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Jung Hoseok strives for perfection.

This is a simple fact of life. The sky is blue, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and Jung Hoseok will always strive for perfection. 

And as the dance leader, he'll hold the others to this same standard. 

They've been in the studio since sun-up, practicing old choreography as well as new. Hoseok checks his watch - ten p.m. - and vaguely wonders if they've practiced enough before catching sight of Namjoon and Seokjin tripping their way through a part of DNA. 

Evidently not. 

"Alright, places!" he calls, and Namjoon's eyes flash with something - irritation, maybe? "We need to run DNA again."

They have a concert in two days, and this - this is not ready.

"Hobi-ah," Namjoon frowns, folding his arms over his chest, "I think we've had enough."


No, no, this isn't how the script goes. Cause and effect - Hoseok calls for once more, the others fall into step. 

This isn't how it's supposed to be.

"No," Hoseok frowns, and Namjoon quirks a brow. "No, Joon-ah, we're not done."

"We're done," Namjoon states, gesturing to Seokjin and Yoongi. "Hyung looks dead on his feet, Hope-ah. We've been here since six this morning."

Then why isn't it good enough yet?

"It's not enough," Hoseok simply states, waving a hand to dismiss Namjoon's concerns. He plugs his phone back into the speaker, pulling up the track before a hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Hobi-ah," Namjoon frowns, voice carefully measured. "We can't keep going."

"We can," Hoseok growls, voice pitching down an octave in his irritation. "We can and we will."

Namjoon shakes his head in response. "Hobi-ah, I'm calling off this practice."

"What?" Hoseok shouts, voice infused with rage. "No! We have to keep going!"

"We can't," Namjoon insists, and Hoseok shakes his head. "Hobi-ah, we've had enough for one day. Please."

"We have?" Hoseok challenges, and Namjoon's eyes widen. "No, Namjoon. We haven't had enough. You have."

"That's not it-"

"Why do you think we're even still here?" Hoseok snaps, and Namjoon slowly shakes his head. "We're still here because you can't get this one part down! We're here because you're not good enough!"

He knows he's gone too far as soon as the words leave his lips, and Namjoon seems to know it too. "Is that how you see it?" he asks, voice still infuriatingly calm, though it trembles slightly on the last word. "If it is, then just keep me behind. Don't make the others stay."


"I think we've had enough for today," Seokjin cuts in, placing a hand on Hoseok's shoulder. "All of us."

"...fine," Hoseok mumbles, ducking his head. "Fine. Fine! Just go home. See if I care."

He storms out of the studio, throwing one final insult over his shoulder. "Just don't come crying to me when you can't get the routine!"

Namjoon sighs, placing his water bottle on the ground and rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. God, he's tired. 

DNA plays in the background, the chorus repeated so many times that it hardly sounds like a song. He reaches over, pauses the song, and rakes a hand through his sweat-coated hair.

What time is it, even?

He checks the watch on his wrist, grimacing upon seeing the hand is well past the two. He needs sleep. 

He rests a hand on the wall, the cold tile refreshing. God, he just... can't get this one passage down. 

He's so damn tired.

He moves back into place, and the chorus starts to play. Step, step, turn, jump-

He misses the landing. 

His foot slides out from under him and he hits the ground, pain shooting up his ankle. 

"Fuck," he gasps, pushing himself up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

Fire shoots up his leg as he struggles to his feet, using the wall for support. "F-Fuck..."

It's definitely sprained. Hopefully not broken.

Hopefully he can still dance.

Hopefully Hoseok won't be any madder than he already is.

When Namjoon wakes up the next day, his ankle is swollen something horrific. 

He's the first one awake, and he gingerly presses his ankle, only to bite back a scream as fire races up his limb. God, this isn't good.

He limps to the bathroom, ankle screaming in pain with each step. "Fuck," he hisses, pulling a bottle of painkillers from the cabinet. "Fucking fuck."

He limps to the kitchen, retrieving an ice pack and pressing it to his ankle. The cool seeps into his limb and provides some modicum of comfort, and he limps back to his room, pulling a sock over his swollen ankle. 


