Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Seokmin is close to tears. Hell, he’s barely holding them back, looking desperately at the man in front of him. 

“Doc, please, there’s gotta be something you can do.” He’s begging and he knows it, but he can’t even care. It’s his career on the line, hell, it’s his life practically, and he can’t find any humility in him.

“Listen, Seokmin, I’ve done everything that I could,” the man says softly, putting his laptop down so that he can look at Seokmin fully. At least his bedside manner isn’t complete shit. “You’re lucky that it’s only your peripherals that are damaged. Based on what we saw when you first came in, we thought you’d be permanently blind.”

“There’s really nothing?” His voice is soft and choked up, a promising NHL contract after a premier Olympic debut fizzing away from the tips of his fingers, papers unsigned and lost into the disappointment of a career ending injury. The doctor must sense this as his whole demeanor softens, a sad smile blooming on his features. 

“No, but there was that guy, Willie O’Ree, he played blind in one eye, told nobody. Go to try outs, see what happens.” Seokmin nods, not bothering to let hope flare too brightly in his chest as he forces a smile at the man.

“Thanks Doc.”

“Don’t mention it, not until you get signed.”

Seokmin goes out in flames at tryouts. It’s not surprising, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. 

Mingyu holds him while he cries.

—

“Don’t say a word,” Jihoon hisses, hoping that it comes out sounding like it’s out of anger rather than pain. Seungcheol heeds the warning for once, but the clear pity in his eyes tells Jihoon all he needs to know. 

He’s fucked. Royally this time.

Had he been pushing it too far? Yes, yes, a million times yes. He should have listened to Seungcheol, calmed down, taken a break from the ice for a few days or even weeks. But instead, in all of his infinite wisdom and glory, he decided to take out his anger at his boyfriend (well, now ex -boyfriend, the cheating bastard) on the ice, doing risky moves that his coach would have a heart attack if he even heard Jihoon had tried attempting with minimal build up. He’s just lucky Seungcheol had stumbled upon him rather than anyone else. 

Gentle hands start to help him to his feet, though Seungcheol doesn’t lift him beyond a mere foot of the ground before he’s setting him back down, whipping out his phone immediately as Jihoon focuses on breathing. 

“You gotta go to the hospital Ji. I’m sorry.” Though he pretends his tears are from pain, Jihoon has never been so sure that he’s finally done it. May his stubbornness be damned because Lee Jihoon may have shattered his own damn career. 

—

Seokmin would thank God for Mingyu any day. They learned to play together, formed a camaraderie due to their shared language and fumbling attempts at most others at their premiere prodigy player hockey camp. (It was pretentious, that’s for damn sure, but Seokmin’s parents were glad to let him loose on a slab of ice with his au pair if it meant he wouldn’t ask when they’d be coming home any more.) They still talk shit about people in front of their faces, making sure they pronounce their names right before going back to what’s usually rapid-fire Korean just to piss everyone off. It’s pretty fun, and most of Mingyu’s AHL teammates have accepted Seokmin as a surrogate player. They’ll call him up to skate with them or practice shooting or get food or even that one time that he was invited to help host someone’s niece’s birthday party. 

It’s how he’s ended up where he is; sharing an apartment with Mingyu while working at a cafe for some extra hours while he teaches a hockey centric learn to skate program and helps coach a peewee hockey league. It’s not all that lucrative but Seokmin doesn’t fully mind. He loves the kids and likes the free coffee and pastries that the cafe provides. Plus the flexible hours helps him to catch most of Mingyu’s games, and even if it does leave a stinging in his chest, he wouldn’t miss them for the world. 

“Hey, Skates,” who could only be Jeonghan starts, still calling him by his high school nickname unlike almost everyone else. At least it had lost the embarrassment as the years went on. 

“Hyung, hey.” Jeonghan offers him a grin, borderline predatory, and nods towards the empty rink behind him, skates hanging off his shoulder. 

“You got anywhere you need to be?” Seokmin feels his brows furrowed as he thinks, eventually shrugging as he leans against the wall. 

“I have time.”

“Good, ‘cuz I had Mac grab a pair of figure skates your size,” he gestures to a nearby bench where a pair of skates lie, “and I need to check some lesson plans with the kids. You up for it?” 

“No jumps?” Jeonghan’s grin is mischievous at best, but Seokmin still believes him when he shakes his head. 

“Not today. Kids just started last week, and it’s just learn to skate this time, not intro to figure, don’t worry.” Seokmin shrugs once more, sitting beside Jeonghan as they lace up. He’s been doing this for awhile, bored with his inability to really practice beyond the for fun weekly adult league he’s in, and Jeonghan proved very quickly that his lack of vision wasn’t really a problem for this kind of skating. At least he didn’t have to spend every moment panicking that someone was about to throttle him into the boards and end his career again simply because he couldn’t see them coming. (The guys in the league are great about it. They don’t tend to check much anyways, but they almost never go for Seokmin when they do. If they do try, someone always yells a warning out for him, opposing team or not.) 

“So,” Jeonghan starts and Seokmin is instantly suspicious, following the trail that Jeonghan carved in the ice all the same. 

“So?” Jeonghan pulls a sharp curve and Seokmin obediently follows - apparently it’s turning week at learn to skate. 

“I might have a way to get you back to competing.” Seokmin’s brows furrow, even as he thoughtlessly picks a skate off of the ground to mirror Jeonghan in front of him. 

“Hyung, please.” His words are tired the way they always are when they talk about Seokmin competing again, the stinging in his chest back full throttle. He’s gonna have to go berserk on a net tonight to try and quell it, it seems. Good thing Mr. Yoon loves him and doesn’t mind him staying after close for a little while while he works on paperwork. 

“Sorry Seokmin-ah. You just seem so sad lately and I don’t know how to help.” The smile that Seokmin manages to conjure up is still a little off but it’s closer to the real thing, Jeonghan’s shoulders sagging with its appearance. 

“Thank you hyung, and I mean it. I’m happy where I am now, I promise.” With a final sigh Jeonghan relents, and much to Seokmin’s chagrin he sets off for a jump. Seokmin doesn’t even bother to watch him jump, instead skating towards the door and offering Jeonghan a wave once he looks back. 

“You’re leaving?”

“You’re jumping. I don’t wanna be sore tomorrow.” Jeonghan considers it before he shrugs, calling out a goodbye before he sets off, skating around the rink the way that someone who only grew up on the ice can. It’s a routine that Seokmin often sees him set off into, and after he spent the first few times scrutinizing the unfamiliar moves, he realized it was for pairs. Jeonghan is holding his arms out for lifts and for a partner that isn’t there, jumping in sync with a ghost. Seeing him do it again makes the ache in Seokmin’s chest soften.

They’re all missing something. The ice makes sure of it, makes your heart shatter rather than just break.

—

Months pass before anyone lets Jihoon back on the ice again. He doesn’t get it, or at least he pretends he doesn’t. Jihoon wants nothing more than to skate again, to compete. He wasn’t ready to retire when he went down, and he still isn’t. Even if competing again seems to get further and further away.

“Jihoon, it’s time to rest.” Jihoon ignores his coach, cutting across the ice in such a myriad of twists and turns that if he were any less used to it he’d be hurling. 

“Jihoon.” Let it be known that Dimitriy Ivanov is not a patient man, and Jihoon is clearly testing that. He doesn’t really care though, he needs to compete again, and to compete he needs to be able to nail his jumps.

“Jihoon, if you so much as attempt a triple…” Ivanov practically growls and Jihoon can’t help but to sigh.

“Where’s Sofia? She’s always nicer to me.” Ivanov scoffs and by some miracle Jihoon does listen to his coach, doing a double axel with only the barest bit of a wobble on the landing. His leg still hurts, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it used to be; a sharp pain reduced into a dull and bitter ache. A reminder really of how he almost lost everything in the blink of an eye. He skates to where Ivanov stands all the same, slowing down as he goes but making sure that he retains enough speed to throw at least a little snow at his coach. 

“Happy Ivan?” The man in question shrugs, but Jihoon doesn’t miss the relief in his expression all the same.

“The axel is coming along well.” Jihoon scoffs, digging his toepick into the ice in front of him. 

“It’s still only a double,” Jihoon mumbles, petulant. 

“Jihoon, the doctor didn’t think you would ever skate again. Be happy with what you are capable of, I beg you.” Jihoon sighs once more, taking his skate guards from Ivanov without comment and slipping them on, making his way to the nearby benches and to his bag. He must be limping or something with the way that Seungcheol practically appears in the doorway of the rink, his Jihoon’s Hurt alarm sounding, eyes wide and worried as he looks between Ivanov and Jihoon carefully.

“Am I not allowed to want more?” Ivanov shrugs when Jihoon looks back at him, his expression kind even if his body language isn’t.

“Sure you can. But you can’t forget what you’ve been able to do either.” Jihoon heaves out another sigh, shaking his head before he stands.

“I’m guessing you’re canceling practice for the rest of the day.” Ivanov nods simply, raising an eyebrow at Jihoon as if he’s waiting for him to try and argue. “What about tomorrow?”

“No morning practice,” Ivanov says simply and Jihoon sighs.

“Alright. I’ll try not to go too wild and crazy tonight then.” As Ivanov laughs heartily Jihoon finds himself smiling, his bag tossed over his shoulder as he waves. Seungcheol falls into step beside him, and once Jihoon finally spares him a glance it’s to find him grinning like a fool.

“No practice?” He asks, even if Jihoon knows he already heard.

“No. Why? Where are you taking me?” Seungcheol’s grin turns a bit more knowing, his eyes gleaming as he shakes his head. 

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment. Shower, change, put on something nice. You, Youngie and I are going out.” Jihoon scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I swear to God if we end up at that club again, I’ll slit your Achilles with your own skate.” Seungcheol squawks, a hand pressed to his sternum as he blinks at Jihoon with what seems like genuine shock.

“The complete and utter lack of disrespect!” Seungcheol all but cries and Jihoon has to bite back his laugh, shaking his head fondly at Seungcheol even as he teases back.

“I’ll still call you hyung in front of your mom if that’s what you’re worried about. I could never disappoint Mrs. Choi by telling her her son is a menace.” Jihoon’s cackling so hard by the end of it that he can’t even care that Seungcheol smacks at him. He forgot how easy it is to tease Seungcheol, both of them having ended up so busy with practice and their own professions that it was easy to grow apart. But here he is, his oldest friend and practically his brother, out from his own sport due to an injury. The unfortunate camaraderie does something insane to ease the ache of his bones. 

It’s nice to know that he doesn’t have to work back up to the top by himself, to have his beloved hyung by his side. Jihoon honestly doesn’t know what he would do without him.

