about gender and self-expression and burlesque is a pretty interesting part of that. It’s considered by some to be a type of feminist answer to strip clubs--”
Kris tunes out the rest of Tao’s speech, scuffing his shoes against the polished wooden floor. He eyes the giant feathered fans of various sizes hung all along the walls, a shelf full of fedoras and a rack of what look like boas all in varying shades of pink. Everyone stops speaking as the door screeches open and a small, hooded figure runs inside, up to the front of the class. There’s a loud squeak as they slide to a sudden halt at the front of the room.
“Sorry I’m late everyone,” a husky voice speaks and the figure bows to everyone before pulling the hood off. A small round face topped by a shock of auburn hair with pale skin and almond eyes emerges. The man gives everyone a gummy smile. “Hi, my name is Kim Minseok and I’ll be teaching the men’s burlesque class.”
“He is hot,” Tao hisses not so subtly as he grips Kris’s arm tightly, Kyungsoo letting out an irritated huff as the movement jolts his needles. “Let’s go sit closer.”
Kris doesn’t move, staring ahead frozen as Tao bodily yanks him to his feet and hustles them forward. Kyungsoo stares at him strangely, probably wondering why he looks shell-shocked. In his defense, it’s not every day one runs into their childhood sweetheart at a burlesque class.
If you asked Kris to pick one thing to sum up his childhood, he’d say bad haircuts. A close second would be Kim Minseok.
Kim Minseok, or Kam Man Sek as he was known back in Guangzhou, met Kris when they were nine and ten respectively. Kris had been skulking around the local playground on a hot summer afternoon even though all the other children were napping and would only come out in the evening when the weather cooled. He kicked miserably at the ground as he sat on the swing, trying futilely to get off the ground but his legs were too long, only succeeding in kicking up clouds of dust that stung his eyes.
Kris had been the victim of early puberty and at age nine already stood at eye level with his mother. His appendages constantly ached with growing pains as his bones stretched and the other kids had taken to calling him Frankenstein because of his awkward movements with too-long limbs. The suckiest part in his opinion was the fact that he’d outgrown virtually all the playground equipment. He’d already tried going down the slide only to get stuck half way down and have to wriggle out of his shorts to free himself. He paces the perimeter of the playground, debating whether to head home before his mom comes to scold him for being out in the harsh weather.
He notices the monkey bars out of the corner of his eye. Standing around ten feet or so off the ground, they stand as a challenge to the under-twelve population of the town, the rusted metal looming menacingly over them as they play. Crossing the monkey bars is considered an ultimate feat and enough to earn you the adulation of the neighbourhood gang for life (or until the next person manages it). He’s not quite sure what he’s doing until he’s climbed up the side of the structure and tentatively reaching out to grip the bar.
The first three rungs are easy but his hand slips on the fourth rung and there’s one heart stopping moment when he feels himself fall before he manages to steady his grip. He makes the mistake of looking down and oh okay, the ground littered with sharp pebbles is very far away. He dangles there helplessly, too scared to continue forward, move back or jump down.
He’s hanging there for a few seconds waiting for his inevitable death to occur when he hears a high pitched voice call out to him. He looks down and sees the top of a head of brown hair. The girl, he presumes from the voice, calls out again. “Are you okay?”
Kris wants to answer in the affirmative but his arms are aching with the exertion of holding up his weight and he’s too close to crying so he merely shakes his head.
A pair of arms wrap around his calves and the girl calls up to him. “You can let go, I’ve got you.”
He stares down at her incredulously. “I’ll squash you!” The only response he gets is the girl tightening her arms and shaking his legs back and forth as if to hurry him up. He takes a deep breath and lets go.
As expected she can’t support his weight and they both go crashing down, Kris landing half on top of her. He takes a second to catch his breath and thank god for his survival before he rolls over and frantically checks on her. “Ah-mui mui, are you okay?”
The girl looks up at him and-- oh, not a girl at all but a slight, pixie-faced boy gives him a bright smile. “I’m okay.” He assures, brushing dust off his shirt as he sits up. He smacks Kris’s shoulder teasingly. “You’re heavy.”
“You’re tiny,” he rebuts and the boy scrunches his face up in confusion. Kris clears his throat and sticks a hand out. “Wu Yi Fan.”
The boy stares at him blankly before something clicks. “Oh, Kim Minseok. I mean,” he pauses before very carefully enunciating. “Kam Mansek.” He shakes Kris’s hand. “From Korea.”
Ah, that explains the stilted Cantonese. Kris stands up, wiping dust off the back of his shorts before extending a hand to Mansek. “Ice cream,” he enunciates slowly and the shorter boy’s eyes light up at the familiar English syllables. Kris points at himself. “Ah gor gor will buy.”
It’s over melting popsicles, with the sun beating down on their backs and sticky orange dribbling over their fingers that they have the first of many conversations, albeit one composed primarily of hand gestures, awkward Cantonese and the occasional English interjection. Kris finds out that Mansek is actually the older one in the relationship, that he’s due to start at the same school as him in fall and that Kris is the first person his age he’s spoken to since moving in two weeks ago.
By the time Kris’s mom comes looking for him, sky turning dark and mosquitoes out in full force, the two have already declared an inseparable lifelong brotherhood over a mutual love of Power Rangers. Mansek bows politely to Kris’s mother before taking off towards his own house, waving excitedly as he leaves and Kris returns the gesture, feeling a little less alone than before.
***
Minseok has always been a good speaker and the years seem to have enhanced that ability. He’s equal parts charming, funny and warm as he introduces himself and directs them all to be seated in a circle as he outlines the lesson plan for them.
“So,” he begins, placing his hands on his hips as he appraises them with a teasing grin. Kris tries to shrink further into the shelf he’s sitting beside. “How many of you are here because of the movie with Cher and Christina?”
There’s a smattering of laughter and several people raise their hands good-naturedly. Kris refrains, even though he vaguely recalls watching the movie drunkenly on pay-per-view that fateful night at Luhan’s before signing up online. He blames the sequins for that decision. And Christina’s high notes. Those were definitely brain-addling. Minseok lets the laughter abate before clapping his hands.
“Well, whatever reason you have for being here, I’m glad you decided to give it a try. Burlesque is a great art form for those who want to feel more confident, enjoy performing on stage, or just want an excuse to wear gold lamé leotards.” He gives them a cheeky grin. “Anyone can be a performer, regardless of age, body type or athletic ability. And even though it’s a primarily female-dominated art, male burlesque troupes, or boylesque as we call it, are continuously growing. You guys are Black Pearl’s third all-male class.”
He lets the small smattering of applause die out before nodding towards Kai. “Kai, who you’ve all met, is my co-teacher who specializes in jazz dance and stripping.” Cue loud hooting from the audience and Kai obligingly does a shimmy. “He’ll be helping me out with the basic teaching and later, depending on what performance area you choose to do for your solo stage, he or I will be guiding you.”
Tao’s arm shoots up in the air from beside Kris and he flinches, pulling his hood over his head. “What do you mean solo stages?” Tao asks.
Minseok gasps and presses his fingers to his mouth, gesture simultaneously innocent and flirtatious. “Oops. I got a bit ahead of myself. At the end of these two months, we usually hold a small showcase which our students perform at. You guys will develop routines with us beforehand, either solo or in groups or pairs.” Nervous whispers break out through the room and Minseok claps his hands again, drawing their attention back. “Note that participation is completely voluntary. But we’ve got a long way to go before we get to solos. Everybody up!”
There’s loud shuffling as people stand, Kai getting them to stand spaced out in rows. Minseok is fiddling with a stereo in the corner of the room, hoodie removed to revealed smooth, muscled arms and a nipped-in waist. Kris refuses Tao’s attempts to head to the front and instead lines up in the back row with Kyungsoo, still trying to remain incognito. Minseok and Kai move to the front of the room and Kai flicks on the stereo. A loud bass beat fills the room and the two instructors lead them into a stretching routine. Kris feels his muscles ache in protest as he attempts to bend them in ways they clearly disagree with, noting enviously the ease with which Tao and Kyungsoo go through the moves. After stretches, it’s a gruelling ten minutes of cardio before they’re allowed to ease back into stretches for the cool down. Barely twenty minutes into the two hour class and Kris is already ready to call it quits and drag his aching body home for a bubble bath. He longingly eyes the rack full of boas, wondering whether they’d make good pillows.
Almost as if he’s guessed Kris’s thoughts, Minseok tells them all to grab a boa once the water break has ended. Kris retrieves one that isn’t too moth-eaten, although the lurid neon shade leaves a lot to be desired. He drapes it over his shoulders awkwardly, knowing he looks weird as fuck in his sweat-soaked clothes with his hood still up. He can see Minseok staring at him out of the corner of his eye and he ducks his head down, trying to make all six-feet-four of himself inconspicuous.
Those plans go down the shitter when Tao flounces up to him, pink boa wrapped around his head in a poor approximation of a turban while a stoic Kyungsoo follows, his own knotted around his hips like a skirt. Kris mentally face-palms.
