Work Text:
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Kim Hongjoong was fucked. Not in a joking way that he could laugh about with his friends. No, he was seriously, royally fucked. All because he had to go and open his mouth.
Hongjoong worked for one of the biggest online sports columns in South Korea, and while his colleagues have put out amazing stories, gotten interviews with some of the country's most beloved athletes, Hongjoong’s work has been mediocre at best. And he definitely hasn't managed to land an interview that would be newsworthy in a few years.
It's been a well-known secret for a while now that Hongjoong's job was on the line. He needed a story, THE story of the year or he was going to have to start packing up his desk. This has been Hongjoong's only job since graduating university, but he did know that having the word “terminated” on his resume was not a good look. Seriously, who would hire him after being fired from such a reputable column?
No one, that's who. Which is all Hongjoong could think about at the company dinner he was forced to go to after work, having more drinks than he should have had. The alcohol is to blame, really. Otherwise he wouldn't have said anything.
“My next column is going to be an exclusive about the Ice Prince,” he declared to his colleagues as he downed a shot of soju.
After a moment of awkward silence, the others started laughing, those closest to Hongjoong slapping him against his shoulder.
“The Ice Prince?” Sehun gasped, pouring himself another drink. “Adored figure skater and South Korea's darling, Park Seonghwa? You're going to get an exclusive with him?”
“Yeah.”
More laughter erupted, none of it friendly. Everyone at the table clearly thought Hongjoong was an idiot for even making the suggestion. Sehun ruffled Hongjoong's hair as though he were some kid, not a colleague.
“Hongjoong, not even the best at this column would be able to land an exclusive with Park Seonghwa. For starters, Park Seonghwa doesn't do interviews. Ever. He's always been adamant about everyone respecting his privacy. And because he has such a warm hearted demeanor, people respect his wishes. Secondly, you lack the natural skills that would be able to land this kind of interview.”
“Excuse me?”
“I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Hongjoong, but you are not charming. You're clumsy and awkward, which is the worst thing to be when you're trying to get someone to open up to you. Do you honestly think someone like Park Seonghwa would even hear two words of your proposal? Forget this foolish idea, because it will never happen.”
Hongjoong sat in silence as the others continued drinking and eating, laughing at him before the conversation veered to another topic. He could feel the anger building up inside of him. Who was Sehun to talk to him that way? Sure, he was clumsy and awkward, but it's not like Sehun is so much better than him. That man's only achieved two major interviews in his entire career. Not exactly the best of the best.
Standing up, Hongjoong had one last drink before slamming the glass on the table, gaining everyone's attention.
“Think what you want, but I'm going to get that interview. And then let's see if you feel like laughing.”
Not waiting for anyone to respond, Hongjoong walked away from the table and out of the restaurant. He imagined the laughter that started up again the moment he disappeared, but Hongjoong didn't care. He was going to prove them wrong, no matter what.
So yeah, he was definitely fucked.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“Come on, Seonghwa. You've already been in there for ten minutes.”
Opening his eyes, Seonghwa found San standing over him, already showered and changed for the night. Technically, it was safe to stay in an ice bath for fifteen minutes, but Seonghwa had a personal rule of getting out after ten. Heaving a sigh, Seonghwa grabbed on the edge of the tub, pulling himself to his feet. San was already passing him a towel before he was even fully out of the tub.
“Thanks,” Seonghwa said, wrapping the towel around his waist. “You don't have to wait for me, you know. I can take a cab.”
San smiled. “As your best friend, it is my duty to wait for you. Besides, I know you're as hungry as I am, so we might as well grab dinner together. Unless you have something else planned.”
“As my best friend, you know I don't.”
“Then hurry up and shower. I'm so hungry, I'm practically withering away.”
Seonghwa chuckled as he walked around San, heading for the showers. “Always so dramatic,” he called back.
“You love me anyway.”
Seonghwa did love San, no matter how often he got on his nerves. The two had been friends since they could barely walk, more like brothers than friends at this point. San knew Seonghwa better than anyone else, having been by his side through everything in his life. The good, the bad, and the things that Seonghwa kept hidden from the world. Not everyone had a person like San in their lives, and Seonghwa was always grateful he was one of the lucky few.
Allowing his body to warm up naturally, Seonghwa gathered his clean change of clothes from his locker and placed them on the bench outside the showers before turning on the water and stepping into the stall. The warm water splashed against his skin, trickling down his lean muscles, washing away any remaining evidence of practice.
The World Championships were only three weeks away, and Seonghwa naturally felt the pressure of competing for his country. The event was being held in Seoul, so it felt like all eyes were on him. Seonghwa had been named the frontrunner early on in the regular season and that opinion intensified as Seonghwa claimed first in every competition he competed in.
With so many eyes on him, Seonghwa's emails were full of offers from journalists, all wanting an exclusive of the figure skater who has taken the country by storm over the past two years. Every offer gets deleted, every voicemail gets ignored. Seonghwa isn't interested in selling his story. There are some things he wished to keep to himself.
As Seonghwa finished his shower, a sharp pain suddenly pinched his lower back, leaving him almost breathless. Bracing his hands against the wall, Seonghwa leaned his forehead against the damp tile, hoping that this flare-up was short lived. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating up his spine.
Eventually the pain dulled to a numbing sensation, allowing Seonghwa to finish his shower and get dressed, only wincing slightly as he moved. Considering how hard he's been practicing, Seonghwa was surprised these flare-ups weren't a lot worse, though they have been happening more frequently. Just three more weeks, that's all he needed to endure and then he'd be able to rest.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“Are you simply going to stare at your laptop screen for the foreseeable future or are you actually going to hit send?” Wooyoung asked as he lounged on the couch while Hongjoong sat at the table, bent over his laptop.
Sections of Hongjoong's brown hair were sticking up in odd directions thanks to him consistently running his fingers through the thick strands, tugging them in frustration. When he returned home from the company dinner the night before, Hongjoong immediately collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep. When he awoke, there was an email from Jin-Ah, his supervisor, approving of his plan to write an exclusive on Park Seonghwa and that he should email the figure skater immediately to set up an interview.
That was at nine in the morning and the panic that had taken root in the pit of Hongjoong's stomach didn't let up all day. Now it was after six in the evening and no email had been sent, despite Hongjoong's reassurance to Jin-Ah that everything was taken care of. Hongjoong had written, deleted, and rewritten the email close to a dozen times, each time not liking the way it turned out. Wooyoung had arrived at his apartment roughly an hour ago in hopes of dragging Hongjoong out to grab something to eat, but Hongjoong couldn't think about food. Not when he needed to send the most important email of his career.
“Don't rush me, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong mumbled as he reread the email, making sure everything looked professional. Sehun's comment from the night before echoed in his ears. Clumsy and awkward. Lacking skills and charm. Sighing in defeat, Hongjoong deleted the entire email before slamming his laptop shut. “God dammit.”
Wooyoung hopped off the couch and walked over to the table, where Hongjoong now had his head in his hands. “I think you need a break.”
“I can't do this, Wooyoung. Park Seonghwa isn't going to agree to an interview, least of all with me. I'm going to get fired.”
“Nope. Stop that right now.” Wooyoung grabbed Hongjoong's hands, forcing them away from his face. “I won't have you talk about yourself that way. We're going out for dinner, you're going to eat and have a couple of drinks, we're going to laugh and enjoy ourselves, and you're not going to speak about your job the entire time. Do you understand?”
Hongjoong chuckled, amused by the mom voice Wooyoung was attempting to use. “Fine. Let's go.”
A triumphant smile widened across Wooyoung's face as he pulled Hongjoong to his feet, fixing Hongjoong's messy hair before the two men exited the apartment. Wooyoung didn't lead them too far from Hongjoong's place, stopping by a small restaurant a couple of blocks away, the scent of meat being cooked by other patrons making their mouths water.
They claimed a table in the back corner, most of the restaurant empty save for a small group of college kids. Wooyoung immediately began chatting about the dance he's choreographing for a new idol group setting to debut later that summer, his hands wild and animated as Hongjoong cooked the meat.
Hongjoong loved Wooyoung's enthusiasm, the unapologetic way he approached life. He was clingy and loud, always showering Hongjoong with affection despite Hongjoong's protests. Wooyoung was a pest at times, but Hongjoong couldn't deny how much he needed someone like Wooyoung in his life.
While the two men ate, the bell above the door chimed as another pair of individuals walked inside. Hongjoong was too busy cooking the beef Wooyoung had just convinced him to order to notice the two men taking a seat three tables away from him and Wooyoung. If he had noticed, Hongjoong would have seen how one of the two men kept staring at him, a spark of interest in the stranger's eyes. And then proceed to freak out because of who it was.
Seonghwa should stop staring. Barely anyone was in the restaurant, so if this stranger happened to look up at the wrong time, there was no excuse that Seonghwa could come up with to explain his lingering gaze. He busied himself with arranging the side dishes properly on their table since San took charge of cooking the meat, but there was very little to actually distract him so Seonghwa's eyes flickered back to the stranger.
The man was wearing a grey polo sweater tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, the V of the sweater dipping low enough to give Seonghwa a peek at the man's collarbone and chest. His black rimmed glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, steam from the grill threatening to fog up the lenses as he cooked the meat in front of him, his lips pouting in concentration.
“What are you staring at?” San asked as he placed cooked pork onto Seonghwa's plate.
“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Seonghwa plopped the meat into his mouth, a slight rose hue now covering his cheeks.
San didn't believe Seonghwa and without being too obvious, he turned his gaze toward the two strangers. A smirk was on his face when he looked back at Seonghwa. “The yapping blonde one or the nerdy looking brunette?”
Seonghwa hushed San with a slight kick against his shin, his friend wincing in pain. While San wouldn't say or do anything to outright embarrass him, Seonghwa still felt like his voice was a little too loud for a place so empty. Regardless of being hushed, San still looked at Seonghwa expectantly.
“The brunette,” Seonghwa whispered, his attention being pulled back to the stranger.
He was laughing at something his blonde friend had said before trying to take a bite of his food. Only the chopsticks he was holding suddenly slipped from his grasp, tumbling to the table and clanking against his plate.
“Damn it,” the man grumbled as he tried to wipe away sauce that had splattered onto his sweater thanks to the falling chopsticks.
Seonghwa bit back a laugh, endeared by the man's clumsiness, finding it difficult to even want to look away. Then the man glanced up and their eyes met. Heat rose in Seonghwa's cheeks, embarrassment sinking deep into his core from being caught staring.
But the stranger didn't turn away, not for several moments. Seonghwa watched as the man's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening slightly, and the chopsticks he had just picked up clanking against his plate once again.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong gasped as he turned back to Wooyoung, picking up his chopsticks and trying to look busy. “Park Seonghwa.”
Wooyoung's eyes narrowed. “I thought I said you weren't allowed to talk about work for the rest of the night.”
“No, I mean Park Seonghwa is right there.”
Staring at him, Hongjoong finished the statement in his head. Park Seonghwa was right there, staring at him. Hongjoong was horrified. How long had Seonghwa been staring? Did he see Hongjoong make a mess of himself? Did Hongjoong just embarrass himself in front of the very person he was trying to get an interview with?
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
Without even trying to be subtle, Wooyoung turned around to look at Seonghwa, his eyes immediately falling upon San instead. A cheeky grin formed on his lips.
“Who's his friend?” Wooyoung asked, still openly staring at the two men.
“Huh?”
“The hot guy sitting across from Park Seonghwa? Who is he?”
Hongjoong allowed himself to look quickly, looking at Seonghwa's companion for the first time. He recognized the man immediately.
“That's Choi San. He's a well-known figure skater, specifically in the pairs skating division.”
“Single?”
“How would I know that?”
“Because you're a sports journalist.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes as he shoved a piece of beef into his mouth. “Go read a gossip blog if you want that kind of information.”
“Or you can get it for me when you go over and speak with Seonghwa.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Hongjoong, he's sitting right there. Forget sending an email. Go over and talk to him now. I think he wants you to. He keeps glancing over here.”
“He's busy, Wooyoung. I can just send the email when I get home.”
Wooyoung groaned loudly before rising to his feet. “You've left me no choice.” Hongjoong tried to protest as Wooyoung roughly pulled him out of his chair, but all efforts failed and Wooyoung successfully marched the two of them over to Seonghwa's table. “Hi! I'm really sorry to bother you, but my friend here has something he'd like to ask you.”
“I'm going to fucking kill you,” Hongjoong seethed through gritted teeth, trying not to look at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa, on the other hand, was staring at Hongjoong with intrigue. Up this close, Seonghwa could see the thick, long eyelashes that were almost hidden behind Hongjoong's glasses and the several piercings he had in both ears. He was even more attractive up close, and Seonghwa couldn't stop the soft grin that spread across his face.
“What would you like to ask me?”
Hongjoong was surprised by the tone of Seonghwa's voice - rich and smooth and comforting. It was an intoxicating combination. He felt his mouth open to speak, but no words came out. After a moment, he tried again.
“My name is Kim Hongjoong,” he said, offering his hand to shake.
Seonghwa happily took it before replying, “I'm Park Seonghwa.”
“Yes. I, uh, I know who you are.”
The smile on Seonghwa's face faltered slightly.
“You do?”
Hongjoong nodded, trying to grow the courage to speak.
“I think the entire country knows who you are. That's kind of related to what I wanted to ask you.” Hongjoong paused, took a deep breath, and then let the words come out. “I'm a sports journalist, and I would love to get an exclusive interview with you.”
Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa's demeanor changed. When Wooyoung had first dragged Hongjoong over to the other table, Seonghwa had seemed welcoming of their presence, his eyes full of warmth. Now he looked uncomfortable, distant, and something else that Hongjoong couldn't quite name. Maybe… disappointed? Though Hongjoong had no idea why that would be.
“A sports journalist, you say?” Seonghwa asked, leaning back in his seat.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“About five years now.”
“Well then, Kim Hongjoong, you should be more than aware that I don't do interviews. I never have.”
Hongjoong could feel his confidence waning, but he pressed on.
“I know, I just thought with the way this season has gone for you and the odds of you winning gold at the World Championships being high, that you might want to share your story.”
“You thought wrong.”
Before Hongjoong could say anything else, San raised his hand. “I can appreciate that you're just doing your job, but my friend has said no. We'd like to return to our meal now, if you don't mind.”
The embarrassment began eating away at Hongjoong's stomach, making him feel ill. He nodded his head as he stumbled back a few steps, nervously rubbing his hands together.
“Right, of course. Sorry to bother you both. Have a good night.”
Hongjoong returned to his table to grab his jacket before quickly paying for the meal and rushing out of the restaurant. Wooyoung stood back for a moment, a little surprised by how this entire conversation went.
“Did you have a question you wanted to ask?” San inquired, bringing Wooyoung's attention back to him.
Wooyoung smirked. “I did, but now clearly isn't the time. Enjoy your meal.”
Once Wooyoung had followed Hongjoong out of the restaurant, San turned back to Seonghwa, who was now eating his food absentmindedly.
“It wasn't just that he asked for an exclusive that disappointed you. You're used to people requesting something like that, exclusives or autographs. It's that you wanted him to ask something else.”
Seonghwa sighed as his eyes flickered toward the door, Hongjoong long gone by now. “The first person I've been attracted to in who knows how long, and he's only interested in a paycheck. Of course that's my luck.” Taking a drink of his water, Seonghwa looked at San with curiosity. “His friend was cute though.”
San scoffed. “Men like him are nothing but flirts. I highly doubt I'll be seeing him again.”
“Does that mean you want to?”
“No, I–” A light blush filled San's cheeks as he put more meat on the grill. “Eat your damn food, Seonghwa.”
Chuckling softly, Seonghwa plopped another piece of pork into his mouth. San was right of course. Seonghwa wouldn't be seeing Hongjoong or his friend again, no matter how much he would continue to think about those long eyelashes or those pouting lips.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Hongjoong paced nervously outside the ice rink’s entrance, watching as other cars pulled into the parking lot, waiting for the right person to arrive. He probably shouldn't be here. Seonghwa did tell Hongjoong the night before that he wasn't interested in doing an exclusive interview. But nothing about their interaction was as professional as Hongjoong had hoped their first meeting would be, thanks to Wooyoung forcing his hand, so Hongjoong thought it would be better to try again when he wasn't slightly tipsy or had soy sauce splattered on his sweater.
Underneath his winter coat today was a tailored-fit, black and cream plaid jacket over a plain white t-shirt and black slacks. His messenger bag was strapped across his chest, and Hongjoong was fiddling with the zipper to keep his hands occupied. He didn't know Seonghwa's schedule but Hongjoong assumed the figure skater would want to get an early start to practicing, especially with the World Championships just around the corner.
Hongjoong checked his watch, which read that it was just after nine in the morning. He had already been waiting for half an hour. Surely he hadn't missed Seonghwa already. Or perhaps there's a back entrance that Seonghwa always uses to keep situations like this from happening.
It was as Hongjoong was contemplating on whether to head inside the ice rink to see if Seonghwa had arrived earlier than him that another car pulled into the parking lot, with two men getting out a few moments later, each carrying their own duffle bag. While Seonghwa's expression was harder to read, San's was as clear as day.
“I thought we had established last night that he doesn't want to do an interview,” San said, visibly annoyed. “Is stalking a requirement to become a sports journalist?”
Hongjoong blushed. “I'm not… this isn't stalking.”
“No?”
Seonghwa placed a hand on San's shoulder, a look of reassurance on his face. “It's okay, San. Why don't you head inside? I'll be along in a few minutes.”