—

Seokmin is sitting at the bar nursing a beer as Mingyu seems to make a fool of himself. The younger man dragged him out after he saw the look on Seokmin’s face when he had gotten back from the rink, knowing that something had happened even if Seokmin refused to tell him. But Mingyu has always been Mingyu, and so the oaf saw someone he thought was hot and went on a journey to impress them. If Seokmin had felt better he would have done the same, but instead he doesn’t mind sitting at that bar and watching a random NHL game on the screen.

“Excuse me,” someone says from his left, terrifying him in the process and making him jump. When he turns to look, the guy that had approached him looks sheepish, an apologetic and guilty expression lighting up his features. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Seokmin can only shrug, forcing a smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” He takes a swig of his beer, annoyed to find it empty, and calls over the bartender to get a second. After thanking her he finally looks back up at the TV, letting out a heavy sigh when he realizes someone had scored when he wasn’t looking.

“What, you rootin’ for the Jets?” Seokmin turns to find the guy that had scared him still next to him, an inquisitive expression on his face. Seokmin knows that look, knows that the guy recognizes him but isn’t entirely sure how. He’s admittedly tired of stringing these conversations out, waiting for them to either realize or let their curiosity get the best of them and ask, so instead of answering the question he shoves his hand towards the stranger. 

“Seokmin.” The guy grins as he claps Seokmin’s hand back, firmly shaking it as though he were at a job interview.

“Seungcheol.” The name and face together ring a bell, and suddenly a terrible boarding call makes its way to the front of his mind. That’s why the guy, Seungcheol, must know him. They were supposed to play together.

“How’s PT going?” Seungcheol’s eyes widen a fraction before they settle again, and he finally moves to sit next to Seokmin and order something for himself. Seokmin’s watching the game again, wincing as a guy on the Jets bobbles the puck, when Seungcheol finally responds.

“Slow but steady. We’re hopeful I’ll be back for preseason, even if it’s in a no-contact jersey and practice only.” Seokmin turns towards him and smiles, clapping Seungcheol’s shoulder gently. (The softness doesn’t go unobserved or unappreciated, gratefulness flaring through his eyes in a moment.) “How about you? How’re the eyes?”

Seokmin almost wishes he could say I told you so. No one recognizes him for anything other than the hit that ruined his life, and when they do the conversation rarely even centers around him. Most of the time people either want to talk shit about the guy that hit him or the refs of the game, but Seokmin’s tired of all of it. Those people never care to hear that some of the first people to visit him in the hospital were the refs and that guy.

“Forever visually impared.” Seungcheol lets out a soft breath, his expression full of pity and remorse. 

“How was the adjustment period? You kinda fell off the face of the Earth after that game.” Seokmin feels one of his eyebrows shoot up. As far as he knew, he and Seungcheol have never even met before, it doesn’t really make sense that he would be following him even if they were potential teammates. Seungcheol seems to notice his confusion and smiles, patting Seokmin’s hand before he points back to the game. Seokmin looks just in time to see the Jets make an insane goal. Instantly, Seokmin is ready to befriend Seungcheol come hell or high water.

“It was rough,” he finally starts in response, licking his lips in a desperate attempt to keep from chugging his beer in an instant. Seokmin’s been working on healthy coping mechanisms, but it doesn’t mean that they always work. “It took what felt like forever for everything to be restored. Well, I mean, everything that could.” He’s scratching the lip of his bottle now with his nail, eyes on the bar top while the game is on a TV timeout. Looking at Seungcheol right now is just not a possibility.

“You’re not returning to pro then?” Seokmin shakes his head instantly, that same old sting burning bright in his sternum again. 

“I tried. It didn’t go well.” When he finally does meet Seungcheol’s eyes it’s to see an understanding smile, one without a hint of pity or judgement. 

“That’s impressive. I don’t think I could ever get back on the ice if that was me. It’s bad enough for me as it is.” The words make Seokmin smile, turning to the TV again when Seungcheol nods to it. It’s clear that even if Seokmin hadn’t explicitly expressed it, Seungcheol still figured out what part of his vision is gone. (It’s not like he could have read about it anywhere; Seokmin kept the information tight to his chest after it had happened in the hopes that his vision loss wasn’t so debilitating that it ruined his career. A pipe dream, sure, but a pipe dream that bred him privacy.)

“It was a bit rough in the beginning, yeah,” Seokmin agrees, back to casually sipping his beer and tapping against the bartop idly. “But I coach some peewees now, teach learn to skate. And there’s this adult league around here that the guys are great at.” Seungcheol hums in curiosity.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I told them what happened and everything, so they’re really good about any checks my way. It took them watching the video from the Olympics and a check my like second game there for them to fully believe me, but it’s been good, great even, since then.” He turns to see Seungcheol wince, his expression understandably full of pity.

“That’s shitty.” Seokmin shrugs with a smile, turning back to the game as he blindly pats at Seungcheol’s hand, proud that he somehow manages to hit it. 

“He purposely didn’t go in hard and no one got hurt. It took a lot more convincing them that I was okay than me that it wouldn’t happen again, at least not without warning, which was nice. It’s nice to be part of a team again, to play again.” They’re quiet for a little while, making passing comments on plays and bad decisions, easily falling into a friendship as if they had known each other for forever. Seokmin’s about to ask for Seungcheol’s number and wish him a good night so that he can find Mingyu and clean up whatever mess he’s bound to have caused when a rather short guy stomps up to them and starts cussing Seungcheol out in Korean.

“Hyung, you bastard hyung. You leave for a minute to get drinks and never return. What are you, a father?” Seokmin has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, keeping his eyes pointedly on the TV, pretending to care about the game and not the new firecracker nearby. “So suddenly I’m stuck with a less than fuckin’ sober Kwon Soonyoung, which, news flash! Is an uncontrollable ball of horniness and excitement that no man can withstand.” The guy is seething now, and it’s taking everything in Seokmin’s power not to either laugh or look at him. “And for what, to flirt with a random motherfucker?!” 

“Jihoon-ah,” Seungcheol starts softly, but Jihoon-ah seems to be in no mood to listen.

“If motherfuckin’ Kwon gets an STD a-fuckin’-gain, this is all your fault, you fucking asshole, bastard hyung.” It’s finally a commercial break and Seokmin has no reason for his eyes to stay glued to the  TV, finally turning slightly to see the clearly pissed off man reaming Seungcheol. They catch eyes (and Seokmin desperately tries to ignore how attractive Seungcheol’s - friend? Brother? Boyfriend? - person is) and Jihoon forces a smile, swapping back to slightly accented English without hesitation.

“Sorry to bother you,” Jihoon says sweetly, and Seokmin can’t even fight a hint of the shit eating grin growing on his lips.

“It’s not a problem, Jihoon-ssi,” he shoots back in Korean just to watch Jihoon’s expression change. Not only do his eyes bug gloriously, but Jihoon’s jaw also literally drops, and even more anger begins to color his expression as he goes red. Seokmin might have a death wish, but holy hell is this guy a deadly combination of hot and cute. Cute-hot. Hot-cute. Whatever. 

“Where is Soonyoung?” Seungcheol asks with an exasperated tone as he pinches the bridge of his nose, less than impressed when Jihoon doesn’t seem to hear him, instead still staring at Seokmin. It’s making him a little self conscious, but when he quirks an eyebrow back at him Jihoon finally seems to turn back to Seungcheol. 

“Last I saw him he was grinding on this giant dude more than happily.”

“Fuck,” Seokmin mutters under his breath, turning to scan the crowd in an instant. “Did he look Korean, the tall guy?” Seokmin asks, barely glancing at Jihoon before he’s back to scanning the crowd.

“Uh, I guess?” Seokmin curses once more, a conglomeration of languages so wretched and blended into an indecipherable slurry that he can feel Nimrod rolling in his grave. The combination makes Seungcheol laugh, clearly familiar with a few of his choice words for the same reason Seokmin is, but Seokmin still pays them no mind.

“Can you help me find them?” Seokmin asks after a fruitless search, turning to Jihoon and Seungcheol a bit desperately. “The last time Mingyu got this carried away, the guy’s boyfriend tried to murder us. And I mean that literally.” Both of them startle before Seungcheol moves to stand, shooting Seokmin a concerned glance. He’s waiting for the obvious question about his vision or whatever when Jihoon cuts them both off, holding out his hand as he stares at Seokmin.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Seokmin blinks before he fumbles for his phone, finding a picture with Mingyu and a few guys from the team with relative ease. He hands the phone over to Jihoon and watches as his eyes widen in recognition, handing the phone off to Seungcheol as he looks back up at Seokmin. “That’s the guy with Soonyoung, yeah. Good news, there’s no murderous boyfriend. Bad news, Soonyoung doesn’t understand public decency.” Seokmin curses once more, taking his phone back from Seungcheol before he looks back out to the crowd.

“Any guesses as to where they are?” Jihoon nods and sets off into the crowd immediately, leaving Seokmin to stumble behind. Even as he tries to follow Jihoon as quickly as possible, he still loses the shorter man in the throngs of people, feeling panic well in his bones as he’s being jostled from everywhere that he can’t see. Despite desperate searches and his head whipping around every direction it can, he doesn’t even catch a glimpse of Seungcheol or Jihoon. He’s starting to hyperventilate and he knows it, but Seokmin hasn’t been good with crowds since his accident and his breathing exercises simply refuse to work right now. He feels like a ship being tossed in terrible white caps, threatening to capsize and sink in the middle of these wretched waters without anyone to save him, to keep him afloat. Floundering in the crowd, Seokmin is ready to give up and head back to the bar to simply breathe and pray that someone comes and finds him again, when he feels a hand curl around his wrist. His head whips around as he jumps back, feeling some of the panic in his bones seep out of him as he looks at Seungcheol’s kind features. 

“C’mon, they’re this way.” Seungcheol keeps his voice as soft as he can while still being heard and Seokmin appreciates it, feeling like an exposed nerve as he tries to make his way through the crowd. They do eventually make their way to another table where Jihoon seems to be reprehending Mingyu and who must be Soonyoung, the pair of them drunkenly giggling the entire time. When Jihoon catches sight of them he seems to relax before he tenses again, eyes flickering between Seokmin’s wrist in Seungcheol’s hand and their faces, expression unreadable. 

“Shit, Seok,” Mingyu babbles once he catches sight of him, launching himself at Seokmin and rocking him back and forth in a massive bear hug. “Sorry I abandoned you! And sorry I made you find me in the crowd!” Mingyu all but wails, and Seokmin is instantly trying to calm down the other man before it gets any more out of control. They don’t need anymore of a scene right now.