“So, how’re you finding it so far?” Tao asks while bending over, presumably to stretch but Kris has a feeling it’s more to benefit Kai with a view of his (admittedly well-sculpted) ass in tight sweatpants. “Personally, I think warm up should’ve been longer. I don’t feel quite limber enough yet.” He drops smoothly into a split that has Kris’s thigh muscles screaming just from the sight.
Kyungsoo is non-plussed, giving Tao a light kick in the rear. “More like you wanted to spend another ten minutes watching Kai’s dick bounce around in his shorts.”
Tao lets out a mock gasp, rolling over onto his back. “I would never!” he exclaims, clasping his hands to chest empathically. “Although, seriously, dude needs to wear some briefs. I’m worried he’ll pull a nut or something.”
“Your concern for my balls is duly noted.” They hear an amused voice reply as Kai grins, gesturing for them to get back into their rows. Tao has turned a bright shade of red that clashes horribly with his boa and he ducks behind Kris as a laughing Kai makes his way to the front of the room. Minseok turns the stereo on again and this time a sultry jazz beat plays from the speakers.
“Right,” Minseok says, twirling the end of his boa in small circles. “One of the core elements of burlesque performances is the art of the tease. Burlesque never aims to gratify completely, the aim is to have your audience on the edge of their seat with anticipation for your next move. So you have to make those moves count.” Minseok slowly teases his fingers along the edge of the boa, letting them come to a stop at his hips.
“Gestures will of course vary depending on your style, if you choose to do a Vaudeville-style routine your gestures will probably be more emphatic.” Minseok does a sharp twirl, boa a pink blur around him before coming to a sudden stop, hands around his face, eyes wide and, well, empathetic. “Whereas if you go for a more seductive routine, your gestures may be more subtle.” He takes the boa and runs his hands over it, slowly sliding it down his shoulders in a slow, practiced gesture, a complete 180 from his earlier playfulness. The sudden switch is mesmerizing and Kris is ninety percent sure he’s not the only one holding his breath as he follows the fabric’s path down his body.
Minseok snaps his fingers suddenly, drawing their attention back. “Eyes up here, gentlemen. In addition to gestures, there’s a series of poses that are a staple in burlesque. There are about twelve classic pin-up poses you’ll learn in the next class, since most involve a chair. Kai’s going to be leading you through a simple step routine now. Focus mainly on executing movements; in later classes we’ll work on expression and musicality and try out routines with the fans. I’ll be going around to observe and meet with all of you and just get a feel for your individual styles.” He nods towards Kai who begins demonstrating the moves as Minseok moves to introduce himself to a student in the front row.
The routine Kai is demonstrating is fairly easy and normally even Kris’s rhythmically-challenged self would be able to pick it up, but he’s too busy fretting as he watches Minseok make his way down the rows out of the corner of his eye. He stumbles on the spin, nearly braining Tao with his awkward flailing. He gets banished even further back, morosely following along to the moves, the experience firmly cementing his desire not to return.
He’s in the midst of this struggle when he feels small fingers wrap around his wrist. “May I?” Minseok asks, leading him slightly to the left. He puts his hand on the small of Kris’ back, gently applying pressure. “Your posture is too slouched; it’s ruining your bodyline.” Kris straightens his back accordingly and Minseok nods in approval. “Okay, now do the first bit of the routine again.”
He complies, eyes locked onto the floor the entire time but Minseok kindly doesn’t call him out on it.
“You’re moving too fast through some of the slower moves, it’s ruining the effect. See,” he places a hand at his collarbone level and moves it down slowly. Kris follows the movement with a dry mouth, noting the way Minseok’s fingers linger on the space between his thighs before he brings his hands back up to chest level, turning on his heel to face Kris. “That move is meant to be teasing; you’re drawing the audience’s attention to your body, having them follow it downwards then pulling away when you get to where they want you the most.” He laughs as Kris flushes. “Cute. Okay, so let’s try it again, slower this time. You’ve got a long torso, use that to your advantage.”
He puts his band back on his collarbone and Kris imitates him. They do the move together and Kris can see the difference the change in execution makes, the movement looking less sloppy than before. He’s still a far cry from displaying the same seductive ease as his instructor but one must learn to crawl before they can body roll, he guesses. Minseok smiles at him, and it’s disconcerting how new yet familiar that gummy grin is. “You have potential. With that height maybe we could try getting you to do a chair routine.”
Kris clears his throat. “As long as it doesn’t involve much flexibility.” His voice comes out high pitched and he mentally scolds his voice box for failing him.
Minseok doesn’t seem to notice, extending his hand. “Well, who knows. Maybe you’ll build up a bit more stretch by the end of this…” He pauses and oh, he wants Kris to introduce himself.
He considers whether to introduce himself as Yi Fan, wants to see whether it’ll draw some recognition but as per his nature, he chickens out. “Kris Wu” he says, shaking Minseok’s hand as they briefly make eye contact. There’s nothing in his expression to indicate that he’s recognized Kris and he wonders why he’s slightly upset by that considering he’s been trying to hide from the man for the better part of the lesson.
Minseok nods. “I hope we’ll work together well, Kris.” Before moving down the line to speak with Tao who has somehow improvised the simple four-step sequence into including a death drop.
Kris is surprised when Kai shuts the music off and Minseok thanks them all for coming. The two hours have passed by quite quickly. His muscles ache as he makes his way to the door with the rest of the students, dropping his boa in a pile by the door. He drags his feet to the parking lot where Luhan is waiting, singing along loudly to the radio, uncaring of people who are staring. Feeling a lot like a high schooler being picked up by an embarrassing parent, he knocks on the car window, gesturing for the other man to let him in.
“Well?” Luhan’s face looks like it’s going to split in half from the stretch of his smile. “Did you have fun? Did you make any friends?”
“It was okay.” He kicks his shoes off, propping his feet up on the dashboard despite Luhan’s protests. “There were some interesting people there. Not the kind of crowd you’d expect to see at an all men’s burlesque class to be honest.”
Luhan hums, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, have you decided on whether you’ll go back?”
Kris fiddles with the drawstring on his sweatpants, pulling it taut. A part of him wants to stick to his guns and never step foot into the studio room again, another part is drawn to the music and the dancing and just maybe, maybe, the instructor. It may be a testament to how the burlesque class is already changing him that he actually indulges the smaller part of him that wants to stay. “There’s another class this week. I think I’ll go and decide after that.”
He sees Luhan duck his head down, trying to hide a smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Let’s go get pizza to celebrate you shitting that stick up your ass a few inches out your colon.” He mimes wiping away a tear. “I’m so proud.”
It’s probably highly discouraged to pull a person’s ears while driving but revenge is best served fresh-- especially to annoying, little deer men, car accidents be damned.
***
He’s distracted all the next day at work, nearly upending his coffee on a stack of paperwork when his secretary pages him. He opts for an early lunch, heading out to a small café near his building, blending right in with the rest of the harried corporate drones.
He scrolls through his phone while waiting for his order, absentmindedly checking the stock market reports. On impulse he googles “Kim Minseok” and has to scroll through several pages of info about some actor and a table tennis player till he comes across an English article about burlesque clubs in France. He clicks and is greeted by a picture of Minseok suspended in midair between two large swathes of fabric, body curved backwards. The caption identifies him as “aerialist Kim Minseok mid-routine.”
Kris focuses on Minseok’s face, zooming in for a better look. There’s strain on there but it’s obvious from the upward tilt of his mouth that Minseok is in his element. He scrolls through the slideshow, marvelling at the strength and flexibility on display as Minseok contorts his body into increasingly more ridiculous positions. He hurriedly closes the tab when he notices he’s zoomed in on Minseok’s pale thighs.
Looking around he notices the café is full of young couples, all in various states of puppy-eyed adoration and he winces, focusing on the salad in front of him, stabbing a piece of crab with more force than is probably necessary. The pair at the table nearest to him coo at each other and he resists the urge to chuck the salt shaker at the back of their heads, especially when he sees the male’s large ears.
It’s been three weeks since Chanyeol walked out and Kris is still waiting for it to get easier. Little things keep getting to him, couples at a restaurant or finding one of Chanyeol’s sweaters in the back of his closet. It’s weird waking up with one side of the bed cold, all the takeout menus stacked neatly in the kitchen instead of splayed out over the coffee table like when Chanyeol was deliberating on what to order. An irrational part of him holds on to the hope that Chanyeol will come back, that he’ll come home one day to find a lanky body in his bed, giving him a wide-toothed smile.
“Well, you dated the guy for what, five years?” Luhan appraises him critically over the rim of his coffee cup, leaning against Kris’s filing cabinet. “I’d honestly be more concerned if you weren’t upset.”
“But it sucks.” Kris thunks his head repeatedly against the polished oak surface of his desk, narrowly avoiding stabbing himself in the eye with a fountain pen. “When does it stop sucking?”
“How would I know, I’ve never been dumped.” Luhan catches his head before it makes contact with the desk again. “Hey, don’t you have burlesque again today?”
