Chapter Text
Hockey came naturally to Chongyun. Ever since he first started skating, he knew that he wanted to play ice hockey. He loved the sound of his skates sliding across fresh ice. Loved being able to focus solely on one thing: Getting the puck into the goal. When he was on the ice, nothing else mattered. There were no other thoughts in his head. And after a long afternoon of practice, he loved peeling off his protective gear and feeling the cool air of the ice rink on his skin.
Lately though, there is one more thing that he has discovered that he loves about hockey practice. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 6:30pm, while the rest of his team hits the showers and gets ready to head out, Chongyun waits behind. He takes a seat on a bench in the penalty box, and tries to look busy on his phone. In reality though, he continues to steal glances at a young man who takes the ice.
The ice skater seems to be about Chongyun’s age. They are around the same height, though this man has a more slender build. He has dark hair that appears blue in the harsh lights of the ice rink. His golden eyes look like pools of honey. They are vibrant and piercing, and easily recognizable from across the room.
Chongyun watches him dance around the rink every chance that he gets. He seems weightless as he performs perfect axles, loops, and salchows, terms that the left wing did not know until recently. He is fast and spins in circles that Chongyun believes would make any other person nauseous. He keeps a pair of headphones in, seemingly dancing to music that no one else can hear. And the ice skater continues like that for nearly an hour and a half, until he is ushered out by the zamboni driver when closing time nears.
A double axel. A triple lutz. A footwork sequence. A counter-turn into free foot. A single loop. A triple axel. Another footwork sequence. A camel spin, into a Biellmann spin, into a layback. Check and pose.
Chongyun has this routine memorized. He has watched the figure skater practice it over and over again. Each time, he impresses the hockey player with his inhumanly fast turns, flexibility, and poise. But it never seems to be good enough for the young ice dancer. And so he pulls out his smartphone, clicks a few buttons, adjusts his headphones, and starts from the top.
A double axel. A triple lutz. A footwork sequence. A counter-turn into free foot. A single loop. A triple axel. Another footwork sequence. A camel spin, into a Biellmann spin, into a layback. Check and pose.
The ice rink will close soon. All of Chongyun’s teammates have showered, packed up, and left. Even the staff are beginning to clean up for the night. But the figure skater does not stop. He continues to practice his routine, wanting to make use of all of the time that he has.
A double axel. A triple lutz. A footwork sequence. A counter-turn into free foot. A single loop-
He falls out of his triple axel.
Chongyun stands up from his seat, eyes wide, worry and a feeling of dread set into his stomach. He has never seen this man fall on the ice before.
The figure skater hit the ice hard but despite the look of pain on his face, he is quick to roll over onto his knees, then hurry to his feet. He brushes shredded ice off of his tights and shorts. And thankfully, seems no worse for wear.
It is then that he looks over to Chongyun. For the first time in a month, their eyes meet and Chongyun is breathless. He feels his whole body heat up and he quickly looks away, pulling out his phone as he sits back down, trying to appear interested in anything besides the young skater at the far side of the rink.
For a moment, Chongyun thinks he has gotten away with it, that he has not been caught staring at this young man.
But the quiet sound of blades on ice approaching, and a soft, playful voice tells him he is not so lucky.
“You know, if you hockey players didn’t ruin the ice, I’d be far less likely to fall.”
Chongyun’s face burns as he finally looks up, only to see the figure skater lounging against the wall of the rink. He leans against the barrier, resting his chin on his hands. A big grin is on his face, an easy way to signal that he was not really mad about their abuse of the ice. But still, Chongyun is speechless as to what to say.
“Sorry,” he gets out slowly. He feels like a fool, sitting in the penalty box in just a pair of socks, jeans, and a white and blue jersey, his gear pushed off to the side. And was ‘sorry’ really the best he could come up with? He wanted to talk to this man for nearly a month now but never thought he would really work up the courage to do so.
“I suppose I will forgive you, Chongyun.”
“You know my name?” his mouth is dry.
“Is that really so odd? After all, we have been coming to the same ice rink since the beginning of the year. I have often heard your name called by your teammates.” The smaller boy waits for a response before continuing. “My name is Xingqiu, by the way,” he says with a bright smile. “And I don’t usually fall.”
“I know,” Chongyun says without thinking. Great, now this boy knows that he has been watching him for much longer than just today.
But Xingqiu does not seem to mind. He keeps a soft smile on his face and after a moment, reaches up to remove his left earbud. “Here,” he says, holding out the small air-pod to the hockey player. “This is my short program piece for regionals. If you're going to watch, it’s better with the music.”
