Chapter Text
“Doesn’t this just bring back a whole lot of nostalgia?” Hyunjin murmurs to Seungmin, just loud enough for him to hear. His eyebrow twitches but he doesn’t reply. “Ah, I’m so sad. I can’t believe my favourite rival is ignoring me. Just when I thought we were friends.” Hyunjin whines.
“Shut up, idiot.” Seungmin says just as the referee signals for them to bow. “But I’m just so excited for this match!” Hyunjin continues.
The moment the referee shouts “Hajime!”, Seungmin goes right in for the kill, charging forward and locking his grip on Hyunjin’s lapel, grabbing his sleeve in a pistol grip, instantly getting into position. He lets out a muffled yelp, yanking his arm down in a vain effort for Seungmin to relinquish his grip, but it’s already too late. With a slight grunt, he pulls Hyunjin forward, twisting his hips, and flips the taller boy right onto the mat in one smooth motion.
“Waza-ari!”The referee calls. Shit, Seungmin groans internally. Using the split-second of time he’d gained from disorientating his opponent, he rushes to pull Hyunjin into a tight arm lock, nails scrabbling on the mat. “Game over.” He grunts, feeling his fingers dig into the rough material of his gi. “Osaekomi!”
“Twenty!”The crowd yells, counting along to the mechanical timer on the wall. “Nineteen!”
Seungmin furrows his brows, feeling Hyunjin twitch under his grip, and suddenly he feels a pair of legs clamp around his torso. Before he can react, Hyunjin bridges off the ground, flipping Seungmin over, head-over-heels, and swapping their positions in a matter of milliseconds. “You really…think I’d give up…that easily?” Hyunjin pants, face flushed from exertion. “Toketa!”The referee announces. “Osaekomi!”
“Twenty!”
He hears Changbin scream at him to get up, to use Hyunjin’s weak spot and pin him under again. Get up or stay down, make up your mind, he thinks irately. Struggling, he reaches an arm up to grab the back of Hyunjin’s collar, but the taller boy presses his arms down, using his (unfairly) longer legs to clamp Seungmin’s legs down so he can’t move at all.
“…Eight!”
In a last-ditch effort to break his grip, Seungmin jams his chin down into Hyunjin’s shoulder, and Hyunjin’s grip loosens slightly from surprise, before quickly tightening again, preventing Seungmin from sliding out. Seungmin gasps for air, eyes squeezing shut as he attempts to scissors his legs upwards, but the hold Hyunjin has on him is unrelenting.
“One!”
“Ippon!” Hyunjin slackens his grip, and Seungmin lets his head fall back to the ground, exhaling. “I win.” Hyunjin wheezes. “You win.” Seungmin acknowledges, propping himself up, and offering a hand to Hyunjin. They stand up together, bow at each other and walk off the mat. Seungmin offers a slight smile to the brown-haired referee, and he smiles back.
The moment Seungmin shrugs off his gi, there’s a black-haired blur running towards him, and he lets out an unattractive squawk as Hyunjin wraps his arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. “I won!” He repeats, voice smug. “I’m aware.” Seungmin sighs, hugging him back, fingers absently combing through his dark hair, flicking pieces of lint and dirt out.
“Even though you cheated, I still won!”
“I didn’t cheat. It was a technical manoeuvre.” Seungmin defends. “You know I’m ticklish! I know Changbin keeps telling you to take advantage of my weak spots, but he doesn’t mean for you to jab your pointy chin into my shoulder.” Hyunjin wails.
“Just a week ago, you were struggling with that bridging technique and now you’re suddenly an expert at it?” Seungmin says suspiciously, and his boyfriend raises his head only to wink at him.
“But anyway, you have to uphold your end of the bargain since I won,” Hyunjin insists. “Whatever. It’s stupid anyway.” Seungmin accedes reluctantly, letting go of Hyunjin when he sees Felix make obscene gestures at them from the audience stands.
-
Seungmin feels a sharp poke in his side, and side eyes his boyfriend, standing on the step above him. Hyunjin says nothing, only winking at him. The VIP guest finishes his speech and the crowd breaks into polite applause.
Taking a deep breath, Seungmin clenches his fist by his sides. Well, if I’m going to publicly embarrass myself in front of millions of viewers on national television, at least it’s the truth. Seungmin steels himself.
“I LOVE HWANG HYUNJIN, MY BOYFRIEND AND THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!” Seungmin yells, and about hundred cameras and a few thousand over pair of eyes in the stadium turn to look at him. There’s absolute, pin-drop silence for a second, and Seungmin swears the entire stadium can hear the too-loud thudding of his heart. And then someone (Jisung, probably) whoops, and another person (definitely Felix) starts clapping , and soon the entire stadium is in an uproar, clapping and screaming their names.
Seungmin huffs, face redder than ever before, turning to Hyunjin. “You happy now?” He says, and Hyunjin sniffles, overemotional. “Extremely.”
-
“By the way, I love you too.” Hyunjin says as they’re leaving the locker room, bag slung over his shoulder.
He sees Seungmin sputter, tips of his ears burning. “Take your time, baby. We’re in no rush.” Hyunjin teases, interlinking their pinkies together. “Shut up.” Seungmin grumbles.
They walk down the staircase leading out of the stadium, and Seungmin pushes the heavy wooden doors open, cold air blowing into the stairway. “I love you too.” He murmurs, soft and barely there but Hyunjin hears it nonetheless, a pleasant warmth settling in his chest. The feeling is different from when he displays his affection for Seungmin publicly, watching the other boy’s expression turn an adorable shade of pink. He decides that he likes this soft, comfortable feeling of unadulterated adoration more than anything else—even more than the happiness when he executes a throw flawlessly, more than the feeling of victory when he wins a match.
“It’s your turn to drive.” Seungmin says hurriedly. Hyunjin nods, hand reaching into his pocket to take out the car keys. As he does, his hand brushes against something velvety and square, and fights to restrain his smile.
Soon, he thinks.