Chapter Text
The cool bite of the ice rink welcomed Jaemin as he stepped onto the smooth surface, the familiar sensation instantly calming him. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sound of his skates gliding over the ice fill the empty space around him. It was early, still quiet before the full practice started. Renjun and Sunghoon were already on the ice, warming up, but their female teammates were - as so often - running a little late.
Renjun, with his sharp, precise lines, was practicing his footwork near the boards, a look of quiet concentration on his face. Sunghoon was near the center of the rink, spinning effortlessly, his black hair catching the morning light as he moved. He had always been the flashiest among them, his jumps higher, his spins faster, but today even his easy grace seemed more subdued for some reason. He was probably just waiting for Wongyoung, his skating partner. They were the only duo on their team and complimented each other’s styles perfectly. A lethal combination of both elegance and grace.
Jaemin joined Renjun and Sunghoon, his body easing into the rhythm of the ice, the cold air biting at his cheeks. It was supposed to be a normal day, one filled with hours of refining routines, perfecting jumps, and losing themselves in their world of music and movement. The new term had just started, and the first competition was still weeks away. They had trained over the summer, of course they had, but not as often as they usually did during term. It would take a few training sessions for them to get back into their usual routine.
Jaemin was happy to be back, the cool air around him a welcome reprise from the late summer waiting for him outside. Despite being a highly competitive field, the figure skating rink was his happy place, where he came to think and let go of his worries.
But today, there was something… unsettling in the air. Almost foreboding.
Renjun skated up beside Jaemin, his eyes flicking toward the rink entrance where ice figure skating legend turned college coach Nakamoto Yuta stood talking to one of the rink staff, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “You think something’s up?” he asked, his breath puffing out in the cold air.
Jaemin frowned, glancing at their coach. “I don’t know. But he looks tense.” Sunghoon, always the most laid-back of the group, skated up and slid to a stop with a grin. “Maybe he’s mad because we’re all looking too good today,” he teased, giving Jaemin a flirty wink.
Before Jaemin could reply, Nakamoto Yuta skated toward them, his usually warm smile replaced with something more somber. The moment he reached them, Jaemin felt a knot of anxiety twist in his stomach. The coach stopped, folding his arms across his chest, long, black hair framing his sharp face. His eyes were dull today. “Guys, I’ve got some news, and I need you to hear me out before you react.”
Jaemin and Renjun exchanged a glance, and Sunghoon’s playful smirk faded. Their coach’s tone was too serious for this to be anything minor.
“There was a flooding issue at the hockey rink last night,” Coach Nakamoto began, his eyes scanning his students’ faces as he spoke. “It’s completely unusable for the time being, and repairs are going to take at least a few… weeks.”
Jaemin’s heart sank, already sensing where this was going.
Their coach sighed. “The hockey team is going to be using this rink until theirs is fixed.”
Silence hung in the air, cold and heavy. Jaemin’s jaw clenched, frustration building in his chest.
Of course. Hockey. Again. It always was.
Sunghoon was the first to break the silence, crossing his arms with a scoff. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way we’re sharing the ice with them. Not again.” Renjun nodded, his voice calm but edged with annoyance. “Coach, we barely get enough time as it is, with classes, study sessions and whatnot. And every time we have to share our rink, we lose hours of practice because hockey always gets priority. Even though this is our rink!”
Coach Nakamoto held up his hands, his golden wedding ring catching the light. “I get it, guys. I do. This wasn’t my decision - but the order came from high up; from Chancellor Choi himself. I fought to keep your usual practice times, but the reality is, we’re going to have to share the rink and make some adjustments.”
Jaemin felt the frustration burning in his chest, pushing him to speak. “It’s always like this, though. We’re constantly getting pushed around because ice hockey is considered more important. Why can’t they figure out another solution? Why do we have to lose practice time? It’s our rink, after all! It’s not our fault theirs flooded.”
The coach's expression softened, but his voice remained firm. “I know it’s frustrating. But the rink belongs to both teams now, it’s not like the hockey team has any other option. We’ll just have to make it work somehow.”
Jaemin let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his freshly dyed, silver hair. Renjun had already jokingly started calling him 'Elsa'. “How? We have to start prepping for our competitions, and we can’t afford to lose any time. You know what it’s like when we have to share - there’s barely enough space as it is, and it’s impossible to focus with pucks flying everywhere. We’ll have to practice once they’re off the ice and we all know they like to overstay their welcome.”
