Hello! I'm back with a new story! First of all I want to apologize for taking so long to post new stuff, with Thanksgiving and all the things that happened in the last couple of weeks, I wasn't very inspired to write or edit my work, so I decided to take a few days for myself to regroup and come back stronger. It took me a bit longer than I expected but here I am, back at it again and ready to survive this long hiatus one fic at a time, so let's start, shall we?

This story is very short and different from my usual style, but I still hope you like it. It was written for my dear friend Chris (likemybonfireheart on tumblr and twitter) as a belated birthday gift, so Chris...I really hope you like this little something. You're one of the sweetest, most supportive people I've had the pleasure of meeting and I couldn't be more grateful to be able to call you my friend. Thanks for always being there! Happy belated birthday!

Entrée

Alec was practicing. In the last three weeks, he had been staying every day after school to practice, trying—without much luck—to make his body lose some of the stiffness that years and years of training had given him. He was a dancer, one of the twenty students that the New York Dance Institute accepted every year. It was an absolute honor to have the chance to study there and although he was still over the moon for the opportunity he now had to make all his dreams come true, not everything had been as perfect as he had imagined it would be.

The Institute was way beyond his expectations, the teachers, the facilities, everything was top level, but unfortunately, he hadn't been doing so well in all his classes. He was a classically-trained ballet dancer since the age of four, so adjusting to all these new lessons and styles that took him out of his comfort zone had been a real challenge for him. Lyrical, Jazz, Contemporary, all of those classes required him to let go of his body, to relax his muscles—something that Alec had recently discovered he couldn't do so easily.

His teachers wanted him to 'get loose,' to 'break his lines,' but no matter how hard he tried, his body refused to cooperate. The more he tried to nail the stupid choreography and make his movements more fluid, the more frustrated he felt with himself. Forcing his body to break the lines that years of practice and private tutors had perfected in him was perhaps the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. For two decades, he had trained his body to be a servant of his mind, to be precise, and now, well, now he had to learn how to not do that.

"Goddammit!" He cursed, wiping the sweat from his forehead and throwing the towel across the room in frustration. He knew the choreography, he knew the steps, he just had a legato problem—his movements weren't continuous and fluent.

"You think too much." A voice said, startling him.

Alec turned around and saw that there was a tall, well-built, and very attractive man standing on the threshold of the small dance studio Alec had been using to practice. He was wearing pants and a sweatshirt with the Institute logo on them, so he figured he was another student. He wasn't any of Alec's classmates, he knew them all well by now, so this handsome stranger was definitely older than him. A year or two perhaps—he still looked young.

"I'm Magnus," the handsome stranger continued, "second year." He added casually.

"I'm-I'm Alec...first year."

"Classical ballet dancer?" Magnus asked, raising a brow in curiosity.

"Is it too obvious?"

"A bit." Magnus smiled. "And judging from the song selection, I'm guessing you were practicing for Contemporary? Mrs. Lefevre always uses that song for first years."

"Yeah, my personal hell." Alec confessed.

Magnus just smiled. "You're good, you just have to stop thinking too much about what you're doing and let your body feel the music."

"Easier said than done."

"Not so much once you get the hang of it. Besides, you're a classical ballet dancer, I know dedication is in your blood."

Alec chuckled. "How so?"

"Well, I've been studying here for a year and I can assure you that classical ballet students are the most dedicated dancers in the entire Institute and with good reason. I mean, getting into one of the best classical ballet companies in the world isn't an easy task, it requires practice, determination, sacrifice, and a lot of dedication. Have you set your eyes on any particular company?"

"The Paris Opera Ballet."

"Ambitious, but an excellent choice."

"Yeah, but I'm never going to get a chance to audition if I fail Contemporary—and Jazz and Lyrical for that matter."

Magnus chuckled. "You're not going to fail them, you were doing great just now, you just have to find a way to make your movements more fluid."

Alec sighed defeated. He had been trying to do that since the first day he had gotten there, but he hadn't been very successful with the task.

"Come…" Magnus said, smiling at him, and taking off his sweatshirt, "I can help you practice a bit. Give me an arabesque."

Alec hesitated, was this guy being serious? He wasn't expecting him to actually accept his help, was he?

"Come on, darling, don't be shy."

"Oh, you're serious." Alec said surprised. Apparently, Magnus did expect him to accept his help.

"Of course I'm serious, come on, give me your best arabesque."

Alec hesitated again, but did it, taking a deep breath before commanding his body to do the very familiar position.