After looking between Seonghwa and Hongjoong skeptically, San nodded his head before walking into the rink, leaving the two men alone. Awkward silence lingered longer than Hongjoong would have liked, but at that moment he didn't quite know what to say. Luckily for him, or perhaps unluckily, Seonghwa wasn't as speechless.
“I guess I should be grateful that you showed up here instead of trying to find out where I live.”
“There are some boundaries no one should ever cross for a story, and that is one of them.” Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck, offering Seonghwa an apologetic smile. “I understand if you don't believe I care about someone else's boundaries, considering I made a point to intercept you before you could head into practice, even after you've said no.”
“You sports journalists are persistent, I'll give you that. But my answer is still the same.”
“Is there really no way that I can convince you to reconsider? Or even simply take some time to think about it.”
Seonghwa observed Hongjoong's demeanor, noting the slight desperation in his eyes. Now that Seonghwa thought about it, there was a similar look in Hongjoong's eyes when they talked briefly at the restaurant. This was more than just some journalist chasing a paycheck.
“Why is interviewing me so important to you? What do you get out of it? A promotion?”
Hongjoong chuckled humorlessly as he messed with the zipper of his messenger bag some more. “Nothing that rewarding. I just… I really need this.”
Seonghwa wasn't sure why Hongjoong wasn't giving him a straight answer. Perhaps the journalist thought he'd be manipulating Seonghwa if he told him the whole truth. If that was the case, Seonghwa could respect that, even if it changed nothing.
“I'm really sorry, but I'm not comfortable doing an interview.”
The last shred of hope that Hongjoong was holding on to was completely shattered. Honestly, there wasn't a whole lot to begin with. He should have known better. Sehun was right. This was a foolish idea.
“I appreciate you taking the time to hear me out again, especially with how busy you are right now. Best of luck with the Championships.”
Before Hongjoong could walk away, Seonghwa reached out to gently touch Hongjoong's shoulder. The contact startled Hongjoong slightly and Seonghwa immediately retracted his hand, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder to try to mask his embarrassment.
“Wait here,” Seonghwa instructed before disappearing into the ice rink.
Hongjoong stood on the sidewalk, equally confused and intrigued by Seonghwa's demand. He had already rejected Hongjoong's request, what could he possibly be doing that required Hongjoong to wait? Roughly fifteen minutes later, Hongjoong received his answer when Seonghwa walked back outside, this time joined by a woman in her late thirties holding a document and a white visitor's badge wrapped in a thin black lanyard.
“You must be the journalist,” the woman said, leaning back against the building. “I'm Han Yubin, Seonghwa's coach.”
“A pleasure to meet you, ma'am.”
“Mhmm.” Yubin handed the document and badge to Hongjoong, a stern look on her face. “As I'm sure you are aware, this rink has time set aside for the skaters competing in the World Championships, permitting little to no amateur skaters during those hours. These are the terms that Seonghwa has agreed to in permitting you access inside the ice rink. If you're in agreement, then sign away.”
Completely stunned, Hongjoong glanced down at the document, reading over the terms. They almost felt like a cruel joke.
No video or audio recording. No photography. No personal questions directed to Park Seonghwa. No asking other skaters in the rink about Park Seonghwa. Any information obtained is off the record unless stated otherwise. May sit and observe practice until the World Championships, so long as no skater is distracted, especially Park Seonghwa. Violation of any of these terms will result in access immediately being revoked.
This wasn't access, not in the slightest.
“With terms like these, all I'm allowed to do is come inside and sit.”
A tiny smirk crept at the corner of Seonghwa's mouth. “It's better than what you had earlier.”
“Is it?”
“If you don't like the offer, you don't have to take it.”
Seonghwa reached out to take the document and badge from Hongjoong, but the journalist clutched them to his chest. “I didn't say I wouldn't take it. I'm just not sure how this will actually help me.”
“Who knows? Maybe you'll end up finding a story that doesn't have to do with me.”
That very well could be possible, but it wouldn't matter. The only story worth selling, the only one that would save Hongjoong's job, was an exclusive on Park Seonghwa. And that clearly wasn't going to happen.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“I can't believe you let him in here,” San said as he and Seonghwa took a water break after a good hour of practice.
Seonghwa glanced at the tiered seating surrounding the rink, completely empty apart from a few parents of the younger skaters gathered together and Hongjoong sitting off to the side. Alone and looking a little out of place.
Hongjoong had walked into the rink a few minutes after Seonghwa and Yubin, having stowed his messenger bag back in his car, bringing in only his phone and a notebook and pen. In the past hour, Seonghwa didn't see Hongjoong on his phone more than a couple of times, and the notebook sat unused next to him on the bench.
“I kind of felt bad for him. I think he might be struggling at work.”
“How is that your problem? You don't even know the man.”
“I know. I just wanted to help in some way.”
“By giving him the least helpful access a journalist has ever received?”
Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh as he and San returned to the ice. “I had to improvise, okay. It was the best I could come up with.”
San glided across the ice, circling Seonghwa with a knowing grin on his face, deepening one of his dimples. “Are you sure there isn't another reason you want him to have access?”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don't know. You're the one who was immediately smitten by him last night.”
“I was not.”
“Tell that to the rose hue currently covering your cheeks.”
With a playful wink, San skated off to find his skating partner on the other side of the rink. Seonghwa allowed his eyes to search the benches again, his gaze immediately falling upon Hongjoong. The man was now writing something in his notebook, his brow pinched together in concentration.
Though they barely knew each other, Seonghwa had this feeling that Hongjoong wasn't like other sports journalists that he had encountered in the past two years. There was something soft about Hongjoong, not quite insecure but almost like his confidence has been shaken and he's trying to gain it back. Seonghwa could relate to that, and perhaps that's why he felt so inclined to help Hongjoong somehow.
It wasn't because Seonghwa was smitten. Definitely not that.
Hongjoong felt so awkward sitting alone in the rink, but he didn't know what else to do. He didn't think Seonghwa was going to miraculously change his mind in the next three weeks, but not signing that agreement would guarantee Hongjoong nothing. This at least gave Hongjoong time to figure out how to save his job. No pressure.
The first two days were uneventful. Hongjoong sat in the same spot up in the tiered seats, watched Seonghwa practice his routine with a grace that Hongjoong has never known, ate food from one of the concession stands inside the rink, and then went home once Seonghwa disappeared into the locker room at the end of practice.
Despite nothing happening, Hongjoong wasn't necessarily bored by any means. He had his notebook, which was getting messy with random doodles he would sketch or thoughts he would quickly jot down, questions he would ask Seonghwa if he was allowed to.
After returning home from that embarrassing run-in at the restaurant, Hongjoong had searched up any information that the internet had on Park Seonghwa. There was quite a bit from when Seonghwa was younger, a lot of articles talking about how promising of a skating career he was bound to have, a lot of big name sponsorships lining up for him. Then everything went silent from the time Seonghwa was fifteen to when he came back to the figure skating scene about two years ago. That's ten years worth of information that no one knows about.
While Hongjoong wanted to respect Seonghwa's wishes and respect his privacy, the journalist in him couldn't help but be intrigued. There was so much about the figure skater that Hongjoong wanted to know.
And it wasn't just the idea of getting a story that interested Hongjoong, it was Seonghwa himself. Not much was said between the two men, but Seonghwa always addressed Hongjoong kindly, offering a warm smile any time they were near each other. Hongjoong was quickly becoming familiar with Seonghwa's laugh, the melodic sound always pulling Hongjoong's attention away from whatever he had been doing. Hongjoong would watch Seonghwa glide across the ice, mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements, the elegance of his spins, the finesse of each jump, and would catch himself thinking about just how beautiful the figure skater was.
Of course, these thoughts would immediately be pushed aside and Hongjoong would bury his nose back into his notebook, distracting himself with words and random sketches.
Walking across the lot to the entrance of the ice rink took a lot of concentration on the third day, the thin layer of snow that had fallen overnight threatening to send Hongjoong tumbling to the ground. He walked slowly, clutching his notebook to his chest, taking deep breaths of the chilled air with each step he took.
Just as he reached for the door, something cold smacked into Hongjoong's shoulder, and he turned to find San clapping his hands and laughing as he and Seonghwa walked across the lot. The snow didn't seem to bother them in the slightest.
“Sorry, I couldn't resist,” San said in between laughs, his dimples on full display.
Hongjoong glanced at his shoulder, finding remnants of the snowball San had thrown still there. Seonghwa noticed the same thing and reached out to brush the snow off at the same time Hongjoong raised his hand, their fingers caressing briefly before Seonghwa dropped his hand back to his side.
Not wanting awkward silence to linger, Seonghwa addressed San's behavior. “Forgive my friend. He's harmless, I swear.”
“Don't worry about it. It's not like he aimed for my head,” Hongjoong replied, ignoring the way his stomach swooped from that brief touch. He should not be reacting this way to someone he was trying to get an interview with. Jin-Ah would never let that slide.
Before the three men could walk into the rink, another snowball flew across the lot, hitting San in the back. Hongjoong heard Wooyoung's laugh before he saw him, his friend hurrying across the lot, almost falling several times.
“Hongjoong is far too kind to retaliate, but I'm not,” Wooyoung explained once he reached the trio, an unamused look now on San's face. “It was a great shot, don't you think?”
“What is he doing here?” San asked Hongjoong, completely turning his back to Wooyoung.
“I was just about to ask him that.”
Wooyoung wrapped his arm around Hongjoong's shoulder, smiling widely. “Isn't it obvious? I'm here to keep you company.”
“You don't have access,” San pointed out bluntly.
“It's a public rink.”
“Yes, but we have it reserved for skaters participating in the World Championships. Besides, one journalist is more than enough.”
Wooyoung smirked as he leaned forward, forcing San to look at him. “Then it's a good thing I'm not a journalist.”
Rolling his eyes, San turned to Seonghwa. “I'm going to leave you to deal with this.”
As San opened the door to head inside, Wooyoung called out, “I'm a dance choreographer, in case you were curious.”
“I wasn't,” San mumbled back, the door not closing fast enough to keep Hongjoong from seeing how San's cheeks began to blush.
Seonghwa looked between Hongjoong and Wooyoung before giving them both a resigned nod and offering Wooyoung his hand to shake.
“You and I haven't formally introduced ourselves. I'm Park Seonghwa.”
“Nice to meet you, Seonghwa. I'm Jung Wooyoung.”
“As long as you follow the same rules that have been given to Hongjoong, I'll tell Hyunsuk, the security guard, to give you a visitor's badge.”
“That's very kind of you.”
“Be honest, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said as the two men took a seat up in Hongjoong's usual spot once they got inside, Wooyoung now proudly displaying the visitor's badge around his neck. “You didn't come here for me.”
Wooyoung gasped, his hand pressing against his chest in shock. “As your best friend, Hongjoong, I am insulted. What other reason would I have in coming to an ice rink on the weekend?”
Hongjoong tipped his head to the side, motioning to where Seonghwa and San were warming up. “How about him?”
“Seonghwa? Nope, not my type.”
“Obviously I was referring to San. You haven't taken your eyes off of him since we walked inside. You might as well be holding up a sign with big, bold letters saying that you're interested.”
Wooyoung shrugged. “More than one thing can be true at the same time, Hongjoong. I can want to keep my best friend company while also checking out the very attractive man with high cheekbones and broad shoulders, who could probably lift me above his head as if I weigh no more than a leaf.”
“I'm not sure your usual charm is going to work on someone like Choi San.”
“Only time will tell.”
A couple of hours later, Hongjoong and Wooyoung were sitting in front of one of the concession stands, enjoying the burgers and soda they had just ordered for lunch.
“Any new developments regarding the article?” Wooyoung asked before taking a bite.
Hongjoong shook his head. “Honestly, I don't think anything will change. Seonghwa's pretty set on not talking about personal things.”
“Then why keep coming back?”
“If I'm not here, then I'd be expected to return to the office. I keep getting messages from Jin-Ah asking for updates. I'm not sure how many more of my vague replies she'll accept.”
“She shouldn't be breathing down your neck so often, Hongjoong.”
“She's my supervisor. That's kind of her job.”
Wooyoung opened his mouth to respond, but changed his mind at the last second. This was an argument Hongjoong and Wooyoung have had over the years, neither one of them coming to an agreement. Wooyoung believes that Jin-Ah is too micromanaging, not allowing Hongjoong to naturally grow as a journalist. Hongjoong thinks that's too harsh of an assessment, knowing that Jin-Ah is just trying to be helpful. After all, Hongjoong has proven time and again that he desperately needed help.
Familiar laughter filled the air, and Hongjoong turned to find Seonghwa and San walking toward the concession stand. When Seonghwa noticed Hongjoong, he smiled warmly and waved. Hongjoong shyly returned the gesture, making Wooyoung giggle.
“Now it all makes sense,” Wooyoung muttered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
Ignoring Hongjoong's question, Wooyoung obnoxiously waved to Seonghwa and San. “You two should join us.”
Hongjoong expected Seonghwa to refuse - San certainly looked like he wanted to - so he couldn't keep the surprise off of his face when Seonghwa nodded. “Okay.”
Next thing Hongjoong knew, Seonghwa and San were sitting across from them, the space suddenly feeling much smaller. While Hongjoong was struggling not to make a mess or embarrass himself, Wooyoung was sitting comfortably beside him looking rather pleased. Hongjoong was going to kill him.
“How long have you been a choreographer, Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asked after a moment, his eyes showing nothing but interest.
Wooyoung smiled. “I've been dancing since before I could walk. While my parents were definitely skeptical about me choosing a career that could easily fail, they weren't too surprised by my choice. I've had my own studio for about three years now, and I'd say I'm doing pretty well for myself.”
Hongjoong chuckled as he ruffled Wooyoung's hair. “He's being modest. Wooyoung has choreographed for some big name kpop artists since we graduated from college. He was just telling me the other day that he's working on something for a group set to debut.”
“What drew you to dance?”
Wooyoung sat silent for a moment, a little shocked that San had been the one to ask the question.
“When I was younger, I think I just had a lot of energy and needed a way to let it out. But as I grew up, I found that it was the perfect way to convey a story, whether that story was personal or something more broad that others could relate to. It's like figure skating in that way, though your stage is made of ice.”
San's eyes softened as he absorbed Wooyoung's words, pleasantly surprised that this shameless flirt had more layers than he was letting on. Seonghwa and Hongjoong shared a knowing look before they continued eating, letting Wooyoung carry the conversation.
And just like that, a routine was created. Hongjoong continued showing up to the rink every day, watching Seonghwa from his usual seat, eating lunch with him and San, talking about nothing personal but still enjoying each other's company. Wooyoung would show up every once in a while, usually around lunch, and it was during those days that the conversations were more lively, Wooyoung having no problem talking about himself. San was looking less and less annoyed by Wooyoung's presence the more Wooyoung showed up, though he would never admit that.
While Seonghwa had gotten used to Hongjoong showing up every day, he found himself constantly getting distracted by the man's lingering gaze. There was a different kind of pressure Seonghwa felt the moment he stepped on the ice, this unexplainable need to impress Hongjoong with his skills. But it was more than that. It was a need to be seen, to be understood.
Seonghwa came to that realization as he was practicing one of his jumps, his mind suddenly distracted, and he landed wrong, smacking against the ice with enough force to knock the wind out of him. A sharp pain shot up his back, leaving him motionless on the ice.
“Seonghwa!” San exclaimed as he sped across the rink, coming to a halt beside Seonghwa and dropping to his knees. “Tell me how bad.”
Seonghwa took in a deep breath, then another. Now was not the time to accidentally aggravate his back. There were still two weeks until the Championships.
Thankfully, the pain didn't linger and with San's help, Seonghwa was able to move to a seated position. San was looking at him with a worried expression, still waiting for Seonghwa to give a response.
“The initial fall was about a six, but it's dropped to a two now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, San. I'm okay.”
“You should take a break.”
Seonghwa wasn't going to argue with San. His friend would carry him over to the bench if he had to. Grabbing onto San's outstretched hand, Seonghwa rose to his feet, slowly gliding over to the side of the rink. It was at that moment that Seonghwa noticed Hongjoong, no longer up in his usual spot but standing on the edge of the rink, panic overflowing in his eyes. Changing directions, Seonghwa skated over to Hongjoong.
“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asked, his hand coming up from his side, as if he wanted to check for injuries himself. When he realized what he was doing, Hongjoong shoved his hands into his pockets. “You hit the ice really hard.”
“I've had worse falls,” Seonghwa replied, walking around Hongjoong to take a seat on the first row of benches, letting out an exhausted sigh. “I just need to rest for a bit and I'll be okay.”
“Is there something I can do to help?”
Seonghwa smiled as he patted the spot next to him. “Keep me company. San or Yubin will bring me whatever I need.”
Sure enough, Yubin made her way over to Seonghwa a few minutes later, holding a couple of pain relief patches.
“Turn around,” Yubin ordered, opening one of the patches.
Seonghwa angled himself on the bench so that Yubin had better access to his back, pulling up his shirt slightly so that she could put the patches in place. Hongjoong watched Seonghwa intently, noting the way Seonghwa winced whenever Yubin pressed the patches to his skin. His hand itched to reach out for Seonghwa, to offer him some type of comfort, but he kept his distance.
“I assume you want me to be done for the day,” Seonghwa said once Yubin had finished putting the patches on.
“A wise assumption, yes. I'd feel a lot better if you went home, but I know you ride with San. Just sit here and relax.”
“I promise not to move unless absolutely necessary.”
“Good.”
