white woven shirt

B-DAY (Dirty Dancin’) {Baekhyun x Reader}

Originally posted by blondejongin

Inspired by Tank’s “B-Day” feat. Chris Brown

A/N: I HIGHLYY RECOMMEND LISTENING TO TANK’S SONG “B-DAY” DURING THE READING OF THIS FIC.

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: I dunno, fluff? You’ll see when you read it…

Sypnosis: Byun Baekhyun proves to be the best dancing teacher you’ll ever have.

A/N: Baekhyun’s outfit in the fic is the same as the one in the gif.

 

The club was not at all a place you’d ever envisioned yourself to joyously be at. Drunken dancers, languid strippers and puddles of harsh-smelling liquor in random spots of the floor. That was not at all your taste. Not one little bit. You were more of the type to lounge on the couch, hair shoved in the reprimands of a tight rubber band as a lazy bun sits stiff above your head, Big Bang Theory episodes and MTV specials blaring nonchalantly. Clubs just weren’t your thing.

It had been a birthday present from your friend Mei; a trip to the club surely would rid you of the stress of college exams and make you ultimately let go of everything that’d been worrying you. Even when you tried to tell her that you were just fine, she’d shush you and tell you to get ready, shamelessly encouraging you to wear something nice.

It was a fairly big club with two doors for sleek escape on each side. The bartender and his palace of drinks were on the far side, a few feet away from the hyperactively dancing people. As soon as you walked inside, you noticed a great majority of those people were drunk. In fact, it seemed the ones who weren’t drunk attracted your attention, specifically some of the guys. Even though you’d come with no intention of a drunken body leaning against yours, you couldn’t deny most of those guys were cute; particularly a leather-jacketed blonde in the center of the mob, brown eyes flickering through the crowd without much interest. Your eyes found him easily. He didn’t look much like anybody else in the club nor did he carry the similar aura. He was a mysterious guy, but one that still held a glow of innocence and youth.

Mei went off to fetch drinks and you sat in one of the chairs at the bar, playing with the small plastic cups for shots. The song playing was not at all familiar, carrying a heavy bass that sent tremors through your ears and seeping with dirty lyrics that made you cringe mentally.

You felt a tap on your shoulder just as the song faded into incoherent murmurs of the next and briefly turned your head, eyes still fixed in a somewhat haggard daze. It was the blonde from the dance floor, sandy hair in a rumpled heap, jacket limply hanging on his shoulders, piercing brown eyes staring deep into yours. No words formulated for a moment, sinking in a drizzled heap to the bottom of your throat.

He was so handsome. More striking than any man you’d ever seen.

His lips curled into a smile as he stared you down. “I was only looking for directions to a hotel, but I think I might stay.”

You smiled too, completely puzzled on why on Earth you were blushing for a man you didn’t even know. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

The man adopted a puzzled expression. “Are you from here? I feel like I would’ve heard of a beauty like you around here.”

“I go to the community college here. I’m a freshman.”

“Freshman?” His eyes twinkled lucidly in the glowing lights of the club. “So you’re a newbie?”

“You could say that.”

“Hm.” The man extended a hand. “I’m Byun Baekhyun. I just graduated from Boston Tech.”

“Boston?” You raised an eyebrow, stiffly shaking his hand. “That’s all the way up north, isn’t it?”

“Cousins live there,” Baekhyun droned, staring as the bartender fixed another drink. “I majored in Communications.”

“Cool.” You didn’t know why, but you found yourself getting interested in Baekhyun. “I want to be a psychologist. It’s always been on my mind.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun nodded his head. “That’s not bad. You look like the psychology type.”

“Thanks?”

“No problemo.” Baekhyun reached over your shoulder to collect a small plastic cup slid his way. He winked at the bartender, flashing him an ardent smile. “Cousin Vinny,” he explained in response to your quizzical expression. “Real tyke.”

“Isn’t that a movie?”

“And the name of my cousin, yes.” Baekhyun took a quick swig of the drink. “He’s the only one not in Boston. Is that your friend there?”

You turn to see Mei ambling over, two drinks in hand and a comical smile playing on her lips.

“Here’s a little birthday drink,” Mei hands you the glass as Baekhyun coos with fresh surprise.

“Tonight’s your birthday?”

You nodded. “Nineteenth.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun took another swig. “My birthday was last week. Just turned twenty.”

“Hm.” You went to press the glass to your lips, but Baekhyun suddenly set out a hand to stop you. He raised his own half-empty cup above his head.

