Loren Writes - Tumblr Posts
Helpđđ€Łđ€Łmy stomach hurts because I can't stop laughing while reading this
boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut
genre: ot8 x gn!reader, smut, crack, fake texts
c/w: explicit content - mdni, swearing, dirty jokes, pet names, dark humour
a/n: i had a different fake text queued for today, but in light of choi san the man himself discovering fanfic, this felt fitting to post đ«ą started drafting this five months ago with @sorryimananti-romantic so did we accidentally manifest it đŹ
asking bf!ateez to draw you a flower
genre: ot8 x gn!reader, fluff, crack, fake texts
c/w: swearing, pet names, questionable drawing skills
a/n: happy valentines and stay delulu đđ«° tmi but jongho's flower took 1.5 hours to draw and mingi's took five seconds đ and if some of the flowers look hideous then blame @sorryimananti-romantic bc she probably told me to draw them :D
Like always, your stories are magnificent my queenđđ»ââïžđđ„°
I read Joong and Hwa's part last night and it makes me smile when I go to sleepđ€. I can say that their stories will have happy endings even though they have their own strugglesđž
But I just read Yunho and Yeo's partđ, I'm glad I didn't read it last night because I was sure I would cry my eyes outđ„č. If I read their part last night, I would wake up with swollen eyes
(Will we get pt. 2 for Yuyu and Yeo? My greedy ass would like to see Yuyu and Yeo get their happy ending as wellđ„čđ«Ł)
ateez as pirates who fall for you (hyung line)
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for hongjoong), fluff, angst, crack, and as always - a brainrot of every pirate trope to exist
length: 10.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, ransoming, verbal abuse, abduction), alcohol, pet names
a/n: maknae line will come yes but who knows when đ€·ââïž work has been really testing my dopamine vibes this year đđ thank you @sorryimananti-romantic for keeping a detailed hitlist for me âĄ
hongjoong
pov: you're a royal princess rescued by him
âcaptain, are you sure we canât toss her overboard?â
jongho and hongjoong watch as wooyoungâs face falls after you pointedly ignore his attempts to make conversation once again
for someone who is technically their guest aboard the arriba, it seems as though you are hellbent on being as difficult as you can be
âunfortunately, we canât,â hongjoong grouches to the younger, ânot unless we want to exchange our payment for a hefty bounty on our own headsâ
when jongho sighs, the captain squeezes his shoulder in comfort and adds on, âtrust me, iâve thought about it tooâ
hongjoong and his crew are privateers - pirates in theory, but technically excused so long as they have their letter of marque to state that they are authorised to attack other vessels
rescuing a royal princess was never explicitly part of the contract, although he thinks that not rescuing you would have pretty much been equivalent to a blatant show of insubordination
you had been taken ransom by one of the merchant ships the arriba had been plundering
needless to say, they had been close to tossing you overboard too; your kingdom had never paid for your ransom
the lack of response from your parents wasnât anything you werenât expecting but itâs a sore spot nonetheless
so itâs certainly hard for you to play friendly when youâre quite literally shucked off from stranger to stranger faster than a hot potato
san tugs wooyoung closer towards him and gently says to you, âheâs just trying to be nice - we all areâ
the movement doesnât go unnoticed by you
âi donât need your pity,â you answer, the only sentence you have spoken today
youâve lived two decades of your life pretending you donât see the pitying gazes of your maids and butlers
you certainly donât need pity from these people - pirates no less
âitâs not-â wooyoung starts to say
but the captain steps in before he can defend himself
âif this is how youâre always acting, iâm starting to see why your kingdom never paid for your ransomâ
had hongjoong been less preoccupied by your words, he would have realised that your tone is candid, as if it is only natural for the people around you to pity you
but heâs clouded with his mindset as captain, unable to stand by idly while his own crew put up with your attitude, and so the words come out anyway - shards of shrapnel that bury themselves into your heart
there is only a fleeting second when your eyes dilate with hurt
you conceal it immediately, replacing it with a steely gaze, yet the image has already seared itself into hongjoongâs mind
âmaybe you should throw me overboard, then,â you counter, âiâm sure my family will thank you for itâ
and even if you have completely neutralised your expression, no one misses the wounded tone of your voice before you disappear down into the lower deck
mingi lets out a low whistle after the resounding slam of the hatch closing
âyou fucked up, captainâ
hongjoong doesnât need anyone to spell it out for him
the heavy feeling in his stomach is telling enough
it isnât until the moon has long since risen that you emerge through the hatch again
you had bypassed the sleeping quarters to the hold, wedging yourself between barrels of grain until you were sure no one would find you
not that they would have tried to anyway - seonghwa had told them all to give you some space
you had run your finger up and down the sides of the barrels repetitively for hours on end, mind simultaneously void and filled with thoughts
the walls you had built around yourself kept you safe, but it had started to become awfully lonely after a while
when it had become a little too suffocating in the hold and you guessed that most of the crew were asleep, you had softly padded back up the stairs and across the main deck
you now sit on the foredeck where the endless expanse of the sea stretches out in front of you, closing your eyes and letting the swaying of the ship lull you into tranquillity
tonight, the moon winks down fondly upon the waters
hongjoong watches you from the quarterdeck
heâs seen you sit at the front of the ship on many nights when you should really have been asleep
he wonders if youâve always looked so small and fragile with your knees drawn up to your chest, or whether itâs because the flash of hurt in your eyes and voice is still fresh in his mind
âgo, captain,â yunho murmurs from where heâs at the helm, âitâs a quiet nightâ
hongjoong startles at having been caught gazing, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away
âwhy should i, if sheâs just going to ignore me?â he scoffs
but he knows heâs just being petty at this point and his chest churns in agreement
âmaybe,â yunho hums softly in response. âdid seonghwa ever give up on you, though?â
itâs rhetorical - hongjoong knows the answer better than anyone
the captain doesnât say anything but after several beats of silence, he sighs and makes a move to the foredeck where you are
yunho smiles to himself
you and hongjoong may be more similar than his captain realises
your shoulders stiffen when the sound of hongjoongâs footsteps approaches
youâre not sure what to expect and you donât exactly want to find out and risk getting hurt
but having spent all day swimming alone in your thoughts, you do want to show that you feel apologetic because admittedly, you were being an ass too
getting up to walk away when heâs taken the first step certainly wonât help your case
you hold your breath in awkward silence as he settles down beside you, leaving a respectable distance between your hunched figures
only now is hongjoong realising that he hasnât actually thought about or decided on what he wants to say to you
but he can feel the confusion rolling off of you in waves, so he grits his teeth and says fuck it
âi wonât apologise for defending my crew, but iâm sorry for how i did it and for what i saidâ
he hopes you know he is sincere when he continues, âwe all have our prickly edges. i canât fault you for yoursâ
compassion is a foreign concept to you and so youâre a little stumped for words
hongjoong isnât sure whether your silence is a good or bad thing, but you have yet to stand up and walk away from the conversation
âthereâs only about a week left until we reach port and weâll leave after you make it back to your kingdom and we receive our payment. iâm not asking for you to be friendly, but letâs at least be civil with each other until then,â he says
you want to nod, agree, anything
and yet you canât seem to make your head move or the words to come out of your mouth
rome was not built in a day. but neither did its walls fall in a day
hongjoong doesnât push for an answer when instead, you ask, âhow many people have you actually tossed overboard before?â
he resists the urge to laugh at your question, suddenly endeared by the fact that youâre still bothered by his very empty threat
ânone, but my offer still stands. youâre welcome to be my first,â he deadpans
you let out a snort and although you quickly turn your head away, hongjoong sees the hint of amusement in your eyes
no further words are exchanged between the two of you and you do not acknowledge him when he eventually stands to rejoin yunho at the helm
but itâs a start
and as with any relationship, be it friend, foe, or lover, there is always that
a beginning.
hongjoong isnât really expecting much to change immediately so he doesnât pay you much mind when you walk into the mess hall the following morning
you hesitate at the entrance when you see most of the crew are already present, the conversation you had with hongjoong last night replaying at the forefront of your mind
you chew on the inside of your mouth
wooyoung stops mid-conversation at the scrape of a plate on the table, looking up to find you sliding into the seat beside him with a tight-lipped smile
to your surprise, he greets you with enthusiasm and immediately drags you into the conversation
hongjoong watches as you slowly warm up and add one or two comments of your own in between bites of your hardtack
and when he catches your gaze after staring for too long, he gives you a smile to convey his appreciation; to acknowledge your efforts
you return it with a small smile of your own and unbeknownst to you, it stays on your face for the rest of the day
slowly, there become more and more reasons that elicit a smile out of you
you still sit out on the foredeck when everyone else has gone to sleep, but on most nights, hongjoong will join you even if just for a while
the two of you are content to sit side by side with nothing but the steady pulse of the ocean and intermittent creaks of the shipâs hull to break the silence of the night
tonight though, you find curiosity burning through you
âwhatâs it like?â you ask
âbeing a pirate?â he clarifies
you shrug vaguely, unsure yourself either, âbeing a pirate. being at sea. sailing with your crewâ
he takes a moment to gather his thoughts - not because he doesnât know what to say, but because there is too much he wants to say
when hongjoong answers, his voice rumbles softly from within his chest, tender and heartfelt
âthereâs a sense of freedom that you canât obtain when youâre bound to land and society. sailing the waters, the only limits are those of the open seas and of your own compass⊠the sunrises, the storms, the moonlight - it all becomes part of your homeâ
hongjoong leans back to rest on the palms of his hands, tilting his gaze up towards the twinkling sky
he reflects, âyou experience brotherhood and gain a family that is worth multitudes more than the treasures you can accumulate, even if you were to live as a pirate for several lifetimesâ
youâre enraptured by his words, like poetry that swirls off the pages of a book and drifts into your very soul
âi may be the captain of this crew, but they make me who i am. without them, i am nothingâ
his words wash over you and unearth vivid memories
âthatâs what the queen always says to me,â you reveal
a small smile starts to grace hongjoongâs face, but it falls just as quickly when he hears your next words
âthat without her - without her title - i am nothingâ
itâs funny, how the same phrase can hold such different meanings; can evoke such different emotions
you donât elaborate any further, but hongjoong doesnât think he needs you to in order for him to understand
he just wishes he had more time to show you that your mother is wrong
he canât though
tomorrow they reach port and you will return to your rightful place in the palace
âtell me more about your crew,â you attempt to change the topic, âhow did you all find each other?â
so hongjoong tells you
he talks for hours and hours and you listen all the while with a heavy heart, clinging onto his every word
on your final night, you two stay like that until the stars disappear and the horizon becomes streaked with the pale hues of sunrise
after the ship docks mere hours later, only hongjoong accompanies you to your kingdom after goodbyes are exchanged
wooyoung doesnât take it well, and you find yourself holding back tears of your own as you are let through the palace doors with the captain by your side
but you blink them away when you approach the throne room because vulnerability is not an emotion you are willing to display
ây/nâ
the queen addresses you curtly when you enter, and hongjoong wonders for a split second whether he has brought you back to the wrong kingdom
he knows your mother does not treat you fondly, but itâs still staggering to see it before his very own eyes
the monarch glances distastefully over him before her eyes flicker back to you
âi did not expect your return,â she states
your eyes remain impassive as you merely answer, âneither am i delighted to be backâ
hongjoong recognises this look
heâs seen it when you first boarded his ship; heâs seen it when your hackles were raised
heâs seen it in himself, when he had been a teenager filled with nothing but growing resentment, before he had met seonghwa
your mother sneers, âthen you should have made yourself useful and stayed with the pirates. as a whore or a dog, whatever it took.â
hongjoong has understood you since learning of your demons, but right now, he is you
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, standing before a couple who are his parents only by title
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, who doesnât know what he has done that deems him undeserving of love
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, all alone with no one to take his hand
âor really, you should have died on the shipâ
hongjoong is close enough to you to hear the small hitch in your breath at your motherâs final jab
he may not have had someone to save his younger self, but he can do that now
he can be the person he so desperately needed years ago
and so he does just that.
hongjoong grabs your hand and drags you out of the palace
no one stops the two of you from leaving and he is unsure whether his heart hurts for you or sings with relief
you can only stutter in shock as you try to keep up, âhongjoong, what about your payment?â
his determined steps do not slow down, even as he looks back at you with a sure smile, âi told you before. some things are worth more than moneyâ
the comforting squeeze of his hand conveys that you are worth more than any amount of money
the form of the arriba grows bigger in the distance and you think you can see the movement of excitement on deck when the crew spots your figures
hongjoong has slowed down his steps, but he has yet to let go of your hand
âand you deserve to know that. welcome to the crew, y/nâ
to a family and love that you never had
you think you like the sound of that
âthank you, captainâ
seonghwa
pov: you're a royal navy officer in disguise
you lay awake in your hammock, listening to the soft snores of the crew members around you
sleep doesnât come easy to you anymore
particularly tonight
you contemplate whether itâs worth the risk to simply not show up
you know what the consequences are if they capture you - a slow and painful death - but youâre unsure whether you want to put ateez on the line too
your ship is currently docked for the night, having made a port stop at alcarres following one of the crewâs wishes to retire the pirate lifestyle and settle in the small town
their last night with ateez had been celebrated with sloshing rum and rowdy jigs, something you had found strange
thereâs none of that in the royal navy
when one leaves, it is shameful and through one of three options only; old age, crippling injury, orâŠdeath
you had asked seonghwa, the quartermaster, why he and the captain were so accepting when crew members left as they wished
he had simply smiled and answered, âbetter a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crewâ
his words are like a sharp stone in your shoe as you finally slip out of your hammock and make your way off the ship
as ordered, you head to the tavern addressed
you salute the person in front of you and ease into your seat with a formality only when he disregards you
âadmiral jangâ
âyouâre late,â the royal navy officer raises an eyebrow
âsorry, sir. i had to make sure everyone was asleepâ
itâs not exactly the truth, but no one needs to know that you had spent an hour in your hammock questioning your morality
he ignores your excuse, jesting as he asks of your captain, âhas the pirate king found the chartâs whereabouts yet?â
the charts
centuries ago, a crew of experienced sailors had travelled the six great seas and created the original navigational charts
the charts had become scattered and lost over time, but its value only increased exponentially as more and more sailors became victims to the sea trying to map its waters to the same detail and accuracy as the original charts
of the six originals, only the whereabouts of five are known, with most of them within the possession of the royal navy
itâs rumoured that hongjoong - the pirate king - has his hands on two of them and is currently tracking down the lost chart of the aurorian sea
the only sea that has yet to be chartered after its original map due to its dangerous and unpredictable sailing conditions
you know that your next words can hold an inexplicable amount of possibilities
ânot yet. the last lead didnât get him anywhere. turned out the last of the ahn clan had passed a decade agoâ
his lips flatten at the lack of worthwhile information
âwhereâs the captain headed to next, then?â he probes
for a split second, the thought of lying crosses your mind
you canât provide a different location - it would be much too obvious and would raise immediate suspicions
but you could give him a different time frame
after all, itâs not uncommon for navigational routes to be one to two weeks off should the waters be unpredictable enough
you find the truth spilling out of you anyway once youâre looking into his stone-cold eyes
âvlasgar. in about three weeksâ timeâ
for a moment, time stands still as your heart pounds and you attempt to slow your breathing, the officer staring back at you calculatingly
then he finally hums in satisfaction
you think that he is going to dismiss you, but as you make a move to leave, he leans back in his seat
the split second of hesitation was enough
âremember where your loyalty lies, y/nâ
the air feels cold with the underlying threat
seonghwaâs words flit through your mind
better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew
you swallow, âof course, admiralâ
and then youâre dismissed with a nod
the unsettling feeling follows you all the way back to the ship and every miniscule creak of the floorboards underneath you seems to be amplified in the silence
you let out a short gasp of surprise when youâre about to climb back into your hammock, only to see seonghwa blinking blearily at you
âcouldnât sleep âgain?â he mumbles
you choke out a response, âyeahâ
âiâll make you tea bâfore you sleep âmorrow,â his words slur with sleepiness
âokay,â you whisper
but you know it wonât make a difference
after all, thereâs no remedy for guilt
it continues to fester the next day, as you linger outside the captainâs quarters
you canât remember why you had come down to the lower deck, but it doesnât matter now, not with seonghwa and the captain discussing what you think is related to the aurorian chart
âdo you think heâs still in vlasgar?â
âmin taesoo? itâs hard to say. but iâm sure heâll have acquaintances still on the island who may have an idea of where heâs goneâ
min taesoo
your brain tries to carefully file the name away, knowing that itâs what admiral jang would want to know, but at the same time, your heart tries to pretend it doesnât know what you have heard so that you can forget about it
you find yourself scratching the name onto a scrap of paper anyway
unbeknownst to you, at the almost-imperceivable sound of your footsteps walking away, the two men behind the doors share a look
the crew sets sail again in the afternoon towards the next destination - vlasgar - and the scrap of paper in your pocket weighs you down so heavily that you feel off-kilter as you absentmindedly follow jongho up into the rigging to unfurl the sails
youâre near the top of the ropes when a sudden wave lurches the boat to starboard
itâs only a small push, really, but with your mind elsewhere, it catches you off guard and you miss your next step
the feeling of your hand dislodging from the sudden drag of your body weight brings you back to the present with a yell of surprise
(whether itâs your own or jonghoâs, you canât remember)
your sailing experience takes over and you try to swing your body back towards the safety of the rigging
you barely manage to grasp the ropes again but your hands slip down with your weight until they hit the next knot, the hot rush of friction threatening your grip
with adrenaline rushing through your body, you shakily climb back down, where there are several pairs of hands waiting to help you down the rest of the rigging
seonghwaâs hands do not leave you even after your feet are planted on the deck again
dread and shame heat the back of your neck and curl around onto your cheeks, knowing that a mistake like the one you had just made - accidental or not - would lead to a punishment like confinement in the lower deck back in the royal navy
except, when an apology starts to form on your lips, seonghwa bursts out in dismay
ây/n, your hands!â
you let out an unintelligible noise as seonghwa gently turns your palms over and you realise that the ropes have grazed some of the skin off
âitâs fine,â you want to say
but youâre silenced when he leads you to the small sick bay on the orlop deck
even if there is no surgeon on board, there is a small chest fastened to the wall that is home to their few and valuable medical supplies
you sit as he fusses over you with alcohol and strips of cloth
although he does a good job of wrapping your hands, your insides start to bleed with how intensely guilt eats away at you, like a maggot deep inside the core of a festering apple
that night as you shuffle towards your hammock to sleep, you flinch when you find seonghwa already sitting in his
heâs fighting the heaviness in his eyes as he carefully cradles something
upon seeing you, he wordlessly hands it to you with a sleepy smile before he finally sags into his own hammock with a content sigh
you look down and the warmth of it seems to burn through the padded dressing that the man before you has tenderly wrapped around your palms
the sensation travels upwards to burn your heart too
because in your hands is a cup of warm chamomile tea
and yet, despite the emptied cup, you find yourself unable to fall asleep
but in the darkness of the sky, with no witnesses other than the waves and sea foam themselves, a small piece of crumpled paper gets tossed overboard that night
the closer their ship approaches vlasgar, the more distant seonghwa notices you become
he worries
seonghwa thinks he worries for the reasons that he should be
he is the quartermaster; entrusted to protect the crew as the captainâs right-hand man
if that means ensuring no one will compromise the rest of his crew, even if itâs you, then so be it
thatâs what he justifies to himself as he walks through the cobbled streets of vlasgar, slinking through the shadows as he follows your figure from a safe distance
(in reality, seonghwa worries for the reasons that he is not quite ready to admit yet)
he follows you into the dim bar of a tavern and carefully situates himself where he can watch over you without being discovered
he orders a mug of common ale as you approach someone
the man is dressed in civilian attire, but seonghwa can tell straight away from his demeanour and expression that he is not as ordinary as he appears
itâs confirmed when he hears you say, âadmiral jangâ
and then he sees it
the small but striking lapel pin on the breast of the manâs coat - the royal navyâs insignia
seonghwa feels for the sash thatâs hidden underneath his own jacket and his fingertips meet the cool metal of the pistol tied inside
âyou better have updates for me, y/n. whatâs the pirate kingâs purpose here in vlasgar?â
seonghwa knows he only has about five seconds to make a decision - one that could jeopardise the crew, or one that could jeopardise you
but you surprise yourself and the both of them when you answer steadfastly, âi donât know, sirâ
despite the din of drunker patrons in the tavern, it seems to fall deathly silent
âam i hearing wrong, officer?â the admiral questions with a disbelieving scoff
to your credit, your voice does not waver when you state again, âno, sir. i believe the captain and quartermaster are lying low. they have not revealed anything to me nor the rest of the crewâ
seonghwa suddenly understands why you have distanced yourself
the admiralâs jaw tics
âis that so.â
you do not respond, only focusing on the spot between his raised eyebrows as he leans forward across the table
âwhere does your loyalty lie, y/n?â
neither the admiral nor seonghwa need to hear your answer to know the truth
a small crew may be outnumbered, but they have strength in loyalty and devotion
thereâs a glint of movement from underneath the table as the admiral inches something out from his belt
seonghwa makes his decision
you flinch, eyes wide as thereâs a deafening gunshot and the table beside you splinters and scatters the tankards of alcohol onto the floor
instantaneously, chaos erupts
there are drunken yells of fright and weapons clumsily brandished, tables upturned and chairs hurled across the room
it only takes one other misfired shot for the tavern to descend into hellfire as customers who were previously drinking together now turn on one another
nobody notices the two pirates dashing out, not even admiral jang, who is busy wrangling two inebriated men off his arms
your composure dissolves the moment you are dragged into an alleyway several streets away and you look up in shock to discover-
âseonghwa?! why are you here?â
âi could say the same about you,â he counters, hardly out of breath
youâre stunned by the fact that he seems completely unfazed by the mess that he has just dragged you out of
something clicks
âwas that you? did you know all along?â
seonghwa smiles, âletâs just say youâre not as subtle as you think you are when you sneak around. plus, itâs uncommon for sailors to have the experience that you do without having had some sort of trainingâ
you curse under your breath and wince, âdoes hongjoong know too?â
the quartermaster nods and you fear the answer to your next question
âthen why has he notâŠwhy have you notâŠâ
âkilled you yet?â seonghwa chuckles. âiâm sure youâve realised by now how skewed the royal navyâs beliefs areâ
youâre quiet
the royal navy has always been cult-like in preaching the ruthlessness and barbarism of pirates, drilling into the officers the belief that pirates are the scum of the sea
but everything that youâve known has been proven false since youâve joined ateez; ironically, the pirates are more humane than the royal navy themself
their crew stand at attention whenever hongjoong or seonghwa walk onto the deck - not out of cultivated fear but genuine respect
when jongho is sore and tired from handling the riggings on a particularly rough and windy day, the others will offer to cover for his chores instead of flogging him into submission
and when mingi is divvying up the shares of the provisions and loot, the others will slip an extra bar of soap for seonghwa, the shiniest ring for mingi, or the largest bottle of rum for yunho, because they want to make each other happy
âhongjoong is the pirate king, yes, but a king should not take the lives of others for his own power. a true king uses his power to change the lives of others for the betterâŠlike yoursâŠand like mineâ
you frown with a jerk of your head
âwhat do you mean?â
you canât see seonghwa as a broken man whatsoever
he gives you a weak smile, âi, too, used to be part of the royal navyâ
your jaw drops
everything clicks into place - how he had figured out you werenât just a common sailor and why he hadnât confronted you about it
the shame and guilt come rushing back over you in a storm that is much too familiar by now
âiâm so sorry, all iâve done is betray your trust-â
âbut thatâs what second chances are for, no?â seonghwa cuts you off, playfully flicking your forehead as he reminds you, âand iâm pretty sure youâve chosen me over the royal navyâ
your cheeks grow hot
ânot you. the crew,â you mutter
he laughs and itâs a wonderful sound
âcome on, itâs late,â seonghwa beckons. âletâs get some sleepâ
when he sees that youâre still rooted to the spot, unsure whether you are deserving to go back, he decides for you and moves behind you to gently nudge you forward by the shoulders
you let him guide you
his hands are warm, you note, even through the linen of your shirt
his hands are also pretty, you observe, when he tries to fluff your hammock once you two have crept your way back to the berth
seonghwa helps you up into the hammock and you watch as he climbs into his
his hands are also teeming with love, you realise, when he wordlessly extends his arm nearest to you in a silent invitation
if you both reach out, you can just entwine your hands together from your respective hammocks
the burns on your palms have healed nicely and without the need for them to be wrapped, you can feel every expanse of his hand covering yours
he doesnât retract his hand and neither do you, even though itâs not the most comfortable position and you both lose feeling of your arms soon after
but you lay in your hammock, drifting to the soft snores of the crew members around you and the soft tug of seonghwaâs fingers in yours
sleep comes easy to you
particularly tonight
as it will for the rest of your life
yunho
pov: you're the crew's navigator
you know itâs going to happen even before it actually does
you can feel it in the air and from the way the baby hairs around your hairline start to frizz
but you never say anything because you wouldnât trade it for the moment when the first raindrop hits the back of yunhoâs neck and he abandons his duty at the helm to drag you out onto the upper deck
(hongjoong only sighs in defeat before he stations himself at the helm instead)
you donât like the rain
not like yunho does
you are already looking up from the map spread out in the captainâs quarters, a knowing smile on your face just from the sound of his bounding footsteps alerting you of his presence, when yunho appears with the beckon of rain
you pretend to let yourself be dragged to your feet along to his urges of come on!