“It’s alright, Gyu, I'm okay. Why don’t you sit down and drink some water, hmm?” Mingyu does as he’s told, half sitting in Soonyoung’s lap before he moves to start chugging a glass of water. Freed from a drunken embrace Seokmin sighs, looking back at Seungcheol and Jihoon with a sheepish smile. Seungcheol instantly shakes his head at him in acquittal, but Jihoon seems far more suspicious for whatever reason. Suspicious enough that as Seungcheol sits and starts talking to drunken bastard 1 and 2, he moves to saddle next to Seokmin and fixes him with a terrifying look.

“You good?” Seokmin nods carefully, keeping his eyes glued to Jihoon despite how people around him keep bumping into him and threaten to send him spinning again. “You don’t look so good.”

“Fine,” Seokmin chokes out, but Jihoon simply raises an eyebrow in response. It’s clear that he doesn’t believe him and Seokmin can’t blame him, letting out a heavy sigh before he runs a hand through his hair. “I hate crowds, s’all.”

“Then why come to a bar?” He smiles ruefully, nodding towards the table as he curls into himself further.

“Mingyu loves them.” Jihoon squints at him for a few more seconds before he shifts Seokmin out of the stream of people, finding him a secluded space next to the table that’s big enough for him to finally feel like he can breathe again. For a few minutes he simply does that, breathing with his eyes closed and trying to soothe himself lest he start crying in the middle of his second favorite bar. When he finally feels more under control he opens his eyes, meeting Jihoon’s concerned gaze even as the shorter man seems to continuously get pushed by the crowd.

“Better?” He nods gratefully, gently reaching out and tugging Jihoon closer so that he isn’t bumped into so often. The smile he receives in return is enough to make him forget any of the annoyance he just faced, instead wanting to only remember the comforting smile on Jihoon’s face. 

“Thank you.” Jihoon blinks at him in consideration for a moment before he smiles, pulling out his phone and tapping on the screen a few times before he hands it to Seokmin, a new contact pulled up. Seokmin can’t fight back his grin as he takes the phone, wishing he could see Jihoon’s expression out of the corner of his eye as he fills in his information and even texts himself. 

“There,” he says with finality, grinning back up at Jihoon as he hands his phone back. Jihoon raises an eyebrow at the contact name but doesn’t say anything about it, instead pocketing the device and running his hand through his hair. It looks wonderfully soft and silky, Seokmin notices, and right now all he wants to do is just feel it for himself. If he had had a few more beers, then he just might have. Instead he tries to do the normal thing, striking up casual conversation with Jihoon.

“‘Bastard hyung’, huh? How’d you and Seungcheol meet?” Jihoon’s eyebrows raise as if he didn’t expect the question, even as his ears start to go red, eventually looking back at Seungcheol with a small smile before he turns back to Seokmin.

“I lived next door, and the second it was cold enough, we both were on the pond in our backyards. He was playing pond hockey and I was learning how to spin.” Seokmin lets out a low whistle, sure that his eyes are glinting in excitement. 

“You skate then? Figure?” Jihoon nods, his chest puffing out slightly. He clearly takes pride in his work and Seokmin finds him all the more endearing for it.

“Yeah. I’ve been out with an injury for a little, but I’m hoping to be able to compete again soon.” Seokmin hums knowingly, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets as he leans against the wall behind him. 

“I get it, but can I ask what happened?” Jihoon shrugs, looking away from Seokmin as though he’s uncomfortable with the conversation topic. 

“Training accident.” Seokmin winces, grimacing at Jihoon when he meets his gaze again.

“Those are the worst, I’m sorry.” Despite the nonchalant hum that Jihoon lets out, Seokmin can tell it’s anything but. There’s clearly a story there that Jihoon doesn’t want to even try to breach, which Seokmin is more than happy to respect. 

“What about you? How do you know Mingyu?” Seokmin shakes his head fondly, offering Jihoon what he’s sure is a smile far too soft for their current setting. 

“An international hockey camp for ‘premiere players’ or something like that. I was the only other kid who spoke Korean, so we were instant friends.” Jihoon smiles back at him, his expression full of mirth as he looks up at Seokmin.

“I’m guessing you talked major shit in front of the other guys then.”

“Oh, of fucking course.” They both dissolve into full blown laughter, surely causing a few heads to turn their way even if Seokmin can’t see them. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who at least sort of gets it, and Seokmin can only hope that this becomes the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

—

Jihoon loves Seungcheol as if he were his own brother. Loves him to death, really. Is ready to fight for Seungcheol at any given moment as if he were one of those old school enforcers Seungcheol loves to drunkenly babble and even preach about. But, that doesn’t mean that he doesn't hate him too. 

“Who’re you texting?” Seungcheol teases as he wiggles his eyebrows and Jihoon can only huff. “Is it Seokmin?” Jihoon hates him.

“Fuck off, Choi.” Seungcheol cackles and Jihoon ignores him, fighting back a smile as he looks back at his phone. So what if he’s texting Seokmin? Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol leans over to try and get a glimpse at his screen, which Jihoon easily smacks him for. 

“Hey!” Seungcheol pouts and Jihoon snickers, skating away from where Seungcheol leans against the wall. Is it a dick move? Yes, Seungcheol isn't supposed to be on the ice at all right now. Is it deserved? Also yes.

Seokminnie [13:23]: I took Gyu to learn to skate today and the kids keep bullying him

Seokminnie [13:24]: I’m in Tears rn 

Hoonie [13:24]: lmao abt what?

Seokminnie [13:25]: Everything, it’s so funny

Seokminnie [13:25]: They don’y believe he’s pro

Seokminnie [13:25]: Which is fair cuz he tripped on his own skates when he came in this morning

Hoonie [13:26]: omfg

Hoonie [13:26]: we love an ice breakfast

Seokminnie [13:27]: It was a humbling experience for him but I was in Actual Stitches

Seokminnie [13:27]: Gtg, break is over! Talk to you later Hoonie~~

Hoonie [13:28]: enjoy the kids

“It’s cute.” Jihoon jumps so hard that his skates slide out from under him, leaving him to splay out on his ass on the ice. Seungcheol spits out a curse before he’s rushing to the door and onto the ice, thankfully not trying to jump the wall while he’s still hurt, crouching next to Jihoon where he’s struggling to breathe within moments.

“I’m okay,” he puffs out, resting his hand on his chest as he tries to regain his breath, the rest of him starfished on the ice.

“You didn’t hit your head or anything?” Jihoon shakes his head, doing a quick inventory on all of his body parts that may have been hurt. He feels fine, despite his breathlessness, and he slowly moves to sit up.

“No, I’m okay.” Seungcheol seems beyond grateful that he’s alright, reaching out to gently rub Jihoon’s back.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” He shrugs off Seungcheol’s apology. It’s not really necessary - it was an accident and it happens. 

“You’re fine, don’t worry.” Though he seems like he wants to argue, Seungcheol stays quiet, helping Jihoon to find his feet and walking him to the door of the rink. Jihoon glides where Seungcheol directs him, still with a hand pressed against his chest as he focuses on breathing. He’s taking off his skates, Seungcheol still rubbing soothing circles into his back, when Jihoon hears someone open the door nearby. It’s an odd time for anyone to be coming in but Jihoon ignores them all the same, stuffing his feet into his slides and looking up to meet his coach’s face.

“May I have a word?” Seungcheol and Jihoon trade glances before he nods back at his coach. Understanding the silent request for privacy, Seungcheol begins to leave, but he makes sure to squeeze Jihoon’s shoulder before he most likely goes to wait in the lobby. 

“What’s wrong Ivan?” His coach sighs even as he forces a smile, an act that puts Jihoon more on edge than he previously thought possible. 

“You want to start competing again and soon, right?” Jihoon nods even as he stares at Ivanov quizzically. It’s been beyond well communicated that he does, or at least he had thought it was. “Sofia suggested something, something a friend of hers did after she could no longer hit triples.”

“What’d she suggest?” Ivanov sighs once more, looking around the rink before his gaze settles on Jihoon again.

“How would you feel about pairs?” 

Jihoon’s heart drops.  

The rest of the conversation is a blur around him, but he somehow manages to realize that he agrees to meet a few candidates and to do a few test tries before he leaves the rink. Seungcheol is on him in an instant once he’s out the door, but Jihoon can’t even really register that. All he feels is his career slipping through his fingertips like sand, grasping at it desperately even as it falls.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon only can blink, following Seungcheol to his car and robotically going through the motions of dropping his stuff and getting in. It’s clear that his silence and spaciness is making Seungcheol extremely concerned, but even though he cares that he’s worrying his best friend he can’t do anything to reassure him. 

“I just wanna go home,” he whispers eventually. Though he isn’t watching, he’s certain that Seungcheol’s expression is nothing less than heartbroken as he drives Jihoon to his apartment without a comment. It’s not home, not really, but Jihoon appreciates it all the same. 

No one can take him home, not when home doesn’t exist anymore. 

—

“Hey, Seokmin!” He turns around, smiling at Seungcheol and skating over to him in a moment. 

“Hyung, hey. I didn’t know we were hanging out today,” he trails off, his head tilting to the side as Seungcheol begins to smile sheepishly. 

“We weren’t, but Jihoonie seemed super sad and I hate when he’s like that,” his eyes hit the ground as he finishes his sentence, “so I was wondering if you’d wanna come to a movie tonight with us? If you could, I mean.” Seokmin stares at him quizzically. Timid Seungcheol is a rare sight. 

“I would love to, yeah, but why me?” Seokmin hadn't thought that Seungcheol could look even more embarrassed or unsure, but he was proven wrong by the way Seungcheol practically curls in on himself. 

“Jihoonie likes hanging out with you. I figured if Soonyoung and I couldn’t get him to cheer up, you might be the next best choice.” As he’s considering Seungcheol’s words Seokmin hums, shifting his weight between his feet as he thinks of the rest of his schedule. 

“Buy me dinner before and I’ll be there.” Seungcheol grins. It’s clear that he not only cares about Jihoon, but he really does think that Seokmin might be able to help. “What time are we meeting?”

“Movie is at 7, but Soonyoung wanted food first so 5:30? Or I can pick you up at 5?” Seokmin nods with a smile. 

“Yeah, that’d be good. Otherwise I’ll have to see if Gyu has practice or if I could bum a ride from him.” Seungcheol blinks at him a little confused and Seokmin can only shrug, shifting his weight a bit and forcing himself to refrain from speeding off just yet. 

“You can’t drive if you’re visually impaired, at least the way I am.” It’s funny, Seokmin thinks, the way that everyone he knows calls him an open book. He’s sure they’re telling the truth too - he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions admittedly, at least until he got hurt. But Seungcheol gives new meaning to the words with the way his face falls in an instant, guilt and pity flooding his features as his shoulders sag, a hand coming up to rub his neck. Seokmin is sure an apology is blooming on his lips, so before it can get too far he cuts the older man off with a plastic smile. “Don’t worry about it. Should I text you my address or should I meet you somewhere?” After a few moments, Seungcheol does manage to pull himself together, offering Seokmin a watery smile as he nods.

