Chapter Text
Triple Lutz-Double Toe.
Triple Flip.
Triple Loop-Euler-Triple Salchow.
Double Axel.
“He doesn’t even have a proper sequential warm-up,” Jongin fumes to Jongdae by the sideboards, digging the heel of his blades into the ice and leaning back on the plastic barrier with his elbows while watching The Asshole’s various rotated jumps. “He’s so sloppy. How is anyone even supposed to predict where he’s going?”
“Would you like to get some skating done?” Jongdae inquires.
“How am I supposed to skate when his patterns are all over the place, and his landings are that wild?” Jongin’s glare could bore a hole into the surface of the ice.
“Go jump on the other side, Nini.” Jongdae spares him a pat on the back before he’s speeding off. Jongin picks his gloves up from beside his water bottle, and makes sure to look both ways for rogue Kyungsoos and Minseoks before skating away from the barrier. He picks up speed starting from the halfway point of the rink--no way he’s crossing into enemy territory--and launches himself into a Double Axel to begin his organized, professional, technically correct warm-up, rotating twice around his own axis in the air before landing on his right foot beautifully. However, the next time he circles further up the rink for speed, he also sees The Asshole, skating straight towards him from the opposite direction. Jongin resolutely refuses to change course. His rival fixes him with a cold glare, which he is neither impressed nor intimidated by, even though there’s only three feet of distance left in between them--
“Sehun!” Coach Junmyeon’s voice cuts through the tension between them, and Jongin whizzes past The Asshole, who veers away with a simple turn of his blade at the last moment.
“Yes, coach?”
“Yes, coach?” Jongin mimics to himself, still fuming as he goes into his next jump. As if he hadn’t been all set to run Jongin over mere seconds ago.
“He’s so fucking stuck up,” Jongin hisses to Kyungsoo the next time he goes back to the sideboards for water. The ice dancer simply sighs and holds his hand out to Yutao, his partner, so that they can go back to practicing.
“Just ignore him.”
“I’m trying, but he purposely gets into my way. Would it have killed him to have just moved a little to the left? I’m just trying to jump--”
“Why don’t you move?” a cold voice from behind Jongin cuts in, and Jongin grits his teeth. Kyungsoo skates away with his partner so as to not get involved with the shitshow. Jongin turns around to face The Enemy.
“I was going into a jump, and you saw my pattern,” Jongin snaps. “You could have taken any other way.”
“I’m just trying to jump, too.” Sehun’s expression is almost indifferent as he gazes at Jongin’s tightly crossed arms and set jawline. A glint of annoyance in those sharp eyes under perfectly filled in, straight eyebrows is the only sign that The Asshole is more pissed than he lets on. But Jongin does not focus on the cocoa-colored eyes which darken as he sizes Jongin up. The only thing that’s going through Jongin’s mind is the absolute and utter contempt that he has for the skater in front of him.
“It. Was. My. Right. Of. Way.” Jongin narrows his eyes. “You saw me, you know my pattern.”
“How would I know what pattern you take into your tiny jumps?” Sehun glances at Jongin with disdain.
“Seriously?” Jongin’s mouth almost falls open with incredulity. “You’re going to start insulting my jumps?”
“If you’re going to get in my way, I wish it would be for something worth practicing.” Sehun shoves his gloved hands into his pockets, pops one hip out carelessly --narcissistic ass, Jongin thinks -- and heaves the smallest of sighs. “You can’t possibly expect me to move for your sad excuse of a Double Axel.”
“I--” Jongin’s so mad he can’t even speak properly. “My Double Axel is sad? What about your sloppy excuse of a warm-up? Who goes from a Triple Lutz combination to a Triple Flip--”
“I do.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jongin snaps, not being able to formulate a proper comeback. He’s seeing red.
“You asked,” comes Sehun’s even reply, and if Jongin did not have a line of deadly, jagged picks on the front of his sharpened steel blade, he would have kicked Sehun’s shin.
“I am your senior ,” Jongin spits.
“By what? Maturity?” Sehun snorts and turns his back on Jongin.
“By age!”
“Last I checked, we are the same age.” And with that, Sehun skates away, leaving Jongin to slam his fist against the boards so hard that the impact echoes around the rink, and multiple skaters look up alarmed.
“Jongin, are you okay?” Coach Yixing calls from across the rink, where he’s teaching Minseok and Luxi, his ice dance partner.
“Yes, coach!” Jongin assures him as diplomatically as possible. Somewhere on his half of the ice rink, Sehun rolls his eyes as he lands a Triple Lutz.
Yes, coach, he mimics scathingly. Petty bitch.
“--need to smile more,” Minseok is saying to Kyungsoo when Jongin opens the door to the locker room. “You’re an ice dancer, you’re supposed to be expressive. You’re in love with Yutao.”
“Mmm.” Kyungsoo hums noncommittally, tugging at the laces of his skates. “I’ll smile when I need to.”
“You should practice expressions as well,” the other ice dancer urges. “People will mistake you for a Singles skater if you don’t crack a smile.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Baekhyun cuts into the conversation.
“Bah.” Minseok waves his hand dismissively. “You all don’t ever smile during your routines. All I see is a bunch of flying jumps and spins. Where is the artistry? The elegance, the grace, the finesse?” Minseok gets up from his seat and waltzes over to Kyungsoo, who watches the other ice dancer with a straight face. “Soo, back me up here.”
“He’s not backing you up because he knows ice dance is lame.” Baekhyun’s mischievous smile plays at the corner of his lips. “You all don’t even jump. What’s so fun about twirling in circles all the time?”
“Those circles are intricate steps that must be precisely--”
“In other words, they complicate things for themselves so they can pretend they’re doing something important.” Jongin joins in the teasing, and Baekhyun points at Jongin triumphantly.
