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There were worse things in the world than losing a League match, but Jihoon had yet to find one that made him resent his hands more. It didn’t matter whose fault it was —his coaches, his teammates, himself— it all came back to Jihoon in the end.
Jihoon: Congrats, you played well
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Thanks
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Wanna come over?
If they lost a one-sided match it was because of his bad shot calling, if they lost a close one then he couldn’t carry hard enough. Sometimes when they won it was because he could carry, other times it meant that the rest of his team ‘finally caught up’.
He stopped reading forums years ago. It was one thing to resent himself, it was another entirely to resent his teammates. He did when he was younger, but now those posts just made him angry. That restless, pent up energy was better expelled before the next morning or Jihoon would be bitey and mean all day.
Jihoon: What time
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Now?
He had a system since he joined Gen.G and it’d been working just fine. He’d sit in the bathroom —dorm or practice rooms, it didn’t matter— and jerk off until the endorphins made him stupid. Not enough to act noticeably different, but enough to shut off his brain for a few hours. Just long enough to sleep it off.
Jihoon: I’ll bring drinks
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Dude
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): We can go to a hotel if you want it’s fine
But the shine was wearing off. Hiding in company bathrooms was sadder than it used to be and the longer he knew his teammates, the harder it was to get off at the dorms. But he also got better at controlling his emotions over the years, so that had to count for something.
Jihoon: Can I come over
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Duh
Oner (Moon Hyeonjun): Just stay quiet ;)
Jihoon flushed and locked his phone.
They wrapped up match reviews half an hour ago and Jihoon was lounging around the practice rooms alone. Their coaches didn’t say anything, not even Nova who seemed like he really, really wanted to.
Jihoon played an Arena game while he texted —then another for good measure— just so his account would have something on it when they checked. His reactions were sloppy and his fingers moved slower than usual, like playing in winter without a hand warmer. He came third twice, shut off his computer and called a cab.
Summer sucked. It was hot and busy and Jihoon hated feeling permanently sticky. Cool nights made up for it, but the gale force of the T1 air-con made him regret leaving his jacket at home.
Moon Hyeonjun met him at the front entrance. Dressed in loose sweatpants and a very tight tank top, Hyeonjun did an admirable job at looking unimpressed. That look only got worse when Jihoon handed him a heavy plastic bag.
“Dude, you know we can’t drink these, right?" He groaned, picking up a white Monster before dropping it back in. “Is this really all you brought?"
“Drink it at home.”
“They’re huge. No one’s gonna finish this before breakfast.” Hyeonjun rolled his eyes, grumbling as he led them to the elevator. “Whatever, I’ll just say they were on sale or something.”
Jihoon scowled. His skin felt tingly and hot all over. Moon Hyeonjun had a way of raising an eyebrow that never failed to fluster him.
“Y’know, if you wanna keep coming over then you need a better cover story man.”
“You know I’m older than you, right?”
“Not tonight you’re not.” Hyeonjun shot him a sleazy grin and Jihoon did his best to seem unaffected. It didn’t work.
Losing sucked worse than summer. It sucked for all the normal reasons but now it also made him horny. Fucking hell.
When they got to the elevator, Jihoon said: “I haven’t showered yet.”
Hyeonjun sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. Asshole.
“I’ll see if the gym’s empty.”
“You ever thought about working out instead?” Hyeonjun asked, his voice echoed against the changing room tiles. Jihoon winced. He liked to think it was because of the body wash in his eyes instead of the phantom twinge in his lower back.
“Instead of what?”
“The sex. Duh.” Hyeonjun’s voice was a lot closer. The shadow of feet appeared under the stall door while Jihoon stood under the shower spray. “Y’know… for a guy who keeps coming back you don’t seem to like me that much.”
Soapy water swirled down the drain. Jihoon didn’t know how to respond to that so he scrubbed his face instead. He came back because it was easy and Hyeonjun didn’t ask too much of him, but maybe Jihoon owed him some conversion. T1 beat them, after all.
Jihoon took the towel draped over the stall door and wrapped it around his waist. It wasn’t there when he started the water. He didn’t think about the implications, or his hot cheeks. Steam was thick in the air.