“Yeah, I can pick you up at yours. We’re going nowhere fancy, so if you wanna wear sweats I can’t blame you; Jihoon will definitely not be in real shoes.” The teasing remark is just left of sounding natural, but Seokmin refuses to call Seungcheol out on it, instead just shaking his head as he smiles. 

“Good to know. See you later, hyung.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s back to zipping across the rink, working on the step sequence Jeonghan had shown him a few hours prior just to see how manageable it was. Though he often hates it, Seokmin can’t mind his lack of vision in the moment - with his focus on the ice, he can’t see what’s surely a crestfallen expression on Seungcheol’s face. He can even pretend his hyung had already left, skipping around the ice and even going for a jump here and there. Jeonghan is going to be so proud with how far he’s come, that is when he’s less disappointed in how Seokmin is using skating to hide from other people’s feelings again. But Jeonghan’s disappointment fades the way his vision did; slowly, and then all at once. 

—

Jihoon’s more than a little surprised to see Seokmin walking in with Seungcheol to their favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Seungcheol had texted that he was going to be a little late, telling Jihoon and Soonyoung to grab a table instead of waiting, but he hadn’t mentioned that this would be the reason why. Not that it’s a problem, no. It’s just Jihoon feels a little stupid that he hadn’t picked up the more than obvious clues.

“You knew he was bringing Seokmin?” He asks Soonyoung as close to casually as he can manage, watching a cheshire grin grow on his features. 

“Why? Nervous about sitting with your crush?” Jihoon realizes now how stupid he had been to let Soonyoung sit across the booth from him. Sure, he had been praying that he got the whole side to himself, but Soonyoung is nothing but a menace. He would never pass up on an opportunity to cuddle up to Jihoon. (The one good thing about their position is that Jihoon can easily drill a kick into his shins. Soonyoung’s face of pain is almost worth being forced to sit next to his Not Crush.)

“Hi Jihoonie,” Seokmin says once he’s next to their table, offering him a sweet smile before he turns to the other side of the booth. “And this must be Soonyoung?” Jihoon hates that Soonyoung’s grin only grows, ensuring him that he’s in for a hellish amount of teasing from the older man. 

“In the flesh. It’s nice to meet you Seokmin-ah.” Seokmin's eyes sort of sparkle at the easy Korean from Soonyoung, something that he clearly hadn’t assumed from the other man. It makes Jihoon realize how unexpecting Seokmin seems to always be, a smile easily pulled from him at the drop of the hat. Jihoon’s a little lost in thought when the booth moves slightly, and he turns to see Seokmin looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You mind if I sit here, hyung?” Jihoon feels his ears burn, for what reason he doesn’t know, as he smiles back at Seokmin and nods. 

“Go for it. As long as I don’t have to sit next to the menace that is Kwon Soonyoung, I don’t care.” Seokmin’s hand flies up to his mouth to stifle his laughter as he looks between Jihoon and Soonyoung, clearly taken aback by the amount of shocked offense coloring Soonyoung’s expression. 

“You’re so mean to me, Jihoonie!” Soonyoung all but wails and Seokmin loses it, curling up with the force of his laughter as his eyes are squeezed shut, rocking a little unstably but still never really getting in Jihoon’s personal space. It’s weird how Seokmin’s clear notice and respect of Jihoon’s dislike of clinging makes his heart both swell and deflate; a feeling that he vows to unpack later as he stuffs it into the recesses of his mind. Instead, he only focuses on how Seokmin as he begins to calm down, his hand brushing against Jihoon’s thigh as he goes to put it down in an attempt to steady himself. His fingers jump away from Jihoon the second after they touch, almost as if he hadn’t realized where his hand was. With a sheepish and apologetic grin, Seokmin looks back at him, sighing softly in relief when Jihoon just shakes his head at him. Though it makes Seokmin relax, Jihoon can’t fully ignore the part of him that wants to reach out and touch Seokmin intentionally. 

Despite the slip up, dinner is mostly uneventful, Seokmin easily fitting into their dynamic and taking the newly thrusted maknae roll in stride, at least a lot better than Jihoon does. It only makes sense to find out he’s the younger brother of a doting and loving older sister, his love for affection fitting into his personality without a hitch. It’s only when he asks about the movie they’re planning on seeing that Jihoon feels himself filled with shock, sure a judgemental expression has taken over his features.

“I’m sorry, what?” Seokmin turns and blinks at him for a few moments, head cocking to the side as he takes in Jihoon’s intense expression. 

“I haven’t seen the, um, most recent Avengers movie?” Jihoon’s jaw drops and he’s sure that his eyes are bugging. 

“You mean Infinity War ?” Seokmin’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at the table, clearly lost in thought. 

“Uh, is that the one with the robots?” Jihoon shakes his head, jaw hanging once more, and shakes his head again when Seokmin looks up but still seems to be waiting for a reaction. “Oh, well I saw that one with Mingyu, I think. Might have slept through it, if I’m honest; we were both drunk.” What the fuck. Jihoon feels like he’s on an episode of Punk’d.

“You’re kidding.” Though it isn’t a question, Seokmin still shrugs sheepishly, eyes flickering around the table before he meets Jihoon’s eyes again. 

“Unfortunately, I’m not. But then what’s Infinity War if it isn’t robots?” Jihoon is ready to combust. 

“Ohmygod, we gotta watch it later. We gotta watch them all later, whatthefuck .” Seokmin’s hands begin to fidget as his eyes drop to the table, cheeks turning red. Jihoon is about to keep talking when he hears someone stifle a laugh from across the table, instantly moving to glare daggers at Soonyoung. It makes Soonyoung laugh harder because he is truly a menace, and after a swift kick at his shins he turns back to Seokmin and pulls out his phone. 

“Okay,” he starts, pulling up an article and reading it within seconds. “It says here to understand Captain Marvel, you really only need The Avengers, the first one, Guardians of the Galaxy, and technically Infinity War but I don’t know how much that’s just the end credit scene.” Jihoon looks back at Seokmin then to see him on his own phone, Google pulled up as he types in the name of each of the films and looks at their posters and IMDB summaries.

“I think I’ve seen Guardians of the Galaxy but I don’t really remember.” Jihoon sighs this time.

“Lemme catch you up to speed then.” Once Seokmin looks back up to smile and nod at him, Jihoon launches into what should have been a short summary for Seokmin to know everything that he needs to. But, it’s as he’s mentioning different films and talking that he realizes Seokmin keeps getting more and more confused, making him explain things for longer than he expected while still dodging spoilers of his favorite movies in the franchise. (“What do you mean you haven’t seen Black Panther?!” “I’m sorry?” “Lord have mercy.”) He knows he’s been talking for a while but doesn’t realize just how long it’s been until Seungcheol asks a waiter for the check, pulling Jihoon’s attention from Seokmin immediately. Seungcheol catches on his confusion quickly before he offers Jihoon a knowing grin, his eyes flickering between Seokmin and Jihoon fondly. 

“Show starts in twenty.” Based on how Seungcheol’s smile only grows, he’s certain that he looks as flabbergasted as he feels. It’s rare that anyone apart from the dorks across the table from him would listen to Jihoon rant, rave, and ramble about his favorite movie series without losing interest or even cutting him off. (A few dates post his accident went like that. Though he never told Seungcheol or Soonyoung, those were the only dates he cried himself to sleep after, convinced no one would ever care enough to at least feign interest in anything he cared about.) When he turns to apologize to Seokmin for being such a bore, he finds the words caught in his throat when he sees Seokmin blinking at him with wide eyes, obviously entranced in what Jihoon had been saying.

“So? Does Quill still have powers at the end of Guardians 2? He does, right?” It takes him a moment to place Seokmin’s words before he shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then why make the movie?!” Seokmin goes as far as to toss his arms in the air as he says it, smiling back at Jihoon when it makes the older man laugh. “I dunno, hyung, it just sorta seems pointless to say, ‘lol our hero is actually hella OP,’” Seokmin swaps to English and perfectly adopts an “American bro voice” that makes Jihoon keel over with laughter, “and then what, thirty minutes later go ‘haha psych.’ Like what? Was that movie just an episode of Punk’d? Did we get pwned?” Jihoon is still laughing too hard to respond, to the point that he barely has it in him to shoot Soonyoung a glare when he responds for him. 

“Uh oh Seokminnie, you better be careful. You’re startin’ to sound like Jihoon over there.” Jihoon watches as Seokmin turns to Soonyoung with a shrug.

“But it seems so pointless, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol laughs this time, thanking the waiter that drops off the bill and waving away anyone else’s attempts to offer him money with a shit eating grin.

“Keep that up, Seokmin-ah, and our Jihoonie will never let you leave.” Jihoon practically laments when he finds out his legs are just a hair too short to kick Seungcheol under the table. Seokmin doesn’t seem to notice his desperate attempts to kick his friends, instead looking at Seungcheol with confusion. As he opens his mouth, Jihoon realizes he’s not sure he wants to let his friends answer another question about him, so he cuts Seokmin off with a smile and a gentle touch to his arm.

“They’re just being annoying, you can ignore them.” Seokmin turns with an eyebrow raised but doesn’t ask anymore questions, allowing Soonyoung to sweep him up into a conversation about God knows what. Jihoon lets out a tiny sigh of relief, flipping Seungcheol off when he realizes the asshole is still looking at him with a teasing expression. 

He likes talking to Seokmin, and what about it. 

—

Seokmin doesn’t know what happened. One second, they were discussing the movie at length and with a general air of excitement, walking to a convenience store near where Seungcheol and Soonyoung parked so that they could keep hanging out, and the next Seokmin was talking about what Mingyu loves to call his war stories when Jihoon seemed to shut down. The only time he had ever seen Jihoon remotely so unamused was when Soonyoung and Mingyu were being indecent on the dance floor, and the fact that his sour mood seemed to be directed towards Seokmin left him all the more confused. Jihoon refused to engage in conversation unless he was explicitly asked a question, and every time Seokmin turned to look at him it was to find a frown on his face and his chair further from Seokmin’s. He could only wonder if he had missed something due to the dead zones in his vision, a clue that perhaps would have told him just what Jihoon was so upset about. It broke his heart a little to see Jihoon so angry and annoyed with him, and with what felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders, Seokmin allowed the night to pass him by. 

