❪ 月光 ❫ fluff ten x f!reader 533 cw ノ not proofread 〃 ♡ ⸝⸝⸝ look at me finishing another fic for 3k before 4k AGAIN skdjks / 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
You're utterly stuck—soft duvet wrapped around your body, tucked under you securely in a way to protect from blanket stealers. Louis and Levi are loafed on top of you, as they have been for hours now. They're perfectly content and unaware of just how vulnerable you are right now to certain attacks of cold hands and feet. Your boyfriend just has to find a way to get past the blankets and cats.
He does it easily, almost too easily. He has years of practice stealing back the blankets from you, and is immune to your tricks to try to keep them all to yourself. As for the cats, they stay unbothered through your shrieks as Ten slips under the blankets with you, and his freezing hands meet yours.
"You're so cold! Get out—" you clamor, trying to push him away. He holds onto your waist, giggling at your futile attempts because he knows they won't work.
"You won't let me cuddle with my babies?" your boyfriend whines, pushing closer to you so his cold cheek bumps against your shoulder. He motions to Leon who couldn't care less about his dad's presence. You scowl.
"You're giving me chills," you complain, rubbing your arms up and down in a failed attempt at warming up. If you felt a bit more dramatic, you would start chattering your teeth to gain sympathy.
But Ten would have none to give you either way. He feels that cuddling you right now is his right after being away all day, and all he really wants is to warm up with you in his arms. He thinks you're not being very cooperative about it.
"If you stopped trying to push me away we'd both warm up faster," he points out in a mumble. You groan at the logic. He is right, but you would still prefer to not share your blanket at all. You spent two hours warming it up, only for him to suck all the warmth away in two seconds.
"You're annoying, baby," you frown, although you're already pulling him a bit closer. You've accepted it. Since he won't give you a choice, you might as well do your best to create new warmth with him.
"You love cuddling me," Ten whispers. His cold hands sneak to clasp yours and he gives you a cheesy grin that has you rolling your eyes. He lets out a sound of protest and mock offense at the look, and you crack a giggle.
"I would enjoy it a bit more if you hadn't just taken a trip to the north pole."
"You're exaggerating."
Still, you let him cuddle closer until he gets fully comfortable. You're as intertwined as anyone could be after Ten snuck his leg over yours and now lies almost entirely on top of you. Although his body is still much colder than you would like, you've adjusted to the temperature difference now. You're starting to appreciate the closeness fully, tangling your hand in Ten's soft hair and listening to him ramble a bit about his latest schedules. Louis and Levi have found new spots to curl up near your feet, and slowly, you're starting to warm up again.
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★ Play date
By @yutaholic
10k, non-idol au, friends with benefits, being in love with your fwb, angst, smut, having hard conversations, marijuana use, tension
★ Sleepless Cinderella [Prologue] & Sleepless Cinderella [Ten]
By @starlightkun
4k & 13.8k, part of a series of one-shots, journalist reader, doctor Ten, interviewing him, angst, fluff, mentions of overdosing, emotional barriers, themes of death & depression, romance developing
★ It's purrfect
By @solaris-amethyst
0.9k, established relationship, non-idol au, meeting Ten's cats for the first time, assumptions, Ten doesn't realise reader is a cat person, fluff, slice of life
★ Cheers to us!
By @solaris-amethyst
1.6k, blind date, being set up by their parents, both are interested in dance, cat owners, romance, fluff, lots of flirting, attraction
★ Two houses
By @jaeminlore
1k, neighbour Ten, reader has family issues, reader's parents fight and yell a lot, slice of life, fluff, escaping over to Ten's, rather sweet
★ An opportunity
By @prettywordsyouleft
1.2k, college au, shitty exes, angst, fluff, Ten steps in when reader's ex is being a jerk, kind of humiliation from an ex, getting dinner together, getting to know one another
★ Coming clean
By @irregular-idol-imagines
300+, friends to lovers, mutual confessions, pining, fluff, humour, Ten's judgement and sarcasm
★ Masks [part 1] & [part 2]
By @irregular-idol-imagines
1.9k & 2.4k, royalty au, prince Ten, highish society reader, masked ball, hidden identities, meet cutes, slight distaste for their families, fluff, comedy
★ Warm my heart
By @ssweetreveries
1.8k, non-idol au, barista reader, regular at the coffee shop, fluffy, shitty exes, past relationship trauma, flirting, short & sweet
★ The perfect match
By @gyoobies
Ten x reader x Kun, polyamory, established relationship between Ten & Kun, café au, mutual interest in one another, smut, fluff, flirting, teasing
★ Ramé & drabble
By @flurrys-creativity
1.4k, djinn au, college au, Ten is a djinn, trouble maker Ten who grants dangerous wishes, romance, fluff, hint of jealousy, being at a party together
★ One more shot
By @all-about-kyu
5.3k, bartender Ten, visiting your childhood holiday destination, recently getting over heartbreak, drinking, reconnecting with a childhood friend, bi!Ten, fluff, angst, past feelings
★ It ends in blood & betrayal
By @restlessmaknae
11.4k, murder mystery au, chaebol daughter reader, rich Ten, reader's father is murdered, blood, stabbing, betrayal, drama, angst, forbidden romance between Ten & reader
★ Rebel rhapsody
By @restlessmaknae
5.4k, college au, rocker au, band au, reader getting dragged to a gig where they meet Ten, drama between the band members, friend conflicts, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst
★ One shot or game over
By @restlessmaknae
10k, university dance students Ten & reader, enemies to lovers, a Jumanji like plot, action, comedy, fluff, description of them loosing lives in the game, flirty Ten
★ Shot through the heart
By @restlessmaknae
2.6k, Camp Half-blood au, Greek mythology au, enemies to lovers, son of Aphrodite!Ten, daughter of Ares!reader, mentions of blood, innocent lives taken, reader is in denial
★ New year, same us
By @cigsaftersuh
Drabble, established relationship, new years eve event, writing each other letters for the year, slice of life, fluff, fireworks go off, really cute
★ Our angel
By @yuta-senpai
12.1k, WayV x reader (Kun, Ten, Winwin, Xiaojun, Hendery, Lucas, Yangyang), established relationship between Ten & reader, polyamory in some sense, 8some, straight up smut, pwp, choking
★ Sweet life
By @onlyforyoukook
1k, best friends, artist Ten, spending time at his studio, fluff, comforting mood, having a rough day, Ten helping reader sort through their emotions with paint
★ Out of the bag
By @lavenderbexlatte
1.3k, friends to lovers, accidental reveal of feelings, one of Ten's cats go missing, searching outside in the stormy weather, meddling Yangyang, finding his cats
★ Bother?
By @zeroseuniverse
0.5k, established relationship, late night setting, struggling to sleep, tossing and turning, moving out to the couch, slight insecurity, comforting from Ten, cuddling together
★ Be quiet (or not)
By @joocomics
0.9k, university au, Ten is the son of the dean of the university, exam stress, usage of sex toys, exhibition kink, light humiliation, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, smut
★ Yikes, date gone wrong, hoodie thieves, exam week pickup, we should get a cat and fridge magnets
By @suhnshinehaos
SMAU, university au, NCT96z & reader as roommates [Doyoung, Ten & Kun], one-shots, reader has a shitty ex, being stood up, slight implied Ten x reader, teasing, sharing clothes, fluff, slight angst
★ The unexpected
By @otptings
3k, college au, best friends (with benefits) to lovers, smut, down bad for each other, hooking up with others, reader is mentioned to have hook-ups with multiple other people (idols), marking, good friend Beomgyu
★ Ten + pizza
By @maknaesdancersrappers
Drabble, established relationship, making homemade pizzas together, soft domesticity, fluffy moments, Ten accidentally throws pizza dough at reader, cute, playful teasing, mention of T*il
★ All there
By @mejaemin
1k, friends to ??, bartender Ten, celebrating his birthday together, birthday surprises, Leon the cat is around, mentions of a rough work shift, late night discussions, fluffy
★ Texts with bsf!Ten
By @imhaechanshoe
SMAU, friends to lovers, mentions of getting together after a certain age as a backup, pining, down bad for each other, confessions, fluff, crossing the line of friends to lovers
★ An afternoon on the couch with Ten
By @haechnnie
2.3k, established relationship, slice of life, domesticity, cuddling together, smut, power play, needy & possessive Ten, dirty talk, unprotected sex, clingy nature, napping together
★ Well, ten is really a good teacher
By @lyvhie
Drabble, friends to lovers?, asking Ten for advice on how to flirt, fluff, crushing on each other, body language, building tension, flirting with one another, slight suggestive, kissing
เสียดาย ten returns to bangkok after nearly a decade of being in seoul, and there’s more changes to his home turf than he’s comfortable with... however, when one of them turns out to be a pretty girl his mother insisted he meets, he decides there are some changes he could adjust well to.
until he remembers why he doesn't ‘do’ falling in love.
warnings swearing, partying and alcohol consumption, mentions of job loss and sour familiar relations, gratuitous amounts of angst, i briefly diss jaehyun’s flat ass 😔 HEAVY suggestive content, like… heavy. allusions to sex, ten avoiding commitment and accountability like the man he is, depictions of post-nut clarity never before documented.
genre angst, romance, slooowburn, friends to ?, best friend’s older brother, unhappy ending, matchmaking au, idol!ten, chef!reader
word count 13.5k of 30.4k
notes part two to don’t delete the kisses! oh guys i seriously did u dirty with this ending…
IN APRIL, THE TWO of you spent a lot of time together, just you and Ten.
There had been sights he’d been meaning to see since he’d returned but had never been motivated enough to make the trip. Samut Prakan was a place you’d both agreed on wanting to see at some point during Ten’s rehab time, and it was one you finally had the budget for.
It was a two hour drive there with the infamous Thai traffic at large, and Ten had questioned how you’d be able to get the time off as your week off had long passed, but you’d reassured him that you’d be able to make the trip as one of your colleagues would be covering for you.
Ten had booked a small, rented out flat near city centre for the three days you’d be staying there—and he made sure to check with the owner that there was space to sleep two. He was not about to have a ‘two people but only one bed’ moment with you. Especially not when he couldn’t even sit through sleeping over at your place for one single night without thinking at least once about sticking his tongue down your throat with sheer need.
The day was spent looking over places to go, as you’d arrived mid morning and still had time to tour around the city. Ten insisted on visiting Imperial World first, claiming retail therapy was the best way to start off a trip.
“What do you want for dinner?”
Your voice didn’t reach very far, but still got to Ten, who was standing a few paces away, shopping bags hanging off his arms as he browsed a grocery rack.
The fluorescent lights made his blue-black hair shine, made his form so much more visible beneath his loose-fitting clothes. You wished to crucify yourself for even noticing, and your cheeks burnt with an emotion that could only be compared to religious guilt.
He hummed, his lips forming a thoughtful pout as he picked up a sheet of nori paper.
“I’m feeling sushi tonight,” he said, finally turning to face you.
You nodded, trying to think of what you could say in response. Truthfully, you’d wanted to offer to make dinner for Ten as a thank you for bringing you along on his trip, but you couldn’t make sushi, or, at least, had never tried to—and you assumed he hadn’t, either.
“You?” your friend asked.
You shrugged. “Sushi’s good.” You took the packet of nori sheets he was holding, turning it over in your hands. “I’ve just... never made sushi before.”
Ten raised a brow. “I thought you graduated top of your class and work in a super fancy restaurant?” he asked, teasing.
“Neither of which specialise in Japanese food,” you replied flatly.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I’ve never made it, either. Why don’t we go out for sushi?”
You shrugged. You hadn’t had sushi in a while, so it would certainly be a nice spoil. “I suppose… given the fact that we’re ‘away,’ we can splurge on food.”
Ten had a moment of thankfulness over the fact that you’d agreed. He’d cooked with you before, and it had been far too intimate for him to handle. A restaurant would be better—sitting across from each other, gazes focused on your own food… until a waiter came, and your focus was broken, and his eyes would travel to yours, and he’d attempt to swallow a lump in his throat, but that would be all, and you’d be able to go back to you rented flat and your separate rooms in peace.
A restaurant would definitely be better for his sanity.
“Okay, but before we go, I want to go buy a new pair of jeans,” Ten said, holding up a slender, authoritative digit.
You frowned. “You’ve already packed two pairs,” you replied absently, attention having been drawn to a jar of peculiarly pickled vegetables. “And we’ve just gone shopping."
Ten shook his head. “First rule of vacationing, newbie: you can never shop enough.”
Amazingly enough, the restaurant wasn’t too crowded when you arrived. It was a small building, lit warmly with paper lanterns. Paintings lined the black walls, and the sheer yellow lights shone softly above them. The two of you found a booth in a relatively secluded area at the back of the restaurant, and both of you wondered why the hell the other would choose to sit there, in the near dark, with only a single, sensual candle lighting the table.
What the hell is he thinking? you thought as he pointed at the faraway table and you nodded.
While Ten thought, Why the hell would she agree with me? while pulling out a chair for you.
Once you placed your orders and your waiter left to relay your wishes to the chefs, you and your friend sat in silence for a few moments, you toying with your chopsticks, and Ten trying his best to focus on the painting behind you.
A painting of a royal wedding.
“I just want to say…” Ten repressed an animated gulp. “Thanks for coming here with me. I didn’t know if it would be possible, but… I’m glad it turned out to be manageable for you.”
You smiled, and it was as if all prior tension melted away whenever you did. “I’m always keen on visiting new places, Ten. Especially places like this. I’ve been meaning to visit, but…” you shrugged. “Never really had the time. Being a chef is a surprisingly busy occupation.”
Ten chuckled. “Yeah, no shit. Don’t you work from, what, five to ten?”
“If I’m lucky,” you joked. “Sometimes I come home at three in the morning. But I’ve gotten used to it,” you added. “Besides, being awake at three AM has its perks.”
He raised a brow. “Like?”
“Like… being able to talk to you, because you’rs always awake in the early mornings,” you pointed out. “And—well, that’s pretty much the only perk.. but it’s a good one!”
Ten smiled lightly, and his heart shuddered. He knew at the back of his mind that you enjoyed talking to him. Of course, you’d never have picked up his calls even while you were exhausted if he bored you. But, something about hearing from you, listening as the words spilled from your pretty lips, that you liked talking to him, that you valued his company even when you hadn’t slept properly in two days?
God, Ten didn’t know why that was such a big deal for him. It’s not like hemd never heard it from a girl before. It’s not like he’d never been in a relationship like this before, full of feelings and love and talking above a physical connection. And yet… this felt ten times worse, because you weren’t even in a romantic relationship. You talked this much, spent this much time together, while being ‘just friends.’ You wanted to be around him without wanting something in return, and that was enough to make Ten want to run far, far away.
Far away from any possible feelings he may or may not have had for you.