“Boylesque,” Kris corrects although he’s not sure why. “Yeah, I’m heading there after work.”
“Hmm.” Luhan smirks at him over the rim of his cup. “So when do we get to go shopping for fishnets? I think La Senza’s having a sale.”
Kris uses the fountain pen to stab Luhan’s ass, sending the elder off his desk with a yelp. “There will be no fishnets. I told you, this is my second trial class. I probably won’t continue with it.”
“Right,” Luhan drawls. “Do you need a ride to the center?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Kris waves at file at Luhan. “Now go run this up to finance.”
“Slave driver.” Luhan pouts at him before taking the file and leaving the office.
Kris loses himself in the monotony of his work, poring over the new product details, frowning at the below average sales figures for their newest release. He can already tell he’ll be pulling overtime to come up with a new marketing campaign before the quarterly reports are due.
He’s so immersed in his work that it isn’t until he squinting to read his notes in the dimming light that he notices the sun has set. He considers staying behind to finish up-- it’s not like there’s anyone waiting for him at home-- but the appeal of seeing Minseok again makes him drag his weary self down to the elevators and into the parking lot.
He changes out of his suit in the car, pulling on dark sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, carelessly shoving his dress clothes in the gym bag. The ride to the dance center is short and inside, he finds his way to the room easily. Tao is already present, doing a backbend in the corner, shirt riding halfway up his chest. He waves at Kris from his position before smoothly pulling out of it.
“Hiya Big K.” He drapes an arm over Kris’ shoulders. “How’s life?”
“Don’t call me that.” Kris shrugs him off. “Life is busy.”
“Ah, you big white-collar men, you always sweat the small stuff.” Tao tsks. “You should take up yoga, helps relax the mind.”
“I’ll pass,” Kris says, eyes scanning the room. Minseok is here early today and is conversing with some students near the stripper pole. His laugh rings out around the room and Kris wants in on the joke. He blinks when he sees a small hand waving in front of his face. “Wha-- oh hi Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo gives him a nod from where he’s seated on the floor besides Tao, needles clicking together. He’s dressed far more casually than last time, in basketball shorts and a tee (although he kept the cardigan).
The hum of noise in the room grows until Minseok claps his hands and calls for everyone to stand up for stretches. Kris fares slightly better this time around, though his back lets out a hideous cracking sound that has every pair of eyes in the room swivelling towards him. Once the stretching is done, Minseok instructs them all to grab chairs and line them up in rows.
“Okay, in the last class, you guys learned a simple dance routine. We’ll be expanding on that today by adding the chairs into it.” He sits on the chair, crossing one leg over the other and the students follow suit. “Chairs and other pieces of furniture can be very useful props for routines, whether as support during the dance routine or to aid with the teasing. First thing you should do is make sure your chair is sturdy. Everyone stand on them.”
Everyone follows suit, Kris wobbling dangerously on his as the wood groans in protest but thankfully doesn’t send him crashing to the floor. They dismount.
“Okay, that was a joke but seriously, make sure your furniture is reinforced. Once during my club days in Berlin, I saw a dancer fall through a prop table. Splinters are no fun when you’re wearing that little clothing.” He takes the remote and turns the stereo on, the same jazz beat from the last class filtering through the speakers. “Let’s run through the routine once before we incorporate the chairs.”
He leads them through the same routine and Kris follows along well enough. Then Minseok demonstrates the pin-up moves: legs crossed on the chair while leaning forward with a hand propped on his chin, kneeling on the ground with his head resting against the seat, standing with leg one propped up and a variety of others. He next shows them how to use the chair to do the moves, how it’s a good support for plank moves or kicks.
They’re fairly easy, thank god. There are a few mishaps-- with one student accidentally pushing his chair too hard during a spin and falling face-first onto the floor-- but overall it’s mostly a success, and after an hour of repeated run-throughs they have the barebones of a routine set out. Then Minseok drops a bomb on them.
“Okay, individual work time.” Minseok claps his hands. “Everyone is going to come up and perform the routine but I want you to add four of your own steps at the end. It’ll be a good chance to show off some individuality. Kai and I will be coming around to help out so don’t feel too panicked. Feel free to use the boas as props.”
Everyone breaks up and splits into small groups or solo pairs in different parts of the room. Kris tries to sneak off to the bathrooms to hide for the next forty minutes or so but Tao intercepts him and drags him towards a knowing-looking Kyungsoo.
It becomes exceedingly obvious to Kris that he is hopelessly out of his depth dance-wise. His first few attempts at creating his own dance steps are either too difficult for him to execute or “look like they belong in a kindergarten recital, not burlesque.” Tao throws his hands up after Kris’s sixth try at unsuccessfully doing a spin onto the chair. “Just do what you want, Kris.”
He’s trying to do a backwards plank on the chair, feet propped up on its back when he hears a small laugh. From his upside down angle, he sees a face hovering above his and lets out a squeak, dropping to the floor. Minseok extends a hand to him. “Need help?”
“Please,” Kris responds, accepting the hand. Minseok’s palm is callused under his and he pulls Kris up with ease, despite the height difference. Minseok indicates for him to pull the chair over to another corner while he retrieves one for himself. “Okay, show me what you have so far.”
Kris awkwardly demonstrates what little he and Tao had been able to come up with, hitting his ankle hard on the chair leg during the last move. Minseok winces but doesn't say anything till the music stops. “Okay, the first two parts show potential. Show me those again.”
Kris complies, doing the first move which involves him propping one foot up on the chair and bending down slowly. From here, he transitions to the second move which has him spinning to sit in the chair, leg crossed demurely over one knee as he faces the front. Minseok nods, and pulls his own chair over, turning it so he’s sitting face to face with him.
“Okay, the first two moves are good, you just need to be careful with your leg during the spin outwards; you don’t want to end up spraining a knee.” He sits, copying Kris’ pose. “I like this bit, with the whole sexy to ladylike transition.” He presses play and the small speakers start repeating the song.
“Okay right after this part, the music goes into the trumpet crescendo. At that part, you should do this move.” He suddenly spread his legs wide open, hand on either knee. Kris chokes on air at the sudden display of white cotton clad crotch in front of him, which Minseok doesn’t seem to notice. “Right after that, really fast, close your legs, swivel to the left and kick upwards.” He demonstrates. “Then to end with the music, just bring it down slowly and get into your finishing pose.” He frowns slightly. “Pity we aren’t using the fans yet, they’d be great for this.”
He leads Kris through the steps, laughing when the elder is shy about spreading his legs. “We’re all men here, Kris,” he teases, pushing his legs further open, warm heat of his hands bleeding through the fabric of Kris’s sweatpants and making his skin break out in goosebumps. Minseok withdraws his hands quickly. “I’m sorry, was that too forward? I can get a bit touchy sometimes and I forget not everyone’s comfortable with it.”
Kris shakes his head, discomfitted by Minseok’s apologetic expression. “No, it’s okay.” He suddenly executes the move, spreading his legs as far as they can go before snapping them shut again and Minseok laughs.
“There you go. Now for the next part.” Kris clumsily swivels and does the kick and Minseok tsks. “Point your toes, Kris; you want to elongate your legs. We discussed this last time too.” He places his hand on Kris’ calf, gently extending his leg upward and Kris point his toes obediently. “I swear, people like you who’ve stolen all the world’s height and don’t know how to use it.”
Minseok’s tone is playful and Kris has a sudden feeling of deja vu to Minseok saying something similar to him back in ninth grade when Kris had already hit six feet and Minseok was still clinging to somewhere near five-foot five. He grins up at Minseok. “Jealous much?”
Minseok scoffs, pushing his leg down. “Get back to practising, big man. Performances start in five minutes.”
True to his word, five minutes later, they’re all called to form a circle and a chair is set up in the center of the room. Minseok asks if anyone will volunteer to go first and Kyungsoo steps up.
Kyungsoo sets the bar high through a mixture of flexibility and obscene use of his cardigan, and several other students perform after him. Kris is gratified to see that he’s not the only one in the class with less than stellar dance moves and feels a bit less self conscious about performing.
Until Tao goes on. The bastard pulls out all the stops, doing a backflip for his finale which ends with him pulling his shirt off to reveal toned abs. The classroom bursts into raucous hoots and it takes a laughing Minseok a full minute to quiet them down as a shirtless Tao saunters back to the side, winking at Kai as he does. Minseok scans the remaining students thoughtfully, eyes lighting up when he sees Kris. Kris brings his palms together in a pleading gesture but Minseok shakes his head, pointing to him. “Come on out, Kris.”
There’s a small smattering of applause as he heads to the chair, wiping his palms nervously on his jeans. He gets into the opening position and waits for the music to begin. The first part of the routine is easy and he only stumbles once. It’s when his solo bit is coming up that he begins to get nervous, wondering if he can improvise another move instead of the spread legs. He does the bend and spins onto the chair, locking eyes with Minseok in front of him.
