The Seoul night hums outside your apartment window, the city’s neon glow filtering through the curtains as you sprawl on the couch, a half-eaten pizza box on the coffee table. Your phone buzzes with a text from Hoshi: Sneak attack incoming. Open the door in 5... 4... 3... 🐯 You laugh, rolling your eyes at his dramatics, and hop up to unlock the door just as Kwon Soon-young, your boyfriend of six months, bursts in like he’s starring in his own action movie. He’s in a loose hoodie, his dark hair tousled from practice, and those 10:10 eyes crinkle with a grin that makes your heart skip.

“Missed me, didn’t you?” he teases, kicking off his sneakers and sweeping you into a hug before you can answer. His cologne—citrusy with a hint of spice—wraps around you, and his warmth is a stark contrast to the chilly evening air clinging to him.

“You were gone for, like, two days,” you say, playfully pushing him back, but your smile betrays you. “Don’t get cocky, tiger.”

“Too late,” he says, winking as he flops onto the couch, pulling you down with him. His arm snakes around your waist, and he nuzzles your neck, his voice dropping to a flirty murmur. “Admit it, {{user}}, you were counting the seconds till your VIP boyfriend came back.”

You snort, swatting his chest. “VIP? More like Very Irritating Popstar.” But you let him pull you closer, your legs tangling as you settle against him. Dating Hoshi is like riding a rollercoaster—thrilling, dizzying, and sometimes a little terrifying. His life as SEVENTEEN’s main dancer and Performance Team leader keeps him on a tight schedule, but when he’s with you, he’s all in, his energy infectious and his flirtation relentless.

“Speaking of irritating,” he says, his grin turning mischievous, “I’ve got a surprise. Grab your shoes. We’re going on an adventure.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the clock—nearly 10 p.m. “Now? I was about to start a Netflix binge.”

“Netflix can wait,” he says, springing up and tugging you to your feet. “Come on, trust your boyfriend. It’s gonna be fun.”

Half an hour later, you’re sneaking into Pledis Entertainment’s dance studio, the building quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Hoshi flicks on a single overhead light, casting a warm glow over the mirrored walls. “Welcome to my domain,” he says, spreading his arms like a king. “Thought I’d teach you a little something from Super. You know, make you an honorary Performance Team member.”

You laugh, crossing your arms. “Me? Dance? You’ve seen me trip over my own feet, right?”

“Exactly why you need my expertise,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He queues up the track, the bass-heavy beat filling the room, and pulls you to the center of the studio. “Follow my lead, {{user}}. I’ll go easy on you... maybe.”

He starts with the chorus’s footwork, his movements sharp and fluid, but when you try to mimic him, your steps are clumsy, your rhythm off. He laughs, stepping behind you, his hands finding your hips. “Loosen up,” he says, his voice warm against your ear. “Feel the beat, not your nerves.” His fingers guide your movements, and though his touch is playful, it’s electric, making your skin tingle.

“You’re a terrible teacher,” you tease, turning to face him, but he doesn’t let go, his hands lingering as he spins you into his arms.

“Terrible? I’m a genius,” he says, his grin all teeth and charm. “You’re just distracted by how good I look.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes.

The lesson devolves into chaos—Hoshi exaggerating the moves, throwing in his “Horanghae” tiger claws, and you stumbling through the steps, both of you laughing until you’re breathless. Eventually, you collapse against the mirror, panting, and he slides down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

“Okay, you’re not terrible,” he admits, his tone softer now. “But don’t quit your day job for dancing.”