“I can’t work out.” Jihoon said, stepping out of the stall and directly into Hyeonjun. He took a shaky breath. “It’s bad for my back so I do pilates for my physical therapy.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really. It just—” Jihoon hissed. Ice cold fingertips dug into his back and all the muscles that’d relaxed in the shower tensed again. But Hyeonjun’s hands were gentle, to Jihoon’s constant surprise. Somehow, he managed to find every knot in Jihoon’s back and knead them out.
Jihoon swore under his breath as Hyeonjun’s other hand reached his waist and steadied him. They were so close and the overhead lights were blinding. No one else got exactly the right spots and he hadn’t seen Hyeonjun in weeks. Not for lack of losing, but still.
“Ready for bed?” Hyeonjun asked, grinning. It snapped Jihoon out of his daze. He snatched the outstretched clothes from and dressed with an annoyed grumble.
“I don’t give a shit. If you wanna do it like this then go hide.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.” Hyeonjun stressed, glancing out the door behind them.
Jihoon wasn’t thinking when he threw open the hallway linen closet. Well, he thought about what he and Hyeonjun could do in a tight, dark closet. What was supposed to be an empty closet had Kiin’s stupid expression in it instead.
Jihoon froze.
“You’re supposed to be grinding solo-queue.” Kiin said, but there was noise down the hall and Jihoon had nowhere left to run. So he shoved Kiin to the side and did the only thing he didn’t need to think about: neg.
“And you’re supposed to be sulking. We’re all coping, hyung.”
“Right…” Kiin trailed off and Jihoon backed as far into the shelves as possible. It was so hot. He didn’t want to think about sex this close to his teammates, not that he was in the mood anymore. “Why are you here, anyway?”
There were people coming. Jihoon shushed him and waited in the hopes that Kiin wouldn’t notice, that Jihoon could hold onto this piece of himself for just a little longer. And just when he thought he’d gotten away with it, Kiin opened his mouth again.
“You’re fucking their jungler.”
Fucking hell. There was a reason he didn’t want to tell anyone and tonight it came in the form of his nosy top laner. Other nights it was Jaehyuk asking if he had a date when Jihoon was heading to the store. Mostly it was when he saw the way their friends treated Kiin and Sanghyeok and he felt like a fraud.
Time. Jihoon needed time. Stall long enough and Kiin would need to leave. Why was he here, anyway? And why hadn’t he told anyone? Maybe he had. Maybe Jihoon should’ve gone with the others and he would’ve known to take up Hyeonjun’s offer of a hotel. But any longer and Jihoon would’ve blown his brains out and he couldn’t be sure no one would be caught in the crossfire. That would be bad for team morale.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I just thought it’d be the other one is all.”
Jihoon hated Kim Kiin in that moment. Hated him with a fiery passion reserved for people who brought up Choi Hyunjoon with no prior warning. It wasn’t fair. Kiin wasn’t even there. He couldn’t even pretend to know like Siwoo did.
Jihoon took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was his own fault. That people couldn’t know what he didn’t tell them, but Jihoon didn’t have any desire to open that can of worms again. It wasn’t their business and, if Jihoon was honest, it shouldn’t have been his either.
People said he and Hyunjoon worked well together, but it wasn’t true. Too similar, too grating, too different in all the wrong ways. It worked until it didn’t and it never fit the way it was supposed to. ‘Unpleasant’ was an understatement for their last real conversation. They’d won their match that night, actually, but it hadn’t helped Jihoon’s temper. It sort of made it worse.
Jihoon blocked out Sanghyeok and Hyeonjun’s voices. They weren’t going to say anything important.
If any of the T1 members were to find out, Sanghyeok would be the best. Far enough removed from petty drama and the mean streak that plagued Jihoon whenever he set foot near what was considered ‘Choi Hyunjoon’s’. He’d been considered that, once. T1’s current jungler should’ve been top of the list. Before they first hooked up, Jihoon thought he and Hyunjoon were together.
“Would your team get mad at me?”
“I don’t belong to them.” Hyeonjun said as he shoved Jihoon into the hotel door. “What, are you here to make Hyunjoon hyung jealous or something?”
Jihoon bristled and briefly considered lying. Saying something that might’ve been cooler or less embarrassing than the truth, but embarrassing got him places. Embarrassing worked.
“I’m here ‘cause I want you to fuck me hard enough to forget my own name.”
So Hyeonjun pressed a thigh between his legs and kissed Jihoon hard enough to bruise. And maybe his name was a bridge too far but he forgot about that terrible fucking semis loss for at least an hour and that was good enough.