Sunghoon nodded vigorously, his usual calm demeanor cracking. “Jaemin is right. They always overstay their time. It’s like figure skating is just an afterthought - they don‘t take us seriously. They have zero respect for us!”
Coach Nakamoto sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes dark and expression heavy. “I’ve already talked to hockey Coach Suh. I’ve made it clear that we have to come up with a schedule that works for everyone and that said schedule needs to be followed. I'm on your side here, and I’ll make sure everything's going to go as smoothly as possible.”
Jaemin clenched his fists, feeling the weight of all the times they’d been forced off the ice early or had to work around hockey drills whenever their rink had been closed due to maintenance. Whenever the figure skating rink was closed, they just had to stay off the ice, hockey practice too precious in the eyes of their university. It was always the same story - ice hockey took priority because it drew more attention, more funding, and more prestige. Figure skating, on the other hand, was seen as a graceful but secondary sport.
After a short, tense silence, Jaemin, always the voice of reason, spoke up again, his frustration quieter now but no less intense. “We’re not saying we don’t get it, Coach. It’s just… this always happens. Every time something goes wrong for hockey, we figure skaters pay for it.”
Coach Nakamoto looked at them, his expression sympathetic but resolute. “I hear you, and I agree it’s not fair. But this is the situation, and we have to make the best of it. I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get the time you need.”
Renjun shook his head, his voice low and bitter. “Hockey always wins, doesn’t it?”
Their coach's eyes softened. “Not on my watch, Renjun. Not this time.”
The words were meant to comfort, but they didn’t erase the frustration boiling under Jaemin’s skin. He loved figure skating more than anything, had dedicated his life to it. And every time something like this happened, it felt like the world was telling him it didn’t matter. That all the hours, the pain, the bruises, the endless work - it all came second to a sport that was louder and rougher, a sport that always got the spotlight. A sport for 'real men'.
Sunghoon threw his hands up, exasperated. “Well, this is great. Guess we better get used to dodging pucks while we practice spins.”
Renjun sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement. “Looks like it.”
Jaemin remained silent, staring out over the rink. The ice had always been his sanctuary, the place where he felt free. But now, it felt like he was losing that too. He glanced at Coach Nakamoto, then back at Renjun and Sunghoon, his heart heavy. “We’ll deal with it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “But we’re not going to take any of their usual shit.”
Renjun smiled faintly. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”
Sunghoon shrugged, but his grin returned despite the frustration in his eyes. “Let’s just make sure we out-skate them. Show them that figure skating deserves this ice as much as they do - or maybe even more.”
Jaemin nodded, determination hardening in his chest. “That’s the spirit.”
They skated off together, preparing to start their warmups despite the bad news. If they had to share the ice, then so be it - but they weren’t going to let hockey push them aside without a fight.
❄ ❄ ❄
The figure skater’s locker room was a mix of quiet tension and unspoken frustration after today’s practice. Jaemin, Renjun, Sunghoon, Yerim, Wonyoung and Minjeong sat in various states of agitation, the news still hanging heavy in the air. Their schedule would be a tight one; early in the morning or late in the evening. Of course the ice hockey team had gotten the best practice hours.
Jaemin paced near the benches, his brows furrowed in frustration. He’d changed out of his training gear into sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, fiddling with his sweater paws. “This is ridiculous. We barely get enough practice time as it is. And now we’re supposed to give up the best training hours for them? They’ll still just hog the rink like they always do, no matter what our schedule says.”
Yerim, seated on one of the benches, absentmindedly laced and unlaced her skates. Her expression was thoughtful but determined, sleek, black hair falling forward and hiding her dark eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jaemin. I think you should talk to Mark.”
Jaemin stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, his disbelief evident. “Mark? As in Mark Lee? The captain of the ice hockey team? That’s your solution?”
Yerim raised her chin defiantly, eyes blazing. “Yes. If we explain our side and come up with a schedule that works better for both teams, maybe we won’t get pushed around. We deserve to be training in the afternoons too! We can’t just accept this without at least trying to negotiate.”
