pre-champ [2/2]
Two
The first day is always standard dances. Waltz, Tango, Viennese Waltz, Slow Foxtrot and Quickstep. Baekhyun had been a ten-dancer his freshman year, but he’d quickly realized the standard dances were not for him. “You look like a suffocating penguin,” Kyungsoo had told him, and Jongdae had walked around behind him making horrible bird noises, so Baekhyun had decided to concentrate in latin dance.
Taeyeon had wanted to do the same thing, so it all worked out. It does leave Baekhyun with not much to do on the first day of competition, usually, but watch.
For some reason, though, despite doing nothing more than watch Junmyeon clean up in golds, winning in all five dances with his partner, some grad student from UMBC, and watch both Kyungsoo and Jongdae do extremely well in silver, Baekhyun is exhausted by the time he gets back to Yixing’s room.
Yixing and Han are already there. They’re gossiping in Chinese, and they both look up when Baekhyun enters, dropping his backpack by the door and slipping out of his shoes. Han’s easily folding into Yixing’s space, like they’ve known each other for years, and Han’s hand it resting on Yixing’s knee. Baekhyun’s stomach is suddenly really upset, and he doesn’t know why. “Don’t mind me,” Baekhyun mumbles, but Yixing is shaking his head.
“I have my other dance practice until midnight,” he says. “I hope you guys can entertain yourselves for four hours or so.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Baekhyun replies, saluting Yixing as he grabs a sweatshirt off the back of his chair and leaves.
“We went to high school together,” Han says, after the silence has stretched on too long.
“I don’t care,” Baekhyun says.
“We did ballroom together,” Han adds. “For a few years. Same club. It works differently in China, you know.”
“I didn’t do ballroom at all in high school,” Baekhyun finally says, as he unrolls his sleeping bag. “I started freshman year of college.”
“You’ve come really far,” Han says. “Really far, really fast.”
“I know,” Baekhyun says. Han is looking at him, looking into him, and it’s annoying. Han slides down off the bed to sit next to Baekhyun on his sleeping bag. “You’ve got your own,” Baekhyun says.
“I never had anything going on with Yixing.” Han plucks at Baekhyun’s sweatshirt. “Not like this.”
“We don’t have anything going on either.” Baekhyun unzips his sleeping bag, but he can’t get in with Han sitting right in the middle of it.
“And yet,” Han says, “you owe me."
Baekhyun laughs, because he’s tired but not so tired he isn’t interested, and finds Han’s lips. As always, Han kisses him back, cupping the back of Baekhyun’s neck and moving in closer, pulling up on Baekhyun’s sweatshirt. “I guess we can entertain ourselves for four hours, huh?” Baekhyun says, lips brushing Han’s stubble, and Han laughs, lifting his arms and pulling away just long enough to take off his shirt.
They kiss for longer than they’ve ever kissed before, slow and melting, and Baekhyun takes this rare uninterrupted time to explore the lines of Han’s chest, the muscle and the softness of his skin.
His sleeping bag is thin beneath them, but by the time they’ve stripped off most of their clothes, only their boxers remaining, the heat of their skin is more than enough of a distraction from the floor. “Your friend better not come back now,” Baekhyun says, pushing Han down and lying on top of him, slotting his thighs on either side of Han’s hips. “Unless he’s into watching."
Baekhyun pants into Han’s shoulder as they rocks their hips together, the fabric of their boxers giving an almost painful edge to the friction. Han’s fingers dig into his ass, pulling him down, and Baekhyun swears into his neck as he feels that low boil start in his belly. “You’re so noisy,” Han says. “The most I can get you to talk to me is when it’s like this.”
Baekhyun bites into Han’s shoulder in response, and Han laughs, his cock twitching against Baekhyun’s stomach. “Bitch."
“I wonder how much you’d talk if I fucked you,” Han says. “Would you be even louder? If I stretched you open and fucked you?”
Imagining it is enough to push Baekhyun over the edge and into euphoria, spilling into his boxers as Baekhyun continues to rub into him, evidence that his own release is close in his stuttered gasps and tightening fingers that grip Baekhyun’s ass.
“Baekhyun,” Han murmurs, before he follows him into completion, lips parting and cheeks blush as he comes.