but then you dash forward towards the hatch with yunho chasing after your bright laughter
in the short span of time that it has taken him to fetch you, the sprinkle of rain has steadily grown and the weathered planks of the deck are already a dark grey
you feel the coldness of the raindrops hitting the crown of your head and the spreading chill as your clothes start to become damp
but thatâs not what makes you feel alive
yunho catches up to you easily and then he is snaking his arms around your waist to lift you up into the air
you barely have time to squeal and steady yourself on his broad shoulders before he is spinning the two of you around, the world blurring away as the spotlight shines on him and he is all that you can see
the deck is your stage and the sea is your audience
rain with yunho is twirling hugs, tiptoed kisses and tinkling laughter. itâs soaked shirts and rosy cheeks and the only thing that matters in the moment
you donât like the rain, but itâs easy to like the rain when itâs with him
(hongjoong lets the two of you be - so obviously and hopelessly enamoured by each other - because when one sees people in love, one cannot help but watch and smile)
the rain eventually peters out and you and yunho must return to your respective duties, but not until you two have changed out of your drenched clothes and sneaked in a few more kisses
a few hours later, you hear the racket above the deck as a ship pulls up beside the arriba and ropes are thrown across from both sides to lash the vessels close together
hongjoong comes down to join you in his quarters, but heâs not alone
behind him is the captain of the silver light, dae jihoo, and his quartermaster, with seonghwa entering last
you note that this crew doesnât have a navigator of their own
but you suppose thatâs one of the reasons why their captain had implored an alliance for this particular raid
the crew of the silver light are wanting to target the prosperity triangle - an area between three large ports that is frequently trafficked by wealthy vessels transporting valuable goods
itâs a raid that would prove difficult for a smaller pirate crew like your own and the silver light, and especially if they have no navigator
but itâs not uncommon for pirates to form temporary alliances for such purposes, and together, your crews have a good chance of plundering a fortune
you nod your head in acknowledgement when hongjoong introduces you to the two pirates as ateezâs navigator
you donât miss the way jihooâs eyes seem to linger on you for a second too long before he flashes a crooked grin and gestures towards the navigational map spread out on the oak table
clearing your throat of discomfort, you step forward and flatten the creases out with your hands
âthis is the most open spot within the triangle that the vessel weâre after will pass through,â you tap an annotated spot on the chart, âand this is where we are nowâ
you slide your finger across, âweâll follow the rhumb line west to avoid the shallower waters and when we can catch the trade winds, it should be smooth sailing from thereâ
jihoo challenges you, âhow can you be sure weâll catch the ship within the triangle?â
âtheyâll need to sail past the equator and iâm almost certain their ship will be slowed down by the doldrums. we can easily gain knots on themâ
he squints at the scribbles youâve made noting down what youâve gathered of the wind patterns
you know for a fact that it will mean nothing to him, but whatever he sees must satisfy him because jihoo appears to make up his mind
âwhen do we set sail?â he directs his question to your captain
âthree days from nowâ
he grunts a noise of affirmation and stands, which hongjoong takes as the cue to see them and the rest of their crew off your ship
you trail behind the group as you all head back to the upper deck
you prepare to emerge from the hatch with a playful wink, knowing that yunho will be craning his neck from the helm to get a glimpse of you, when a sudden holler surprises you out of your thoughts
itâs immediately met with the answering cries of several other pirates - none from your crew - and you hurry to clear the hatch to gain your bearings
youâre thrust right into the throes of battle as ateez are forced to unsheathe their cutlasses to defend against silver lightâs sudden attack
having been caught off guard, basically none of your firearms are loaded with gunpowder, rendering them unusable
you will have to make do with the short sabre at your waist
thereâs no time to account for the whereabouts and safety of your crew members and you just have to pray that you all make it out of this unscathed
especially yunho
but as ateez retaliate, you all notice something is off about the situation
your crew is very quickly overpowering the other pirates - it was a losing fight for them from the very beginning
it makes no sense to you nor the rest of your crew
the losses of breaking the alliance before the planned raid, much less through betrayal, far outweigh any gains they could possibly make from their choice of action
it makes absolutely no sense
until it does.
you are blocking the swing of a sabre with your own when you are tugged backwards harshly by the collar of your shirt
thereâs an angry snarl in your throat as you prepare to turn around, but itâs quickly silenced by the warning shot of a pistol right beside your ear
the cold ring of metal is then pressed to the back of your head
you know that firearms require time to reload and thereâs a chance that this pistol is now useless
but, like wooyoung has taught the rest of the crew to do, they may have pre-prepared several pistols and you are not willing to play with fire - especially when you are only the flex of a finger away from death
you vaguely hear someone yell out your name in panic, but youâre not quite sure you hear correctly over the clamour of cutlasses clashing, warcries resounding and your own heartbeat pounding
âstand down or your navigator dies,â the voice behind you thunders
itâs jihooâŠand he wants a navigator for his crew
âateez,â one of your men commands, âlower your weaponsâ
your crew may make decisions fairly, but in battle, only hongjoong has the power to make commands
yunho has never spoken against his captain or disobeyed orders
until now
the words do not come out of your captainâs mouth but yunhoâs
the rest of the members hesitate - they will not stand down unless hongjoong commands them to, yet, they are unsure whether they will be able to follow should he demand them to fight on, even if it means endangering your life
but there is no guarantee jihoo will let your crew go unharmed even after you all surrender, and as the captain, hongjoong must make decisions in the best interest for the crew
âcaptain!â yunho yells desperately
yunho never yells
âstand down,â hongjoong commands
silver lightâs captain steps in closer behind you until you can hear and feel the noise of intriguement that leaves his mouth down the back of your neck
âthat your loverboy, hmm?â
he smirks
thereâs a false moment of primal relief when the press of the pistol is removed from the back of your head, but it is immediately replaced with fear that is irrevocably worse as he aims it in yunhoâs direction and shoots
âno!â
you shriek and pull against the tug of his hold, still fisted around your collar, your pupils blown wide with terror at the sight of the clean hole in the mast right beside yunhoâs head
âitâll be pretty boyâs head next if you donât come with me,â jihoo coos into your ear
the fight slips out of you immediately
because if you can save him, a life for a life, then you will
even if the sight of mingi holding yunho back from lunging forward when the pistolâs barrel returns to your head makes your heart clench painfully
ây/n, donât you dare,â yunho pleads, voice filled with anguish
youâre barely given enough time to lock eyes with him and say resolutely, âremember what you said to me,â before you are tugged away to the boarding plank
ateez can only watch helplessly as the planks are removed from over the bulwarks and the last of the ropes are untied, releasing the silver light from their ship for good
jihoo tugs you down the hatch as the ship starts to pull away, and just like that, youâre gone from their sights
âfuck!â yunho shouts furiously, unable to contain his emotions as he turns around and connects his fist with the mast
right where the musket ball had made a hole
his hand pulls away with bloodied knuckles from the splintered wood and the sheer force of his punch
a concerned whine leaves seonghwaâs mouth and he tries to approach the taller, but yunho shakes him off and looks determinedly at hongjoong
âweâre sailing to the banver isle just east of the triangle. weâll ambush them thereâ
seonghwa looks between the two, hope flickering in his chest at the potential plan, âyou think the silver light are stupid enough to try taking on the prosperity triangle alone?â
yunho chuckles darkly, âthey were fucking shitbrained enough to take y/n, so yesâ
nobody disagrees and hongjoong smirks dangerously
âateez, ready the sails for banver isle,â he commands. âprepare for battleâ
because not only have the silver light taken you away from ateez, but they have also annihilated the light from yunhoâs eyes
gone are his warm brown orbs - they are now black holes thirsty for retribution
there will be lives to pay and even that will not be enough for the void
unaware of what your crew is capable of, jihoo looks down at you with a triumphant leer
âyouâll navigate us to the triangle in three daysâ time. donât even think about lying - youâve already shown me where the location isâ
with an even nod you reply, âof courseâ
itâs true though - you have absolutely no intention of navigating them somewhere else
because you know yunho will be waiting there for you
amidst chaste kisses exchanged between plush lips cold from the rain, yunho tells you in a brief moment of seriousness
âdonât show them where the real location is,â his breath is warm across your cheeks. âyou know the coastal island roughly ten nautical miles away? show them that insteadâ
you tilt your head to look up at him, âyou think theyâll betray us?â
âno,â he reassures you with a deeper, slower kiss, âbut we can never be too safeâ
and even if your vessels miss each other this time, you have complete faith that yunho will sail to the very ends of the world just to find you
two days before the originally-planned raid, the arriba sails as closely to banver isle as possible without risking running aground
yunho has navigated the ship around the back of the isle so that the form of the rocky terrain conceals them from sight
once the anchor is lowered, the crew members use every ticking moment to make preparations
swords are sharpened and firearms cleaned
mingi distributes the gunpowder and ammunition, which is pre-loaded into muskets, pistols and swivel cannons ready to be engaged
the shipâs sails and riggings are checked and yeosang keeps a keen lookout in the crowâs nest
and itâs as if the world itself can sense the brewing storm that grows inside yunho
the sea is eerily still and silent, but the sky is an omen to something impending, its rolling clouds dark and angry with the threat of rain leering over the waters
yunho doesnât actually like the rain
he only likes it because itâs with you
rain with you is barefoot dancing, breathless confessions and bashful giggles. itâs drenched locks and fluttering eyelashes and the only thing that exists in the moment
but as the profile of the silver light finally approaches the isle two days later, the heavens split open and you are not by his side
rain without you is falling pinpricks, frigid winds and flaunting mockery and yunho despises it with his entire being
at yeosangâs call of, âvessel approaching from starboard,â up in the lookout, yunho smothers the fervid desire to barrage the other ship with cannonballs like hail from hell; to unleash an inferno that blazes through their hull as he sadistically watches the crew jump for their lives
he stamps out the hunger to shoot the ones that make it into the sea, not to kill, only to maim and induce a long, painful struggle in the open waters until death becomes inevitable - until there is enough blood spilt that it becomes the only stench in the air that stretches across for miles
yunho leashes his monsters with an iron fist
because he will not do anything that could even remotely endanger your life
even if it means that he has to hold back - to sit and wait like prey instead of advancing on the other ship like a predator
at least not yet.
silver light do not know, but this is the calm before the storm
the heavens may be crying, the winds may be howling and the waters may be roiling
but this is nothing compared to yunho
yunho is a tempest of unparalleled rage and their ship is in the eye of his storm
as the bowsprit of the silver light starts to appear around the isle, the members ready their grappling hooks and yunho draws his cutlass with a menacing whisper of unsheathing metal
you are his treasure, and pirates never lose sight of their treasure
todayâŠyou return to him
yeosang
pov: you're a tavern keeper
watching the ale reach the brim of the tankard you are holding, youâre about to step away from the barrel when the voice of a patron sounds behind you
ââscuse me, could i get a mint-â
you look up and turn around in confusion as their voice cuts off
only to have the question taken right from the tip of your own tongue as youâre met with the face of the person you had loved for years
the same person you have spent twice as long trying to forget
eyes searching each otherâs in a surprised stupor, seeing kang yeosang standing right in front of you takes you back to those memories that you have tried to remember and simultaneously bury
it thrusts you headfirst into what used to be of your shared love - like the feathery remnants of a dream, so distant from the fingers of your consciousness, suddenly returning to vivid existence when you least expect it
âhey, mint leaf. iâm backâ
yeosang at least has the perceptiveness to appear a little apologetic, immediately pulling you into a hug and pressing soft kisses against your hairline uncaring of the other people in the tavern
itâs been several weeks since you last saw him, and whilst he had warned you he would be gone for longer this time, you hadnât expected it to mean two whole months
heâs a small merchant who also fishes along the coast to earn enough to make meets ends, so heâs often gone for a few days or a week or two
you knew what you were in for when you first made it official with him, but just because you become accustomed to something, doesnât mean it gets any easier
and heâs never been gone for this long
something must have happened - something good - because he looks alive, cheeks glowing and eyes fiery
âi met the crewâ
âthe crew?â you ask, hands reaching for the bourbon to prepare him a drink as he lets himself behind the counter to stand beside you in your workspace
he nods excitedly, "wooyoungâs pirate crew, ateez"
you think you know where this is going to go and you hate that your stomach sinks at the thought of what your future may become, because yeosang looks so happy to tell you about this and a happy yeosang is all that you could ask for
âthe captain offered me a position as their lookoutâ
you pick out your next words carefully as you hand him his finished drink - a mint julep with two sugar cubes, just the way he likes it
"aren'tâŠisn't being a pirate dangerous?"
ânot as dangerous as you might think, actually. theyâve been showing me the ropes the last couple of weeks andâŠand i think i want to join them. officiallyâ
there it is
the forked end of the road
you wonder how far two people can keep walking with their hands intertwined before the distance becomes too great and they have to let go
his words become a little muddled when he goes on to tell you about how they divvied up their recent loot to include his share too
how heâs gained more money than heâs made from the last two years of working as a merchant and fisherman combined
if he joins his old friend and his crew, he could earn enough to buy his parents a proper house; earn enough to build you your very own tavern
you want to tell him that you donât need the tavern, just him, but you also know just how important his family is to him
his filial desire to take care of his parents was one of the very reasons you fell in love with him in the first place
before you can say anything though, the tavern keeper is interrupting to let you know that your shift is over
yeosang immediately perks up and herds you out of the place, claiming that there is a new fishing spot he discovered that he has to show you
and so you sit while he rows his modest boat, only the splash of his oars disturbing the peaceful stillness that has settled over the waters as the sun dips below the horizon
the waning light casts a soft, warm glow over him, like a gentle kiss against his skin and birthmark
if angels graced the earth, there would be one sitting right in front of you
âi missed you, mint leaf,â he confesses, gaze shyly averted. âi thought about you when i was goneâ
âdid you think about showing me this place?â you feel a little breathless
he nods, âevery single nightâ
and thatâs enough for you
it feels like everything is okay again
it doesnât matter if youâre standing at a forked road
you think that perhaps, for him, you can walk on an unpaved path - just so that you can keep holding his hand
ây/nâ
yeosangâs voice is deep
the word sounds foreign to your own ears but you donât dwell on it
(because if you do, youâll wonder whether itâs because youâve forgotten the sound of his voice or because you want to hear him calling you something else)
âwhat would you like to order?â you ask
(because itâs easier to pretend that heâs just another patron than to admit that he used to be all that you ever knew)
yeosang fumbles a little but then regains himself, âoh, um- just a mint julep, pleaseâ
you turn your back to him to prepare his drink, hands reaching for the barrels lined along the bottom shelves without needing to look
youâve made this drink too many times to count
half of those times were in the safety of the darkness that midnight offered; when the tears could flow freely without anyone seeing
itâs only when you start to mix his cocktail that yeosang realises he didnât ask for his sugar cubes, but he figures the drink will taste bitter tonight either way so he opts to watch you instead
he wishes that he could walk past the counter like he used to and wrap his arms around you
he wishes that he could whisper endearments into your ears and press them against your lips
he wishes that he could show you that he still loves you
âdo you still love me?â you voice wavers with hurt as you stand in front of him
heâs finally back after being gone for four months this time and you hate this conversation as much as he does, but it was bound to happen eventually
yeosang pleads, âmore than anythingâ
âthen why does it hurt so much? loving youâŠand being loved by youâ
he doesnât have an answer
but god be damned if he doesnât try to find a way to fix things
âtell me, mint leaf, what can i do?â
you blink back your tears furiously, having already made up your mind while he was still at sea
âletâs break upâ
because in the end, unpaved paths have too many rocks, too many thorns and too many arched roots; they were never meant to be walked along
you pass yeosang his finished drink without another word and then move further down the counter to serve a different customer
his eyes linger on you wistfully before he tears them away from you
itâs a good thing his hair has grown long enough to cover his face when he looks down
because his eyes start to grow wet at the sight of the mint julep you have made him
with two sugar cubes in it, just the way he likes it
perhaps, once youâve loved somebody, you never really stop loving them
yeosang shows up again the next day and seats himself at the bar
you donât serve him though, actively avoiding his end of the counter and letting another of your staff tend to him
he orders his usual but he leaves out his request for additional sugar cubes
it feels wrong for him to order it from someone that isnât you
but youâre watching out of the corner of your eye as the worker mixes the bourbon, sugar and water, topping it with a few mint leaves and then sliding it across the counter for him
you let out a little sigh, half amused, when he takes a small sip and smacks his lips together at the bitterness
you take two sugar cubes and drop it unceremoniously into his pewter cup before you realise what youâre doing
yeosang immediately seizes the opportunity to talk to you
âmy crewâs docked for the fortnightâŠâ he waits to see if youâll respond. you donât, but you also donât move away, so he continues. âweâre making some repairs to the hull and sails before our next raidâ
you have half a mind to walk away after you reply, âi didnât askâÂ
he forges on regardless
âweâre going to work with another crew for this one. itâs going to increase our chances of a successful raid because-â
your voice comes out a little harsher than you mean for it to when you hiss again, âi didnât askâ
yeosangâs mouth closes as he pulls away slightly, back straightening
then he says in a softer voice, âiâve been doing well. wooyoung still takes care of me, even though iâm not new to the crew anymore. i also saw my parents today and theyâre happily retired nowâŠâ
you donât stop him from talking this time
because how many sleepless nights have you spent sitting outside your tavern looking up at the stars; how many times have you served a mint julep to a patron and accidentally added sugar cubes; how many moments have you been consumed by the thought of him, simply wondering if he is living well?