There’s a challenge in the other man’s eyes and Kris think “fuck it” and does the move, legs spreading wide except he improvises and brings his hands down over his crotch at the same time. It’s a quick transition to the kick and then it’s his ending pose, music filtering away.
There are cheers and Tao lets out a wolf whistle. Minseok gives him an approving smile, face scrunched up in his mirth. “Well done, Kris. Liked the spontaneity.” He mimics the crotch covering, laughing as Kris flushes and runs off to the side, burying his face in his t-shirt. “Okay, next.”
Tao throws an arm around his neck. “Never thought you’d be the kind of guy to spread your legs in the second class, Big K.” He ducks from Kris’s punch before turning back to watch the others perform. Once performances end, Minseok has them all gather their things. “That’s it for today, gentlemen. Next week, we’ll be starting routines with the fans,” he gestures to the ones hung on the wall, “so make sure to be here. But before that, I’m assigning you all a little homework.”
A chorus of groans greets him and he shushes them. “Oh quit whining, this will be fun. As part of your burlesque training, you’ll be creating a new persona for yourself, one for you to bring out on stage. Your very own Sasha Fierce if you will. You’ll develop that persona as we go along but the first step is to pick your burlesque name. It can be anything, although names with puns or innuendos are popular.”
“What’s yours?” a student calls out.
Minseok juts one hip out, hand perched on it. “Minx,” he purrs, voice exaggeratedly breathy. “And Kai’s is Kaibaret. So get creative, you have the whole week to come up with ideas!”
He dismisses them and people begin to file out, calling out goodbyes as they do. Kyungsoo taps Kris on the shoulder. “Hey, wanna grab dinner together?” He gestures towards Tao who’s in the midst of not-so-subtly flirting with Kai. “He’ll probably need some drinks to deal with that unrequited thirst.”
Kris considers it; it’s been a long day and he’s tired but it’s been a while since he’s been out and he’s got a craving for bulgogi . Besides, it’s a weekend. “Sure. We can take my car if you want.”
“Great, I’ll tell Romeo over there and we’ll head out. Just let me change first.” Kris nods as Kyungsoo yanks Tao away from his object of interest and fills him in, before heading to the bathrooms to change.
Tao sighs at Kai’s departing back before turning to Kris. “Aren’t you going to change?”
“The only clothes I have are my work stuff.” Which are probably wrinkled beyond saving at the bottom of his bag.
Tao rifles through his own canvas tote, tossing a small swath of fabric at him. “Here, I have an extra. Oh look, Kai left his water bottle behind!” Tao grabs the object, skidding out the door presumably to catch up with their instructor.
Kris stands there awkwardly before deciding to change quickly since the room is empty. He’s struggling with getting his head through the opening, arms tangled up in the sleeves, when he feels someone tug the bottom of the shirt down, guiding his head through. He emerges, hair mussed to see Minseok’s face very close to his own and lets out a startled squeak.
Minseok laughs, reaching over to fix his hair. “You are ridiculously adorable sometimes, whether you intend to be or not.” He withdraws his fingers from Kris’s hair. “Sorry, was I being too touchy again?”
“Nah.” Kris stands still as Minseok adjusts the strands, taking advantage of the angle to stare at him. It’s strikes him once again how comfortingly familiar Minseok’s face is, the small birthmark under his left ear, the scar through one of his eyebrows from the time Kris had accidentally nailed him with a tennis racket. There are changes there too, his face having lost the plump roundness of his younger days and his overbite has been corrected. He finds he misses Minseok’s bunny teeth that were a constant source of playful teasing.
He’s too absorbed in inspecting that he doesn’t realise Minseok has long since stopped fixing his hair and is staring back at him. He jerks back, startled when the elder speaks. “Did you by any chance attend SNU? Class of 2009?”
“Huh? Oh no, I was an exchange student at Yonsei.” Kris ducks his head, as Minseok stares at him intently, a small furrow appearing on his forehead.
“I swear, you look so familiar, it’s eerie.” He squints, tilting his head. “Were you ever at any of my shows?”
“No, this class is my first foray into the burlesque world.” Kris wonders if asking Minseok where his shows are held is too forward.
The smaller man shakes his head with a sigh. “This is going to bother me for the rest of the night, I swear. Well, good night Kris, drive safe.” He pats him on the shoulder and exits the classroom.
Once he leaves, Kyungsoo sticks his head out of the small change room in the back. “Are you two done having your little moment? Because there’s a cockroach in there the size of your hand and I’m this close to setting it on fire.”
Kris jumps at the sudden entrance. “We weren’t-- it wasn’t what it looked like-- cockroach?”
Kyungsoo snorts. “Stick to your body for seduction tactics, Big K; your eloquence leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Why is everyone calling me that?” Kris grumbles as he follows Kyungsoo out the door.
***
next →
Recipient: haoxihuanni
Pairing(s): Kris/Minseok, Minseok/Chen, broken!Kris/Chanyeol
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Cross-dressing, references to sexual activity, referenced homophobia.
Word count: 30,834
Summary: It's not everyday you run into your childhood sweetheart at Burlesque class.
Kris shifts uncomfortably in the front seat of Luhan’s car, hands tapping a frenzied rhythm onto his thigh. His eyes dart around rapidly and he tries to calculate whether it would be plausible for him to unbuckle and jump out at the next traffic signal without Luhan noticing. The older boy can apparently read minds as he fixes him with a stern look. “I’ve got the child safety locks on, don’t even think about it.”
Kris frowns, folding his arms petulantly. “This is stupid,” he mutters, kicking the gym bag at his feet.
Luhan smiles beatifically. “But it was your own idea.”
“I was drunk!” he protests, stomach knotted in fear as they pull up outside the Black Pearl Dance Studios. “I wouldn’t have signed up for a… class otherwise.”
“Burlesque,” Luhan says, unbuckling his seat belt and exiting the car. Kris tries to follow suit but the door remains stubbornly locked. Luhan opens it from outside and sticks his head in. “You signed up for a burlesque class. Really Kris, if you can’t even say it, how are you going to do it?”
“I don’t want to do it,” he snaps, pushing the elder out of the way as he steps out. Luhan retrieves the gym bag, slinging it over one shoulder before linking arms with Kris.
“Well, you know what they say about things we do while drunk are manifestations of our inner desires or some shit.” He smirks as he proceeds to drag Kris towards the entrance. “Maybe your latent love for nipple pasties and body glitter is finally coming to light.”
Kris tries to drag his feet but Luhan is packing a lot of strength in that petite body and the shorter man easily yanks him until they’re inside the building, the smell of sweat and wood polish assaulting their nostrils. Luhan pulls them through dimly lit corridors, squinting at the doors. “Look for room seven, that’s where the class is being held.”
The room is located at the end of the hall. Through the small window in the door, Kris can spot a small group of people huddled around and his stomach lurches.“Luhan, I seriously don’t think I can do this.” he begs, trying to back away from the door.
Luhan sighs, tugging him down on a bench by the wall. “Can’t or are too scared to try?” He tips Kris’s chin up. “Kris, when was the last time you tried something new? Went out of your comfort zone even a little bit?”
Kris shifts, uneasy with the scrutiny. “I like routine, Lu. You know that.”
Luhan scoffs. “There’s routine and there’s ruts. You’re stuck in the latter.”
There’s a dull ache in Kris’s chest as he recalls those same words being said to him a week ago by the person the most important to him.
He watches Chanyeol pack his things, gut clenching each time he tosses another article into his suitcase. “Yeol, love, please don’t do this.” He’s not even bothering to hide the desperation in his tone and he sees Chanyeol wince momentarily before schooling his features back into the steely expression he’s been wearing for the past hour. Kris hates it, it looks unnatural on Chanyeol’s face and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off, to bring back the megawatt smile he’d fallen in love with more than three years ago. “Yeol,” he whispers and Chanyeol sighs loudly, packing his shirts into the suitcase with more force than probably necessary.
“We talked about this already,” he says, still refusing to meet Kris’s eyes. “I just think we’re at a place in our lives where we both want different things.” It’s a rehearsed speech, delivered in monotone and Kris balls up his fists, fighting back his irritation.
“Really? Because I was fine with things the way they ar--were Chanyeol. I never wanted anything more than you.”
Chanyeol rearranges his snapback, eyes screwed up in frustration. “That’s the problem Kris.” He folds a sweater and viciously shoves it in. “You never want anything more. You’re just so set in the way things are that you refuse to see what else might be out there.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re boring, Kris!” Chanyeol yells, voice echoing around the room. He takes a deep breath before locking eyes with the elder. “When we met you were so exciting, so full of life, spontaneous. I fell in love with that.” His voice wavers slightly and Kris wants to go over and pull him to his chest, nuzzle into that soft red hair but he doesn’t because he knows Chanyeol will pull away and he can’t handle that.
“You- you refuse to deviate even a little bit from routine. Every time I try to get you to do something, go out somewhere new with me, I get shut down. It- it makes me feel like shit, okay?!” Chanyeol is yelling now, deep voice echoing around the room and Kris is frozen.