Saying nothing else, Yubin turned to go attend to the other skaters.
“If you're comfortable with it, I could drive you home,” Hongjoong suggested after a few moments of silence, looking down at his hands instead of meeting Seonghwa's gaze. “I have a car.”
“That's kind of you to offer, but I'm fine with waiting for San.” When Seonghwa noticed the slight disappointment in Hongjoong's eyes, Seonghwa gently nudged his shoulder. “If I was in more pain, I'd let you drive me. But I really am okay.”
Hongjoong nodded, feeling relief wash over him. “In the week that I've been watching you skate, that's the first time I've seen you fall.”
“Let's hope it's the only time. I fell a lot more when I was younger, but I was also less graceful back then.”
Seonghwa froze, suddenly realizing what he had just done. Would Hongjoong misunderstand and begin asking Seonghwa a bunch of questions? Yes, Seonghwa wanted Hongjoong to see and understand him, but not from a journalist's point of view.
Hongjoong chuckled lightly as he leaned against the backrest of the bench. “I've never been graceful, but I'm sure you picked up on that back at the restaurant.”
Any tension that Seonghwa had begun to feel faded away and he angled himself more comfortably on the bench, allowing himself to lean slightly closer to Hongjoong.
“Lucky for you, it's cute.”
Hongjoong's face felt like it had been set on fire and he instinctively reached for his notebook, suddenly in desperate need of a distraction. Only his notebook wasn't next to him. He'd abandoned it at his usual seat when he rushed down to the edge of the rink the moment Seonghwa fell.
Without saying a word, Hongjoong ran up to retrieve his notebook, only explaining himself when he sat next to Seonghwa again.
“I don't want to forget this when I leave today. Misplacing things is another fun quirk of mine.”
“What exactly have you been writing in there?” Seonghwa asked, his gaze lingering on the notebook.
“I haven't violated our agreement, I promise. I just…” After a moment of contemplating, Hongjoong handed the notebook to Seonghwa. “Here.”
Seonghwa was a little reluctant to take the notebook, feeling like he shouldn't look inside. Hongjoong deserved his privacy like Seonghwa did. But Hongjoong was the one offering, which meant he was fine with Seonghwa seeing this part of him.
When he flipped the notebook open, Seonghwa was met with random sketches and words or questions filling up the pages. The sketches were of Seonghwa skating, and though they weren't overly detailed, Hongjoong was still able to capture the elegance of Seonghwa's movements.
“Do you often sketch like this when you're writing an article?” Seonghwa asked as he lightly traced one of the sketches with his fingertips.
Hongjoong shrugged, biting his bottom lip shyly as he watched Seonghwa continue to flip through the notebook. “Sometimes I need a distraction to clear my head, and sketching or jotting down words helps. Almost all of my field notes look like this.”
Seonghwa skimmed over the words, heat rising in his cheeks when he came across ones like beautiful and exquisite and breathtaking. Did Hongjoong write those to describe Seonghwa or his skating skills? He could ask, but Seonghwa didn't want to make things awkward between them, so he focused on the questions written in the notebook instead. One in particular caught his attention, because he's often thought about it himself.
And this time, Seonghwa made the conscious choice to share something personal.
“I'm not sure what I would be doing if I hadn't chosen a career in figure skating. I've been wearing skates since the moment I learned how to walk. Figure skating just feels so natural, like breathing in fresh air. But I should contemplate what my life would be like without it, especially now.”
“What do you mean?”
“While some figure skaters do continue their careers into their mid to late thirties, it's not exactly common. Like any sport, it takes a toll on a person's body. Twenty-seven might seem too young to start thinking about retirement, but I know it's inevitable.”
Sadness filled Seonghwa's eyes, the weight of the emotion so heavy that even Hongjoong could feel it. There was a darkness to Seonghwa's words, something deeply personal and hidden. As much as Hongjoong wanted to know what it was, he had an even stronger urge to protect it. He really was proving to be a terrible journalist.
“Retirement could bring some opportunities that you've been missing out on. I mean, what is something you've always wanted to do?”
Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong skeptically. “Who exactly wants to know? Hongjoong the journalist? Or Hongjoong the individual?”
Hongjoong answered honestly. “Both.”
“Oh?”
“But as luck would have it, the journalist has taken the day off. So I guess awkward, clumsy Hongjoong is the one asking.”
That brought a smile to Seonghwa's lips, and he couldn't help but smack Hongjoong's knee playfully. “You describe yourself that way as if those are flaws.”
“Aren't they?”
“Not to me.”
Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away from Seonghwa, the entire ice rink feeling as though he stepped into a gigantic furnace. He really needed to get a grip. Reacting this way was highly unprofessional. Seonghwa was just being kind, that's it. He wasn't flirting. And Hongjoong definitely didn't want him to flirt.
“Well, umm, do I get to know your answer?”
“If I had to choose one thing, it would be traveling. There are so many places that I want to go.”
“Any place in particular?”
“I've always wanted to go to Italy, specifically Lake Como.”
“Why Lake Como?”
Seonghwa bit the inside of his cheek nervously, suddenly feeling shy. “It's where they filmed the wedding scene between Anakin and Padmé.” When his answer was met with silence, Seonghwa explained further. “Star Wars. I'm a big Star Wars fan.”
“Oh, right. That sounds like it could be a special trip.”
Seonghwa nodded. “It's not a trip I'd take by myself. When I do go, I want to make sure it's a once in a lifetime experience.”
“I'm sure it will be.” Hongjoong was silent for a moment as he looked out at the ice rink, watching as San hoisted his partner into a complicated lift. “Why now? Why have you decided to start sharing pieces of your personal life with me now?”
When Hongjoong turned back to Seonghwa, he was met with a gentle smile. Closing the notebook, Seonghwa placed it back in Hongjoong's hands.
“You allowed me to see a part of you first, so it only felt right to do the same. Besides, I trust you to honor our agreement.”
“I– thank you.”
The two men spent the rest of the practice watching the other skaters, Seonghwa explaining the different techniques being used. Hongjoong left his notebook untouched, caring more to listen to Seonghwa speak, endeared by the way Seonghwa's eyes grew big and appeared to sparkle as he talked about something he loved.
When practice ended, Seonghwa waved goodbye before heading for the locker room, unaware that Hongjoong waited until he disappeared around the corner to finally grab his things and leave the rink. Wanting to get home faster, Seonghwa skipped the ice bath and opted for a warm shower instead.
Despite shortening his practice time because of the fall, Seonghwa's muscles felt more strained than usual. As soon as he got home, he was going to take his medicine and crawl into bed to get a good night's sleep.
At least, that's what Seonghwa had planned. He did take medicine and crawl into bed, but he found that he couldn't fall asleep. His mind kept going back to Hongjoong's notebook, and a curiosity that Seonghwa couldn't shake began to blossom inside of him.
Reaching for his phone, Seonghwa looked up Hongjoong's name for the first time since they met. A few articles immediately popped up, though not as many as Seonghwa had expected. Without hesitation, Seonghwa clicked on the first link and began to read.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“Are you sure you're not in pain?” Yubin asked for the eleventh time that day, and it took everything in Seonghwa not to roll his eyes at his coach.
Seonghwa had expected a level of concern from Yubin and San at the start of practice that morning, especially with how exhausted Seonghwa knew he looked, but it's been several hours. There was no need to keep asking.
“I promise, Yubin, I'm fine.”
“You said that you struggled to fall asleep last night.”
“And I explained that it had nothing to do with pain.”
Yubin's eyes narrowed. “Was it the journalist? Has he been bothering you?”
Seonghwa's eyes instinctively flickered toward Hongjoong, who was seated next to Wooyoung, laughing at something his friend had said. It was because of Hongjoong, but not in the way that Yubin thought.
“No. You really can stop worrying now. I made sure to take it easy during practice today. It honestly didn't even feel productive in the slightest.”
Yubin sighed as she reached out to affectionately ruffle Seonghwa's hair. “I feel like I'm your mother with the way you stress me out.”
Seonghwa glided away from his coach, laughing as he went. When Seonghwa and San had come out of the locker room later that evening ready to leave, both were surprised to see Hongjoong and Wooyoung still there.
“We're going out for dinner,” Wooyoung declared once Seonghwa and San reached the side of the rink they were waiting at.
San crossed his arms over his chest. “Are we now?”
“Yes. I'm in the mood for some steak or pasta. Or both. Any objections?”
“Actually–”
“Dinner sounds great,” Seonghwa said, cutting San off. “Lead the way.”
“Why are you forcing me to do this?” San asked Seonghwa once they were alone in San's car.
Seonghwa chuckled. “You can cut the act, San. I see the way you blush every time Wooyoung flirts with you. Aren't you a little curious to see where this could lead?”
“I'm too busy for a dating life, casual or serious.”
“The World Championships are in two weeks. You're quite literally free after that night.”
San cleared his throat before turning the background music up, a subtle way to tell Seonghwa to stop talking. When they arrived at the restaurant, Hongjoong and Wooyoung were already inside, sitting across from each other at a table meant for four. Seonghwa had a feeling this was Wooyoung's doing, purposefully leaving an empty chair next to him for San.
“They haven't seen us yet,” San mumbled as they weaved through the restaurant. “We can sneak out and head home.”
“Stop being such a child.”
Seonghwa grabbed hold of San's arm, leading him over to the table and forcing him to sit beside Wooyoung before taking his own seat next to Hongjoong.
“I feel like I should apologize or something,” Hongjoong whispered as he and Seonghwa looked over the menu. Across the table, Wooyoung was already teasing San, draping his arm over the back of San's chair. “Wooyoung can get tunnel vision when he wants something.”
“Does he actually like San, or is this just fun for him?”
Hongjoong glanced over at his friend, catching the way Wooyoung looked at San who was desperately trying not to blush. The flirtatious smirk was still there, but the tenderness in Wooyoung's eyes was unmistakable.
A small smile formed on Hongjoong's lips as he turned toward Seonghwa. “He definitely likes him. Trust me.”
The group ordered food, their conversation alternating between the World Championships and the dance Wooyoung was busy choreographing. When the food arrived, Seonghwa sighed before taking a bite of his creamy tomato pasta. Wooyoung definitely made the correct choice of restaurant to go to.
As he was about to take another bite, Seonghwa glanced over at Hongjoong and was dumbfounded by what he was witnessing. Hongjoong was cutting into his steak, but holding his cutlery in the most unusual way. Yet there was something incredibly Hongjoong about it, and Seonghwa struggled to hold back his laughter.
“What?” Hongjoong asked when he noticed Seonghwa staring at him. Unable to speak without laughing, Seonghwa simply pointed to the cutlery in Hongjoong's hands. “Are you making fun of the way I hold my fork and knife?”
“No,” Seonghwa stuttered before shoving some more pasta into his mouth. “I would never do that. I just– I'm concerned we might have another chopsticks incident.”
Hongjoong glared at Seonghwa before he began cutting his steak more aggressively, determined to prove Seonghwa wrong. Unfortunately, the universe was not on Hongjoong's side, and his forearm knocked against his glass of water, tipping it over.
“Shit,” Hongjoong exclaimed as he reached out to turn the glass up-right, Seonghwa now giggling into his hand.
Wooyoung tsked while handing Hongjoong an extra napkin to clean up the mess. “I really can't take you anywhere, can I?”
Unable to stop himself, Seonghwa asked, “How often do you make a mess like this?”
Hongjoong was quiet for a moment and Seonghwa wondered if he'd even answer the question. Perhaps Seonghwa was teasing him a little too much. But then Seonghwa noticed the tiny smile form at the corner of Hongjoong's mouth.
“In my whole life, or just this week?”
Still giggling, Seonghwa reached out to pat Hongjoong's wrist affectionately, the warmth of his skin sending a chill up Hongjoong's arm.
“Please, don't ever change.”
Before Hongjoong could even think about how to react to that, his phone buzzed inside of his pocket and when he pulled it out, a new message from Jin-Ah was waiting for him. Hongjoong didn't need to read it to know what it said. All of Jin-Ah's messages recently were the same.
“Is everything okay?” Seonghwa asked, noticing the way the light that had been in Hongjoong's eyes started to fade.
“Yeah, everything's fine.”
Seonghwa didn't believe him, and neither did Wooyoung.
“Was that Jin-Ah?”
Hongjoong nodded. “She wants my notes to look over, to see if the story is headed in the right direction.” Hongjoong could feel Seonghwa tense a bit next to him, so he quickly put him at ease. “Of course, there are no notes to send her, because there's no story being written.”
“Then why would she make such a request?” San asked, still a little more skeptical of Hongjoong’s intentions than Seonghwa was.
“Because she's made the assumption that I've gotten permission to write this story, and because I'm a coward, I haven't corrected her.”
Wooyoung couldn't help but chime in, annoyance dripping from his voice. “And because that is how Hongjoong's supervisor has always been. Hongjoong can't write anything without her needing to give her input.”
“Wooyoung.”
“It's true, Hongjoong. Every single one of your articles have been edited by that woman. She practically changes the original draft you hand in.”
Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong in surprise. “Is that true?”
Hongjoong blushed, feeling more than a little embarrassed by having his incompetence as a writer aired out in front of Seonghwa. He definitely wasn't going to change his mind about the interview now.
“It's her job as my supervisor to polish up my work.”
“This explains everything. That's why your work didn't feel like it was written by you.”
It was now Hongjoong's turn to be surprised.
“What are you talking about?”
“I looked you up last night and read all of your published work,” Seonghwa explained.
“Wait, is that why you couldn't fall asleep last night?” San asked, but Seonghwa completely ignored his question.
“As I read the articles, I couldn't help but feel like there was a disconnect from the words written and the man I've gotten to know over the past week. But if your supervisor heavily edits your work…” Seonghwa paused for a moment before grabbing onto Hongjoong's wrist. “Do you still have the original copies?”
“You don't want to read them, Seonghwa. They're not good.”
“Why don't you let me be the judge of that.”
Hongjoong sighed, leaning back in his seat. He clearly wasn't going to win this discussion.
“The original copies are saved on my laptop. I can bring it to the ice rink tomorrow.”
“Or I can just come to your place tonight and read them.”
Such a logical response, and overall an innocent one as well. Yet the idea of Seonghwa inside of his apartment set Hongjoong's skin ablaze. He should say no.
“That works, too.”
“Are you still wanting me to be your chauffeur?” San asked as he hid his smile behind his glass of water.
Seonghwa shook his head. “Hongjoong can give me a ride. Unless that offer was only a one-time thing.”
Hongjoong focused on cutting another piece of steak as he replied. “No, it wasn't a one-time offer.”
That's how Seonghwa ended up walking into Hongjoong's apartment an hour later, a look of embarrassment on Hongjoong's face as he rushed around the living room, trying to tidy up a bit. The living room and dining area was messier than Seonghwa would have kept it, but not overwhelmingly so. Organized chaos is how he'd describe it.
Loose paper and notebooks spread across the table and counter top, sweatshirts draped over the back of the couch and chairs. The throw blanket was bunched up on the couch instead of folded nicely. Seonghwa counted three different types of headphones and recording devices in random places throughout the space.
When Hongjoong seemed satisfied, he directed Seonghwa to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket at the last second and tossing it into his bedroom.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll get my laptop.” It took Hongjoong a couple of minutes to locate the laptop - it was hidden beneath the blanket at the foot of his bed - before he sat beside Seonghwa and turned the laptop on. “I still don't understand why you want to read these.”
“I have a theory about your work, and reading the original drafts will tell me if I'm right or not.”
Once the laptop was on and Hongjoong was able to pull up the folder that held the original articles, he handed the laptop to Seonghwa and waited. The silence in the apartment was unnaturally loud as Seonghwa read. Hongjoong played with the sleeve of his sweater, more nervous than he had ever been.
Would Seonghwa laugh at him? Call him a fool for even suggesting the idea of writing an exclusive on him with such mediocre skills? Or would Seonghwa stare at him without uttering a word, the disappointment in his eyes speaking for him? Hongjoong didn't know which would be worse, but he knew there was no other response that he would receive.
At least, that's what Hongjoong assumed until he heard a light sniffle next to him and looked up to find tears streaking down Seonghwa's cheeks. Not understanding what had made Seonghwa begin to cry, Hongjoong leaned over to see which article he was reading. Lee Doyoung. Football player whose father passed away just before the FIFA World Cup in 2023. It was the most emotionally driven article that Hongjoong had ever written, and yet he still wasn't able to do it right.
Suddenly feeling vulnerable, Hongjoong closed the laptop while Seonghwa was still reading and tossed it onto the coffee table.
“That's enough,” Hongjoong said, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Hongjoong.”
“You don't have to say anything, Seonghwa. I already know that I'm poorly skilled.”
Warmth wrapped around Hongjoong's hand and pulled it away from his face. When Hongjoong met Seonghwa's gaze, the tears were still there.
“I don't know who told you that you are lacking in skills, but I can assure you it's quite the opposite. What you've written, your original articles, are so full of life, of passion, of raw emotion. I remember hearing about Lee Doyoung's father, I even read a few blog posts about his passing. No one conveyed Doyoung's grief of losing his father mixed with his desire to win the Cup the way you did.”
Hongjoong shook his head. “That– I… It wasn't good enough, that's why Jin-Ah stepped in to help.”
Seonghwa hadn't let go of Hongjoong's hand yet and he squeezed it gently as he spoke.
“I've read both versions, Hongjoong. She didn't help. She drained the life out of what you had originally written. What ended up getting published holds none of your charm or empathy. You don't need the help she's convinced you that you need. You, Kim Hongjoong, are a talented writer. And your work, your real work, deserves to be seen.”