It made him feel nineteen again, even though he was in his twenties when he and Hyunjoon last spoke.
“When did that start?” Kiin asked. ‘Fuck off’ was on the tip of Jihoon’s tongue. God, he was worse than he thought. Was this really better than thinking about the loss they just had? Maybe.
“Not important.”
“Are you together?”
“It’s just stress relief. It helped last Worlds so we kept meeting up till it stopped.” Jihoon sighed, banging his head on the door. Sanghyeok wouldn’t notice but hopefully Hyeonjun would. Jihoon wanted out of this stupid closet.
“When was that?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Right, Hyeonjun. If he focused on him instead of any of the shit piling up in his head then maybe he could sleep. The sex would help, when they got to it, but if Jihoon was honest with himself sex wasn’t the only reason he came. Hyeonjun gave nice massages and when he spoke it didn’t raise Jihoon’s hackles even though it probably should have.
Hyeonjun also knew more than a random person about their lives and less than anyone Jihoon regularly spoke to. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the freedom.
Kiin was quiet for a while and so was the hall, but eventually he shoved his way out and Jihoon —when asked if he was staying— gave a thumbs up and hoped his appreciation came through. He doubted it, if Kiin’s rolled eyes were anything to go off.
But Jihoon still waited thirty seconds anyway because if Kiin couldn’t get to Sanghyeok’s bedroom in that time he deserved to be found out.
Jihoon: Come get me I’m bored
Alone, Jihoon could finally stretch in the tiny space. He was still worked up from the locker rooms so when Hyeonjun opened the door, Jihoon dragged him forward and kissed him.
Hyeonjun didn’t shy away. He bit and licked like a virgin who’d never had a date in his life, which Jihoon knew wasn’t true even if he didn’t count.
“Sorry.” Hyeonjun panted, biting the line of Jihoon’s jaw down to his neck. “Been a while.”
But if he shoved a leg between Jihoon’s and kept prodding his back like that then Jihoon had nothing to complain about. He hissed, grabbing one hand on the back shelf and the other on the door. It was closed, thank god.
“Do you actually wanna do this here?” Hyeonjun asked between breaths. Jihoon kissed him again. No, he didn’t want to have sex on T1’s clean linen but a sloppy makeout was fine by him. He guided Hyeonjun’s hands to his back again, pressing them into the divots by his spine and sighed happily. When either of them got too handsy they could go. It really had been a while.
Thin metal dug into his cheek and Jihoon took Hyeonjun’s glasses and tucked them into his shirt. Hyeonjun didn’t seem to mind. He just crowded closer and closer until Jihoon barely felt the height difference. He must’ve slid down the wall.
“This okay?” Hyeonjun’s hot breath fanned over his ear and Jihoon had to bite back a groan. Those large hands slipped under his shirt, trailing all up his back and shoulders. God, it felt really good.
“Keep going.” He mumbled, cheeks burning hot as Hyeonjun hummed. The only thing more embarrassing than fucking a rival they just lost to was admitting he liked it. But whatever. It was a sacrifice he was, grudgingly, willing to make.
It was nice in the dark. And with those nimble fingers he was solely focused on Hyeonjun and not their miserable loss earlier that night. Or their miserable win three years ago. In fact, he was so distracted that he didn’t hear the doorknob turn until it was too late. Cold air rushed into the small gaps and Lee Sanghyeok gaped in the open doorway.
The only thought running through Jihoon’s mind was ‘thank god it’s not Choi Hyunjoon’.
Sanghyeok stared.
They probably looked ridiculous. Like two idiots who couldn’t keep it in their pants long enough to walk two doors down.
It felt like minutes before Sanghyeok choked out an apology and scampered off, leaving the door swinging open. In the bright light of the hall Hyeonjun grimaced and trained unfocused eyes on Jihoon. He looked cute without his glasses.
“Sorry.” Hyeonjun said, wincing. “I thought he—”
“It’s fine.” Jihoon replied. He really should’ve known. Kiin was hiding in there too so of course Sanghyeok would come back. It was Jihoon’s mistake, his mess to clean up. It was always his mess, even when it wasn’t.
“I’ll tell Sanghyeok hyung not to say anything.”
“I don’t care.”
“You sure?”