this is everything that you have ever wanted - yeosang in the flesh letting you know that, yes, he has been well
but it is also everything that you have ever feared - that he has been well even without you
you donât know what to feel
âmy parents asked about you,â he says gingerly. âhow have you been?â
his voice is barely audible, as if he is afraid of what you might say
or perhaps, afraid that you might not say anything at all
âgood. excellent,â you force a small smile, your eyes still focused on the sole mint leaf floating in his drink. you donât think you can look at him. âi own this place nowâ
his body loses its tension, cheeks rounding as he looks at you with genuine relief
âthatâsâŠthatâs really good to hearâ
his words sting
you are unsure if it stings your ego or if it picks at the wound in the shape of the person you have lost
but it hurts to know that he has worried over you in the exact same way you have over him, the whole time you two have been apart
youâre suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation and hot tears well in your eyes almost immediately
your bottom lip starts to crumple so you rush into the back room to escape
ây/n!â yeosang calls out after you, alarmed
when you donât stop, disappearing into the storage, he jolts up from his seat and follows
your body shudders with every heaving breath you take, unable to stop yourself from crying even harder when you feel him tug you into his chest
you try to pull away but his sturdy arms tighten around you
yeosang refuses to let you go once more
âi hate you,â you sob, struggling against his hold as you hit his chest weakly
he hushes comforts against the crown of your head, soothing noises as he endures your fists
âyou have every reason toâ
yeosang holds back tears of his own
he feels your body gradually losing its fight, sinking into his embrace instead, hands desperately holding him close
your voice is so impossibly small when you tearfully confess, âbut i still love youâ
âoh, mint leaf,â he brushes the stray locks of hair away from your face and cradles your jaw tenderly, âi still love you, tooâ
he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, pulling away once only to reaffirm, âso, so muchâ
when he kisses you again, his lips taste salty against your own, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter than this
your breath no longer stutters but the tears continue to run down your face because your heart finally feels right after all these years apart
and yet-
you pull away
âwe canât do thisâ
yeosang feels his heart shattering
âwhy not? i donât understand,â he whimpers
âyou know why,â you say distressingly, âmy life is here, yeosang. i canât just leave and return whenever i want. but you, on the other hand? you can. you go where your crew goes - you belong with themâ
âbut my heart belongs to you. please, y/n,â he begs
his arms are still wrapped around you and you feel his desperation as his fingers cling onto you like a lifeline
you look earnestly into his bloodshot eyes, your own vision blurry, âyeo, youâre not the one who gets left behind here. youâre not the one who waits weeks, months, years on end, just hoping that the next person to walk in is the person that you want to seeâ
he wants to plead that he waits to see you, too, but he knows that heâs the one who leaves, too
âyouâre the right one for me - the only one for me - but itâs not the right time,â you tell him gently
slowly, his arms lower themselves from around you
âit wasnât the right time then and it isnât the right time now,â he repeats, âthen when is the right time for us?â
you shoot the question right back at him, âwhen is the right time for someone whose life is to sail the world?â
neither of you know the answer
nobody does, because loving a pirate has no certainties
but yeosang doesnât give up
âif we canât ever be sure, why donât we just make it the right time ourselves?â
you caress his cheek sweetly, and despite having stepped away from you earlier, he leans into your hand, starved of your loving touch and affection
âyeosangâŠwhat if weâve already had it? what ifâŠmeeting each other was already it? what if weâre just meant to love from a distance, not side by side?â your voice is poignant but resolute
he brings up a hand to cover yours, still warm and tender against his wet cheek
how is it that he can be touching you yet simultaneously feel worlds apart from you
âokay,â he accepts with a whisper
if loving you silently is the only way he gets to love you, then he will choose it in a heartbeat over losing you entirely
he thumbs away the remainder of your tears
âcan i kiss you? one last time?â he asks
you nod
âone last timeâ
your lips slowly meet, slotting together as they find their home in each otherâs dips and curves
his hands cradle the small of your back and neck and your own hands rest against his chest
the kiss you share is steady, longing and bittersweet
it conveys everything that you want to say to each other, and even then, it is hardly enough
thank you
iâm sorry
i love you
goodbyeâŠ
you can feel your eyes burning up again, but you focus on the feeling of yeosangâs lips against yours instead
because you know that the moment one of you pulls away, that is it forever
in the world of love, there are people who are ill-fated
they meet the right person, but at the wrong time
and then there are people like you and yeosang
not ill-fated, but star-crossed lovers
the right personâŠ
but just not meant to be
Finally, I can read this gemđ. Can't believe that headache is keeping me from reading this partđ€
Aside from that, I love the dynamics on this part, I can say that they all will be happyđ„°, except SanieđŹ
ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingiâs au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: iâm very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr đđđ also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line đ„ big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc itâs been a ship time ha ha đŹđ
taglist: at the end
san
pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup sanâs jaw
âs-san, donât do itâ
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, âthe cromer isnât meant for changing fate.â it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. âit never goes th- the way you want it toâŠyou know that by nowâ
sanâs voice is broken and pained, âi donât fucking care. itâs not going to stop me from tryingâ
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
itâs becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can restâŠjust for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but itâs far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you donât notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
youâre too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
âitâs much safer if we go over the mountain. weâll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizonâ
your captain, taesung, doesnât look at you when he answers over his shoulder, âitâs much quicker through the tunnels. we donât have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the islandâ
âand what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as theyâve got the caveâs exit guardedâ
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that heâll support your argument
only to find that heâs not there
heâs several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, âsan?â
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he canât make sense of nor connect what heâs seeing
but there is blood
thereâs so much blood
itâs everywhere
youâre there
itâs your blood
thereâs someone screaming; raw with despair
heâs screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and itâs so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god youâre dying
youâre going to die
âsan?â you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
heâs in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch youâre holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
itâs just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, âletâs listen to captainâ
your eyebrows pinch together at sanâs sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that youâre the only one who can hear his soft donât argue with him
thereâs something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isnât holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crewâŠand the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the caveâs floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by sanâs thigh, whoâs seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
heâs gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him whatâs wrong but thereâs only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
sanâs smile fades a little and you wonder whether itâs the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
heâs mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to sanâs cheeks, and then heâs whispering to you softly, âsleepâ
you donât recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before youâre woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
youâre met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend whatâs happening
thereâs a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within sanâs while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the caveâs entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, âthis way, loveâ
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you canât afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
âsan,â you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, âwe should take a breakâ
heâs sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that heâs one for constant physical affection, but thisâŠthis feels different
itâs like heâs afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
âsan, what exactly is going on?â
heâs quiet
he doesnât know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, âi saw you die in my armsâ
youâre stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
âwas itâŠâ you dare to ask, âwas it going to happen in the cave?â
he nods, âi just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-â
âhey, hey, san. itâs okay, weâre not in the cave anymore,â you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
âyeah,â he sighs against you, âyouâre rightâ
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
âwhy did you bring the cromer?â
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if thatâs what it will take
taesung isnât stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, âi need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong andâŠi still donât end up saving youâ
âa safety net?â an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, âsan? what are you not telling me?â
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
âiâŠiâve used it before,â san finally admits, âi used the cromer to bring you back to lifeâ
without thinking, you blurt, âitâs only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!â
âwell, i did it.â he snaps, âyouâre here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save youâ
at his words, you soften
because san didnât just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you canât even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
âiâm sorry,â you apologise. âthank you for saving me, and for loving meâ
sanâs eyes are red when he looks at you, âiâm sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to processâ
you shake your head with your own watery smile
âiâm alive, and i promise iâll stay aliveâ
âand i promise iâll keep you alive,â he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, âwhatâs the plan now?â
âfind a ship thatâs willing to get us the hell out of hereâ
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
âshit, let me have a look,â san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
itâs nothing too serious, but itâs deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
âsan,â you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
âiâm not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that weâve done so far to get to here,â he quips
thereâs only time to let out an exasperated sigh before heâs taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, youâre still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
sanâs sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your handâŠ
thereâs no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
âit worked,â you breathe out once youâre on your feet
âit worked!â san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
âremember,â san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, âif anyone asks, iâm your husband and weâre travelling merchantsâ
youâre too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the shipâs destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that heâs going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, âdaeho. welcome aboardâ
thatâs how you and san find yourselves in the shipâs hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that youâre holding your breaths and itâs not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of âanchors aweighâ is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all thatâs left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, âsounds like someone needs a bit of food,â just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
âoh fuck, what?â you hiss as you look into the crate again, âwhy the hell are there so many knives?â
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and thereâs something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
âsan,â you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, âitâs the same cutâ
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
sanâs attention suddenly shifts to behind you and thatâs the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
thereâs a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
âsan,â you shake him a little, âsan, wake upâ
his mouth tightens into a grimace as heâs slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
âfuckâŠthey hit hard,â he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, âare you hurt?â
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, âmy head hurts like a bitch, but iâm okayâ
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
âiâm sorry, iâm so sorry,â san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you canât do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
thatâs when you realise youâre no longer in the hold
youâre in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really donât want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daehoâs face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
âdid you have a good rest?â he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at sanâs seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, âi just want the cromerâ
âi donât know what youâre talking about,â san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at sanâs waist, âyouâre not very good at hiding it in your shirtâ
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
âwhy didnât you just take it from us earlier,â you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, âbut then whereâs the fun in that?â
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
ânow give it to me,â he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daehoâs hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of sanâs grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except youâre not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daehoâs face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but itâs drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of sanâs chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
itâs everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and heâs wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he canât get enough oxygen into his lungs because god youâre dying
and heâs suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
âi love you,â you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be sanâs
he shakes his head furiously, âshut up, youâre going to be fineâ
your words come out effortfully, âplease, i want to hear you say it one last timeâ
âfuck,â san buries his face in your shoulder, âi love you so, so much. i canât live without youâ
he pulls back heartbroken, âi can still change thisâ
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup sanâs jaw
âs-san, donât do itâ
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, âthe cromer isnât meant for changing fate.â it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. âit never goes th- the way you want it toâŠyou know that by nowâ
sanâs voice is broken and pained, âi donât fucking care. itâs not going to stop me from tryingâ
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
itâs becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can restâŠjust for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but itâs far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
mingi
pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
itâll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
youâre sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that itâs reassuring when you can see blood
because itâs visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
thereâs a procedure and it makes sense
but when itâs invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crewâs surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you canât even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
itâs uncomfortable but you donât move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you donât think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that youâre still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
thatâs where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
âoh, shit,â he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
âcan you carve me another dolphin?â
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like itâs something valuable
âi already made you one,â you start
but he protests, âi lost him!â
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
â...you lost it?â
youâre not sure whether youâre disappointed or relieved that itâs forever gone to the void
âi lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?â
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
âfine, pass me the knife,â you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
âare these my scalpels?!â you clutch them defensively to your chest. âmingi, i am not carving wood with theseâ
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
âyouâre ridiculous,â you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you donât really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesnât
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
âŠas mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he wonât, because otherwise youâll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so heâll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
heâll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he wonât say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then heâll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but thatâs tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesnât seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you donât have another bad day that week
technically, theyâre all still bad days, but they arenât as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
youâre not even sad
youâre justâŠhollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crowâs nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosangâs lookout duties so that he could go to the townâs tavern
youâve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably wonât be eating dinner either
ây/n,â a voice calls out to you from the deck, âare you not going into town?â
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingiâs small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
âlookout duties,â you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
âthe whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captainâs still on board to make sure our ship doesnât catch on fire or some shit, donât worryâ
when you still donât make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
âheavens, okay, iâm coming downâ
heâs banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, âcan we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuffâ
âsince when did you like seafood?â
âalways?â
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows youâre feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
âmingi, what-?â you break out into an astounded laugh
you canât even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like heâs bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
âŠbefore placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
âeat,â he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he canât help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when youâre sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time youâve swallowed, thereâs already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingiâs plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but itâs all you can really manage to do
itâs hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
âcan i tell you a story?â mingi isnât really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you canât give, he starts to talk
âi donât think iâve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that nightâ
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows heâs told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you donât disappear with the wind
(âdid you know that yunhoâs chest goes red when he screams in fright?â)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingiâs own rumbling sounds
except you canât
itâs like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you donât talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things donât need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress thatâs been made and thatâs okay
after allâŠmingiâs been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat wonât last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomachâs fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but itâs crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jonghoâs, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingiâs voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when heâs confident that youâll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
itâs written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingiâs got a huge fucking heart
and itâs all yours
wooyoung
pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
âweâre headed off course againâ
âagain?â you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, âi canât get a read on north. the needle keeps flickeringâ
you look at the compass thatâs mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass youâve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that itâs not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when itâs one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
âmaybe we should ask him,â yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
âyou trust that person?â
yunho shrugs, âitâs not like heâs given us a reason to not trust himâ
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was âvaluableâ, you think that thereâs plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, âas in, since weâve found him on boardâ
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and thereâs been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
âstowawayâ
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where heâs helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, heâs gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, âhelp yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out whatâs wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
âof course, captain!â
youâre taken aback by his demeanour because youâre trying to find a reason to distrust him
but heâs not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, âgive him a little creditâ
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
âkeep me updated on the shipâs courseâ
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
âand thanksâŠwooyoung.â
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if heâs not giving you reasons to dislike him, then youâre going to ensure he doesnât start giving you reasons to like him
exceptâŠwooyoung attacks when you least expect it
itâs the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, heâs freakishly accurate to the point where itâs a little unsettling
at least thatâs what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you donât have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isnât just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isnât using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but youâre not about to admit that aloud
and thatâs exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that heâs usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
âfucking hell, what did he put in this?â
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, âi could eat this every day,â before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
thereâs a chorus of teasing ooohâs at your words and somebody sing-songs, âcaptain likes youuu-r cookingâ
âi donât,â you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but itâs him who comes to your defence
âitâs not my cooking, itâs just the spices that make a difference,â wooyoung insists
then heâs gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him heâs still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
âŠnot that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoungâs potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe youâre just looking for excuses as to why youâre allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since youâd docked at vlasgar, youâre surprised to find that youâre not the only one still awake
âiâm going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?â
hongjoong shakes his head, âhwaâs gone out too, iâll stay behindâ
you pause, wondering whether itâd be rude if you didnât extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering heâs literally two feet away
âwhat about you?â you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, âyeah, iâll come withâ
to your own surprise, you find that youâre not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
youâre not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and youâre content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
âmy father never liked the taste of ale,â wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
âis heâŠstill around?â you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest heâs been tonight, before he reveals, âhe took his own lifeâ
âoh, wooyoung,â you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, âitâs already been two years, but it still hurtsâ
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, âtime doesnât mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesnâtâ
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
âhave you also lost somebody?â
you nod at his question
âmy parents,â you hesitate before adding, âtheir ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of lightâ
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, âthe one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?â
thereâs not a single person who doesnât know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
âwell now that weâve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?â you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
âiâm being chased by a lunatic whoâs out for my blood,â he deadpans
âthat would have been nice to know before i let you join my crewâ
wooyoung grins wickedly, âiâm part of your crew?â
âiâm definitely rethinking it,â you banter before you add on seriously, âonly if you want to beâ
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, âit would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crewâs service!â
âshut the fuck up!â you hiss in embarrassment, but thereâs no bite to your words and youâre laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, âletâs head back, shall we?â
âyeah,â he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoungâs shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
âwhatâs his problem,â you mutter angrily. âare you okay?â
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and thereâs a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering itâs the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
thereâs an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
youâre drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you donât know
the womanâs head is covered by a dusty shawl but you donât miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice thereâs something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your shipâs helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, âtheyâre all uselessâ
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, âthe only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearbyâ
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, âwhat do you mean by something better?â
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesnât want to let you in on
âtrue northâ
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that youâre wasting your time
she doesnât say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, âdo you believe what sheâs saying?â
âof course not, it doesnât make any sense,â you glance at the tavern youâre walking past, telling you that the port is close now. âhow can you have true north?â
wooyoungâs brows knit together, âwell, thereâs that old legend that says true north isnât actually a direction, but a-â
heâs cut off by an amused voice behind you both
âso it really is youâŠjung wooyoungâ
when you turn around, youâre met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
itâs evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoungâs face loses its colour, theyâre acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the manâs tone is saccharine as he continues, âwhen one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didnât believe himâ
âwhat do you want?â you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, âitâs the lunatic. jang hyunsooâ
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, âi want him. dead.â
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, âand why are you so intent on killing him?â
âoh?â he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. âyou must not know who he truly isâ
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, âi donât care who the fuck he is. heâs my crew member and thatâs all that ma-â
âheâs the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceansâ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true northâ
those two words again
you donât understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea ofâŠ
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earthâs axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
âif you kill me, thereâs no guarantee youâll survive the consequences,â he tries to reason with the other. âjust have a look at how close we are to seaâ
youâre lost but hyunsoo sneers, âitâs not your power that iâm hungry for. itâs only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my familyâ
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, âwhat the fuck do you think youâre sayingâ
âhow do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,â hyunsooâs expression becomes hauntingly blank, âwhat happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?â
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, â...a tidal waveâ
âyes,â he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, âbecause true north - my father - was killedâ
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
âkilled by my father,â wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, ây/nâŠyour parentsâŠâ
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
âwooyoung,â you warn, âitâs not your faultâ
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the manâs own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
âwhat are you doing?â he tries to tug you behind him
thereâs a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, âstowaway, youâve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckinâ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sailâ
âhow touching,â hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, âlooks like iâll just have to kill the both of youâ
you donât stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if youâre prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that theyâre watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your heartsâ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoungâs needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and thatâs exactly what you are to him and him to you
each otherâs true north
jongho
pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the shipâs hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldnât be following so closely but itâs hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
thereâs a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if youâre really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and youâll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, whatâs the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret wonât change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net youâre trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the shipâs hull, until it levels with the gunwale
thereâs someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
âpleaseâ
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
thereâs another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you canât make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, youâre seconds away from being discovered
âcome on, come on, come on,â the boy mutters through gritted teeth
thereâs a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boyâs wide eyes peering over the shipâs edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
itâs difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but itâs fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as itâs battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that itâs free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the manâs limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
youâre reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what heâs doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and thenâŠ
you
your eyes widen when the manâs unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
itâs hard to forget when heâs kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he canât believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses thatâs what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shorelineâs sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
heâs tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he canât help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
âŠonly to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but itâs unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesnât know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself itâs purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
youâre well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken shipsâŠ
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
itâs ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesnât want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
youâve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
youâre not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesnât seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because heâs afraid of you, but because heâs afraid heâll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
heâs reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
âhi,â he breathes out softly, âiâm jonghoâ
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the waterâs surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
heâs a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, âwould you like to eat with me? unlessâŠâ he trails off, âunless you donât eat fish becauseâŠâ
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
âwhy are you staring?â
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
âif your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?â
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jonghoâs cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a sirenâs song is that you donât realise youâve become captivatedâŠ
until itâs too late
youâre looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
itâs cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
youâve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you donât notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until itâs almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesnât puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise itâs not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you wonât show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesnât quite reach your eyes
(you werenât going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if youâre the only one who knows itâs a goodbye)
âwhatâs that?â he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
âitâs a comb,â he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, âmade out of animal bone, i thinkâ
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, âwhatâs a comb?â
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
âyou run it through your hair to untangle itâ
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
âi canâŠshow you how to use itâŠif you want?â he offers
just once, youâll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebodyâs hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
âare you feeling okay?â jonghoâs voice sounds even more alluring when itâs right next to your ear and you canât help but shudder this time. âyou seem paler than usualâ
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, âiâŠâ
i think iâm in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that youâre fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand thatâs still resting on your waist
a scar
âis that- how did you get this?â
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as youâre suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
âi cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing netâ
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didnât know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
âwhy is your tail turning grey?â the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it wonât be long until thatâs exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
ây/n! why is your tail grey?!â jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you canât- wonât die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as youâre forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because heâs not sure whatâs happening and he doesnât know what he can do for you and you look like youâre in pain but he doesnât know why-
âdonât!â you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
youâre frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, butâŠ
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, âdonât look for meâ
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jonghoâs lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after youâve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
youâre drowning.
