Work Text:
Five!
Mark can feel his clammy fingers tightening around the hockey stick as he pushes against number 11 of the opposite team, successfully making him fly against the railing and stealing the puck.
Four!
He looks up at the timer.
Everything feels like it’s in slow motion - he knows it’s not, he knows what feels like an eternity is just a mere millisecond, but he still takes his time, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes, using the little moment of calm he has.
Before he can register it himself, his feet are moving on their own accord.
Mark is gliding on the ice, trying his best to catch some speed and praying to the gods that Johnny and Sungchan will have his back and keep most of the rival team players at bay.
Three!
It doesn’t take long before he is in front of the goalie, who is on his knees, padding scraping the ice as he moves around, trying to guess where Mark is going to aim the puck.
The joke’s on him, though.
Not even Mark knows where he is aiming at this point. Should he go for the right? Coach had said that the goalie is slower whenever the offense players shoot it there - but wouldn’t that be too obvious?
Mark’s left shoots are so much better and there is a lot more free space there. He knows, though, that there’s a big chance the defense players would get there quickly enough to maybe save the puck from going in.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He needs to decide right now.
There’s so much riding on this choice - this is not only about breaking the current draw of the game but about winning the championship, about his future, and being picked up for a professional team, this is about -
Two!
“You can do it, Mark!”
He snaps his head in the direction of the voice. In the midst of all the chaos, not only in his head but also on the field, Jeno is almost like a beacon of light.
Jeno is glowing, smiling widely as he cheers for him.
Even from this far away, Mark can see the leftover remnants of blue and purple paint on his cheek and the way his eyes crinkle into the cutest half-moons he has ever seen as they make direct eye contact.
It makes his heart stutter in his chest, excitement and joy and confidence so powerful Mark wasn’t even aware he could possess flowing through his veins.
Jeno’s right.
Mark can do this.
One!
Before he notices, the puck is off, Mark having shot it right smack in the middle.
In any other case, he would probably be cursing himself right now, it’s the objectively dumbest choice to make, the easiest puck to defend is the one that’s aimed right at you, but by some miracle, the goalie moves to the right, as if he had expected Mark to go for the safe choice.
In the few seconds, it takes for the puck to smack against the net and the whole ice hall to erupt in cheers, his teammates are already by his side.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Mark can’t help but ask, taking his helmet off and blinking up at the scoreboard in utter shock - and surprise - and a lot of happiness. Johnny screams something back at him that he can’t quite understand, tackling him into a hug so strong they both end up sprawled on the floor. “We won?”
Mark blinks up at the ceiling.
They won.
He did it - he won.
His world gets thrown upside down as his coach - Minho - pulls him up and into a hug. As he rants and pats Mark’s head, Mark can’t quite concentrate, all he can see and think of in the midst of the constant buzzing in his head is Jeno.
Jeno, who is excitedly talking to Renjun and Donghyuck.
Jeno, whose eyes are sparkling so brightly and prettily even from a distance.
Jeno, who Mark has been in love with ever since he was four years old and walked into the doorframe of his kindergarten class because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Jeno.
Jeno Jeno Jeno Jeno Jeno.
“Sorry, sir,” Mark interrupts Minho, who stops talking immediately.
He removes his gloves, and his elbow pads, carelessly throwing them onto the ice, and skates towards Jeno. Before he can think twice, his hand is reaching for the collar of Jeno’s black hoodie and reeling him in.
Jeno stumbles, blinking in confusion for a few seconds.
“Hi,” he greets.
It makes Mark sputter in his track. With his force, he had made Jeno and he come face to face, lips only inches apart. He thinks it’s kind of unfair how put together and fucking hot Jeno sounds under the circumstances.
As he watches Jeno’s mouth form into a smirk, his eyes traveling from Mark’s eyes to his nose to his lips, he can feel a blush start to spread from his neck up to his cheeks.
Fuck .
Jeno is so fucking pretty.
“Cat got your tongue?” Jeno asks, giggling happily, seemingly unfazed.
Mark licks his lips, his eyes tracking every movement of Jeno’s own, taking in how nice it feels to be this close.
He can’t say they haven’t been this close before.
They’ve been dancing around each other for a while - or well, Mark has been chickening out from asking him out since they were 12.