Renjun, sitting beside her, nodded in agreement. “Yeri’s right, Nana. We can’t act like they’ll automatically steamroll us. We need to make sure we’re heard.”
Jaemin let out an exasperated sigh, running his hand through his still slightly damp hair. “You guys are acting like they’ll care. The hockey players think they own any rink. They’re not going to care about our routines or how much time and space we need for practice. To them, figure skating isn’t even a real sport.” His voice was laced with disgust.
Sunghoon, who‘d been leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, spoke up. “I mean, Jaemin’s got a point. I’ve overheard them talking. They see us as, like, fancy dancers on ice, not real athletes with actual sports scholarships like themselves.”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes. “Come on guys, not all of them are like that. Some of them respect what we do. Just because a few jerks run their mouths doesn’t mean the whole team’s the same.”
Jaemin huffed, the memory of previous interactions with the ice hockey players bubbling up in his mind. “Maybe, but Mark? He’s not just ‘a few jerks.’ He’s their new captain - so he sets the tone for the whole team. And trust me, I’ve heard about how he handles things. He won’t give us a fair shot. Hockey is always their number one priority.”
Minjeong stood up, her hands on her hips, the fire in her eyes unmistakable. She had dyed her hair the same silvery shade as Jaemin, making them look more like siblings than just teammates and friends. “So what do you want to do, Jaemin? Just sit back and let them walk all over us? If we don’t say something now, we’ll be stuck practicing at the worst times, whenever hockey’s done with the rink. We’ll have to wait for their overtime to end, and we’ll be left with scraps. You‘re our team captain, and we need you now more than ever.”
Jaemin opened his mouth to argue, but Minjeong continued before he could speak. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But if we approach Mark as equals, if we lay down the facts - that we have competitions, that our practices are just as important as theirs - maybe we can work out a better schedule. It’s better than just doing nothing.”
Renjun stood up too now, crossing his arms. His fox-like face looked harsher than usual under the fluorescent lights, jawline sharp. “Nana, I get why you’re angry. I’m mad too. But the girls are right. If we don’t try to at least talk to Mark and the ice hockey team, we’re just admitting defeat before the fight even starts. If we show them we’re serious, they might listen.”
Jaemin shook his head, the idea of relying on the hockey team - especially Mark Lee - rubbing him the wrong way. Mark was everything Jaemin disliked about hockey players - not that he actually knew him personally. But he always seemed so cocky and overly confident, looking like he owned the entire campus. He'd surely brush off figure skating like it was some after-school hobby. Just like his predecessor had done last term. Jaemin had seen the way Mark and his teammates took over the figure skating rink every time maintenance closed theirs for their matches‘ preparations, staying late and leaving them with barely any time to rehearse. The idea of negotiating with someone like that felt hopeless.
“We’re athletes too,” Renjun added, his voice calm but firm. “And we’ve earned just as much respect on this ice as they have.”
Sunghoon, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally chimed in. “Look, I’m not a fan of the ice hockey team either, but we need our practice. If talking to Mark is the only way to get it, we might as well give it a shot - or well, you might as well give it a shot, being our captain and all.” He gave Jaemin a bright, angelic smile that made his captain snort. He really shouldn’t have agreed to take over the position once Xiaojun had graduated last year.
Jaemin stared at his team members for a few more seconds, concern bubbling up inside his chest. He didn’t want to be the one to go along with this idea. He didn’t want to admit that maybe the others were right. And he surely didn’t want to be the one talking to Mark Lee. But the thought of being forced to practice at the worst hours of the day or of having to dodge pucks and wait around for the hockey players to finish made him feel sick.
Yerim, seeing the conflict on her friend’s handsome face, softened her voice. “Jaemin, we’re not giving up by talking to them. We’re standing up for ourselves. If we don’t fight for our right to be on the ice, who will? Coach Nakamoto can only do so much.”
Jaemin looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. She was right. He hated that she was right, but she was. Still, something in him rebelled against the idea of almost begging the hockey players - especially Mark Lee - to see them as equals.
He sighed heavily, finally speaking. “Fine. But I’m not expecting much from Mark. If this goes south, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Minjeong just smiled, her determination unwavering. “Then we’ll handle it together.”
Jaemin shook his head slightly, still reluctant but resigned. “Alright. But if he pulls any of his hockey-is-more-important crap, I might resort to violence.”