“Tell me Kris, when was the last time we went out on a date? The last time you surprised me? The last time you came home from work before ten? The last time we had sex in a position other than missionary? Fuck, try to remember the last time we had sex.” Every sentence is punctuated with a thud as Chanyeol shoves more items into the case, not even bothering with folding anymore. “I can’t take anymore of this, Kris. You’re sucking all the joy and spontaneity out of me.” He shuts the suitcase with a snap, the locks clicking into place. He pulls it off the bed, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry but I deserve better than this. You deserve to live better than this.”
He’s out of the bedroom and down the corridor before Kris moves. He grabs Chanyeol’s arm as he stands with his hand on the front door. He wraps his arms around his waist pulling Chanyeol’s body to his chest.
“What do you want me to do, Chanyeol? I’ll try if you want me to. I don- please don’t leave.” He hears more than feels Chanyeol drawing away and the younger presses a soft kiss to his temple.
“Pull yourself out of this rut, Kris. You owe yourself that much.”
He stands there long after the door has closed softly, eyes blankly staring at the wall as he wonders how he’s going to make this apartment feel less empty now.
Luhan tugs on his hair gently, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Kris, I’m not going to force you into doing this. You’re a grown man and you can make your own decisions. But I really think you’ll regret it if you don’t even give it a chance.” He taps him on the chin. “Just one class.”
Kris sighs. “Just one class.” He agrees, standing slowly. He takes his gym bag from Luhan and slowly trudges towards room seven, swallowing hard as he turns the doorknob. He hears Luhan whisper, “Jiayo, Kris!” behind him as he enters.
The dance room is open and airy with floor to ceiling mirrors on three of the walls, the oak floor smooth and polished. There’s a stripper pole installed in the center of the room and Kris eyes it warily as he enters. There are already a dozen or so people in the room and a man with tan skin and the most gorgeous cheekbones Kris has ever seen calls out to him.
“Hi there, are you here for Beginners Burlesque?” At Kris’s nervous nod he smiles and waves cheerily. “Just take a seat anywhere; I’ll need you to fill out some forms.”
Kris sits down on one of the low wooden benches set up at the back of the room, taking the opportunity to scan the rest of the people in the class. It’s an odd mix, the people ranging from fresh-faced kids who look like college students to those dressed in stiff business attire who look as out of place as he feels. The man beside him is wearing a cardigan for chrissake.
Kai returns and has Kris sign a bunch of forms, including an ominous sounding waiver absolving the dance company of any responsibility for “injuries obtained during lessons.” Kai accepts the forms and tells him to mingle. “The instructor is running a bit late.”
Cardigan man introduces himself as Do Kyungsoo, a petite fellow with wide eyes and full lips who is occupying his time by knitting. “I’m a home economics teacher; this relaxes me,” he explains, needles moving rhythmically and once again Kris feels like he might not be the only person here out of his depth.
A tall man bursts through the door a few minutes later, skidding to a stop in the middle of the room. “Am I late?” he inquires, relaxing visibly as several people shake their heads. He snaps his gum loudly, eyes scanning the room before fixing on Kris.
He strolls over and parks himself on the bench besides him, crossing his legs. “Huang Zitao, call me Tao,” he says, extending a hand. Kris shakes it and Kyungsoo nods at him over his knitting needles. Tao scans the room, ear piercings catching the light. “So where’s the teacher?”
“Running a bit late,” Kai says, making his way back over to them where he passes the forms to Tao to sign. “He’ll be here in ten.”
Tao gives him a flirtatious wink in response before turning his attention back to his bench mates. “So, why’d you two decide to sign up?”
Kyungsoo shrugs, needles clicking rhythmically. Kris can’t quite make out what the giant mass of red wool is supposed to be, a tent maybe or a yeti-sized snuggie. “Well, I used to do some stripping in my university days and figured this would be fun. Brush up on my stage skills.” He ignores their incredulous looks, nudging Kris slightly with his foot. “Hold my skein.”
Kris takes the wool and tries not to fidget as Tao turns to him. “So why are you here, big guy?”
“Well, my friend thought I needed to get out a bit more. I just, uh, went through a breakup and he thinks I need a change of pace.” He flinches as Tao lets out a sympathetic sound. “I don’t plan on staying though; I only agreed to come for today.”
“That’s a pity,” Tao snorts, shrugging off his leather jacket to reveal muscular, tanned arms. Kyungsoo lets out an appreciative whistle. “I’m doing this as part of research for my thesis. It’s about gender and self-expression and burlesque is a pretty interesting part of that. It’s considered by some to be a type of feminist answer to strip clubs--”
Kris tunes out the rest of Tao’s speech, scuffing his shoes against the polished wooden floor. He eyes the giant feathered fans of various sizes hung all along the walls, a shelf full of fedoras and a rack of what look like boas all in varying shades of pink. Everyone stops speaking as the door screeches open and a small, hooded figure runs inside, up to the front of the class. There’s a loud squeak as they slide to a sudden halt at the front of the room.
“Sorry I’m late everyone,” a husky voice speaks and the figure bows to everyone before pulling the hood off. A small round face topped by a shock of auburn hair with pale skin and almond eyes emerges. The man gives everyone a gummy smile. “Hi, my name is Kim Minseok and I’ll be teaching the men’s burlesque class.”
“He is hot,” Tao hisses not so subtly as he grips Kris’s arm tightly, Kyungsoo letting out an irritated huff as the movement jolts his needles. “Let’s go sit closer.”
Kris doesn’t move, staring ahead frozen as Tao bodily yanks him to his feet and hustles them forward. Kyungsoo stares at him strangely, probably wondering why he looks shell-shocked. In his defense, it’s not every day one runs into their childhood sweetheart at a burlesque class.
If you asked Kris to pick one thing to sum up his childhood, he’d say bad haircuts. A close second would be Kim Minseok.
Kim Minseok, or Kam Man Sek as he was known back in Guangzhou, met Kris when they were nine and ten respectively. Kris had been skulking around the local playground on a hot summer afternoon even though all the other children were napping and would only come out in the evening when the weather cooled. He kicked miserably at the ground as he sat on the swing, trying futilely to get off the ground but his legs were too long, only succeeding in kicking up clouds of dust that stung his eyes.
Kris had been the victim of early puberty and at age nine already stood at eye level with his mother. His appendages constantly ached with growing pains as his bones stretched and the other kids had taken to calling him Frankenstein because of his awkward movements with too-long limbs. The suckiest part in his opinion was the fact that he’d outgrown virtually all the playground equipment. He’d already tried going down the slide only to get stuck half way down and have to wriggle out of his shorts to free himself. He paces the perimeter of the playground, debating whether to head home before his mom comes to scold him for being out in the harsh weather.
He notices the monkey bars out of the corner of his eye. Standing around ten feet or so off the ground, they stand as a challenge to the under-twelve population of the town, the rusted metal looming menacingly over them as they play. Crossing the monkey bars is considered an ultimate feat and enough to earn you the adulation of the neighbourhood gang for life (or until the next person manages it). He’s not quite sure what he’s doing until he’s climbed up the side of the structure and tentatively reaching out to grip the bar.
The first three rungs are easy but his hand slips on the fourth rung and there’s one heart stopping moment when he feels himself fall before he manages to steady his grip. He makes the mistake of looking down and oh okay, the ground littered with sharp pebbles is very far away. He dangles there helplessly, too scared to continue forward, move back or jump down.
He’s hanging there for a few seconds waiting for his inevitable death to occur when he hears a high pitched voice call out to him. He looks down and sees the top of a head of brown hair. The girl, he presumes from the voice, calls out again. “Are you okay?”
Kris wants to answer in the affirmative but his arms are aching with the exertion of holding up his weight and he’s too close to crying so he merely shakes his head.
A pair of arms wrap around his calves and the girl calls up to him. “You can let go, I’ve got you.”
He stares down at her incredulously. “I’ll squash you!” The only response he gets is the girl tightening her arms and shaking his legs back and forth as if to hurry him up. He takes a deep breath and lets go.
As expected she can’t support his weight and they both go crashing down, Kris landing half on top of her. He takes a second to catch his breath and thank god for his survival before he rolls over and frantically checks on her. “Ah-mui mui, are you okay?”
The girl looks up at him and-- oh, not a girl at all but a slight, pixie-faced boy gives him a bright smile. “I’m okay.” He assures, brushing dust off his shirt as he sits up. He smacks Kris’s shoulder teasingly. “You’re heavy.”
“You’re tiny,” he rebuts and the boy scrunches his face up in confusion. Kris clears his throat and sticks a hand out. “Wu Yi Fan.”
The boy stares at him blankly before something clicks. “Oh, Kim Minseok. I mean,” he pauses before very carefully enunciating. “Kam Mansek.” He shakes Kris’s hand. “From Korea.”
Ah, that explains the stilted Cantonese. Kris stands up, wiping dust off the back of his shorts before extending a hand to Mansek. “Ice cream,” he enunciates slowly and the shorter boy’s eyes light up at the familiar English syllables. Kris points at himself. “Ah gor gor will buy.”