"Perfect line," Magnus said, smiling approvingly, "perhaps too perfect for Contemporary." He added, getting closer to Alec and carefully placing his hands on Alec's back.

Alec's breath hitched, this close proximity to Magnus was too much for him. He was used to teachers and other dancers sometimes giving him pointers and helping him with some of his movements and steps, but those teachers and dancers didn't look like this guy nor did they have the effect that he clearly had on him. Having Magnus so close to his body was a completely different experience.

"Now, relax your leg a bit and move your hands and arms like this," Magnus instructed him, "you need to give more softness to your arms so that they go with the rest of your body, see?" He added, pointing to the image of both of them in the mirror.

Alec looked up and, well, Magnus was right, he looked different, less rigid and more...relaxed. But that wasn't what made him stop breathing for the second time in less than a minute, no, it was the sudden connection he felt with Magnus, the mutual understanding that their bodies seemed to have and that the mirror was reflecting.

"Try it again, but now on your own." Magnus said.

Alec tried again. This time his arabesque was different, not perfect, but definitely more fluid.

"See? You nailed it. Now give me a developpe and a plie."

Alec took a deep breath again and did what he was told to with Magnus still standing closely behind him.

"Perfect, but too square," Magnus said, "you worry too much about the technique. I mean, it's natural and your technique is impeccable, but you have to forget about it for a second. Free your mind, feel the music, let it be the one to guide your movements. Your lines are perfect and beautiful, I've never seen a dancer like you, so elegant, so precise, but if you want to do better in Contemporary, you'll have to-"

"-break my lines." Alec completed the sentence. That had been what his teachers had been telling him over and over again.

"No!" Magnus immediately exclaimed, "just bend them. If you break your lines then you'll lose your style, just bend them. You're too talented, you don't need to change. People here will try to convince you otherwise, but don't listen to them. Your style is yours and you have to defend it, own it, never let them take that away from you, just find a middle point and-" he was saying when his phone rang.

"I'm sorry," Magnus said, "I have to take this call."

"Don't worry." Alec smiled, grateful for the chance to compose himself a bit. His head was spinning, he had never felt so uneasy and yet so comfortable in front of anyone before and he really didn't know what to do with himself.

"My dear little cabbage! How have you been?" Magnus answered his call. He seemed very happy to talk to whoever this dear little cabbage was. "Yes, I'm sorry...I know I promised to be home to Skype with you, but I lost track of time."

Although Magnus didn't seem to care that Alec was listening to part of his conversation, Alec felt really uncomfortable, so he walked to pick up the towel he had previously thrown as a way to give Magnus—who was chatting quite animatedly with his friend—some sort of privacy.

"What!? You're kidding, right? Are you really downstairs? When did you arrive!?" Magnus asked enthusiastically. "Why didn't you tell me anything!? Who knew? Santiago? The bastard didn't say anything! I'm going to kill him! No, but seriously, why didn't you tell me you were coming!? Well, it doesn't matter anymore, you're here and that's all I care about. I'll see you in just a second, okay? Yeah, yeah…bye."

Alec looked at him.

"I have to go," Magnus said, "a friend is in town and it's Friday so…" he added as if that explained everything.

"Of course."

"You have plans?"

"Yeah, later…" Alec said although it wasn't true. His plan was to go home and finish the book he had been reading, but he didn't want to look like a complete loser in front of Magnus, so he figured pretending he had a more interesting life was better to make a good impression. He was a dancer, it wasn't unusual for him to love dancing above anything else, but he was also young, living in New York City. He should be using his Friday nights to party and not to be a hermit and lock himself in his apartment doing nothing, but he had never been like the rest. He had always been an introvert, finding the inner world of the mind far more interesting than the outer world.

"Well, then, I guess I'll see you around, Alec." Magnus winked at him.

Alec just nodded because this man really had a strange effect on him. The way he talked and moved was very distracting. He felt dizzy and high just by his presence.

"Have a great night then and stay safe!" Magnus added.

"Hmmm, yeah...you too."

"Bye, and remember...bend your lines, don't-"

"-break them, got it." Alec smiled.

Magnus smiled back and winked again before walking out of the dance studio.

Alec just stood there watching him go and unable to process the encounter. Meeting Magnus had been all kinds of surprising, unexpected and intense, he felt uneasy, unstable, as if the ground had shifted beneath him. And it probably had, because amidst the whirlwind of emotions that he felt inside, there was one thing he knew for sure...after tonight, he would never, ever, see dancing the same way again.