Which he didn’t.
Because he didn’t like you like that.
Your food and drinks came, and Ten silently thanked the waiter for the very needed distraction. You ate in silence, only exchanging light conversation in between. Ten complained that the wasabi wasn’t spicy enough, and you smartly supplied that most wasabi in Japanese restaurants was made with horseradish, and that the real thing was often too expensive to manufacture en masse.
“I thought you weren’t a trained sushi chef?” Ten joked, raising a brow.
You deadpanned. “The horseradish fact is common knowledge, Ten.”
He took a sip of his sake. “Yeah, sure.”
The rest of the night passed by in a blur. When ten paid for dinner, you took a taxi back to your rented flat, and Ten immediately plopped in front of the television after slipping into his nightclothes. A black tee and shorts that wrapped around his lithe thighs a certain way, not that you were looking.
You sat down next to him while he scrolled through Netflix (how was it that nearly every television had it?) and settled on Summer Strike again. Ten was in the mood for seeing his spirit animal on screen. Last time the two of you had watched together, you’d gotten to the fifth episode, just after Bom had ended up in the hospital.
“I’ve been lying to you,” you confessed at one point, eyes trained to the screen. You itched to turn to Ten while his attention was elsewhere, but thought better of it.
Ten turned to you, a question on the tip of his tongue. “What?” was the only thing he trusted himself to ask. The possibilities of what your next words could be made his heart stop.
You stayed silent for too long.
“I got fired,” was your eventual answer. “All this time I’ve been telling you I got time off—that was a lie. The restaurant is closing down, and I got fired.”
Thank God.
Was what Ten thought when he realised you weren’t planning on confessing anything terribly serious to him, of course. It was terrible that you’d been fired, but...
“Why’s it closing down?” he asked softly.
You shrugged. God, you looked sad. Ten didn’t like seeing you sad. “That’s just how life goes. People stop visiting, things get too expensive to maintain... then restaurants close down.”
And Ten knew how much you’d enjoyed working there. You’d told him that was the first restaurant you’d worked at after quitting the catering job, that it was your first ‘fancy’ job.
“Oh… C’mere.”
Ten hadn’t hugged you a lot in your past few months of friendship. You just weren’t someone who was keen on skinship. But when you did allow him to hug you, your arms looping around his shoulders, your cheek coming to rest in the crook of his neck, spreading coldness across his warm skin, your hair tickling his chin... it felt like he was falling, like he’d just jumped from incredible heights. He pressed a quiet, chaste kiss to his top of your head, squeezing you tighter in his arms.
Neither of you slept easy that night. You tossed and turned in your bed, your head filled with worries of your future, of work, of people you currently called friends with great hesitation. Ten lay awake, staring at his whitewashed ceiling, wondering why he felt the same way he had when he’d gone bungee jumping for the first time.
The next few days were spent walking through streets and browsing through markets, visiting temples and snapping pictures with digital cameras.
Your nights were spent splayed across the navy couch in your rented unit, attention solely on the screen in front of you... and maybe the man in his pyjamas next to you.
As you drove back to Bangkok on the evening of the last day, back to Ten’s home, the older man thought back on how his life had become ever since he’d met you. The past few months had been spent travelling and spending time together, and it had been a few months in which ten had enjoyed himself greatly.
It had been a few months in which he’d enjoyed himself more than he had in a while.
“I’m an introvert, but I party like an extrovert.”
Those were words Ten would only say a few months down the line, but they’re words you lived through in the lovely month of may.
You didn’t do clubbing. It simply was not of much importance to you, nor could it ever have been, given how much time you’d previously dedicated to your work. But, due to the abrupt changes in circumstance, you’d been given the opportunity to finally make it a point of importance, much to your chagrin.
Ten was drunk. As in, incredibly drunk. You presumed he’d done some solo pre-gaming before arriving at the club with you, and had only built on that once he stumbled his way over to the bar, slurring his order to the bartender.
That was about three drinks ago.
Now, your friend had occupied himself by jumping onto the dance floor, swaying his hips in time with the music, smiling drunkenly at the cheers he received.
Even while inebriated, he was good at it. Dancing. He seemed to let the music take over his whole body, take control of his soul, making for a particularly enticing show to watch from your spot at the bar.
You, too, were drunk. By a large margin, not nearly as much as Ten. You were at the point where you didn’t stumble where you walked, but you had to think twice about whether you were falling asleep or if your eyes were simply drooping. You were seated by the bar, exchanging menial chatter with the bartender while casting fond glances in your friend’s direction.
“How long have you two been together?” she asked, nodding in Ten’s direction.
And like the Han river in winter, you froze over.
You looked down into your glass, the sharp smell of the alcohol overwhelming your senses. “We... we’re not dating,” you told her. You smiled tightly up at her, shaking your head. “Just friends.”
The bartender had given you a look, as if saying, ‘If you say so,’ before turning to another customer who'd lined up next to you with an order sitting on the tip of their tongue.
Your heartbeat was hammering in your eardrums.
The music in the club was unintelligible; you couldn’t make out the lyrics between the bass and the DJ mixing in other songs on top of all that. All you could make out was a faster, dreamy beat that had Ten whipping his head in your direction and holding out his arms to you.
You shook your head.
“Ten, I can’t dance,” you confessed, your cheeks growing hot under his gaze.
He smiled.
His smile only widened. “You don’t have to know how. Just dance with me. Please.”
The feeling of his hand slipping into yours for the second time was something you’d never forget, even years down the line.
His smile was easy as he twirled you around in his hold, one hand securely holding your hip, slender fingers splayed over the warm skin. He was behind you, then he’d be in front of you, letting go of your hip and then grabbing hold of it again.
It was like it was just the two of you, bathed in the red light of the dance floor.
Ten’s eyes were on you all throughout the song, unmoving when someone almost bumped into him, distant when someone else asked him to dance. He merely said no, his eyes still on yours. Throughout the entire four minutes that song played, you were frozen, only momentarily moving when Ten took things into his own hands and moved with you, swaying both of your hips to the beat, bumping his forehead with yours as he moved closer.
His breath smelled of the sweet liquor he’d taken long sips of earlier. His hair felt soft and smelled like the shampoo he always used. His lips looked velvety, smooth to the touch. They came so close, whispering a hushed thanks in your ear the same way they did a month ago.
The feeling of being in his arms, looping around your body, his fingers trailing down your waist all the way to your hip—
“You’re a great friend,” Ten said softly, his lips plush against a glass of liquor he’d purchased as soon as you went to sit down again. “None of my other friends ever want to go clubbing with me.”
If you act the same way you did with me, your brain said to itself, I can easily see why.
Instead of responding to his soft-spoken words, you smiled, trying to take the drink out of his hands. “Ten,” you tried. “You’re drunk. You can’t drink any more than you already have.”
He scoffed. His smile was teasing. “For your information, I know that I’m drunk, Mum. What I also know is that I’m twenty seven, and can therefore drink as much as I damn please,” he added, as he made a grab for the glass.
You leaned out of his reach. “And what I know is that you’re sure to be a pain when you're shitfaced, and as the person who has to take care of you in the morning, I don’t much feel like dealing with that side of you when it’s preventable.”
“You’re so mature,” Ten scoffed, almost like it was an insult.
You raised a brow. “Should I not be?”
“No, you shouldn't.” He pulled a face, and it took you a moment to realise he was pouting. Cute. “You make it so hard to hate you. Y—you’re mature, you’re selfless—” he hiccuped, expression becoming annoyed— “and you’re smart, too. You’re so damn smart it makes me sick.”
You froze, a bit caught off guard by the nature of his words. He was saying it was difficult to hate you—was that a compliment, an insult, or some secret third thing you didn’t know about?
“I’m terribly sorry that I’m not a hateable person to you,” you said softly.
You couldn’t help but smile, couldn’t help but think how cute Ten looked like this. God, you should not have started drinking.
“I’ll try harder to make you hate me.”
“I hate you.”
Ten’s narrowed eyes met yours as the light to your living room was flicked on, invading his deep drunken slumber. You’d strolled into the room carrying a breakfast tray, sleep still clouding your features, before turning on the light and subsequently waking the sleeping beast.
“I know,” was all you said as you set the tray down onto your coffee table, placing it in front of your friend. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching his arms over his head, shivering a bit from the action.
He stared at the tray for a while, unmoving even when you took one of the cups from it and sat down next to him.
“You made breakfast.”
This wasn’t the first time you'd cooked for ten. Of course, you were a chef. It was literally your job—not to mention, one you loved doing. But Tern had once told him that getting you to cook for someone outside of a restaurant kitchen was as difficult as getting Ten to put on a show without getting paid the thirty six dollars he worked so hard for.
Sure, you’d cooked with him, helped him those few times you came over to his parents’ for dinner, but that was mostly because Ten didn’t know the first thing about cooking properly and, well, you did.
And yet, right before his droopy eyes, was a tray full of food meant for his consumption. Rice, eggs (just the way he liked them, no less), bacon, and even pancakes. Hotteok, a Korean food he'd mentioned craving in passing. Your area of expertise wasn’t even Korean food and yet, he mentioned craving it, and you made it. There was a cup of coffee set next to the plate, light brown and sweet to the taste-/just the way he liked it—and next to the food lay a bottle of Chinese herbal medicine supposed to help with headaches.
You didn’t mention anything, merely crossing your legs from your spot next to him and drinking your tea like it was nothing.
Like you hadn’t just given him breakfast in bed, like you hadn't just done the most romantic and intimate thing a person could do for someone who was, upon wordless prior agreement, only supposed to be your friend.
You nodded in response to his words. “Food helps with hangovers,” you said simply. “And you said you’d been craving these.” You then gestured loosely to the hotteok, shrugging. “So I made you breakfast.”
When he didn’t respond, you asked, “There’s nothing... wrong with me making you breakfast, is there?”
The way you asked it, sounding so genuine in your concern—it made Ten want to scream. He just couldn't figure you out. One moment, you’re acting all shy and repressed, freezing up when the tips of his fingers lingered too long, came too close—and then all of a sudden you’re acting indifferent and dispassionate like you did when you'd first met him. All of a sudden you’ve gone back to your blunt, honest self.
Ten was supposed to be the emotionally distant one, switching up whenever he pleased. He was supposed to be the one infuriating you for how you couldn’t figure him out. He was supposed to be the one confusing you, making you question your sanity. Ten didn’t much like being on the receiving of this equation when he was usually the one giving.
“No,” Ten forced himself to say. “Just a little... intimate, don’t you think?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think.” Standing up from your spot, you said, “I made you breakfast because you haven’t eaten anything since five PM yesterday and I don’t want you to die on my couch, not because I’m in love with you or because I want to sleep with you. Now, eat. Please.”
Ten left your flat at eight thirty in the morning, right after finishing his breakfast and wishing you a hushed thanks. He’d all but raced out of there, not caring that he hadn’t yet brushed his teeth, that he hadn’t changed out of the previous night's clothes, that his cheeks were burning pink as he left your apartment building.
You didn’t seem to be bothered by his sudden change in attitude, seeming caught up in your own problems. Ten yearned to ask out about them, to try and make them better and take the concerned crease from your brows, but he was at such a conflict of interest he feared his head would burst open if he spent another moment in the pheromone-infested spider’s den that was your home. The smell of your scented candles, the incense that burnt early in the morning, the soft, summery scent of your Enlee perfume that still haunted his dreams, the smell of coffee and tea and all sorts of mild spices... it would’ve driven him insane.
Yangyang had tried to call him twenty times throughout the night, despite Ten not having any memory of his phone buzzing or his special ringtone going off. Then again, he hadn’t remembered going home with you and yet he’d woken up on your couch, curled up in your soft blankets.
He only called his friend back once he made it back to his parents’ house, seated on the couch after surviving an onslaught of kisses and questions from his mother. She’d become accustomed to Ten staying out late at night, but the case of him spending the night at your place had only occurred once, excluding today.
“Oh, my God, he’s alive!”
Ten scoffed as Yangyang’s voice crackled to life through his phone speakers, the younger man laughing in mock glee as soon as he’d picked up the phone.
“I don’t remember you being such a pain in the ass when we were roommates,” Ten grumbled. “Is this a new development?”
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” was all Yangyang replied, smiling. Ten could almost see it through the phone.
“Whatever you say,” Ten murmured. “Why did you call me twenty times last night? Not to mention why you left me sixteen voicemails of you yelling incoherent shit in Chinese. Should I be worried?”
“No,” Yangyang said immediately, “I don’t think so...? Wait—did I call you last night?”
“Twenty times,” Ten reaffirmed, nodding.
“I’m sure all of them were for a perfectly logical reason,” Yangyang said. “Just like there had to be a good reason as to why I sent you sixteen voicemails of me screaming... but I’m currently too hungover to remember just what those reasons are.”
Before Ten could respond, Yangyang made a noise—the same one he always made when he remembered whatever he wanted to say.
“Oh! Our manager wanted me to call you to tell you that they’re sending over a filming crew in June,” he said. “We’re gearing up for a comeback and they wanted to film your trailer in Thailand.”
Ten frowned, sitting up straighter in his spot. “Comeback? Us? When? Where? Wh—why the fuck am I only finding out about this now?”
“Relax, Jesus,” Yangyang sighed. “The comeback is only in August. Didn’t you get the email SM sent you last night? We all got one.”
Quickly switching from his call to his personal email account, Yangyang still waiting for his response, Ten refreshed his emails until a letter popped up in bold, titled, NCT NATION 2023.
15 MAY, 17.00 KST
TO: NCT
FROM: SM Creative Department
Evening, members of NCT.
In celebration of seven years of Neo Culture Technology as an active group, SM Entertainment has decided to have a full-group comeback during August 2023, as well as a concert that will be taking place in Incheon, Munhak Stadium, August 26th at 06.00 PM.
While the album is still in beta, it is estimated that it will consist of nine songs featuring unique member lineups that will be written with the aid of our trusted songwriters as well as you, the members of NCT.
Part of the album preparation will be member trailers, each showcasing a member’s unique environment that perfectly captures their essence as an artist and their place in the group. Ten out of twenty members have already filmed their trailers earlier in the year, however members TEN, JOHNNY, WINWIN, YANGYANG, KUN, JENO, YUTA, HAECHAN, JISUNG, and CHENLE still need to have their trailers filmed.
“More information will be released between the end of this month up until June 30th,” Ten read from the email, his frown fading. “Best regards, Lee Sooman and the SM creative team."
Okay, so it wasn’t like he’d missed something major. Still, it felt... odd, being so far from the situation. Ten was usually one of the first to know about comebacks, and even though this had been a recent development, he felt like he was the last to know. He felt like he’d... missed something, almost, because he was too busy living in the moment, too busy caring about his own semiromantic drama that he’d missed an important announcement that had to do with the job he so loved doing.
