phenomenalgirl9

✨Toni 💕

Just your random kpop girl and her Masterlist

992 posts

Excuses.

🥺🥺🥺🥺

—excuses.

pairing: lee minho x reader

genre: fluff, (very recent) established relationship

word count: 2.3k

summary: you ask your boyfriend for some private dancing lessons, and although he hears you loud and clear, he still manages to believe you're just making up excuses for him to come over.

a/n: helloo, this was comissioned by the lovely @hyunholights and i had so much fun writing it! although i think i made myself soft now ;-; lol. i hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your support and for being so sweet<3

comissions are still open!

"Wait, so when you said you wanted me to come over tonight and teach you to dance, you actually meant teaching you to dance?"

Staring at your boyfriend perplexed as ever, you blinked two times before looking around in a silent response — the coffee table in your living room had been pushed aside to leave a fair amount of space to move around, your favourite rug had been rolled up and placed by one of the corners so it wouldn't be damaged by all the stomping you had supposed there would be, and two bottles of water had been carefully placed next to a pair of personal towels, just in case you got too tired and sweated more than you had expected to.

Furthermore, the outfit you were wearing seemed to be the cherry on top. Looking down at it, you fidgeted with the zip of the black hoodie you were wearing over your grey sport bra, which perfectly matched your favourite pair of sweatpants — the very ones that you often wore around the house just because of how comfortable they were, and that would finally be put to a good, productive use today.

All those very obvious hints alone were enough to answer your boyfriend's question.

Unlike you, he was standing by the entrance of your living room holding two bags of takeout food he had dropped by to get before showing up at your place. Granted, he was wearing a sportswear too, but that had to do with the fact that he had just finished dance practice with his group members back at the JYPE building, and not with him having come here well prepared to help you out with your deficient —as you liked to call them— dancing skills.

"I thought I made it clear when we texted last night?" you couldn't help the utter confusion in your voice.

"You said you wanted me to come over tonight" he pointed out. "After practice".

"Yes," you agreed. "Which was followed by 'to give me dancing lessons'".

"I thought it was just an excuse to have me come over".

You stood there like the human version of the standing still emoji, and if it weren't for the fact that Minho could see in your eyes the way the wheels inside your head were turning as they tried and made sense of how he could have reached such a conclusion, he would've laughed.

"Why would I need an excuse to have you come over, you're my boyfriend…"

"I knoww," he whined, looking the cutest to you when he threw his head back in exasperation. "I guess I'm still not used to it".

"To be my boyfriend?" you raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean".

Cute, you thought. He had asked you to be his girlfriend only a little under a month ago and he still felt like he needed an excuse to just drop by and see you.

Maybe you should've been more specific when you asked him to come here the night prior. Although you didn't know how much more specific than 'you should come over tomorrow after practice to give me some dancing lessons' you could get.

"Well, from now on… just know that me inviting you over doesn't immediately translate to 'come over so we can have an indoor date and make out the whole time'".

"Aww, but those are the best kind of invitations" he pouted, bringing heat up to your face as he carefully let go of the bags in his hands to hold your waist and pull you closer instead.

"So…" you cleared your throat in an attempt to shake the butterflies in your stomach off. "Are you giving me dancing lessons or…"

"Let's eat first" he proposed, picking up the bags and placing the food on your coffee table before he moved it back to its previous spot in front of the sofa. "I just got off practice like an hour ago and I'm starving".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

What was supposed to be just having dinner before getting started with the dancing lessons had soon turned into 'let's rest for a bit before we start moving around', which was later followed by 'let's watch some TV in the meantime' and him pulling you to his body — his thumb tenderly running up and down your waist while he switched channels before you could even give him an answer.

When said 'meantime' turned into 40 minutes, a second episode of the old k-drama they were replaying on TV, and Minho's head falling on your shoulder as he began to helplessly drift off, you started to get the idea that there would not be such thing as 'dancing lessons' from your boyfriend that night.

"You're not teaching me shit, are you?"

Although your words had come out monotonous as ever, the smile that remained curved up in the corners of your mouth could only give away how far away from mad you were at that.

"Mm… what?" he mumbled, heavily opening his eyes before he sat back up.

"We'll just stay like this all night?" you changed your question, bringing up a hand to remove a strand of hair that was covering his eye.

He sighed, closing his eyes again as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him. "I wouldn't mind".

A muffled laugh escaped your mouth, as you had just crashed against his chest and were not able to move away from his tight grip.

"Minho~" you cutely complained. "Please, I need to learn how to dance".

"Whyy~" he imitated the tone you had used.

"Because I suck at it" you pouted.

"Who cares".

"I care," you stated. "I mean, how could I not when I'm dating one of Korea's best dancers".

That had seemed to catch his attention. Not a second went by before his palms were pressed on your shoulders and he was pushing you away from him, so he could look you dead in the eye. "Wait, you're serious?"

"About you being one of the best dancers in our country?"

"No, not—" he couldn't help the breathy laugh that had just escaped his mouth, getting shy at your genuine compliment. "I'm not, that's n—"

"Yes, you are" you frowned.

"No, I'm—Y/N~" he whined, flustered as ever; much to your enjoyment. "I mean what you said about wanting to learn because you're dating me".