“You okay, Ji?” Soonyoung asks softly, earning him a huff and a glare that Seokmin only catches the tail end of, feeling his spirits shrink further when it ends up being directed at him. He sort of feels like someone kicked him while he was down, so he turns from Jihoon just so that he won’t have to see him anymore, the other man placed firmly in one of his blind spots. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.” His words are clipped and almost aggressive, which Seokmin knows is his fault, but he still doesn’t know why. It’s been extremely tempting for him to turn and ask Jihoon what the hell had happened, but he can’t find it in himself to do it. Not while he is battling to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, eyes glued to the table in front of him. For someone who played what is often thought of as an “aggressive” sport, Seokmin’s always been too soft hearted for his own good. He and Mingyu both only appear as tough as nails, their heights and their builds adding to their intimidation factors, but they really aren’t. That’s why they’ve been inseparable since that camp; no one else ever seemed to get how easy it was to hurt them without even trying. 

“It’s getting late,” Seungcheol eventually says softly, calling Seokmin’s attention back to the conversation even if he still refuses to look up. “You have an opening shift tomorrow, don’t you?” It takes Seokmin a few moments to figure out that Seungcheol is talking to him and a few more to think of his work schedule. 

“I start at 8, thankfully. Sabrina and Mia are opening, I think.” When he finally looks up, it’s to see Seungcheol sporting a soft smile, standing up and offering Seokmin a hand. 

“C’mon then, let’s get you home.” Seokmin forces a smile and takes his hand, offering a soft goodbye to Soonyoung and Jihoon without looking at either of them. Once he’s sure that they’re out of earshot, Seokmin sighs heavily and lets his shoulders sad even further, looking at Seungcheol with his eyes brimming with tears. 

“Hyung,” he’s not shocked to hear his voice break on the word, but apparently Seungcheol is with the way his head snaps towards Seokmin and his expression freezes. “Hyung, what happened? What did I do wrong?” Arms encase his trembling frame without warning, and Seokmin finds himself burying sobs into Seungcheol’s steady shoulder. 

“Shh, it’s okay Seokminnie,” Seungcheol coos, petting Seokmin’s hair softly as he holds him tightly. “It wasn’t you, I promise.” He shakes his head as he sniffles, clinging to Seungcheol even tighter now. 

“I might be blind, but even I saw that glare.” Somehow, Seokmin makes himself cry harder with his own words. Seungcheol pulls him even closer, something Seokmin hadn’t thought was possible, cradling Seokmin as though he were something precious. 

“I dunno, Seokmin, I really don’t. Jihoon can be an asshole at best sometimes. But I’ll figure it out, alright?” Seokmin sniffles a few more times before he nods, scrubbing at his face when he finally manages to pull away. Eventually he forces himself to meet Seungcheol’s gaze again, glad to see the older man hold out his hand for Seokmin to take. 

“Thanks, Cheolie.” Seungcheol only smiles as he squeezes Seokmin’s hand, leading him towards the car once more. It’s due to his limited vision that he misses the pair of eyes on them as they walk to the parking lot, the burning gaze lost to the darkness of the night.

—

The way that he always does, Jihoon takes his anger and disappointment out on the ice, throwing himself into the air without a care in the world. Yes, it’s how he got himself into this situation, but Jihoon can’t be deterred right now. He’s far too angry to be bothered by his anxiety. 

Somehow, despite his recklessness, Jihoon lands his first triple since his accident. It takes him a moment to realize what had happened, but once he does he can’t help but to fall to his knees with a grin overtaking his face and tears welling in his eyes. He’s so so so happy that he has no words, curled into himself as he kneels on the ice and weeps tears of joy. His emotions are so prominent that he can taste them on his tongue, excitement pouring out of him as though they were rays from the sun. He suddenly can’t take it anymore, feeling as though he’s going to combust if he doesn’t share with someone what he just managed to do, so with shaking legs and tears on his cheeks he races over to where he left his phone. Fingers flying across the keyboard between swipes to his cheeks, Jihoon composes a barely legible message in mere moments. Despite joy overtaking him, his thumb hovers above the send button, and finally Jihoon’s brain catches up to the rest of him. 

The message is to Seokmin. 

The first time he’s managed to land a triple in years, the first true glimpse he’s had of getting his career back, and the first person he wants to tell is Seokmin. Not his coach, not his best friends, not his parents, not any of the other figure skaters he’s friendly with. It’s Seokmin. 

He feels his happiness deflate like a balloon he took a needle to. Suddenly he’s not so overwhelmed with joy or excitement, instead only left with stinging in his chest. 

Jihoon doesn’t really notice as it happens, but he finds himself sitting on the ice when he’s pulled back into the present by the sound of a door opening. He’s still staring at the message he composed even if he’s not seeing it, ignoring the presence of someone suddenly beside him. 

“Jihoon? Are you hurt?” Leave it to Soonyoung to find him like this. He shakes his head even though it feels like it weighs more than a thousand tons, eyes still glued to his phone. 

“Why?” For what feels like the first time in his life, Soonyoung stays silent. Instead his fingers swipe across Jihoon’s cheek gently, making the younger man acutely aware that he’s been silently crying for God knows how long. 

“Oh.” Soonyoung hums back, still kneeling beside Jihoon as he wraps an arm around the frozen man’s shoulders. They sit in silence for a long time, unmoving as Jihoon feels himself get caught in the riptide that is his emotions. 

“I landed a triple.” Though he’s not entirely sure why he said it, Jihoon’s glad it’s off his chest in a way. He feels Soonyoung shoot up beside him, his excitement tangible even if it’s doused in confusion. 

“This is your first one since your accident, right?” Jihoon nods blankly. Soonyoung sinks back down beside him, keeping Jihoon at a distance to watch his expression closely. “Then what’s wrong?”

The rink is suffocatingly silent as Jihoon just sits there, staring at the phone in his hands. Soonyoung must realize this and pulls the device from Jihoon’s hands, unlocking it and reading the texts on the screen before he looks back up with a sympathetic expression. 

“You wanted to tell Seokminnie?”

“He was the first person I went to.” Jihoon sees Soonyoung look at him with shock out of the corner of his eye, but he refuses to look at his best friend all the same. “I didn’t think of anyone else.”

He’s not surprised to find himself pulled into a hug, but he is surprised to feel tears in his eyes. It’s his own fault that he can’t text Seokmin, but his heart doesn’t really seem to care. Soonyoung lets him cling on without a comment, not even when a few tears manage to slip past his eyelids. 

“You must really like him, huh?” Jihoon hadn't expected Soonyoung to stay silent the whole time, but he still wishes that he had somehow managed to. Though he stays silent, Soonyoung already knows the answer. “Why don’t you talk to him then?”

“I have nothing to say.” A lie has never tasted so putrid before. 

“If you say so, Jihoonie. If you say so.”

—

“He still hasn’t reached out?” Seokmin looks at Mingyu with a confused expression, having no clue what gave Mingyu that impression. 

“What?”

“You’re watching another romcom, what is this, Letters to Juliet?” Mingyu glances at the TV for a few moments before he nods. “Yeah, so you’re watching Letters to Juliet again with the closest thing you can get to your au pair’s picarones, which, where did you get those?”

“Peruvian market on 4th street.” Mingyu nods as he pulls out his phone, most likely looking up the market Mingyu is talking about. 

“Still. What went so wrong that you’re ignoring each other? You seemed to be such fast friends,” Mingyu says softly, slumping down on the couch beside Seokmin as he shrugs. 

“I still have no clue. I mean, I’ll ask Seungcheol when I see him later, but I doubt he knows either.” Mingyu makes a soft and sad noise as he reaches out and pats Seokmin’s thigh softly. 

“If you wanna talk about it, y'know I’m always here.” Seokmin finally looks at Mingyu and smiles, sure that it’s his most genuine one since he and Jihoon fell out. 

“I know.”

By the time the movie is over, Seokmin needs to leave to meet up with Seungcheol. Mingyu offers him a ride, dropping him off with a hug and a yell to text him if Seokmin needs a ride back. With a laugh Seokmin just waves, heading inside the rink with the comfort of his hockey bag on his back. 

“Seokmin, hey,” Seungcheol says softly in greeting, stopping lacing up his skates so that he can hug him. Seokmin appreciates the gesture as he smiles, clapping Seungcheol’s back a few times before he pulls away. 

“How was your day, Cheolie?” Seungcheol hums in thought, his focus back on his skates. 

“Could’ve been better. Had a conference call with my coaches and trainers and agent and everyone about how I've been cleared to skate again. The coaches want me to come back ASAP, but thankfully the trainer shot them down. She said something about how pushing me back so early was going to not only endanger me further but the rest of the team, so they eventually relented.” Seokmin offers him a sympathetic smile as he’s in between tying his skates, shaking his head softly as he turns back to the task at hand. 

“Coaches, eh?” Seungcheol laughs and Seokmin grins back. “To the ice?” After a deep breath Seungcheol nods, following Seokmin with only a touch of hesitance. They make it onto the rink in one piece, but that’s where Seungcheol begins to waver. Seokmin gets it better than anyone else they know, so he simply stays by Seungcheol’s side and matches his pace with the older man’s. 

“Why am I this close to having a panic attack?” Seungcheol tries to joke, but Seokmin can hear how strained his voice is. It’s what prompts him to reach out and hold Seungcheol’s hand as they slowly skate around the ice, a comforting smile never leaving his face. 

“I was the same after my hit. It’ll be less scary soon, I promise.” Seungcheol swallows and nods, shooting Seokmin a thankful look. 

“Can we talk about something?” Seungcheol eventually asks, clearly needing something else to focus on other than how they’re starting to pick up speed. 

“Do you know why Jihoon is so mad at me?” Seungcheol looks at him with wide eyes, clearly distracted from his nerves completely. A win and a loss, truly.

“What?”

“He still hasn’t texted me.” Seokmin finally lets go of Seungcheol’s hand, staying close to him until the older man can smile and wave him off with confidence. It’s only then that Seokmin starts to zip around the rink, his brain too restless to pick a pattern and stick to it. 

“Did you try texting him?” Seokmin immediately stops, raising an eyebrow and shooting Seungcheol a look. 

“After what happened after that movie? Pass.” Seungcheol sighs but he doesn’t try to fight Seokmin, for which he’s grateful. Instead Seungcheol simply sighs, shaking his head as he starts to loosen up and join Seokmin in mindlessly skating. 

“I dunno what happened, and I know it’s not an excuse, but his coach is making him find a partner and transition over to pairs, at least until he can nail his jumps again. It’s easy to say he’s not taking it very well; he’s started to close himself off again.” Seokmin raises an eyebrow, a little confused as to how this pertains to whatever’s happening between him and Jihoon.

“I thought he knew this was coming. At least that’s what Soonyoung said.” Another sigh echoes throughout the rink, leaving Seokmin even more confused. That is until Seungcheol finally responds, his voice rejected as if he were the one being forced into pairs. 