After Baekhyun has rolled them both into his sleeping bag, too sleepy to clean up, he zips them both in. Han is already asleep, his head heavy on Baekhyun’s chest and his arms tight around Baekhyun’s waist, and Baekhyun doesn’t have the heart to wake him. Before he can think better of it, he kisses Han lightly on the forehead.
“I wish it could be like this all the time,” Han says, startling Baekhyun and making him jerk away from Han, as much as he can in the confines of a single sleeping bag. “You treating me like one of your friends.”
Like this all the time would mean Baekhyun acknowledging all the funny things Han makes him feel. That’s not going to happen. He should tell Han that, but Han’s breath is even, like he’s really asleep this time, so Baekhyun will remind him in the morning that they’re rivals, not friends.
÷
In the morning, Baekhyun wakes up with an aching back and Yixing staring down at him, smiling. “You might want to get up and shower,” he says, not mentioning that Han is in Baekhyun’s sleeping bag with him, and that neither of them are wearing anything but boxers.
He deeply appreciates Yixing right now.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “We should.”
Yixing just nods, cheerfully ambling out of his room and leaving Baekhyun and a sleeping Han alone. Baekhyun looks as Han, reaching a hand to wipe a bit of drool from the corner of his lips. His boxers stick to his skin with his own come when he moves. “Get up,” Baekhyun says.
“Be nice to me, like last night,” Han says. “And I’ll think about it.”
“We have an hour to get to the gym,” Baekhyun replies. “I’m going to shower.”
“Mmm,” Han says, as Baekhyun shimmies his way free of the sleeping bag.
In the shower, Baekhyun washes away everything but the upcoming competition, bringing himself into laser-like focus.
÷
The morning flies by. Baekhyun spends it silent, eyes on the dance floor and back straight, Taeyeon at his side. The sequins on her dress keep catching on the silk of his shirt. The dance floor is too full for Baekhyun’s first two heats, but once they get to the fourth heat, it’s down to a standard four couples spread out over five heats, and then two heats for the semi-finals, six couples each.
“We’re in the second heat,” Taeyeon says, and only then does Baekhyun exhale, finally soaking in the atmosphere of the competition. Just the semi-finals and then, if they make it through, they’ll be done until evening, when champ and pre-champ duke it out in front of a much larger audience.
Time to breathe means time to remember helping Han slick his hair back this morning in the bathroom, seated on the edge of the sink with Han between his thighs, hands on Baekhyun’s bare legs.
To remember Han’s smile.
To get distracted.
“We’re rivals,” Baekhyun says, and Taeyeon cuts him a strange look. “It’s nothing."
Baekhyun doesn’t watch Han’s semi-final. He catches a glimpse of him on the floor, with his squared shoulders and perfect rumba posture, and he turns away, choosing instead to chat with Kyungsoo, who’s already been eliminated in silver latin, and is now focused entirely on teasing Jongdae as he attempts to keep and hold Junmyeon’s attention.
The round ends with a jive, and Junmyeon claps loudly as Han beams at the audience after a full bow. Seohyun looks radiant, but Baekhyun can’t take his eyes off of Han, who’s sweaty and somehow pretty under the horrible gym lighting, his slicked back hair sparkling with glitter.
“Everything all right?” Jongin asks, and Baekhyun’s throat is drier than he’d thought, since his “yeah” comes out as a croak.
“It’s fine,” he says, after taking a swig from his water bottle, the terrapin smirking back at him mockingly. “Yeah, I’m just-“
“Nervous, right?” Jongin grins. He’s flushed too. He and Hyori are clearly favored to win gold, and Baekhyun is rooting for them. “Me too. I feel like I could lose one or both of my testes if I mess up."
“I don’t need to be nervous,” Baekhyun replies. “I’m going to win.”
“Don’t forget about Han,” Jongin advises with a soft smile. “He certainly hasn’t forgotten about you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, you little punk?”
Jongin just gives him a tiny wave, and abandons Baekhyun as Taeyeon walks over.
The competitors on the floor are dismissed, and it’s only the familiar smell of Baekhyun’s own hairspray that lets him know Han is lingering.