“Bro, you already know.”
“Soo!” Minseok complains, and Kyungsoo just sighs.
“I do wish Foxtrot had a lot less steps.”
“Switch to Singles figure skating, Soo,” Jongin coos. “It’s so much more fun and exciting.”
“And be associated with you two plus Jongdae and Sehun? No thanks, I’ll take Foxtrot.” Kyungsoo slides his feet neatly into his sneakers while Baekhyun pretends to cry in the corner.
“Where is Jongdae anyway?” Minseok asks.
“Flirting with the hot new Zamboni driver,” Baekhyun supplies.
“There’s a hot new Zamboni driver?” Jongin’s jaw drops. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“You got off practice later than me, I assumed you would have seen him.”
“I wanna go see, I wanna go see if he’s actually hot.” Jongin’s fingers fly over the laces of his skates in double time, spurred on by the promise of eye candy. “Hurry, Baek, let’s gooooo.”
“I’m pretty sure Jongdae has already imprinted on him, but I guess you can still try.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not excited about the hot new Zamboni driver. Do you think he’ll let me ride on his Zamboni?”
“Jongin, no.” Kyungsoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please.”
“Sorry, I don’t listen to ice dancers.” Jongin bounces up and down on the balls of his feet while he waits for Baekhyun to finish untying his skates. “You’re taking too long, I’m leaving.”
“Wait, did I mention he’s--” Jongin pulls on the handle of the locker room door just as someone pushes on it from the outside. Jongin stumbles back; the person stumbles forward and bumps into him.
“I’m s--” Jongin cuts off his apology as soon as he looks up.
“No, no. Continue. You owe me one after all.”
“For what?” Jongin snaps. “God, can you look where you’re going?”
“Just Sehun is fine.”
“Here we go,” Kyungsoo mutters under his breath so that only Minseok hears him. The older dancer drops his head into his hands wearily.
“--the most airheaded, arrogant son of a bitch. YOU bumped into ME, and this isn’t even the first time today!” Jongin fumes while Sehun stares him down coldly. The latter is still in skates, which makes him a good four inches taller than Jongin at the moment, even if they’re technically the same height. Jongin absolutely hates it.
“Then don’t stand in front of the door.”
“I was trying to leave!”
“Well then, don’t let me stop you.” Sehun raises an eyebrow. “Or are you going to stand there and call me names for the rest of the day?”
“Fuck off.” Jongin’s good mood is effectively killed.
“Ahem. Nini,” Baekhyun begins tentatively. “Did I… mention the Zamboni driver is a hockey player?”
“And you called him HOT?!” Minseok screeches, turning on Baekhyun. “Baekhyun Byun! You call yourself a figure skater?”
“He is kind of--”
“I should have known when you said Jongdae imprinted on him.” Jongin whirls around with one foot out the door. “He has the worst taste in men.”
“He’s objectively attractive,” Baekhyun says weakly, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. Minseok stares at him incredulously. Sehun sits down on the bench furthest from Jongin’s things and begins scrolling through his phone, not even bothering to take his skates off first. “Sehun, did you see him?”
“Who?” Sehun looks up while Jongin resolutely ignores him, sitting down with a huff beside Kyungsoo.
“The Zamboni driver.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sehun stops scrolling through his feed to back Baekhyun up. “He’s a nine out of ten at worst.”
“You’re being so stingy with points, he’s gotta be a solid fifteen on a bad day--”
“Baekhyun Byun, you absolute simp, he’s a hockey player.” Minseok rolls his eyes. “Please afford yourself some dignity like Sehunnie is doing.”
“What dignity?” Jongin mutters. Kyungsoo pinches the back of Jongin’s arm. “Ow! I bet he’s not even that hot.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one vibrating with excitement when Baekhyun said there was a hot Zamboni driver?” Kyungsoo points out wearily.
“That was before Baek said he was a hockey player.” Jongin defends.
“Ooookay, Jongin. I will not bring up the hockey player from--”
“Stop, that was in high school, he doesn’t count.” Jongin stands up and reaches for his skating bag. He slings it over his shoulder and stalks over to the locker room door. “I’m leaving. Bye.”
“Bye, baby!” Baekhyun blows him a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“Yeah.” Jongin waves to everybody in the locker room except The Enemy, then turns away. The cold of the ice rink seeps through his sweatshirt in the time it takes for him to walk along half the perimeter of the rink to get to the door that leads into the main lobby and out of the building. On his way out, a beaming Jongdae skips past him, holding his hand out for a farewell high-five.
“Look.” Jongdae clasps Jongin’s hand and points out at the rink, where a man sits in the driver’s seat of the Zamboni, slowly turning the steering wheel with one hand to curve around the perimeter and lay down a sheet of water to make new ice. “Just. Look at him.” Jongin rolls his eyes.
“I have it on good authority that he’s a hockey player.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Jongdae waves it off impatiently. “Just look at him.” So Jongin does, keeping in mind that The Asshole called him a nine out of ten, and that this man considers knocking a puck around with a stick and stinking up the locker room with 23 other brusque, slow-witted men to be fun. The odds are not in this guy’s favor. Jongin passes a disinterested look over the driver as the Zamboni slowly trundles towards the two figure skaters watching from the opposite side of the Plexiglass barrier, then does a double take.
“Oh my--” Jongin whips around to grab Jongdae by the shoulders.
“I know. I know. I know.” Jongdae jumps up and down with Jongin. “He yelled at me to get off, and it was the hottest thing ever.”
“You lucky boy, you.” Jongin ruffles Jongdae’s wind-swept hair. “Who is he?”
“No idea. But I’m gonna find out.” Jongdae skips off to the locker room. Jongin takes one more glance at the Zamboni driver, then resumes walking. He might actually skate until the end of the practice session from now on.