Almost as if reading his senior’s thoughts, Yangyang hummed, saying, “You didn’t miss anything too major. The creative team just told me to tell you about the filming crew, since they didn’t want you to fly out with your injury.”
Right. His injury.
Almost as if on command, a pain flared up in Ten’s knee, making him hiss in discomfort. It had been doing alright as of late, and he’d dropped the crutches way back in March, however he suspected his dancing queen moment last night must’ve set him back a few weeks.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ten said distractedly, “That— that makes sense. I’ll be ready when they come.”
Yangyang nodded before remembering Ten couldn’t see him through the screen.
“So how’s it been, Ten hyung?” he asked. “I know we talked yesterday morning, but… I don’t know, I’ve lately been feeling like you’re holding back on me. You’re not telling me everything."
Ten chuckled. “Yangyang, I wouldn’t lie to you for no reason like that. My name isn’t Nakamoto Yuta, professional pathological liar.”
“But your name is Ten Lee, professional emotional torture artist,” his junior replied.
Ten rolled his eyes. “Okay, now you’re reading into this way too much. If there was a problem, I’d tell you. I won’t ever, ever keep something from you like that."
“…If you say so, Ten.”
The rest of the month passed by in a pleasant haze, as the atmosphere between yourself and Ten had gone somewhat untouched, briefly going back to the way it was before Ten started denying his pesky feelings getting involved.
Your relationship was difficult to describe, in the way it was ever changing. Some days, it was like how you’d been when you’d first met, pleasant and polite, with the slight air of preconceived personas coming through. Other days, it was easy, comfortable, the way it had been around the two month mark. And other days, other nights, there was something so... vulnerable in the way you thought of one another. Something so vulnerable in the way your hearts ached and yet you didn’t dare to tell the other in fear of that ache not being returned.
Ten had found somewhat of a sweet spot in his long time hanging out with you, to perfectly avoid that vulnerable, sinful window of doubt and lust he found himself in. He just needed to follow the old How I Met Your Mother rule:
Nothing good happens after 2 AM.
Ever since he’d remembered that integral rule, it had been smooth sailing with you. There were no more soft-spoken phone calls at three in the morning, no more breakfasts in bed, no more dances that made the inside of his legs ache with want. He only saw you during the day, sometimes pushing it and having dinner with you. But he always left before the clock struck twelve, always said his sweet goodbyes with a promise to see you the next day.
In his mind, he was doing everything right. Too much time together made his mind hazy, and too much time apart made his heart ache. He’d found the perfect balance of time spent together, and time spent apart.
But that didn’t mean it all went according to plan. After all, Ten wasn’t the only one in this relationship.
Your feet swung off the edge of the deck, fingers scraping off the label of the drink in your hands. Your feet occasionally dipped into the cold water, disappearing into the inky black liquid, before you pulled them out again, crossing your legs and starting up your conversation again.
A tank top hung off Ten’s shoulders, revealing the crescent moon tattoo he’d had done a few years prior. It was once a scar, a reminder of another obstacle he’d overcome, before he decided to turn it into something more beautiful, more meaningful.
“When did you get your first tattoo?”
It was your soft voice that pulled ten from his reverie, making his head turn to you with an easy smile ready. He hummed. He always looked like a mischievous cat when he smiled like that, almost like a cheshire cat smiling down at you through the moon's rays.
“Let’s see,” he started. “I got my first tattoo two years after I debuted in NCT, when I was twenty two. It was... this one.”
He lifted the flowy material of his shirt, revealing the tattoo he’d had done on his chest. You’d seen it a few times, but had never been so brave as to ask about it; that would mean you’d indirectly have to admit to staring at your friend’s bare chest more than a few times.
It was a crescent moon, the edge spiked with thorns, a star hanging off the bottom. The once fine lines had faded into his skin a bit, making the once sharp edges appear softer on his bronze skin.
“I had heart surgery as a baby,” Ten explained. “It had left a sizeable scar here just above my heart. It was visible every time I took off my shirt. So I decided to make it prettier.” He finally looked up at you, his eyes soft as his tone of voice. “It symbolised an obstacle I overcame. The scar served as a reminder of how strong I was... and I wanted to treat that as a work of art.”
You stared at the inked art still, your eyes fixated on the soft spot of skin your friend cared to reveal to you.
“Now, what about you?” he asked. “Any tattoos? Any first tattoos I would want to know about?”
You nodded, not taking much time to process his request. You twisted your arm, revealing a spot you’d had done about a year ago.
In a scrawled font Ten recognised as his sister’s handwriting, surrounded by little stardrop doodles, the delicate scripture revealed a message that had him frowning a bit due to his lack of context.
Wave.
“It’s stupid,” you dismissed once you saw him frown. “The full quote is ‘new wave’—uh, Tern has the other half of the message tattooed on her other arm so that the words mirror each other. It… it’s my first and only tattoo. Tern and I had it done about six months into our friendship after we got a bit drunk and emotional about some things that had happened in the past. It.. Well, I’m not good at explaining it, but it symbolises us as the new generation, the new wave in the ocean that is a multigenerational society.”
Ten nodded along to your explanation, his eyes softening as you revealed the true meaning behind the cute scrawl. Part of him was surprised you got his sister to get a tattoo with you, but a bigger part of him felt his heart swell with affection. His mother wasn’t wrong when she said you had similar outlooks on life.
“I don’t think it's stupid,” Ten said, softly tracing the words embedded into your skin. “I’m more surprised you got my ever traditional sister to get a tattoo.”
You chuckled. “It was Tern who suggested it, actually.”
Ten’s eyes widened. “Really? Damn... things really have changed since I left."
Your arms dropped back to your sides, the tips of your fingers softly landing on his knuckles. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugged. “Just... a lot of things. My sister never used to be as unconventional as she is now. My mother and father never spent their days instigating my dating life—or, at least, my dad never did. Thailand never used to be this hot. I never used to be this…”
He shook his head, smiling. “Just small things like that, you know? Small things that remind me just how long I’ve been away."
You hummed, your expression falling back into indifference like it had been before. Ten feared he was the cause of that, and silently wished he’d kept the atmosphere light.
“Mm... well, I’m glad you’re back,” you said. “Even if only for a few months. It’s nice to be in the same place at the same time as you.”
God, Ten hated when you did that.
When your gaze on him became so soft, when your words became profound and saccharine as your smile, when your lips became that much more kissable. He hated when you did that, because it made him feel ready to throw away all the work he’d put into not falling in love with you.
“It’s crazy we’ve known each other for so long, isn’t it?” Ten found himself asking, eyes fixated on your lips. So soft. So pillowy. So inviting. “I came here in February, and it’s been, what, three? four months that we’ve known each other.”
Three months, two weeks, three days, four hours and twenty six minutes.
You nodded, not swayed by his sudden change in subject. “I remember how you didn’t want to interact with me at all in the beginning. You even hid from me the first time I saw you,” you said simply.
Ten groaned, smiling in embarrassment. “Don’t you dare remind me. My mom kept talking about you and how cool she thought you were. I never expected her to be right!”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “You didn’t even get half of the hyping up that I got. From the moment your mom knew more than my name, she was talking about how well we’d hit it off and how I’d surely sweep you off your feet."
“And look where we are,” Ten said. “Three months later, and we’re the best of friends.”
“No offence,” you said, “but I already have one Leechaiyapornkul sibling playing the role of best friend, and I’d rather offend you than Tern.”
He smiled, rolling his eyes heavenwards. He knew you were joking. Your friendship meant as much to you as it did to him. After all, you’d have long dropped him if your late night walks and deep talks didn’t bring you joy.
“I really do respect them,” you said eventually. “Your family, I mean,” you added, to avoid any misunderstanding. You leaned back a bit, and Ten caught himself staring at your tattoo, now aware of where it was. “They’ve become something of a family to me in my time here. And it’s not like I’m saying I took your place or anything.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “I just came here... completely alone. Really, I had absolutely no one. No friends from school, no boyfriend, no family contact. Nothing. I only had my shitty job and a shitty flat. But when I met your sister, when we became friends—that’s when it felt like my new life here had finally started. When I met your parents, it felt like I was finally able to settle down here.”
He never did say it, but he understood what you were trying to express. He’d felt the same way when he’d moved to Korea. He had been completely alone, not understanding a word of what was spoken around him, never having the opportunity to talk to his family, to go back to a comfortable familiar. And then Taeyong had walked into his life, invited him to a special place in his heart, dragging a band of misfits behind him.
“If I’m being honest, I don’t think my mom would mind you actually being in our family,” Ten said dryly. “You’d be like the third child she’d always wanted.”
You smiled, still fiddling with the label of your drink, softened by the condensation on the bottle. “I wouldn’t mind being in your family, either. You’re all some of the best people I’ve ever met."
“What, Mum and Dad give you a hard time back home?” Ten joked.
When your expression twisted into something morose, Ten wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He instantly wanted to say something, longed to take away the pain he’d caused you.
“I don’t want to go into detail,” was all you said. “If that’s okay with you?”
You stayed like that for a while, just looking at him, your eyes expectant as if truly waiting for his permission on the matter.
“Of course it’s okay with me,” he breathed. “I’m— I’m sorry I ever said anything.” He was honest, sincere.
“Don’t be,” you replied softly. “Don’t ever be sorry for not knowing something I could’ve told you.”
“Do you speak Mandarin?”
You started a bit at Ten’s sudden words, turning to look at him, brow raised over your reading glasses, freshly rinsed scallions still in your hands.
“My mom once told me you speak four languages,” Ten explained, eyes still trained on the vegetables he was chopping, almost sensing your confusion. “I was just curious which languages you spoke.”
“Oh.”
Turning back to the basin, tossing more scallions under the water, you said, “Yes, I speak mandarin. I speak five languages, though. Not four.”
Ten perked up. “Really?”
You nodded. “Mhm. There’s Thai, of course, since I live here. Mandarin, because for the first six months of culinary school I lived in a neighbourhood with a big Chinese population and had to get around. Thai sign language, because one of my first roommates here was hearing impaired and couldn’t read lips too well. English, because I was required to learn it in school, and…”
Your native language, of course.
“That’s... really impressive,” Ten breathed. “I only speak five languages because my company tells me I have to.”
You turned to him, handing him more vegetables to cut. “Don’t sell yourself short, Ten. Five languages is still five languages. You sing and speak in, what, your third, fourth, and fifth languages? That’s incredibly impressive, no matter who tells you what to learn. Your ability is certainly not any less because our learning circumstances are different, so don’t let me sense you trying to pass it off as such.”
At the last sentence, Ten’s mother strolled into the kitchen, looking like she was eager for a piece of gossip.
It was the beginning of the new month, and Ten and yourself had taken it upon yourselves to prepare a dinner for Ten’s family in celebration of the new month. Tern and her boyfriend had also been invited, and though the beginning of a new month wasn’t really that good of an excuse to throw a dinner party, you could tell Ten’s mother enjoyed having her family all together for one night.
“What are we talking about?” the older woman asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
Ten smiled, his cheeks still warm from your previous little rant. “Nothing, Mum. Just... multilingual stuff.”
“Oh, I’ve always been impressed by how smart the both of you are,” Mrs Leechaiyapornkul said, ready to lay the flattery on thick. “Speaking so many languages like that—only geniuses can do that!”
Ten raised a brow. “I suppose the delinquents I live with must also be geniuses in your book, Mum.”
She nodded. “Of course they are! Especially your younger friend, Huang Renjun. He’s so incredibly respectful, too—has a very good idea of what it means to keep face.”
You, ever unaware of Mrs Leechaiyapornkul’s obsession with Ten’s younger member, sent a questioning glance in his direction, to which your friend simply shook his head.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, the hours it took you and Ten to complete dinner and the minutes it took you to settle down at the table all blending together into one big montage. You sat next to Tern and her boyfriend at the dinner table, while Ten sat across from you next to their mother, while Mr Leechaiyapornkul was seated at the head of the table.
The evening passed by in a pleasant haze, filled with deep conversations and genuine smiles. It became late before you actually realised how much time you’d spent at the Leechaiyapornkul house, and you realised that you’d surely need to head home if you still wanted to make it before it got completely dark.
“Oh, don’t worry about that!” Mrs Leechaiyapornkul dismissed. “You can sleep over, no? Ten and Tern are spending the night as well!”
“Mum, I live here,” Ten chuckled.
Internally, he was losing his shit. He was depending on you going home early to keep his sanity intact. All this close proximity was making him burn up, was making him become lovelorn and heartfelt again. He didn’t want to act on any emotions that had only been brought on because you were the only woman currently closest to him—or something pathetically-thought-out along those same lines.
You, amazingly, were feeling the exact same. Except, instead of thinking you’d do something you regret simply because Ten was the only man currently closest to you, you feared you’d act on the emotions you knew Ten stirred in you. You knew yourself too well to trust yourself around him.
It was an absolute miracle how you kept it together the two times he’d slept over.
“I really can’t stay, Mrs Lee,” you smiled. “I have a handful of responsibilities at home, and I feel like I’ve imposed on your family time quite enough as is.”
Ten’s mother looked in the mood to argue, but she kept her steady smile and let you excuse yourself for the night. Her only request was that Ten see you off.
“Sorry about her,” Ten said, leading you down the steps back to your car. “You know that whenever you’re around, she gets a bit... matchmake-y.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “That’s no problem for me. I— I’d have loved to stay over, but I really do have a bunch of things to do at home. I wasn’t lying."
“Good night,” was all he said, opening your car door and helping you inside. Then, a whisper, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, okay? I’ll see you soon."
In Ten’s mind, he was simply doing what you were doing—being kind, and being sexy while doing it.
In your mind, one that had never used your niceness as an ulterior motive, big red alarms titled ‘feelings’ were going off. They were going off hard.
Baggy Jeans sounded like shit.
Later into June, SM Entertainment scheduled several Zoom meetings between Ten and the members, and he spent hours with them and the songwriters on lyrics, and extra hours with the choreographers. Today’s meeting was hearing the demo for the comeback’s title track, Baggy Jeans.
It, as he said before, sounded like shit.
He supposed with Korean lyrics and better sounding voices the song wouldn’t sound too bad, but with this current version, the one they had to sit through? It was a massive, steaming hot mess.
Ten sat through those three minutes with an expressionless face, his hands covering his mouth so as to stop himself from word vomiting on the poor songwriters.
Taeyong, on the other hand, was loving it.
“This is it,” he said after the first two seconds of the song started playing. “This is our title track.”
After the demo listening, Ten had a meeting with Taeyong, Dongyoung, Jaehyun, Mark, and their choreographer. The aforementioned six were all in NCT’s practice room, while Ten was back in Thailand at his personal work desk. Part of him felt like these zoom meetings were just to include him in the process. After all, he only needed to record his lines and he was perfectly capable of memorising several choreographies in a month.