He glanced at Hyeonjun’s pretty eyes and fought the urge to grimace. The worst part of ‘fucking your rival after a loss’ wasn’t Hyeonjun or the hooking up, it was the loss. It was always the loss. Tonight Hyeonjun was kind of the loss too.
“Kiin hyung won’t say anything. I doubt Sanghyeok will either.” Jihoon said and hoped it was true.
Hyeonjun gave a small nod. They were still tangled together. So, so hot in the stuffy closet but Jihoon didn’t want to leave yet. They had to, though. Eventually. But they lingered for a minute or two longer than they had to.
“Alright. Then let’s go, yeah?” Hyeonjun said softly, giving Jihoon one last press of their lips before he opened the door.
Jihoon waited for the sinking feeling in his chest to start. For Hyeonjun’s understanding to start feeling like pity, but it never did. It never had. That was why he kept coming back.
Jihoon left first, wincing at the bright light and jumping at the slap on his ass.
“C’mon, better move it if you don't want anyone else comin’ out.” Hyeonjun smirked. The way he said ‘anyone else’ didn’t even make Jihoon want to punch him. That much. There was only one person that could’ve been about.
Hyeonjun was an asshole but Jihoon didn’t mind that about him. Jihoon was kind of an asshole too.
Hyeonjun’s bedroom was plain. Jihoon had been there before but it was still unfamiliar enough to remind him of a hotel room. Boring and impersonal, as long as he kept his eyes off the photo wall on his right. It was looking more and more like a HLE reunion these days. Jihoon was glad he wasn’t up there.
Hyeonjun crept up behind him, hooking his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder.
“You still in the mood?” He murmured, grinning into Jihoon’s neck. He must’ve put his glasses back on too because the metal dug in again. “Or do you want your PT session first?”
Light fingers were playing with the waist of Jihoon’s borrowed sweatpants. Hyeonjun was pressed so close behind him, enough that Jihoon could feel he wasn’t the only one affected by their make out session. Decisions, decisions. It was already getting hard to think so he spun around to kiss Hyeonjun instead. Perfect.
“Massage first.” Jihoon said when he finally pulled back. A string of spit connected their mouths. He took a shaky breath.
“Get on the bed.”
Hyeonjun reached for the lotion on his nightstand while Jihoon sat back and got comfortable. He peeled the borrowed tank top off, throwing it behind him. His head was pleasantly foggy when he laid on his stomach. Hyeonjun’s slippery hands felt really nice on his back.
Usually they didn’t talk much. They skipped the foreplay or kept their mouths busy enough to avoid conversation completely, and Hyeonjun was nice. He wouldn’t talk if Jihoon really, really didn’t want to, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights and they both knew it.
“Y’know, you played good tonight too, hyung.” Hyeonjun said, digging a thumb between his shoulder blades.
“We were fine.”
Modesty wasn’t in Jihoon’s blood. He knew, objectively, that they were fine, just not good enough. It was worse knowing that T1’s mistakes were easy to brush off; a misclicked teleport, a few wonky flashes. Stupid mistakes. Pure outclassing was a lot harder to fix. They needed a better draft, a better plan, better synergy, better shot calling, better hands. It was a long list.
“You’re way too hard on yourself man. Y’know, it reminds me of–” Hyeonjun cut himself off but he didn’t apologise. His needling was less subtle than most, but Choi Hyunjoon had always been low hanging fruit around Jihoon.
“I know we weren’t bad, you were just better. I can’t sulk forever.”
“That’s what I’m for, right?”
Jihoon smiled into the pillow. Pressing his face further in when Hyeonjun reached a sensitive part of his shoulder. His stomach twisted as slow, slippery fingers kneaded out the tension and if Jihoon could’ve moved his hips he would have. God.
“Fuck, you’re good at that.” He sighed.
“I practice on Sanghyeok a lot. He always asks me to do his shoulder in the greenroom.”
“Do you fuck him after too?”
Hyeonjun’s cackle was loud but not as annoying as it should’ve been. It was deep and full and made Jihoon’s chest tighten.
“Nah, just you, hyung.” Hyeonjun drawled, and that should’ve been annoying too. The slow, syrupy way he strung his words together usually made Jihoon have to focus harder. Tonight it was easy, which sucked because it meant there was more space in his mind for the lowlights of that night’s match to come to the forefront. The screams of a thousand T1 fans resounded in his skull. Shit.