It’s over melting popsicles, with the sun beating down on their backs and sticky orange dribbling over their fingers that they have the first of many conversations, albeit one composed primarily of hand gestures, awkward Cantonese and the occasional English interjection. Kris finds out that Mansek is actually the older one in the relationship, that he’s due to start at the same school as him in fall and that Kris is the first person his age he’s spoken to since moving in two weeks ago.
By the time Kris’s mom comes looking for him, sky turning dark and mosquitoes out in full force, the two have already declared an inseparable lifelong brotherhood over a mutual love of Power Rangers. Mansek bows politely to Kris’s mother before taking off towards his own house, waving excitedly as he leaves and Kris returns the gesture, feeling a little less alone than before.
***
Minseok has always been a good speaker and the years seem to have enhanced that ability. He’s equal parts charming, funny and warm as he introduces himself and directs them all to be seated in a circle as he outlines the lesson plan for them.
“So,” he begins, placing his hands on his hips as he appraises them with a teasing grin. Kris tries to shrink further into the shelf he’s sitting beside. “How many of you are here because of the movie with Cher and Christina?”
There’s a smattering of laughter and several people raise their hands good-naturedly. Kris refrains, even though he vaguely recalls watching the movie drunkenly on pay-per-view that fateful night at Luhan’s before signing up online. He blames the sequins for that decision. And Christina’s high notes. Those were definitely brain-addling. Minseok lets the laughter abate before clapping his hands.
“Well, whatever reason you have for being here, I’m glad you decided to give it a try. Burlesque is a great art form for those who want to feel more confident, enjoy performing on stage, or just want an excuse to wear gold lamé leotards.” He gives them a cheeky grin. “Anyone can be a performer, regardless of age, body type or athletic ability. And even though it’s a primarily female-dominated art, male burlesque troupes, or boylesque as we call it, are continuously growing. You guys are Black Pearl’s third all-male class.”
He lets the small smattering of applause die out before nodding towards Kai. “Kai, who you’ve all met, is my co-teacher who specializes in jazz dance and stripping.” Cue loud hooting from the audience and Kai obligingly does a shimmy. “He’ll be helping me out with the basic teaching and later, depending on what performance area you choose to do for your solo stage, he or I will be guiding you.”
Tao’s arm shoots up in the air from beside Kris and he flinches, pulling his hood over his head. “What do you mean solo stages?” Tao asks.
Minseok gasps and presses his fingers to his mouth, gesture simultaneously innocent and flirtatious. “Oops. I got a bit ahead of myself. At the end of these two months, we usually hold a small showcase which our students perform at. You guys will develop routines with us beforehand, either solo or in groups or pairs.” Nervous whispers break out through the room and Minseok claps his hands again, drawing their attention back. “Note that participation is completely voluntary. But we’ve got a long way to go before we get to solos. Everybody up!”
There’s loud shuffling as people stand, Kai getting them to stand spaced out in rows. Minseok is fiddling with a stereo in the corner of the room, hoodie removed to revealed smooth, muscled arms and a nipped-in waist. Kris refuses Tao’s attempts to head to the front and instead lines up in the back row with Kyungsoo, still trying to remain incognito. Minseok and Kai move to the front of the room and Kai flicks on the stereo. A loud bass beat fills the room and the two instructors lead them into a stretching routine. Kris feels his muscles ache in protest as he attempts to bend them in ways they clearly disagree with, noting enviously the ease with which Tao and Kyungsoo go through the moves. After stretches, it’s a gruelling ten minutes of cardio before they’re allowed to ease back into stretches for the cool down. Barely twenty minutes into the two hour class and Kris is already ready to call it quits and drag his aching body home for a bubble bath. He longingly eyes the rack full of boas, wondering whether they’d make good pillows.
Almost as if he’s guessed Kris’s thoughts, Minseok tells them all to grab a boa once the water break has ended. Kris retrieves one that isn’t too moth-eaten, although the lurid neon shade leaves a lot to be desired. He drapes it over his shoulders awkwardly, knowing he looks weird as fuck in his sweat-soaked clothes with his hood still up. He can see Minseok staring at him out of the corner of his eye and he ducks his head down, trying to make all six-feet-four of himself inconspicuous.
Those plans go down the shitter when Tao flounces up to him, pink boa wrapped around his head in a poor approximation of a turban while a stoic Kyungsoo follows, his own knotted around his hips like a skirt. Kris mentally face-palms.
“So, how’re you finding it so far?” Tao asks while bending over, presumably to stretch but Kris has a feeling it’s more to benefit Kai with a view of his (admittedly well-sculpted) ass in tight sweatpants. “Personally, I think warm up should’ve been longer. I don’t feel quite limber enough yet.” He drops smoothly into a split that has Kris’s thigh muscles screaming just from the sight.
Kyungsoo is non-plussed, giving Tao a light kick in the rear. “More like you wanted to spend another ten minutes watching Kai’s dick bounce around in his shorts.”
Tao lets out a mock gasp, rolling over onto his back. “I would never!” he exclaims, clasping his hands to chest empathically. “Although, seriously, dude needs to wear some briefs. I’m worried he’ll pull a nut or something.”
“Your concern for my balls is duly noted.” They hear an amused voice reply as Kai grins, gesturing for them to get back into their rows. Tao has turned a bright shade of red that clashes horribly with his boa and he ducks behind Kris as a laughing Kai makes his way to the front of the room. Minseok turns the stereo on again and this time a sultry jazz beat plays from the speakers.
“Right,” Minseok says, twirling the end of his boa in small circles. “One of the core elements of burlesque performances is the art of the tease. Burlesque never aims to gratify completely, the aim is to have your audience on the edge of their seat with anticipation for your next move. So you have to make those moves count.” Minseok slowly teases his fingers along the edge of the boa, letting them come to a stop at his hips.
“Gestures will of course vary depending on your style, if you choose to do a Vaudeville-style routine your gestures will probably be more emphatic.” Minseok does a sharp twirl, boa a pink blur around him before coming to a sudden stop, hands around his face, eyes wide and, well, empathetic. “Whereas if you go for a more seductive routine, your gestures may be more subtle.” He takes the boa and runs his hands over it, slowly sliding it down his shoulders in a slow, practiced gesture, a complete 180 from his earlier playfulness. The sudden switch is mesmerizing and Kris is ninety percent sure he’s not the only one holding his breath as he follows the fabric’s path down his body.
Minseok snaps his fingers suddenly, drawing their attention back. “Eyes up here, gentlemen. In addition to gestures, there’s a series of poses that are a staple in burlesque. There are about twelve classic pin-up poses you’ll learn in the next class, since most involve a chair. Kai’s going to be leading you through a simple step routine now. Focus mainly on executing movements; in later classes we’ll work on expression and musicality and try out routines with the fans. I’ll be going around to observe and meet with all of you and just get a feel for your individual styles.” He nods towards Kai who begins demonstrating the moves as Minseok moves to introduce himself to a student in the front row.
The routine Kai is demonstrating is fairly easy and normally even Kris’s rhythmically-challenged self would be able to pick it up, but he’s too busy fretting as he watches Minseok make his way down the rows out of the corner of his eye. He stumbles on the spin, nearly braining Tao with his awkward flailing. He gets banished even further back, morosely following along to the moves, the experience firmly cementing his desire not to return.
He’s in the midst of this struggle when he feels small fingers wrap around his wrist. “May I?” Minseok asks, leading him slightly to the left. He puts his hand on the small of Kris’ back, gently applying pressure. “Your posture is too slouched; it’s ruining your bodyline.” Kris straightens his back accordingly and Minseok nods in approval. “Okay, now do the first bit of the routine again.”
He complies, eyes locked onto the floor the entire time but Minseok kindly doesn’t call him out on it.
“You’re moving too fast through some of the slower moves, it’s ruining the effect. See,” he places a hand at his collarbone level and moves it down slowly. Kris follows the movement with a dry mouth, noting the way Minseok’s fingers linger on the space between his thighs before he brings his hands back up to chest level, turning on his heel to face Kris. “That move is meant to be teasing; you’re drawing the audience’s attention to your body, having them follow it downwards then pulling away when you get to where they want you the most.” He laughs as Kris flushes. “Cute. Okay, so let’s try it again, slower this time. You’ve got a long torso, use that to your advantage.”
He puts his band back on his collarbone and Kris imitates him. They do the move together and Kris can see the difference the change in execution makes, the movement looking less sloppy than before. He’s still a far cry from displaying the same seductive ease as his instructor but one must learn to crawl before they can body roll, he guesses. Minseok smiles at him, and it’s disconcerting how new yet familiar that gummy grin is. “You have potential. With that height maybe we could try getting you to do a chair routine.”
Kris clears his throat. “As long as it doesn’t involve much flexibility.” His voice comes out high pitched and he mentally scolds his voice box for failing him.
Minseok doesn’t seem to notice, extending his hand. “Well, who knows. Maybe you’ll build up a bit more stretch by the end of this…” He pauses and oh, he wants Kris to introduce himself.
