Ben had to wonder which deity he'd accidentally slighted to be thrown into this many painfully awkward moments.
It began shortly after Sean left the dance studio. He and Daniel had gotten to work on their routine, but not even ten minutes in, Daniel's frown deepened like a storm cloud ready to burst. And then, in full dramatic glory, he collapsed to the floor with a theatrical groan, flinging an arm over his forehead like a lovesick heiress from a 60s film.
"Ben-ah," Daniel wailed, "I think our concept is wrong."
Ben didn't even flinch. He crossed his arms and stared down at him, unimpressed. "Says the guy who thought 'Desire' meant artistic expression two days ago."
Daniel peeked at him from under his arm, looking sheepish. "Well, I never really thought about it that deeply…"
Ben raised a brow. "Do you ever?"
Daniel gasped, as if Ben had accused him of stomping on puppies. "Excuse you! I do think! Not very often about metaphors, but still."
Ben rolled his eyes, utterly immune to the melodrama. "Okay, so what is it now? What's wrong with the concept?"
Daniel pushed himself up, huffing like a wronged Victorian ghost. "The concept felt right yesterday, but now that we're actually building the routine, it's off. It feels more like…" His voice dropped, "...longing. Like someone praying to a God that'll never answer. It's too sad."
Ben blinked.
Now that Daniel had said it out loud, it did feel off. Desire wasn't sorrow or longing in a fancy costume. It was heat, passion, an unbearable pull, and the craving to feel something deeper.
Ben exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's true, but it only makes this harder."
Daniel nodded, his usual brightness dimmed by rare seriousness. "We only have four days left, including today. And we need the choreography locked in and muscle memory sharp, or we're toast."
Ben gave a tired chuckle, but the weight of the pressure sat heavily between them.
Daniel sat on the studio floor, hugging his knees loosely, eyes focused on a spot somewhere near Ben's socks.
"I never thought I'd struggle with a theme like this," Daniel admitted, resting his chin on his knee. "Desire. I thought it was just… drive. Wanting something badly enough to chase it."
Ben tilted his head, watching him.
There was a brief silence before Daniel's brows knit together. "But desiring a person… that's confusing. Isn't it just lust?"
Ben's eyes widened.
Daniel looked up and met his gaze, eyes steady. "Is that what you want from me?"
Ben choked on air, coughing like he had inhaled smoke. "Hyung—! What?! No! I mean, technically yes, but that's not the point!"
He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I'm not lusting after you, hyung. If it were just that, this would be way easier."
Daniel raised a brow, silently asking, And what is that supposed to mean?
Ben inhaled slowly, trying to piece together thoughts from his emotional rubble. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to confess to a crime.
"I'm not good at this," he muttered. "But it's different, okay? Do you really think I'd be standing here trying to explain how I feel if sex was all I wanted?" He let out a breath. "If that were the case, I'd keep it simple. I'd just ask to hook up."
That was followed by silence.
Ben swallowed, his ears glowing red. There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes when he added, "I want all of you, hyung. Not just one part."
Daniel blinked, processing that, cheeks tinting faintly pink. "I… guess that makes sense." His voice softened. "But we still have to dance together. And, well, you are struggling."
Ben slumped back. "Yeah. I know. I'll manage."
Daniel nodded; the drama peeled away. He sat cross-legged and said, "I'll look for references."
Ben gave an awkward little nod. "I need a break. Just... five minutes."
"Okay," Daniel said, eyes on his phone.
Ben walked out of the studio like a man fleeing a battlefield. He didn't make it far before crouching in the hallway, burying his face in his arms.
"Ben," he muttered to himself, voice muffled and miserable, "neon jinjja manghaetda" [You are really screwed up.]
***
When Ben walked back into the studio, Daniel was already upright and practically vibrating with excitement.
Ben slowed his steps. His emotions had been swinging like a wind-chime in a typhoon lately, and Daniel's energy was already throwing off his fragile internal balance.
Still, he smiled through the chaos. "Why do you look like you just uncovered the Da Vinci Code?"
Daniel turned, and his eyes lit up like Christmas. He sprinted over, phone in hand like it was an artifact from a holy shrine.
"Bennie, I found the perfect reference!" he announced. "A dance of desire between two guys! Igeo bwa!" [Look at this.]
He shoved the phone into Ben's face with pride. Ben looked and regretted everything. It wasn't just a dance. It was foreplay disguised as choreography. And the more he watched, the more he felt like an unconsenting witness to someone's private bedroom activities.
He nearly dropped the phone.
"YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS," he gasped, horror-stricken.
Daniel, as if that was a normal reaction to high art, blinked. "I am. It feels raw and intense."
"Hyung," Ben hissed, scandalised, "That freaking dance is just… just bedroom acts on display! Are you trying to kill me?!"
Daniel turned as red as a bottle of schezwan sauce. "But we need something this bold. Our current version just feels too melancholic…"
Ben, somewhere in his tortured soul, knew Daniel was right. But admitting that would mean agreeing to reenact what he just saw with Daniel in public, with cameras. And frankly, Ben wasn't sure whether he'd survive that with his dignity or sanity intact.
He inhaled, sharp and brittle. "Hyung, I cannot do this kind of dance with you."
Daniel's face fell, enthusiasm deflating like a balloon jabbed with a pencil. "I'll make it easier. I promise. This competition is important to me," Daniel added softly, "and I can't win this round without you."
And there it was.
The final nail in Ben's coffin. The guillotine blade of emotional blackmail, forged out of Daniel's stupid honesty and dream-chasing eyes.
Why, Ben thought miserably, why did I have to fall for a guy who wears his ambition like a crown and doesn't even know he's dragging me into a war I'll lose?
"I'll do it," Ben muttered, resigned to his fate.
Daniel lit up. "Gomawo, Ben-ah!" [Thank you]
"But," Ben raised a warning finger, "no literal foreplay on stage. Cut down the intimacy. I want zero chances of landing a lawsuit."
Daniel nodded, looking serious. "I was thinking the same. Let's make it intense, but not like… you know."
"LIKE WE'RE DOING IT ON STAGE?" Ben screeched.
"Yeah, that," Daniel said helpfully.
Ben muttered, dragging his hands down his face. "Why do you hate me, Universe?"