Jihoon sat up, knocking Hyeonjun off and held his breath. The sex wasn’t a perfect system but it worked better than this, most of the time.
“What, my hands too good?” Hyeonjun smirked.
But Jihoon didn’t really care. He stared shamelessly at Hyeonjun’s flexed arms in the hopes that it’d replace the memory of a failed reengage he called for. That everyone watched him call for. If he chanted ‘Moon Hyeonjun’ in his mind on loop then he kind of muffled the cheers for their loss.
“Uh, hyung?”
Jihoon didn’t answer. If he did, it’d probably be about a failed tower dive he didn’t need to think about. Again.
Hyeonjun clicked his tongue, set his glasses aside and laid Jihoon down gently. So, so gently. One pillow under his head and another under his hips. Taking just enough pressure off to keep the dull ache in his back at bay. For now.
This was more what Jihoon was used to. Hyeonjun tugging his pyjamas down, the dark, blown-out eyes that raked down his front. It made Jihoon flush down his chest.
He swallowed. It reminded him of their first time, which was… really good. Pent-up energy, heightened emotions, the surprise of running into each other in a Chinese hotel lobby. He tried not to think about it regularly because it made him light-headed and his teammates didn’t need to be around for that.
“You wanna fuck? Me?” Hyeonjun said, gaping mouth reflecting on each side of the elevator. It was kind of rude but Jihoon didn’t care. “Like, right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He sounded bewildered. It wasn’t unjustified.
“Because you’re hot. And we’re not friends.” Jihoon said. Hyeonjun blinked, jaw still hanging open. “And it won’t ruin either of our team dynamics.”
“Great.” He said dryly.
But Jihoon held his breath, watched Hyeonjun lick his lips and swallow. His chest rose in the black compression shirt and Jihoon tried desperately to keep his eyes up.
“You good?” Hyeonjun asked and Jihoon had to remind himself not to tense his hips when he nodded. Fuck, those hands felt good.
Hyeonjun’s fingers were gentle when they pressed inside of him. Stretching him open with patience that pissed Jihoon off. But Hyeonjun had a system too.“Hyung, I’m not dealing with, like, a slipped disc when we fuck. Just hang on.” Jihoon hadn’t even mentioned his back issues on their first night but somehow Hyeonjun still knew. Asshole.
Those hands dragged inside him and Jihoon let out a pitchy moan, grabbing onto Hyeonjun’s shoulders. He needed to speak just to hear something other than his own, whiny voice. Fucking hell.
“How are your hands so soft? I thought you went to the gym.” He said, panting. Hyeonjun hummed, finally removing his fingers and leaving Jihoon empty and wanting.
“I moisturise after I work out.” He huffed, and it sounded like he was smiling, not that Jihoon was looking.
Hyeonjun’s other hand was gripping the sheets on the right. It flexed and Jihoon would’ve liked to believe he was showing off. It made his shameless drooling more warranted.
“Ready?”
Jihoon nodded but he was barely paying attention. He wasn’t overly vocal with other people, and definitely not on his own, but he couldn’t help it when Hyeonjun fucked him hard enough to see stars.
“Oh my god.” He groaned into Hyeonjun’s mouth. “Harder. Fuck.”
“Yeah? Wanna ask nicely?”
Hyeonjun was an asshole. A condescending, teasing asshole, but Jihoon cried out ‘please’ anyway. Hyeonjun’s low groan in his ear went straight to his dick. When he came, there was nothing on his mind but heat, white-hot pleasure and Hyeonjun’s mouth on his.
And sweet, wonderful silence.
When they flopped back into the pillows, Jihoon wasn’t sure what to expect next. Maybe to leave, maybe for Hyeonjun to ask him to, even though that’d never happened before. Instead, a cold baby wipe landed on his chest. He shivered.
“Good?” Hyeonjun asked, a sleazy grin barely visible in the moonlight.
Jihoon’s eyelids drooped. A long day bled into a long night and he couldn’t do anything but hum. It was late and he was exhausted, so when Hyeonjun rolled his eyes and offered to clean him up, Jihoon allowed it. They’d crawled under the covers in the meantime.
It was uncomfortably domestic.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah. Better than losing, at least.” Jihoon rolled his shoulders back, pulling the pillow from under him and throwing it on Hyeonjun who laughed and threw it on the floor. Fingers brushed up Jihoon’s arm and a soft sigh came from his left. Hyeonjun stared around his eyes. They fluttered more than usual, even without his glasses.