He considers whether to introduce himself as Yi Fan, wants to see whether it’ll draw some recognition but as per his nature, he chickens out. “Kris Wu” he says, shaking Minseok’s hand as they briefly make eye contact. There’s nothing in his expression to indicate that he’s recognized Kris and he wonders why he’s slightly upset by that considering he’s been trying to hide from the man for the better part of the lesson.
Minseok nods. “I hope we’ll work together well, Kris.” Before moving down the line to speak with Tao who has somehow improvised the simple four-step sequence into including a death drop.
Kris is surprised when Kai shuts the music off and Minseok thanks them all for coming. The two hours have passed by quite quickly. His muscles ache as he makes his way to the door with the rest of the students, dropping his boa in a pile by the door. He drags his feet to the parking lot where Luhan is waiting, singing along loudly to the radio, uncaring of people who are staring. Feeling a lot like a high schooler being picked up by an embarrassing parent, he knocks on the car window, gesturing for the other man to let him in.
“Well?” Luhan’s face looks like it’s going to split in half from the stretch of his smile. “Did you have fun? Did you make any friends?”
“It was okay.” He kicks his shoes off, propping his feet up on the dashboard despite Luhan’s protests. “There were some interesting people there. Not the kind of crowd you’d expect to see at an all men’s burlesque class to be honest.”
Luhan hums, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, have you decided on whether you’ll go back?”
Kris fiddles with the drawstring on his sweatpants, pulling it taut. A part of him wants to stick to his guns and never step foot into the studio room again, another part is drawn to the music and the dancing and just maybe, maybe, the instructor. It may be a testament to how the burlesque class is already changing him that he actually indulges the smaller part of him that wants to stay. “There’s another class this week. I think I’ll go and decide after that.”
He sees Luhan duck his head down, trying to hide a smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Let’s go get pizza to celebrate you shitting that stick up your ass a few inches out your colon.” He mimes wiping away a tear. “I’m so proud.”
It’s probably highly discouraged to pull a person’s ears while driving but revenge is best served fresh-- especially to annoying, little deer men, car accidents be damned.
***
He’s distracted all the next day at work, nearly upending his coffee on a stack of paperwork when his secretary pages him. He opts for an early lunch, heading out to a small café near his building, blending right in with the rest of the harried corporate drones.
He scrolls through his phone while waiting for his order, absentmindedly checking the stock market reports. On impulse he googles “Kim Minseok” and has to scroll through several pages of info about some actor and a table tennis player till he comes across an English article about burlesque clubs in France. He clicks and is greeted by a picture of Minseok suspended in midair between two large swathes of fabric, body curved backwards. The caption identifies him as “aerialist Kim Minseok mid-routine.”
Kris focuses on Minseok’s face, zooming in for a better look. There’s strain on there but it’s obvious from the upward tilt of his mouth that Minseok is in his element. He scrolls through the slideshow, marvelling at the strength and flexibility on display as Minseok contorts his body into increasingly more ridiculous positions. He hurriedly closes the tab when he notices he’s zoomed in on Minseok’s pale thighs.
Looking around he notices the café is full of young couples, all in various states of puppy-eyed adoration and he winces, focusing on the salad in front of him, stabbing a piece of crab with more force than is probably necessary. The pair at the table nearest to him coo at each other and he resists the urge to chuck the salt shaker at the back of their heads, especially when he sees the male’s large ears.
It’s been three weeks since Chanyeol walked out and Kris is still waiting for it to get easier. Little things keep getting to him, couples at a restaurant or finding one of Chanyeol’s sweaters in the back of his closet. It’s weird waking up with one side of the bed cold, all the takeout menus stacked neatly in the kitchen instead of splayed out over the coffee table like when Chanyeol was deliberating on what to order. An irrational part of him holds on to the hope that Chanyeol will come back, that he’ll come home one day to find a lanky body in his bed, giving him a wide-toothed smile.
“Well, you dated the guy for what, five years?” Luhan appraises him critically over the rim of his coffee cup, leaning against Kris’s filing cabinet. “I’d honestly be more concerned if you weren’t upset.”
“But it sucks.” Kris thunks his head repeatedly against the polished oak surface of his desk, narrowly avoiding stabbing himself in the eye with a fountain pen. “When does it stop sucking?”
“How would I know, I’ve never been dumped.” Luhan catches his head before it makes contact with the desk again. “Hey, don’t you have burlesque again today?”
“Boylesque,” Kris corrects although he’s not sure why. “Yeah, I’m heading there after work.”
“Hmm.” Luhan smirks at him over the rim of his cup. “So when do we get to go shopping for fishnets? I think La Senza’s having a sale.”
Kris uses the fountain pen to stab Luhan’s ass, sending the elder off his desk with a yelp. “There will be no fishnets. I told you, this is my second trial class. I probably won’t continue with it.”
“Right,” Luhan drawls. “Do you need a ride to the center?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Kris waves at file at Luhan. “Now go run this up to finance.”
“Slave driver.” Luhan pouts at him before taking the file and leaving the office.
Kris loses himself in the monotony of his work, poring over the new product details, frowning at the below average sales figures for their newest release. He can already tell he’ll be pulling overtime to come up with a new marketing campaign before the quarterly reports are due.
He’s so immersed in his work that it isn’t until he squinting to read his notes in the dimming light that he notices the sun has set. He considers staying behind to finish up-- it’s not like there’s anyone waiting for him at home-- but the appeal of seeing Minseok again makes him drag his weary self down to the elevators and into the parking lot.
He changes out of his suit in the car, pulling on dark sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, carelessly shoving his dress clothes in the gym bag. The ride to the dance center is short and inside, he finds his way to the room easily. Tao is already present, doing a backbend in the corner, shirt riding halfway up his chest. He waves at Kris from his position before smoothly pulling out of it.
“Hiya Big K.” He drapes an arm over Kris’ shoulders. “How’s life?”
“Don’t call me that.” Kris shrugs him off. “Life is busy.”
“Ah, you big white-collar men, you always sweat the small stuff.” Tao tsks. “You should take up yoga, helps relax the mind.”
“I’ll pass,” Kris says, eyes scanning the room. Minseok is here early today and is conversing with some students near the stripper pole. His laugh rings out around the room and Kris wants in on the joke. He blinks when he sees a small hand waving in front of his face. “Wha-- oh hi Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo gives him a nod from where he’s seated on the floor besides Tao, needles clicking together. He’s dressed far more casually than last time, in basketball shorts and a tee (although he kept the cardigan).
The hum of noise in the room grows until Minseok claps his hands and calls for everyone to stand up for stretches. Kris fares slightly better this time around, though his back lets out a hideous cracking sound that has every pair of eyes in the room swivelling towards him. Once the stretching is done, Minseok instructs them all to grab chairs and line them up in rows.
“Okay, in the last class, you guys learned a simple dance routine. We’ll be expanding on that today by adding the chairs into it.” He sits on the chair, crossing one leg over the other and the students follow suit. “Chairs and other pieces of furniture can be very useful props for routines, whether as support during the dance routine or to aid with the teasing. First thing you should do is make sure your chair is sturdy. Everyone stand on them.”
Everyone follows suit, Kris wobbling dangerously on his as the wood groans in protest but thankfully doesn’t send him crashing to the floor. They dismount.
“Okay, that was a joke but seriously, make sure your furniture is reinforced. Once during my club days in Berlin, I saw a dancer fall through a prop table. Splinters are no fun when you’re wearing that little clothing.” He takes the remote and turns the stereo on, the same jazz beat from the last class filtering through the speakers. “Let’s run through the routine once before we incorporate the chairs.”
He leads them through the same routine and Kris follows along well enough. Then Minseok demonstrates the pin-up moves: legs crossed on the chair while leaning forward with a hand propped on his chin, kneeling on the ground with his head resting against the seat, standing with leg one propped up and a variety of others. He next shows them how to use the chair to do the moves, how it’s a good support for plank moves or kicks.
They’re fairly easy, thank god. There are a few mishaps-- with one student accidentally pushing his chair too hard during a spin and falling face-first onto the floor-- but overall it’s mostly a success, and after an hour of repeated run-throughs they have the barebones of a routine set out. Then Minseok drops a bomb on them.
“Okay, individual work time.” Minseok claps his hands. “Everyone is going to come up and perform the routine but I want you to add four of your own steps at the end. It’ll be a good chance to show off some individuality. Kai and I will be coming around to help out so don’t feel too panicked. Feel free to use the boas as props.”
Everyone breaks up and splits into small groups or solo pairs in different parts of the room. Kris tries to sneak off to the bathrooms to hide for the next forty minutes or so but Tao intercepts him and drags him towards a knowing-looking Kyungsoo.
It becomes exceedingly obvious to Kris that he is hopelessly out of his depth dance-wise. His first few attempts at creating his own dance steps are either too difficult for him to execute or “look like they belong in a kindergarten recital, not burlesque.” Tao throws his hands up after Kris’s sixth try at unsuccessfully doing a spin onto the chair. “Just do what you want, Kris.”