“He landed a triple. Can land triples now, at least most of them.”

“Oh.” Seungcheol is nodding when Seokmin finally looks at him again, his expression pained. Seokmin tries to think of something eloquent, he really does, but the pain still burns a little too brightly for him to manage anything more than, “That must suck.” Seungcheol doesn’t call him out for it, and if Seokmin’s honest it seems like he half expected it, shrugging at Seokmin as he starts to work on his footwork.  

“Yeah. And Ivanov keeps bringing him shitty partners to consider; they’re all either shitty people, shitty at skating, or shitty at making Jihoon feel safe during any of the stunts pairs have to pull. Half of them keep dropping him.”

“Oh shit.” It slips out before he can stop it, and based on the smile on his face Seungcheol can tell that too. 

“Yeah. Apparently he stormed off last session cuz the guy who dropped him almost broke his leg again.” Seokmin curses under his breath, an unfamiliar well of concern flooding in his chest despite its ache. No one deserves to be reinjured in such a way, and especially not Jihoon. 

“Is he okay?” Seungcheol shrugs. 

“Physically, yeah. But I found him crying in the bathroom when I went to pick him up so emotionally, no.” Seungcheol sighs again, slowing to a stop as he runs his fingers through his hair, looking back at Seokmin with a grimace. “I know what he did to you is extremely shitty, and I’m not trying to excuse that. I’m not telling you this to try and guilt you into forgiving him either. I just wanted you to know that he might not be ignoring you now the way he was a week ago.” Seokmin hums softly, sure that the confusion on his face is beyond overwhelming. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that Soonyoung and I think he wants to reach out, but with everything happening with his career on top of whatever the hell reason he decided was worth being a dick to you of all people, he can’t.” Seokmin just blinks at him, the hurricane of his thoughts swirling in his mind.

“I dunno what to do about that.” Seungcheol smiles at him sadly, clasping his shoulder as he watches him.

“Us either. But I figured you deserved to know.” Seokmin pushes the thoughts down to keep himself from reeling, staring at the ice as he decides that he can deal with all of this later. He then looks up with a smile at Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow and nodding behind him.

“Wanna try this out with sticks? We can pass around a puck for a little while too.” Seungcheol’s eyes light up as if he were a kid on Christmas, his giddiness clear to the point that Seokmin is convinced people across the country can feel it.

“Can we?” Seokmin laughs as he skates to the door, waving Seungcheol over with his own grin.

“Of course.” 

Seokmin had never realized how much he had missed having a practice buddy, but playing a casual game of pass that dissolves into all the little games that he and Seungcheol played as kids lets his heart sing louder than it has in a week. God, he’s missed low stakes skating with his friends. He never realized just how much.

—

Jihoon thanks his lucky stars for his small stature just this once, finding it incredibly easy to tuck himself under the counter of the sink so that he can have his momentary breakdown in peace. He’s learned to cry silently throughout his years and he continues to again, clutching onto his right leg and burying his face into his knee. It hurts, has since that nitwitted dickbrained asshole dropped him, and when the guy today simply tripped or slipped or somehow lost his footing and brought them both down, it made it that much worse. Jihoon isn’t too much of an asshole to admit that it wasn’t the guy’s fault and that he probably does deserve another chance, but the pain in his leg became sharp and stabbing and he limped his ass off of the ice as fast as he possibly could. No one needed to see him cry.

He’s lost in his thoughts and the throbbing pain of his leg when the door to the locker room opens, softly shutting to the point that he almost doesn’t recognize it. The sound of footsteps are unmistakable all the same, the person pausing for a few moments before they start making their way further inside. Jihoon takes the sound as a warning, using his sleeve to mop up the tears streaming down his face and to rub at his nose. He knows he looks ruddy, knows that when he cries it’s akin to a grubby child, but at least there isn’t anything actively flowing onto his face which he considers a win. A depressing and disappointing win, but a win.

“Jihoon?” It’s Soonyoung’s voice, kept quiet and gentle as the man in question crouches nearby. “Why are you under the sinks?” Jihoon shakes his head, biting his lip as he begins to hiccup, breath still shuttering in his lungs. More tears are threatening to fall and he really wishes that they won’t. Soonyoung sighs as he watches Jihoon carefully, at least from what the other man can tell.

“Okay, I won’t ask then.” Jihoon lets out the breath he was holding, nodding gratefully even as he continues to hiccup. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He nods again, listening as Soonyoung settles on the floor beside him. They sit in silence until Jihoon has managed to mostly catch his breath, shooting a side glance at Soonyoung even with his face still pressed to his knee.

“Why are you here?” Soonyoung smiles softly, even if his eyes remain sad.

“Ivan called me, said that there was a fall and you looked hurt. I’m guessing you’re not okay?” Jihoon shakes his head, fighting back the burn of tears as he hides his face in his knee again. Soonyoung doesn’t push further, instead patiently waiting for Jihoon to respond.

“No, not really.” Soonyoung hums carefully this time, and Jihoon knows if he were to look there would be considering expression on his face even if his gaze was sharp.

“Should I go yell at the guy?” Adamantly and instantly, Jihoon shakes his head. 

“No, no, he’s fine,” he rushes out, forcing himself to finally breathe. The poor soul really doesn’t deserve any of his friends' wrath, and if Jihoon lets it happen because he simply is too upset to speak, he knows he’d feel even worse. It’s only after the World’s Shakiest Breath that Jihoon speaks once more. “He said he’d never done a lift before so Ivan tried to talk him through it. I mean, it’s not like it’s really a thing you can ignore in pairs, so.” He shrugs as best as he can in his current position. “But when he realized it was going wrong he tried to put me down, but he ended up slipping or something and we both crashed down pretty hard. Irked my leg.” Soonyoung lets out a soft noise as Jihoon listens to him settle, feet scraping across the floor as he must sit criss-cross. 

“Makes sense why he was rubbing at his wrist then when I saw him. But Ivan said he was so upset that he probably wasn’t gonna try out again.” Jihoon sighs heavily, moving to run a hand through his hair before he sinks down further against his leg. 

“I mean, I can’t blame him, but this sucks. He was the best shot we had, and he’s even nice.” Soonyoung snorts at the nice comment and Jihoon catches him shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. It’s quiet for a few moments before Soonyoung speaks up again, but his tone doesn’t quite match what Jihoon expects it to sound like. It puts him a bit on edge, if he’s honest. 

“Ivan said there’s only one more guy for you to meet before he drops the whole pairs thing. Or at least he’s thinking about it.” Though suspicious, Jihoon feels a surge of hope bloom in his chest. 

“Really?” When Soonyoung sighs again, Jihoon knows that his excitement was misplaced and maybe even a mistake. 

“Don’t get too excited, Ji. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, but he said if none of these guys work, he’s dropping you for a year. He’s gonna go back to Russia and take the year off so that you’re forced to, too.” Jihoon’s heart stops. He’s certain he’s dead, at least as dead as his career is.

“You’re kidding.” The words are choked and threadbare, only leaving him due to force and surprise rather than anything else.

“You know I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” He knows that Soonyoung isn’t offended by his toothless accusation, but it doesn't mean that he doesn’t feel shitty about it anyways. 

“Sorry. I do know, I just, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

The silence is deafening and Jihoon feels his mind start to spin out of control, hysteria clutching at his teeth. He forces himself to take a few deep breaths in order to ground himself in the present moment, deciding to break the silence before he can lose himself further.

“What’d Ivan say about the new guy?” Soonyoung hums in consideration, and it’s only then that Jihoon realizes that he must have scooted closer. An arm lands across his shoulders and he can’t even pretend that he minds, allowing part of his weight to rest against Soonyoung. 

“Nothing really. Said he hasn’t seen him in action yet, he was recommended by a few people, and that he’s new to comp skating.” Jihoon sighs once more.

“Lovely.” 

“Hey,” Soonyoung says softly as he squeezes Jihoon in the slightest, “if he’s new then he shouldn’t be a dick then, right?” As he considers it Jihoon sighs once more, pulling his leg a little closer and leaning against Soonyoung a little more.

“Hopefully not. At least not pretentious.”

“And that’s, what, better than half of them?” The smile is clear in Soonyoung’s voice and Jihoon can’t fight back his snort, shaking his head as he curls into himself a hair tighter. The movement seems to set Soonyoung on edge again, and the older man is instantly fussing as best as he can without overwhelming Jihoon. It’s sweet, if Jihoon had to say, sweet in a way that very few are with him. 

“Okay but seriously, how's the leg?” Soonyoung keeps his voice serious and steady, though Jihoon can still hear the panic underneath it. “Should we get it looked at? Double check that everythings fine? Before you ruin your life all together, let alone your career?” With a sigh Jihoon nods, back to fully hiding his face in his knee.

“Probably.”

“But will you? Get it looked at, I mean.” With a sigh Jihoon shrugs, doing his best not to get lost in the swirling of the thoughts in his head. 

“Yeah. But lemme meet the last guy and then I will. I wanna know if I can tell my doctor that I have a year to rest it or half a week.” Soonyoung shrugs, pulling Jihoon a little closer to him in the process. 

“Fair. But consider seeing her first - if she says you need a year it’s better to know before you meet this guy.” Jihoon sighs; he hates it when Soonyoung’s right about shit like this. 

“Yeah, I will. I’ll call the office later, see when I can get an appointment.”

Soonyoung is seemingly appeased with his answer, no longer asking Jihoon questions or even trying to maintain a conversation. Instead he just sits silently on the dirty ass bathroom floor, allowing Jihoon to try and recuperate without his input. It’s part of the reason that Jihoon loves him so much - despite what people may think, Soonyoung knows when to tone it down and even be silent for the sake of someone else. 

“So,” he eventually starts, exhaustion creeping into his bones and making himself comfortable with the pain that still lives inside of him, “why are you here? Like, sitting on the bathroom floor with me, I mean.” Soonyoung snorts, his head buried in Jihoon’s shoulder as he clearly fights back his laughter. It takes a few minutes before he can speak again, his voice level despite how his shoulders were shaking moments ago. 

“Your skates were practically thrown across the locker room, and you still have socks on. The Lee Jihoon I know would practically skate barefoot and in slides if he could figure out how.” Jihoon laughs at the remarks, because even though they’re truly a testament to how he’s been, Soonyoung always has a way of wording things that makes them so much more lighthearted, even if they are no less inconsequential. 

“You’re not wrong,” Jihoon teases back, happy to feel Soonyoung squeeze his waist before he starts to shift behind him.

“C’mon, let’s go. I have a feeling you wanna talk to the guy and I wanna get lunch.”

“Hot pot?” Soonyoung’s grinning when Jihoon manages to look at him, clearly proud that he’s managed to make Jihoon feel at least a little better.