Hongjoong didn't know what to say. Wooyoung has told him similar things over the past couple of years, but Wooyoung was his best friend. Of course he would tell Hongjoong that he's talented. But Seonghwa? They've known each other for a week. He'd have no reason to lie to Hongjoong.
Did that mean Wooyoung had been telling the truth this whole time? Was Jin-Ah purposefully hindering his work for some reason?
“I'd want it to be you,” Seonghwa whispered after several moments of silence. He was still holding onto Hongjoong's hand, warm and soft, his thumb gently caressing Hongjoong's skin.
“What do you mean?”
“If I were to give my story to someone and allow them to publish it, I'd want it to be you. It's clear you care about the heart of the people you write about, and you allow it to breathe life into your work.” Seonghwa met Hongjoong's gaze, giving him an apologetic smile. “But that's exactly why I can't give it to you. Everything that you'd be able to capture, to convey would be mutilated by the woman you work under.”
Hongjoong nodded slowly, pulling his hand from Seonghwa's grasp.
“Despite your answer still being no, it means a lot to know that I'm not the reason you're giving that answer.”
“I'm sorry, Hongjoong.”
“You don't need to apologize. I'm the one who drunkenly announced at a company dinner that I'd be getting an exclusive interview with the most private athlete in our country.”
Seonghwa chuckled lightly. “What even made you think of me?”
“I was watching videos of you before the dinner.” Heat rose in Hongjoong's cheeks and he stumbled over his words to clarify. “I mean, I often watch clips of different athletes, especially ones that everyone has been talking about. You've been the hot topic all season.”
“And do I live up to the hype? Am I everything you thought I would be?”
“You're better.” Clearing his throat, Hongjoong awkwardly rose to his feet. “It's getting late. I should probably take you home before San starts calling, asking where you are.”
The car ride was quiet as Hongjoong drove Seonghwa home, only the sound of soft music playing in the background and the GPS filling the silence. Seonghwa didn't mind. He knew there was a lot on Hongjoong's mind, so trying to force a conversation didn't feel right.
But the silence left room for his own mind to wander, and Seonghwa couldn't stop thinking about holding Hongjoong's hand back in his apartment. The emptiness Seonghwa felt around his own hand was consuming and he had this strong urge to seek out Hongjoong's touch, to be wrapped in its warmth.
When Hongjoong pulled up in front of Seonghwa's apartment complex, Seonghwa continued to sit in the passenger seat instead of immediately getting out of the car.
“Is everything okay?” Hongjoong asked, turning slightly to face Seonghwa.
“Is your job on the line if you don't get an exclusive from me?”
Hongjoong released a sigh, hating that Seonghwa made it to that conclusion.
“My job has been hanging on the edge since before I suggested the idea to all of my peers.”
“But that's why you suggested it, right? To save your job?”
“You don't need to worry about it, Seonghwa. I'll figure something else out. My job isn't your responsibility so please don't feel obligated to cross your own boundaries for me.”
“How long are you going to let Jin-Ah think that we're working on an article together?”
“For as long as I can. Maybe covering the World Championships and getting a couple quotes from you, San and the other skaters will be enough.”
“So that means I'll still be seeing you at the ice rink?”
“Yes.”
Seonghwa smiled softly, whispering, “Good,” before getting out of the car.
Hongjoong rolled down the window to call out, “Goodnight,” as Seonghwa turned to head into his apartment.
Seonghwa took maybe two steps before spinning around and leaning down to rest his forearms on the open window.
“Can I see your phone?” Hongjoong pulled the phone out of his pocket and placed it in Seonghwa's open hand. After a few seconds of typing, Seonghwa returned it to Hongjoong. “Text me if you ever need to vent about work. Or if you simply want to talk.”
“We already see each other almost every day at the rink.”
“I know.”
With a small, flirtatious grin forming on his lips, Seonghwa waved goodbye and disappeared into his apartment. Hongjoong sat staring at his phone for an embarrassingly long time, Seonghwa's name and number staring back at him, before he pulled away from the complex, his mind racing as he drove off into the night.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
The following week was filled with meaningless text messages and late night phone calls that usually ended when one of them fell asleep. They talked about nothing and everything, smiling and laughing behind their phone screen, free to blush without the embarrassment of the other person seeing.
Hongjoong opened up more about his job, about his coworkers not taking him seriously, about feeling burned out despite how much he used to love writing. Whenever Jin-Ah would text him, Hongjoong would reach out to Seonghwa, finding comfort in the man's reassurances.
Seonghwa would let more details of his personal life seep into the conversations, though he was still a little particular with what he shared. He talked often about his friendship with San, the trouble they got into when they were kids. The amount of Star Wars references and memes that Seonghwa sent often left Hongjoong confused, but he didn't have the heart to tell Seonghwa to stop. There were even a few times that Seonghwa brought up his parents, casually mentioning how Hongjoong could meet them at the Championships.
It was a friendship that was on the verge of growing into something more, yet neither acknowledged it. In fact, Hongjoong refused to think about it, knowing that having feelings for Seonghwa only made things complicated. With his job on the line, Hongjoong couldn't afford to make things complicated.
The second week of going to the ice rink was coming to a close, and when Hongjoong arrived on that particular morning, San's car was missing from the parking lot. That wasn't entirely unusual, so Hongjoong made his way into the rink, expecting the others to arrive not long after him. Ten minutes later, Wooyoung walked through the door and made his way over to where Hongjoong was seated. Seonghwa and San were still absent.
“You didn't happen to see San and Seonghwa pull into the lot when you arrived, did you?” Hongjoong asked Wooyoung when his friend sat down.
“No, I didn't. Did Seonghwa text you to say that they'd be late?”
Hongjoong shook his head, looking down at his phone. Seonghwa had been the one to fall asleep first during their phone call the previous night, but nothing in his voice hinted at something being wrong. Which told Hongjoong that if something happened, it happened this morning before San went to pick Seonghwa up.
Getting worried, Hongjoong opened up his text thread with Seonghwa and began typing a message. Before he could hit send, the door to enter the rink swung open and Hongjoong looked up to find San entering the building. Only Seonghwa wasn't with him.
Trying not to seem too panicked, Hongjoong walked over to meet San, noting that he also had a worried look on his face.
“Hey,” Hongjoong greeted cautiously. “Where's Seonghwa?”
“He's not coming today,” San replied, walking around Hongjoong to continue making his way toward the locker room. “He just needs some rest.”
“Is it his back?”
That stopped San in his tracks and he turned back to Hongjoong, many emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to maintain some composure. Hongjoong wasn't surprised by San's reaction. Ever since Seonghwa had that bad fall, Hongjoong had watched him more intently than before, if such a thing was possible. More times than he could count, Hongjoong caught Seonghwa making a face as he practiced, the same one he made when Yubin had put the pain relief patches on his back, or taking more frequent and much longer water breaks.
Hongjoong didn't know if it was the fall from the previous week or something else, but clearly something was wrong. And even after many phone calls and texts over the past week, Seonghwa still didn't trust Hongjoong with the details. While his main concern was Seonghwa's well-being, Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a little hurt.
“Is there anything I can do?” Hongjoong asked when it was clear San wasn't going to respond to his initial question. Or perhaps San didn't know how to respond. “I just want to help.”
“Why?”
There was so much weight in that three letter word. Hongjoong had no doubt that San simply wanted to protect his friend. While Hongjoong has proven himself trustworthy in the past two weeks, all it would take is one moment of selfishness to completely shatter everything. If he was someone else, San's hesitation would make sense. But breaking Seonghwa's trust was never something that Hongjoong would do, even to save his job.
“Because he's my friend. I care about him, San, and I want to make sure he's okay.”
San walked forward until he was standing directly in front of Hongjoong, looking into Hongjoong's eyes with overwhelming intensity. Hongjoong stared back, never wavering. After a few moments, San gave a quick nod of his head, seemingly satisfied with what he saw in Hongjoong's eyes. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Hongjoong.
“I wasn't quite sure listening to Seonghwa's request was the right choice, so I was planning on talking Yubin into allowing me to skip practice today and go take care of Seonghwa instead. But I think it's time I trust you the way Seonghwa does.” San gestured to the paper in Hongjoong's hand. “That's a list of everything needed to be purchased and brought to Seonghwa's apartment. I've already been given your number, so I'll text you the passcode to get you inside. Just let Seonghwa know that you're on your way.”
Hongjoong had been wrong. Seonghwa did trust him, so much so that he requested that Hongjoong be the one who looked after him. An overwhelming emotion bloomed inside of Hongjoong's chest as he slipped the paper into his pocket and turned to tell Wooyoung he was leaving - only his friend was already standing behind him, a look of understanding on his face.
“Go on,” Wooyoung said with a smile. “Seonghwa needs you.” As Hongjoong ran to grab his belongings and leave the ice rink, Wooyoung shoved his hands into his pockets before glancing up at San. “Well, I guess I'll head out.”
“Really?” San tried to keep his expressions impassive, but he could hear the slight disappointment in his own voice. “I thought you kept showing up to shamelessly flirt with me.”
“We both know you don't like it, so I should leave.”
San hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. “I don't actually mind your company.”
Wooyoung was left speechless as he watched San make his way to the locker room, a dimple deepening in the other man's cheek.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Hongjoong bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as he rode the elevator to the eighth floor, the bags he was holding gripped tightly in his hands. He had sent a text to Seonghwa while he was in the grocery store that he was on his way, receiving a simple “Okay” as a reply. When he exited the elevator and walked to Seonghwa's door, Hongjoong quickly typed in the passcode before letting himself in.
“Seonghwa, it's Hongjoong,” he called out quietly, not wanting to startle Seonghwa as he walked into the apartment.
Hongjoong was met with silence. He placed the bags onto the table in the dining area, taking in the tidiness of the space around him. The contrast to his own apartment was laughable. And while there was an order in which Seonghwa kept everything, there was still a cozy, lived-in feel to the apartment.
Leaving the groceries inside the bags, Hongjoong walked further into the apartment until he came to Seonghwa's bedroom. Although the door was partially opened, Hongjoong still knocked gently before poking his head inside. His eyes immediately fell upon Seonghwa on the bed, who was lying on his side facing the door, fast asleep. Hongjoong noticed a pillow between Seonghwa's knees, the blanket barely covering the man's body.
Letting himself into the room, Hongjoong quietly walked over to the edge of Seonghwa's bed. Even in his sleep, Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, signifying that not even being unconscious protected him from pain.
Hongjoong hated it. Hated seeing Seonghwa this way. It wasn't right. He should be gliding across the ice, where he shined, where he belonged. Unable to stop himself, Hongjoong reached out to brush the hair out of Seonghwa's eyes, letting his hand cup Seonghwa's cheek for a moment. It was probably just his imagination, but Hongjoong could have sworn Seonghwa's face relaxed just a little at the feeling of Hongjoong's touch. If only it were that simple to take away Seonghwa's pain.
After allowing himself another moment to caress Seonghwa's skin, Hongjoong grabbed the blanket and pulled it over Seonghwa's body, covering him properly. Then he walked back into the dining area to prepare a meal with the ingredients that he purchased. Hongjoong wasn't the best cook, but he took his time, preparing the miyeok-guk and salmon as Seonghwa slept.
It wasn't until Hongjoong was placing the cooked salmon onto a plate that he heard a gentle voice call for him from the other room.
“Hongjoong?”
Quickly turning off the stove and removing the hot skillet from the burner, Hongjoong all but ran to Seonghwa's bedroom door, letting himself into the room. Seonghwa was still lying down, but the pain wasn't as prominent on his features. At the sight of Hongjoong, a small smile formed on Seonghwa's lips.
“You're here,” Seonghwa whispered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Hongjoong returned Seonghwa's smile as he walked across the room, kneeling next to the bed. “You asked for me to come.”
“I know, I just… San didn't look too pleased with my request, so I was a little worried he wouldn't actually send you here.”
“Well, I'm here. And I made you some food.”
“I know. The smell woke me up.”
“Because it smells good, right?”
Seonghwa chuckled lightly. “Yes, Hongjoong. It smells good.”
Beaming with pride, Hongjoong rose to his feet. “I'll bring you some.”
“I can eat at the dining table.”
“Nope, you're going to stay right there. I won't hear any protests, Seonghwa. Now let me help you sit up so that you can eat.”
“Okay,” Seonghwa said with a nod. “Prop the pillows behind my back to support my weight.”
Hongjoong sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down so that Seonghwa could wrap his arms around his shoulders. Their cheeks brushed gently against each other and Hongjoong could feel Seonghwa's breath on his neck as he slowly pulled Seonghwa up to a seated position. Once the pillows were in place, Seonghwa let go of Hongjoong and relaxed into the pillows.
“Are you comfortable?” Hongjoong asked, his left hand still resting on Seonghwa's waist.
“As comfortable as I can be right now.”
“Good. I'll be back with some food.”
When Hongjoong returned, he was carrying a tray holding the salmon and bowl of miyeok-guk, gently placing it on Seonghwa's lap.
“You made enough for both of us, right?” Seonghwa asked as he picked up the spoon for the soup.
“The food is for you, Seonghwa.”
“Hongjoong.”
The spoon clanked against the tray as Seonghwa stared pointedly at Hongjoong, his expression unwavering.
“You're not going to eat until I grab my own serving, are you?”
“No. Now hurry up, I'm hungry.”
Hongjoong's laugh echoed off the walls as he left the room to grab himself some food. Back in Seonghwa's room, Hongjoong sat on the floor next to Seonghwa and the two men began eating. Hongjoong watched Seonghwa the entire time, watching for any sign of acute pain on his face. At the moment, Seonghwa simply looked tired, moving slowly as he ate.
“Do you want some more?” Hongjoong asked once both of their plates and bowls were empty.
“Not at the moment. But I would like you to bring some pain relief patches in here.”
“Of course.”
After setting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, Hongjoong grabbed the patches and walked back into Seonghwa's room.
“How many are you going to need to use?”
“We can start with three.” Hongjoong began opening the box, but Seonghwa reached out to cover Hongjoong's hand with his own, stopping him. “But first, there's something I need to tell you.”
Confused, Hongjoong sat on the edge of Seonghwa's bed. “What is it?”
“It's about what happened when I was fifteen, about why I disappeared for ten years.”
“Seonghwa, you don't have to tell me. You don't owe me anything.”
Staring down at their hands, Seonghwa slowly intertwined his fingers with Hongjoong's, holding on to the other man like an anchor.
“I know I don't, but this is why I wanted you here with me today instead of San. I want you to know.” Taking in a deep breath, Seonghwa let the words fall from his lips. “San and I always used to take the bus together to and from practice when we were younger. It was easier than having to rely on one of our parents, and we only lived a couple of streets from each other. That day was different. San woke up sick, so it was just me during practice. Our skating coach didn't like the idea of me traveling home alone and insisted on driving me himself.”
Tears were already beginning to glaze over Seonghwa's eyes and without jolting the bed too much, Hongjoong scooted closer to Seonghwa and began caressing his thumb against Seonghwa's skin.
“Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.”
Seonghwa nodded, one tear breaking free. “There had been a lot of snow that week, so the roads weren't in the best condition. He hit a patch of ice and lost control. The oncoming car didn't have time to swerve out of the way and they collided. I– I don't remember much from that moment. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital, unable to move.”
“What?”
“The injury to my back was severe, the doctors were a little shocked that I even survived, especially since my coach and the other driver didn't make it.”
Letting go of Hongjoong's hand, Seonghwa scooted forward on the bed and began unbuttoning his pajama shirt. He shrugged it off of his shoulders and began to twist so that Hongjoong had a better view of his back. Hongjoong couldn't help but gasp as he stared at the jagged white scar stretching from below Seonghwa's pajama pants to the top of his shoulder blades.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong whispered as he lightly traced his fingertips over the scar, the coolness of his touch sending goosebumps across Seonghwa's warm skin.
“The doctors informed me and my family that walking again wouldn't be possible,” Seonghwa continued as he tried not to be overwhelmed by Hongjoong's touch as the other man began putting the patches on Seonghwa's back. “There was a part of me that was ready to accept that fate. I was still alive and breathing. Adjusting to a life without the use of my legs would be hard, but I was determined to make the most of it. But there was another part of me that felt like there was still unfinished business to take care of. I couldn't let go of the thought that I was still meant to skate, even if for a moment. After considering my options, I was sent to a physical rehabilitation center in Switzerland, where I spent five very long, very painful years. And then one day, I stood up from my wheelchair and took my first step.”
“How long until you put on a pair of skates?”
“That took another three years. I was wobbly at first, but skating has always felt like breathing to me, so it wasn't long until I was gliding across the ice like I used to. But all the physical therapy in the world couldn't stop the pain. I was warned that would be the case. My body was too badly broken for there not to be permanent damage.”
“You have chronic pain.”
Seonghwa nodded. “It comes and goes unpredictably, always with different levels of pain. The flare-ups can last a few minutes or several hours. This morning was bad.”
“Have these flare-ups happened while you were competing?”
“More than once, actually. If you saw me crying in any of those clips you watched of me a few weeks ago, I guarantee it wasn't from overwhelming joy.”
Hongjoong let his hands linger on Seonghwa's skin for a few more moments before grabbing Seonghwa's discarded shirt, letting out a sigh. He helped Seonghwa put his shirt back on, though Seonghwa didn't bother with the buttons. When he sat properly against his pillows again, Seonghwa saw the furrow in Hongjoong's brow.
“Why?” Hongjoong eventually asked. “Why continue to do something that causes you so much pain?”