He’s trying to do a backwards plank on the chair, feet propped up on its back when he hears a small laugh. From his upside down angle, he sees a face hovering above his and lets out a squeak, dropping to the floor. Minseok extends a hand to him. “Need help?”
“Please,” Kris responds, accepting the hand. Minseok’s palm is callused under his and he pulls Kris up with ease, despite the height difference. Minseok indicates for him to pull the chair over to another corner while he retrieves one for himself. “Okay, show me what you have so far.”
Kris awkwardly demonstrates what little he and Tao had been able to come up with, hitting his ankle hard on the chair leg during the last move. Minseok winces but doesn't say anything till the music stops. “Okay, the first two parts show potential. Show me those again.”
Kris complies, doing the first move which involves him propping one foot up on the chair and bending down slowly. From here, he transitions to the second move which has him spinning to sit in the chair, leg crossed demurely over one knee as he faces the front. Minseok nods, and pulls his own chair over, turning it so he’s sitting face to face with him.
“Okay, the first two moves are good, you just need to be careful with your leg during the spin outwards; you don’t want to end up spraining a knee.” He sits, copying Kris’ pose. “I like this bit, with the whole sexy to ladylike transition.” He presses play and the small speakers start repeating the song.
“Okay right after this part, the music goes into the trumpet crescendo. At that part, you should do this move.” He suddenly spread his legs wide open, hand on either knee. Kris chokes on air at the sudden display of white cotton clad crotch in front of him, which Minseok doesn’t seem to notice. “Right after that, really fast, close your legs, swivel to the left and kick upwards.” He demonstrates. “Then to end with the music, just bring it down slowly and get into your finishing pose.” He frowns slightly. “Pity we aren’t using the fans yet, they’d be great for this.”
He leads Kris through the steps, laughing when the elder is shy about spreading his legs. “We’re all men here, Kris,” he teases, pushing his legs further open, warm heat of his hands bleeding through the fabric of Kris’s sweatpants and making his skin break out in goosebumps. Minseok withdraws his hands quickly. “I’m sorry, was that too forward? I can get a bit touchy sometimes and I forget not everyone’s comfortable with it.”
Kris shakes his head, discomfitted by Minseok’s apologetic expression. “No, it’s okay.” He suddenly executes the move, spreading his legs as far as they can go before snapping them shut again and Minseok laughs.
“There you go. Now for the next part.” Kris clumsily swivels and does the kick and Minseok tsks. “Point your toes, Kris; you want to elongate your legs. We discussed this last time too.” He places his hand on Kris’ calf, gently extending his leg upward and Kris point his toes obediently. “I swear, people like you who’ve stolen all the world’s height and don’t know how to use it.”
Minseok’s tone is playful and Kris has a sudden feeling of deja vu to Minseok saying something similar to him back in ninth grade when Kris had already hit six feet and Minseok was still clinging to somewhere near five-foot five. He grins up at Minseok. “Jealous much?”
Minseok scoffs, pushing his leg down. “Get back to practising, big man. Performances start in five minutes.”
True to his word, five minutes later, they’re all called to form a circle and a chair is set up in the center of the room. Minseok asks if anyone will volunteer to go first and Kyungsoo steps up.
Kyungsoo sets the bar high through a mixture of flexibility and obscene use of his cardigan, and several other students perform after him. Kris is gratified to see that he’s not the only one in the class with less than stellar dance moves and feels a bit less self conscious about performing.
Until Tao goes on. The bastard pulls out all the stops, doing a backflip for his finale which ends with him pulling his shirt off to reveal toned abs. The classroom bursts into raucous hoots and it takes a laughing Minseok a full minute to quiet them down as a shirtless Tao saunters back to the side, winking at Kai as he does. Minseok scans the remaining students thoughtfully, eyes lighting up when he sees Kris. Kris brings his palms together in a pleading gesture but Minseok shakes his head, pointing to him. “Come on out, Kris.”
There’s a small smattering of applause as he heads to the chair, wiping his palms nervously on his jeans. He gets into the opening position and waits for the music to begin. The first part of the routine is easy and he only stumbles once. It’s when his solo bit is coming up that he begins to get nervous, wondering if he can improvise another move instead of the spread legs. He does the bend and spins onto the chair, locking eyes with Minseok in front of him.
There’s a challenge in the other man’s eyes and Kris think “fuck it” and does the move, legs spreading wide except he improvises and brings his hands down over his crotch at the same time. It’s a quick transition to the kick and then it’s his ending pose, music filtering away.
There are cheers and Tao lets out a wolf whistle. Minseok gives him an approving smile, face scrunched up in his mirth. “Well done, Kris. Liked the spontaneity.” He mimics the crotch covering, laughing as Kris flushes and runs off to the side, burying his face in his t-shirt. “Okay, next.”
Tao throws an arm around his neck. “Never thought you’d be the kind of guy to spread your legs in the second class, Big K.” He ducks from Kris’s punch before turning back to watch the others perform. Once performances end, Minseok has them all gather their things. “That’s it for today, gentlemen. Next week, we’ll be starting routines with the fans,” he gestures to the ones hung on the wall, “so make sure to be here. But before that, I’m assigning you all a little homework.”
A chorus of groans greets him and he shushes them. “Oh quit whining, this will be fun. As part of your burlesque training, you’ll be creating a new persona for yourself, one for you to bring out on stage. Your very own Sasha Fierce if you will. You’ll develop that persona as we go along but the first step is to pick your burlesque name. It can be anything, although names with puns or innuendos are popular.”
“What’s yours?” a student calls out.
Minseok juts one hip out, hand perched on it. “Minx,” he purrs, voice exaggeratedly breathy. “And Kai’s is Kaibaret. So get creative, you have the whole week to come up with ideas!”
He dismisses them and people begin to file out, calling out goodbyes as they do. Kyungsoo taps Kris on the shoulder. “Hey, wanna grab dinner together?” He gestures towards Tao who’s in the midst of not-so-subtly flirting with Kai. “He’ll probably need some drinks to deal with that unrequited thirst.”
Kris considers it; it’s been a long day and he’s tired but it’s been a while since he’s been out and he’s got a craving for bulgogi . Besides, it’s a weekend. “Sure. We can take my car if you want.”
“Great, I’ll tell Romeo over there and we’ll head out. Just let me change first.” Kris nods as Kyungsoo yanks Tao away from his object of interest and fills him in, before heading to the bathrooms to change.
Tao sighs at Kai’s departing back before turning to Kris. “Aren’t you going to change?”
“The only clothes I have are my work stuff.” Which are probably wrinkled beyond saving at the bottom of his bag.
Tao rifles through his own canvas tote, tossing a small swath of fabric at him. “Here, I have an extra. Oh look, Kai left his water bottle behind!” Tao grabs the object, skidding out the door presumably to catch up with their instructor.
Kris stands there awkwardly before deciding to change quickly since the room is empty. He’s struggling with getting his head through the opening, arms tangled up in the sleeves, when he feels someone tug the bottom of the shirt down, guiding his head through. He emerges, hair mussed to see Minseok’s face very close to his own and lets out a startled squeak.
Minseok laughs, reaching over to fix his hair. “You are ridiculously adorable sometimes, whether you intend to be or not.” He withdraws his fingers from Kris’s hair. “Sorry, was I being too touchy again?”
“Nah.” Kris stands still as Minseok adjusts the strands, taking advantage of the angle to stare at him. It’s strikes him once again how comfortingly familiar Minseok’s face is, the small birthmark under his left ear, the scar through one of his eyebrows from the time Kris had accidentally nailed him with a tennis racket. There are changes there too, his face having lost the plump roundness of his younger days and his overbite has been corrected. He finds he misses Minseok’s bunny teeth that were a constant source of playful teasing.
He’s too absorbed in inspecting that he doesn’t realise Minseok has long since stopped fixing his hair and is staring back at him. He jerks back, startled when the elder speaks. “Did you by any chance attend SNU? Class of 2009?”
“Huh? Oh no, I was an exchange student at Yonsei.” Kris ducks his head, as Minseok stares at him intently, a small furrow appearing on his forehead.
“I swear, you look so familiar, it’s eerie.” He squints, tilting his head. “Were you ever at any of my shows?”
“No, this class is my first foray into the burlesque world.” Kris wonders if asking Minseok where his shows are held is too forward.
The smaller man shakes his head with a sigh. “This is going to bother me for the rest of the night, I swear. Well, good night Kris, drive safe.” He pats him on the shoulder and exits the classroom.
Once he leaves, Kyungsoo sticks his head out of the small change room in the back. “Are you two done having your little moment? Because there’s a cockroach in there the size of your hand and I’m this close to setting it on fire.”
Kris jumps at the sudden entrance. “We weren’t-- it wasn’t what it looked like-- cockroach?”
Kyungsoo snorts. “Stick to your body for seduction tactics, Big K; your eloquence leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Why is everyone calling me that?” Kris grumbles as he follows Kyungsoo out the door.
***
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