“I’ll even buy.” Nothing is more motivating than the promise of free food, and Jihoon can’t help but to grin as Soonyoung helps him stand. 

“Deal.”

He’ll thank God later for friends like Soonyoung. First, he has to go deal with the mess that is his career. Even though he’s dreading it, knowing that Soonyoung is in his corner makes it just a touch easier to do what he has to do.  

—

Seokmin is gliding across the ice, working on the short routine Jeonghan had started to choreograph but wanted to see done before he could finish or edit it. He’s been Jeonghan’s figure skating guinea pig since he and Mingyu ended up here, trading free ice time for Seokmin’s clumsy help. At first Jeonghan ran the learn to skate programs through him, trying to find new and better ways to teach things with Seokmin as his example. It must have helped because the program became insanely popular within a few runs, leaving Jeonghan preening and looking at Seokmin for more of his research. Again, Seokmin really doesn’t mind. He kind of likes it anyways, especially now that he doesn’t eat shit because of a toe pick every five seconds anymore.

Going for jumps is always the most fun part and Seokmin does that, landing what he thinks might be his cleanest triple to date and fighting back a grin as he glides out of it. Following the music for the last few moves that Jeonghan choreographed, Seokmin spins himself into a series of once-nauseating turns before he slows to a stop. The music keeps playing, which is odd - Jeonghan usually cuts it immediately, but it’s made weirder by the sound of applause echoing throughout the empty space. Seokmin stands slowly, turning to see Jeonghan sporting what must be a mischievous smile and another man beside him. Though he has to steal himself, Seokmin does skate over to the pair, looking at them quizzically as they both smile.

“Seokminnie, this is Dimitriy. Dimitriy, this is Seokmin.” It’s with a forced smile that Seokmin shakes Dimitriy’s hand, wishing he could see Jeonghan’s expression from the corner of his eye just to figure out what the actual fuck is going on. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Seokmin says softly and solely out of habit. Dimitriy just grins wider, the same sort of vaguely threatening way as Jeonghan does. A shiver tears down his back. 

“It’s my pleasure.” Seokmin allows his eyes to flit between Jeonghan and the newcomer, his eyebrows raised expectantly. His silent question isn’t answered before Dimitriy speaks again, grinning like a shark when Seokmin meets his eyes once more. “You’re a talented skater, Seokmin.” A blush burns at his cheeks as he forces a smile, even more suspicious as to what Jeonghan is trying to pull currently. 

“Thank you, but it’s all because of Jeonghan.” Dimitriy turns to the blond man with a raised eyebrow, Jeonghan shaking his head immediately back.

“Seokmin has always had a gift for figure skating. I just pulled it out of him.” Dimitriy hums before he turns back to Seokmin, his eyebrow raised in question.

“I have a skater who is one short for pairs skating.” Aaaand there it is , Seokmin thinks bitterly. He still remains polite, manners drilled into him after years of countless parties that no children belonged at and questionable tactics from dear ol’ mom and dad, only shooting Jeonghan a swift glare before he turns his attention back to the other man. “Would you be willing to try out to be his partner?” Seokmin feels his eyebrows twitch at the question, shuffling on his skates as he thinks.

“I’ve never breached the world of competition skating,” Seokmin says, his voice somehow steady and strong despite the pain in his chest, memories of his old career eating at him once more. “This,” he gestures to the ice behind him, “is the closest thing I’ve done to figure skating ever.” Dimitriy hums and looks all the more interested, much to Seokmin’s dismay.

“That makes you even more intriguing, Seokmin. I have not seen that level of skating from an amatuer in a long, long time, my friend.” Seokmin’s eyebrow is in the air in an instant, his eyes wide as they flick between Jeonghan and Dimitriy.

“Just try out,” Jeonghan prods, his gaze knowing. Seokmin can feel his breath starting to shake, the onset of a panic attack building in his chest, but he also knows that there is no way that the two men will let him say no. He needs to get out of the conversation and fast, but the only way to do that is to agree - he’s sure Jeonghan has ensured it. Even with his eyes flickering around the space as the walls cave in, Seokmin forces a swallow and manages somehow to respond.

“I’ll-” Seokmin has to swallow again, feeling sweat start to drip down his back and panic tears at his throat. “I’ll try out,” Jeonghan’s grin is impish even as Seokmin is sure that he looks more than unwell, “but I just remembered, I gotta-” and with a thumb over his shoulder Seokmin hightails out of there. He’s sure Jeonghan can handle exchanging contacts and everything, not like he wants him to, and the thought of Dimitriy calling him out of the blue is one to leave him spiraling so hard he almost loses his footing on the ice. It only makes him move faster, rushing out the gate and grabbing his skate guards, not even bothering to put them on before he bursts through the locker room. Throwing himself down on the bench, Seokmin does manage to get his guards on and his skates off despite how he’s hyperventilating, a feat in it of itself that deserves every award he can currently think of. 

Seokmin ends up cradling his head in his hands as he weeps, praying that Jeonghan doesn’t bother to try and find him. He’s so busy worrying about Jeonghan that he forgets that the rink has been booked right after he and Jeonghan were done fucking around, and the sound of a door opening falls on deaf ears as Seokmin continues to cry. It feels like hours before a small hand lands on his knee, patting a few times when Seokmin refuses to look up. 

“Mr. Seokmin?” It’s a tiny voice, and when Seokmin finally looks up and opens his eyes, he sees the youngest kid in their learn to skate program looking back at him with his green eyes wide and a worried pout on his lips.

“Hi Sean,” Seokmin says softly, scrubbing at his cheeks and pulling himself back together for the sake of the child in front of him. “Did your mom leave you early again?” He shakes his head, head of unruly curls flinging around haphazardly. 

“Ana.” Ah, Seokmin thinks, right. Ana was the name of Sean’s newest nanny, the last one having quit because apparently his parents wanted her to raise Sean rather than them. Seokmin can’t blame her for quitting, not really, but he can’t help but to find his heart aching for Sean. They are far too similar for the poor kid’s sake. 

“How is Ana? Nice?”

“She makes good cookies.” Seokmin smiles back, reaching out to mess up Sean’s curls further as he grins fondly. 

“Did you bring me any?” Just like he had expected, Sean fumbles through his bag for a moment before he produces a ziplock with a wide and toothless grin. Gently, Seokmin takes the bag from the kid with a smile, saying thanks softly and watching as Sean’s grin grows.

“Ana said she’d teach me Spanish too.” Seokmin smiles back, ruffling Sean’s hair one more time for good measure. 

“That’d be super cool, kid. You’re so smart, you’re gonna know it in no time,” Seokmin teases, but the remark still comes out decently genuine. 

“I’ll be just like you!” Seokmin’s heart pangs as it breaks. 

“You’ll be better.”

—

“So, what did the doctor say?” Seungcheol asks over ramen, the two of them at dinner after Seungcheol picked Jihoon up from his appointment earlier.

“Nothing bad. New PT exercises, icing regimen, rest.” He shrugs to punctuate the words, but he knows Seungcheol sees through the action easily, sure that his relief is obvious to the older man. It’s what happens after you’ve been friends for so long, Jihoon supposes, that no matter what he tries to hide Seungcheol will always see it. 

“That’s great.” Though his words are soft, Jihoon knows that they’re no less genuine. Jihoon smiles back at Seungcheol softly before he turns back to his ramen.

“Yeah.”

They eat in silence for a little while, Seungcheol distracted by something on the TV screen and Jihoon people watching peacefully. It’s only when they’re about to ask for the check that Seungcheol brings up a topic Jihoon’s been dreading.

“How’s the partner search?” A heavy sigh leaves him as he scrapes his chopsticks against the bottom of his bowl.

“Shitty. Ivan has one more guy for me to meet and if we don’t work out he’s dropping me for a year.” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are practically at his hairline when Jihoon looks back at him, the expression familiar despite its silliness. 

“Really? He’s making you take a year off?” Jihoon nods sadly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he sighs.

“Said I can finally take the time to heal and have a life for once before I spiralled out of control again, or something like that.” Seungcheol hums curiously, eyes sharp and gaze calculating and watching Jihoon carefully. 

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else is wrong?” Seungcheol reiterates as his gaze narrows. “More than just that is bothering you. Is it whatever’s happening between you and Seokmin?” Jihoon scoffs in an attempt to save face, but he knows that Seungcheol sees through it easily.

The rest of dinner is quiet as Seungcheol pays for the meal, ignoring Jihoon’s small thanks. Instead his gaze is sharp and almost demanding, his aura suffocating when they end up in the car. Seungcheol must know what he’s doing, keeping the radio off and taking the long way to Jihoon’s apartment. His jaw is set and the hand he has off of the wheel is curled into a fist. Jihoon knows he’s pissed, but it doesn’t make the conversation any more welcome. The situation does however become dire when Seungcheol starts to loop around the block, refusing to drop Jihoon off despite his soft inquiries. Finally realizing he’s playing a losing game, Jihoon gives in.

“What do you wanna know?” Seungcheol practically glares at him, an eyebrow raised in a  challenge. 

“What’s your problem with Seokmin? And I don’t want any excuses.” Shit, Jihoon thinks when his brain catches the tone that Seungcheol is using. He’s pissed and protective, meaning that Jihoon is about to get ripped a new asshole unless Seungcheol deems his reasoning enough. 

“I,” Jihoon tries to start, losing his words in the silence of the car. It takes a few moments for him to gather some, trying once more after another deep breath. “Once, once it got tough and something wasn’t handed to him, he gave up. I can’t handle people like that anymore, not after, y’know.” Of course Seungcheol knows what he’s alluding to, the bastard who broke his heart and led to him breaking his leg. “He was just like that and I won’t, no I can’t, do that again.” When Jihoon turns to look, Seungcheol’s expression has gone from angry to blank, telling Jihoon that the amount of rage boiling under Seungcheol’s skin is almost at a critical level. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jihoon has only heard that tone directed at people like his cheating ex-boyfriend, and he can’t help but to feel prickles of fear climbing up his spine. 

“He told me,” Jihoon pauses to take a shaky breath, his eyes on his fidgeting hands in his lap, “he told me that he flamed out at his first NHL tryouts, called it quits right after. The way he was talking about it was so, like, tired, and all I could think of were those yuppies from competitions who threw tantrums when they didn’t win first even when they didn’t deserve to. Y’know, the ones that lost it when they realized daddy’s money couldn’t get them any farther. I just thought he was different.” Jihoon risks a glance at Seungcheol, curling in on himself further when he notices Seungcheol is white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Did he tell you why he flamed out?” Jihoon feels his brows furrow as he considers the question.

