The Dance Teacher || Namseok

| 22 |

The ride to Hoseoks studio wasn't long, lucky for the two men considering they couldn't stand each other at the moment. But they did just finish a hardcore wrestling match outside a cafe so it was kinda expected.

As Hoseok parked himself in his usual spot in front of the studios entrance, both him and Namjoon got out briskly and got themselves inside. Fortunately, it was only ten past four meaning they were a bit early and not late, but to Namjoons sadness. He hated going to dance class so he didn't like the fact of staying in the cursed building more than he needed to be.

He followed Hoseok to the room where they had first met, the one room that sparked his strange acquaintance with Hoseok and the place where his life began to disintegrate afterwards. But hey, at least it smelled like strawberry, it was his favorite scent.

Namjoon looked at himself in one of the many mirrors surrounding the room, and he thought to himself, that boy, he could not be looking any hotter. He lifted his hand and smoothed down his styled hair and sneakily sent himself a quick wink, thinking about the possibility of being a model considering he was looking like a real snack today.

As he admired his features in the mirror, he looked at his side from the corner of his eye momentarily and was shocked at what he saw. In the corner of the room, Hoseok was seen stripping off his shirt, leaving his upper torso naked and bare. Namjoons eyes widened at his glorious physique, at his toned back, defined abs and well, basically everything.

His cheeks began to grow pink but he avoided saying anything, instead, Namjoon acted as if he was fixing his hair in the mirror, but in reality, he was staring at Hoseok handsomely put on his white tank top. Namjoon was a bit saddened that he couldn't watch Hoseok take off his pan- uh.. he means take off panting from how hot Namjoon was looking today of course. Yeah, that's it.

"yo," Hoseok called out as he carefully folded his clothes into his sports bag, "go change into shorts because i doubt you can dance in pants. actually i already know you can't dance at all but i don't want your leg sweat on my floor, so go change."

Namjoon rolled his eyes and turned away from his reflection to face Hoseok, "does it look like i brought shorts with me?"

"dont sass me bitch or i'll suffocate you with my foot." Hoseok growled.

"ooh kinky," Namjoon winked, "i didn't know you had a foot fetish."

Hoseok picked up his bag and placed it in the corner before walking up to Namjoon, "don't start with me kim, and i don't have a foot fetish."

"if it's not a foot fetish then what are your kinks hobi?" Namjoon questioned, knowing clearly that Hoseok would get pissed by his question, and he was right.

"as if i would tell you," Hoseok scoffed, "now stop talking and go change. there's a pair of extra shorts in my office, go put them on and come back."

Namjoon smirked and nodded innocently, "alright daddy."

Hoseok furiously gasped and before he had time to smack Namjoon, the younger quickly ran out of the room and towards Hoseoks office as he laughed hysterically. Oh how he loved pissing Hoseok off, you could say it's one of talents now considering all the times he's done it.

Namjoon walked into the room with the 'office' logo scripted on it and locked the wooden door behind him. The room was surprisingly organized considering Hoseoks life was a mess, but then again, who's wasn't? It was plain, with a basic desk in the center and two file cabinets on the back side. The only decorative piece in the whole office was a dead cactus on top of the desk, and Namjoon couldn't help but wonder how it died if it was made out of plastic?