Sir Will had always prided himself on composure. On being the man who never let emotions slip past the cracks. But the way Noah had been haunting his thoughts since that night? It rattled him.
So the following week,Sir Will buried himself in work, teaching his classes but keeping his visits to the studio clipped and efficient. He lingered less in the lobby, dodged small talk, and when his part-timer was there at the desk, he let their interactions shrink to polite nods.
And Noah noticed.
He told himself he wouldn't. He told himself he didn't care. But every shift felt heavier without that dry sarcasm floating in from the studio door.
By Saturday, the ache of absence was unbearable. Noah sat fiddling with the edge of his phone, pretending not to watch for him—until Sir Will finally strode in, all dark slacks and that aura of casual authority that made the students brighten as soon as he entered.
The K-pop class ran as usual. Sir Will sharp, precise, commanding. Noah, restless behind the desk.
When the music cut, he thought—finally. Maybe I can catch him for a second.
But before he could even stand, one of the girls from class flitted up to Sir Will, her laughter a little too bright, her words honey-slick. Just another tease. Noah rolls his eyes without realising.
"You're amazing, Sir Will—could we maybe record this together? Just once?"
Sir Will's polite smile stayed fixed in place. "Of course."
And Noah's chest twisted. He didn't know why, didn't want to know why—but watching them dance, watching her lean closer, watching Sir Will's easy charm—it burned. He doesn't understand but he misses the teases that burnt and left a mark in him.
When the girl finally sashayed out with her phone proud of herself, Sir Will exhaled. The room stilled. Just the two of them now.
"You made such a difficult choreo like that?" Noah blurted, grasping at any thread of conversation. His voice was too quick, too eager.
Sir Will quirked a brow, playful. "Mmhm. You like it?"
"Yeah. It's fun. I love that song. You added even more steps and changes it's interesting though."
"You know it, then?"
"Kinda. Not fully."
The corner of Will's mouth curled. "Well, come on then. I'll teach you."
The invitation landed heavier than it should. Noah's chest thumped as he followed him onto the floor. For the next half hour, they moved in sync, seriousness and then smiles and laughter bubbling whenever Noah messed up, shoulders brushing as Sir Will corrected his posture, always purposely leaning a bit too close to Noah, heat radiating in the gaps between them or what was really left.
By their last recording, both were panting, sprawled flat on the floor side by side. probalby th 100th time Sir will danced to that song today but this time he felt every moment of it even more, like his body purposely wanted to memorise the feeling of moving along with the boy filling his whole gaze and attention. The ceiling lights seemed almost too bright for how intimate the air felt, as they breathlessly stare. Not ready to face each other's expressions.
Noah sat up first, scrolling through their takes. His laugh was unguarded, boyish. "God, look at you—such a perfectionist."
Sir Will, still on the ground, just grinned up at him. Then, with a lazy lift of his arm, he signaled. "Help me up."
Noah grabbed his hand—too strongly. Sir Will's weight pulled forward, and suddenly, his face was inches from Noah's. Their breaths collided.
Sir Will's eyes flicked down. Eyes, lips, eyes. He smirked. "Ah… trying to pay me back, are you?"
The line was teasing. Careless. But it sent Noah reeling. His pulse crashed in his ears, his mind slipping traitorously into a fantasy—leaning in, closing the gap, tasting the smirk off Sir Will's lips—
But it wasn't real. Just his imagination running wild. [Just do it, dumb bicch!! T-T]
In reality, he froze. Blank. Until Sir Will waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to Noah."
Noah snapped back, cheeks scorching crimson. Oh god. Did I just imagine kissing him? [Yes.]
He coughed, a fake casual noise, scooting back like nothing happened. "Bro, when you say things like that, it almost sounds like you've got a crush on me."
Silence.
Noah's eyes darted sideways. Sir Will wasn't scoffing. He wasn't firing back. His ears—his ears—were red. Warning!! Beep beep beep! Composure down once again! Maybe if I stay still long enough, he'll lose sight of me.
"Wait…" Noah blurted. His voice cracked with disbelief, excitement, fear. "Do you.. do you actually—.. like me?"
Sir Will's response was a scratch at the back of his neck, a quiet scoff, and then—deflection. "Anyway. Come on. I'll drive you home." [My eyes are closed and I'm judging]
The car ride was thick with unspoken words. Noah kept sneaking glances, chewing on his lip. Sir Will's profile was unreadable, all smooth lines and composure, except for the faint tension in his jaw.
When they finally pulled up to Noah's apartment, Noah just sat there, dazed. Unmoving. Lost in thoughts of earlier and the swirling excitement and thrill felt, in the moment he realised Sir Will liked him. He had a small guess he brushed over but it was washed over by denials knowing that he has been straight all his life. What made this different? Not a feeling he would have with any normal guy friend.
"Damn," Sir Will muttered, leaning over to unbuckle his seat belt. His voice was dry, but softer than usual. "You really hate being apart from me, huh?"
His hand brushed Noah's, and instinctively, Noah pressed his palm down, pressing Sir Will's hand in between his palm and his thigh, stopping him. Heart in his throat.
"Shall we… d-d—" His voice cracked. Dating seemed to fast. He swallowed hard, forced the words out as steady as he can. "Shall we go on a date? Tomorrow. Or something."
Sir Will's eyes widened. He was stunned in his seat both the feeling of actually getting this handsome fella actually asking him out first and his hand pressed against Noah's thigh was burning in his mind, as calm as he could, forcing better composure, he let out a low breath, something softer flickered in them, covering it with a sarcastic drawl, Sir Will smugly agrees: "Sure. I'll pick you up at three. Don't make me wait."
But as his thumb grazed over Noah's knuckles, he was also m
Noah bolted inside afterward, collapsing onto his bed. Replay after replay of the day unspooled in his head, each memory making his face burn hotter. A date. With him. With Sir Will.
Sleep refused to come. By morning, both men were tearing apart their closets, pretending not to care, dressing like it was just another casual day.
By 2:50, Noah was already pacing. By 2:55, he was glaring at his phone, waiting.
Then it buzzed.
"Come down. I'm here."
Sir Will's voice, smooth and curt, before the line clicked off.
Noah slid into the car, nerves buzzing. He'd barely sat down before Sir Will leaned across him, fingers brushing against his chest as he pulled the seatbelt over. His voice was low, teasing. "Did you not sleep well last night?"
Noah's breath hitched. The man's cologne mixed with the cigarette he smoked just before he got in, his warmth, the smirk curling on his lips. Noah's legs were trembling at this point.
And for the first time, Noah admitted it to himself. He's fucking hot, shit!!
Sir Will pulled back, started the car. "So. Where do you want to go?"
Noah blinked. Panic—he'd forgotten to plan. "Uh—I… I don't know. Do you?"
Sir Will's smirk widened, as if he'd expected that. "Lucky for you, I do. Hold on."
When they pulled into the drive-in cinema, the marquee lights flickered against their faces. An old Italian classic on the screen, subtitles glowing.
Noah's lips parted in awe. Sir Will just leaned back in his seat, smug satisfaction in his eyes.
"Figured you'd like this."
Noah's chest tightened again. He couldn't look away.
And as the film began to roll, he thought, God help me…