“To (Y/N).” The two of you clinked your glasses together and swept down a hearty swig.

“Happy birthday, princess,” Baekhyun set down his empty cup. “Hm…and a perfect song comes on.”

Shinee’s “Feel Good”, a song you actually knew, was blaring through the speakers, heavy bass pumping through the club.

Baekhyun slid out a hand. “Wanna dance, birthday girl?”

If there was something you absolutely did not do, it was dance. You were horrible at it. You could never sway your body to the flow of the music just right and you weren’t at all confident.

“I’m going to have to say no,” you gently declined. “I don’t dance.”

“And I don’t give offers,” Baekhyun intoned, “yet I made an exception.”

You looked at the crowd of bustling people, grinding and dancing against each other like the drunken fools they were.

You curtly slid out of your chair and Baekhyun slid a hand to the small of your back, idly guiding you to the dance floor. The strobe lights above you splashed to every end of the floor as you and Baekhyun faced each other, the chorus busting out loud and true:

“I can make you feel good.”

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled playfully as he bobbed to the music, one hand gripping your hand, the other tapping against his thigh. He seemed to be one of these types of natural dancers, who found themselves fluidly moving their bodies to the smallest of beats and the shortest of tempos. The look in his eyes said it all. It was as if the music had consumed him: his eyes seemed to have grown darker, his hips had instinctively started responding to the rhythm, swaying gently to the beat.

“Like this song?” you said to distract him from the fact that you weren’t moving.

“Love it,” Baekhyun muttered, his body naturally grinding into yours. “You?”

“Yeah,” you insentiently tapped a foot, but you didn’t feel a spark of excitement like what was coursing through Baekhyun.

“You’re not a dancer, are you?” he said, a warm smile that showed his pearly white teeth living on his face. You shook your head and he tenderly caressed your hands. “I can tell.”

“Sorry if I’m wasting your time.” You had warned him.

“Oh no. The fun’s just beginning.” An impish grin grew on his face as the song droned louder through the speakers. “Now tell me, what’s your problem with dancing?”

“There’s no problem, I just don’t like it. And it doesn’t like me.”

Baekhyun’s grin didn’t sweep off his face. “You mean you don’t feel the passion in it?”

His body moved closer to yours and the leather jacket slid smoothly off his shoulders, revealing the long-sleeved woven white shirt beneath. You watched as the jacket slowly hit the ground and a drunken bearded man nearly tripped over it.

Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed directly on you as he suddenly let go of your hands, stepping back into the throng of people dancing the night away.

“Watch me,” he whispered. “Watch how I move.”

He started with slow, gentle movements first. He zealously swayed his hips left and right, eyes shut against the tantalizing beat of the music, and let his body speak for itself. Sometimes he would helplessly thrust his hips through the air, eliciting a soft grunt as his face momentarily scrunched up. Next, he would slowly grind his body to the beat, hips rolling to and fro as he just let the music overtake him to far, unreachable heights. That’s how it seemed to Baekhyun. Like the moment he set his feet down on the floor, the music drifted him to a new era, a new place, where he was just himself, dancing and grinding leisurely to the tune of his ecstasy.

Sometimes the heat of his fervor would get too much for the both of you, and Baekhyun would quickly stop his movements, billowing harsh, ragged breaths through those thin pink lips of his as his eyes flittered open to find you still there.

Still watching him.

Then, regaining his previous confidence, he’d go faster, mixing all his movements together to form a silent, fluid oath to the song itself; his own physical affirmation of his love to this lenient form of unforgivable expression. The song ends with a few last cordial notes of adieu and Baekhyun rolls his hips one last time in farewell, stopping completely as the song briefly changes.

Gentle guitar riffs.

Sultry susurrating vocals.

It’s the opening of The Weeknd’s “Wicked Games”.

Another frisky grin briefly marks Baekhyun’s alluring features as he advances towards you again, eyes flickering with excitement. You’re still partially breathless from Baekhyun’s performance, feeling like his passion took you on some kind of ride and now you’re descending from your high.

“Your turn.” His nose brushes against yours and he deviously licks his lips, slowly planting his hands on your hips.

“You don’t expect me to do all that, do you?”

Baekhyun laughs, smoothing out your dress with his hands. “It wouldn’t be a bad show.”

You sigh, obviously disgruntled on how you’re losing an incredibly hot dance to an incredibly hot man. Baekhyun, reading your tension accurately, gently rests his forehead against yours.

“There shouldn’t be any stress. Dancing is like meditation: it’s a way to free yourself beyond the confinements of humanity and in the hands of your own happiness. There aren’t any rules and there isn’t pressure. Just be you.”