It felt nice, though, to be back in his old work environment. He liked taking notes again, and he liked seeing his members again, even if it was just through a computer screen. He felt at home in environments like these, where his friends were present and he wasn’t always on the verge of his brain and heart exploding due to internal sexual and romantic conflict.
“I think, on the second beat of the verse, rather than that, we should do the first move we discussed,” Ten said as the choreographer nodded along to his points, agreeing.
“So, like, instead of ta-ta-ta,” said Mark, mimicking the new move they came up with, his form visible from where they’d set up the laptop in one of the company’s practice rooms, “we do ta-ta-ta?” then he did the first move they'd discussed.
“Perfect,” was all Ten needed to say, giving the younger man a thumbs up.
Taeyong nodded, parroting the move. “I think we should keep most of our original ideas for the choreography. It seems more us. More authentic, you know?”
Jaehyun laughed. “You think this—” he whirled around, mimicking the ass grab move his leader had suggested— “is us?”
Ten had laughed along with him, the light sounds bubbling in his throat. It lasted for a bit, him just bundled up in his hoodie in his home office laughing at how Jaehyun had grabbed his ass. Or, Ten thought, laughing harder at the mere thought, the crevice in his pants that wouldn’t’ve been there if he’d actually had an ass to grab.
After the 7th Sense unit meeting, Ten had a sitdown with SM’s creative team. Like with the rest of the Zoom calls, their computer was set up in one of SM’s conference rooms, while Ten’s was set up on his personal desk at home.
“We were brainstorming possible places where we could film your trailer,” said Areum, one of the creative execs. “Do you have any ideas, Ten?”
Ten looked down at his notebook, staring at the nearly blank page. He’d written down only two places: Samut Prakan, and The Maharaj.
Samut Prakan, the city where he once spent a day with you. Or The Maharaj.
The Maharaj was an expensive, high-end restaurant near the Chao Phraya river, a place where Ten had previously spent a lot of time. It was surrounded by beautiful, beautiful sites. Rama VIII bridge, Wat Phra Kaew, Wat Arun...
“Do you have any ideas, Ten?”
“You know where The Maharaj is?”
It was late. Very late.
Ten had spent his entire day on a boat, dealing with filming crews, managers, making calls, taking them. He’d been in the middle of filming a shot when an exec had said “Time out!” to take a call.
He leaned against the balcony of the aforementioned restaurant, and had previously been filming bits of his trailer there, going back and forth between there and the boat the crew had rented for the day. His phone was pressed to his ear, and there was an easy smile on his face.
That could only mean one thing.
“Of course I know where The Maharaj is,” you answered, making your way down the steps that ran next to the Chao Phraya river, the low, warm lights of surrounding buildings far outshone by the temple of the Emerald Buddha. “Every chef in Thailand knows and dreams about that place.”
“Oh.”
And here Ten was, thinking he’d be able to show you something magnificent.
Part of him forgets you’d lived in Thailand for half a decade by this point.
“Well, I’m right by the second floor balcony,” he said, turning so that he was looking down at the ground beneath him, noticing passersby and hoping to catch a glimpse of you. “Just look up when you get here.”
“Won’t the filming crew stop me before I get there?” you asked. Last you’d checked, K-pop staff took their job as idols’ protectors very seriously, and you weren’t much in the mood to get tackled into a river by one of Ten’s crewmen.
You made your way through a small crowd of people, all holding large cameras and big furry mics that you’d only seen on radio shows before. They seemed to pay you no mind, which confused you.
“I told them I was expecting a guest.”
You stopped at how near his voice now sounded. Looking up, you saw Ten staring down at you, warm light from the restaurant enveloping him and shining around him like a halo. The white tank top he wore was loose-fitting, showcasing all the lovely little doodles placed expertly over his body. He’d shrugged on a flowy white button down, and the jeans he wore were those he’d bought while shopping with you a few weeks prior.
He merely smiled when you didn’t respond.
The night passed considerably fast, with Ten and his crew scurrying all over the place. You, conversely, had taken a seat by the docks, right next to the rented boat Ten was busy filming the last of his scenes on.
It was a bit odd, seeing him in such a professional setting. He was here, in Thailand, dressed in clothes he’d wear out on a normal day, authentic as he came, and yet... something still felt different. As if his attitude had done a complete one-eighty, going from the easy, laidback person you knew to the terse, passionate idol people described him to be.
You knew no one could be the same off and during work hours. Even you had your moments when you were completely unrecognisable. No one was supposed to be recognisable in such circumstances. Work and daily life were two completely separate things, meant to be kept as far apart as humanly possible.
And yet, you didn’t hate seeing this side of him.
His smile was wide and easy when he approached you with the message that he’d finally wrapped up filming. He took your arm softly, just standing in front of you for a bit, his slender fingers wrapped around your arm.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d take too kindly to me bothering you at this hour—”
You gave him a look. He rolled his eyes.
“—and I know you keep insisting that I could never bother you,” he said. “That doesn’t make me any less grateful that you came to keep me company while filming. I can feel two things at once,” he added.
Your look faded into something of a smile, and you shrugged. “I’d never turn down the opportunity for a free boat ride in one of the most beautiful spots in the country.”
The boat certainly wasn’t the biggest you’d ever seen, but it was a beautiful thing, with its dark brown interior, with its variety of paper lamps hanging all over the place, bathing the whole atmosphere in a light as warm as Ten’s eyes on you as you stared out at the river, your arms crossed in front of you as you took in the sight before you.
You drifted past the beautiful Rama VIII bridge, made your way past Wat Anur in complete comfortable silence.
Something about the place you’d found yourself in, the proximity you shared with Ten; it made your stomach ache with flocks of butterflies, made your heart beat quicker than was comfortable.
As you passed Wat Phra Kaew, Ten broke his gaze from you to focus on the water in front of him, his eyes searching the golden lights the way they’d searched your face bathed in that same light.
He wasn’t completely sure why he’d invited you. After all, this went against his own after dark policy. God, this even went against his own company’s rules. He wasn’t allowed to have anyone besides himself and his crew present. Anything else could, at best, leave him with a scolding and, at worst, result in the termination of his contract.
But they’d wrapped filming earlier than expected, and Ten still had two hours left on the boat’s warranty. He didn’t want to spend it alone, nor did he want to make the tired crew stay any longer than they wished just because he felt lonely.
And part of him felt like he was doing the right thing.
Another part of him knew he just couldn’t stay away from you, regardless of if this visit was for his own selfish gain or for your happiness.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” you said at one point.
Ten looked back to you for an explanation, smiling in slight confusion at your sudden words.
“Go on the river, I mean,” you said. You pointed to the Asiatique mall, a place Ten himself was very familiar with, and continued, “I’d always be standing near the railing there, looking out onto the river, watching boats pass by. I never had the money or time to rent a boat for the night and just... drift past, looking back at dry land the way I am now.
“When I first moved here,” you continued, “I kept a notebook, filled with things I wanted to do with future friends or…” you stopped a bit, carefully choosing your next words. “…a different kind of loved one.”
“And what were those things?” ten asked, soft and intrigued.
You scoffed a laugh, embarrassed by your own misty-eyed moment. “Small, stupid things,” you dismissed.
Ten leaned in closer, bumping his bare shoulder with yours. “Like…?
“Like... coffee in Chinatown.”
...Ten places his order. A condensed milk coffee over ice, substituting cow’s milk for coconut milk. You made a mental note that he had somewhat of a sweet tooth, and that he didn’t drink cow’s milk...
“Or like cooking for someone who wasn’t a paying customer where I worked.”
You held the spoon to his lips, urging him to taste. He smiled once he did, suggesting, “Maybe a little bit more cream?”
“Or like going to a concert.”
“Thanks for coming with me,” he said, not fighting to be heard over the music. You could easily make out what he’d said just based on the curve of his lips. Was that bad? “None of my friends wanted to go out with me when I was here last.”
“Or like visiting Samut Prakan together.”
There had been sights he’d been meaning to see since he’d returned but had never been motivated enough to make the trip. Samut Prakan was a place you’d both agreed on wanting to see at some point during Ten’s rehab time, and it was one you finally had the budget for.
You shrugged. “And... this, like I said earlier. floating over the river late at night, just us two.”
Ten knew ‘us two’ was supposed to refer to whoever you’d have chosen to do this with, and that it was not exclusive to him and him alone. But part of him took it as such, part of his heart broke at the fact that he could never truly be part of an ‘us two,’ not even right now, when he had someone to complete a pair with right in front of him. Someone he was interested in, someone he cared for.
Someone he loved.
Because for Ten, everything was temporary. Temporary as the flings he had while abroad, temporary as his stay in Thailand. temporary as the fleeting moments of vulnerability with his friends, temporary as the few moments he got to himself when he wasn't working, when he wasn't on stage, or hopping on a plane to a new country.
Nothing, and he means nothing, was ever constant. Constant as his mother’s matchmaking, constant as your indifferent bluntness to anyone who wasn’t Ten. Constant as your love for the colour green, constant as his hatred for fruit. Constant as your plush lips revealing simple truths, constant as his sister teasing him about everything under the sun.
Nothing was ever constant in his fast paced life, and up until recently, he’d liked it that way. Unchanging in its continual change.
“Well,” he started, a painful lump in his throat, “I hope you find someone to do these things with.”
Your expression while your eyes landed on his made his heart break, made it ache the way it did when he looked at you for too long.
It was one of understanding; one that said,
It’s okay. I know you want me. But I know I want you more. I know you don’t love me the way I love you.
God, it made him feel like shit.
“Yeah,” you said. “I hope so, too.”
You both turned back to the water, staring at the inky black masses in front of you. You caught glimpses of Ten’s reflection in the water, messy and garbled. It felt like a pretty accurate representation of what it felt like to know him. Messy. All over the place. Never the same.
Ten stared at you through the water, finding beauty in your body even when your reflection was obscured through the surface.
Part of him longed to be reckless. To just wrap his arms around your waist and slot your lips together in a heated kiss. He wondered how you’d react to such an advance. Would you kiss him back? Would you sigh in pleasure and return his affection with fervour? Or would you pull away? Would you balk, and try to explain to him that all those months of fleeting touches, of early mornings spent together, had just been your unique way of showing explicitly platonic affection?
Another part of him knew he couldn’t. He’d admit it, yes, he may have had feelings for you. but he couldn’t throw away a decade of work for the first pretty foreigner he saw. If he kissed you, if he took things further, made it clear that he didn’t want to be ‘just friends,’ what then? If he took you into his arms and made love to you to his heart’s content at this very moment, how would he proceed?
He was leaving for Korea between 12 July and August 1st. That left him with—if he took the jump and just fucking kissed you—one month. One month to be in the honeymoon phase, to be all lovey dovey in a way that would make his friends vomit.
A month was not a long time. This had been proven, over and over again, with each month that went by and Ten spent with you. Sometimes he didn’t even realise a month had passed. Other times he wondered how something as short as five months felt like five years. How could he love you in one month? How could he make sure you received almost five months’ worth of love and adoration in one, and then be okay when he left and didn’t return until he was touring there?
The obvious possibility of a long distance relationship was not an option. He’d decided early on that someone like you deserved someone you could see and kiss every day. Someone you could have spread out for you like a charcuterie board with the snap of a finger.
As much as he’d love to, Ten couldn’t be that someone for you.
So... where did that leave him? With an aching heart as his return home came closer and closer, with lips that had gone without the kisses they so longed to give? A soul full of longing, one half fighting for his love and the other fighting for his life?
Maybe.
“Why did you want to become an idol, Ten?”
The older man started, ripped from his reverie by your sudden question.
“Why did I want to become an idol?"
You nodded, not noticing how your fingers slipped between the other’s, as if by second nature.
He didn’t smile when he explained it, unlike all the other times he’d been asked that exact question. “To be honest,” he started, “I don’t know. I guess— I’d always dreamt of being a performer. And for the longest time, I didn’t really know what that meant. When I was younger, I thought it meant singing and dancing on stage, so that’s what I did. That’s what I’ve been doing. And I won't lie and say I don’t enjoy it. It’s... exhilarating, being on stage in front of thousands of people who came just to see you. It’s... empowering, knowing that you broke through in such a difficult industry.
“I guess I also took it as a bit of a challenge, you know?” Ten continued, a small smile growing on his face. “Ever since my granny introduced me to K-pop as a genre and I said, ‘I want to do that,’ there were people who told me no. Who told me that some nobody from Thailand wouldn’t be able to make it in one of the most cutthroat music scenes. I was too this, I was too that. I wasn’t enough of this, I didn’t have enough of that. So I, all of sixteen years old, said, ‘Okay, watch me.’ And so... that got me where I am now.”
He turned to you, playing with one of the rings resting around your thumb. “Part of me regrets it,” he said. “Part of me wishes... I did something smarter. Like, I don’t know, studied marketing or art in London. Wishes I’d followed in my friends’ footsteps and actually made an adult decision."
He shrugged, smiling an embarrassed smile and feeling grateful at your patience with his monologue.
“You can still do that,” you said, leaning down so that your chin was resting on his arm, and your faces were finally level. Your noses almost brushed. “It’s never too late to change directions. or, even, just add a route to the path you’re currently taking. You can still be an idol and be an artist. You contain multitudes, ten. Everyone does. and no one is meant to only take one route in life, even if they stay on the same path.”
Ten wasn’t sure if it was your proximity or your soft-spoken words that made his breath catch in his throat.
“I know,” he replied. “Doesn’t make my conflict any less infuriating.”
You smiled. “That, I can agree on. Being multifaceted is all fun and games until your different personalities are at war.”
Ten laughed, the sound light and airy in your ears. He didn’t move from his spot, nor did you. Not even when he settled, enveloping you in virtual silence, did either of you move, the sounds of the water lapping at the boat’s edge the only actual sound echoing in your ears.
“Why did you want to become a chef?” Ten asked, as a way of filling the silence he’d created.
Your eyes widened a bit, quite obviously not expecting the personal question. Ten mimicked your expression, awaiting your answer. You hummed, thinking.
“My parents wanted me to be a pianist,” you started, “so I thought to myself, ‘What is a career in that exact opposite direction?’ and became a chef just to piss them off.”
Ten rolled his eyes. “Be serious.”
“I am,” you insisted, before sighing, your pupils shaking a bit under his gaze. “I suppose I became a chef for the same reason you became an idol; it was presented as a challenge. I used to work in a restaurant as a waitress—a Thai restaurant, funnily enough—and one day I asked the owner why there weren’f any female chefs. He told me that women couldn’t handle the stress of a kitchen, couldn’t deliver when given a chef’s task, and I wanted to prove him wrong.