Renjun grinned, patting Jaemin on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back. And we all know Sunghoon packs a mean punch. If Mark tries anything, we’ll just remind him that figure skaters aren’t so easy to push around.”
Sunghoon raised one eyebrow and started shadow-boxing, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Exactly! Maybe we should just challenge them to a skate-off. See how they handle spins and actual footwork.”
Wonyoung laughed, though her eyes remained focused. “Maybe after we get our ice time back.”
The group shared a brief, tense silence before Jaemin broke it, sighing. “Alright, let’s do this. And if Mark tries to act like they’re doing us a favor, I’m not going to sit there quietly.”
Yerim smirked. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
As they started heading back to the ice for the remainder of their practice, Jaemin couldn’t shake the feeling that talking to Mark wouldn’t be as simple as his team seemed to think. The rivalry between figure skating and ice hockey had always been there, bubbling just under the surface.
But this time, they couldn’t afford to lose.
❄ ❄ ❄
The ice hockey team’s locker room was unusually quiet for once, the usual pre-practice banter replaced by a mix of tension and frustration.
Mark Lee, captain of the hockey team, sat on the bench with his arms folded across his broad chest, staring down at the floor as his team processed today’s news. Jeno, his co-captain, fiddled with one of his gloves while leaning against the lockers next to him, already sensing the eruption that was coming.
"Are you serious right now?" Donghyuck, one of their defensemen, exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Our rink is flooded?! And we have to share with the figure skaters? For weeks? How are we supposed to train for our upcoming games?" He raked his fingers through his reddish hair in frustration.
“Yeah, this is bullshit,” added Yangyang, their second defenseman, and shook his head. "We can't run proper drills with them twirling around everywhere. It’s going to be chaos."
The room buzzed with a mixture of complaints, all circling the same problem: the hockey rink had flooded due to a malfunctioning pipe, leaving them temporarily displaced. The solution, as Coach Suh had explained to Mark and Jeno before their first practice of the season, was to share the figure skaters’ rink - a situation most of the team didn’t take kindly to.
Mark sighed, standing up and raising his slender hands. “Alright, alright, everyone chill out for a second.”
The room quieted somewhat, though there were still murmurs of discontent. Chenle seemed ready to fight someone, and Jisung, the youngest of their team, sat beside him looking unbearably upset at the whole ordeal. Mark took a deep breath, glancing at Jeno, who nodded, ready to back him up.
“Look, I get it. This isn’t ideal,” Mark started, trying to keep his voice calm. “But it’s not the end of the world. The rink’s going to be under repair for a few weeks, and until it’s fixed, we’ll just have to make do. It’s either that, or we don’t practice at all.”
Donghyuck scoffed, folding his arms. “But why do we have to share? Can’t they just give us the rink? We have actual games to prepare for.”
Jeno chimed in, stepping forward. “Because it‘s their rink, Donghyuck. It’s nice enough that the figure skaters let us use it. It’s not like we can just kick them out. They’ve got competitions coming up, same as us.”
Mark nodded, grateful for Jeno’s support. His level-headedness was exactly why Mark had chosen him as his co-captain. “Exactly. We need to find a way to share the ice, and that means working out a schedule that works for both teams. Coach Suh has proposed we get the rink from 11am till 7pm, which will give us plenty of time to practice.”
There was a pause, the team still visibly unhappy, but at least they were listening. Chenle frowned, blond dyed hair falling into his eyes, and leaned back against the lockers. “You think they’re actually going to cooperate with us? Those skaters always act like they’re on some kind of artistic mission, as if they’re better than us. How are we supposed to share when they’ll probably hog the rink and whine if we even look at the ice wrong?”
There were a few nods of agreement from the rest of the team, the tension creeping back into the room.
Mark frowned, feeling the weight of the situation. He had always prided himself on being a fair captain, someone who kept the team in high spirits, but this was going to be tricky. The ice hockey team didn’t respect the figure skaters, and he knew it. To them, figure skating was an elegant display, something they watched on TV during the Olympics, not something that involved the same grit and sweat as their own sport. He himself had thought the same for too long as well. But then, Coach Suh had made him attend their practice a few times last year, shortly before he was voted the team’s new captain. Their elegance on the ice had been unmatched, and Mark might even have been a little envious of the way they seemed to float through the air.