“Y’know, I was thinking… maybe we could do something else another time.”
Jihoon paused. “Like a date?”
“Or whatever, I don’t care.” Hyeonjun said with a little too much forced casualness. And Jihoon may have been fucked stupid but he wasn’t an idiot. If Hyeonjun liked him then that was… it was… something. Maybe not a problem, but it made things complicated, and Jihoon didn’t like ‘complicated’. He’d had enough ‘complicated’ to last him a lifetime.
“Maybe I should…”
“Don’t, sorry.” He said quickly, and Jihoon shifted under the covers. It was a lot hotter all of a sudden. He wanted to go home but the T1 mattresses were so comfortable. He pretended that was the reason he didn’t. “That’s not what I meant, just like, hanging out or something. As friends.”
“Aren’t we friends?”
“Dude…”
“We still ‘just coworkers’?” Hyeonjun asked, voice sleepy and spent. A hand brushed Jihoon’s hair and he flinched back, but Hyeonjun was just stretching. Jihoon blinked at the ceiling, more awake than he’d been a minute ago. He nodded and slipped out of bed.
Hyeonjun mumbled something that sounded like ‘sorry’ as Jihoon dressed quickly. Mid-February was freezing and T1 had a playoffs game tomorrow. They needed all the rest they could get, probably. Gen.G won that night and he needed someone to go to Brazil with.
That was mean. Jihoon wasn’t supposed to be mean after a massage, or sex, which meant his plan hadn’t worked. He whispered ‘sorry’ to Hyeonjun and flicked his hands in the cool air. They were itchy. It wasn’t like he could date Hyeonjun, though. Even if he liked him, which…
You shouldn’t give false hope, he reminded himself as a nasty voice in his head whispered, remember last time?
Jihoon shook the thought off. Choi Hyunjoon’s feelings weren’t his responsibility, not like the man in front of him. It was Jihoon’s fault they started this so it was his mess to clean up.
But that freedom was slipping through his fingers. If Hyeonjun knew him like the others then he wasn’t any different than Jaehyuk or Siwoo. Too close, too annoying, too realistic when Jihoon didn’t want realistic. He wanted whatever the hell this was. Sort of. Easy and casual. Something he didn’t have to think about but found himself doing anyway. If it weren’t Hyeonjun it would be… someone else. Maybe. Probably not. Jihoon wasn’t sure what he wanted, to be honest.
“Never mind, forget I said anything.”
“You're busy. We’re both busy.”
“I could make it work.”
No, Jihoon wanted to say, don’t you have any self respect? But this was his fault. Hyeonjun liked Jihoon because Jihoon let him, and he hated that he liked the attention. The back massages, the snarky texts, the sex, the tension whenever they were on stage together. It wasn’t a relationship but it was low stakes. It was nice. Jihoon needed that in the midst of every stressful match they played.
Hyeonjun pulled back and Jihoon, for the first time that night, felt the cold seep in. Maybe he liked the brief moments before they split apart for the night too.
“I-“ Jihoon hesitated, swallowing around a dry throat. “I can’t date you. I’m sorry.”
“Where the hell did that come from?” And for his part, Hyeonjun looked sincerely surprised. Not hurt or teary eyed or like a wounded puppy, just a guy that heard news he hadn’t been expecting.
“What?“
“It’s fine, hyung. You don’t have to date me if you don’t want to.”
Jihoon swallowed and stayed quiet. There was a reason he hadn’t used those words and it was because he couldn’t be sure they weren’t true. Hyeonjun was nice. He was funny and Jihoon liked to see him in LoL Park even if they didn’t talk. It was nice having a secret just for them, even if it didn’t mean anything. ‘Coworkers-with-benefits’ was what Jihoon had pitched, but he didn’t dislike Hyeonjun.
But there were plenty of other reasons not to get into relationships in their line of work, team dynamics were just one.
“I think you're cool, and I don’t mind just hooking up but it’d be nice to get to know you too, y’know? If you wanted to.”