“I told you. Skating and I have unfinished business. And I never planned to do it for long anyways. There's a likelihood that my paralysis, whether partial or in full, will come back as I age. I'll keep going for a couple of more years, or until I win gold. After that, I'll find a new way to live, a new passion.”
This time, it was Hongjoong who reached out his hand first, intertwining their fingers together. He felt overwhelmed by what Seonghwa had just told him, almost undeserving of this part of Seonghwa that was gifted to him. Yet there was a desire to cradle it to his chest, protecting it with everything he had.
“What would you have done if the rehabilitation didn't work?”
“I'm not entirely sure, but I would have figured something out. Disability doesn't end a person's life, it just alters it a bit.”
Hongjoong glanced around Seonghwa's room, his eyes falling upon the clear cabinet in the corner holding several Star Wars Lego sets and memorabilia. A smile tugged at his lips as he turned back to Seonghwa.
“Is there a career in collecting Star Wars legos?”
Seonghwa chuckled. “No, but there should be. And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Was it always sports journalism that you wanted to get into, or was it just writing in general?”
“I think my lack of athleticism has always made me fascinated with sports, but lately? I don't know. Having you read my original articles has given me a lot to think about.”
Seonghwa gently squeezed Hongjoong's hand and smiled at him warmly. “Why don't we postpone thinking for another day and simply enjoy each other's company?”
“What did you have in mind?”
After cleaning up the dishes and tidying up the kitchen, Hongjoong found himself sitting next to Seonghwa on his bed, staring at the laptop in Seonghwa's lap. The way Seonghwa's eyes got big and lit up when suggesting that he show Hongjoong one of the Star Wars films was impossible to ignore, and Hongjoong didn't have the heart to say no. He was slightly intrigued at the idea of watching one, though Hongjoong knew that was mainly because Seonghwa was such a big fan.
As the movie played, Seonghwa would quietly mimic the sounds of the lightsabers and androids and spaceships, making Hongjoong smile. He found himself paying more attention to Seonghwa than the movie. But as time went on, Hongjoong felt exhaustion start to take over, and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open.
Just as Padmé confessed her love to Anakin before being sent into the arena for execution, Seonghwa felt a sudden weight fall onto his shoulder and glanced down to find Hongjoong leaning against him, eyes fallen shut. Closing the laptop and setting it aside, Seonghwa carefully adjusted Hongjoong's head so that he was more comfortable on Seonghwa's shoulder. They weren't holding hands anymore, but their fingers constantly brushed against each other, sending a pleasant chill through Seonghwa's skin. Letting his own eyes shut, Seonghwa leaned his cheek against the top of Hongjoong's head and drifted off to the sound of Hongjoong's soft rhythmic breathing.
Hongjoong wasn't sure how much time had come and gone when he finally opened his eyes again, finding himself fully leaning into Seonghwa.
“Oh,” Hongjoong gasped as he slowly sat up, his movements causing Seonghwa to wake up as well. “I'm sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“I didn't make it through the movie, and…” Hongjoong's cheeks grew warm as he scooted away from Seonghwa. “You should have woken me up. I probably made you very uncomfortable.”
“You didn't, though.”
More heat, this time radiating through Hongjoong's entire body. Quickly yet carefully, Hongjoong climbed off of Seonghwa's bed, hoping that some space would help him think properly. Before either could say anything, a text notification chimed from Hongjoong's phone.
Dread filled his stomach as he looked at the message, already knowing what it'd say. Jin-Ah was demanding that Hongjoong come into the office to discuss the article. There was no getting around this any more. Hongjoong was going to have to come clean about not landing the exclusive with Seonghwa. He was as good as fired.
“Hey,” Seonghwa said as he reached out to grab Hongjoong's hand, sensing the tension weighing on his shoulders. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing, it's just Jin-Ah.”
“That's not nothing.”
“You don't have to worry about me, Seonghwa. Okay? Allowing your body to recover so that you can excel at the World Championships next week is what's important.”
“But I do worry about you, Hongjoong. That's what happens when you…” Seonghwa's words trailed off as he looked down at their intertwined hands, his heart fluttering erratically as he searched for the right thing to say. “I'm not the only one who feels it, right? This thing that has been growing between us over the past two weeks? Or am I simply imagining it?”
“No. No, you're not imagining it. But–”
“I won't push. I know that your job makes this complicated, I just… I'm happy to know it's not all in my head.”
The hopeful look in Seonghwa's eyes wrapped around Hongjoong's heart, desperately wanting to pull him closer. Hongjoong could feel his resolve waning as his gaze dropped to Seonghwa's lips for a brief moment, the longing to discover how soft they were, what they tasted like was powerful.
But Hongjoong took a step back, allowing their hands to fall from each other's grasp. He didn't like how empty he felt by the action.
“How's your pain now?”
“It's still there, but more numb than piercing. I should be okay to be left alone.”
“I don't mind staying a little longer.”
Seonghwa smiled softly at Hongjoong. “You've already done so much for me today. Go home. It seems like you have things to take care of.”
“If you need anything, call me.”
“I will. Thank you for coming.”
With a small wave goodbye, Hongjoong walked out of Seonghwa's room and out of the apartment. He was already typing out a message as he waited for the elevator, his mind frazzled and his heart pounding inside of his chest.
Seonghwa was correct, Hongjoong did have things he needed to take care of. More than anything, he needed Wooyoung's guidance. He just hoped his friend had the answer he was looking for.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Hongjoong was pacing around his apartment, waiting for Wooyoung. He had received three more texts from Jin-Ah since that first one in Seonghwa's apartment, each one sounding more agitated than the previous one. Knowing Jin-Ah, she'd still be at the office until around eight that evening. It was only four, so there was still plenty of time to meet with her. But Hongjoong couldn't do that, not yet. He needed to speak with Wooyoung first.
A knock rapped against his door just as Hongjoong began typing out a new message and he quickly opened the door to let Wooyoung inside.
“What's the emergency?” Wooyoung asked as he walked over to the couch and sat down. “You seem panicked.”
“I like Seonghwa.”
There was a moment of silence before Wooyoung started laughing, loud and obnoxious, falling onto his side on the couch.
“Really? You've just now figured that out? Hongjoong, I could have told you that a while ago.”
“No, you don't understand, Wooyoung. I can't feel this way.”
“Why not?”
“It's highly unprofessional. I approached him with the intention of writing an article. It doesn't matter that the article isn't going to happen, my boss knows I've been in contact with Seonghwa. If Jin-Ah found out… I wouldn't be the only one facing backlash.”
Wooyoung frowned as he sat up straight again. “You think Jin-Ah would get someone to write something malicious against Seonghwa?”
“In retaliation for not getting the exclusive I promised? I have no doubt she'd stoop that low.”
“How is that professional?”
“It's not, but it doesn't matter. I can't do that to Seonghwa, not when he's so close to winning gold.”
Wooyoung gestured to the spot on the couch next to him and Hongjoong sat down without hesitation. For a while, the two men sat in silence.
“There's only one solution, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung eventually said. “You have to eliminate the issue.”
Hongjoong's face fell. “You think I should stop interacting with Seonghwa?”
“No. I think you should quit working at that damn column.”
Quit? He thinks Hongjoong should quit?
“Wooyoung, are you crazy? I can't just–”
“Tell me something, Hongjoong, and be completely honest about it. Do you even enjoy working at that place?”
“I… no.”
It was a hard truth, but an honest one. Hongjoong had been so excited when he had been hired five years ago, excited to use his words to tell other people's stories. But over time, his passion began to dwindle, his confidence shaken. He hadn't even fully realized what had happened until Seonghwa read his original articles. Could he really just… quit?
Was that really the solution to everything? Hongjoong had spent the last two weeks convinced that he was going to be fired once Jin-Ah found out the truth. But what if he didn't wait? What if Hongjoong was the one who ended things?
It would be one hell of a risk, one that might not pan out. But what if it did? There might just be a way to break free of Jin-Ah's clutches and still hold tight to what he deeply cared for. Wasn't his happiness worth it?
Hongjoong looked down at his hands, the phantom touch of Seonghwa's grasp still lingering there. A touch that felt natural, that felt right. A touch that he was wrong for even thinking of letting go of.
As Hongjoong turned back to Wooyoung, a tiny smile crept at the corner of his mouth.
“If I were to quit, how do you suggest I go about it?”
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
The World Championships take place over a four day period, Wednesday to Saturday. Given the severity of his recent flare-up, Seonghwa decided to take the Sunday before the Championships off as well, knowing it was best not to push himself too hard. That only left him two days to practice, with the second day being at the Mokdong ice rink along with the other competitors.
Because of this, Yubin instructed Seonghwa to tell Hongjoong to stay away from the rink. She didn't want Seonghwa to have any sort of distractions. Seonghwa knew his coach was just looking out for him, but she didn't understand that not having Hongjoong there was an even bigger distraction for Seonghwa. He was so used to Hongjoong's presence that whenever Seonghwa looked over to where Hongjoong usually sat and he wasn't there, an emptiness filled Seonghwa's chest.
But even if Yubin hadn't made that specific instruction, Seonghwa knew that Hongjoong wouldn't have come anyway. Seonghwa received a text from Hongjoong early Sunday morning that he was going to be busy sorting out a few things, so he wouldn't be seeing Seonghwa until the Championships. He didn't specify why, which Seonghwa tried not to fixate on. Tried and failed.
Hongjoong had agreed with Seonghwa that something was growing between them, but he never said that he wanted it to continue. And it's clear Hongjoong's job would be a difficult hurdle for them. They've only known each other for two weeks. If Hongjoong was forced to choose between his career and Seonghwa, Seonghwa had no reason to believe that he would be Hongjoong's choice. Whatever Hongjoong was sorting out, Seonghwa just hoped it wouldn't take Hongjoong away from him.
“Seonghwa?” Startled, Seonghwa looked up from where he sat on the bench to see San standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I've been trying to get your attention for a couple of minutes. What has you so distracted?”
“I'm not–”
“Yes, you are.” San looked around the rink and suddenly understood. “Where's Hongjoong?”
“Busy. He's taking care of a few things.”
“Okay. Then why do you look so worried?” San's eyes widened. “Did you finally tell him how you feel?”
Seonghwa blushed. “Not exactly, but it was implied.”
“And what? You're worried you've scared him off?” San chuckled lightly as he sat down and wrapped his arm around Seonghwa's shoulder. “Do you honestly not see the way that man looks at you? Seonghwa, trust me. Hongjoong is not going anywhere. I don't know what's keeping him busy, but it's not to avoid you.”
“I hope you're right.” Releasing a sigh, Seonghwa rose to his feet and stepped back out on the ice. “We should continue practicing so that neither of them are disappointed in our performances at the Championships.”
“Neither of them?”
Seonghwa glanced over his shoulder to give San a knowing look. “Are you trying to say that you're not practicing hard so that you can impress Wooyoung even a little? I thought we were past the denial stage?”
San opened his mouth to make a snarky comeback, but nothing came out. Embarrassed, San sped away from Seonghwa, but not fast enough to keep Seonghwa from seeing the tips of his ears turn red, a clear sign that San was more smitten than he was letting on.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“That's a lot of people,” San mumbled as he dropped his duffle bag onto the bench and sat down. His eyes scanned the crowd as people filed back into the rink, having left during the two hour gap between women's short skate and pairs short skate. “Was it this way last year?”
Seonghwa placed a comforting hand on San's shoulder. “Yes, San. But perhaps this year is different because of someone who's going to be in the audience.”
“You say that as if you haven't been looking for Hongjoong in the crowd since we arrived.”
Seonghwa couldn't argue with that, because that is exactly what he had been doing. They hadn't spoken much since that day at Seonghwa's apartment, so naturally Seonghwa felt anxious to see Hongjoong again.
He promised he would be here, Seonghwa reminded himself before turning back to San. “Do you want me to get you anything?”
“I can take care of him, Seonghwa,” Yubin said as she handed San a water bottle. “All you need to do today is relax and cheer on San and Na-Ri. Now, go find your seat.”
Seonghwa nodded before wrapping San in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head. “You're going to be amazing.”
“Thanks.”
As Seonghwa walked toward the section of seats that were reserved for skaters competing on later days, he glanced up into the crowd once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong. But San was right, there were a lot of people gathered in the rink. It would probably be faster to text Hongjoong than looking around the crowd.
Before Seonghwa could pull out his phone, a flash of blonde hair caught his attention and he turned to find Wooyoung walking toward him.
“Hi,” Wooyoung said once he reached Seonghwa. “Wow, this place is already packed. San must be nervous.”
Seonghwa chuckled. “Good thing he's not around to hear you say that or you'd be back to square one with him.”
A mischievous glint flickered across Wooyoung's eyes. “So my charms are working?”
“Maybe a little.” Seonghwa looked behind Wooyoung, fully expecting to see Hongjoong walking up to them. “Is Hongjoong on his way?”
“Did he not text you this morning?” When Seonghwa shook his head, Wooyoung groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Time must have gotten away from him. He's finalizing the thing he's been taking care of over the past few days. I can't share with you what it is, but I promise you it's good.”
“Will everything be sorted out by tomorrow?”
Seonghwa was starting to picture looking up into the crowd as he glided across the ice the following day, only to not see Hongjoong there, and he didn't like the way it made him feel. Wooyoung noticed the solemn expression on Seonghwa's face and gently wrapped an arm over his shoulder.
“He'll be here tomorrow, trust me. There's nothing that will keep that man from watching you skate.”
Heat rose in Seonghwa's cheeks as he nodded his head. “Okay, good.”
“I was just on my way to get a drink before heading to my seat. Want to join me? You can also take Hongjoong's seat next to me, since it'll be empty tonight.”
“Yes to both.”
“Awesome!”
The lines at the concession stands were a little long, but neither Wooyoung or Seonghwa cared too much, comfortable in each other's company. It was easy for Seonghwa to understand why Hongjoong was friends with someone like Wooyoung. He was playful and vibrant, the kind of lively personality that was infectious. If San didn't make a move soon, Seonghwa was going to be disappointed.
As they moved slowly to the front of the line, something caught Wooyoung's attention and he let out an annoyed groan.
“Of course that bastard would be here.”
“What?”
Not caring about being subtle, Wooyoung tilted his head toward a group of journalists gathered to their left, standing closer to the entrance that led back into the rink. Specifically toward the tall man with short black hair that seemed to have a permanent smug look on his face.
“That's Hwang Sehun. He was one of Hongjoong's coworkers.”
Seonghwa recognized the name immediately and his hands balled into fists. “That's the guy who's always talking down to Hongjoong? The one who said Hongjoong wasn't good enough to get an exclusive from me?”
“The very one.”
It was their turn to order some drinks, and while Seonghwa hadn't planned on getting anything when he first joined Wooyoung, he now ordered a beer and a corn dog with extra ketchup. He couldn't believe what he was planning on doing, but it also felt like the only logical thing to do.
“How capable are you of filming something discreetly?” Seonghwa asked as the two of them began walking out of the concessions area, toward the group of journalists.
“Uh, pretty capable. Why?”
“I have a feeling Hongjoong might enjoy seeing this.”
Wooyoung didn't ask for further explanation, just took out his phone and began recording. Seonghwa marched forward with determination, careful to swerve around the cluster of people flowing in and out of the concessions area before he reached Sehun's group. Then with perfect timing, Seonghwa smacked right into Sehun, his beer soaking the front of the man's suit.
“What the fuck?!” Sehun exclaimed as he stumbled back, his face a darker shade of red than Seonghwa had ever seen.
“Oh my god,” Seonghwa stuttered as he wiped at the splatters of ketchup staining Sehun's white shirt, making the mess worse. “I am so sorry.”
“Save your fucking apologies, look at what you've done!” Sehun grabbed the napkins that Seonghwa was holding and tried to clean himself off. “I have important interviews to secure tonight, I don't have time to head home and change.” The man's eyes barely glanced in Seonghwa's direction before tossing the used napkins at his face. “I hope you know that I expect you to pay for my dry cleaning. This is my favorite work suit.”
One of the women who was standing next to Sehun seemed to recognize Seonghwa, because her eyes went wide and she began tugging on Sehun's sleeve.
“Uh, Sehun,” the woman whispered, her eyes still on Seonghwa. “Perhaps you should let it go.”
“Why the fuck would I do that? This jackass is the one who ruined my goddamn suit! He's paying for the bill.”
“But…”
“This could not have happened at a worse time. I was going to approach Park Seonghwa later tonight to get that exclusive that Hongjoong failed to secure.”
“Were you now?” Seonghwa's voice was calm, yet the venom in his tone was easy for Wooyoung to hear, and the man struggled not to laugh as he continued recording.
Sehun finally turned toward Seonghwa, looking at him with nothing but disgust. Seonghwa waited, waited for the moment Sehun recognized him. It didn't happen.
“Yes, I was. Trying to talk to him tomorrow when he's actually set to compete will be impossible, but now I don't have a choice, thanks to you.”
Seonghwa looked Sehun up and down, an amused smirk on his face. “I doubt you'll be able to land that exclusive.”
The rest of the journalists had all recognized Seonghwa by now, and were slowly distancing themselves from Sehun, suddenly embarrassed to be in his presence. Seonghwa couldn't blame them. Sehun noticed none of this and puffed out his chest as he glared at Seonghwa.
“Oh? And why would you think that?”
“First reason? You lack any sort of natural charm to land an exclusive like that.” Sehun scoffed, but Seonghwa continued on. “Second reason? Your arrogance tells me that you've worked for nothing in your life. I bet whatever column you work for only hired you because mommy or daddy made a phone call.”