Jeno has never had much of an issue showing Mark how much he likes him, God, he can still remember Jeno’s tiny hands reaching out for his cheeks and pulling him in, saying “Hyung, I want you to be my first kiss! It needs to be special!” and then smacking their lips together.
It had been nice - so nice, Mark had gotten used to giving him little pecks and cheek kisses until they were 16 and noticed that it wasn’t all that normal to do that to your best friend.
Mark had been easily influenced then, too concentrated to notice how his dream of becoming a professional hockey player and the popularity that brought to him was making him let go of the things - and the people - he deemed most important to him.
It had made him so self-conscious to know how many people had eyes on him, looking at who he was talking to, who his friends were, and who he was dating.
Jeno had been so introverted, so shy, and it had made Mark feel bad for putting him through all that. Still, Jeno had always found a way to stay connected to him, pouting as he pulled him into the art room and used any excuse he could to keep Mark with him a little bit longer.
The hours upon hours Mark had spent in weird poses for Jeno to draw, or the nights they had sneaked in because Jeno used an unfinished building sketch or random bursts of creativity as an excuse only to end up on the school’s rooftop, limbs wrapped around each other and Jeno’s hand pillowed on Mark’s chest while he pointed at all the different star constellations he knew.
Even in college, while Mark had tried his best to move on, to get a grip and start loving anybody else, Jeno had always been confident, a constant in his life.
Picking up the broken pieces of Mark’s heart after another failed relationship or loss of a hockey game and doing his best to put it back together with a small smile, with so much ease it made Mark’s heart yearn for him so much more.
Throughout all of it, there had always been one question burning at the tip of Mark’s tongue.
Always wanting to escape at the most inopportune moments, always making Mark bite his cheek in an effort to hold it in so as not to ruin their years of friendship together.
“Will you - will you go on a date with me, bro?” Mark blurts out.
Oh god.
Mark stumbles backward, his hand loosening around Jeno’s hoodie as he tries to understand what he just said - what he just asked.
Bro? Bro…
Why had he said “bro”?
That’s so embarrassing, the ground needs to swallow him whole right now, this cannot be happening to him right now, why would he fuck it up like that? It was supposed to be special, to be perfect, he’s such a loser, oh my -
Jeno laughs.
Mark does a double-take.
For all that Jeno is smart and handsome and self-assured, there are only a handful of times he gets bashful. This is one of them.
He’s blushing, cheeks bright red as he looks away.
His confident smirk has been replaced by a shy smile and Mark needs - Mark needs to kiss him so badly.
“Can I kiss you?”
Mark needs to shut up, for real, but he can’t, not when Jeno is looking so pretty.
Instead of answering, Jeno looks at him from under his eyelashes for a split second and then, cups Mark’s cheeks like he did when he was 12. He pulls him in, softly pressing his lips against Mark’s.
“Yes, yes, I’d like to go on a date with you,” Jeno whispers, only for Mark to hear. “Bro.”
A protest is about to escape his lips when Jeno leans in for another kiss.
God, Mark would have asked him out so much sooner if he knew that it’d be this easy, that that was all it took to have Jeno in his arm, kissing his nose and his cheeks and his lips while giggling.
“I like you so much,” Mark says when they pull away, softly caressing Jeno’s cheeks.
“I know,” Jeno laughs. “It kind of makes you look stupid, really.”
“What - ?”
“But I like it,” Jeno continues while smiling, wrapping his arms around Mark and nuzzling into his neck. “I like my man a little stupid, anyways.”
Mark would be offended - but honestly, he doesn’t mind, so he laughs along, hugging Jeno tightly.
(“How do we break it to them that they both look like dumbasses?” Renjun whispers to Donghyuck, looking at the two of their friends still in their own little world while half of the hall has already emptied out.
Donghyuck snorts.
“There’s no way they’d understand,” he replies, holding onto Renjun’s hand. “Anyways, how much do you wanna bet they’ll get kicked out by the security guards? I’ll put down 5 bucks.”
“10 bucks and I say, Coach Lee will pull Mark by the ear and scold him for not celebrating with the team,” Renjun replies, kissing Hyuck’s cheek.
“Wonderful.”)