“I guess it was also because I really do find it to be a type of art in its own right. If not that, then it’s a full contact sport.” You smiled, and Ten couldn’t tell if it was a happy one or not. “A lot of people think being a chef is just making food, when it’s so much more than that. It’s hours, and hours of thankless work, both inside and outside of a restaurant. Sure, anyone can cook at home, anyone can follow a recipe, but not everyone can withstand the sheer pressure of being a chef. And there’s something so… exciting about that, you know?”
Ten knew. It was what drew him to becoming an idol, as he'd said. Anyone could dance, anyone could sing, anyone could rap, but not everyone could handle sleepless days, sleepless months. Not everyone could handle the pressure of having the public eye on you at all times, of always having to be perfect.
He nodded. “I know.”
He knew very well.
You soon fell into silence once more, but this time it was comfortable, void of the angst and heartache your previous ones had been filled with. Still you did not move from your spots, leaning on your arms and looking deep into each other's eyes.
Ten was once taught that the eyes are the gateway to the soul.
If your eyes were truly revealing anything, being genuine under those soft stares, those adoring crinkles around them when you smiled, Ten knew you had the most beautiful soul in the world.
And he’d cherish it, even if he could only do so from a great, great distance.
Ten wished he’d never opened his emails.
The month of June had passed, as had several meetings with nct members and SM’s creative teams. June made way for July, and Ten had spent all of his free time with you, despite your own free time becoming less and less due to you throwing yourself into a job search.
The idol had spent most of his current day at home, attending meetings and taking notes left and right. He’d been a bit annoyed throughout the week, seeing as how he’d visited his doctor on monday for a checkup on his knee, and had subsequently been told that he’d have to wait almost an entire week for the results.
The results which would tell him whether or not he’d be returning to seoul on the weekend.
The thought alone drove him up the wall. He’d have to pack, have to break the news to practically his entire family and say his goodbyes once again.
He’d have to bid you goodbye.
He didn’t want to do that. No matter how much he denied his love for you, or how crazy you drove him, or how many times he came to realise that he’d always have had to say goodbye at some point or other, he still didn’t want to.
Didn’t want to have to look into your eyes as he announced his departure with no promise of a future together. Didn’t want to have to hug you one last time. Didn’t want to have to say goodbye to your touch.
And yet, here he was, reading a dreaded email as he tried to keep the tears out of his eyes.
JULY 14th, 2023
TO: Ten Lee
FROM: Doctor Mi
Congratulations, Ten! The tear in your knee has been completely healed within the discussed healing period.
You will be able to return to Korea as soon as tomorrow morning, as long as you make sure to take it easy on your knee for now. It may have healed completely, but cannot yet take the strain you are used to applying.
It was a pleasure to see you heal so quickly.
Best regards,
Doctor Araminta Mi.
You will be able to return to Korea as soon as tomorrow morning.
Great. That was just great. Ten had healed quicker than expected, and thus was able to do just what he’d been longing to do since the moment he stepped foot in the country; go back to Seoul.
He’d get to go back to his exciting life, where no one day was the same. He’d be able to return to his tight schedule, to his friends, to his beloved songs and concerts. He’d be off around the world again.
So why was he not happy?
Don’t get him wrong. Part of him was. Going home meant no romantic confusion, and no meddling family.
But going home meant no you.
Seoul had everything. Technology, adoring fans, SM Entertainment, a bustling nightlife, lifelong friends.
But it didn’t have you.
It didn’t have your dry, self-depricating humour. It didn’t have the skirts that hugged your waist the way Ten liked. It didn’t have your plush, pillowy lips, or the absurd and profound words and tired little sighs that spilled from them. It didn’t have your hands, icily soft to the touch on his burning skin. It didn’t have your eyes, ever changing yet constant in their emotion.
Seoul had his home, had his work, had his life.
But it did not have you.
For a moment, he weighed the possibility of asking you to come with him. You’d easily be granted a visa and a work opportunity, with your extensive experience. You could live with him, let him love you in secret. Away from the cameras, away from his crazy fans. You’d both live happily ever after in Seoul, and that could be that.
But he quickly dismissed it, as tempted as he was to ask you.
Because just like he had a life in Seoul, you had a life in Bangkok.
He cried after reading the email. Almost as much as his mother had when he'd first arrived. He cried all the way to his room, all through his packing process. He cried until it was dark, and his entire room was spotless, just the way his mother had left it when he’d left the first time, ten years ago.
He cried when he said goodbye to his parents, cried when he said goodbye to his sister over the phone despite all of them inevitably insisting on accompanying him to the airport the next morning.
He got a text message confirming his flight, and bitterly thought of how SM Entertainment must’ve also been in contact with his doctor, as per their agreement. They probably booked him a flight as soon as they received the okay.
They probably rejoiced at the thought of stealing him away from his sombre paradise.
He was at your doorstep again.
After your night in June, Ten would come all the way to your door in the late hours of the night or the early hours of morning, raise a hand to knock, then let it drop to his side and skulk away.
He meant nothing predatory by it. Really, he didn’t. He simply longed to see you, to talk to you, to touch you, but never had the confidence to come further than your doorstep.
This time, however, was different.
As he waited for you to open your door, part of him wondered if you even cared to, seeing how tired you’d get after work which would just result in you plopping down on your couch with Min’d cats and passing out.
Ten’s suitcase, his carry-on, as well as Louis, Leon, and Levi were back at his parents’. His mother had insisted that he should properly say goodbye to you before leaving for the airport early in the morning, and so insisted that he leave them there and pick them up on his way to the airport, as well as his family who’d wished to see him off before he went back to his second home. Just so that he could spend one last night with you.
Your eyes were tired when you opened the door, unsuspecting as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at the sight of him.
“Ten!”
In that moment, Ten didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the sound of your voice that set him off, or the smell of your perfume, or the curve of your hips, or the bursting of his heart as he thought about leaving an angel like you behind.
All he knew was that he was a man possessed.
His lips on yours were intense, passionate as they moved against your own as he all but fell through the threshold of your flat. You’d made a small noise of surprise, but it did not last long. Quickly, as naturally as breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck, ringed fingers finding purchase between the soft strands of hair that curled around his nape.
Your lips were as soft as he’d imagined, he thought, pulling away for only a few moments before pressing passionate pecks all over your face and neck, fingers curling around the back of your shirt.
“I need you,” was all he trusted himself to say, dragging his tongue over your bottom lip as he kissed you once again. “I’ve needed you for so long.”
You stumbled through your flat, hands messily coming to undo buttons, zips, and belts through hushed whispers of baby, of I need you too, of You should’ve told me you needed me. Your lips stayed on each other’s, straying only to kiss a neck, or the tip of a finger, or to bite a bottom lip and sigh breathily, movements stuttering at the sensation; while hands strayed, searching desperately for a place to stay. His fingers curled around your clothes, found purchases around your body once those were gone. Yours touched his lips, his collarbone, his hipbone, the v leading downward from there.
His lips tasted of the sweetest poison, you thought, catching a small taste of condensed milk and coffee on his tongue. A poison you could absolutely drown yourself in until you perished by the tender, deadly hands of lust and gluttony.
It was a gentle, passionate affair. It was not comparable to the tense nights you’d spent wishing you’d said no, or the messy nights Ten ended up abandoning as soon as they ended. You took care of each other, tender in his touches, benign in your oaths and affirmations. he spoke sweetly into your ear, and you breathed softly into his mouth. He called you baby, you called him sweetheart.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make a move sooner,” you’d said at one point. “I didn’t think— I didn’t know—”
“Don’t be,” he replied softly. His lips were red and swollen from your kisses. He was poised perfectly over you, silver pendant landing perfectly on your lips as if to silence your breathy apologies. Somewhere in the back of his mind, amidst the hungry kisses and the breathy groans, he wondered how badly he’d fucked up your friendship. The thought didn’t last long. “Don’t ever be sorry for not knowing something I could’ve told you.”
It did not last long, for six months of pent up affections could only leave one with so much endurance. You soon fell next to one another, limbs weak with overexertion, hearts filled with love.
You lay in each other’s arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck, occasionally pressing kisses to the warm skin, gleaming with sweat. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, sometimes taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb and slotting your lips together in a heated kiss.
“I love you,” he’d whispered after his lips departed from your own, the swollen skin still brushing together. “I’ve loved you for so long.”
“I love you, too, Ten.”
You’d fallen asleep sooner than later, your breaths steadying against Ten’s chest. The idol could feel his own eyes becoming heavy, but was lurched back to reality when he first woke up again.
It wasn’t that late. 23.09 is what your bedside clock read when Ten lifted his head just that little bit to check the time. He’d already calculated that he’d have to stop by his house to pick up his luggage and three sons at five, to get to the airport at six, to get on his flight which left at seven.
Which left him with five hours to hold you in his arms and pretend like he wouldn’t have to leave come daybreak.
He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, merely ruffling your hair and laying his cheek atop your head, wordless as you were further enveloped in a love-filled slumber.
Bangkok International Airport got very quiet early in the morning. Despite it being absolutely bustling on the regular, it was always quiet while the sun came up. The entire airport only had a few dozen people milling about, departing or arriving with their suitcases strung behind them.
Ten was glad for the silence. Any time he was spotted at an airport, he was ambushed by photographers, eager for a picture of him. He was approached by fans who’d surely spent the previous night there, all to get a good look at him and his friends and have their fanfiction protagonist moment.
Tern’s arms were wrapped tightly around her brother’s form as she enveloped him in a hug.
“I’m going to miss your ugly face,” she grumbled, chin wobbling as she tried to keep her tears at bay. The younger woman sniffled, looking at Ten like he’d done something wrong. “And your stupid Sheen voice.”
With the early morning sun filtering through the large windows, bathing Tern in the natural light, Ten could almost imagine her to be ten years younger, wishing him the same aggressive goodbye as she had when he’d left home for the first time.
“I’m going to miss you, too, you crybaby,” Ten chuckled. “But I’ll definitely keep in touch. Whenever I have a moment, I’ll call you. I’ll take up all your time, and always text, asking you if you’ve been eating and—”
“Okay, all I need is monthly calls!” Tern interrupted. “Thank you very much.”
Ten smiled widely, nodding. His father then wished him goodbye, hugging his son tight with promises of keeping in touch no matter their schedules.
And, last but not least, the cause and solution to all of his problems, Mama Lee.
She was teary as she wrapped Ten up in a hug, resting her chin on his shoulder. She held him tight, standing in place for what felt like several minutes.
“I’m gonna miss you, mum,” Ten said, his voice muffled by her hair. “It was amazing to be back here for so long. ‘M sorry I was so eager to leave in the beginning.”
She only kissed his forehead, cupping his cheeks fondly. “I’m glad you stayed, as well, Chittaphon. I’ve missed you terribly since you left and feared you were missing out on life.” Their foreheads met, and his mother continued, “I’m grateful that I got to see you experience life as I thought it would be for you. Even when you didn’t exactly reap the benefits I sowed,” she added, smiling mischievously.
Ten’s throat tightened at the indirect mention of you, smiling stiffly. His hands had been trembling slightly before, though he felt them properly shake when the topic of you came up.
He nodded, shrugging. “Sorry, mum. Still no jub. B-but I’ll.. We’ll make sure to keep in touch,” he assured, though he was certain you’d block his number after he slept with you and disappeared without a trace the next morning.
He wouldn’t fault you for it.
He descended the steps to the departure gate, waving as best as he could with both of his hands holding his luggage. Leon mewled from inside his crate, and Ten tutted empathetically.
“Don’t worry, Leon. We’ll be back home soon enough.”
┈┈┈┈┈┈
“You were right, Yang. I wasn’t telling you everything.”
it was cute, really, how things ended up like that. you had asked him for tips on how to flirt, since you weren’t particularly good at it, and ten was the first and best person who came to your mind to help you with that. he, after all, was a natural when it came to the art of flirting. he didn’t just flirt to get someone he was interested in; he flirted because it was fun, because he loved the game, the banter, the chase.
so of course he’d agreed to help. how could he resist the chance to show off a little and spend time with you—his good friend who he definitely didn’t have a tiny, harmless crush on? not at all.
“you’re too caught up in using words,” he said after patiently listening to your shy, rehearsed pickup lines. there was amusement in his eyes, but not mockery. just that usual glint he always had when he was about to show you something. “it’s not always about what you say, but what you do. if you can’t use words, then just use your body.”
you stared at him like he’d just handed you a test on your worst subject. “use my body? isn’t that a little too advanced for a beginner?” ten grinned, “it’s not. you just need to know how to use it.” he reached out and gently lifted your chin with two fingers. “eye contact, pretty. that’s step one. look like you want them, even if you’re dying inside."
usually, you could barely last five seconds of eye contact, but it wasn’t like you could escape with him holding your face in place. “like this?” you asked, voice just barely steady.
his smirk widened. "like this. perfect. now—step two." he inched closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of him, his breath brushing your skin. "proximity. you don't always need words. just being close is enough to mess with someone's head."
yeah… you could definitely tell. you could feel his warmth all over you, his delicious scent clouding your senses, the way his fingers were still lingering on your skin like they had every right to be there.
“then, do everything inside the limits,” he continued, voice softer now, leaning closer until his lips hovered by your ear. “like whisper in their ear,” he said, brushing his lips just barely against your earlobe. a chill ran down your spine. “flirting is all about tension.”
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost affectionate. his hand trailed down your arm, fingers grazing your skin in a way that made you want to squirm. he kept going until he reached your thigh, where his hand finally settled, warm and steady.
“sometimes being a little honest can help,” he murmured, his voice low, almost like a secret meant just for you. his hand found yours, fingers sliding between yours with ease, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “for example,” he continued, eyes locked on yours, “i really wanna kiss you right now.”
your breath hitched—because god, he said it so simply, so sincerely, like it wasn’t the kind of thing that could flip your entire world upside down.
“y-you sure this is still a lesson?” you whispered.
“are you learning?”
“…maybe.”
“then it is."
his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, slow and deliberate, his gaze fixed there like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. you could feel the tremble in your own body, your heart thudding like a warning, because this... this didn't feel like pretending at all.
"okay, final step," his eyes didn’t leave your lips as he spoke again, voice soft but laced with that teasing tone he always used when he was holding back a smile. “if you’re feeling bold, and i think you are, you close the distance.” he leaned in just enough for his breath to tickle your skin. “you pause… let the tension build.”
he stopped, his lips barely a breath away from yours. “and then,” his voice dropped lower, “if they don’t pull away... you kiss them.”
you didn’t pull away. you didn’t even breathe.
so he kissed you.
his lips were soft, his tongue warm and gentle as it teased your lips, coaxing you to part them and let him in, which you did, without any resistance, as if enchanted—practically melting into the kiss. it was slow, intentional, like he was proving a point.
you almost whined in disappointment when he pulled away.
