Fics like Poundcake

Jisung's choreography teacher is Lee Minho. Drenched in rainwater from head to toe, wet bangs stamped to his forehead, dripping. His clothes clinging to his body, sweatpants soaked, shoes squelching against the polished hardwood flooring. Grimaces at the sound echoing through the room. A bag over one of his shoulders that Jisung hopes has an extra pair of clothes inside somewhere, stowed away at the bottom. Minho’s beady eyes are shining, drops of water running down his face, wet lashes clumped together, skin damp and glowing under the fluorescents. He tugs the front of his shirt, pulling it away from his skin as his face twists into a horrid scowl. Big arms, wide chest, taut muscles. Jisung wonders if Minho’s shirt is supposed to be that tight around him, clinging to all of his muscles, or if perhaps it’s the rain. (OR where jisung is bad at dancing, minho helps in his own way, and jisung pretends he's not falling.)

Fics like Poundcake

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