jongho doesnât care if youâll hate him forever, doesnât care if this is the last time youâll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
youâre limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life-Â
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you donât respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, youâre sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jonghoâs face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jonghoâs arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the waterâs surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
âjongho, you-â
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
âyour tail!â he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
âyeahâŠâ voice muted as you process the fact that youâre still alive, âmy tailâŠâ
âfuck, you scared meâ
jonghoâs eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they arenât just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, âsorryâŠi scared me, tooâ
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
âdonât ever do that againâ
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but itâs deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
itâs the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
âi wonât,â you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
taglist | unable to be tagged check your visibility settings âĄ
@thecarnivaloflies @binchanluvrr @ppprimary @hwas-housewife @itza-meee
@lavishloving @okshu @alexwritesfics @ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad
@hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent @darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178
@taechwitaaaa @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi @sinemm
@kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia @nollamuumialaaksossa
@skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @ddeonghwva @delulu18 @elaichi-chai
@dinossaurz @icarusignite
DAMNNNđđ€Łđ€Łđ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł
That's me đđ» while reading this
rizzing up boyfriend!ateez
genre: ot8 x implied fem!reader, very suggestive, crack, fake texts
c/w: explicit content - mdni (dirty jokes, crude language, swearing), dark humour, pet names
a/n: interim smau while i work on my next fic bc it's going to be a long one đâïž
taglist: at the end
apply for taglist
@thecarnivaloflies @binchanluvrr @ppprimary @itza-meee @lavishloving
@okshu @everythingboutkpop @ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess
@booyoungie @green-agent @darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @taechwitaaaa
@babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi @sinemm @kibs-and-bits
@mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia @nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3
@minkilicious @veebyvee @delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo
asking boyfriend!ateez to buy you pads
genre: ot8 x fem!reader, crack, fluff, fake texts
c/w: the boys are trying their best okay, swearing, crude language, pet names
a/n: bc the only way to get through shark week đŠđ©ž is to pretend boyfie ateez will (try to) take care of you đâïž also in other news i got rear-ended the other day LOL @sorryimananti-romantic can confirm the other driver was st00pid
taglist: at the end
apply for taglist | unable to be tagged
@thecarnivaloflies @binchanluvrr @ifykyunho @ppprimary @itza-meee
@lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop @ayytease
@hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent @darkmentalitystarfish-blog
@taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi @itstheghostofmypast
@kiki277 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia
@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @delulu18
@teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @fureastel @seomisaho @levishun
@readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds @apriecotte @smally97 @savluvsmingi
@pixie0627 @kyeos4ng @yunhowooyo @yeehawnana @telail
@drinkingrumandcocacola @iykyunho @myblovedjyh @enhacracy @satsuri3su
This is a masterpiece, my dearđđ„°đ„°đ All the progress and how their relationship develops is realistic and feels natural to me. I have no words to describe how amazing and how much I love this story, Lorenđ„°đđ«¶đ»
I started reading this before going to bed and plan to read half of it, but I can'tđ« . The storyline immersed me and made me lose track of time, and when I finished, it was already 5.15 amđ„č.
(but I don't regret it, it's worth it. Glad I don't have any work in the morning thođ«Łđ€)
Thank you for writing and sharing this wonderful masterpiece with us, my dear. I hope you have a wonderful day đ„°đ„°. This is me to you đđ»đđ»
our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom
genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 37.6k
c/w: sweaty and athletic ateez (warning well deserved), explicit profanity, themes of corruption and rocky family relationships, trauma, hurt/comfort, injuries, kissing, boys are in an established relationship, m x m interactions
synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.
a/n: it has made me incredibly touched to see so many of my readers from the essence of youth come back to support this new oneshot. thank you from the bottom of my heart ⥠and as always, this fic would not have been possible without @sorryimananti-romantic and her undying support
if someone were to ask yunhoâor anybody on the teamâwhen he feels the most alive, his answer would be the same every single time: when he is on the ice, just like he is right now.
the air of the rink is already chilly, but with the added cold of emerging autumn, each rugged lungful he takes fills his chest with vigour. only his own heavy breathing can be heard as the rest of the playersâ shouts become muffled into the background outside of his helmet. he tightens his grip on his stick, muscles locked and engaged with adrenaline. his vision narrows, an opening suddenly clearing itself through the tangle of sticks and jungle of skatesâa golden opportunity for him to take.
âsan!â he yells.
their usual goaltender glances upwards as he handles the puck rebounding off the boards. his jaw tightens and with a practised flick of his wrist, san chips the puck over an incoming stickâs attempt to block the pass. thereâs a burst of explosive power as yunho speeds up along the opposite boards to receive the landing puck, hoping to break away from the opposing teamâs offensive players before he passes it off.
the flash of a blue jersey appears in yunhoâs vision with alarming momentum. they lower and widen their stance, shoulder positioned in front ready to knock him directly into the boards in an attempt to steal the puck, leaving yunho with no choice but to mirror their actions. he braces himself as the opponent rams into him with more force than a usual play, and in combination with their own towering height, yunho finds himself being pushed into the plexiglass panels as he loses possession of the puck.
involuntarily, he lets out a threatening growl of vexation. there is a teasing chuckle from the other player that still has him pinned against the wall despite the continuing game, which clearly tells him that the excessive body check was deliberate. yunho has half a mind to flip their positions, knowing he could easily overpower the other. but before he can adjust his stick out of the way to make good use of his hands, the opponent playfully knocks their helmets together.
âyouâre hot when you get all competitive and riled up.â
all of the tension escapes yunhoâs body, because he will never not find mingiâs attempts to flirt mid-gameâwith his mouthguard and resultant bumbling pronunciationâto be amusing. he endearingly rolls his eyes and sighs, âhave you not heard of, âdonât poke the bearâ?â
âyouâre not a bear, though,â mingi squirms cheekily on the spot, still up in yunhoâs personal space because he knows the older will never be truly annoyed by his antics. âyouâre just a cute, harmless puppy.â
before mingi can blink, yunho grabs him by the shoulders and pins him against the wall. yunho smirks, âand they also say, âlet sleeping dogs lieâ.â
wooyoung tongues his cheek with mischief at the sight of the two, nice and cosy against the walls of the rink. he hands his stick off to seonghwa, who is starting to remove his helmet, and skates in their direction, ignoring the dull throb in his left ankle. wooyoung only bothers to slow himself down slightly, instead letting his trajectory be cushioned by something else.
mingi lets out a pathetic noise as the air is squeezed out of his chest from the impact of wooyoung and yunhoâs added weight. the latter grunts out, a little breathless, âwoo, please, youâre going to knock somebody out like this one day.â
it goes in one ear and out the other as wooyoung grins up at him to state, âseonghwa scored so we lost âcause you were too busy making out with mister mingles here.â
yunho pushes off the wall to free himself from the sandwich of bodies and pivots on his skates to jab wooyoungâs padded chest. âyou and san were doing the exact same thing just five minutes ago.â
âweâre on the same team,â wooyoung shrugs, âwhereas mingi is not, so youâre fraternising with the enemy. now come on losers, captainâs wrapping up practice.â
the three of them glide along the ice to rejoin the rest of the team, where they are stepping out of the rink to sit on the benches. they remove their helmets and start unlacing their skates as hongjoong gathers the attention of the team.
âgreat work from everybody today, especially you, jongho. your backhand wrist shots are improvingâkeep it up. now just a reminder to everyone that our regular games start next week so i want you all to make sure you are stretching and cooling down properly,â he emphasises. he pointedly looks at yeosang, who has already begun to wander his way off to the changerooms, at the same time that seonghwa scruffs him by the back of his jersey and gently tugs him back to the team.
jongho peels off his blue practice jersey as he scans the arena and absentmindedly asks, âis coach still not here? itâs already the end of practice.â
âhe said he had something to sort out today, but would come round if everything went well,â seonghwa answers, also craning his neck to look for signs of their coach.
from where you and coach cho are watching from the designated scouting area in the arena, the team is unable to spot you two. you had come from the final negotiations of your contract with coach cho and had watched their team, the red devils, play the last period of their game. despite it only being a friendly match amongst the teamâs players, you have already grasped a sense of their playing styleâit is heavy on the offensive at the expense of defence, just like how you used to play. it is fast-paced, aggressive andâŠprone to injury.
âletâs go meet the team,â coach cho voices, making his way out of the viewing area as you follow beside him. all the players look up from their skates that they are still unlacing or from their stretches on the floor when you two near the arrangement of benches surrounding the rink. they greet coach cho enthusiastically and you can see why from the way the older man smiles at them like they are his own sons.
ây/n, this is the team, the red devilsâmy pride and joy. boys, this is y/n,â he introduces. âi had to miss practice to meet up with y/n and make sure she was happy to sign on as part of the red devils.â
said team gives you disinterested glances, a complete change from the receptivity with which they respond to coach cho. one of the red-jerseyed boys, who you recognise as wooyoung, utters sarcastically, âcute, but we donât need a mascot or cheerleader.â
coach cho chuckles lightly, âsheâs your new coach.â
âhold on, you were serious aboutââ ââare you coaching a different teamââ ââyou donât want us anymore?â
some of the boys erupt into a barrage of questions, trying to make sense of the sudden announcement, whereas the others stay quiet, flickers of flashbacks stirring up from within the depths of their memories. their coach raises his hands to settle them as he apologises, âi didnât want to say anything before i was one hundred percent sure that things would go ahead, and i wasnât sure whether y/n would accept the offer.â
âis it because your wife is due soon?â san interrupts.
coach cho nods, âwith twins, and i want to be present to helpâas a husband and a father. but that just isnât feasible as your coach, as much as i love you boys.â
training as professional athletes takes incredible perseverance, discipline and commitment. there are early mornings, late nights, weekends and public holidays. it takes sacrifices in the form of time and relationships, especially when they must travel away from home for up to weeks on end to compete in matches. and with the start of the regular season, the intensity is only going to ramp up. as hard as the athletes train, the coach works twice as hard to make it all possible.
the team needs somebody to be there for them to ensure they make it into the playoffs, and it just wonât be fair for anybodyâthe players and his own familyâif coach cho were to keep his position. and the team gets it, they really do, butâ
âsheâs the new coach?â yunho frowns in confusion. âno offence, but weâre not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.â
âshe was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,â coach cho discloses.
âthe grey eagles? the under-21 menâs championship team?â yeosang looks incredulous.
mingi sceptically comments, âthe fact that weâve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.â
hongjoongâs lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the teamâs captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the teamâs entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus farâfive years, now well into their sixthâthe red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.
the teamâs alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, âif you donât mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? youâre clearly our ageânowhere near retiring.â
you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. âi stopped playing.â
âhow come?â
the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, âi chose to stop playing.â you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the teamâs hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.
your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.
âi would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,â hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, âsorry, but i canât respect a âcoachâ who chose to stop playing.â
at the captainâs words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. sanâs feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, âour team needs a bit of time. itâs hard for us to warm up toâŠoutsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. donât expect us to blindly trust you just because youâre a coach.â
the use of the word âoutsiderâ does not go unnoticed as you nod, âof course.â
san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, âguess some things havenât changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.â
you raise an eyebrow, âprickly? to you?â
âyes, believe it or not,â he chuckles nostalgically. âweâve come a long way because iâve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.â
you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, âwhat would you have done if i didnât sign the contract?â
âbegged you to rethink your decision,â he jokes with a pleased chortle. âi would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.â
âbut why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.â
he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, âyouâre familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.â at your silent processing, coach cho probes, âwhy didnât you tell them the real reason?â
you smile wistfully, âi didn't tell them because iâm not here to gain their pity.â
some of the boysâ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, âcaptain, is she really going to be our new coach?â
they step out from the facilityâs corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, âmaybe, but sheâs only the coach by title. iâm still the captain of the team, so letâs see who everyone listens to.â
as they exit the rinkâs arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships beforeâthis is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.
âi may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete, and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. iâm here to earn the teamâs respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.â
you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arenaâs perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.
autumn, 2018: pre-season
hongjoong believes all coaches are to be respected. it does not matter what kind of team they coach, how many years of experience they have, or whether they have built up a reputation for themselves. to hongjoong, respect for coaches is not something earned nor negotiableâit is something well-deserved and expected, as is for anybody in a position that is higher in the chain of command.
he may be the captain of their unofficial team, but hongjoong knows that the way a team can place their blind trust in the coach is irreplaceable, regardless of how much the other players rely on him too.
hongjoong watches as his boys carry out the practice drill he has set up for them. yeosang handles the puck around the cones before passing it to wooyoung, primed offensively near the goal to make a quick shot, who groans when his shot rebounds off the post. as he retrieves the disc, yeosang takes over wooyoungâs position near the goal ready to receive yunhoâs pass as he starts to work his way through the cones next.
they are limited in the type of drills they can practise because hongjoong was only able to rent half of the community rink for a measly two hours. the boys are not even in proper uniform, wearing only their shin guards under their sweatpants and gloves on their hands to prevent any injuries when the centre had stated very firmly they would not be allowed in with their bulky equipment.
and yet, none of this has dampened the boysâ spirits. san teasingly brags that it is his chance to show off his skills other than goaltending, and jongho thanks hongjoong quietly for renting the rink in the first place. their understanding nods and comforting hugs make hongjoongâs heart clench, even more so as the team eagerly and diligently practise the drills in mediocre conditions but with fiery determination to prove their worth as newly-signed athletes under the kq blue birds.
this is exactly why hongjoong is driven to find them a coachâany coach: to give his boys a solid pillar they can rely on, because he himself lacks the resources and strings to pull in order to fulfil their shared dreams. he needs to keep his boys as one team, instead of scattered into other teams as extra players like a gracious opportunity for the leftovers, since kq does not yet have a coach available for the eight of them.
âcaptain!â
the excitement in seonghwaâs voice startles hongjoong more than the speed at which the alternate captain skates towards him. seonghwa digs his skates into the ice at the last second, stopping himself just shy of knocking the other over as he exclaims, âhe emailed back!â
âthe coach you reached out to?â hongjoong clarifies, eyes growing wide.
having caught wind of his signed contract as a professional athlete, an acquaintance of seonghwaâs had reached out offering to pass on the contact of their acquaintance, who apparently knew somebody with coaching experience. it was rare for a coach to take on a rookie team unless there were incredible benefits, so he and hongjoong had drafted and sent an email with little to no expectations for a reply. but seonghwaâs furious nodding is telling otherwise, and his eyes sparkle as he shoves his phone in hongjoongâs face to show him the email.
dear mr park, thank you for your interest and for reaching out with your proposal. i have looked at your athlete profiles and it appears that you all have big dreams and extremely promising futures. it would be my utmost pleasure to help you all reach your true potential by coaching your team. if you would like to arrange a meeting in person to discuss expectations and conditions regarding training, competitions and future championships prior to finalising the contracts with your company, please let me know what times and dates best suit yourself and your team captain, mr kim. i look forward to working with you all. kind regards, coach yeon
âholy shit,â hongjoong steadies seonghwaâs giddy hand to read the email again. when he reaches the last line, he starts once more from the beginning to make sure his eyes are not lying to him. then he breathes out with finality, âholy shit. am i reading this right?â
âyeah, joong. youâre reading it right.â
hongjoong is not often one to be affectionate with the others, but yanking seonghwa into a bone-crushing hug as he repeats holy shit like a mantra is the only response he is able to muster. the older laughs wetly, throat constricting with overwhelming joy and he holds onto his captain until the other pulls back.
âyou tell them, okay?â seonghwa does not wait for a response before he is raising his voice to gather the others, âboys! hongjoong has good news for us!â
like puppies responding to the call of food, their heads immediately perk up and they abandon the puck and the drill to speed towards their two captains. there is a clamour of questions as they enthusiastically predict what is going to be said.
âare they letting us use the rink for longer?â
wooyoung squeezes himself in between yunho and mingi to ask, âare we getting the whole rink?!â
âno way,â san gasps, âor did our practice jerseys arrive?â
hongjoongâs eyes soften at their guesses. his boys demand so little from him when he wants to give them everything they could never even think of asking for. he glances at seonghwa, who looks just about ready to burst from his own excitement, then reveals, âweâve found a coach willing to take on our team.â
dead silence. yeosang blinks and wooyoungâs jaw drops. jongho, who had been lazily circling around the group, comically slows to a stop, joining the rest of the boys in frozen stupor. it is only broken when yunho dares to confirm, âdoes this mean we wonât be rostered as extras for other teams?â
everyoneâs hopeful eyes look at hongjoong. he nods, âweâre staying together and playing as our own team.â
it is obvious the moment the information registers in their minds and the implications of what it means for the teamâs future starts to sink in. they explode into a flurry of movement and hongjoong and seonghwa find themselves swept up into the middle of a clumsy group huddle as shouts are exchanged, uncaring of who is listening or talking.
âare we finally playing in championships with the big dogs?â
âweâre going to play interstate?â
âoh my god, what if we get into nationals?â
ânah, fuck that boys, letâs go international! weâre going to represent korea one day and become the best team in the world.â
the amount of voices overlapping one another are overwhelming, but it is overwhelming in the way that it makes hongjoong soar up into the clouds, wings stretched to their full span and carried by the hollers and cheers surrounding him in every direction. his cheeks hurt from smiling because these are the boys that he knows and loves.
they may only be a small team of eight, but they have dreams that are big enough to fill the entire universe.
âwhatâs the coaches nameââ ââknow if theyâre a good coachââ ââteams have they coached beforeââ
seonghwa chuckles as the boys hound them with question after question and hongjoong appeases their curiosity dotingly, âweâll find out when we meet himâcoach yeon.â
but it does not matter what qualifications coach yeon has or does not have, and it does not matter what teams he has coached or has not coached before. what matters is that he is a coach and he is willing to be their coach, because it means that hongjoong and his boys are finally taking the next step towards their big dreams.Â
and most importantly, they will be in this togetherâŠas the red devils.
autumn, present: regular season
âagain.â
hongjoong grits his teeth, taking up his position as centre again in the marked circle for the practice drill. even during defensive faceoff plays, he and the team are accustomed to taking on an aggressive approach. when he wins possession of the puck, the wingersâusually yeosang and wooyoung, or jongho when substituted onâquickly breakaway and move forward with him into the offensive zone.
obviously, they have other strategic plays too to switch up the predictability of their tactics, such as moving the puck towards the board whilst yeosang covers him, or by passing the puck back to the mingi in defence. but overall, their team is capable of rapidly flipping from defensive to offensive play using the aggressive setup.
the practice drill you are currently running emphasises heavily on the defenceâthe reverse setup play. hongjoong is to pass backwards but in the direction of the boards whilst yeosang supports and wooyoung covers the area directly between the circle and san. mingi moves towards the boards to receive the puck, and their other defenceman, yunho, assists with covering the goal.
hongjoong does admit that this play is much safer and stabler, but it is also much slower andâŠcowardly. his team is called the red devils for a reason and their reputation as demons on ice is not something that he is going to throw awayânot following years of blood, sweat and tears to stand back up after falling during their rookie year.
when he assumes his stance once again inside the faceoff circle opposite seonghwa, who is playing the centre position as the mock opponent, you drop the puck onto the centre dot. the moment it hits the ice, hongjoong clears it with his stick towards the right boards. it doesnât go back far enough for mingi to receive though, so yeosang makes the split decision to burst sideways to retrieve the puck, all three forwards moving aggressively in synchronisation to advance offensively once he gains possession.
you stop them, shaking your head. âagain.â
it has been a week since your first meeting with the team, and with the start of the regular season, training has focused on refining their strategies. the red devils are playing in the korean ice hockey league for the second time, an annual national championship with a singular menâs division.
teams from all over korea gather in seoul to compete in regular-season games at the gangneung ice arena against the other teams in rotation. depending on the number of participants, the red devils will need to play an average of three games a week for the next five to six months. then based on the outcome of the games, if your team scores within the top thirty two, they will be able to enter the playoffs.
last year, the red devils were only able to make it to the quarterfinals before they were knocked out. but considering it was their first time competing in a proper championshipâas opposed to the rookie leagues and interstate competitions they competed in during the first four years of their careerâmaking it into the top eight teams out of over a hundred or so teams was already impressive enough.
your teamâs first regular-season game starts tomorrow, so it does not matter that this is the sixth time in a row that you have stopped them during this drill. you will make them restart until they perfect the play. with that in mind, you release the puck onto the centre dot of the circle once more, but this time seonghwa wins the faceoff, clearing it to the side where jongho is waiting as his left wing. seonghwa looks at you guiltily and anticipates the word that will come out of your mouth.
you bite your tongue, having sensed the rising tension amongst the team an hour ago, but now they are almost at their boiling point. closing your eyes briefly, you try reminding yourself to think about the situation from your playersâ perspectives.
their career progression rides on this championship, and with their grit and determination, they will not settle for simply beating their own record in ranking. no, they vie for first place. only the top team secures a position in the international ice hockey league, the most coveted opportunity to represent korea in the championship between the worldâs best teams.
and it is during this vital timeâwhen the stress levels and stakes are as high as they can getâthat the boys have suddenly had to change coaches. not only have they lost their most trusted support and guide, they have only had one week to adjust to their new oneâyou. in the grand scheme of things, one week is nowhere near enough time to develop any sort of meaningful relationship where they are able to listen to and rely on you.
taking a breath, you explain, âbeing so focused on offence leaves your team vulnerable if the opposing team also has aggressive forwards that you canât break through. the faceoff play needs to be adjusted for those situations, otherwise itâll be too difficult to control the puck and it will more than likely end up in chaos. it wonât be a game of professional skill anymore, but a circus of dirty play.â
your defence-focused coaching style has worked well for all the past teams you have taught, both menâs and womenâs teams. you know that the boys play an offence-focused style; you are reminded too closely of your past self every time they rush head-on into every situation. and it is exactly because of thatâbecause you know the dangers that come with their aggressive styleâthat you are making them adjust their play. their career comes first and if they suffer an injury, there may not be a career left.
so you will play the bad cop if you have to. they will come to understand you one day.
san bites down on his mouthguard as he listens from his position in the goal. he is able to see each and every play unfold, better than any other of his teammates, so he knows where you are coming from. whilst he has become used to the pressures that come with goaltending, no amount of training or competitions will ever fully eliminate the sudden spike in fear and anticipation the moment the opposing teamâs forwards break past yunho and mingi.
san is the teamâs last line of defence and the best outcome is that a game never comes down to just him, the opponentâs stick, and his goal. it is true that his team needs to work on their defensive plays, so when the others huff in defiance and reluctantly reset their positions, san simply lowers his centre of gravity in wait for your cue to restart the drill.