“Don’t forget about your shoulder,” Han says, after Taeyeon finishes adjusting his number on his back and disappears to take off her heel caps. “In the samba rolls.”
Frustration, over the fact that Han is giving him pointers like some kind of amateur, and also that, despite that, he still wants…
“Stop it,” Baekhyun says sharply. “I don’t need your advice, or your help.”
“I know,” Han says, stepping back like Baekhyun’s words are fists. “I’m sorry.”
Something about the look in Han’s eyes makes Baekhyun miserable, and he doesn’t want to deal with it. He needs to keep his eyes on the prize, not on Han. It doesn’t matter if he’s realized the things he feels about Han aren’t quite hate, or if Han’s smiles makes his stomach curl up with pleasure. It doesn’t matter because Baekhyun has to focus on the pre-champ finals. He has to focus on that blue ribbon, and winning, and not on all this stuff he doesn’t get.
“We’re not friends,” Baekhyun says. “We’re rivals. Ever since that first day, I’ve been waiting for the chance to beat you.” The judge calls Baekhyun’s number for the last semi-final heat. “We’re not… Just because I let you sleep on me a few times, and didn’t push you away, it doesn’t change anything. You’re not going to take pre-champ away from me. I’m going to beat you, and then I’m not going to feel anything about you at all. Do you get it?”
Han’s face is tight and angry, and his eyes close. “I get it,” Han says. “I really, really do.”
As Baekhyun spins Taeyeon out to greet the crowd, he looks back at Han, still sweaty and flushed from his own semi-final round, and he smirks. Han doesn’t reply, just looks at Baekhyun with this awful vacant look, and Baekhyun shoves his discomfort away and grins at Taeyeon.
“Ready to knock their socks off?” He asks, and she smiles.
“Naturally,” she replies. “As if we’d do anything else."
÷
Triumph sings in Baekhyun’s veins as he brushes the soles of his shoes. Their performance had been flawless- he’d seen a nod of approval from several of the spot judges, one he recognizes from his first Ohio Star Ball, four long years ago. “You did well.”
Baekhyun doesn’t turn away from his shoes. “I know,” he says.
“I’m dropping out,” Han says, leaning against the doorway. “Of the finals."
Baekhyun’s head darts up to look at him. “What?”
“I’m dropping out.” Han doesn’t seem concerned, but Baekhyun can tell from the ways his hands are clenched that he is. “This competition clearly means more to you than it does to me, and if I win, you’ll never forgive me. So I’m dropping out.”
“You can’t drop out,” Baekhyun says. “Dropping out is for cowards. You just know I’ll win.” Baekhyun is spitting mad. Sure, he never wanted Han to come here but that doesn’t mean he wants to beat him by default. He wants… He wants… He doesn’t want this. He didn’t work so hard so he could stand here in front of Han and feel like nothing. “You worked… hard. You can’t just. Quit."
“Why do you care?” Han says. “You hate me, right?” He laughs, and Baekhyun’s stomach churns at how hollow his laugh is. It doesn’t remind Baekhyun of anything remotely like happiness, which is strangely depressing, and Baekhyun hates it. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” Baekhyun asks.
“Fight with you,” Han replies. “Compete against you so that you can put me behind you. Or pretend like you’re ever going to like me the way I like you.”
“The way you…” Baekhyun swallows, pulling on the silk of his shirt as Han gives him a look. “You’re not supposed to like me for real.” Baekhyun’s eyes sting. “That’s not how it works. We’re supposed to be rivals. You’re supposed to hate me as much-“ He can’t really say it, anymore, even in his head. “The blowjobs and stuff, those weren’t… it was just…"
“Yeah,” Han says. “I know that. I know it didn’t mean anything to you. I’ve tried… to change things.” He shrugs. “But I can’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve liked you since the first day of team practice,” Han says. “I liked your laugh, and how you argue with Jongdae and Kyungsoo. I liked the way you compliment Jongin, but in secret, like you’re not supposed to. I like how you keep trying to set up Jongdae and Junmyeon because you think they’re cute together, and how you think no one notices.” His eyelashes flutter, and he licks his lips. They’re pretty, and Baekhyun knows they taste as good as they look. “You aren’t like that with me, though. I thought if I played down the competition, and let you… you know, you’d… you’d relax, and all those things I liked about you would apply to me too. That you’d like me.”