“Why you little–”
Seonghwa held up his hand, cutting Sehun off. “And the third reason? You don't even know the face of the person you're trying to land an interview with. Otherwise you would have shut up a long time ago.”
It took a few moments for Seonghwa's words to sink in, and when they did, Sehun's face turned as white as a ghost, his mouth opening and closing in panic. He looked around, hoping someone would help him out of this mess, but the other journalists had already walked off. What made the situation even more humiliating for Sehun was that a small crowd had noticed the confrontation happening, and several people had their phones out to record, their commentary loud enough for Sehun and Seonghwa to hear.
“Oh my god, isn't that Park Seonghwa?”
“Was that journalist just cussing at him?”
“Wow, that's super unprofessional. Someone should tell his boss.”
“Forget his boss. Someone should tell security so that he gets escorted off the premises. An asshole like that shouldn't be near these skaters.”
Satisfied with the humiliated look on Sehun's face, Seonghwa began walking off, calling back, “Get in contact with my coach if you still wish for me to pay for your dry cleaning,” as he went. Wooyoung hurried after Seonghwa, getting one last close-up of Sehun's face before turning off his camera.
“I fucking love you,” Wooyoung declared as he nudged Seonghwa's shoulder.
“Someone needed to do it.”
“Exactly, which makes you one of my favorite people. I could kiss your cheek right now.”
Seonghwa chuckled. “I don't think we've reached that stage of our friendship quite yet.”
“But we will, and then I will shower you with my affection.” Once they made it to their seats, Wooyoung quickly sent the video of Sehun being humiliated to Hongjoong before taking a long swig of his beer, his eyes searching the assigned area where skaters were waiting to compete. A soft smile formed on his lips when he finally found San. “How many pairs will we be watching before we get to San?”
“There's twenty-three pairs competing in the short skate, and I believe San and Na-Ri have the eighteenth slot. Typically those who rank in the bottom three or four don't participate in the free skate.”
“How good do they have to be today to win the competition?”
“If they want to medal tomorrow, they need to rank no lower than fifth today, though ranking higher would give them a better chance at winning gold. It really depends on how many points divide each rank. A lot goes into scoring, and having a misstep in the short skate doesn't necessarily take you out of the running. Someone who ranked higher than you can always do poorly in their free skate.”
Wooyoung is silent for a moment, his eyes watching San in the distance as he tapped his fingers against his knee. “Is he nervous?”
“We all get nervous before we step on the ice. I'm sure you get nervous every time you show someone a new dance routine. But we let those nerves fuel us because we love what we do. San and Na-Ri have been skating partners for five years. There's a lot of trust between them, along with some intense skills. I have no doubt their routines over the next two days will be amazing.”
And of course, Seonghwa was right. San and Na-Ri were absolutely incredible. When they glided onto the ice later that night, Wooyoung leaned forward in his seat, his eyes transfixed on the pair. Most of the men skating had lean figures similar to Seonghwa, except for San. One would think that his broad shoulders and muscular form would shatter the illusion of a graceful skater, but they didn't.
San moved with a fluidity that was captivating, gliding around the ice with Na-Ri at his side, each spin and lift and jump timed to perfection. By the time their routine had finished, most of the audience was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Wooyoung and Seonghwa were among those cheering, a look of pride on Seonghwa's face and a look of awe on Wooyoung's.
The judge's scores were announced, placing San and Na-Ri in third place.
“Third place is good,” Seonghwa assured when he saw the frown on Wooyoung's lips.
“They deserve first, that was perfect.”
“You and I might be a little biased.”
“That doesn't make me wrong.”
The last five pairs scored well, but not enough to bump San and Na-Ri from third place. Seonghwa was fairly confident they could win gold after the free skate. He just hoped whatever luck that San was receiving would be granted to him when he competed the next morning.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Hongjoong was fidgeting as he and Wooyoung stood in line, waiting for the doors to officially open. The movement was driving Wooyoung nuts, and he had to place a hand on Hongjoong's shoulder several times to keep the man still.
“Why are you so nervous, Hongjoong? It's not like you're the one who's competing.”
“I know, I'm just nervous for Seonghwa.”
Five days didn't seem like enough time for Seonghwa's body to recover from his most recent flare-up, especially with two of those days being filled with practice. But Seonghwa knew his body best, and if he felt capable of competing then Hongjoong would cheer him on.
Wooyoung wrapped Hongjoong in an obnoxious hug. “Are you nervous about him competing or about telling him what you've been up to the past few days?”
Hongjoong hushed Wooyoung, looking around to make sure no one was listening. He didn't want to spread rumors before anything even happened.
“I don't plan on telling him until the Championships are over. He needs to stay focused.”
“I understand that, but you know he's been curious. You've left him with nothing to go on, except that it's good news.”
“And it is. But skating comes first.”
The doors finally opened and the crowd slowly made their way inside. Coffee was offered to those who had come early to watch the practice before the men's free skate began at eleven. Wooyoung practically had to guide Hongjoong to their seats because the older of the two kept trying to catch a glimpse of Seonghwa, but all of the skaters seemed to still be in the locker rooms.
“Will you calm down, lover boy? You'll see him soon enough.”
“I will kill you,” Hongjoong muttered as heat filled his cheeks.
Inside the locker room, Seonghwa was stretching out his limbs, trying to ignore the slight ache beneath his right shoulder blade. Now was not the time for a flare-up.
“Hey,” San said as he walked into the room, wearing comfortable jeans and a fluffy white sweater. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just slept wrong.”
San's eyes narrowed with concern. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
After a moment, San nodded his head, accepting Seonghwa's answer.
“Okay. I'll be sitting with Na-Ri in the reserved section if you need anything. Though I have a feeling your mom is already planning ahead in case something happens.”
“Are my parents already here?”
“Seated right next to my mom and dad. Oh, and Hongjoong's here.”
“He is?”
With only a playful smirk as a reply, San walked out of the locker room, leaving Seonghwa to continue lacing up his skates alone. As tempted as he was to rush, Seonghwa knew having loose skates would be a huge mistake.
After placing his duffle bag into his locker, Seonghwa walked out into the rink and over to the bench where Yubin was waiting for him. He looked across the ice to where he had sat with Wooyoung the night before, immediately finding Hongjoong next to his friend. They were laughing about something, off in their own world. It was like a sense of peace washed over Seonghwa upon seeing Hongjoong, all the anxiety and aches he was beginning to feel evaporating into nothing.
“What's with the goofy smile?” Yubin asked before following Seonghwa's gaze to where Hongjoong was sitting, and then proceeded to sigh dramatically. “Of course that's the reason. You are hardly being subtle, my friend.”
“Should I be?”
“If you're wanting to keep the other pesky journalists away from you, then yes. At least for a couple more days, then you can be as obvious as you want. Now get out on the ice. Your assigned group has already begun practicing and you only have six minutes.”
Seonghwa chuckled as he took off his blade guards, setting them on the bench before gliding toward the other skaters to join in practice. Hongjoong's attention turned to him immediately, as if he could sense the moment Seonghwa's blades touched the ice. A not-so-subtle smile appeared on both of their faces when they made eye contact, and it took everything in Seonghwa not to raise his hand and wave. They both settled for a tiny nod before Seonghwa refocused on practicing.
As he practiced his more simpler spins and jumps, Seonghwa caught sight of his mom and dad, as well as San's parents, waving at him, a look of pride on their faces. It had taken time for his parents, especially his mom, to accept his need to continue skating, to see this dream through. Seonghwa always understood their hesitation, but there was no changing his mind. Once they realized that, there was nothing left for them to do except cheer him on.
When his group's six minutes were up, Seonghwa returned to his spot on the bench and sat down with a huff, slipping the blade guards back on. As the next group began their final practice, Seonghwa wasn't surprised to see his mom approaching him, an extra water bottle in her hand. She did this during every competition.
“My sweet boy,” she cooed, setting the water bottle onto the bench before embracing Seonghwa. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Which was the truth. The pain that had started to build up back in the locker room seemed to have been a momentary blip. “I'm taking care of myself, Ma. I promise.”
Leaning back, Mrs. Park placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before sitting down next to him.
“I believe you. Now, where's this man you've told me about? Is he here yet?”
Seonghwa's cheeks flushed as he turned slightly to look at Hongjoong, quickly pointing in his direction.
“He's the brunette with glasses sitting beside the guy with platinum blonde hair.”
Mrs. Park squinted for a moment before her eyes widened and a pleased smile spread across her face.
“Oh, Seonghwa. He's so handsome. You've done well.”
“We're just friends, Ma. I haven't done anything yet.”
His mom patted his cheek affectionately. “But you will, and that makes me happy. You deserve to be happy, Seonghwa.”
She left soon after that, and Seonghwa spent the next couple of hours going over his routine in his head while the other competitors skated. He was slated to be the twenty-ninth out of thirty-four men competing in the short skate. Plenty of time to calm his nerves, or get completely overtaken by them.
Whenever Seonghwa felt himself slipping, feeling like it all was too much, he looked across the ice and stared at Hongjoong, finding comfort in the man's presence. There were times Seonghwa swore that their eyes met, a look of warm reassurance staring back at him. He could feel his confidence rising, so much so that when he stepped out on the ice to complete his routine, Seonghwa was certain things would proceed perfectly.
And for the majority of those two minutes and forty seconds, Seonghwa was perfect. Every spin, every jump, every move he made was elegant and flawless. A rush of joy surged through Seonghwa, pushing him forward as he prepared for the final jump of his routine.
His takeoff for the triple axel was seamless, but he brought his foot down too soon, the blade catching the ice wrong and sending him crashing down. Seonghwa's right hip hit the ice first, followed by his shoulder, a sharp pain radiating through his entire body.
The entire room filled with gasps, including a tiny cry of pain that left his own lips. But Seonghwa didn't have time for pain or tears or self-pity. Within seconds of him smacking into the ice, Seonghwa rose to his feet as gracefully as he could and finished his routine.
He gave his customary bow when the music stopped, his eyes searching the crowd. Seonghwa couldn't see his parents, but they weren't who he was searching for. When his eyes met Hongjoong's gaze, the tears finally started to fall. Hongjoong looked like he was seconds away from rushing for the ice and carrying Seonghwa off himself. For a moment, Seonghwa wished that he would do exactly that.
Gliding back over to the edge of the rink, Seonghwa was immediately embraced by Yubin, who guided him over to the designated area to await his scores. Seonghwa didn't expect much. Sure, his routine had been perfect up until that fall, but falling on a triple axel was not a good look. Especially when he had landed so many during the regular season.
When his final score was announced, Seonghwa's heart dropped despite not being surprised. 89.63. That score ranked him eighth, but there were still competitors that needed to skate. The current top spot scored 101.47. Even if his routine was perfect on Saturday, his odds of ranking in the top three didn't look very promising.
That didn't stop Yubin from trying to cheer Seonghwa up as she led him back to the bench to see the medic. “It's not over yet, Seonghwa.”
“I know.”
To no one's surprise, Seonghwa's parents were already waiting at his designated bench with the medic, a look of horror on his mom's face.
“Seonghwa, my sweet boy, how bad is it?”
Now that he was sitting down and his adrenaline was fading, the excruciating pain tearing into his body was impossible to ignore. He opened his mouth to reply, but only a staggered cry escaped his lips as the medic gently pressed a hand to his hip.
“Should we take him to the hospital?” Seonghwa's father asked.
“No,” Seonghwa managed to say, though it was barely a whisper.
“Seonghwa, son, I think it's best to let the medic decide.”
The medic sighed. “Luckily I don't feel anything broken, so going to the hospital is up to Seonghwa. But I do suggest going home and remaining bedridden until the last possible moment before competing on Saturday.”
Seonghwa shook his head. “I can't leave. San still has to compete tonight and I can't miss it.”
“Yes, you can,” said a voice behind Seonghwa's parents and they parted to let San walk forward.
“San…”
“Listen to me, Seonghwa. I need you to go home. Your health is more important than me skating.”
“But I want to see you win.”
“I know you do.” San leaned down and pressed a kiss to Seonghwa's forehead. “But I don't want you here when you're in this much pain. Go home, rest your body, and then show up on Saturday to show everyone here how fucking amazing you are.”
Despite the pain, Seonghwa let out a light chuckle, wrapping San in a warm hug. “I better be receiving a photo of you and Na-Ri holding gold medals tonight.”
“You can count on it.”
Seonghwa was about to make a request to see Hongjoong before his parents took him home when there was a slight ruckus at the edge of the rink.
“Excuse me, sir, but only skaters and their families are allowed back here,” a man said, and Seonghwa tilted his head to see Hongjoong being blocked by a security guard.
“It's okay,” Seonghwa called out, waving away the security guard's concern. “He's with us.”
The security guard eyed Hongjoong for another moment before letting him pass, and Hongjoong immediately knelt down in front of Seonghwa.
“What do you need from me?”
Seonghwa's heart melted as he reached out for Hongjoong's hand, ignoring the looks he was getting from everyone around him.
“I'm going to be taken care of, so try not to worry too much. All I ask from you right now is to cheer on San for the both of us.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. Then I'll see you Saturday.”
Seonghwa held onto Hongjoong's hand until the last possible moment as his parents helped him to his feet, and they began walking toward the back exit of the rink. Every step sent a new wave of pain up his back, but Seonghwa gritted his teeth and continued walking. This wasn't how his dream was going to end. Not if he could help it.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
The next few hours were torture. San did his best to clear his mind, focusing only on the free skate he and Na-Ri needed to perform, but he was finding it difficult. It had been so long since he'd seen Seonghwa in that type of pain, and it really worried him.
When Wooyoung suggested that the three of them leave to go get something to eat after Seonghwa left, San and Hongjoong didn't protest. It was obvious to San that Wooyoung was trying his best to lighten the mood, and while it wasn't necessarily working, San appreciated the effort.
Now he was sitting on the bench, having finished his final practice before the free skate began, and San could feel himself spiraling. How was he supposed to win gold if he couldn't even focus?
A gentle hand dropping into his shoulder startled San and he turned to find Na-Ri smiling down at him.
“You still with me, San?”
“Yes. I am, I promise.”
“Perhaps you need a different kind of distraction.”
“What do you mean?”
Na-Ri tilted her head to the edge of the rink. “Your friend has come to say hello.”
Confused, San looked over to find Wooyoung standing off to the side, hands stuffed into his pockets and looking a little shy. When San approached him, a warm smile spread across his face.
“I just wanted to check on you,” Wooyoung explained timidly, his tone and demeanor missing his normal flirtatiousness.
Something about Wooyoung's presence warmed San's heart and he unexpectedly found himself taking a step closer to him.
“You saw me not thirty minutes ago.”
“I know, I just… a lot can happen in thirty minutes.” Wooyoung ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words to say. “I don't know Seonghwa's story, or how you tie into it, but anyone can see the love you two have for one another. A kind of bond that goes beyond friendship. Seeing someone you care for so deeply in that kind of pain can't be easy.”
San looked at Wooyoung with surprise. A part of him thought Hongjoong would have told Wooyoung about Seonghwa's chronic pain, but it seemed that San was foolish for even thinking that.
“It's not easy and… I'm not really okay.”
“Would a hug help?”
Wooyoung opened his arms slightly, inviting San in. It was such a ridiculous offer that San struggled not to laugh, yet he took another step forward and wrapped his arms around Wooyoung's waist. Without hesitation, Wooyoung tightened his arms around San, enveloping him in warmth, both physically and emotionally.
San felt himself melting into Wooyoung's embrace, breathing in the man's comforting scent, feeling his heartbeat press against his chest. Wooyoung brought a hand up to gently caress the back of San's head, careful not to mess up his hair that was already styled for his performance. San's breath hitched at the touch and a pleasant chill ran down his spine.
Is this really how Wooyoung made him feel? Warm and comforted and yearning for something more? Had San really been in that deep of denial all of this time?
After lingering for a few moments, San stepped out of the embrace, suddenly feeling nervous about being so close to Wooyoung.
“How is Hongjoong doing?” San asked, trying to distract himself.
“Not much better than you. I had to take his phone away from him so that he wouldn't send dozens of texts to Seonghwa.”
“I wouldn't be surprised if Seonghwa's mom did the same thing.”
Wooyoung chuckled before taking a step back. “I should probably head back to my seat.”
“Yeah, the first pair will be skating onto the ice in a few minutes.”
“I'm not here for the other skaters, San. Just you.” A cheeky grin spread across Wooyoung's lips, though there was something more endearing about it than there had been in the past. Something more real. “I can't wait to see what you and Na-Ri do. I already know it's going to be amazing.”
San's heart did a little flip as Wooyoung walked off, a million different questions running through his head. But the one that kept repeating itself was the one Seonghwa had asked him the other week.
“Aren't you a little curious to see where this could lead?”
As San watched Wooyoung walk back to his seat across the rink, the answer hit San with enough force to leave him breathless.
Yes. Yes, he was.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“Can I have my phone back now?” Hongjoong asked once Wooyoung sat down next to him.
“No.”
“You're being a little ridiculous, don't you think?”
“No.”
Hongjoong groaned as he slumped in his seat. What was so wrong with wanting to check in with Seonghwa? Sure, his parents were with him and taking care of him, but Hongjoong felt this emptiness in his gut at the thought of not being there. He wanted to be the one to take care of Seonghwa. Not just now, but whenever something like this happened. Even when nothing was wrong, Hongjoong wanted to be there.
A warm hand wrapped around Hongjoong's wrist and he turned to find Wooyoung smiling at him gently.