âagain.â
outside the arena, the echo of sticks and scraping of skates sound faintly as the first leaf of autumn begins to fall to the ground. as time passes, the rest of the leaves will also succumb to a similar fate, only differing in how. some will fall in a slow and graceful descent, whilst othersâŠ
âŠa rapid and spiralling whirlwind downwards.
counting the heads and finding all eight of your players seated in the bus, you nod to the driver to close the door and start driving. most of the boys have chosen to sit on a two-seater by themselves, only yunho and mingi choosing to sit together. they share a set of wired earphones, eyebrows furrowed in concentration at one of their phones, likely monitoring one of their own matches or one of another teamâs.
the rest of the boys sit alone, faces grim and tight as they stare out the window. they look exactly like you used to and it hits you with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.
the ride to the competition venueâmuch less for the very first game of the seasonâis always the quietest, air strung tight with nerves as everyone prepares themselves psychologically for the inevitable pressures that the game will bring. being able to compose and centre oneâs mindset is already half the battle won, and whilst nobody says it out loud, you all know that todayâs results, despite it only being day one, will set the tone for the next four to five months as they fight to qualify for the playoffs.
as you make one final sweep from the back of the bus to the front whilst it pulls away from the curb, you accidentally make eye contact with yeosang. you give him a polite smile and he opens his mouth, closes it on second thought, then decides to ask anyway, âdo you want to sit here?â
it is a lie to say that you are not surprised by the question, so you stumble over your response as you stammer, âoh, okay. thanks.â
yeosang reciprocates your noise of disorientation and when he fumbles to move his bag aside that had been occupying the space beside him, you belatedly realise he was only asking out of courtesy. but backtracking now and rejecting his offer would be a million times worse and you can only try to hide the flaming heat behind your cheeks as best as you can as you sit down in the seat.
he fiddles with the straps of his bag and you can feel his discomfort reeking off his hands. in an attempt to break the ice, you glance at him, âare you nervous for the game?â
he nods, âdonât think it gets any less nerve-wracking no matter how many games you play.â
âwell this is a pretty big championship. you have every reason to feel nervous,â you hum.
yeosang levels you with a look. âare you trying to make me feel better or worse?â
you do not know him well enough to be able to discern whether he is joking with you or not. opting to clear your throat instead, you point out, âyou have your teammates who you can trust.â
âyeahâŠteammates.â
and you have me, too, as your coach, you want to say.
the hopeful glimpse in the dark of your eyes is enough for yeosang to pick up on your thoughts. he swallows uncomfortably and looks away.
we donât know that yet.
you bite the inside of your cheek, trying once more to extend the conversation after a pregnant pause. âdid you guys have a coach before cho?â either you have a shitty sense of appropriate conversation starters or yeosang wants absolutely nothing to do with you (it is likely both, but one can be optimistic), because his shoulders tense almost immediately.
âwe didâŠjust one,â he starts off carefully. you think that that is going to be the end of it, but then he adds on, âwe donât really talk about him though.â
and there it isâthe end of the conversation. it is his nice way of telling you that there is no more to be said, so you sit the rest of the ride in silence next to yeosang, pretending not to let the sheer awkwardness suffocate you.
when the bus arrives at the gangneung ice arena, you hurry to alight and only then do you feel like you are able to breathe again. you plaster on a smile and notify the boys, âyour first game is in two hours against the panthers. youâve been allocated locker room 3B.â
they make their way into the centre and you trail behind in wait as they find their designated space. warm-ups will be first so they will not be needing their full gear just yet, which means it should not take long for them to change.
inside the locker room, the red devils shrug off their bulky duffle bags and change into their game jerseys, lacing and relacing their skates to ensure the snuggest fits. hongjoong alerts, âboys, time to go out and start warming up,â receiving a chorus of acknowledgement as everyone grabs the rest of the gear that they need.
before jongho places his phone into his assigned locker, he habitually taps on the screen one last time to check for any notifications and finds a single text from his younger brother, jonghyuk. he knows he should not read it, much less right before his first game, but the smaller part inside him that yearns for his familyâs recognition dares to hope for something. dragging the preview down to avoid opening it, jongho reads the text.
are you just going to keep pretending you havenât read our messages?
jongho clenches his jaw and swipes the notification away as if that will also erase it from his mind. tossing his phone into the locker, he shuts it with a harsh swing, resting his forehead against the cool metal as he closes his eyes and breathes out shakily. this gameâthis championshipâjongho has to win; he cannot afford to lose.
âcaptain.â
hongjoong turns around to see jongho striding up towards him, brows furrowed and voice troubled as he questions, âare we really not going to tell coach what our game plan is? shouldnât we work together with her?â
âjongho,â the captain sighs, âwe got lucky with coach cho, but we know better than anyone else that not all coaches are like him.â
from where he has been listening in on the conversation at the doors leading out of the locker room, seonghwaâs shoulders stiffen. there is a moment of silence; the rest of the team have already made their way to the ice rink.
âwhat if we lose?â
it is the way that his voice grows small and timid that hongjoong realises it is not his captain that jongho needs right now. hongjoongâs gaze softens as he searches the youngerâs eyes, âdid your family say something again?â
he receives no answer but it tells him more than enough. âyou trust me?â
jonghoâs almost imperceptible nod does not escape hongjoongâs observations, so he continues to reassure, âweâll win. my boys are the best players, you included, and we already have experience playing in this competition.â he ducks down slightly to meet jonghoâs gaze, âand even if we do lose? we lose because of our own skillsânot because of anybody else.â
his words tug a small smile out of the corner of the youngestâs lips, and hongjoong returns it with a relieved smile. with a nudge, he sends jongho in the direction of the door, where seonghwa pretends to ruffle his hair affectionately knowing that it will be dodged. seonghwa chuckles lightly and watches him walk off, unbeknownst to his captain watching him.
âhey,â hongjoong calls out gently, âi know what youâre thinking, but that wasnât what i meant.â
seonghwa looks back and winces, âi canât help it.â
âand thatâs why i will keep telling you no matter how many times you need to hear it. it is not your faultânever was, and never will be,â hongjoong cocks his head playfully as he raises an eyebrow.
âsame goes to you then, captain,â seonghwa returns the banter, shoulders relaxing and head shaking, ânot your fault either.â
âyouâre right, so letâs get the fuck out there and smash our game, yeah?â hongjoong slings his arm around the other and leads them both out of the locker room to join the rest of the boys.
what he does not say, though, is that seonghwa is wrong. seonghwa may have been the one to reach out to coach yeon, but hongjoong was the one who made the executive decision to accept and trust coach yeon.
he is not going to make the same mistake twice this time, because it is not just about protecting his dreams, his career, or those of his teammatesâit is about protecting the people he loves.
hongjoong will not let them fallâŠnot again.
winter, 2018: regular season
jongho twirls his phone in his hand, intermittently turning the screen on and off. he sits in the corner of the locker room, away from the rest of the boys as they wait for coach yeon to return from checking in and filling out their required paperwork. only several competitions later will they realise that their locker room is small, cramped and dim, but to their fresh, bright-eyed excitement at competing in a professional league for the first time, they hardly have time to critique the assigned space.
the phone comes to a stop. making up his mind, jongho taps on the screen and navigates to the keypad. dialling his motherâs number, he brings the phone up to his ear and waits with bated breath as it is left to ring.
âwhat do you want,â comes her curt response when she finally picks up.
jonghoâs words falter, âoh, nothingâŠi just wanted to tell you that weâre playing our first game today.â
âgame? your little team doesnât even have a coach,â his mother patronises.
shoulders curling in on themselves, jongho hesitantly voices, âi told you last month that we got a coach.â
âi forgot,â she brushes him off, âand it must not be a very important competition then, seeing as it isnât worth remembering.â
âthereâs prize money,â he reveals. maybe if he can bring some of it home for his parents, they will recognise his efforts.
she sceptically probes, âis it national? international?â
ânoâŠregionals.â
âis it ranked at least?â
âitâs just an entry-level competition for rookie teams,â jongho trails off, discouraged and confidence in shambles.
his mother scoffs at his answers, none of which are the ones she wants to hear. âyou have no excuse not to win this competition, then. this is childâs play. just look at jonghyuk. heâs two years younger than you, yet already has his eyes on the olympics. if you lose, i donât want to hear about itâdonât bring shame to our family.â
âokay,â jongho mumbles, but his answer is only heard by the beeping dial of the ended callâŠand the rest of the boys it seems, if not apparent by the sombre hush that has settled over the room and the worried lips that he sees when he looks up.
yeosangâs mouth parts, the youngerâs name on the tip of his tongue, but then coach yeon enters the locker room and calls for their attention. jongho gives them a reassuring smile before setting his phone beside him on the bench and directing his gaze to their coach, grateful for the distraction. it leaves yeosang and the others with no choice but to drop it for now.
coach yeon erases the old scribbles on the roomâs whiteboard and replaces it with rough markings of the hockey rink. he drags the magnets into the different zones, each one representative of a player, as he goes over the final lineup and their respective positions based on the opposing team they have been pooled against.
âstay strong on the offensive and maintain a 2-1-2 formation where possibleâyeosang, i want you up there with hongjoong and put pressure on the other team. if they gain puck possession, both of you fall back to where wooyoung is and maintain 3-2.â
the three forwards nod and coach yeon touches one of the magnets positioned on the playerâs bench. âjongho, youâll come on for your shift during the second period. whoever you replace will come back in later to sub the other wing. yeosang and wooyoung, you should both be playing again during the third period.â
âyes, coach,â jongho acknowledges.
coach yeon continues on to review their game plan and hongjoong steps up to assist with detailing their different strategic plays. to jongho though, their words sound like he is listening from underwater as his mind involuntary drifts off. it is a small saving grace that his parents do not care for his match, because it means that they will not see that he is not part of the starting lineup.
for seven of the people in the locker room, winning the competition is an aspiration, but for one of them it is an expectation. and for the remaining individual, the competition in itself is an opportunity, but for an entirely different reason.
winter, present: regular season
inevitably, you find out. when discrepancies start to occur between training, pre-game meetings and the actual games, it is only a matter of time before you start to notice them.
it starts off with the uncommon plays that are simply a response to the game situationâones that are dire and not often brought up prior to them actually occurring. during their fourth regular game of the season, the red devils are behind by two goals. the last period is almost over when they miraculously gain the power advantage after two of the opposing players are sent to the penalty box in quick succession.
before you realise what is happening, hongjoong gives his team a signal and both yunho and mingi on defence and san in the goal all rush forward to attack with the wings. you can only watch with wide eyes as they risk an empty net in the hopes of scoring two much-needed goals to even the playing field.
wooyoung manages to score one with a quick shot, but with the release of the opponents from the penalty box, their advantage is put to an end and they ultimately finish the match with a loss. you do not dwell too much on their sudden change in tactics despite the lack of communication with you, because you understand that every single game requires a different approach. sometimes, there is no time to strategise, only time to act.
but one occurrence turns into two, and two turns into several. and when, during one of their matches the week prior, jongho and wooyoung swap positions on the left and right sides of the rink as soon as the youngest replaces yeosangâs shift, it becomes quite conclusive that they are deliberately withholding information from you.
the boys are not brainless. it is not a coincidence for you and the team to discuss one game plan in the locker room only for it to completely change the moment they step onto the hockey rink.
you silently watch as the boys prepare for a faceoff in their defensive zone. they are currently playing against the incheon bears and the timing of the penalty puts you all on edge; the score is currently tied four to four and only twelve seconds are left on the clock. you had requested a time-out right as the referee made the call in hopes of stopping the momentum of the opposing team and to tell the boys to play defensively for this faceoff.
âplay it safe. stall for the last twelve seconds and drag the game into overtime,â you had ordered.
the incheon bears have made a shift change with their player number four coming on for the faceoff, their right wing who has low stamina but terrifyingly accurate shots. he is responsible for most of his teamâs goals and several other scoring attempts that san had only just managed to block. you are also almost certain that they will be aggressively body checking your players to make this faceoff count for them. your forwards have to play safelyânot just for the sake of the gameâs score.
at your defensive suggestion, san had nodded in agreement with you, âforwards need to make passes with sure lanesânothing that can risk getting intercepted. go for the reverse setup play if you guys can.â
âwe donât need to take this into overtime,â hongjoong had started to argue, âother than number four, the rest of their offence is weak. as long as we break past him, we have an opportunity to score.â
âcaptainââ
the whistle blows before mingi can give his two cents, the mere thirty seconds for the time-out far too short, and the boys hurry to enter the rink again. hongjoong leans in quickly to say something to them before they disperse into their positions and mingi glances at you, almost guiltily.
you do not have the confidence that your team will listen. san may have seen the advantages in favouring a defensive play, but he is not the one who will decide which direction the puck will go when the referee drops it onto the ice. hongjoong is.
the hand of the referee raises to signal the start of the faceoff and both teamâs centre forwards lower their stance. then the puck hits the ice. hongjoongâs nimble reflexes help him to snap his wrist and twist the puck away from the incheon bearâs player, wooyoung already surging ahead with explosive strides towards the other end of the rink. but just as you fear, the opponentâs left wing thunders at hongjoong with horrifying speed, intention solely to bowl him over onto the iceânot to steal the puck.
âfuck, captain!â you yell, heart leaping up into your throat as it cuts off your breath.
hongjoongâs eyes snap upwards and darken, jaws aching from the force with which he grinds his teeth together despite his mouthguard. he suddenly pivots on the edges of his skates and shifts his weight to only just narrowly miss the body check, then flicks the puck away before another player can knock him down.
he does not need to look before passing to where he knows wooyoung will be, years of synergy allowing their plays to connect seamlessly. except incheon bearâs number four has predicted their exact play, having been watching from the benches and noting your forwardsâ preference for aggressive attacks.
âshit,â yunho curses under his breath, ice shaving under his skates from the accelerating force of his strides towards the puck. he is not going to make it in time. âmingi!â
seonghwa jolts up to his feet from the playerâs bench, chest mid-inhale with apprehension at the captainâs pass. the puck is intercepted within the blink of an eye and with a well-timed punch turn around yunhoâs attempt to regain possession, the rival teamâs number four makes a shot for the goal.
it is too fast for mingiâs stick to blockâarm still stretching out with desperationâand although san drops down to his knees in hopes of barricading the goal with his leg pads, the trajectory of the puck arcs higher than he had predicted.
as the puck soars past san and hits the netting of the goal, the buzzer sounds in tandem with the eruption of cheers around the rink. all around, the incheon bears swarm towards their number four in joyous celebration. mingi leans over to rest his hands on his knees from both exhaustion and defeat, and the other boys stand in similar stances as the outcome of the game registers in their tired minds.
in an attempt to cheer them up despite his own disappointment, seonghwa half-heartedly smiles at his boys as they slowly start to trudge their way off the rink. âwe played well, boys. it was unlucky that our pass got intercepted, but we can do better next time.â
âgood thing it isnât the playoffs yet,â yunho tries to joke, âso weâre still in the competition.â
nobody cracks a smile and wooyoungâs face is dark, hand grabbing the walls in support to favour his left foot whilst lifting his skates over the slight ledge of the bench door. noting his slight limp, san quietly murmurs in worry, âdid you tape your ankle?â
wooyoung shakes his head. âi ran out. forgot to buy some yesterday.â
âmake sure you ice it tonight then, okay?â san gently supports him by the elbow to the benches so they can loosen the laces of their skates and grab their things before heading to the locker room.
you look away to flip through the notebook in your hand instead, trying to calm the shaking of your hands. ice hockey is a contact sport and you cannot protect the players from every single collision, but that last body check that hongjoong had been unprepared for still has acid pooling into your mouth. you scratch the score â4-5â onto a page filled with their scores from this season thus far. a quick calculation tells you that the red devils have just as many losses as they have wins, which in all honesty, is not looking good.
thisâŠconflict needs to be cleared with the teamâwith hongjoong. you cannot let this concealment of tactics and blatant changing of strategies right in your face continue any longer, because at the rate they are going, they may not even make it into the playoffs. and as you make eye contact with san, who has been staring despondently at the puck that still lies in his goal, you know that you must clear the air for the team, too. the last thing you need is for their own teamwork to fall apart because their differing opinions on your coaching starts to drive a wedge between them.
san stills when you break your gaze and glance away to pivot on your heels in the direction of the changerooms. from the way your mouth thins and neck becomes rigid, he is quite certain you are not happyâand rightfully so, san must admit. he stalls time by slipping off his bulky gloves and freeing his hands up to remove his helmet and mouthguard too.
noting that the other boys have grabbed most of their belongings, san heads off first to meet you, knowing that they will follow him soon after. he walks down the corridor easily balancing on his skates and rounds the corner to their locker room. except the sight that greets him has his feet halting and taking a step back behind the doorway.
your hand is deep in one of their bags. san is unsure whose bag it is, but the brief glimpse of the black canvas bag he caught is enough to tell him that it is one of theirs. although he is not making any accusations, he also cannot think of a reason as to why you would be rummaging through their bags.
âwhy are you just standing there?â
jonghoâs voice startles him and he mumbles, ânothing,â before stepping through the door with the rest of his team. you are sitting on a bench in front of an empty locker now and if he did not know better, san would think that he had imagined the last minute. he glances discreetly at the bag you had been poking through and recognises it as wooyoungâs.
gingerly seating himself in front of his own locker, san waits on edge as mingi also grasps the atmosphere and sits too. gradually, the boys read the room with tactful glances and linger on their feet or on the benches. all except for one.
âwhat was that?â you cut through the silence with a directed question at hongjoong.
the captain continues to toss his gloves into his unzipped bag at the bottom of his locker before proceeding to unlace his skates, not once turning to look at you.
âwhat was what?â
you know fully well that he is aware of what you are talking about but you decide to humour him as you elaborate, âthat last faceoff. i clearly told you to play defensively, but you went against it to try for a goal. and let me guess, you told the others to ignore what i said.â
âand so what if i did?â hongjoong challenges. yeosangâs wide eyes dart from side to side and yunho watches on uneasily as his captain finally turns to glare at you. âin that momentâas a player on the rinkâi saw the opportunity and took it. if there is a chance to attack, then my team takes it. we donât run away like cowards.â
the successive jabs at your athletic retirement cause a lick of phantom heat to wrap around your shoulder. your jaw grinds as you hold yourself back from biting the bait. âthen iâm curious as to what opportunity you saw every time you decided to withhold game tactics from me, or every time you changed the strategy the moment you and your team stepped foot onto the rink.â
âmaybe we would respect and listen to your coaching if it actually suited the playing style of our team. heavy defence may have worked for the grey eagles, but i think you need to reevaluate your abilities as a coach because it seems like you are forgetting that we are not them. forcing us to play defensively like your past team is not going to work for shit, coach,â hongjoong mocks.
you scoff to the side, questioning your own ears. it borders on a laugh, because that is his reason? you have been adjusting their playing style not only based on the situation that arises each game, but in general for their own good. earning his respect be damned, you will not stand for this.
you return the same scornful tone, âwell then, captain, considering you just lost the fucking match because you were too arrogant to defend for twelve fucking seconds, i think you should also reevaluate yourself. are you acting in the best interest of your team, or are you acting in the way that best strokes your own ego? and let me remind youâif you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you.