They have one more day of dance practice before the concert, and he has to keep trying. He has to keep trying.

For his band.

Namjoon isn't quite right today. 

Hoseok can tell it. He's just... not quite right. Less sharp, more lethargic. 

And for some reason, he presses a water bottle to his ankle during the breaks. 

Still, Hoseok can't stop the irritation from flaring up. Namjoon just... isn't sharp enough. Not good enough, not if they're performing tomorrow. 

He can tell that the others are irritated as well, especially Jimin. Namjoon looks apologetic and somewhat exhausted, though Hoseok can't understand why.

They're running the chorus again when they start the jumps, and Hoseok immediately knows something's wrong when they're leading into the jumps. 

And he's right.

Namjoon's leg gives out and he hits the ground, a scream slipping through his clenched teeth. Hoseok races to his side, fear mounting as Namjoon struggles to make it to his feet. "Joon?"

"I'm okay," Namjoon grits out, and Hoseok shakes his head. "Really-"

Hoseok pulls up the hem of Namjoon's sweatpants, horror mounting upon seeing the bruises painting his leg. "Joon, what happened?"

"It's fine," Namjoon hisses, and Hoseok shakes his head yet again. "I can dance-"

"What happened?" Hoseok snaps, and Namjoon's eyes widen.

"I-I slipped last night," Namjoon stammers, "and I missed a landing. I'm okay-"

"No, you're not," Hoseok states. "Jin-hyung, call Manager-nim."

"I'm sorry," Namjoon mumbles, hiding his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's okay," Hoseok soothes, taking the water bottle Jimin offers. "You're okay, Joon-ah."

He runs a hand through Namjoon's hair, pressing the other 94'-liner to his chest. "You're alright."

Namjoon sniffs, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Hobi..."

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Hoseok admits. "You're not a bad dancer, Joon-ah."

"It's alright," Namjoon mumbles. "It's okay. I know I am."

"You're not!" Hoseok insists, and Namjoon shakes his head. "I mean it, Joonie. You're not a bad dancer."

"The car is here," Yoongi reports, and Hoseok slings his arms under Namjoon's legs, hoisting the younger into his arms. "Rest up, Joonie-ah."

Namjoon's not allowed to dance at the next concert. 

He hates the chair with a bitter passion, but to be fair, all of them do. Not that it's inherently the chair's fault, but still. 

Still, he's confined to the chair for three weeks, and Hoseok can tell he hates it.

"I meant it," Hoseok tells him one night, sadness shining in his chocolate eyes. "You are a good dancer. I promise."

Namjoon smiles, small but genuine. "Thank you, Hobi-ah."

The day after Namjoon is cleared to return to dancing, Hoseok plans something special. 

He asks Yoongi to make him a playlist, and gets the maknae line to distract Namjoon while he and Seokjin set up the room.

Taehyung has his hands over Namjoon's eyes as they open the door, and as he removes them, Namjoon gasps. 

Hoseok has a hand extended, clad in a suit and shiny black shoes. Waltz music plays in the background, and Hoseok gently takes Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the center of the studio. "Do you know how to waltz, Joon-ah?"

"Um," Namjoon simply replies, and Hoseok takes that as denial. 

"Follow me," the elder smiles. "Left foot forwards, see? Right foot across, left foot over. Right foot back, left foot across, right foot over. Can you try that?"

Namjoon follows, and Hoseok beams. "That's great, Joon-ah!"

They waltz for a few minutes, and Hoseok's shocked when Namjoon twirls him around, lips curling into a grin. Hoseok adds a few extra twirls for a flourish, and Namjoon laughs, pressing his head into Hoseok's shoulder. 

"This is nice, Hobi-ah," Namjoon mumbles, and Hoseok beams. 

This next move is going to be tough, but if it works, it'll be great. Hoseok releases Namjoon's hand and does a twirl, grinning as he sees Namjoon staring at him, wide-eyed. "C'mon!" Hoseok beams, and Namjoon follows, doing a triple-turn before picking up Hoseok's other hand. 

"Thank you," Namjoon murmurs, and Hoseok beams.