Word count: 1115
Summary: Changmin knows how to dance most of the time.
Author's notes: Written for ranalore for nuna_fanworks Holiday Exchange 2008.
Just once in a while, Yunho thought, it would be nice if their schedule allowed them to take one thing at a time, rather than cramming half a dozen activities into a single day. They'd been up early for a talk show, followed by a photoshoot in which they'd all had to wear American cowboy outfits--a surprisingly flattering look for both Yoochun and Changmin, though no one could look at Junsu for too long without laughing. Then they'd barely had time to grab lunch afterwards before they were hustled into their van to go suffer through several hours of dance practice for an upcoming awards ceremony. Even Junsu had begun to droop a little, and Yunho could feel a fine tremor in his muscles that would lead to sloppy footwork if he weren't careful.
Given all that, it wasn't surprising when Changmin stumbled slightly coming out of a turn. The choreographer glared, the rest of them compensated, and they continued without further comment. Only then a misplaced step fourteen bars later had Changmin tripping over his own feet, and this time the choreographer stopped the music so that he could spend a productive five minutes scolding Changmin.
Changmin just nodded politely and agreed with everything the man said, while everyone else tried not to watch. A minute or two into the rant, Jaejoong's eyes met Yunho's in the mirror, and Yunho nodded in response to the unspoken question.
If he'd been thinking, he would have expected this already. He'd seen Changmin lying on the couch just the night before, ostensibly watching TV, though he'd spent most of the time cursing under his breath while Yoochun massaged his legs.
The four of them had all come up with ways to ease the very literal growing pains Changmin's body put him through as he kept shooting up to newer and more absurd heights. By this point, they had it down to a routine: Jaejoong fed him snacks 'round the clock in an effort to keep him from becoming any ganglier than necessary; Yoochun gave him massages; Junsu cuddled him afterwards, helping keep Changmin's warmed and loosened muscles from tightening up into cramps again; and Yunho was in charge of reteaching Changmin how to dance.
Fortunately, their choreographer was scheduled to meet with SHINee just after he finished with them, so he didn't have time for more than one or two caustic comments on their performance as he hurried out the door. Not to mention that his time constraints meant that dance practice actually ended when it had been scheduled to end...never a guarantee when they had the evening free, as they did tonight.
Junsu was squawking energetically about something or other as everyone but Yunho headed for the door; apparently he'd gotten his second wind a bit earlier than usual.
Yunho, who had no such luck, dropped down onto the floor and let himself lie back with a deep sigh. "Changmin," he called.
Changmin glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw Yunho sprawled out on the floor, water bottle close to hand, he handed his bag to Yoochun and crossed the room to join Yunho.
"Just give me ten, first, okay?" Yunho asked. The wooden floorboards felt way better against his back than they had any business feeling, and he only managed to keep his eyelids open through force of will.
"Sure," Changmin said, flopping onto his back beside Yunho, close enough to be companionable but not so close that they'd share excess body heat.
The wall clock ticked off each passing minute with a portentous click, until time was up and Yunho had no choice but to haul himself to his feet again. Changmin's eyes were closed, but he wasn't breathing heavily enough for sleep. Yunho nudged him in the ribs, twisting out of the way before Changmin could hook his ankle and bring him crashing onto the ground.
"It would serve you right if I fell on top of you," Yunho grumbled, even as he offered Changmin a hand up.
"You kicked me first," Changmin pointed out.
"If you call that a kick," Yunho said.
"I just did," Changmin said, and Yunho rolled his eyes a little at smug dongsaeng who thought they were so clever.
He queued up some music with a pounding beat, not caring much what the song was, and stood in front of Changmin. He was pretty sure that the others thought he and Changmin went over their latest choreography when they practiced together, but it rarely turned out that way. The problem wasn't with the moves themselves; Changmin knew the theory as well as anyone. It was just a matter of reacquainting his body with how all his limbs fit together.
Changmin grinned, half at Yunho and half at the floor, and hooked a finger in the waistband of Yunho's pants to bring him a step closer. Yunho responded by placing his hand at Changmin's waist and rolling his own hips slowly.
Just regular club dancing wouldn't do Changmin much good, but that was only the intro. Changmin ground carefully against Yunho, his hand creeping around to palm the small of his back, and then took half a step backwards so that he could launch into some quick footwork.
Yunho glanced downwards, recognized a bit from their most recent routine, and stepped in two beats behind Changmin. Simply mirroring the steps wasn't challenging enough; they got their best results when Changmin had to watch out for two sets of feet, rather than just his own.
A minor misstep had Yunho tightening his grasp on Changmin's hip to hold him back a little and avoid a collision, and Changmin gave him a sheepish smile in thanks, looking at Yunho from under his eyelashes. It was an expression that had worked better when he hadn't been several centimeters taller than Yunho.
A sudden, deliberate brush of Changmin's hips against Yunho's made him catch his breath, and he thumbed the skin above Changmin's waistband, the tips of his fingers sliding into the small gap between fabric and soft, sweat-damp skin. This, on the other hand, was definitely one of the benefits to Changmin getting older. As Changmin leaned down those few centimeters to reach Yunho's mouth, Yunho ceased thinking of anything but that he hoped Changmin had locked the door when the others had left. And then Changmin kissed him, sweet and insistent, and even that thought became unnecessary and irrelevant.