âif you do not have the decency to at least tell me what you have discussed with the boys so that i can adjust the plays accordingly, then i think the shit results of your games so far speak for themselves. teams have a coach for a reason whether you like it or notâŠor maybe i should say, whether you trust them or not,â you snap.
running your stressed fingers through your hair, you tear your eyes away from hongjoongâs defiant eyes. the two youngest avoid your gaze, whereas yunho and yeosang simply stare at you with their jaws slack at a loss for words. the fire within you almost quenches when your eyes skim over san, mingi and even seonghwa, who are fiddling with their jerseys with guilt.
the room suddenly feels too small and too stuffy. âchange. the bus will be waiting outside,â you mumble, then you leave without a further word.
nobody in the room moves in the wake of the argument, not even hongjoong, who continues to bore holes in the doorway that you have just disappeared through. yunhoâs eyes awkwardly dart back and forth between hongjoong and the other boys before they land on the bench you had been sitting on.
the notebook you are always holding is still there, left behind in your haste to leave. he stands up to grab it, turning on his heels to chase after you when the open pages catch his eye. âwoah,â yunho breathes out, double-taking and bringing the notebook closer towards him to read the contents. âthis is insane.â
you have marked down not only their score for every single game they have played this season, but you have also tracked the statistics of who has scored, assisted, or successfully defended a shot. yunho flips back through the pages as the other boys come to crowd around him. there are logs of their major games from the past five years, diagrams of their faceoff plays and formations, analyses of their strengths in games won and similarly, analyses of their weaknesses in games they have lost.
âoh, fuck,â mingi curses when yunho flips to the more recent pages and they see that you have compiled the same details and information, only more concisely, for every single opponent team the red devils have played against this season. there is no way of seeing thisâhours upon hours of hard workâand still questioning your intentions as their coach. âi think we owe coach a huge fuckinâ apology.â
hongjoong immediately furrows his eyebrows with displeasure. âare you taking her side, mingi?â
âcaptain,â mingi deliberately calls. it is at times like this where being the only logical thinker in the team has its merits. it may be harsh, but mingi must draw the line between their professional and personal life. this dispute must stay strictly within the bounds of their career without blurring the lines over into their romantic involvement with one another, otherwise things could get messy real fast.
mingi stares at the captain as he reasons, âthis isnât about taking sides. from a solely rational point of view, i think it may have been better for us to play safe and defend like coach had suggested.â
from beside him, san nods in agreement. mingi continues, âand iâm not just talking about todayâthere were a lot of times when coachâs plays might have worked out better than bulldozing ahead with offence. yeah, weâve won a few games but weâve also lost just as many. how many of those could we have won if we had trusted coach?â
yunho backs him up whilst gesturing vaguely between the both of them and san, âitâs easier for the three of us to see from defence, but their forwards were already close to intercepting our faceoffs quite a few times that game.â
hongjoongâs immediate thought is to defend himself, because he is their captain and their centre forward; the one who leads them into opportunities to score and win. he knows that every single time he chooses an aggressive play, it is at the risk of weaker defence. the odds have never deterred him, though, because he has always been confident in his abilitiesâin his teamâs abilities.
but if, even now with the palpable experience of losing because of his own decision, it still does not deter him from taking risks in a situation where offence may be his downfall, then is he confidentâŠor overconfident?
it is quiet for a moment. hongjoong swallows the urge to justify against their opinionsâagainst your opinionsâinstead looking around at his team. he meets jonghoâs round eyes and he remembers one of the very reasons why he is so committed to leading the red devils to the gold trophy. why, if he is becoming a hurdle instead to their victory, then he needs to change. âwhat does everybody else think? seonghwa?â
âweâve been wary of y/n all this time, but the more games we play and especially afterâŠâ the alternate captain vaguely gestures in the air, â...today, we should really work with her instead of relying on ourselves. weâve seen her notebook, too, and i think thatâs more than enough for us to see that the effort and resolve she places in our team is genuine. we need to acknowledge that and apologise.â
ânot even coach cho went to these lengths, and most definitely not coach yeon,â yeosang shrugs as he offhandedly comments.
spurred on by everybody else, san carefully voices the thought that has been lingering on his mind, âi think itâs time to tell her the truth. we owe her that much.â
the truth. the wounds that not even coach cho knows of.
hongjoongâs distrust in you may have initially been true to his desire to protect his boys from something like that from happening again. but he is now realising that you may have seen right through him. perhaps at some point in time, it became unwillingness to trust you, blinded by his prideful title as the demon king of the ice rink but at the expense of his team under the guise of wanting to safeguard them.
exhaling shakily, voice thick with regret, hongjoong accepts, âiâve let you all down, havenât i?â
âno,â yunho gently rebukes. âletting us down would be refusing to listen to us. we trust you for a reason, hongjoong.â
not just as a captain, but as everything else too.
seonghwa wraps an arm comfortingly around him. with hongjoongâs demonic presence on the ice once he is in the zone, it is easy to forget that he actually has a shorter stature than all of them. âthatâs right, we trust you,â seonghwa affirms. âthe next step is for us to trust our coach as well. weâre a team, but it isnât complete without our coach.â
âand this apology isnât yours alone to bear,â yunho reminds. âlike seonghwa said, weâre a team and we all have fault in our behaviour towards y/n. if iâm honest, i had a shitty attitude and gave her a hard time at the start too,â he admits, wincing at the memory.
yunho is not the only one who grimaces as they reflect on their own actionsâwhether they happened when you were first introduced to the team, during your first training together, or even up until todayâs game. but wooyoung, who has been quiet throughout the entire ordeal, still has a niggling doubt: one that is most personal to him in comparison to the rest of the team.
wooyoung reveals his thoughts, âbut what about her choice to stop playing? i still canât think of a good reason that i can respect her for having retired.â
âthen we ask her,â mingi proposes.
jongho nods, also curious to know whether there is more to your decision than you have let on. âtoday, though? we donât really want to come off as accusatory or anything. it might be good to give her some space today.â
âwhatâs our schedule looking like tomorrow? training?â
everyone looks at seonghwa, the most likely person to know their schedule off by heart. he does, and he scratches his head as he recalls, âno, recovery day. low-intensity cardio in the morning andâŠa team meeting with coach in the afternoon.â
âtomorrow it is, then,â hongjoong concludes. there are hums of agreement and the decision appears to appease wooyoung enough for the boys to start dispersing, heading to their lockers to finally start changing out of their gear.
wooyoung tosses his helmet and gloves onto the bench in front of his locker before sitting with a sharp but discreet inhale. he carefully loosens the laces on his skates, easing the left one off his foot slowly. the relief is immediate and his fingertips gingerly touch the throbbing area around his ankle. it is not too swollen, but he will need to ice it when they get back to their apartment and he will definitely need to buy more tape.
he sheds off the rest of his gear and uniform, leaving them on the bench too to air out while he takes a quick shower. as he roughly towels his wet hair afterwards, he drags his kit bag further out to make it easier to toss everything in.
âhuh?â wooyoung makes a noise of confusion when he unzips the bag, hand immediately reaching in to grab the item that has caught his eye. it is partially covered by his hoodie but he would be able to recognise the packaging anywhere.
âwhatâs wrong?â san asks, glancing over.
the younger brandishes the brand new roll of strapping tape he has found in his bag, the frown etched across his face slowly relaxing into amused exasperation as he reasons, âi must not have seen this in my bag all along.â
san is about to snort and make fun of his inattentiveness, but a sudden thought stuns the smile off his face. it was not that wooyoung had managed to miss the spare roll in his bag. it wasâ
ây/n,â he quietly exhales with realisation.
at wooyoungâs questioning what?, san looks at him with upturned eyebrows. âthe tapeâcoach was the one who put it in your bag, right before we all walked in here.â
âthisâŠshe gave it to me?â wooyoungâs face drops, remorse evident in the thickness of his voice. âbut why?â
san gently squeezes his shoulder with a smile, simply answering, âbecause sheâs our coach.â he turns to zip up his own kit bag and leaves wooyoung to digest the revelation. the boy is quiet for the rest of the time, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he stares ahead and absentmindedly follows the rest of his team out of the locker room.
when they exit the ice arena, they do not expect to see you. and yet, there you stand beside their bus waiting stonily with your jacket zipped up and hands in your pockets. you mentally count them off without acknowledging them as they start to store their kit bags under the bus and board. yeosang gets on first, taking a seat near the front of the bus as usual. he watches from the window as you wait for the rest of the boys.
you follow jongho up the stairs, the last to load his kit bag, and tell the driver that you are all good to leave. yeosang sits a little straighter as he tucks his small backpack further under the seat in front of him with his feet, having left the seat beside him empty. but before he can open his mouth with an offer of a seat, you have already sat right behind the driver. yeosang leans back into the cushions of his seat, unfamiliar with the sense of disappointment he feels.
the ride back from the competition venueâmuch less after a lost gameâis always quiet, players both physically and mentally exhausted from the strain. this time, though, it is strikingly silent, but you appreciate itâneed it.
you stare out of the window as the trees flicker past like a repetitive motion film. most of their leaves have already fallen off, littering the ground in a blur of tragic glory. and with the beginning of winter, the trees will soon become completely bare, bringing about the period of time when there is nothing but bleak emptiness.
winter, 2019: regular season
â2019 ice hockey rookie stars tournament: team standingsâ
hongjoong stares at the printed piece of paper with seonghwa at his side, where the results of all the teamâs round-robin games have been taped up onto the walls of the stadium. hongjoong does not even bother reading from the top, eyes going straight down to the bottom of the page instead.
the red devils are dead last, having lost every single one of their matches. even the korean penguins, who had nil wins either, had managed to beat them earlier today, ranking them at the lowest of all teams. it is fucking humiliating and hongjoong hates that the sport that had brought him and his boys all together, that they had immeasurable love for, is now one that fills them with shame and indignity.
nobody else but the two captains of the team have decided to look at the rankings. they had all already known towards the end of the regular season that they would not stand a chance at making it into the playoffs. and yet, hongjoong and seonghwa need to see the results for themselves. it is almost masochistic, forcing themselves to look at the fruitless results of their hard work in their first competition that has so devastatingly crushed their morality.
seonghwa picks at his cuticles fretfully and wonders whether he made the wrong decision to give up his education in pursuit of becoming an athlete. he thinks of his parents, who had encouraged him with supportive smiles and offers of financial support the moment he brought up the ideaâwas it all in vain?
âare you two done looking?â
both of the boys turn at the question to find a captain with his team waiting to look at the standings.
âyeah, sorry,â hongjoong mumbles before stepping aside to yield his spot. the players swarm forwards and he is pushed further back away from the list like a physical representation of his distance from the playoffs.
somebody from the other team yells, âwe made it! weâre in the playoffs!â and they simultaneously break out into cries and cheers as they celebrate together.
hongjoong watches on bitterly, wishing with every cell in his body that that was him and his boys. how is he going to walk back into the locker room as their captain when all of his boys have eyes that are rimmed red and cheeks that are blotchy from despairâwhen there are captains like that who have successfully led their team to at least a chance at winning the competition.
the feeling of a pinky slowly hooking around his own draws hongjoong out of his pain. âletâs go back,â seonghwa murmurs, tugging him away from the still-celebrating team. together, both of them start to walk back through the hallways to their locker room.Â
âarenât we down here?â seonghwa questions, standing at the t-intersection that hongjoong has absentmindedly walked straight past.
âoh, yeah. sorry,â hongjoong apologises and begins to backtrack. his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a voice. âwait, doesnât that sound like coach?â
before seonghwa can respond, hongjoong has turned around yet again towards the voice in search of their coach. seonghwa hurries to catch up and that is when he hears it too.
âhave you transferred the money?â
âyes, i wired you the remaining amount the moment we won,â a deeper, unrecognisable voice reassures.
hongjoongâs footsteps falter, brows knitting together and head cocking to one side. he gestures for seonghwa to slow down, pressing a finger on his other hand to his lips. both of them creep forward silently.
the unfamiliar voice probes, âyour teamâyouâre sure they donât suspect anything?â
hongjoong and seonghwa do not need to see him to confirm their suspicions when they hear the unmistakable laughter of coach yeon. through the gravelly sound, he mocks, âthey have no fucking clue even though theyâve lost every single one of their games. theyâre dumber than fucking sheep. their captain tells me everything about their plays and strategies and they never question it when i change things around.â
seonghwa clutches the back of hongjoongâs jersey with a death grip, knowing that without it, his captain will punch coach yeonâs face into a bloody mess. but as much as their coach deserves it, it is not worth the disciplinary action that will inevitably follow, likely suspension, becauseâ
âplus, even if they do somehow find out, what can they do about it? bullshit, thatâs what. they have no evidence and theyâre not going to risk blowing this up and ruining their own careers instead,â coach yeon boasts smugly. âlosing like that as a rookie group in their first year out is completely normal. no one will believe them, and no coach is going to want their team after that because of their âshitty sportsmanshipâ or out of fear of being accused in the same way if they lose again.â
at coach yeonâs words, seonghwa scrambles to put them into context with his dread-riddled mind. the echoing pounding in his ears tells him that he has just heard something that was never meant to be known. he does not even notice that the voices start to grow distant as the two men begin to walk off, but hongjoong does.
the trembling grip that is still on the back of his jersey grounds hongjoong enough not to throw everything away and sprint up to coach yeon with vile words and heated fists, but he also cannot do nothing. hongjoong peers around the corner before seonghwa can counteract his movement, desperate to identify who exactly coach yeon is talking to. except the revelation has him reeling, hands white from how hard his fingers dig into his palmâa stark contrast to the deep scarlet of flames that leap forth from his murderous eyes.
because the person who is walking beside coach yeon is the coach of the korean penguins. hongjoong and his boys have not been losing because of their skills they believed to be fucking shitâcoach yeon has been fucking ensuring they lose.
for money.
winter, present: regular season
you stand on the balcony of your apartment. the sliding glass doors are shut behind you to keep the heat trapped inside, but for now you welcome the refreshing cold of the winter chill as you simply observe.
below on the streets, the miniature specks of people and cars mill around as if you are watching a game simulation. it is strangely humbling to think that each and every one of the people you see are living their own lives, completely distinct to yours with different yet very real problems of their own, but in the grand scheme of the cosmos, you are all insignificant.
you wonder what concern the people holding their coffee are plagued with right now; what problem the people crossing the street are facing. you wonder, if you were to tell them of your worries and they were to tell you of theirs, would you curse or thank the heavens?
the phone in your hand buzzes. you look to see if it is from coach cho and manage a small smile of relief when the notification is indeed from him.
apologies y/n, i was busy earlier. i can call now if you still need me?
you send an affirmative reply, then slide to answer the call that comes through. âhi coach, sorry to bother you.â
âno, youâre alright. is everything okay?â
you hesitate before revealing, â...i messed things up with the boys.â
âthe team?â his voice goes gentle, fatherly nature extending to you too. âwhat happened?â
âhongjoong and i had an argument today after the game because he keeps changing the teamâs plays without letting me know, or even after weâve agreed on something else. it was only meant to be a talk, but then things escalated and we ended up fighting. i justâi donât know what you saw in me, coach, because i donât think iâm fit for the boys,â you ramble. âtheyâre not listening to me, they probably donât even like me, and weâre going terribly with the season.â
you take a breath as you timidly admit, âi donât think weâre going to make it into the playoffs and itâs going to be my fault.â
âhey,â coach cho grounds you, âmaking the playoffs would be great, yes, but the reality is that most teams donât. and youâre still very young yourselfâthis is your, whatâŠfifth year of coaching?â
throat too sticky to formulate a response, you simply hum.
âwhen i first started coaching, i was older than you and it was still a steep learning curve during my first ten years. i believed that coaches deserved the utmost respect and that my opinion was final. theyâre my players, so of course i should be the one laying down the laws,â he chuckles. âbut growing up was realising that whilst the respect is still there, it needs to be mutual. coaching a team is not a hierarchy of âi command, you listenâ, but a show of leadership with the captain at the front of the teamânot on top of them.â
his words strike a chord within you. coaching the boys was frustrating because they were not listening to you. but it should never have been a case of who listens to whoâit should always have been a reciprocated relationship of everyone listening to one other.
as if he can physically feel the guilt that is starting to settle in the pit of your stomach, coach cho draws your attention to something else. âremember what i told you when we met the team for the first time? why i chose you specifically?â
âbecause of our similar playing styles?â you recall.
âexactly,â he confirms, âyou know best the strategies and plays that work, and what their strengths and weaknesses are, because they were also your own. you need to be a coach to their playing style, not the other way aroundâthey shouldnât be a player to your coaching style.â
you cannot help but worry, âwhat if they get injured?â
ây/n, this is where your similarities can either be your biggest flaw or your greatest asset as a coach. no matter how safely they play, there will always be a risk of injury. that is just how the sport works and you know that the best. you can teach them to assess the risk and pull back if they really need to, but ultimately, there is no way of eliminating the risk completely.â coach cho pauses, then asks, âif you could meet your younger self, would you make yourself change your playing style?â
would you? as you imagine what you would tell your past self if you had the chance to, you find that you do not have an answer. perhaps for the sake of a prolonged career, you would. but then would it be your passion and skills that are playing the game, or your fears and worries?
if you cannot come to a decision even for yourself, then it is completely unfair for you to restrain the boys within the cages of what you view as safety for their own good. harnessing the defensive skills may have been functional for the grey eagles, but like hongjoong said, you are coaching the red devils now and it is not working for them. you must come to terms that you cannot protect the boys at every opportunityâconsciously or unconsciouslyâyou need to be a coach to them.
coach cho, aware that you have come to a conclusion, asks you one final question, âhave you told the boys why you retired?â
âno, not yet,â you shake your head. you already have an idea of what he is going to say to you next.
âi think itâs time for you to tell them,â he advises. âremember, y/n, sometimes you need to be vulnerable with them first before you can make things right.â
after coach cho ends the call, you do not make a move to go back inside the apartment. you stay standing on your balcony, arms folded as you lean against the handrail listening to the faint rumble of traffic and hustle of busy activity. life goes on, and so will yours; you just have to make it count.
the trees on the streets may be stripped bare and lonely throughout winter, but eventually you learn to appreciate its nothingness. it is a necessity in order to start afresh.
mingi stares at the blinking cursor that sits in the open search bar. it has been empty for the last twenty minutes since he started up his laptop, wondering whether it would be an invasion of privacy for him to look you up on the internet.
he makes up his mind. he knows that he was the one to tell wooyoung only mere hours ago that they would ask you about your decision to retire tomorrow at the meeting, but mingi supposes it would not hurt to simply see what sort of athlete you were like before.
typing your full name into the search engine, mingi hits âenterâ and waits for the results to appear. he combs through the first several links quickly. they all have the same information; ice hockey databases and websites that detail your age, nationality, physical stats and position, but the sections that usually list your team and agency are now blank.
mingi is surprised to learn you were also a centre forward. he scrolls down to your game logs and match statistics that span from 2014 to 2019. you have won an impressive number of championships, most notably the under-18 and under-21 womenâs ice hockey league. they are both international competitions and mingi is not sure how your reputation has flown under all of their radars.
frowning, he goes back to the search engine and clicks on the next page in an attempt to find more information. it is not until he clicks yet again to the next page that he finds a low-reputed news article from almost eight years ago where you are the main subject.
ây/n l/n, youngest player of âblack catsâ, wins ice hockey championship at the age of sixteenâ the headline reads. there is not much to the article, but it outlines your admirable achievement at your young age as a rising prodigy in the ice hockey scene. mingi agrees, since he knows that you also go on to win another international competition a few years after that. just as he is about to close the tab, there is a recommended link that catches his eye.
he hovers his cursor over it. the hyperlinked headline does not explicitly say your name, but the phrasing really only alludes to one athlete considering it is a recommended link on your article. mingi does not know whether he wants to click on it, though, because he is afraid of confirming it is you.
and if it isâŠthen the others will also need to see this too.
âhongjoong, guys, come look at this,â mingi calls out, balancing his laptop on his forearm as he walks out into the open living room. the others look up from where they are sitting or emerge from out of their rooms at his summon.
âwhatâs this?â hongjoong reaches out to receive the laptop and places it on the table. his eyes skim the screen, trying to make sense of what mingi is showing them.
mingi points to the hyperlink he had been mulling over. âi think we need to look at this.â
solemnity washes over the boys as their curious gazes dull and darken, realisation of what exactly they are reading dawning upon them. all at once, their hearts clench in solidarity. hongjoong clicks on the link. the only sound that permeates the silence is the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall. nobody talks. nobody moves.
ice hockey star announces retirement following shoulder injury june 18, 2019 star player y/n l/n, centre forward of the âblack catsâ, has announced her retirement from professional ice hockey today. her decision follows lingering issues after suffering from a rotator cuff tear during the grand finals of this yearâs under-21 womenâs ice hockey league. l/n has been under the ice hockey spotlight ever since her win in the under-18âs league as the youngest player on her team. she is well-known for her offensive threat to the opponents, bold playing style and unparalleled skill breaking through the lines of defence. during the grand finals in april, l/n was body checked from the side by âpolar bearsââ kim hyejin. although full-body checking is illegal in womenâs hockey, it is not uncommon during the heat of competitions. l/n suffered a severe right rotator cuff tear and is reported to have received open surgery last month. l/n did not provide further details about her recovery, however stated that she plans to focus on her physical rehabilitation in the meantime.
the glare of the screen stares back at the boys as they finally understand exactly why you had retired and why you had come back as a coachâyou were unable to fully step away from the sport you so loved with your entire life.