“Han, I…” Baekhyun feels sick.
“You won’t, though.” He shakes his head. “I feel stupid. I like you so much, and when you kissed me… It was just another way of getting revenge on me for 'stealing’ something from you, yeah?” He wipes the thin sheen of sweat off of his forehead. “I give up, Baekhyun. You win.”
As Han walks away, leaving Baekhyun alone in the makeshift dressing room, he doesn’t feel like he’s won. He mostly feels… like nothing, which is strange. He’d thought he wanted Han Lu to stop smiling at him, to stop pretending like they were anything more than rivals who fucked sometimes. He’d thought…
Baekhyun doesn’t feel like he’s won. He just feels like an asshole.
÷
“You’re an asshole,” Jongdae says. “I’ve always known this, but this is the first time I’m actually disappointed about it.”
“What?” Baekhyun sets his eyeliner pencil down and looks at Jongdae. Jongdae has his hands on his hips, and his mouth is curled down in disapproval.
“Kyungsoo and I decided not to say anything when you and Han started sleeping together-“
“You know?” Baekhyun grips the edge of the bathroom counter. “How do you even-“
“And while we were both slightly hurt that you didn’t trust us, your best friends, with this information, we figured you were still trying to figure things out, since you never even mentioned that you might like dudes-“
“But how-“
“AND since Kyungsoo is busy eating Taeyeon out in the women’s bathroom right now-“
Baekhyun’s head is spinning. “But she’s my ballroom partner!”
“-It falls to me to confront you and tell you you’re being a big, huge, mega-jerk.” Jongdae crosses his arms with authority. “Han is miserable and it’s your fault, because everything is your fault. To be honest.”
“I know,” Baekhyun says, picking up his eyeliner pencil again before realizing his hands are shaking too much to apply it. He sighs with defeat.
“It’s my duty… wait, did you just agree?”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I know it’s my fault and that I have to fix it, but I don’t even know how.”
“I’m sorry goes an awful long way with normal people,” Jongdae says. “If Kyungsoo were here, he’d tell you to stop being a pussy.”
“Otherwise what? He’d eat me?” Baekhyun turns on the water and rinses the powder off of his hands. The glitter, though, clings stubbornly in the webs between fingers. “How do you make up for treating someone terribly because you’re really stubborn and arrogant?”
“You stop treating them terribly,” Jongdae says. “Also, you probably show them that despite being stubborn and arrogant, you can be other things, too.”
Baekhyun swallows. “Yeah,” he says. Then he scowls. “What do you mean Kyungsoo’s eating out Taeyeon in the women’s bathroom?”
“Well,” Jongdae says, “you have been a bit preoccupied with your gay exchange student love affair.” He laughs. “Plus, dude, Kyungsoo’s a stud.”
“We’re getting Panda Express for lunch,” he says. “But first, I need to… do something.”
÷
Baekhyun had never really planned on liking Han Lu.
After all, he was the wrench in Baekhyun’s glorious plans of senior year domination, and all of Baekhyun’s friendship slots have been full since sophomore year. So when Han appeared, with all these medals and a perfect chacha basic, Baekhyun had been, well, kinda furious.
When Han had kissed him back, that first time, no questions asked, Baekhyun had been even more mad, because who takes that kind of thing in stride?
He’s not sure how he managed to convince himself that Han wouldn’t have feelings, or that other people wouldn’t notice. He isn’t sure of much, right now, only that he’s messed up, been messing up, and the only way to fix it, if he wants to fix it, is to prove to Han that Baekhyun sees him as more than… than a rival with benefits.
He still thinks of Han as his rival, but… it’s clearly more than that, and has been more than that for quite a while. Baekhyun doesn’t know when it changed.
“Number 445?” Baekhyun blinks to clear away his thoughts, and smiles at the judge. He hadn’t realized he’d already made it to the front of the line. “Did you want to sign up for one of the special dances?”
“Yes,” he says. “Same sex rumba.”
÷
After lunch, there are only the three special dances between Baekhyun and the pre-champ finals sans Han Lu.
