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Hua Cheng kneels down in the sand like one would before a god. The red satba he wore for the match truly brought him luck, the sash tied around his hips and thigh like the red thread he used to wear on his middle finger in his teenage years.
Xie Lian mirrors him and the motion begs for Hua Cheng to reach out his hands and stop him from lowering himself. Instead, Hua Cheng lowers his eye, though it traitorously darts to the blue sash tied over Xie Lian's hips and he struggles to avert his gaze and not fix it on the loops and the knot that ties them together on the juncture between Xie Lian's hip and leg.
“It's nice to finally fight the only other Chinese man in the Championship,” Xie Lian says, breaking Hua Cheng’s reverie as he finally drags his eye up to meet a friendly gaze.
“Likewise,” he says with a grin, right before they're called to get into position.
Hua Cheng proceeds in the familiar motions with unprecedented unease. When he grabs Xie Lian's blue satba and his knuckles brush against warm skin, his hands almost shake with excitement. His heartbeat quickens as he lays his cheek on the crook between Xie Lian's neck and shoulder and prepare to rise into a standing position. He wonders whether he should get himself admonished by the referee for maintaining the position for a moment longer, delaying the beginning of the match. Despite the thought, he rises dutifully, adjusting his grip over Xie Lian’s sash as he feels him do the same on his own. A shiver runs through him just as the opening whistle is blown and Xie Lian immediately pushes against him.
Hua Cheng fists his hands tighter on the satba and instinctively pushes back, trying to use the all his strength to gain a quick victory and avoid embarrassing himself. To his surprise, Xie Lian doesn't respond with force. Instead, he quickly leans his left shin against Hua Chengs's upper thigh, his right leg follows and he rests it on the left’s calf as he raises himself up, both feet leaving the ground. Xie Lian's weight is entirely on him for a distracting, blissful moment and Hua Cheng can’t think about anything other than the warmth of their bodies pressed together. He snaps out of the thought with a feeling akin to fear and rushes to try and use the position to his advantage, yet, just as he is about to turn and slam them both to the ground, Xie Lian leaps down, knees bending and stabilizing him over the sand without effort. His hold tightens on Hua Cheng’s red sash and just as his stomach coils at the sensation, Xie Lian moves his right leg between his and, with a sudden push, breaks his balance and topples him to the ground.
They lay one over the other in the sand for much too short a moment for Hua Cheng’s heart and much too long for his peace of mind. He looks up at Xie Lian with the same sense of adoration he’s had for him since he was but a child and sees the man’s eyes turn round. Just then, the stadium erupts in cheers and calls for them to quickly get up and get ready for the next rounds, so Xie Lian mumbles a “right, right,” and scoots away from him. With an awkward smile he offers his hand to Hua Cheng and hoists him up on his feet. Just as Hua Cheng turns to retreat to the edge of the sand ring, drink some water and have his coach berate him for losing the first round, he feels a shy touch against his lower back and turns just in time to see Xie Lian stroking away some sand from his skin. “Thanks,” he murmurs a bit dazedly and receives a nod and a smile in reply before Xie Lian turns and steps away for the break.
Hua Cheng loses all the remaining rounds.
***
The very cold shower Hua Cheng tries to take is interrupted by the echo of footsteps against the tiled walls and a familiar voice calling from behind him.
“Good match,” Xie Lian says warmly, stopping a showerhead away from him and turning on the water. He stares at Hua Cheng's face for a moment longer than is appropriate before leaning fully under the spray, slowly closing his eyes and relaxing into the steam that rises around him. With his eyes still closed he asks casually, “Hua Cheng, you don't happen to be from Jilin, right?”
Hua Cheng's body freezes truly for the first time despite the icy cold water he has been standing under for a while.
Memories flash before. First it’s the afternoon when an high-school boy stood up for him against one of his older brothers who was dragging him home less than gently. He remembers watching Xie Lian fight his thug of a brother effortlessly and then remembers following him to the fancy house on the other side of the city where Xie Lian lived with his parents. The days they spent together afterwards weren’t many, as Xie Lian's father moved the family to Korea a few months after their meeting, but Hua Cheng had memorized and cherished all of them as the most peaceful, loving moments in his life. When, a few months after Xie Lian's departure, he discovered that the boy had started a professional career in ssireum, Hua Cheng, caught between the desire of meeting him again and the idolizing wish to emulate, found a part-time job in Yanji, a hole he could live in and a school where the rickety gym taught the sport. He has practiced ssireum tirelessly ever since.
He turns to Xie Lian wearing an easy grin as cold water sluices down his spine and he can blame its bite for the breathlessness he feels. “I didn't think gege would remember me.”