"Well… yeah, of course" you mumbled.

"But why?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling ashamed of your own answer and having to look down at your fidgeting hands. "I don't know… you just really love dancing and are so good at it, and I can't coordinate my limbs for shit and I guess I just… wanna feel like I'm on your level or something…"

"On my level?" Minho asked softly.

"Yeah, like, you know…" your eyes remained fixed still on your hands. "To feel like I'm a good enough match for you and ugh, this is becoming so sappy".

Hiding your face in your hands and bringing your knees up to your chest, you heard Minho's light laugh right next to you as you had just curled into a ball of shame right there.

He didn't let you sulk for much longer, though, for his hands were quick to gently grab yours and remove them from your face — your eyes opening in a heartbeat only to be met by that soft look of his that would always manage to turn your heart into a puddle.

"You're so cute," he cooed, cupping your face in his warm hands and pressing a loving kiss on your forehead. "We've been dating for a while now…"

"Twenty four days" you reminded him.

He rolled his eyes in amusement. "Twenty four days officially," he was the one to remind you this time. "We were still together for a while before that, and I never needed you to dance for me to fall for you and consider you good enough. Actually, I've never even seen you dance at all".

"Because I suck at it," you pouted. "You'd leave me in a second if you ever saw me".

"And yet you wanted me to give you dance lessons today? Like, you do realise that in order for me to do that I'd have to see you dance, don't you?" he tilted his head in feigned confusion, a taunting smirk curving up his lips. "Was that your plan all along? Getting rid of me by showing me your dance moves?"

"Shut upp," you whined, allowing a fake cry to abandon your lips as you threw your head back and freed yourself from his hold. "Maybe I didn't think this through".

Minho laughed hard at that, heart squeezing in his chest as he saw the prominent pout in your mouth while your arms remained folded over your chest. Fuck, you had his heart. All you had to do was sit there looking all cute for him to feel like he was going mad.

All you had to do was pout for him to feel the need to kiss it away.

So, he did.

Placing a hand on your nape, he leaned in to press his lips on yours.

Although taken aback, you did not waste another second to kiss him back — leaning your body closer to him and digging your fingers in his hair as he trapped your bottom lip in his once more and deepened the kiss, just enough for you to contentedly hum in the middle of it.

"What was that for?" you whispered, still too drunk on his delicious touch to properly speak.

"You're cute" he smiled.

Heart fluttering at his words, you could not bring yourself to move away as he lovingly traced his thumb over your bottom lip, without another word leaning in to steal one last brief kiss from your lips before he stood up and held his hand out for you to grab.

"Come on, I'll teach you the basics".

Reluctantly grabbing his hand, you let him pull you up to your feet. "Wait, help me move the coffee table again".

Your boyfriend shook his head no, taking his phone out of his pocket as he looked for what you guessed was a song to dance to in it. "We won't need much space for this".

Falling quiet the moment he hit play and placed his phone on the couch's armrest, you listened carefully at the notes that sounded all too familiar to you — too focused trying to pinpoint what song it was for you to realise your boyfriend was now pulling you closer, placing your arms over his shoulders and then resting his hands on your waist.

You only snapped out of it when the singer's voice reached your ears. And that's when it hit you.

K. by Cigarettes After Sex.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" you teased, finally wrapping your arms around his neck like he had wanted you to.

"Don't," Minho warned you, not being able to fight the shy smile on his face.

Letting out a small giggle, you relaxed under his touch, allowing him to guide you through the slow beat and getting lost in the way his body ever so softly moved along with yours.

This being the one song you were obsessed with when the two of you met and started talking, as well as the very song that had oh-so-casually made it to Minho's top 10 most played songs ranking that same month, could only make your heart melt more than it already had.

You couldn't help but rest your face on his chest, closing your eyes and inhaling that sweet scent of his that made you feel at home in such a short period of time, and that you could never grow tired of.

"You're not falling asleep now, are you?" he whispered when the last chorus of the song was about to come.

You laughed under your breath, unconsciously tickling his neck with your nose as you denied with your head.

"I gotta give it to you," you smiled, going back to his eye level. "Choosing something I can't really fuck up is surely the way to go".

"Oh, I couldn't care less about you fucking up a dance".

"Why slow dancing then?" you tilted your head.

"Because I wanted to hold you close" he let his forehead rest on yours. "And because slow dancing is the only dance you need to know around me".

"Is that so?"

"Mhm…" he nodded.

"What if I still want you to teach me harder dance routines, though…"

"I can still do that," he pointed out. "But slow songs are better to dance to".

You snorted, incredulously. "Since when?"

"Since you're my designated partner for it" he smiled, leaning in to steal a soft kiss from you before the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk. "And, I mean, I'm practically doing you a favour, since you keep coming up with all these lame excuses for me to come over and have these indoor dates only for us to end up making out at some point".

"That is so no—"

You didn't get the chance to argue with his taunting accusation, for his smiling mouth on yours was all it took to shut you up.

In the end, whether needed or not anymore, maybe you should come up with more lame excuses for him to come over, as long as it meant you would get to feel the warmth of his body against yours and the sweetness of his mouth on your own.

Excuses.

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