“You already got a text from him that he was home and resting. Let that be enough for now. If I'm not mistaken, you made him a promise before he left.”
He did. Hongjoong promised he would cheer on San enough for the two of them.
“You're right.”
“I usually am.” Hongjoong pinched Wooyoung's side, making him squeal in both pain and amusement. “I can't wait until you finally tell him everything, and stop pouting like a lovesick puppy.”
“You're one to talk, Wooyoung. Or do you still think your feelings are stronger than his?”
Wooyoung's cheeks grew warm as he thought back to the hug he and San shared. It felt nice, almost intimate the way San had melted into him. They could feel each other's heart beating against their chests, the rhythm faster than normal. Wooyoung only hoped that it meant the same thing for San as it did for him.
“I guess we'll know by the end of the night.”
The atmosphere within the ice rink changed a few minutes later as the first pair glided onto the ice, ready to perform their free skate. There was no denying how incredibly talented each pair was, wowing the crowd with their spins and lifts. Every score that was announced left Wooyoung feeling a little nervous, but he focused his thoughts on San instead.
Wooyoung has watched that man practice several days over the past few weeks. He saw his routine with Na-Ri the other day. Wooyoung knew how capable San was. He and Na-Ri deserved to win.
Then came the moment for San and Na-Ri to skate their routine, and Wooyoung instinctively leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued on San. If he thought their skating was perfect during the short skate, Wooyoung didn't know what word best described their skating now. He was utterly captivated, watching San and Na-Ri's movements as they told a story of strength and love, elegance and power.
Wooyoung was on his feet to applaud before the music had even stopped, catching the attention of those sitting near him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the proud smile on San's face, both of his dimples deepened by the action, as he and Na-Ri bowed. It was a beautiful sight to see.
Their score was announced. 146.83. That added with their score the other day totaled at 221.45. First place. San and Na-Ri were currently ranked first. Wooyoung could hardly sit still. Sure, there were still six pairs left to skate, but Wooyoung was feeling optimistic.
“They've got this,” Wooyoung whispered to himself, his hands tapping against his knees.
Not forty minutes later, and the final scores were announced. San and Na-Ri ranked first. Na-Ri cried in San's arms as they hugged, overwhelmed by the victory. San heard people talking to him, asking him questions and congratulating him and Na-Ri, but he couldn't focus on anything.
Everything felt like a blur, from the medal being put around his neck to being embraced by his parents. San was overcome with emotion, and after managing to answer a small handful of questions by journalists, he hid away in the locker room, needing a moment of peace and quiet.
Once his tears had stopped streaming down his face, San took out his phone and snapped a photo of him holding up the gold medal before sending it to Seonghwa with the caption, “This is for you.”
A few moments later San received several replies filled with nothing but screaming gifs and confetti emojis. San laughed as he leaned against the lockers, easily imagining the hug Seonghwa would be giving him if he was there.
Knowing that he couldn't hide for much longer, San quickly changed out of his skating attire and into the jeans and sweater he had been wearing earlier. Once his duffle bag was packed with his outfit and skates, San turned to make his way out of the locker room, only to be stopped by Wooyoung entering the room.
“Hi,” Wooyoung greeted as he leaned against the doorway, leaving plenty of distance between the two of them. “Everyone was wondering where you were.”
“So they sent you to find me?”
Wooyoung smirked. “I volunteered.”
“Of course you did.”
A moment of silence passed between them before Wooyoung took a step forward, suddenly looking shy. Much like he did when he had checked on San earlier.
“You were amazing tonight. You deserved this win.”
“Thank you, Wooyoung.”
Another beat of silence.
“So, umm… I was wondering. Do you think… would you like–”
Wooyoung's words were cut off as San closed the distance between them and pressed a gentle kiss against Wooyoung's cheek, his lips close to the side of Wooyoung's mouth.
“Yes,” San whispered against Wooyoung's skin before stepping back. “I'll go on a date with you.”
Wooyoung simply looked up at San, wide eyed and frozen. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Obviously that's the exact answer he was hoping for, but Wooyoung hadn't expected San to take the initiative. He suddenly felt weak in the knees.
“You call that a kiss?” Wooyoung asked with a laugh, trying to hold tight to the flirtatious person that he was. It wasn't working.
San rolled his eyes before walking around Wooyoung, making his way toward the exit.
“You're going to have to try harder than that to get a real kiss from me.”
With that as his goodbye, San walked out of the locker room, a giant smile on his face.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Seonghwa spent the rest of Thursday night and all of Friday lying in bed, only getting up when necessary. And always with the help of his mother. He was grateful for his parents, grateful that they helped him without hesitation. But as Seonghwa curled up in bed, reading through the text thread he had with Hongjoong, he couldn't help but wish that Hongjoong was the one by his side.
He took comfort in the texts he would receive from Hongjoong, the first couple asking how he was doing before moving on to other topics, helping Seonghwa focus on other things rather than the pain in his back. It was easy to get lost in conversations with Hongjoong, Seonghwa often forgetting his parents were even in his apartment until one of them would come into his room to inquire what was making him laugh so hard.
As Seonghwa lay in bed later that night after a warm shower and changing into clean pajamas, he sent a goodnight text to Hongjoong. The pain in his back was still creeping in every couple of hours, so Seonghwa was hoping a good night's sleep would eliminate it. He still had his free skate the following night to perform.
Before Seonghwa could let his eyes fall shut, his phone screen lit up with an incoming call. He immediately answered and brought the phone to his ear.
“Hongjoong?”
“Hi,” Hongjoong whispered on the other end. “I know you need to sleep and I don't want to keep you up, I just… I wanted to hear your voice.”
Seonghwa buried his face into his pillow, suddenly feeling shy despite Hongjoong not being able to see him.
“It's good to hear your voice too,” Seonghwa replied, his cheeks warm from blushing. “I've missed you.”
The sound of Hongjoong's breath hitching echoed through the speaker before he replied. “I've missed you as well. I know we haven't really had a chance to talk all week, and I promise I'll explain why after you win tomorrow.”
Seonghwa sighed. “Hongjoong, I appreciate your support, but I don't think tomorrow is going to turn out that way. My short skate–”
“Was a blip, Seonghwa. You're going to win, I know it. Which leads me to an important question.”
“What is it?”
“Do you have a favorite flower?”
More blushing. Seonghwa's entire body felt warm.
“Honestly, I'm not particular to a specific flower.” Seonghwa bit his bottom lip before continuing. “Why don't you pick whichever you think I'd like. Whatever you choose to give me, I'll love.”
“Great. Okay.” They listened to each other's soft breathing in silence for a few moments before Hongjoong spoke again. “Goodnight, Seonghwa. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, Hongjoong.”
When they hung up, Seonghwa hugged his phone to his chest. Whatever happened the following night, Hongjoong would be there, his eyes only on Seonghwa. And Seonghwa would be skating for more than just himself. The thought made his heart flutter as he slowly drifted off to sleep, a smile still on his lips.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“Will you sit still?” Yubin asked as she messed with Seonghwa's hair… again.
“Yubin, stop. My hair is fine.”
“Fine is not good enough. You need to look perfect.”
Seonghwa reached out to grab Yubin's hands, pulling them away from his head.
“How are you more nervous than I am?”
Yubin laughed. “I've been asking myself that all day. Okay, I'll stop fussing.”
“Good.”
Seonghwa looked down at his outfit and smiled. His black pants blended into a dark blue at the base of his shirt, which gradually got lighter the higher the color went, until it was almost white at his collar. Tiny silver and purple jewels scattered across the shirt, looking almost like stars. The outfit reminded Seonghwa of a galaxy. He wore a small amount of makeup, mainly some eyeshadow to give himself a smokey eye, and his hair framed his face in soft waves. Despite all of Yubin's fussing, Seonghwa already felt perfect.
Up in his seat, Hongjoong sat anxiously, his eyes fixated on Seonghwa across the rink. He could only imagine how nervous Seonghwa was, especially after the events of the short skate. Seonghwa had arrived at the rink only a few minutes before the final practices began, so there wasn't any time to go speak to him. But Seonghwa had sent Hongjoong a text that his pain wasn't causing any issues so far, so Hongjoong took that as a good sign.
The first skater glided across the ice, and Hongjoong went still in his seat. On the other side of the rink, Seonghwa's heart began pounding inside of his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.
Twenty-three men skated before Seonghwa's name was announced. Yubin pulled him into a quick hug before he stepped out on the ice, feeling every type of emotion he could possibly feel. Seonghwa looked into the crowd, his eyes finding his parents and then San. He saved looking up at Hongjoong for last, the man's gaze washing over him with nothing but peace.
Seonghwa stood in the middle of the rink and waited. The lights dimmed and music suddenly began to play.
Despite being remixed to have a longer intro, Hongjoong recognized the BTS song immediately. While the rest of the audience might find Seonghwa's song choice predictable, Hongjoong had no doubt there was a deeper meaning behind the choice. One that involved Hongjoong himself.
The moment Your Eyes Tell began to play, Seonghwa's body started to move almost on its own. He had been working on this routine for months, long before he even met Hongjoong, but it wasn't until Hongjoong came into his life that Seonghwa started to see the moves more clearly.
Now every move had meaning. Every spin, every jump had an emotion behind it that flowed through Seonghwa's veins, digging deep into his soul. Everything he had felt over the past few weeks, the longing that had been there from the beginning guided Seonghwa across the ice as his body moved with a fluid elegance that was unmatched.
Hongjoong watched in awe as Seonghwa moved, tears threatening to break free. In all of his life, Hongjoong had never seen anything so beautiful. Seonghwa was the work of art as well as the artist, a rare sight only viewed by a few. Specks of ice floated around Seonghwa like stardust, creating his own galaxy, with no other star shining brighter than him.
As the climax of the song grew near, Seonghwa knew that this routine wouldn't be enough. It was beautiful, perfectly executed and for Seonghwa, deeply personal. But one didn't win without taking risks, and he needed to take a risk.
He could hear the gasps as he readied himself for the jump, no one in the audience believing what Seonghwa was about to attempt. He knew his parents, Yubin and even San would not approve of his plan, but it was too late.
Seonghwa made the leap off of his left skate in a forward takeoff. One. Two. Three. Four and a half rotations before landing perfectly on his right skate, gliding into the rest of his routine.
The cheers were loud, but Seonghwa drowned them out. They weren't important, not at that moment. Finishing strong was his focus.
His final spin led him into the last few seconds of the song, until he and the song came to an elegant stop, with Seonghwa's hand outstretched in front of him. Reaching toward Hongjoong.
Their eyes met, both glistening with tears, and Seonghwa cried. For the first time since he returned to figure skating, Seonghwa's tears weren't the result of pain, but of joy. Because this routine was more than simply a performance to help him win a medal.
It was a confession.
Hongjoong couldn't stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks as he stared at Seonghwa, his heart so full that he felt like it might explode. What Seonghwa just gifted him was more precious than anything he had ever or will ever receive. It took everything in Hongjoong not to rush onto the ice and kiss him in front of everyone.
“I think he just shot up to first place,” Wooyoung said, pulling Hongjoong's attention away from Seonghwa.
“Even if he didn't, that was perfect.”
Seonghwa glided to the edge of the rink and followed Yubin over to the bench to await his score. He did everything he could do. Whether it all paid off was up to the judges. No matter what, Seonghwa felt content.
“You're insane,” Yubin said as they waited. “A quad axel?”
“I landed it, didn't I?”
“If your mother doesn't kill you, I will. Seonghwa, that's the most dangerous jump a skater can try to make. And with your back–”
“My back is fine.”
Which wasn't a lie. Seonghwa had expected pain after making that jump, but it never came. Even now, as he sat awaiting his final score, there was no acute pain. In fact, he felt good.
Yubin wrapped her arm around Seonghwa's shoulder. “You're an idiot, but I love you.”
When Seonghwa's final score was announced, he couldn't believe his ears. He looked at Yubin confused, but his coach just pulled him into a tight hug.
207.32. That was Seonghwa's score. In total, he had accumulated 296.95 points between both routines. In disbelief, Seonghwa watched as his name flashed next to first place on the board. The person who had ranked first during the short skate had already had his turn. In fact, most of the people who ranked above Seonghwa the other day had performed before him.
Was this it? Did he win?
Seonghwa couldn't watch. For the rest of the Championships, Seonghwa sat with his eyes closed, blocking the rest of the world out. It wasn't until he felt the familiar embrace of his mom that Seonghwa realized it was over and that he won.
Even after falling in the short skate, he won. Even after all of the pain and agony and brutal work he put his body through, Seonghwa won.
The cheers were deafening, the crowd on their feet, clapping and throwing flowers onto the ice, his name being chanted with pride. Tears began falling again, and he didn't try to stop them.
Knowing that he wouldn't want to be around so many people, Yubin led Seonghwa into the locker room where his parents and San rushed to meet him. He hugged them all, their cheeks wet with their own tears.
Seonghwa kept looking toward the door, expecting to see Hongjoong walk in at any moment, but he never did.
“The crowd is still crazy out there,” San said as he held up his phone, revealing a text from Wooyoung. “They're having a difficult time making their way over here.”
“Let's just have them meet us at a restaurant to celebrate,” Mrs. Park suggested. “Where would you like to go, sweet boy?”
“Actually, Ma, can we hold off that celebration for later?”
“Why? Are you in pain?” Seonghwa shook his head, trying to find the right way to tell his mom that he'd rather spend time with only one person that night. The moment his mom saw the blush in his cheeks, she understood. “Oh, of course. We'll get together later.”
“Wait, why not tonight?” Mr. Park asked, clearly lost.
“Come on, dear. I'm tired. We'll have dinner with Seonghwa and Hongjoong later.” Mrs. Park turned to Seonghwa with a pointed look. “Don't make me wait too long to be introduced to that man properly.”
“Yes, Ma.”
Seonghwa watched his parents leave, his dad still confused. San chuckled as he pulled Seonghwa into another hug.
“Congratulations, my friend.”
“Thank you, San.”
“Now if I'm not mistaken, you have some celebrating to partake in. I'll see myself out.”
“Have fun with Wooyoung.”
“Shut up.”
When San was gone, Seonghwa turned his attention to Yubin.
“I need a favor.”
Yubin sighed. “What do you need?”
After finalizing his plan with Yubin and sending Hongjoong a quick text, Seonghwa peeled out of his skating attire and jumped into one of the showers. Thirty minutes later, Yubin was pulling up to their practice ice rink, letting Seonghwa out of her car.
“Make sure you text Hyunsuk when you're ready to leave so that he can lock back up.”
“I will. Thanks for the ride.”
“Of course. Now get out of my car.”
Seonghwa laughed as he got out of the car and walked into the rink. The lights were dimly lit, almost washing the rink in a romantic glow, the ice freshly smooth. Setting his duffle bag onto the bench, Seonghwa walked over to where loaner skates were kept, grabbing a pair that he thought would be Hongjoong's size. Then he waited.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Hongjoong walked inside, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Unable to stop himself, Seonghwa ran forward and threw his arms around Hongjoong, pulling him into a tight hug.
The two men didn't say anything for a while, just held each other close, their hearts fluttering inside of their chests.
“What you did tonight, Seonghwa, was absolutely beautiful,” Hongjoong eventually said, his lips brushing against Seonghwa's hair. “To be honest, I don't think there's a word in any language that could properly describe how breathtaking that was.”
“I'd say you're doing a good job right now explaining it.”
“Yet it's not enough.” Hongjoong stepped out of the embrace to present Seonghwa with the flowers. “These are for you. They're marigolds.”
“Why marigolds?”
Hongjoong blushed slightly. “Those are my favorite, actually.”
Seonghwa's heart did a little dance in his chest. “They're beautiful. Thank you.” Reaching out, Seonghwa grabbed hold of Hongjoong's hand. “Now that I've competed in the Championships, do you think we can talk about this? Us? I know I said I wouldn't push, especially with your job being an issue, but maybe there's a way around it.”
“You don't have to worry about my job, Seonghwa.”
“Writing is important to you, Hongjoong, and I don't want to do anything that could hinder–”
“Seonghwa, I quit my job.”
Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong in silence, his words slowly sinking in.
“You… quit?”
“Yes, that's what I was taking care of earlier this week. There were some issues with Jin-Ah trying to claim things that weren't true, but it all worked out. I should have quit a long time ago, but I guess I needed you in my life to see the truth. I love writing, but not for that column. It drained the passion out of me. But I'm going to get it back. Slowly but surely, I'm going to find my voice again.”
“You quit.”
The intensity in Seonghwa's eyes sent a chill down Hongjoong's spine, and he stepped closer until their chests brushed against each other.
“I did. And that means I'm free to do this.”
Cupping Seonghwa's cheeks in his hands, Hongjoong leaned forward to cover Seonghwa's lips with his own. They moved slowly at first, Seonghwa wrapping his arms around Hongjoong's waist, sighing against his lips. The kiss grew heated as time went on, one of Hongjoong's hands caressing down Seonghwa's neck and chest, before grabbing hold of his waist, pulling Seonghwa closer.
They broke out of the embrace completely breathless, a smile on each of their faces.
“That was worth the wait,” Seonghwa whispered, pressing their foreheads together.
Hongjoong chuckled before brushing a soft kiss to Seonghwa's lips. “Good. I'm glad.” Intertwining their hands together, Seonghwa led Hongjoong to the bench that held his duffle bag. Hongjoong's eyes immediately fell to the spare skates placed next to the bag. “What are we doing?”
“Consider it a mini date.”