âcoach wasnât telling us to play defensively at all the crucial times just for the sake of the game strategyâŠâ seonghwa grasps.
â...but because she didnât want the same thing to happen to us,â hongjoong finishes. one of your heated remarks during your argument with him suddenly resounds in his mind: and let me remind youâif you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you. you had been reliving your own demons every single time hongjoong and his boys were playing aggressively on the ice. âfuck,â he mutters.
mingi leans down a little. âwait, see if there are any other articles about this.â
fingers dancing across the keyboard, hongjoong opens up a new tab. another quick search of your name with the keywords âinjuryâ and âretirementâ yields no further articles. mingi is certain you would have had more media coverage considering you had suffered an injury at the rising peak of your prodigious career, so he finds it strange that there is close to no information about this.
âit almost looks as if somebody had the articles purged from the internet,â mingi observes.
jongho nods with furrowed brows, âmaybe y/n? but why would she go to the length to remove them?â
âi mean, wooyoung didnât exactly go around flaunting off his injury to the media. maybe she didnât want the attention anymore,â yeosang guesses.
yunho nudges wooyoung playfully as he comments, âno offence to you, but none of us are exactly famous enough for the media to take interest in our injuries.â
âi think the real question is why coach didnât tell us that her injury was the reason why she stopped playing,â seonghwa wonders, âit was never really a choice like she made it out to be.â
none of them know the answer. hongjoong slowly closes the laptop, exhaling deeply, âweâve got a lot of things to clear up tomorrowâŠand a lot of apologising. iâm going to sleep early. you all should too.â
with that, he gets out of his seat and disappears into his bedroom. hongjoongâs mind is heavy and crowded and he knows he is going to be awake for a while.
nobody sleeps well that night. especially wooyoung.
spring, 2023: playoffs
âwhat do you mean i canât compete in the playoffs?â
âyou have a fractured ankle, wooyoung. the playoffs are honestly the least of your concerns and if you keep straining yourself like this, it wonât just be the playoffs that you canât compete inâitâll be the rest of your life,â coach cho admonishes.
âbut this is our first proper championship, coach,â wooyoung begs, âyou have to let me play.â
coach cho hates that he has to say no and if he could swap ankles with his player, he would do so in a heartbeat. âthis isnât a choice. you physically cannot play. what are you going to do out there on the ice? crawl?â
âfuck, coach, you donât understand. it was so hard for us to get to this point. this means everything to me, fuck, please,â wooyoung pleads between heaving breaths.
âiâm sorry, wooyoung,â coach cho apologises, leaving no further room for argument as the other boys divert their gazes to the floor.
hongjoong gently squeezes wooyoungâs shoulder. âthe doctor said that your cast can come off in about eight weeks and if itâs looking good, you can gradually join in on any light training when itâs off-season.â
wooyoung does not care because in eight weekâs time the playoffs will already be over. he knows he is being unreasonable and that there is no chance he will be able to set foot in an ice rink within the next two months. but his heart and mind are operating separately and the only thing his heart can see is the opportunity of playing in the championships slipping right out of his grasp.
he is already angry at himself for getting injured in the first place but it is not enough to quell wooyoungâs raging inferno. so he does the only thing he can think of in the momentâhe spits out his anger with a venomous, âi hate you all.â
it hurts the boys more to see wooyoung hurting and coach cho speaks up on their behalf, âi would rather you hate us now than for you to hate yourself in the future because you traded decades of your career for this one playoff.â
wooyoung jerks his head away defiantly, but they know he is only trying to hide his tears. unable to watch any longer, san moves in closer and pulls the younger into his arms.
âfuck off, san. i donât need you.â
san swallows the hurt in his chest because he knows there is no truth behind wooyoungâs words. âi know you donât,â he offers, âbut i need you. so just let me stay.â
wooyoungâs body sags as all of the fight slips out of him in the form of shuddering sobs. san embraces him tightly, as if he has picked up all the pieces of the other and only a hug can make him whole again.
âiâm sorry,â wooyoung chokes out.
san shakes his head with reassuring hushes, âdonât be. you focus on recovering and weâll take it from here.â
like that, wooyoungâs anger is quenched and the team goes on to compete in the playoffs without him. but in the absence of anger comes other emotions, jealousy and insecurity the ugliest of them all. wooyoung despises the bitter taste in his mouth as he sits on the playerâs bench outside of the rink each game, only able to helplessly watch his team advance further in the playoffs without him.
and as much as wooyoung wants them to win, he also does not want them to win, because if they can win the championships without him playing as their left wing, then do they really need him at all? he never gets to find out the answer though. they lose in the quarter finals.
wooyoung does not tell anybody about the ill relief he feelsâŠand he vows to take that secret with him to the grave.
winter, present: regular season
the moment you walk into kqâs meeting room, a rehearsed apology for the team on the tip of your tongue, you realise that something is off. not necessarily wrong, per se; just off.
all the boys are sitting around the table as usual, though the overhead projector that is routinely already set up with video footage of their recent games has been put on standby mode. but the thing that unconsciously makes your hackles rise is the expression they all nurse on their faces, strangely familiar yet foreign at the same time. it is familiar in the sense that people have looked at you this way in the past, but it is foreign in the sense that it has never come from the boys before.
âhi, coach,â hongjoong clears his throat awkwardly, opting to look at the wall behind you instead of your eyes as if even he knows this is the first time he has ever addressed you as such. âwe had aâŠtalk last night and thought we should probably clear up a few things before we discuss the actual games.â
although you share the same sentiment as they do, hongjoongâs words put you on guard. gingerly, you lower yourself into an empty seat across from him. âi also have a couple of things to say, but you guys start,â you cue.
hongjoong glances at seonghwa beside him, who in turn gives him a miniscule shrug. neither of them know how to bring it up with you as they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. thankfully, mingi steps in, not one to beat around the bush.
âwhy didnât you tell us about your injury?â he asks directly.
with mingiâs question, you are suddenly able to place their expression. the boys look at you warily as if you are a wounded animal they are afraid will run away. you loathed the expression years ago when it was from your coach, your teammates and your familyâthe constant treading on eggshells around you with pitying eyesâand you still loathe it just as much as you do now.
your prickles emerge and your instinctive reaction is to deny it. you have kept your injury a secret up until now for a reason and the unexpected confrontation has all of your sirens blaring to keep it a secret. but then you remember coach choâs adviceâyou remember the apology you had mulled over all nightâand you force your prickles to retract.
you take a breath. coach cho would not have told them about your injury, so there is only one way the boys could have found out about it. âyou read the articles, didnât you?â
mingi at least has the decency to look sheepish as he admits, âoneâŠbut there werenât any others.â
âi thought as much,â you mumble to yourself, smiling tightly. you choose not to think about how they came across the article. âi wanted them all removed and my agency managed to pull enough connections to sweep the articles under the rug, but i should have known that in this day and age it would be impossible to get rid of any media completely.â
the question remains as to why you have chosen to keep this hidden and alsoâ
âwhy did you want them removed, though?â hongjoong furrows his brows.
you have faced countless demons in the last six years. the injury itself, the abrupt end to your golden days, and the forced reconciliation with the fact that you will never be able to play again. and yet, the demon that continues to haunt you to this day is the media spotlight that chases after you as if you are a circus animal.
you are unable to look at any of them in the eye as you finally bare yourself open to the boys. âthe articles felt belittling and shamefulâthey still do. they made me feel less as an athlete then and they make me feel less as a coach now. i worked my heart and soul to get to where i was with the skills that i had, but you donât understand just how crippling it is for all of that to be overshadowed by an injury. it was no longer a celebration of my achievements, simply because nobody cared anymore. it just became a fucking broken record of, âhow does it feel to have fallen at the peak of your career?â
âthen when i became a coach, it didnât matter how well my team performed or how hard they worked to win the championships. the question became, âhow does it feel to coach after being forced to retire because of your injury?â no matter how hard i tried, i just could not escape the hellhole of my injury.â
guilt settles in the pit of mingiâs stomach as it also does for the others. they may not have written the article, but by consuming it and searching for more, they had unknowingly joined the faceless masses of those who had hurt you.
you dig your thumbs into the flesh of your thighs to stop your voice from shaking as you continue, âthe media will not care for the achievements that myself or my players accomplish when there is something even betterâa sob story. but i do not need that kind of pity. not from athletes, not from other coaches, and most definitely not from strangers silently pitying my life from behind their newspaper or screen when i did not ask for any of it. i made people forget and i kept this all hidden because my career, be it as a coach or a former athlete, does not deserve to be reduced to that kind of shit.â
the raw honesty behind your words strikes the boys silent. what they thought they had started to understand about you, they are now realising was barely the tip of the iceberg. seonghwa wonders for just how long you have left this wound bleeding and untreated. he calls out for you sadly, âcoach, you shouldâve told us.â
when you look up, you are surprised to find wetness brimming his eyes. you feel the hot rush of emotions build up behind your own eyes but from anger, because why is he upset? what reason does he have to cry when you are the one who has suffered all this time?
your voice is biting when you respond, âand have you look down on me like everybody else? i just said, i do not need your pityââ
âitâs not pity,â a voice interrupts firmly. of all people, you least expected it to come from wooyoung. his tone stays unyielding as he holds your gaze. âweâre athletes too, y/n.â
the way he includes you in the collectiveâas an athleteâhas your glare softening immediately, replaced by the dangerous quivering of your bottom lip while he elaborates, albeit voice gentler now, âwe are hurting for youâwith you. it is not pity; it is standing by your side in hopes that we can help you up if you ever fall again.â
because it is okay to fall, and you will fall; wooyoung knows that the best.
you tilt your head upwards as you desperately blink back the tears that suddenly threaten to spill. the swell of emotions that had churned in your chest had not been anger but fatigue, you realise. wooyoungâs words give you sudden clarity that you are tiredâof suffering alone and in silence. you want help.
âiâm tired of hurting,â you confess quietly.
âthen let us share the hurt with you.â
the dam breaks and your tears fall freely down your cheeks. it starts off with a nod so miniscule that the boys think they have imagined it, but then slowly and surely, your head moves up and down with more conviction. âokay,â you whisper.
you had always thought that you had come to terms with your injury and the end of your career, but perhaps you are still mourning your lossâŠand perhaps that is okay. like looking into a time-warped mirror, wooyoung sees the fight slip out of your body with a sob as you apologise, âiâm sorry.â
san wants to cross the room and wrap his arms around you if it can take away even just a fraction of your hurt. but he knows that he cannot cross the boundaries of professionalism despite the intimate nature of the conversation right now, especially when you and the team are only just starting to patch things up. so instead, he opts to rub his thumb over the knuckles of wooyoungâs hand from under the table, which has slipped into his, hoping that one day he will be able to do the same for you.
âwe understand,â hongjoong answers on their behalf, âyou were doing what you needed to do in order to protect yourself.â
and if you do not realise that he says those words for himself and his team to hear too, then you will by the end of the conversation as you walk away with a newfound understanding of them.
âno, not just for that,â you shake your head, roughly swiping at your tears with the back of your hand. âit ended up negatively influencing the way i coached you guys, even if it was subconscious. i let my own trauma dictate how i wanted you to play: defensively all the time whether it was needed or not. hongjoong, you were right about me not coaching your team as your team.â
you try your damned hardest to keep your voice steady so that you can look at them properly to apologise, âiâm sorry i made it so hard to trust me as your coach.â
âokay, let me stop you right there,â yunho smiles gently, sliding a tissue box in your direction. âwe were pricks too, so half the apology is ours.â
âdonât call her a prick,â seonghwa whispers. his horrified expression relaxes when you break out into a wet chuckle.
hongjoong is glad that you are able to find something to laugh about even with your cheeks still damp and blotchy, and he finds his mouth curling into a bittersweet smile. you have been honest and vulnerable with them and now it is their turn.
âwe have something to tell you about our past coach,â he starts, drawing your gaze to him. ânot coach choâour very first coach. weâre not trying to justify that what we did as a result was okay, butâŠâ
âbut hopefully i can understand,â you finish when hongjoong hesitates. he nods and you mirror his action with a reassuring smile to encourage him to talk.
but irregardless of what they tell you, you already know that you want to understand them, because understanding is the first step to forgiving, and you want that too.
so with intermittent comments from the other boys, hongjoong reveals to you the hidden wounds they have been nursing. and as they tell you about coach yeon, how their trust in him had been misplaced, how he had betrayed it for money at the expense of their championship, and how they had then let that become mistrust in you and your reason for retiring, wooyoung finds himself quiet so that he can steal glances at you.
he can see it now. the untameable beast within you of passion for ice hockey that has been forcibly chained down to the ground with the weight of the earth. the devastating torment that must incessantly surge through you in the most debilitating waves, tenfold any anguish he felt when he was unable to compete in the playoffs. the blemished canvas of dark and ghastly emotions that you do not let see the light of day, yet continue to coexist in hidden silence.
it is there and then that wooyoung realises you and him may be more similar than he thoughtâthat you may actually understand him better than any of his seven boys.
you stop the drill.
yeosang gracefully turns in an arc whilst keeping the puck close to his stick as hongjoong and seonghwa dig their skates into the ice to brake before their momentum takes out the younger.
âletâs have jongho try using the perimeter of the rink instead of passing to yeosang this time. start the faceoff again,â you instruct.
the chorus of responses that you receive are zealous, even slightly teasing as the boys lower their voices with a, âyes, coach!â and give you small salutes with their gloved hands. you cannot help but snort and shake your head, waving at them to retake their positions.
practice is short today, since your team has a game tomorrow. the first half an hour consisted of running through offensive formations for power plays and you are now focusing on defensive penalty kills. your two captains and wooyoung are playing as the mock opponents, preparing your remaining wings and defenseman for a situation where they are down a player.
hongjoong seems to mull over a thought as he looks at the formation of his boys. âyou mentioned the team weâre playing against has a tendency to position their forwards higher up, didnât you?â he asks and when you nod, he suggests, âwhat do you think about trying the diamond formation instead? might help close some of their shooting lanes.â
with the captainâs input, you reposition yeosang further up to form the tip of the diamond, and yunho too to cover the right point whilst jongho covers the left. mingi moves in a little closer to the goal to cover the bottom of the diamond and you make sure to point out the importance of his position.
âif the opportunity arises, we can transition into a counterattack instead with 3-1. but weâll need to make sure we still cover the goal in case they turn it back over againâmingi, this will probably be you. support whoever has the puck from behind, but make sure you donât go too far forward.â
mingi answers with an affirmative and yeosang passes the puck to hongjoong for him to commence the penalty kill. at your whistle, the rink explodes into action. wooyoung and seonghwa immediately split down the perimeters to open up shooting lanes for their captain, who passes the puck off to wooyoung the moment he has cleared half the rink. with a brief adjustment of the puckâs angle, he attempts a cross-ice pass to where seonghwa is free on the other side.
with astonishing speed, jongho intercepts the puck and yells, â3-1!â he continues to barrel forward with the momentum of his explosive acceleration towards the goal as yeosang anticipates a pass and yunho joins the counterattack rush to his right. the three of your players charge forwards with adrenaline as mingi covers them from behind. jongho chips the puck over hongjoongâs stick, which is immediately taken up by yeosang. without a goaltender, he finishes it off with an easy shot into the net.
the tempo and execution of the rush surprises not just you, but the boys themselves too, who are tapping their sticks together with elated excitement at the success of the play. it may only be a simulated practice drill, but you still share in the same pride and contentment that hongjoongâs face glows at you with.
he cocks his head to the side with a paired smile and you return the same nonverbal acknowledgement. corners of your lips still lifted up, you gather the boys, âletâs have a drink break.â
as the boys make their way over to the benches, removing their gloves and helmets, you eye the water bottles and make sure you have enoughâfive in the cooler and three on the bench beside it. san bounds up to you after grabbing one from the cooler, bragging, âcoach! did you see the way jongho intercepted that puck?â
from beside him, wooyoung reenacts the moment with wild flails of his limbs and airy whooshes from his mouth, jongho watching with bashful giggles. you indulge in their animated recount and listen intently. âhe was amazingly fast,â you agree.
yeosang passes an opened bottle to wooyoung before untwisting the lid to his own, commenting, âthe ankle weights on top of all the training must be working.â
the boys are not currently wearing any, but you had slowly implemented the use of vests, ankle or wrist weights during specific drills. now that they have taken them off and are playing without the burden of the additional mass, you are all starting to see the gains of their hard work.
you smirk with satisfaction, âof course. if my players are going to bulldoze across the ice, may as well make them fast enough to avoid all the opponents.â
âdonât encourage her,â wooyoung elbows yeosang scandalously. âsheâs going to make us wear heavier weights next practice.â
âyou donât get to complain if you donât even wear the weights,â you quip.
he knows his injury means that he cannot wear the weights in case it places stress on his ankle, so he curses at you with no real heat just for the sake of cursing, âfuck you.â
you wink, âlove you too.â
wooyoung shuts his mouth and scrunches the bridge of his nose with faux displeasure, and jongho laughs at his inability to faze you. you glance down and open your notebook to mention, âon that note, though, how do we feel about going up a few hundred grams next week?â
âiâm fine with that,â yeosang says at the same time jongho confirms, âsounds good.â most of the other boys also nod that they are fine with increasing their weights, save for seonghwa who notifies you that he is still adjusting so he will keep his as it is for now.
you jot down ticks and crosses next to their names corresponding to their answers whilst suggesting, âyunho and mingi, you can both probably try half a kilogram since your body masses are higher.â
said boys peer over your shoulder to see what their new weights would be, then yunho makes a noise of intriguement. âcoach, did you write these?â
you look to where his finger is pointing toâsticky notes upon sticky notes of unorganised observations and reminders to yourself. starting to feel self-conscious, you deny, â...no,â only for yunho to swipe the notebook from out of your grasp. âhey!â
he holds it up and open above him, voice gleeful as he reads one out, ââjongho, wooyoung and yeosang prefer water at room temperature when trainingâtake bottles out of cooler!ââ
âaw, coach,â wooyoung coos, âdid you deliberately leave three bottles in room temperature for us on the bench?â
feeling your ears heat up from being exposed, you swipe at the notebook. your skates give you added height, but so do yunhoâs skates, so your attempts to jump for it are futile.
ââboys want to eat abura soba after their winâ,â he continues to read, pausing to let out a dramatic gasp, âare you going to treat us, coach?â his question is met with enthusiasm.
when another wild swipe sends a sharp sting down your shoulder from the movement, reminding you of the pain that had flared up a few days ago, you decide to change tactics. you grab the back and front of his jersey with your hands, completely ready to commit to scaling him like a literal tree. but then a different set of hands easily takes the notebook out of yunhoâs and of course it would be mingi. you insult, âgive it back, you tall buffoon!â
mingi is hardly fazed as you switch targets to him, your fingertips nowhere near reaching the notebook as he snickers and reads, ââtrial jongho as starting forwardâwait.â he lowers his hands with sobriety and you are finally able to snatch the notebook back, shutting it before they can read any more of your sticky notes. it is not like there is anything they cannot know, but it is sort of embarrassing for them to see how much attention you pay to them.
âyou want jongho on the starting lineup?â mingi confirms that he has not read it wrong, eyes as wide as all the other boys as they look at you.
jongho is almost certain that you must have meant somebody else, or something else, because there is no way that he would be given the opportunity to start for the teamânot when they have yeosang and wooyoung as their wings, and the choice of hongjoong or seonghwa as their centres. he is used to being the player who momentarily relieves others of their shift on the ice, or as his parents so like to remind him, option b.
âwhy do you all look so surprised?â you frown. beckoning at jongho with your chin, you ask, âyouâve been practising hard to make your right hand just as good as your left hand, havenât you? so letâs take advantage of your versatility and unpredictability on ice and throw the opponents off. what do you think?â
jonghoâs mouth opens and shuts, struggling to formulate an answer through his wide beam other than, âiâof course, if youâd let meâif everyone else is happy.â
the pleased smile on hongjoongâs face is enough to make his cheeks sore and he wraps his arm around the youngestâs shoulders. he praises, âlook at you, our wild card and our hidden ace,â as seonghwa declares, âi know heâll do us so proud.â
both yeosang and wooyoung simultaneously offer their positions in the starting lineup and the rest of the boys watch on with fond expressions. they are grateful that you have recognised the talents and hard work of their youngest. although you are not aware, this opportunity holds significance not just in regards to his career.
you conclude, âweâve been on a good streak with our games. letâs ride the momentum and show the other teams what jongho is capable ofâwhat weâre all capable of.â
âyes, coach!â they shout, the loud echo of their voices reverberating and filling the rink with buzzing energy for the remainder of the training session.
spirits still high by the time you call it a wrap, you let them change as you grab your own belongings. there is a team meeting in the afternoon so you and the boys will be going back to kq to eat at the cafeteria and use the booked room. you pause when you see wooyoung loitering by your bag. he still has not changed out of his practice clothes.