“see? just like that,” his eyes sparkled with playful mischief. “now, let’s do it again and see if you’ve learned.”
PAIRING: ten x dancer!fem!reader
GENRE: fluff, angst?, childhood friends to lovers
WARNINGS: cursing, kissing
SYNOPSIS: dancing has always been the passion that you've been working towards, and your friend, ten, cheered you on, until your careers led you astray
WORD COUNT: 9.9k
A/N: super incredibly late birthday gift for @jae10velies !!! idk how to write angst, i am full of love and positivity. i also don't know anything about dancing, oops
As a child, you always showed an interest in dance. Your parents didn't need to turn on music for you to try new moves. At parties, you were always on the dance floor, either tumbling around as a three-year-old or performing a solo dance at six years old.
Your parents agreed to let you join dance classes, sensing your passion and hoping to keep you busy. Whether it was ballet, ballroom, or contemporary, you were looking to expand your knowledge. They understood that a dance career was in view when you would win competitions at school, your dance academy, and even in regionals.
Your dance studio had a big gym where gymnastics classes were held. One day, when you were seven years old, you had to go to the gym to put back some equipment your teacher from down the hall had borrowed. When you opened the door, you saw the back of a boy in a black leotard standing in front of you, on a beam. You stood in place as he stretched, curiously waiting for him to do a trick.
The boy suddenly stepped back a little, and you straightened in anticipation. He stretches his hands up and suddenly does a handstand on the beam. You let out a small gasp as he starts using his hands to go to the other side of the beam. He goes back to standing normally on the beam, before flipping and landing on the right of the beam, facing you.
"Who are you?" The boy asks, tilting his head to the side. He has black, choppy hair and stands at the same height as you. You quickly rush over to stand in front of him, putting the box of equipment down.
"I'm Y/N! I was just returning things my ballet teacher took. You're really good!" You smile at the boy, who smiles in return. He seems nice!
"Hi, Y/N! I'm Ten! I was training for a competition I have tomorrow at 5 P.M. It'll be here, you should come!" Ten happily informs you. You're surprised he invited you, even though you just met.
"I would love to! If I get out of my contemporary dance quick enough, I will bring my parents!" You respond, and Ten nods at you. "Do you go to school near here? I do."
"No," Ten shakes his head, "I go to the private school in the city. I guess we will only see each other around here. Which is why you should come tomorrow! I'll come to your next competition too, just tell me!"
You giggle and nod, causing Ten to laugh along. You suddenly look at the box by your feet. You pick it up and put it in the storage room, and Ten follows you. "Okay, I should go back. I think my parents is waiting for me. Maybe our parents can meet, I know mine will say yes! I have another competition next week here for ballet, so you should come!"
Ten nods and waves you goodbye, hoping to see his new dancing friend.
The next day, Ten sits around the arrays of benches with other gymnasts. He scans the bustling crowd in front of him, excitedly waving at his parents, who wave back. He wonders if the girl from yesterday would be there too, and he searches for you.
Ten starts to frown when he doesn't see you, but then the door opens, and he sees you walk in with who he thinks are your parents. While you wore a black leotard with pink tights the day before, you stood at the door wearing black sweatpants with a white leotard underneath. You wave excitedly at each other as soon as you make eye contact. Ten runs over to you as he still had five minutes left.
"Hi, Y/N!" Ten says, bowing to your parents behind you. You see who you think are Ten's parents approach behind him, and bow to them. He turns around and smiles harder. "Mom, dad, this is Y/N! She's who I talked about yesterday!"
"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Ten's told us you would come, so we saved seats beside ours." Ten's father says as he and his mom bow to yours. Your parents talk as they go to your seats.
"Good luck, Ten! I know you'll win!" You smile at the boy, and he nods shyly. You wave as you rush to your parents, who were looking for you.
The competition starts, but as you're watching all the contestants, you're slightly bored. Although you assured Ten that he'd win before the competition, you're sure of it now. The other kids did not stun you as much as Ten did yesterday, and you were ready to see Ten's act and go home with a gold medal.
The gymnast before Ten goes to the centre of the gym, and you make eye contact again with Ten, who smiles at you. You smile and bring your hands to your ear, closing your eyes to mimic sleep. You open them to find Ten laughing, which makes you smile.
Ten's teacher taps his shoulder, signalling for him to get up. He looks back up to you, and you give a small thumbs up, silently cheering him on. You, your parents, and Ten's parents all lean forward to watch the boy.
Ten walks to the beam, sitting on it and spreading his legs to the side. You didn't know anything about gymnastics, but you noticed everyone doing small stretches before finishing off with a big act.
Ten gets back up on the beam and takes long strides, stretching his arms and legs in many directions, and, despite doing small stretches on and off the beam, maintains a gracefulness you admire. You wonder how he would fare in your dance studios. You see him getting ready to do his final handstand walk act, which you caught him doing the day before.
When Ten gets off the beam and bows for the crowd, you get up from your seat, trying to clap and cheer the loudest, and the laugh Ten lets out as he looks up at you tells you you've succeeded. Your parents and Ten's parents were only clapping, but when they saw your enthusiasm, they cheered along.
Thankfully, Ten's was the last performance, which meant you could cheer without being shushed immediately. You could tell that even if it weren't for you, the round of applause for Ten was the loudest out of all the performers.
You hold onto your mom's thigh as the podium is announced. Ten hadn't gotten third or second, and you were sure he was first. You were staring at each other, and you smiled at him, reducing the nerves on his face.
"And first place is... Ten!" The announcer says. You immediately jump up and scream. Ten's parents laugh and cheer, and your parents just watch how excited you were for your friend of one day. Ten went up to get his medal, bowing at the presenter once his gold medal was put on his neck.
Ten laughs when he sees you and his parents at the stands, cheering along with you. When the event is over, you all run down to him. You wait for Ten's parents to stop hugging him and telling him how proud they are of him, so you can have your turn. Ten immediately turns to you, and you immediately put your arms around his neck.
"See! I told you you would win! Nothing to be nervous about!" You exclaim in Ten's arms, and he laughs in your ear.
"I should have believed you!" Ten seconds before letting go of you. Your parents congratulate him, and he bows before turning to his parents. "Can we come to see Y/N's ballet competition next week? I haven't seen her dance, but I know she'll win!"
"Yeah, I win all the time at all my dance competitions!" You add, turning from Ten to his parents. His parents look at yours, who laugh and quietly tell them they should come.
"Before that, I believe this calls for something..." Ten's father says, putting his hands on Ten's shoulders, "A celebratory dinner! We would like you to join us. We can discuss Y/N's dancing over food."
Your father laughs, "We would be delighted to." You smile as you turn to Ten, who has the same smile on his face.
You and Ten, from then on, were inseparable. As you didn't go to the same school, you only saw each other at the academy or at each other's houses. Your parents had agreed to alternate drivers each week. One week, your mom would pick you up, and the following week, Ten's dad would.
You had many competitions, and because Ten's parents were busy, your parents would pick him up to be there for your dancing. You had met his grandmother, who would also tag along as she liked to watch dancing.
"You know, my grandma wants me to dance too." The now 13-year-old Ten says as you sit across from each other, picking at the noodles on his plate. You and your dance partner had just won a ballroom dancing competition, and you were sitting in a bright red dress, while Ten wore a dress shirt and bow tie. You raise your eyebrows at this.
"Really? And what do you think?" You ask him, leaning a bit forward. Ten was relatively shy, especially now that you have grown. At some of the parties his parents invite you to, you'd have to convince Ten to join you on the dancefloor, but his fluidity carried over from gymnastics, matching your steps immediately.
"Well, she shows me a lot of K-Pop groups. I think Super Junior's really cool. I kinda want to, but I still don't know. I feel like this is something you should be doing." Ten answers, looking up at you with sad eyes. You couldn't tell if it was guilt in his eyes for wanting to be a K-Pop idol, or if he didn't want to be a K-Pop idol.
"Don't think about me, Ten. This is about you. It's kinda funny that your grandma introduced you to K-Pop, though." You smile at him, and you watch as he laughs, still picking at his food. "Plus, I don't sing, I only wanna be a choreographer. I've heard you sing, you're good. You're a good dancer, too, but gymnastics isn't giving you confidence. You should switch to some of my classes. Then we can finally be classmates!"
You look to your parents, who are talking to Ten's father and grandmother. Ten's little sister is sitting beside you, silent. She always preferred you over her brother. Your mom raises her eyebrows at you, indicating that she heard your conversation.
After coming home, your mother pulls you aside, "Ten's grandmother told us she wanted to put Ten in one of your classes. How do you feel about that?"
You shrug, knowing your mother was worried, "I really don't mind, Mom. I think he'll be good. I don't think he'd be stealing my spotlight." Your mother pats your head with a small smile, although she can see the unsure look on your face.
Next week, Ten joins you in your contemporary class. Your teacher, who is on the gymnastics faculty, happily accepts Ten, knowing that he can transition easily, given his gymnastics skills. You were nervous when you saw that Ten had easily learned the choreography your class was practicing.
Over the next few weeks, you saw Ten progress faster than you ever could. You felt proud of your friend, but slightly jealous. You knew he was doing this to be an idol while you just wanted to be in the world of dance, but you didn't want to see him at your competitions as your enemy rather than your supporter.
The classes before your teacher had to prepare you for the contemporary dance competition were met with an awkward tension between you and Ten that only you felt. Ten could tell that you were slightly agitated, as you were almost entirely silent in the car instead of talking about school and your friends as you always did.
"How's Ten been doing in your classes?" Your mother asks as she drives you back from your ballet class. Your face scrunches up, and your mother spots it in the rearview mirror.
"He's been good. He caught up quick to everyone's dances, and I heard my teacher tell him he could even do a solo next time." You sigh, and your mother sees your eyes well up with tears.
"I know it's hard, Y/N. You've worked so hard on this dream of yours, and you don't want to be overshadowed, especially by your best friend. But know that he's not doing it on purpose. Your father and I will always support you, and I know Ten and his family do too. You have to be supportive, too, okay?" She reminds you, and you feel a few tears fall.
You didn't want to harbour jealousy, especially not towards the cute guy you've been best friends with for almost half your life.
During class, Ten tried to pry you open, standing closer to you than usual during stretches, and asking you for help with some dance moves that you knew he didn't need. When the class ended, you stayed behind to talk to your teacher about the upcoming competition. As it was a regional, you were worried if you would even be chosen, as only one person from your class could be chosen.
"Of course you're our representative, Y/N. Why would you think you aren't?" Your teacher reassures you, patting your shoulder as you're slumped over.
"Oh, I just assumed Ten might be chosen. He's a fast learner and doesn't make many mistakes." You admit. You look up at your teacher, whose eyebrows are raised.
"You haven't heard?" Your teacher asks, and you look at her in confusion, "Ten's gonna be on that new idol show that's coming. He can't participate in the competition, but you were always our first choice." She smiles at you, and you nod, feeling a swirl of emotions.
You walked to the exit, where Ten was waiting for you. Questions filled your mind: Why did he not tell me? I thought I was his best friend?
Ten smiles at you when he sees you, but you can't bring one to your face. You see a flash of concern on his face, but it's quickly replaced with shock as his grandmother walks up to the two of you.
"Hi, Y/N," Ten's grandmother greets you as she turns to take you into Ten's father's car, "Are you ready for your tournament next week? I'll be there to watch, but Ten and his parents won't be."
"Why's that?" You ask. Your tone is polite enough that Ten's grandmother won't notice it, but Ten looks at you, sensing some anger in your voice.
"You haven't told her?" Ten's grandmother looks at Ten with surprise, and you take this moment to glare at Ten. His eyes are on you, shining with guilt.
"I've been accepted into the new idol show. I won't be around during it. If I win, I could go to South Korea and train like a real K-Pop trainee." Ten answers, scratching his neck once you approach his father's car. You just hum, not wanting to say anything without thinking first.
The car ride is awkward. Ten waits for you to say something, evident by the way his knees are facing you, and you can feel his gaze shift from your face to the front of the car, seeing the car get closer and closer to your house.
As the car stops at your house, you turn to Ten, who has a pleading look on his face, and his hands are on his thighs, but you can tell he's itching to hold yours and ask you to say something, anything.
"Good luck, Ten. We'll be rooting for you." You finally say with a small smile, putting a hand on his shoulder before reaching for the door. He smiles, putting his hand over yours, and nods. When you get out of the car, you look back at him. You can barely see it through his window's tint, but you could swear that you saw a tear fall down his smiling face.
You watched the show with great interest. Ten was always away, and you felt awkward going to his house without him there. His grandmother would visit your competitions, as Ten's parents grew too busy. She would gush over Ten's progress.
You were proud of your best friend. You saw his talent, and it was rewarding for the country to see it. He was easily the best participant on the show. His singing and stability while dancing surprised you, and you wonder why you never asked to see him perform before he left. You were excited to see him once he came back and made a note to tease him about his red hair.
However, you were increasingly busy, as well. You were travelling a lot for your competitions, and you were now good enough for nationals. You had many offers to go abroad to improve your dancing, but your parents deemed you too young to go away alone and were considering moving all together.
Ten's show was coming to a close, and his family started inviting you over to watch the final episodes together. You had a lot of fun, holding hands with your mom and Ten's grandmother while praying he wouldn't get eliminated.
You remember the final episode. Ten's family had you over once again, and the nerves were high. The dinner on the dining table was growing cold as everyone stood around the TV in anticipation, even though the show had just started, meaning you still had to sit through everyone's performances. You were surprised at the strength with which Ten's grandmother was holding your hand.
On screen, you could see Ten's nervous expression, which he easily masked from anyone who didn't know him, and he showed no weakness. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if he knew you were watching. Of course, he would. I'm his best friend.
Finally, the show was coming to an end, and all the participants were standing on stage, holding each other's hands. Ten was fully nervous now, and the relief on his face mirrored yours as contestant after contestant was eliminated.
Everyone's grip on each other's hands somehow tightened even more as more people were eliminated, until finally, Ten and one other person were on stage, standing on either side of the host. You leaned closer to the TV, even though you could hear and see perfectly well.
"And the winner is..."
You try to grip onto your mother and Ten's grandmother's hands harder.
"Ten!"
The house erupts in cheers. You jump, hugging your mother and father tightly, tears streaming down your face. You might now be friends with a K-Pop idol. You turn to Ten's parents, but his grandmother grabs you first, sobbing into your arms.
"Ten really wanted to be an idol not just for me, but for you. He was inspired by you and wanted to pursue a career similar to yours so you'd stay together." Ten's grandmother tells you, still crying. Your sobs become louder at this fact, hating that you ever were mad at him. He just wanted to stay by your side.
You hug Ten's parents and sister, jumping up and down in celebration as his grandmother goes to heat up all the food. You walk back to your mother, sobbing in her arms again, not out of joy, but guilt. Your mother pats your back and tells you it's okay, having heard Ten's grandmother's words to you.