Han’s partner Seohyun is whispering at him furiously, already back in costume, make-up freshly applied, and Han is frowning down at his own knees. Baekhyun’s stomach dips.
Taeyeon and Hyori start putting on their shoes as the backwards chacha finishes, clearly also participating in the same sex rumba, and Baekhyun notices that Han is still wearing his. He stands up with purpose, and everyone turns to look at him. He pretends they aren’t and walks across his teams seats, nearly tripping over Kyungsoo’s shoe-bag, and stops in front of Han.
“It’s our turn,” Baekhyun says, holding out a hand to Han. Everyone goes quiet, Hyori watching them with a raised eyebrow as Baekhyun waits to see if Han takes his hand.
“You signed us up for the same sex rumba?” Han’s face is surprisingly unreadable, and Jongdae makes an asinine whistle that Baekhyun will pay him back for later.
“A while ago,” Baekhyun lies nonchalantly, and Han’s eyes flash as he takes Baekhyun’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Our two best Latin dancers dancing together,” Junmyeon says. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Han’s silently asking Baekhyun a lot of questions. Like if it’s all right for Baekhyun to strain himself before he has to dance in the finals. Or what Baekhyun’s sick twisted motive might be. But then he seems to give in to whatever Baekhyun’s whim is and sighs.
“Me either,” Han says, standing up. “We’d better hurry or we’ll be disqualified.”
He pulls Baekhyun out onto the dance floor, and Baekhyun grins as he automatically lets Han lead. Han gives him a questioning look even as he switches his forward foot to accommodate. “Since we didn’t practice,” Baekhyun says, “I’ll take the hard part.”
Han laughs, eyes wary. “Oh, I see, that’s how you’re playing it.”
“Any dope can lead,” Baekhyun replies. “But it takes a talented dancer like me to switch on a dime.”
The music starts, and Han pulls Baekhyun in close, Baekhyun’s thigh sliding between his partner’s as they swivel their hips in perfectly timed figure 8s. Baekhyun swallows as he takes in the smell of hairspray and sweat, and he pastes a smile on his face as he looks Han in the eyes.
As they get further into the dance, Baekhyun takes it sexier, challenging Han to keep up as he grinds into him and makes Han support his weight in the drops.
Baekhyun drags his fingers down Han’s chest as he’s dragged out of the dip, and Han’s jaw clenches, his eyes bright and fierce as Baekhyun’s heartbeat speeds up. Daringly, Baekhyun drags his hand lower, stopping just above Han’s crotch as he’s spun out into an alemana. Baekhyun is hot, so hot, and he doesn’t know why he waited so long to dance with Han, when Han dances like this.
When he’s dancing, Han is really gorgeous. Baekhyun thinks he looks as good like this as he looks when he’s flushed and wrecked with his dick in Baekhyun’s mouth.
The music comes to a stop and Han immediately drops Baekhyun’s hand like it’s poison, stepping away. His face is pink, and his hair falls into his eyes, angry and shimmering. Baekhyun doesn’t realize they haven’t been tapped out- that they’ve won, until the judge calls Han’s number. They walk forward toward the judging table to take a shiny set of blue ribbons, and Baekhyun grins happily as they take them, winking back at Jongdae who is hollering way too loudly to be appropriate.
“Was that fun?” Han asks, and Baekhyun is about to reply yes until he notices that Han’s shoulders are shaking, and that Han isn’t smiling. “It wasn’t enough to win the pre-champs, right? You have to win this, too?” Baekhyun is confused. "I need… I need some air.” And then he’s storming out of the gym, and Baekhyun, even though he and Taeyeon are dancing in only a few minutes in the finals, follows him.
“Han,” Baekhyun says, racing out into the hallway. “Han, wait!”
Han jerks back when Baekhyun grabs his wrist, turning around and frowning at Baekhyun while somehow managing to avoid looking into his eyes. “What do you want, Baekhyun?”
“I-“ Baekhyun is supposed to say something here. Something like first place in pre-champ, but only fair and square or to stop feeling guilty.