It was as if Baekhyun’s words had planted some type of fire inside of you. You closed your eyes, letting your body soak in the music as the bass seemed to drum in your own heart.

Your hips had a mind of their own; they rose to meet Baekhyun’s so the fabric of his shirt met the sleekness of your dress. You felt him move carefully, almost sinfully against you, hips rubbing delicately against yours as the song droned, igniting a deeper fire in your stomach. You tapped your feet as Baekhyun led you gingerly into the next move and you followed easily, swaying your hips to The Weeknd’s sleek vocals as Baekhyun gently mouthed instructions in your ear, making your body move to his liking as if you were his own little robot. You rocked and swerved your body supplely against his, letting the music sink deep into you and never seep out. Hands on your hips, Baekhyun swayed you gently from side to side and you flittered open your eyes. You stared deeply at each other, still moving fluidly to the tune of your passion as Baekhyun leads you into more amative motions of euphoria. He slowly twirls you around, admiring the sleek locks of hair falling gracefully onto your back. You run your hands down his sinuously rolling hips, feeling the skin underneath slightly tremble from your touch.

The song ends and you feel the fire burn out just that quick; the ashes in your stomach stir nonchalantly as Baekhyun lets go of your hand.

“Better now?”

Words aren’t needed for response. Instead, you lightly shove him backwards, watching him stumble weakly, and draw out a few moves of your own, gently thrusting your hips to the sound of a more upbeat, funky number.

Baekhyun laughs in response, watching you twirl lucidly on your heels. He reaches out to stop you, tenderly placing his hands on your waist. “So we’re good then?”

Baekhyun gives you the time of your life. You dance in all sorts of ways at all sorts of speeds, going from laughing and sniggering together, to grinding and using your bodies to smoothly caress each other with such slowness it’s almost painful to the eye. You’ve never felt such adrenaline, never felt such glee at the sweat pouring from your temples. One last song rings out its call to the night and Baekhyun, grinning his large and playful smile, leans down to pick up his jacket. He fondles with the pockets, pulling out a thin sheet of white paper and extracting a fine pen from his pocket. On it, he scribbles what you insist is a cell phone number, an apartment address, and maybe even the number of one of those cousins up north for extra, needy contact.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around, Dancing Machine.” He stuffs the note in your hand with quick flourish. “I’d love to give you more dancing lessons.”

You feel your heart drum painfully as you curl the paper in your hand. You’d only just met Baekhyun and yet you felt so attached to him.

“Don’t forget me, princess,” he hugs you close to him, pressing a soft, chaste kiss upon the crown of your head. “Good night.”

And then he’s striding across the club floor, jacket nestled under his arm as you gaze after him, pleading, hoping that he won’t leave.

Midway across the dance floor, he turns around, a small smirk on his face. Without a word, he tosses you his jacket, flinging the smell of harsh-smelling cologne through the air, and you catch it, feeling the smooth leather between your hands.

He smiles, one last cheerful smile that’d brought you to happiness in the first place, and then he briefly disappears behind the mob of people you can’t even label as “dancers” anymore. He’s gone past the door with a swift movement of the hinge and off he vanishes into the night.

Mei ambles over to you, looking curious. “Why’re you holding your arm like that?”

You look down at your arm tightly clutching Baekhyun’s jacket. “Like what?”

“Like that. Like you’re holding something.” Mei points to your arm.

“Cause I am holding something,” you intone in a puzzled whisper. “Baekhyun’s jacket.”

“Who?” Mei furrows her eyebrows.

“Baekhyun.” Your heart seems to pulse wretchedly at the sound of his name. “The guy who was just in here.”

Mei’s head cocks in confusion.

“The guy I just danced with,” you say desperately as Mei starts to look a bit alarmed. “You saw him. He said happy birthday to me!”

“I-I didn’t see anybody. I saw you dancing out on the floor though. Great moves.”

“Thanks.” You stare down at Baekhyun’s jacket still tucked underneath your arm. You couldn’t have just imagined him, you couldn’t have.

“Look!” you suddenly cry out, thrusting the note Baekhyun had given you towards Mei’s face. “He gave me this! His number!”

You unfurl the paper, Mei curiously leaning over your shoulder, and you note it also leaks with his strong, harsh scent. What greets you is not what you expect. Written in jumbled black letters is:

I’ll always be your muse. I’ll always be your flame.

Happy 19th birthday, princess.

XOXO,

Baekhyun

Originally posted by yixingofficial