“Of course I do!” Xie Lian exclaims. “You always came to my encounters even when they were just small school tournaments in Yanji, how could I forget? That, and stuffing our faces with cold noodles afterwards….”
Hua Cheng groans, passing a hand over his face with the excuse of brushing off a few water droplets and smoothening back his hair. “I had hoped to have changed a bit since then. Did gege really recognize me that easily?”
At his words, the flush on Xie Lian's chest and neck from the hot water spread to his cheeks and the tip of his ears. “Ah, I hadn't recognized you at first, but….” He hesitates. “When I won the first round, you looked up at me and you had this look in your eye that you always used to - ” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. “Haha, it’s just something that I had come to associate with you. Between your inflection and all, it was just a lucky guess, Hong-er!”
Hua Cheng flinches at hearing his old nickname. He steps out of the cold spray and, still dripping wet, crosses the empty space between them and gives Xie Lian a too formal bow for an empty shower room of a mid-tier gymnasium. “Hua Cheng,” he says. “But I prefer to be called San Lang.” By Xie Lian alone, he doesn’t add.
Xie Lian looks at him, stunned for a gratifying moment, then he chuckles and gives a small bow in turn. “Nice to meet you again, San Lang.”
A long moment passes. Hua Cheng moves back to his shower, despite not having a single grain of sand or drop of sweat left on his body. He’s trying to find a moment of their match to remark on and keep them talking when Xie Lian asks lightly, “Are you going out to celebrate with your team tonight?”
Hua Cheng pauses. “I don't know about the others but I won't be joining them if they do. I can't say my team likes me very much.”
A frown forms between Xie Lian's brows, as if Hua Cheng’s socializing issues were a concern of his. Then, quickly enough, it smoothens back and, with a grin, he offers. “Well, then, why don't you join our team's dinner? I’ve heard we’ll go to a nice seafood place, close to the beach!”
***
Dinner is an entirely awkward affair. Xie Lian's teammates look utterly surprised by the sudden intrusion of one of their opponents in their after-match feast and one with such a hostile reputation to boost. None of them tries to hide the displeasure.
To their chagrin and Hua Cheng's endless satisfaction, Xie Lian doesn't pay them any mind and spends the whole evening chatting with him, curious about how his life was after his departure and even more about his current situation.
It's a thrilling, blissful couple of hours that pass as if in a dream.
It certainly feels oniric when the plates in the middle of the table are scraped clean, the bottles almost empty and, when Xie Lian’s friends start suggesting they go back to the hotel, he asks Hua Cheng if he wants to have a rematch on the beach instead.
When they find a suitable spot, the sand under his feet is slightly wet and it flows cold under each step he takes to ready his stance. The beach is mostly dark, but the lights from the nearby establishments illuminate enough for them to see.
“Ready?” Xie Lian asks, kneeling in front of him in the sand. The picture alone makes Hua Cheng's movements quicken so that he can join him and avoid looking at Xie Lian, on his knees before him, long enough that he loses the rematch before it can start. He fastens the sash that Xie Lian took from his bag over his jeans, fingers tying the familiar knot out of instinct more than conscious action, then falls to his knees gracelessly.
When they start, the closeness between them is immediately heady. Hua Cheng grips Xie Lian's satba with an edge of desperation. They push and pull against each other, losing balance and regaining it before anyone can win. After a couple of minutes, though, his shoulder gives a particularly precise shove against Xie Lian’s and he feels one of a hands slip from the loop tied around his own upper thigh, quickly slither up and over Hua Cheng's shoulders to try and grab his sash from behind.
It's a sudden gesture and the resemblance to a hug almost distracts him enough to fall back and lose on his own, but quickly Xie Lian's arm withdraws, unable to grab the back of the satba and he reaches for the front of it once more. In a moment, Hua Cheng pushes against him, right as Xie Lian's hand slips once more into the loop of the sash and takes a hold of it. Xie Lian’s fingers wrap around the fabric too late, his right leg bends and he loses balance, falling on his back in the sand and bringing Hua Cheng with him.
“I won,” Hua Cheng says, stunned and panting for the effort, his hands sinking into the wet sand on both sides of Xie Lian's head. Xie Lian doesn't reply, but when Hua Cheng makes to lean back and stand up, the hold on both loops of his sash is still strong and Xie Lian uses it to pull him closer instead of allowing him to scoot back.
Hua Cheng only manages to direct a wide-eyed look at him before the grip on his satba loosens and Xie Lian's hands rush to grab the collar of his shirt instead and pull him into a kiss.