“Look,” Mark began again, his voice firm. “I get that some of you don’t take figure skating seriously, but that’s not the point. We don’t have to like it, but we do need to respect it. Their team is training just as hard as we are for their competitions.”
Jeno, who had been mostly silent up until this point, finally stepped forward, crossing his arms. “Besides, it’s not like we have much of a choice. Our rink is wrecked. If we don’t share, we don’t practice, and that means we’re not prepared for upcoming matches.”
Mark could see some of the guys relaxing a bit, though the frustration was still clear on their faces. This wasn’t going to be easy, but at least Jeno was helping to ground them. Always their anchor.
“I’ll handle the scheduling,” Mark said after a moment. “And talk to Jaemin.”
The mention of Jaemin’s name made Jeno’s head snap up, and Mark caught the brief flicker of something in his friend’s eyes. He’d already been suspecting that Jeno was nursing a bit of a crush on Jaemin, though his co-captain had never said anything outright. Coach Suh had made Jeno attend a few of the figure skater’s practices as well, and the co-captain’s eyes had followed the pretty, lithe figure skater more often than not. Jaemin wasn’t exactly the kind of person an ice hockey player like Jeno would usually go for, but Mark had seen the way his friend’s gaze lingered whenever Jaemin was on the ice, especially with those pretty doe-eyes of his. Jaemin always seemed cool and collected, off and on the ice, but his usual attitude towards the ice hockey team made a glacier look warm and friendly in comparison.
Jeno coughed slightly, trying to play it cool. “Uh, yeah, Jaemin’s their new captain. He’ll probably be the best person to talk to. He’s… reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” Donghyuck snorted. “The guy’s a diva. Every time I see him, he’s either mid-spin or giving us the dirtiest look like we’re invading his precious ice.”
Mark rolled his eyes, brushing off Donghyuck’s comment. “Jaemin’s a competitor, just like us. I’m sure if we approach him with a solid plan, we can work something out.”
Jeno nodded, though he looked a little more tense now. “He’s serious about skating. He won’t want to lose practice time any more than we do, but if we can figure out a schedule that lets both teams be on the ice without getting in each other’s way, it’ll be fine.”
Mark appreciated Jeno’s optimism, even though he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Sharing the rink was going to be a balancing act, and getting the rest of the hockey team on board would be just as difficult as convincing the figure skaters.
“Alright,” Mark said and clapped his hands, looking around at his team. “Here’s the plan. I’ll talk to Jaemin and see if Coach Suh’s schedule works for them as well. In the meantime, I need you guys to keep cool. No fighting over the rink, no trashing their practice times. If we’re respectful, they’ll have no reason to push back.”
The team grumbled, but no one objected outright. Mark knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could hope for.
“Good,” Mark said, and gave a short nod. “We’ll figure this out. We’ve handled worse, right?”
Jeno shot him a small smile, though there was still an edge of nervousness in his eyes - nervousness that Mark suspected had more to do with seeing Jaemin up close than the logistics of the rink. The thought of Jeno having to interact with his crush, especially in a tense situation like this, almost made Mark laugh. Jeno could be very smooth and suave, especially on the ice, but definitely not around someone he harbored a crush on. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.
“Okay, guys, let’s head out,” Jeno said, shaking his head and pulling his helmet out of his locker. He turned towards Mark. “You better come up with one hell of an argument for the current schedule, though. I don’t think Jaemin’s the type to compromise easily.”
Mark grinned, grabbing his own helmet. “I’ll handle it. You just make sure the team doesn’t do anything stupid.”
As they left the locker room, the tension still lingering but beginning to ease, Mark couldn’t help but think about the inevitable conversation he’d be having with Jaemin. He had always admired the figure skater’s intensity on the ice, even if their worlds didn’t often overlap. But now, their teams were going to be forced together in a way neither side would enjoy.
And if Jeno’s crush on Jaemin made things any more complicated… well, that was a bridge they’d have to cross later. For now, all Mark could do was hope that when he and Jaemin finally sat down to talk, they would find a way to share the ice without tearing their teams apart.
And maybe, just maybe, give Jeno a chance to get a little closer to his unexpected crush.
Mark was nothing if not a good wingman after all.