“But what about—” Choi Hyunjoon. The name hung heavy in the air and Jihoon felt guilt surge through him. Maybe Jihoon wasn’t friends with him, but Hyeonjun was. They worked together, they were close, as far as he knew. Jihoon would ruin this the way he’d ruined their world's run. The way he’d ruined their 2023 roster. And 2022 as a result. Siwoo still hadn’t really forgiven him for that.
“What’s your beef with him anyway?” Hyeonjun asked, and Jihoon wanted to leave. He didn’t like talking about it, because if he explained then people would look at him weird and he didn’t have it in him to lie. Telling his teammates would’ve been better; either they didn’t know what happened or they did and they were stuck with Jihoon regardless. But T1’s jungler could leave whenever he wanted, break things off and go back to Hyunjoon. Objectively, it didn’t matter, but Jihoon was struck with the intense feeling of not wanting Hyeonjun to leave.
“We just don’t get along.” He said instead.
“He said you did, back in the day.”
He said that? Jihoon thought, biting his tongue. If it was true then what did he have to lose by explaining?
“We… fought at the end of 2023. I wasn’t nice about it.”
“What about?”
“He liked me.” Jihoon said simply, because that was all it boiled down to. “A lot. More than I liked him but I- it was never like that for me. He tried to tell me once, but I already knew. Everyone knew. And I got weird, I guess, and mean. I dunno. It fucked with the whole team dynamic and we bombed out at worlds.”
“Jihoon…”
Hyunjoon’s voice cracked, fidgeting with his hands and Jihoon fought the urge to scream. They’d just gotten back from their celebratory dinner. Everyone else went back to the dorms but Jihoon stayed, and if Jihoon stayed then of course…
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Jihoon knew how mean he sounded. Snappish and rude when they all should’ve been in good spirits. Hyunjoon looked like he’d been slapped but it didn’t stop him. It didn’t help. So Hyunjoon spilled his guts in the empty practice room while Jihoon wished he was anywhere else.
Part of him felt guilty in the moment, but mostly he was exhausted. Tired of dealing with feelings he didn’t want anything to do with, that he had to pretend to care about because if he didn’t then he’d be the asshole.
Hyunjoon was silent when he finished, eyes wet and nearly vibrating behind his glasses. It should’ve made Jihoon upset, he knew, to see a friend in distress but he just didn’t care. He’d spent too long tiptoeing around his fucking top laner and he was so tired. It was supposed to be a good night. They’d won. So why were they still doing this?
“Oh.” He said, because he didn’t know what else to say. “I know.”
“You… what?”
“I mean, I’m not interested. Sorry.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Obviously. That’s why he said it. Because Jihoon knew it would end their conversation faster than letting Hyunjoon continue. He wanted to go to bed.
Hyunjoon’s face crumpled and tears spilled over his cheeks. It stirred nothing in him. Jihoon hated that it stirred nothing in him. Hated that he cared more about that than the man crying in front of him.
“That sucks dude.” Hyeonjun said, but he didn’t know how bad it was. How much Jihoon only half-regretted it. He should’ve been nicer, but wouldn’t that just drag it out? Better to give Hyunjoon someone to be upset at other than himself, even if it hurt really, really badly. That was the justification Jihoon came up with a few days after, just in case anyone ever asked. They didn’t.
Even now, three years later, he still hadn’t told anyone how that night ended, exactly. That was Hyunjoon’s business and Jihoon wouldn’t expose his own emotional deficiencies if he didn’t have to. Besides, it was years ago. He’d gotten better. Mostly.
“You’re such an asshole.” Hyunjoon choked out, the pain in his voice was grating.
“You didn’t have to say anything.”
“You could’ve said anything!” He yelled, Jihoon winced. “Literally anything would’ve been better than ‘I know’. You think I didn’t know what you were going to say?”
“If you did, you wouldn’t have said anything.”
That was the only point Jihoon actively regretted the words that came from his mouth. The last pieces of hope drained away and Hyunjoon just looked devastated. The end of the conversation didn’t feel like the relief it should have. Jihoon shifted uncomfortably and left Hyunjoon alone in the dark practice rooms.
Hyunjoon couldn’t help liking him as much as Jihoon couldn’t help hating it. Once those feelings became impossible to ignore they finally admitted that they just didn’t work. Not even professionally. Not even with a Worlds trophy on the line.
“You gonna get weird with me?” Hyeonjun asked.
“Do you like me?” Jihoon asked and held his breath. He didn’t know what answer we wanted, but it wasn’t what he got.