After dinner, you go back to Ten's room, which you were allowed in whenever he wasn't at home. You look at his gymnastics medals and trophies, which stopped after he joined your dance classes last year. You sit on his bed, looking at his photos around the room. As this was his family's house, he barely had pictures of them in his room; instead, there were many pictures of you and some of his school friends.
You walk up to one of the pictures. Ten was holding a trophy you won from ballet, while you had one from ballroom. You had back-to-back tournaments that day, and Ten was with you the whole time. The smiles on your nine-year-old selves made you smile, and you wish you had Ten beside you with an arm around you, like in the picture.
You sit back on his bed, putting your face in your hands. Would his parents let him be a trainee? Would you and your family move before he goes to South Korea? Would you never talk again? Suddenly, your father calls you down to leave, and you smile before closing the door to Ten's room, excited to be back with him one day.
To your surprise, Ten came back. His parents also thought he was too young to go abroad alone, and didn't allow him to become a trainee in South Korea just yet. Ten expressed his disappointment to you the day you saw each other again, but he wore a big smile, happy to finally see you.
You tried to spend more time together outside of dance class and competitions, but it became increasingly difficult as you got older, and the pressure felt harder. Whenever Ten was in your house, you would find yourselves sitting on the stairwell, listening to your parents' conversations.
"I like the idea of moving a month after Y/N graduates next year. Her graduation is before Ten's. I don't want her to miss it." You hear your mother suggest. You and Ten look at each other solemnly. You knew you were going to move for a while, and Ten wanted to learn all the details so that he could find you again.
"I think that's good. She gets some time to visit her favourite places here before we leave. We'll have to talk to her about which offer she prefers. I think there were union offers, dance academy offers, and even auditions from big names around the world. Hopefully, a talent agent, too, so she can get helpful advice." You hear your father say, much closer to the stairs.
"Do you think she'd take a Korean offer? That way, she and Ten would be able to support each other in another country." Your mother asks, walking closer to your father. Your mother knew you were each other's sources of happiness. Recently, since you turned 16, she keeps asking you if you had a crush on him, and you just blush before telling her to leave your room. Ten leans closer to the bars on your stairs to listen better.
"I don't think we have any Korean offers just yet. Maybe soon, but I think America would be better overall. I think Ten's father told him to wait until he graduates before auditioning for Korean agencies. I hear it's hard to be an idol, but I think he can easily make a name for himself." You can hear the smile in your father's voice, and you look over at Ten, who is giddy. You quietly go back to your room, ready to debrief.
"Please take Korean offers, Y/N. Please. If you ever get offers from SM, take them. I'm gonna make sure I get in." Ten smiles confidently as he drops down beside you on your bed, making you giggle.
"You're so sure. Why don't you get into SM first, and I'll think about it. I need more international experience before I get Korean offers. My resume isn't as good as yours." You tease, nudging his shoulder with yours.
"Trust me, I'm gonna be a K-Pop idol, and you're gonna be my choreographer. I'll make sure my members listen to you, and if they don't, I'll let you slap them."
As the school year ended, you and Ten were extremely busy. You barely had time to be together, and when you did, you were studying together. You and Ten left the dance academy as exam season approached, thankful that some of your stress had been alleviated. You left to take a brief break before working hard abroad, and Ten was preparing for auditions with different Korean agencies.
You attended each other's graduations, full of happiness and tears. You watched him grab his diploma, and he watched you grab yours. You sat across from each other during dinner, as if you had won another competition, but it felt bittersweet. This was going to be your last dinner with Ten and his family for a while, you're sure.
You look at the 17-year-old Ten in front of you. His hair had long returned to being black. It was shaggy, and you found him to look cute like this. Your crush never faltered, only strengthening as Ten had always brought your favourite snacks every time you met up to study.
You were going to miss your best friend. The one who immediately wanted you to see him do gymnastics exactly 10 years ago. The one who always wanted to see you, no matter the occasion. The one who had more pictures of you than anyone else in his room.
"I can't believe it's been 10 years. I could make a lot of jokes with my name, but I know you'll be pissed." Ten jokes, but you can see the frown on his face as he plays around with his food. You frown, knowing he's reduced his food intake in order to be an idol.
"I'm gonna miss your bad jokes." You humour Ten, who sticks his tongue out, now smiling as he pushes his food around with his fork.
The following month, you and Ten spend as much time together as possible. You were at his house watching him dance and sing along to K-Pop dances, or he was at yours, watching you learn harder choreographies, sometimes joining in to challenge himself.
Whether you were sitting beside each other on your beds or standing in line for a store, you and Ten were closer than ever before. You didn't know if he realized your knees or shoulders were touching, but you were always too afraid to bring it up. He probably sees me as his sister.
Finally, the day came. Ten helped you empty your belongings in the days leading up to your flight, and there were barely any smiles between you.
Ten luckily got accepted into SM before you left, and his parents arranged his flight to be the day after yours.
"I told you I would make it. Now, whenever you have the chance, you better come to SM. Just call my parents, and they'll tell me." Ten barely whispered to you in tears on the car ride. His entire family was dropping your family off at the airport.
You let your tears fall, gripping onto Ten's hand on your lap. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to lose contact with him, but you knew you would. You knew he would not have any time to himself, especially not with his family and friends, as a trainee; it was a known fact. You knew he couldn't have any rumours, so you kept your feelings to yourself.
As you stand before security, you're even quieter. Ten's father holds your shoulder as his mother and sister are hugging you, tears rolling down their faces and onto your shirt. His grandmother holds you tight, muttering in your hair to stay safe and work hard.
You turn to Ten, face red and wet. Your heart breaks at the sight of him, knowing you were the reason behind the tears, but it makes you feel selfish, happy even. You were grateful to have an amazing friend who stuck by you for so long. If he was truly the one, which you hope he was, you know you'll find him again.
Ten hugs you, and you think this is the hardest he's ever hugged you. He squeezes your neck with one arm, squeezing your waist with the other. You can feel him sobbing in your hair, and you're sure you're doing the same thing.
"I'm seeing you again. Just wait." Ten says in your hair, and you nod, your face in his neck.
"We've got a few more requests for you." Your talent manager says as you pick up her call. You were with your family after having been a backup dancer for almost an entire year, as many artists had decided to tour.
"I don't know... I think I need a break. I'm with my family after so long, I don't think I need to be a backup right now." You groan into your phone, and your mother laughs as she watches TV beside you.
Your mother and father have been living in the same house since you first moved 12 years ago, and you wanted to sleep in your family's home rather than in your apartment.
"These aren't backup dancer requests. It's a few choreography request. From a company called SM Entertainment in South Korea." You sit up straight at your manager's words, and you can hear a small smirk in her voice. You hadn't told her about Ten despite being close to her, but you told her you wished for SM. You were afraid she would try to look for him, and you were scared.
You knew you should have looked up Ten's name whenever you were free, but you were worried whether he had even debuted, and if he didn't, you knew it would crush your heart. Your parents regularly contacted Ten's parents when you first moved, but they didn't have many updates on Ten. Recently, everyone has been too busy to call each other. You've rarely had alone time on your phone, and when you did have time, you only thought about being with friends and family.
"SM Entertainment? We've never had any requests from them. How do we suddenly have a few?" You ask, and your father turns to look at you from the single sofa beside you. Your mother also straightens up and whispers to you to put the call on speaker, which you do.
"I'm not sure. It seems the one who's requested you wants you to choreograph his entire solo album, the single for a Japanese album, and the company said if they like your work, they might have you as a regular for their groups." Your manager says, and you can hear her mouse click as she reads out the description requests.
You look over to your parents, who have both leaned closer to hear your manager. You had choreographed for many K-Pop groups when they came to America, some in smaller companies and some in bigger ones, and you wonder whether SM had scouted you or if it was your old friend.
"What's his name?" You breathe out, holding onto your mother's hand.
"His name is..." You hold your breath, wondering if your manager was keeping your entire family on their toes on purpose, "Ten. He's a member of... WayV, which is part of the larger group NCT." Your manager reads from her screen, but you feel your body go numb.
You can feel your parents happily turn to each other, but fear starts to settle in. What if he's doing this to confront you? "Why have you never contacted me?" You can hear in his voice, but you're sure it's changed now, "I hate you."
"Y/N? What's your answer?" Your manager's voice snaps you out of your trance. You look to your parents, who are nodding hysterically. You smile as you nod at them.
"Yes. I would love to." You respond. Your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it.
"Oh? You would love to?" Your manager teases, and your whole family playfully rolls their eyes, "You've never said this about anyone before. Is he your celebrity crush?"
"No," You laugh, "But he was my crush like 12 years ago. We were best friends, and I know he's gonna get on my ass for not trying to find him."
You suddenly cover your mouth at your words, looking around at your parents. They laugh, knowing you're past the age where you should care about swearing in front of them.
"Oh, what? You're telling me about this later. In that case, though, I'll make sure to get back to his team. I believe they would like you to fly in in two days, but I'll ask again. In the meantime, start packing up!" Your manager suggests. You say your short goodbyes and end the call. You can now feel the butterflies in your stomach.
"Wow. I can't believe it's actually happening." Your father marvels as he sits beside you.
"You'll finally see him after so long, and I'm sure he won't be mad at you." Your mother reassures you, like she always did. You nod, trying to fight back the tears threatening to appear.
"Are you excited to see him, then?" Your manager asks from beside you. You're out of the plane and at Incheon Airport, waiting for your bags. You've been nervously fidgeting, even though you were to go to SM Entertainment tomorrow.
"Fuck," You gulp, "I really don't know. Of course, I miss my best friend, and I want us to be able to tell each other stories now that we've achieved the lives we've been working toward, but I don't want him to view me negatively. Like I've forgotten him or have been avoiding him."
"I'm sure he'll understand. If he doesn't, then maybe don't go back to him. You don't know how these idols are." Your manager lectures you, and you smile, feeling as if your parents are with you, although they believe Ten will be the same as he was as a child and have told you to send him their regards. You were going to video call them with him anyway.
"Yeah, you're right. I hope he's the same." You mutter, more to yourself than your manager. You pick up your luggage, which has finally arrived, and head to your hotel. You wanted to meet Ten first before touring Korea, hoping he would be your guide.
The next morning, you can hear your manager let out small giggles as you get ready. You woke up early and spent more time on your teeth, chose your clothes carefully, and kept redoing your makeup.
"I've never seen you so nervous for something. It's cute how much you wanna impress him." Your manager says as you leave your shared hotel room, gaining an eye roll from you. She told you she got a text from SM's representatives, who had sent a car for you.
Your manager tries to calm you down on the ride to the SM building, which wasn't far. Your leg was shaking, and she asked you about your life with Ten before, hoping to calm you down. You told her about how you met, how he transferred into your dance class, how you were always carpooling and hanging out at each other's houses. She kept pausing your storytelling to express how cute she found your friendship, letting out many "Aw"s.
You feel the car stop completely, and your nerves that were gone came back. The driver tells you you've arrived, and your manager puts a hand on your shoulder before signalling to get out of the vehicle.
Once you were out of the car, you saw two women, masked and wearing all black, standing by the door. Your manager smiled at them, and they hurried over to them. One woman spoke in Korean, and you assumed the lady beside her, who was listening attentively, was to translate for her.
The interpreter turns to you, "Hi, I'm one of Ten's staff members, and this is his manager. Ten requested to meet with you alone before working on choreography, but we wanted to make sure that's okay with you first."
"Yes, that's fine." You answer before your manager can, and she gives you a slight smirk. The women nod before leading you into the building.
You see many people in the building's lobby, with service desks and even cafes. You wonder how lavishly Ten must have been living. You figured on looking up Ten online since you were called to SM, but preferred to hear everything from the source himself.
The women bring you into an elevator and press the tenth floor. You try to stop yourself from giggling, still finding sightings of Ten's name funny. You've missed hearing his annoying jokes.
The elevator finally opens, and the women lead you to the door of what you assumed to be a green room, which is right beside a large practice room with windows looking in. Your heart beats fast, and you're unsure if it'll only be Ten and you in there, or if he'll still have staff around.
Ten's manager checks her watch before turning to the interpreter, speaking to her in Korean. Your manager turns to you with a light smile, knowing you were nervous.
"Ten asked for 15 minutes with you. He told us you're friends and wanted to catch up. If either of you forgets to come to the practice room right beside, using the door in there, one of us will knock." The interpreter informs you.
"You'll be fine, right?" You ask your manager, turning to her. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you can see by her eyes that she was going to ask you the same thing. You playfully scoff before giving her a hug.
"I hope you have fun. Make sure to take a picture for your family!" Your manager calls out as she is led to the practice room beside. You laugh before turning back to the door in front of you.
You wipe your hands on your pants, wiping away the sweat that's accumulated on them. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, and take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You knock on the door a few times, hoping to hear a response.
"Come in!" You recognize the voice that calls out. His voice has only slightly deepened, despite it being 12 years since you've heard it.
You open the door slightly, trying to take a peek before walking in fully. You can see a bit of Ten's back, his pants loose and black, and a white sweater. From what you can see, his hair is blond and down to his neck.
You open the door completely, and the man in front of you turns around. You feel your eyes raise as he looks a lot like he did before you left, maybe even younger. You can't tell whether he was completely bare-faced or had a little makeup on. His smile is the same as it always looked when he looked at you, and you wonder if he's been told to tone down his toothy smile for his image.
"It's been over a decade, and you're just gonna stand there?" Ten asks, causing you to giggle. You walk towards him, and he opens his arms out for you, which you happily fall into. His arms are placed in the exact spot they were that day in the airport. You feel your eyes brimming with tears again, happy to be back in his arms, no matter how different he may have become.
"Last time I hugged you, I probably looked like a mess." Ten sighs in your hair. You nod in his neck once again.
"I could feel your tears and snot in my hair." You joke, and Ten laughs before pulling away. You're standing much closer now, and Ten's hands hold onto your forearms.
"I can't believe we're together again," you feel your heart skip a beat at his words, "How are you? How's your family? I heard your portfolio from the choreography staff, you've made it!" Ten suddenly exclaims, gesturing for you to sit beside him on the futon at the edge of the room.
You sit down first, and Ten moves to sit almost directly beside you. His knee is touching yours, and you smile at the fact that he isn't reserved with you after so long.
"I'm good! I just finished a bunch of backup gigs and was about to take a break and spend time with my parents, but then I got your request. I almost said no because I wanted to be with my parents, but they lowkey told me to leave them alone and spend time with you." You joke, and Ten laughs. "How are your parents?"
"I always knew your parents loved me more than you." Ten nudges your shoulder. "My parents are okay. You're gonna be surprised by how big my sister is now. I haven't told them I'm seeing you today. Should I call them?" He smiles, and you nod hysterically. You let Ten call his parents first.
"Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad! Oh, is everyone there? Great, because I have a surprise for you all." Ten talks over his family, who already started excitedly talking right when they picked up. You laugh as you hear them complain about how they haven't heard from him in so long. Ten moves the camera to put both of you in frame, and his family takes a quick pause to let out gasps of surprise before making a lot of noise again.
You hear a chorus of "Y/N!" You can hear Ten's mother start to ask about you, his father asking about your parents, and his sister tries to calm them down while also chastising Ten for not showing you sooner.
"Calm down!" Ten almost yells, and his family quiets down at this, "I just saw Y/N! I asked her to choreograph for my album, and it hasn't even been 5 minutes since we reunited! She was going to call her parents too." Ten laughs and nods at you. You do exactly that, and Ten sushes his family as you call your mother.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" Your mom asks, and you giggle. Of course, you were okay, but your mom always answered with those words just in case.
"Yes, Mom." You answer, and you see your dad peek from behind, "Look who I'm here with!" You turn the phone to show Ten, and your mother shrieks as your dad greets him. Ten's phone is alive again, and his parents are trying to communicate with yours. There's a lot of noise, and you and Ten laugh.
"I don't think we'll have enough time to talk all together, but once Y/N and I catch up, we'll make a group chat with all of us, and we can finally all catch up." Ten suggests, and you hear small yeses come from both phones. You say your goodbyes and hang up.
"Wow, so diplomatic." You tease, and Ten just shrugs with a smirk.
"What can I say?" Ten says, leaning back on the futon and bringing his hands to his head. "Now, I know you think I'm angry with you. I'm not, and I hope you're not mad at me." He says, and goes back to sitting normally, setting a serious gaze on you.
You let out a silent gasp, and you've never seen such seriousness in his face all your life. You don't bother asking how he knew what you've been thinking, just shaking your head.
"I know we've both been busy, and I've barely had time to do anything other than dance, and I know for a fact they work you to the bone here. I guess I was scared you would ask why I've never just searched your name and hit you up. But I can't reach out to you as a dancer, so I've been kinda waiting until you could reach out to me." You explain, and Ten nods as he continues staring at you. You see his eyes scan your features, as if he were memorizing how you looked now.
"I understand, Y/N. I'm not mad at all. I've been waiting to have you here somehow, to make a choreography for me, my group, or any other group here. Now that I'm having my second solo, though, they've given me a lot of creative liberty. I even argued for the single, which you'll hear soon." Ten smiles as he looks up at the clock. You look up and see you have 5 minutes left before you have to start work.
"I was gonna search up stuff about you, but I didn't. I wanted to hear you explain it. Maybe we can hang out like old times after this or any time before I leave." You offer, a little scared. You weren't sure if he'd have time for you, but the bright smile on Ten's face gives you hope.
"Yes! Give me your number, and I'll text you my address. Come over tonight. I'm still a bad cook, though, so I'll just order something." Ten grinned, handing you his phone. You take his and give yours to him, putting in your details. You watch Ten make a group chat from your phone, and add himself and your family. He gestures for his phone back and adds his family's numbers to the chat.
"Should mute this group chat or put our phones on Do Not Disturb. They're about to go crazy." Ten jokes as he types that you two are about to work, before putting his phone on Do Not Disturb. As you are about to, you suddenly get a call from the group, and show Ten, who laughs.
"Okay. Let's go, and I'll show you how much better I've gotten at singing and dancing." Ten says as he gets up, offering his hand for you to help you get up.
"Definitely not a better dancer than me, though." You tease as you get up with his help, "Your hair looks nice. I'm glad you have professionals doing your hair now."
"Bitch, I know you're thinking about my red, pre-debut hair. I still look good with red hair." Ten lightly pushes your shoulder, causing you to giggle. He leads you to the door that connects to the practice room. As you enter and greet everyone, your manager looks at you with a slightly endearing, slightly playful smile.
"I'm so excited to meet your cats!" You squeal, and Ten laughs as he unlocks his door. After finishing choreography for some of his album, mostly for Stunner, Ten somehow convinced your manager to let you stay with him as he showed you around some of SM. You managed to meet his... exuberant members.
"And this is my band's usual practice room." Ten explains as he opens the door in front of you. You watch as four men jump and make loud noises as they turn to you. "Oh, I didn't realize you guys were still here."
"Did you forget we work here?" One of his members sarcastically asks. His features are sharp, his brown hair reaches down to his neck, and he's the tallest there. You forgot that idols are supposed to be attractive, but Ten's band is stunning. You're pretty sure the man who spoke was Hendery.
"Is that your old friend?" A man with black hair and a slightly flat nose asks, bowing to you. He was calm and composed, and you knew that was the leader, Kun.
"Yeah, I'm Y/N. How did you know?" You ask, and you hear a small giggle come from the blond member with bushy eyebrows, Xiaojun.
"He still has all your photos together from back then. They're on his wall." Yangyang, the member with the gummy smile and middle part, smiles at you before smirking at the man beside you.
"Oh, really?" You smile, turning to Ten, who is now red as he nods, "I do, too. They're all in a photo album, though, but I still like to look at them whenever I'm home."
"See, you're not weird, Ten!" Hendery sings before Ten rolls his eyes and leads you out of the room.
Ten opens the door and goes in before you. You take off your shoes and stand beside Ten as he sets your takeout onto the kitchen island. Suddenly, one of his cats jumps onto the island, sniffing around.
"Leon! Get off!" Ten says, pushing Leon a little so that he understands, and he walks towards you, sniffing you. You offer your hand, and he smells it before sitting down beside you.
"This is Leon," Ten motions to the brown cat whose head is against your leg, "The one on the couch with the dark face is Louis, and this one..." He picks up the cat with a gray face now that the food is set up, "is Levi."
"Aw, they're so cute." You say as you let Levi sniff your fingers, and he gives you a little lick. You aren't aware of Ten's eyes on you, even though your faces are very close, which allows you to interact with Levi.
You look over to the side, making eye contact with Ten. His nose is close to your cheek. You feel his breath on your face, and you quickly pull back, looking to the food so that it's not awkward. Ten puts Levi on the floor, then grabs plates and utensils.
You sit on Ten's couch, where Louis now lies against your lap, and Levi sits in between you and Ten. Leon is sleeping by the TV. You and Ten continue telling each other about your lives, as there are many details to share.
When Ten told you about his life as a trainee, you told him about your life as a dance major in university. When Ten told you about his life touring with his band, you told him about your life travelling with different artists every few weeks.
Your plates are on the table by the couch for a few hours as you and Ten reminisce about your lives back then. You remember some of your biggest rivals during competitions, and you remind Ten of all his different hairstyles.
"Your hair has to be the most fried out of all your 20-something members. You've been going at it, maybe your whole life." You joke as you ruffle Ten's blond hair, and he laughs as he lets you. You are now much closer, leaning against the couch, facing each other, as the cats have left to sleep in their beds.
"You actually have to see just how many times some of them have dyed their hair. My hair is so much healthier than theirs." Ten rebuts, and you just look at him, shocked. His hair wasn't as brittle as you thought it would be, though. Of course, you remember, he's rich.
"How are you with jet lag?" Ten asks, picking up your plates and taking them to the sink. You quickly follow him, thinking he was going to wash your dish, and you were going to stop him, but he immediately puts your plate in the dishwasher, so you stay silent.
"I'm actually not tired at all. I slept on the plane, and I arrived last night. I was a bit tired at SM, but I guess I had enough energy that I'm not tired right now. Why?" You ask, checking your phone for the time. 11:45 P.M. You wonder if your manager has already fallen asleep.
"Well, you don't have to go back to your hotel. We can have another sleepover for old time's sake." Ten smiles, leaning against the island directly in front of you. He uses his elbows to support himself, and he looks good. "But I'd understand if you wanna go back to your manager."
"Since when were you so understanding? The old Ten would have been annoying until I said yes." You tease, stepping a little closer. Ten smirks and stands up straighter, still leaning against the island.
"Maybe because I know you're not gonna say no." Ten leers. You try not to waver, keeping up the playfulness by rolling your eyes. "I was thinking we could go out and take a walk."
"Since you want me to so bad, sure." You groan, but Ten can see the excitement in your eyes, and he smiles. He nods towards the door, and you put your shoes back on. He puts on a cap and a mask and grabs a sweater before opening the door, saying bye to the cats as you leave.
Ten takes you on a walk from his building to the park nearby. There's a comfortable silence as you look around at the greenery along the road you're walking and the bright city lights nearby. Ten watches your face through his peripheral vision, enjoying the curiosity and wonder on your face.
Ten stops you once you've reached the entrance of a park. It's simple, with a few trees lining the entrance like a fence, and you can see benches and fountains along the path. The small lights illuminating the path make it feel more romantic, and you're thankful the night sky is masking your blush.
You follow Ten to a bench directly in front of a larger fountain. Your view overlooks a cliff, offering a glimpse of the bright buildings. Ten takes his mask and cap off as he sits down beside you.
"I really like this park. It's very peaceful, especially late at night." Ten whispers, still looking at the view. "Does this remind you of exam season before we left?"
"Of course it does." You answer with a small nod. You were terribly stressed that year, and one of the only things that gave you solace was going for walks with Ten to nearby parks, sometimes sneaking out of your house late at night to meet him.
"Whenever I go to a park, whether it's here or in another country, I just think about us back then. I really missed having you around." You can hear Ten's voice waver, and your heart beats fast. "Maybe it's the benches. I feel like when I sit down beside anyone, I just think about you. But now that I'm finally with you, it's... strange."
"How so?" You ask, turning towards your friend, who's now looking down at his feet. You turn your knees to face him, and Ten takes notice, looking at them. He looks up to you before speaking.
"I don't know. You're here, and I still wanna know everything. I know we've spent the whole day talking about ourselves, but I want to see if you still do things the same and have the same opinions on everything. Like, I don't want distance between us again." Ten confesses, and your heart is somehow beating even faster. Is this him being a good friend or more?
"I also just want to be with you like we used to be. I'm just happy I finally have your number. I'd rather live my life only seeing you through a screen than not seeing you at all." You respond, now looking down at your lap. When you look up again, though, you can see a frown on Ten's face, despite how dark it is.
"Did you know I had a crush on you?" Ten suddenly drops, and you're sure he can see the shock on your face. "My mom and my sister always told me it was really obvious, and when you left, they might have thought I'd fall into depression, so they took me out the entire day before my flight and asked the staff and other trainees to watch over me 'extremely closely.'"
"I had a crush on you, too. I feel like my mom sensed it years before I did. I know she cared about you, but sometimes when she asked about you or us, it felt like she was giving me a small therapy session. I never explicitly told her, I think, but it was kinda unspoken between us." You admit, and Ten's frown has turned into a small smile.
"I brought all of the pictures of us here. When I moved into my dorm as a trainee, everyone made fun of me. Kept calling you my girlfriend. They're all nice, though, they would ask about you a lot. When I moved in with WayV, they still didn't mind. Now I'm almost 30, and I still have our old pictures up in my room." Ten chuckles, and you move closer to him on the bench, letting out a small laugh.
Ten feels your sudden heat and moves an arm to rest behind you on the bench. This allows you to move a little closer to him, even though the night air isn't cool.
"Do you think your company will like me? That way, I can keep making choreographies and see you?" You ask, slowly moving your head to lie on his shoulder. Ten puts his head on top of yours so that you can land on his shoulder faster.
"Of course. Everyone already loved your dance for Stunner's chorus. I honestly think I'm super lucky that you see my vision for that song and can help me show everyone it was the best choice." Ten breaths. He lifts his head up a little, turning it to look more directly at yours.
Your faces are close again, and you take the time to admire Ten's face, which is brightened by the path's lights and the moon. He looks over your face, colourful from the city lights behind him.
"I think spending all this time with you just made me realize I've always loved you." Ten professes in whispers, and you feel his warm breath on your face. You want to melt in your spot.
"Me too, Ten." You swoon, and you would have cringed at your delivery if it weren't for his hand on your cheek, lifting you from his shoulder.
Ten places his other hand on your waist, making you straighten up. You put your hands on his neck, bringing your bodies closer.
"Fuck, I've been waiting for this." Ten whispers before finally putting your lips together. The kiss is tender, and you're thankful it was empty in the park. Between each kiss, you would touch foreheads, looking into each other's eyes before going back for a kiss.
After a few kisses, Ten pulls away, and both of his hands are on your cheeks as he gives you a big smile. "I've waited too long. After practice today, I want to take you out on a date. Stay with me tonight, though? I don't want you to be tired in the morning. I just want to be beside you." He pleads.
You put your hands on Ten's cheeks, nodding as you didn't know if you could express how cute his words were and how admired you felt. He smiles before getting up, then takes your hands and pulls you up. He puts his disguise back on before putting an arm out for you to link yours through.
"I hope your manager doesn't kill me for stealing you," Ten jokes, and you laugh. "I also hope she doesn't kill me when I ask for you to stay a few days so I can introduce you to my friends. Maybe even longer so that my family can fly out and see you again. Should I arrange for your parents to come too?"
can i req hard launching with wayv (just to see yangyang tbh but~) i love ur posts sm. - yangyang anon 🐑
wayv : hard launching them
⤷ warning: ten gets called a slut & whore (AS A JOKE!!)
annas note: yangyang anon🐑 have i ever told u how much i love u sm. THANKYOU for requesting wayv.. (this was an excuse for me to do my man kun too☺️ i get it!!) (im sorry this took me so long to post omfg IM SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING LIKE THIS)
A/N: second drabble of the day???? Ohhhhh she's WRITINGGG!! 2/10 drabbles
"ten, i told you to take the trash out today," you complained. it has been a really long day for you and the sight of the unemptied trash almost sets you off. It may seem simple, but you feel like you're the only one making an effort to keep the house clean and that exhausts you.
"i'll do it later, baby," ten replied indifferently, still scrolling on his phone.
his reply was like adding fuel to the fire. it was enough to tip you over the edge, but your anger was silent. it was so silent that somehow you wished it was loud. loud enough so at least someone would know. at least someone would notice. but it wasnt, so you decided to take the trash out quietly.
you were tired. making your way to the bed, you laid down on your side, purposely facing away from him. ten noticed the sudden silence. he knew you all too well, this was your quiet kind of anger.
his hands hovered over your waist, before he let out a quiet sigh.
"yn..."
in a world where you thought no one would notice, he would, in a heartbeat.
"im sorry, i should have taken the trash out," he said softly, hugging your back. you kept silent, as he drew circles on your wrist with his thumb.
you heard him move away, but felt a blanket draped around both of you shortly after.
"you can get mad at me... but im really sorry,"
"i love you," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your cheeks.