“You want to go skating? With me?”
“Of course.” Seonghwa sat down and began putting on his own skates. “Come on, it'll be fun.”
“Have you forgotten that I am a clumsy individual?”
“Not at all. Don't worry. As long as you hold onto my hand, you'll be fine.”
After a few more minutes of protesting, Hongjoong was gliding onto the ice next to Seonghwa, their hands intertwined. Hongjoong was unsteady on his feet, but Seonghwa expected that. They moved at Hongjoong's pace, which was very, very slow.
“You still think this is fun?” Hongjoong asked as he struggled to keep his balance.
“Absolutely.”
“Why do I feel like you're messing with me?”
“I would never do that.”
Skating a little faster, Seonghwa turned so that he was facing Hongjoong, gracefully skating backwards. He took hold of Hongjoong's other hand and pulled him forward, making them go faster.
“Seonghwa!”
“I've got you. Trust me.”
Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut as Seonghwa began spinning them in circles, a string of expletives falling from his lips, making Seonghwa laugh. It wasn't long until Hongjoong was also laughing, opening up his eyes again, joy present on his face instead of fear.
They glided across the ice for a while, not once did Seonghwa let go of Hongjoong's hand.
“I told you it would be fun,” Seonghwa said once they sat on the bench to take off their skates.
“Fine. You were right.”
Seonghwa smiled triumphantly as he went to return the loaner skates to their designated spot before walking back to Hongjoong.
“You'll find that I am almost always right.”
“Are you hungry? We can continue this mini date and grab something to eat.”
“No. I'm actually wanting to head home.”
Hongjoong's face fell slightly, but he nodded regardless. “Oh, okay.”
Seonghwa stepped closer, his hand caressing up Hongjoong's side before leaning down to kiss underneath his jaw.
“And I want you to join me,” Seonghwa whispered as he leaned back, looking at Hongjoong with a heated desire that was impossible to ignore.
Hongjoong had no intention of ignoring it.
“My car's out front.”
“Good.”
After grabbing the flowers and Seonghwa's duffle bag, and sending a text to Hyunsuk, Seonghwa followed Hongjoong outside and into his car.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Seonghwa's front door hadn't even shut all the way before their lips crashed together, intense and unapologetic as Seonghwa dropped his duffle bag by the door and tossed the flowers onto the counter. While their first kiss had been tender and romantic, this one was rough, with more tongue and teeth, their hands roaming each other's bodies as they stumbled through Seonghwa's living room.
Hongjoong didn't need to look where he was going, guiding Seonghwa directly to his bedroom despite having only been in this apartment once. Inside Seonghwa's room, Hongjoong pressed Seonghwa against the closed door, his lips trailing across Seonghwa's jaw and down his neck. His glasses started to become an issue, so Hongjoong took them off and tossed them onto Seonghwa's dresser.
“Do you even need those?” Seonghwa asked with a gasp as Hongjoong's lips returned to his neck. “Or are they simply for aesthetic?”
Hongjoong laughed against Seonghwa's skin. “Would you be disappointed if I said it was the second option?”
“Nope. Just another thing about you that I find cute.”
Hongjoong caught Seonghwa's lips in another kiss, this one slow again, his tongue memorizing every inch of Seonghwa's mouth as his hands caressed Seonghwa's hips.
“Have I mentioned how proud I am of what you did tonight?”
Seonghwa smiled. “A few times. Why? Do you want me to retrieve my medal and wear it for the rest of the night?”
“Tempting, but no.” Hongjoong's hands grazed up Seonghwa's sides, coming to rest on his chest. The beat of his heart was fast beneath Hongjoong's palm. “I don't want a single thing to be a barrier between me and you.”
Seonghwa's pupils dilated as Hongjoong slowly began unbuttoning Seonghwa's shirt, his fingers brushing against Seonghwa's skin in a teasing manner. The moment the fabric fell to the floor, pooling at Seonghwa's feet, Hongjoong's lips were on Seonghwa's skin.
Hongjoong kissed him everywhere. Down his neck, across his collarbone, each kiss was soft and deliberate like Hongjoong was mapping out Seonghwa's body. His lips continued to travel downward, brushing against Seonghwa's toned chest and across every line of his abs.
Seonghwa was struggling to breathe properly and his breathing stopped all together when he looked down to find Hongjoong on his knees, pressing tender kisses just above his jeans.
“Oh, god,” Seonghwa sighed, his head falling back against the door.
Hongjoong grinned before slowly turning Seonghwa around, pressing a gentle kiss against Seonghwa's lower back, right on top of his scar. Seonghwa's breath hitched in his chest and his nails clawed at the door.
“Is that okay?” Hongjoong asked, worried that even the smallest pressure against Seonghwa's back might hurt him. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach when Hongjoong received Seonghwa's reply.
“Do that again,” Seonghwa whimpered, pressing his forehead against the door. “Please.”
Needing no other permission than that, Hongjoong leaned forward again, slowly kissing up Seonghwa's scar. Each brush of his lips was rewarded by a soft moan falling from Seonghwa's lips, his body trembling beneath Hongjoong's touch. Rising to his feet again to reach every inch of the scar, Hongjoong was soon kissing the back of Seonghwa's neck, his chest pressed against Seonghwa's back.
“Feeling good?” Hongjoong asked, caressing his hands against Seonghwa's waist, a couple fingers dipping below the waistline of his jeans.
Seonghwa chuckled lightly as he turned around in Hongjoong's embrace, leaning in for a kiss before he replied.
“Considering I've been wanting you to touch me like this for weeks, I'm feeling more than good.”
Hongjoong tilted his head, suddenly curious. “How long exactly?”
“Honestly? From the moment those chopsticks splattered soy sauce on your grey sweater.”
Hongjoong couldn't help but laugh, leaning his forehead against Seonghwa's shoulder.
“You mean the first moment I embarrassed myself in front of you?”
Seonghwa cupped Hongjoong's cheek and raised his head so that they could look into each other's eyes.
“You underestimate how charming I find your clumsiness, Hongjoong. Why do you think I looked so disappointed when you mentioned that you were a journalist? I was hoping that you had approached my table to flirt with me.”
“Are you still disappointed it didn't happen that way?”
Seonghwa's hands brushed underneath Hongjoong's sweater, his fingers ghosting over Hongjoong's skin before lifting the fabric up and discarding it onto the floor. Their chests now bare against each other, Seonghwa leaned forward to kiss Hongjoong's neck.
“Not even a little.”
Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa's face back to his own, their lips crashing together once more as Hongjoong led them across the room. The moment Seonghwa's legs hit the edge of the bed, Hongjoong gently laid him on his back before kissing down his body once again. The moment his lips reached the waistline of Seonghwa's jeans, Hongjoong popped open the button before grabbing the zipper with his teeth, pulling it down.
“Fuck,” Seonghwa gasped as he watched Hongjoong remove the last two layers of clothes he was wearing, though Hongjoong himself stayed partially clothed. “Do you plan on joining me?”
Hongjoong grabbed the back of Seonghwa's thighs and pulled him forward until his ass was on the edge of the bed. “Not yet,” Hongjoong replied before spreading Seonghwa's legs and lowering his head to press his lips against Seonghwa's sensitive skin.
Seonghwa's head slammed back against the bed as Hongjoong used his mouth to please Seonghwa, his hands still firmly grasping Seonghwa's thighs. Needing something to hold onto, Seonghwa reached out his hand and tangled his fingers through Hongjoong's hair, earning a deep moan from Hongjoong. Seonghwa's breathing became even more erratic the longer Hongjoong's mouth was on him, and when he finally found his release, his moans echoed through the room.
Hongjoong crawled onto the bed, gently kissing Seonghwa's temple before kissing fully on the mouth.
“Are you okay to keep going?” Hongjoong asked, brushing strands of damp hair from Seonghwa's face.
Seonghwa traced his hands over Hongjoong's chest before lowering them to the button and zipper of Hongjoong's pants, undoing them both.
“I want all of you, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong climbed off of the bed long enough to remove his pants and underwear before grabbing Seonghwa and turning him so that they both could lie properly on the bed. Their lips connected immediately, their hands caressing each other's bodies with purpose. Hongjoong hovered over Seonghwa, careful not to put too much weight on him, yet was still close enough that Seonghwa felt him everywhere.
After enough teasing and preparation, Hongjoong pulled back and looked down at Seonghwa, a hand coming up to caress Seonghwa's cheek.
“Is there anything I should do to make this more comfortable for you?”
Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong in silence, unsure how to respond. No one he'd ever been with had asked him that question. When he finally found his voice, Seonghwa pointed to the pile of pillows at the top left corner of his bed.
“Having a pillow braced against my lower back seems to help sometimes.”
Nodding, Hongjoong grabbed a pillow before gently raising Seonghwa's body to lay it beneath him.
“If we need to stop, Seonghwa, please tell me.”
Leaning forward, Seonghwa brushed his lips against Hongjoong's. “I promise.”
Hongjoong moved slowly, wrapping Seonghwa's legs around his waist before connecting their bodies fully and completely. Seonghwa's breath hitched, but the smile on his lips told Hongjoong it was a sound of pleasure and not pain, so he began to move. He set a steady pace, rolling his hips against Seonghwa, his own moans blending in with Seonghwa's whimpers.
Seonghwa grasped onto Hongjoong's shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. But he pushed himself too far, and as Hongjoong moved again, a different kind of cry escaped Seonghwa's lips.
Hongjoong immediately stilled, rising slightly off of Seonghwa, who was closing his eyes, hoping the sudden pain was only momentary.
“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong raised his hand to caress Seonghwa's cheek. “Baby, look at me.” Seonghwa's chest warmed at the term of endearment as he opened his eyes, finding only concern and adoration staring back at him. Not annoyance, like with the others. “Do you need us to stop?”
Seonghwa shook his head. “No, but I think… we might need to try this a different way.”
Hongjoong was quiet for a moment before disconnecting from Seonghwa completely, both of them hating the emptiness they now felt, and gently rolled Seonghwa onto his left side, Seonghwa's head lying on top of both his and Hongjoong's left arms. Immediately, Seonghwa felt the pain in his back begin to numb. It was still there, but not so much that it would be a problem.
Crawling behind Seonghwa, Hongjoong pressed his chest against Seonghwa's back, kissing along his shoulder.
“Is this better?”
“Yes. Please, Hongjoong, I need–”
Seonghwa's words turned into a moan as Hongjoong brought their bodies together again. His movements were a lot more tender than they had been before, yet Hongjoong made sure that Seonghwa felt him everywhere. As he rolled his hips, Hongjoong kissed Seonghwa's neck and shoulder, his right hand caressing up and down Seonghwa's body.
Each thrust was so tender, each kiss or brush of his fingertips so light, yet Seonghwa had never known that type of pleasure. He had never felt more adored or seen, and his heart felt full as heat pooled in his stomach. Seonghwa grabbed hold of Hongjoong's right hand as his release drew near, wrapping the other man's arm tight around his waist.
“I got you, baby,” Hongjoong whispered against Seonghwa's neck, his gentle voice sending Seonghwa over the edge.
They released together, holding onto each other as their bodies trembled, breathing hard as they came down from the high. Even when their bodies relaxed and their breathing started to even out, they held onto one another, not ready to break this moment.
Seonghwa wasn't sure how much time had passed before Hongjoong moved away from him, climbing out of bed. When Seonghwa started to turn, Hongjoong's hand gently stopped him.
“Stay there. I'll be back in a moment.”
Seonghwa heard rather than saw Hongjoong walk further into his room, toward the bathroom. He was curious only for a moment before he heard the sound of the water running. More specifically, water from the tub.
Warmth filled Seonghwa's chest again as tears began to sting his eyes. How? How could Hongjoong be this perfect, this attentive? It almost didn't seem fair.
When Hongjoong returned to the bedroom and walked over to stand in front of Seonghwa, his eyes immediately fell to the tears falling down his cheeks. Kneeling down, Hongjoong wiped away the tears, cradling Seonghwa's face in his hand.
“Seonghwa? Baby, what's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Seonghwa replied, reaching out to caress Hongjoong's cheek. “These aren't tears of pain, I promise.”
Hongjoong gave a tentative nod before glancing back toward the bathroom. “Are you okay with me carrying you to the tub?”
“Yes.”
Slowly and without jolting Seonghwa's body too much, Hongjoong cradled him into his arms and carried Seonghwa into the bathroom. Seonghwa let his feet fall into the warm water, but he made no move to sit down.
“Join me,” Seonghwa said as he glanced over his shoulder at Hongjoong.
“This bath is for you.”
“I know. And I'll enjoy it much more if you join me.”
Releasing a sigh, Hongjoong climbed into the tub before guiding Seonghwa down to sit in the water, leaning his back against Hongjoong's chest. The bath smelled of lavender and orange, the water silky smooth with the oils Hongjoong used.
As Seonghwa relaxed against Hongjoong's chest, Hongjoong traced his fingers against Seonghwa's body, gently massaging Seonghwa's skin. Slowly, any remaining pain that Seonghwa felt started to fade away.
“I was crying because no one that I've been with since I started to walk again has treated me this way,” Seonghwa explained softly. “No one ever asked what would make me more comfortable. No one ever thought to draw me a bath to help soothe the pain. And I never thought to ask for these things myself, because showing any evidence that I might be in pain was an inconvenience to them.”
Hongjoong kissed the side of Seonghwa's head as he continued to massage his body.
“You're not an inconvenience, Seonghwa. Especially not to me. Those people you were with before are poor excuses for partners. No one should view someone else's needs as an inconvenience, least of all if it's someone you love.”
The room went silent as Hongjoong's words hung in the air. Even his hands stilled against Seonghwa's skin.
Taking a deep breath, Seonghwa asked, “And do you? Love me?”
“I shouldn't, right? Yet I don't know how else to describe how I feel. But that's crazy. Isn't three weeks too soon to fall in love with someone?”
“No,” Seonghwa said as he turned his head to look at Hongjoong. “Because it took me less time to fall in love with you.”
Tears glistened Hongjoong's eyes as Seonghwa raised his hand to cup Hongjoong's cheek and leaned forward to press their lips together. The kiss was slow and sensual, the taste of their tears mixing with their tongues. There was no rush in their movements, eventually pulling back so that Seonghwa could lie against Hongjoong's chest again.
They stayed in the bath until the water started to turn cold before returning to the bed. Knowing it was best, Seonghwa lied down on his side, though he made sure to face Hongjoong this time, allowing Hongjoong to cradle him to his chest.
Hongjoong's steady heartbeat and the gentle caress of his fingers against Seonghwa's skin lulled Seonghwa to sleep, his heart full and his body weightless.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Hongjoong stretched out his arm, searching for the warmth of a body he knew was there. Only his hand caressed nothing but sheets. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Hongjoong sat up in bed, confused why Seonghwa wasn't lying next to him.
“Seonghwa?” he called out, preparing to hop out of bed but stopped the moment the bedroom door opened and Seonghwa walked in.
Hongjoong couldn't stop himself as his eyes trailed Seonghwa's body, the man wearing only his underwear and Hongjoong's sweater. The sight brought a smile to his lips.
“Did I wake you?” Seonghwa asked as he climbed back in bed, a piece of paper in his hands.
Hongjoong wrapped a hand around the back of Seonghwa's neck and slowly pulled him down for a lingering kiss.
“No, but what are you doing up this early?”
Seonghwa chuckled as he combed his fingers through Hongjoong's hair. “My love, it's almost eleven. You can hardly call that early.”
“Considering you and I had a rather late night, yes I can.” Hongjoong's eyes dropped to the paper in Seonghwa's hands. “What's that?”
Without hesitation, Seonghwa handed the paper to Hongjoong. “This is for you.”
As Hongjoong read the document, his eyes widened in shock.
“Seonghwa, this… this is a statement informing your plans to retire from figure skating.”
“I told you, Hongjoong. I was going to skate for a couple of more years or until I won gold.”
“And you succeeded last night.”
“Exactly. I got the closure I needed. I can finally let this dream go, and move on.”
“How do you plan on announcing this to the public? After your win last night, everyone's going to expect you to continue.”
Seonghwa reached for Hongjoong's hand and intertwined their fingers. “You're going to announce it for me, Hongjoong.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You're the only person I'd want to write an exclusive on me. And while this isn't necessarily an exclusive interview, it's enough to get people's attention, to get you back in the writing game.”
“Seonghwa, you don't owe me that.”
“I know that. But as your boyfriend, I'm giving it to you anyway.”
Hongjoong looked down at the document for another moment before setting it on the nightstand. He then raised Seonghwa's hand that he was holding and kissed the back of it.
“This announcement doesn't have to be written this very second, does it?”
Seonghwa smiled. “No. In fact, it could probably wait for a few days.”
“Good. Because right now, I want us to make breakfast.”
“I am rather hungry.”
Hongjoong pressed a kiss against Seonghwa's lips before climbing out of bed, pulling on his underwear and Seonghwa's button up shirt, not bothering with the buttons.
“Are you craving anything in particular?”
“I'm sure we'll figure something out.”
Reaching for each other's hands, Hongjoong and Seonghwa walked into the kitchen, pulling random things out of the fridge and pantry. The cooking process was filled with stolen glances and quick yet heated kisses, the two of them moving in sync with one another around the room. Soon the apartment filled with the pleasant aroma of a meal created together. The first meal out of many.
That realization brought a smile to their faces when their plates emptied and they collapsed happily onto the couch. Their lips connected, their bodies intertwined and they laid bare, body and soul, the rest of their lives stretched out in front of them.
The star and his observer, finally together.