“It’s kinda hard not to like you.” He shrugged. “I’m living with it.”
Hyeonjun was so relaxed. Almost lazy with his words, like he didn’t care about anything but still managed to unwind Jihoon from the tangle he’d found himself in. Tangled muscles, tangled mind. It all smoothed out at the end of the night. Jihoon couldn’t lose that. He couldn’t.
“What about you, hyung? You like me?” Hyeonjun dragged his words playfully, like he could pass it off as a joke if Jihoon said no. He should’ve said no. It would’ve been so easy to leave this where it was, to not get involved with messy feelings or stupid, hard relationships. But Jihoon lost tonight and his mind was still foggy. And he thought Hyeonjun’s dopey smile was cute.
“I don’t know.” He answered instead, and Hyeonjun fell silent at that.
“Well, we could try, hyung. If you want. No pressure.”
Wouldn’t that hurt you? Wouldn’t you hate me? But Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to ask either question. If Hyeonjun hadn’t thought it through then Jihoon wouldn’t be held responsible for the fallout.
“It would be a bad idea.”
“Dude, I don’t give a shit.” Hyeonjun huffed a laugh. “You think too much. If you like me and I like you, who cares? You’ll figure it out with him and if you don’t then…” He shrugged again. Jihoon felt his arms shift on top of the blanket. “Whatever. As long as you’re not an asshole in front of everyone, I won’t make you be friends or anything. It’s not like we can’t date because of Hyunjoon hyung, there’s no way he’d let that happen.”
“I won’t have time for you.”
“Dude, I barely have time for me. Text every couple days, don’t sleep with anyone else, it’s not crazy.”
He made it sound so easy. Jihoon wondered if it was as difficult for Hyeonjun to say as it was for him to hear. Practiced ease wasn’t something Jihoon was good at fully naked. Something about literal and metaphorical vulnerability or whatever.
“I was really mean.”
“Yeah.” Hyeonjun said, blinking slowly. “He did kinda tell me, once. Not the crazy details but like, the main stuff. He said he confessed and you went ‘I know’.”
Jihoon winced. In hindsight, not his proudest moment. “Yeah, I did.”
“But I mean, he didn’t sound like he hated you. Just kinda sad.”
“I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”
Hyeonjun stared at him in the dark. Blinking slowly and said: “Yeah, me neither.”
Jihoon took a sharp breath. That… hurt. More than he thought it would. He wasn’t familiar with that feeling and he didn’t like it. At all.
“But you’re better now, right? Less assholish?”
Jihoon found himself nodding. He wasn’t sure how true it was but he wanted it to be, at least a little. “That’s why I’m here. So I’m not a dick to my teammates.”
“What, ‘cause of all your pent up testosterone?” Hyeonjun goaded, laughing silently when Jihoon nodded. It took a lot of effort not to goad back. His cheeks were flaming hot. “What did you do before me?”
Jihoon’s skin, somehow, flushed even hotter. He was grateful that Hyeonjun couldn’t see him in the dark. “I had a system.”
“What kinda system?”
He stayed silent and Hyeonjun didn’t push. It was probably obvious, and embarrassing enough to save himself from the conversation.
Despite the air-con whirring above them, Jihoon was still so hot. He and Hyeonjun weren’t even touching, but they could. If either of them shifted too far toward the middle their skin would brush. Jihoon’s right side tingled in anticipation. They hadn’t cuddled since the first night and that was only because Jihoon fell asleep before it happened. He woke up warm and pleasantly light-headed. It was embarrassing how long he pretended to be asleep.
Jihoon didn’t like it, but when a tentative hand wrapped around his wrist, he tried not to lock up. For Hyeonjun’s sake. His hands were soft but his grip was loose, so if Jihoon wanted to shake him off he could. Easily. Jihoon kept his arm still. It wasn’t so bad, once he got used to it.
“Y’know, you can stay if y’want. I wouldn’t mind.” Hyeonjun drawled, yawning beside Jihoon's ear. His grip loosened, then tightened again. Jihoon’s arm tingled.
“Wouldn’t it be weird?”
“Or you can leave. Whatever.”
But Jihoon, for the first time, didn’t want to. So he turned on his side, pressed his wrist to the blanket so Hyeonjun wouldn’t let go, and ignored his tired smile while they fell asleep. The rest of T1 was a problem for the morning.