“Are you ever going to come skate with me?”
Chongyun is taken off guard by the question. For the better part of three months, he has sat on the sidelines to watch Xingqiu practice his routines. He has gotten used to silently staring on, one earbud in as he watches his new friend work through different routines.
“I would slow you down,” Chongyun says after a minute of consideration. He never once considered sharing the ice with the other man.
“Don’t hockey players need to be fast too?” Xingqiu spins slowly on both feet at the side of the rink closest to Chongyun. “If you’re worried about it, I can skate slower for you.”
“Don’t you need to practice your routines?”
“Well,” The ice dancer starts again, lifting one leg up behind him in a stretch as he rationalizes through the question. “Men’s regionals were last weekend. I came in first for the long program, by the way," he tacks on with a proud grin, "And I have already scored high enough in my preliminaries to make it to nationals, but those aren’t for another four months. That’s more than enough time to choreograph and practice a new routine. Don’t you think I deserve a break, Chongyun?” At his friend’s silence, Xingqiu pouts, leaning against the board between them. “I’m starting to think that you don’t want to skate with me.”
Chongyun knows that Xingqiu is trying to guilt him into skating with him. But it works. Within a minute, the hockey player is pulling his skates on and stepping back onto the ice.
Skating without all of his equipment is a rare occurrence nowadays. He feels so much lighter, more free. He can feel the cold against his arms and his face and relishes in the way that his hair, normally damp and sweaty under a helmet, blows out of his face as he makes a loop around the rink.
“Oh wow. You’re actually quite good, aren’t you?” Xingqiu teases him with a smile. “And here I was starting to think that Hockey players couldn’t really skate.” He turns on the ice to keep his eyes on Chongyun before gliding along to skate beside him.
“We can skate,” Chongyun says a bit defensively, “We just don’t make it look as pretty.”
“I don’t know how you could with those giant skates.”
“Are they that much bigger?” He stares down at his feet for a moment, having never noticed the differences before.
“Yeah, look,” Xingqiu lifts his leg up, extending it in front of him as they skate and Chongyun cannot help but think he is being a show off.
“We don’t have that front bit either,” The hockey player observes, “What’s that for?”
“Wait really?” Xingqiu asks, having never noticed himself. “That’s a toe pick. So we can do jumps. Lift up your skate, I want to see!”
Chongyun tries to mimic the smaller man’s position but stumbles and quickly puts both his feet back on the ice, pulling a laugh from Xingqiu.
“You can’t skate on one foot?” Xingqiu grabs a hold of Chongyun’s shoulder to keep him stable through his laughter. “Can you skate backwards?”
Chongyun huffs quietly at the other man’s teasing tone, his face red in embarrassment. He quickly pivots to skate in front of Xingqiu, still facing the ice skater. “When we’re on defense we skate backwards all the time.” His skates hit the ice hard, keeping in front of Xingqiu with quick strokes of his blades, whereas the figure skater uses long and quiet strides to keep the pace.
“I guess I really don’t know that much about hockey,” Xingqiu admits. “I never really had an interest in it until recently.”
“What happened recently?”
“I met you.” Xingqiu smiles. He does not wait for a response before turning off in a different direction and sliding into a spin. One hand goes up over his head, delicately falling to the side, while the other wraps around his body. He does a few slow turns before pulling his arms in closer to gain speed. Finally, he glides out of the turn, skating backwards and away from the stunned hockey player.
Chongyun watches the spin with a dazed expression. In that moment he realizes that he is in love. Never has he seen anything more beautiful than Xingqiu while he is in his element. His face takes on a soft expression, lips slightly parted, his shoulder relaxed and body fluid. He looks like something out of a dream.
“I want to come watch one of your games,” Xingqiu says finally, calling out to Chongyun from across the rink.
In just a minute, they are skating side by side again.
“We’ve got a match on Saturday. I can get you a free ticket if you want.”
“Get me a ticket then." Xingqiu grins. He moves his hand up to loop through the space under Chongyun's arm, holding onto his bicep as they skate side by side. "Maybe I’ll even let you take me to dinner afterwards.”
Chongyun’s breath catches in his throat and he physically feels his face go hot. Was his crush that apparent? Were his feelings reciprocated? He had a hundred questions but was unable to ask any of them. “Maybe?” Confusion is evident in his voice.
Xingqiu laughs at the hockey player’s question. “If you win,” he adds on with a smile.