“No, I just assumed nerves. Maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought, I dunno.” The breath that Seokmin lets out is practiced and measured, clearly trying to keep himself from reacting violently at Jihoon. 

“And you didn’t look him up?”

“Why would I?” Those are the wrong words to say if the way that Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel means anything, the material creaking underneath his hands. 

“Ask him about why he quit then, and stop being a fucking asshole, Lee Jihoon.”

And with those words, Seungcheol unceremoniously leaves Jihoon at the curb of his building. He can only wonder where he went so wrong, climbing to his apartment with a worn sigh. Something weird is going on, he knows, but he’s not sure he wants to know what. 

—

“I can’t believe Jeonghan gave you a panic attack and you didn’t call me.” Seokmin blinks back at Mingyu, sure that his eyes are wide. He doesn’t even know how they got into this conversation, but the disappointment in Mingyu’s gaze alone is enough to scare him.

“Mingyu-” Mingyu just shakes his head, looking at Seokmin with a sad sort of disappointment.

“I had to hear that you were sad through Sean, Seokmin, Sean. You know, the literal child?” His fingers twist into themselves as he keeps his eyes down on the couch, glad that he can’t see the disappointment and concern that he knows is all over Mingyu’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Mingyu gently takes Seokmin’s hands in his own, trying but failing to get Seokmin to look at him. 

“I’m not mad, Seokmin-ah, I’m just worried. Why didn’t you tell me?” Seokmin hates how well Mingyu knows him, he really does. Holding hands, speaking softly and slowly in Korean rather than their usual conglomeration of so many languages that no one else can keep up— Mingyu’s clearly on damage control and it’s working, annoyingly enough. (It’s what happens when you become attached at the hip when you’re tiny and pick up languages rather easily, at least for survival’s sake. Their little prodigy camp was a giant melting pot of ruined languages, and so Mingyu and Seokmin’s questionably extensive vocabulary in more languages than one could count is more humourous than anything else. Not even Seungcheol can keep up, and he was raised in an international scene almost as much as Seokmin and Mingyu.)

“I didn’t tell you,” Seokmin starts, feeling his hands start to tremble as he forces his breathing to stay regular, “I didn’t tell you ‘cuz it hadn’t finished.” Almost instantly, Seokmin finds himself wrapped in a hug, Mingyu running his hands down Seokmin’s arms and spine and side and head, trying to soothe him with his words before he finally makes the swap to the lullabye Seokmin’s au pair used to sing to him every night. It’s unfortunate that all it does is make him cry.

Seokmin doesn’t know how long it takes, but eventually he does manage to calm himself down within Mingyu’s steady hold. When he pulls away, he offers Mingyu a tentative smile in thanks, mopping up the tears on his cheeks with his baggy sweatshirt sleeves. 

“Sorry,” Seokmin starts, only to be cut off again. 

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what happened?” Mingyu phrases it as though it were a question, giving Seokmin an easy out from the conversation. It’s with a sigh that Seokmin finally starts to explain, but that’s not before he lets his head thunk down onto Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“Jeonghan sorta forced me into competition skating.” Immediately Seokmin feels Mingyu go stiff underneath him.

“Oh?” With a nod, Seokmin feels Mingyu force himself to calm down, the younger man moving to scratch at Seokmin’s scalp. “How’d he do that?”

“Brought a coach into our practice,” Seokmin mumbles. After all, he knows how this goes — there’s no way for him to stop Mingyu’s impending anger. He’s always been protective of Seokmin, and even more so after his accident. Seokmin can’t blame him.

“Without telling you?” Seokmin sighs softly.

“Without telling me.” Mingyu clenches his hand into a fist so hard that his knuckles go white. “I’m guessing it’s not worth it to ask you to calm down?”

“No.”

“Figured,” Seokmin breathes out with a sigh, but he doesn’t bother to say anything else. When Mingyu flairs with protective and righteous anger, well, there’s no stopping that. It’s quiet for a long time before Mingyu sighs this time, his hand easily tracing lines down Seokmin’s back. 

“I’m guessing it’s not worth telling you that you don’t have to do this, huh?” Seokmin snorts at the parrotting of his own words, but he shakes his head all the same. 

“Not really. I mean, it’s just a tryout…” Seokmin trails off, ignoring Mingyu as he shakes his head.

“Seokmin, I love you, but you need to learn how to say no.” Another sigh escapes him as he nods.

“I know.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, both of them stewing in the words and sadness that surrounds them, before Seokmin’s phone buzzes and breaks the silence. With a sniffle Seokmin fumbles for his phone, refusing to move from Mingyu’s shoulder as he opens up his messages. He sort of wishes he had moved away, or at least waited to open it, when he sees who it’s from and what it’s about.

Hannie [19:34]: D will be at the ice tomorrow morning, come at 6 his guy will be there at 8

Hannie [19:34]: He wants to do a run through with u before the other guy gets there

Hannie [19:35]: Look at ur jumps or smt idk

Mingyu huffs and Seokmin can only agree. He is however, forever grateful for Mingyu’s hand that still is tracking up his back. Seokmin sighs once more, slumping further against Mingyu and typing back a shaky response. 

Minnie [19:37]: Fine.

Minnie [19:37]: How long are we talking??

Minnie [19:38]: I do have shit I need to do

Hannie [19:39]: Ouch, how Rude.

Hannie [19:39]: 11, u brat. But that’s only if everything goes well. 

Hannie [19:40]: Could end earlier if u and him don’t work

“I’m going to kill Jeonghan.” Seokmin hums back softly, smacking Mingyu’s stomach with the back of his fingers. It’s not a real hit, not at all, but it’s also enough for Mingyu to take a deep breath. “Fine. No death, but only maiming.” Despite the fact that Mingyu can’t see it, Seokmin rolls his eyes. 

“You’re a dummy.” Mingyu huffs out a laugh, squeezing Seokmin softly.

“I’ll drop you off and wait to take you home?” Instantly, Seokmin shakes his head.

“No, no that’s okay. I’ll call somebody to take me home, I’m not gonna make you wait at a rink for that long.” Mingyu huffs unhappily this time, and it makes Seokmin giggle with how it stirs his hair. They’re quiet again, soft and tired and sad, but it’s broken again by another message by Jeonghan.

Hannie [19:45]: I’m taking ur silence as agreement

Seokmin sighs once more, but the sound can barely leave him before Mingyu tenses beneath him. Humming a question, Seokmin wiggles so that he can finally meet Mingyu’s gaze, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. His concern only worsens as Mingyu cards a hand through his hair, a clearly worried motion.

“Did Jeonghan tell this guy that you’re blind? Like, could it affect this kinda skating?” Seokmin freezes down to his very bones, eyes wide as his brain comes to a screeching halt. 

“Shit.” Mingyu nods.

“Yeah, shit.” Moving so that he can see his phone again, Seokmin still lets Mingyu manhandle him until their sides are pressing against each other. Once again he makes his shaky fingers type out a message, holding his breath as he waits for it to send and then be delivered. 

Minnie [19:50]: You told Dimitriy I’m blind, right?

Jeonghan reads the message but doesn’t respond, prompting Seokmin to send back a quick ??? This time it must do the trick, Jeonghan’s response coming a few minutes later. The only thing that gets him through the tense anticipation is Mingyu’s hand still mapping soft lines across the planes of his back. 

Hannie [18:00]: No. Y would I?

Seokmin stills once more, as does Mingyu. It’s made worse by the next message that comes in a few moments later.

Hannie [18:03]: Would it even affect comp skating?

“I’m going to kill Jeonghan.” Seokmin can’t even really argue. This is a new low for any of his friends, and to reach it with Jeonghan? Someone who he trusts and who he credits for helping him through the grief from his ruined career? Sure, he knows that Jeonghan probably means well and how he doesn’t understand just how detrimental Seokmin’s lack of sight can be, but the offhandedness of the comment is really getting to him. Of course it’ll affect competition skating - it affects almost everything that he does. 

“You can’t,” Seokmin eventually mumbles, hiding his face in Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“I know,” he says softly, rubbing his hand over Seokmin’s back again. “But if he’s forcing you into this, he could at least be considerate about it. You don’t deserve to be put through this shit.” Seokmin sighs again, fighting back tears as he presses himself into Mingyu even further. 

“I know,” he croaks out, his chest shaking with the force of his breaths “Thank you.” Mingyu shrugs, carding his hands through Seokmin’s hair once more before he presses a kiss to the crown of Seokmin’s head. 

“Of course. You’ll always have me, Seokmin-ah, I promise.” Seokmin hums back, squeezing Mingyu’s thigh in a silent thanks. He appreciates Mingyu more than he has words for; he’s beyond grateful that Mingyu seems to understand that without him having to voice it. 

—

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Soonyoung asks softly, catching Jihoon’s arm as he’s about to leave. “Just in case this goes sideways. I can stay.” The words make Jihoon smile even as he shakes his head, climbing out of the car before he responds. 

“Go to the studio, Soonyoungie. I’ll call you if I need to.” Soonyoung shove his hand out before Jihoon can shut the door, his pinky extended towards Jihoon pointedly.

“Promise.” With a roll of his eyes, Jihoon wraps his own pinky around Soonyoung’s.

“I promise. Now go, I’m gonna be late.” With a smile Soonyoung drives off and Jihoon readies himself for what’s inside.

Please let this work. Please let this work. Please let this work.

It’s a mantra that keeps looping in his head as he enters the rink, goes into the locker room, ties his skates. He’s not sure what he wants more, if anything, than this pairs match to work. Despite his animosity to the situation, it’s no secret that he’s aching to compete again. If this new guy is the only way he can? Fuck, then sign him up.

After a few quick stretches Jihoon leaves the locker room, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Ivanov speaking to a man with his back turned. Something in his mind flags as familiar, but Jihoon brushes it off as deja vu; he’s seen this scene what feels like a million times the last few months. He still doesn’t let his mixed emotions deter him, stepping onto the ice and slowly skating towards Ivanov and his new potential partner. 

“Hello,” Jihoon calls out, eyebrows raising as he watches the man stiffen. He doesn’t have too much time to think it over before Ivanov looks at him and claps, smiling wide as he moves to clasp the man’s shoulder.

“Ah, Jihoon,” Ivanov begins, clearly hopeful for the prospects of this pairing. “I’d like to introduce you to your new partner.” Jihoon musters up a smile and waits for the man to turn to him, eyebrows furrowing at the slight hesitation. But when the man finally, finally, looks at him, Jihoon feels his heart fall out of his chest and his stomach lodge into his throat. Fuck.

“Jihoon, I’d like you to meet Seokmin. Seokmin, this is Jihoon.”

“Fuck,” he hears Seokmin mumble and Jihoon couldn’t agree more.

Fuck. fuckfuckfuck.