“I never meant to tell you my feelings,” Han says, “because I knew you wouldn’t return them. But I didn’t think you would try to prove to both of us how much I liked you in front of the team.” Han chuckles, but it’s wet and mopey, like Jongdae’s laugh when his first girlfriend had broken up with him after his team had lost the lacrosse regionals. “Are you satisfied, Baekhyun? That even now, I still want you?"
“That’s not what I was doing at all,” Baekhyun says, and he coughs into his hand. “That’s not why I signed us up. It wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to rub anything in your face.”
Han snorts.
"While that’s totally something I would do,” he continues, “it’s not what I was doing, this time.”
“What were you doing then?” Han looks so… fragile? It’s not the first time Baekhyun has seen his emotions so close to the surface, but it is the first time that Baekhyun has known, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s all his fault.
“I’ve been thinking of you as a competitor, this whole time.” Baekhyun still has a hold on Han’s wrist. “But I thought it might be nice if we could dance together. So I could see what all the fuss is about.” He slides his hand down until his palm is facing Han’s and then he laces their fingers together. “That’s all.”
“What… what do you want, Baekhyun?” His voice is less sure this time, and Baekhyun’s heart jumps in his chest, that mix of joy and anticipation he thought he could only find out on the dance floor.
“You,” Baekhyun says, as sincerely as he’s ever said anything in his life.
Han does meet his eyes, then, his mouth dropping open in shock. “What?”
“I want you,” Baekhyun repeats, and Han’s cheeks flush red, and Baekhyun’s are too, maybe, kinda, but he’ll never admit it. “I also sort of want to dance in the pre-champ finals, but I won’t unless you dance too."
“You… like me?” Han asks, slowly, like he’s double-checking to make sure it’s really Baekhyun in front of him.
Baekhyun grins. “Yeah,” Baekhyun says, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “I do.” He laughs. “Even if you do look like a velociraptor when you laugh.”
“Yixing says that’s part of my charm.”
Baekhyun lets go of Han’s hand. “I’ve never dated anyone before,” Baekhyun says. “And I am high-maintenence and I’m not always nice.”
“I know,” Han says. “That’s okay. I like you too.”
“This is really romantic,” Hyori says, and they both look back toward the gym, where she’s leaning against Jongin, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, “but finals are in 6 minutes and the judges are doing spot checks for numbers.”
Han hesitates a moment, then he grabs a handful of Baekhyun’s shirt and jerks him closer. He kisses him, tongue sliding in between Baekhyun’s lips and lapping at the palette of his mouth before pulling back. “Good luck,” he says, grinning as Baekhyun stares at him in shock.
His whole body is warm, and it’s not just from dancing. “I don’t need luck,” Baekhyun says. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”
“In your dreams,” Han says, and he laughs.
÷
Han curls into Baekhyun’s side as soon as they get on the bus, claiming the seat before anyone else can, and Baekhyun scowls as Junmyeon smiles pleasantly at him, a hint of mocking in his eyes.
“Jongdae had said you two were getting along better,” Junmyeon says. “I’m happy to see that, although I wasn’t really expecting it to be this well.”
“Jongdae’s just jealous he’s not 'getting along' this well with you,” Baekhyun says, dragging a possessive hand up Han’s thigh, then yelps as a latin shoe hits him in the back of the head.
“Jongdae should learn to be patient until I finish my thesis,” Junmyeon says, only loud enough for Baekhyun and Han to hear, and Baekhyun laughs into Han’s hair as Han tries not to give anything away. Junmyeon clears his throat and raises his voice. “Has anyone seen Kyungsoo?”
“He’s… here,” Taeyeon says, from the back of the bus. She looks flushed and slightly uncomfortable as everyone turns to look at her. The seat next to her is empty and-
“Oh hell no,” Jongdae says, as Jongin buries his face in Hyori’s shoulder. She pets him like he’s a loyal puppy and Baekhyun thinks it’s going to be a long ride south.
“Have you ever been blown on a bus?” Han whispers, into his ear, and Baekhyun swallows.
Maybe the ride won’t be long enough.
“That’s not enough of a consolation prize for second place,” Baekhyun says, slouching lower in his seat. “I’ll get you next time, Han. In the spring at Columbia.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Han says, as he unrolls his sleeping bag and pulls it over them both, disappearing beneath it.
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