@Kaloobia
Okay so I wrote this bit about two years back? I think? It's a story I want to go back to, because I never finished it and I really like the chemistry I had going with these two in particular, as well as with all the other characters.
So here's what I've dubbed the 'Ice Dance' scene. Some context: Jun is new in the dance school (only just transferred), and he gets quickly attached to Kyle, who's his dance partner on days when Cora is missing (who gets sick often) and who usually dances with Kyle. Jun, in an unfortunate combination of inexperience and misinterpretation of signals, tries to kiss Kyle after they've known each other only a couple of weeks, which is uncool on several levels, and freaks out Kyle, who's demi-romantic to begin with and has only just started tolerating Jun as someone he might actually want to be friends with (Kyle's sort of an asshole). So yeah after avoiding each other a couple of days they agree to forget the incident ever happened, but they're still on thin ice around each other. In this scene, they've stayed behind after class and are practicing a phrase together (because Jun is Not Up To Kyle's Standards). Anyway this got long and the extract's pretty short I'm sorry HERE WE GO:
Kyle’s eyes, half-lidded in concentration, burn holes into him as they inspect Jun’s face, his muscles, his movements.
He can feel Kyle’s breath on his lips, on his neck, his body pressing against Jun’s and melting into his touch, flowing into, onto, out of his arms like an ice cold river. He gets a little closer every time he comes back, stays close to him a little longer. He’s fluid and graceful and beautiful and it’s exhilarating. He gets close, so close, too close-
Kyle’s movements cease. Their faces are barely an inch apart, Jun has no idea how, why, and now Kyle is staring at him but not with the same look as before. It’s untrusting, closed off, menaced.
Don’t look at me that way.
Kyle takes a step back; he waits a beat, then nods, signaling that they continue. His jaw is tightly clenched.
I’m not like that.
They keep dancing, keep moving, maybe to distract themselves, maybe to keep the heat of their perspiration in the air, because there’s no heat left between them. It’s cold, and stiff, and awkward, almost like the first time they danced together, when Jun didn’t quite know what he was doing, when he was still scared of Kyle.
I’m not going to take advantage of you.
Now it’s like their roles have switched.
I won’t kiss you again. Not without asking.
Jun’s heart is beating too fast and it isn’t pleasant anymore; his chest is cold and craves to have Kyle pressed up against him again.
I don’t want to use you.
Kyle’s eyes are distant; they avoid Jun’s gaze.
Please trust me.
Please.
Their dance comes to a finish: maybe Jun isn’t supposed to hold Kyle close, chest to back, maybe he isn’t supposed to wrap his arms around his waist, around his chest, maybe he isn’t supposed to bury his face into the nape of Kyle’s neck because maybe that isn’t how the phrase ends. He does it anyway. Kyle makes no move to dislocate himself from the embrace. He’s breathing quickly, quietly, trying not to make a sound in the vast, dark, silent room. Jun nuzzles his hair: it smells of sweat and shampoo, it’s soft and airy and perfect. He’s perfect. Jun hugs him, shares the warmth, wants to trail butterfly kisses onto his shoulders but knows that’s going too far. This is going too far.
“…We should get going,” Kyle says at last, voice low, making no move to leave. Jun hums lightly, lips parted and pressed softly against Kyle’s neck. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay like this, because this might be his last chance in forever. His last chance to touch him, to feel him, to have him this close without Kyle trying to pull away.
But he obeys. He steps away, and the cold air hits him so hard that for a moment it’s hard to breath. Kyle visibly shivers, too. The silence is thick and heavy and hangs in the air like a storm.
Kyle doesn’t even glance at him before going back to the dressing room, and by the time Jun gets there he’s gone.
