𐀶 ՙ 🎸 · 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

⋆ 🦢 practice ; b.cn

Smut
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You were in the practice room which Chan and you would never expect to be in this situation.

⭒ֺ𓏲 🌷 ִֶָ⭒

The rehearsal studio was nearly empty now, most of the other performers having left hours ago, their laughter and chatter replaced by the steady hum of the air conditioning and the soft thud of your shoes against the polished floor. You and Chan were the only ones left, both of you determined to perfect the choreography for your upcoming collab stage.

It had been a long day. Hours of practice had left your muscles aching, your clothes sticking to your skin with sweat, and your mind fuzzy from exhaustion. Yet, despite it all, you'd stayed behind. And so had Chan. You weren't sure if he'd stayed because he was just as much of a perfectionist as you or if it was for a different reason entirely. Either way, the tension in the air between the two of you had been simmering for hours, unspoken but undeniable.

"Let's run it one more time," you said, breathless as you pushed a strand of damp hair out of your face, your eyes meeting Chan's in the mirror. He was standing behind you, his hands resting on his hips as he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling heavily.

"You sure?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look like you're about to pass out."

You shot him a playful glare, though you couldn't deny that you were exhausted. "I'm fine," you replied, turning to face him fully. "I just want to get it right."

Chan chuckled softly, stepping closer to you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You always want to get it right," he teased, his voice low and smooth. "That's what I like about you."

You rolled your eyes at his words, though you couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the compliment. Chan had a way of getting under your skin, of making you feel things you weren't always prepared to feel. And right now, with the two of you alone in the studio, the dim lights casting long shadows against the walls, that tension was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

"Come on," you said, stepping back into position. "One more time."

Chan watched you for a moment, his eyes scanning over your body as you moved into the starting pose. He took a deep breath, then stepped in behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body against your back.

"You're really pushing yourself tonight," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. "What's the rush? We've still got time before the performance."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at the proximity of him. "I just want to make sure everything's perfect," you replied, though even you could hear the strain in your voice.

Chan hummed softly, his hands brushing lightly over your hips as he moved to adjust your stance. "You're already perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible but sending a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on the choreography, on the steps you'd practiced so many times before. But it was impossible to concentrate with Chan so close, his hands wandering over your body under the guise of correcting your form.

"Here," he said, his voice low and teasing as his fingers trailed up your arms, guiding them into the correct position. "Relax your shoulders a little."

You did as he instructed, though your entire body was tense now, your nerves buzzing with anticipation. You could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric of your shirt, could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back as he pressed even closer.