âiâm not letting you on the bus if youâre planning on staying in those clothes,â you joke.
âiâm going to change!â he scowls indignantly, then avoids eye contact as he thrusts something out in your direction. he mumbles, âhad some spares. didnât want them. just dumping them with you so you can stash them or use them or whatever, i donât care.â
you grab the small bag, brows creased with confusion, but wooyoung dashes away to change before you can ask what it is. you peer inside and to your pleasant surprise, there are two packs of pain relief patches. your shoulder protests at the lack of attention you have given it in the last few days. the pain is chronic and never really goes away, but it has been bothering you more than usual recently, so it is all in good timing that you now have some patches.
you make a mental note to stick one on when you get to the company and grab your bag after ensuring your notebook is stored inside. as you head towards the change rooms to wait for the boys, you spot a piece of paper on the floor. it looks like rubbish that you must have missed on your way in earlier so you pick it up to throw away. but when your fingertips touch the familiar sheen of the wax-like paper, you realise wooyoung must have dropped it.
it is confirmed when you unfold it to read the text and see that it is from yesterday evening, at the pharmacy that is just across the street from the company; in your hands you hold wooyoungâs receipt for two packs of pain relief patches.
spring marks the start of the playoffs. in synchronisation with the burst of life that blooms with the season, your boys, too, flourish in the league.
the unpredictability of your teamâs strategies that entail a mix of both yours and hongjoongâs prowess helps to secure wins over the remainder of the regular season. despite the unsteady start to the season, it allows your team to scrape into the round of sixteen near the bottom of the standings.
the red devils are seeded against the team that is third in the rankings, and then against the sixth-standing team in the quarterfinals. in upsets that knock out two of the most anticipated teams in the league, your boys advance into the semifinals, their reputation as the demons of the ice rink that had laid low now rapidly spreading.
where none of the other competitors had paid you and your players any mind before, barely even noticing your presence, the opponents now glance and watch your team walk past with an air of confidence through the arena. their tense jaws and hard gazes size up your athletesâformidable rivals who have suddenly barrelled up the ranks from out of nowhere and now pose perhaps the biggest threat as a team that has somehow slipped under their radars.
you know; your team may be small in numbers. but with yunho and mingi flanking the sides of the boys, and even with hongjoongâs charismatic aura alone leading the front, which extends around him like a dark cloud of terror and envelops the rest of the group too, your team is a pack of predators at the tip of the apex.
other players part to make a path for your boys, whose heads are held high and eyes are set only on their captain and you, their coach, as you all walk to your assigned changeroom. the nerves have long dissipated because the ice rink is your territory and the other teams are your prey.
the moment you shut the door behind the last of them into the room though, the icy stare in wooyoungâs eyes melt and he exclaims, âholy shit, did you see the way everybody was looking at us? we must have looked so fucking hot, i wish i could ask for my own signature.â
from their glowing faces alone, you can tell that they are all basking in the feeling of finally being recognised and reckoned with. yunho bats his eyelids and pinches his voice higher into a falsetto, âoh wooyoung! youâre so handsome and cool, could i please have your signature?â
mingi imitates him and pounces on wooyoung, begging for a photo together as he clings onto his elbow. it sets off the rest of the boys to crowd around like mock fans with faux exhilaration. you snort at their antics, leaving wooyoung to sign imaginary sheets of paper with his imaginary pen in favour of ensuring all of their backup equipment and gear is correctly located outside or in the storage area.
you allow the boys adequate time to change into their full gear for their warm-up prior to the actual semifinal game before you walk back into the locker room. your ears perk up when you catch the end of sanâs question, âthatâs good for us, isnât it?â
âwhat is?â you ask out of curiosity, flipping open the provided cooler and adding several sports drinks into the ice.
âi overheard someone on the white tigers team say that their head coach happened to fall sick, so they have their assistant coach today,â jongho mentions.
the surge of brazen smiles and reassured glints in their eyes at the reveal of information makes you falter to a degree. you lightly chastise, âdonât let that get to your heads and start being cockyâplay as you usually do and do not underestimate them just because their head coach is off.â
you pull your notebook out of your bag, the familiar cover and weight of the book providing you with a sense of security as you remind the boys, âthe white tigers have a very similar playing style as us. we may have worked hard on our defensive strategies, but with similar strengths and weaknesses overall, it wonât hurt for us to still be cautious.â
âyes, coach,â they chorus.
hongjoong nods, âletâs go warm up, then finalise our starting lineup for the game.â
your teamâs allocated time on the rink passes by quickly and it is followed by the last adjustments to the discussed strategies and game plan, thorough checks of their gear, and the remaining boys who are still wearing their practice jerseys change out of the blue into their red game uniform. in full gear, there your boys stand, presence intimidating and demoniac. the boys do not live up to their team name; their team name lives up to them.
they stride through the hallway for their semifinal game against the white tigers. right at the end before it leads to the ice rink, yunho yells, âpep talk, captain!â
hongjoong groans, rolling his eyes, but places the blade of his stick onto the rubber flooring nonetheless. the rest of the boys huddle around, their sticks meeting in the centre of the circle and standing close together so that their helmets and shoulders knock against one another. you are also swept into the circle with yeosang and san by your sides.
âboysâŠand girl,â hongjoong snickers to himself before recollecting his very inspirational train of thought, âweâve fought hard to make it this farâthis is the first time weâve made it into the semis, so letâs keep running until the very end, yeah?â
to the teamâs increasingly loud cheers, hongjoong yells, âletâs fuck it up out there!â
their sticks hit the ground in unison and despite the muted sound of the cushioned flooring, their shouts of fighting resolve and unwavering determination drown out everything else. together, you emerge from the hallway and your starting players take their positions on the ice, ready to fuck it up.
only, it happens literally.
the moment the puck hits the ice and the white tigersâ centre forward, byun, wrestles it away with his blade, hongjoong immediately knows it is going to be one of those games. the ones where his competitive grit is fueling his mind ablaze but his body is leaden-footed as if he is wading through quicksand; where his body is just unable to keep up and move the way he wants it to. it is one of those days where his condition is just inexplicably off and there is nothing he can do about it except hope that his years of training and sheer aptitude for the sport will be enough.
âfuck,â you curse under your breath at hongjoongâs slip as jongho and yeosang rush to fall back and support those in defence. âhe wasnât like that during the warm-ups.â
byun is not only agile and swift, but is almost an identical reflection of hongjoongâs own bold and assertive offence. the centre forward powers through with evasive turns around yunhoâs attempt to body check him, unafraid and confident. passing the blue line into your teamâs defensive zone, byun flicks the puck at the goal.
the point shot is an unexceptional attempt to score, nothing that sanâs reflexive goaltending cannot take care of. he extends his left foot and blocks the low shot with his leg pad, where the puck then slides in yunhoâs direction. you did not doubt for a moment that san would not be able to save the shot, but it is still a close call that is far too early in the game to be a good sign.
your teamâs greatest strength is their unspoken synergy and seamless unity, but it is also their greatest weakness. when one player stumbles, particularly when it is their captainâthe very roots of the teamâtheir bond runs so deeply that it throws their teamwork out of harmony and ultimately impacts the entire team.
with sanâs save, yunho regains possession and handles the puck around the back of their net to shake off the pressure that the white tigersâ forwards are placing on him, as well as to buy his own team some time to reassemble in their formation.
you know that this is not going to work for long; you have to change the momentum of the game, and fast. âseonghwa, get ready,â you alert. âyouâre going on for hongjoong.â
the alternate captain stands, alarmed at the unexpected line change so early into the game. he grips his stick with white knuckles and watches his team as he waits for your cue. yunho hits the puck against the boards where yeosang successfully receives the rebound.
âbreakout!â yeosang yells and rushes forward with the chasing skates of the opponents nipping at his heels. jongho clears the centre line into the offensive zone at the same time hongjoong screens and blocks the view of the white tigersâ goaltender, setting up for an opportunity to score.
when the opponentâs left defence and wing advance on yeosang rapidly, he fakes a deceptive pass towards the boards before twisting the blade of his stick and flicking the puck between their skates instead in hongjoongâs direction. but like an eagle honing in on a small rodent, byun swoops in to snatch the puck, flipping the possession again.
the tides turn and all the athletes on the rink race towards your teamâs net, a cutthroat competition between triumph and desperation to chase the puck. byun passes to the player on his left as they both dash closer, the left forward immediately returning the puck the moment he receives it to break past mingiâs defence.
you are able to see the white tigersâ right wing following closely behind ready for a drop pass, but in your teamâs frenzied minds, they are unable to read the play. yunho approaches byun, who is expecting the defence and leaves the puck behind whilst skating on, knowing that it will be received by his trailing teammate. with the momentary confusion that is enough to disrupt both yunho and sanâs gaze on the puck, the opponentâs right wing winds his stick back just enough to build power without sacrificing speed, then slaps the puck into the corner of the goalâ
âand scores. within the first three minutes of the game.
âseonghwa,â you call out again with urgency as the whistle blows. you turn to look at him, âyouâre up. you have to break the flow of the team. not just the white tigers, but ours tooâthe boys are panicking and you need to help anchor them.â
he nods, steadying his hand on the board in preparation to hop over it, and you yell out for the captain, âchange!â
hongjoong sees the gesture of your hand pointing at the bench, and although his chest tightens with frustration at himself, he speeds towards the edge of the rink to change. once the captain is close enough, seonghwa pushes his skate off the benches to launch himself over the top of the boards onto the ice then propels himself forward to take the centre faceoff.
the captain sits down heavily on the bench, defeat already broiling off of his slumped body in smothering swells. you really cannot afford to take your eyes off the game; it waits for nobody and the whistle has already blown, the rink erupting into commotion. but whilst you need to watch the game unfold, you need hongjoong just as much, and his team needs him.
you turn him slightly to face you so that he can see your face of resolution. âyou are the captain, so be the captainâfor the teamâŠand for yourself,â you invigorate, voice raised so that he can hear you over the noise of the stadium.Â
you give his shoulder a hard squeeze, certain he will not be able to even feel it from under the pads of his uniform. regardless, he understands your intentions and nods grimly, the fog in his eyes clearing. wooyoung taps the back of his helmet in a show of encouragement and hongjoong returns the gesture with appreciation.Â
a particularly loud thump draws the attention of all three of you back to the game. from the grimace on yeosangâs face and his hand steadying himself on the boards, it is obvious he has just been body checked into the wall. seonghwa pursues the puck with graceful yet powerful speed before he digs both skates perpendicular into the ice to suddenly change direction. pushing off, he accelerates back towards the white tigersâ defensive zone when mingi manages to disrupt the opponentâs stickhandling enough for yunho to sweep the puck and skate it up the perimeter of the rink away from their net.
wooyoung also goes on for yeosang but as the left wing, so jongho switches position to play as the right forward. he skates past the benches when an opportunity arises and he hands off his stick whilst grabbing his right-handed stick from you with practised ease.
with the line change of forwards and with seonghwa on as your centre, your team stabilises to an extent. the red devils are no longer being pushed back but they are also unable to push forward. the game is at a stalemate, although the tides remain in favour of the white tigers with both their positional and psychological advantage of the first goal.
you can see the pressure weighing down on your boys; passes that yunho and mingi would be capable of executing blindfolded are miscalculated; predictable manoeuvres still mislead wooyoung in the wrong direction; seonghwa and jongho fail to notice the opportunities for clear passing and shooting lanes; and the openings appear far too wide and innumerable for san to cover the goal from. the relentless offensive pressure that the white tigers places on your team, strikingly similar to how the boys played when you first started coaching them, does not give any breathing room either.
so that is how the first period comes to an endâlosing zero to one with none of your players performing at their best condition. their steps are heavy and burdened as they walk back to the locker room for the intermission, helmets removed the moment they come off the ice to reveal hardened expressions. in the privacy of your assigned room, most of the boys adjust the pads in their gear and yunho peels off his shin guards to let them air out.
you pass around their iced bottles and as exhausted as they are, they make sure to voice their gratitude. san grabs wooyoungâs bottle for him, since the younger is bent over loosening the laces of his left skate. âhere,â san murmurs, twisting open the cap and passing it to wooyoung once he straightens his back.
similarly, seonghwa hands over an opened bottle to yeosang before taking a swig of his own. âyouâre okay?â he checks, the particularly rough body check that yeosang had copped earlier in the game still at the forefront of his mind.
yeosang gives the alternate captain a reassuring smile, âiâm okay.â
appeased by the answer, seonghwa turns to look at hongjoong, who is re-taping the blade of his stick. âwhat about you?â seonghwa softly asks, âyouâre feeling okay?â
hongjoong glances up briefly at the back of your figure. you are busy shifting the red magnets around on the whiteboard and erasing the markings you had made prior to the start of the semifinals. when you turn around to gather their attention, you accidentally make eye contact with him and break out into a small smile.
âyeah,â hongjoong replies, âiâm feeling okay.â
âalright, listen up boys, that was just the first period. weâre not even halfway into this game and weâve started to even up the playing field now that weâve found our footing,â you encourage. âwe just have to make sure we keep our heads cool and read their plays instead of simply reacting to their movements.â
you look at each of them as you direct, âtheir centre forward, byun, has been on for almost all of first period, so thereâs probably going to be a shift change, if not a complete line change of forwards. they have the leniency to swap out their top players since theyâre in the lead, which means if we want to break their momentum, we need to break it then.â
shifting yourself slightly out of the way, the boys are able to see the new arrangement of positions you have marked out on the whiteboard. âweâre starting the second period by sharpening our offence in the 2-2-1 formation,â you explain. you beckon your head at the captain, âhongjoong, youâre back on. you and wooyoung are to position yourselves up high between the neutral and offensive zonesâtry to screen their goaltender when our boys have possession. yunho, i want you to move up to our blue line with jongho and open up as many passing lanes as you two can. mingi will stay in defence and help cover the goal with san in case the white tigers makes a counterattack.
âuse this opportunity to make as many scoring chances as you can. if there isnât a clear shot but thereâs a chance it can be continued on by another one of us, then go for it anywayâany sort of pressure we can put on their team is better than none.â
your forwards nod with understanding, so you continue to the most important point, âbut the moment byun and the wingsâkim and song, i think they areâcome back on, weâre reversing the formation.â you reposition half of the magnets into a 1-2-2 formation. âonly hongjoong will stay up high; wooyoung will fall back and join jongho in the neutral zone; put pressure on their forwards from there. yunho and mingi, youâll play left and right defence as usual.â
san listens intently when you start moving the black magnets that represent the opposing players and call out to him directly. you warn, âsan, be careful of their drop passes. kim and song have been skating forward but leaving the puck behind for byun to score multiple times throughout the first period. they have you primed to predict it now, so theyâre probably going to change their tactic and pass directly in front of the goal instead.â
âyes, coach,â san acknowledges.
a glance at the screen on the wall of the locker room tells you that there are only a few minutes left of the intermission. âgear up and get ready to go back on,â you instruct the boys.
they make final adjustments to their pads and yunho tapes his shin guards back into place under his socks. you make sure they all have their helmets and sticks when they start to file out of the locker room once they are ready and you grab wooyoungâs gloves for him while he ties the laces of his skates again.
âthanks,â he reaches out for them as he stands up. except he stumbles slightly when he puts weight on his left ankle and your hand instinctively grabs his to steady him.
your eyes grow wide with concern. you know that wooyoung is the type to keep quiet about his pain, even if you ask, âdoes your ankle hurt?â
âno, my legs just fell asleep on me from sitting,â he reassures, conscious of your hand that still holds his. he smiles through his lie and hopes that you are unable to pick up on it. the buzzer sounds before you can, though, warning you both that there is only one minute remaining until the game resumes.
hurriedly you tell him, âlet me know if you need to come off.â
somebody yells out your names, forcing you both to rush off to join the rest of the team in the hallway. wooyoung knows that he should admit to you right there and then that his ankle does hurt, but he will notâhe cannotâŠbecause he owes it to his team.
they do not know and they will never know, but there is not a day that goes past where wooyoung does not feel guilty for having desired for their loss last year. he has to play and win this championship for his team because only then can he start to forgive himself. but until he wins, he deserves to suffer.
those in the lineup rapidly glide across the ice to take their positions, wooyoung included. a short buzzer sounds, the puck is dropped, and the second period starts. immediately you can see that your boys have the advantage. the white tigers had not expected you to take such an aggressive approach of offence considering that you are losing.
and sure enough, just as you had predicted, their coach has changed their entire line of forwards. the players are still undeniably skilled, but they visibly struggle to match the pace at which hongjoong and wooyoung are now leading your team to attack.
the rink is under the boysâ control; the neutral zone has become a stronghold with the resistance of both jongho and yunhoâs combined strength and mingiâs reinforcement from behind. wooyoung weaves through the players with polished agility as he creates passing opportunities around the offensive zone, whilst hongjoong makes his own path with imposing might, his devilish wings spread. and even if the white tigers somehow manage to gain possession of the puck and break past your defence, san looks impossibly larger than the goal itself, leaving no openings for their forwards to score.
it is well into the second period when the perfect play sets itself up. with mingi blocking any possible rebounds off the boards, yunhoâs attempt to body check the white tigersâ right wing forces the player to pass the puck across the ice. before their centre forward is able to receive it, jongho has already intercepted and is thundering ahead with his stick controlling the puck.
âhigh!â he shouts, ploughing through the neutral zone as wooyoung and hongjoong immediately respond to his call and skate up towards the goal.
jongho deliberately looks at his captain but flicks the puck with a forehand pass in the other direction, too fast for the defenders to react to. wooyoung easily receives the anticipated pass, thighs burning and his left ankle stinging as he rushes towards the goal from the left with powerful acceleration. the white tigersâ goaltender immediately lowers his stance and raises his arms in preparation to block his shot.
in the corner of his eye, wooyoung sees hongjoong matching his lightning pace on his right, the captainâs eyes narrowed with concentration and body weight tilted forward as he hurtles past the defenders. wooyoung pretends to wind up his stick for a slap shot into the net, only to twist the angle of his arms at the last second to send the puck skittering across the ice directly parallel to the goal. the goaltender drops down to his knees, having anticipated a scoring attempt, except the puck is now nearing hongjoong.
hongjoong sees it clearlyâthe trajectory that the puck is taking and the perfect point where it needs to meet his stick. without breaking its momentum, his arms contract to swing his stick and the blade collides with the puck with forceful precision, sending it hurtling through the air. the goaltender desperately scrabbles back onto his skates to defend the other side of the goal, but it is too late.
the puck flies past the posts and hits the netting.
the horn blares and echoing cheers erupt throughout the stadium as the lights flick on to shine across the net and your forward players. hongjoong yells with fierce triumph, stick raised into the air as wooyoung excitedly collides into him. the duo disappear amongst the bodies of your boys as they swarm around them feverish exuberance.
âthatâs our fucking captainââ ââwooâs assist was insane!â
hongjoong cannot even tell who is who as he is jostled around in overjoyed laughter and beaming smiles, numerous hands reaching out to tap his and wooyoungâs helmets and shoulders. from outside the rink, you, seonghwa and yeosang have long stopped sitting on the benches, bodies too strung tight with hopeful tension to stay seated, so you are immediately swept up into a hug as the three of you celebrate the goal with identical exhilaration.
the game is still far from over but the morale has just skyrocketed through the roof as if the red devils have scored the winning goal. combined with the teamâs fans electrifying the atmosphere of the stadium, it definitely feels like it, and you are starting to see hope that the ones advancing to the finals after today will be your boys.
âline change!â you faintly hear, so you still to watch all three of the white tigersâ forwards skate towards the boards. byun, kim and song jump onto the rink, back on offence in the wake of your goal.
hongjoong makes eye contact with you when you search for him amongst the team huddle and in unison, you both nod, pride and determination unspoken in your gazesâthe real game is about to start now. the boys start to disperse and take up their positions around the marked circle for the centre faceoff, and hongjoong and byun meet head-to-head once again in the middle of the rink.
the white tigersâ centre forward smirks condescendingly, âcute goal.â
hongjoongâs face thunders over but he will not let himself resort to dirty sportsmanship. he bites his tongue and lowers his stance, focusing his attention on the game instead.
âready,â the referee signals, then the puck is released.
byun manages to steal it and sends it backwards to his defensemen to open up more passing lanes, but as discussed, your boys mutually move into the 1-2-2 formation to fortify against their offensive plays. despite the pressure of the white tigersâ top forwards back in play, your team is riding on the momentum of your goal; although you had been treading to keep your heads above the water during the first period, there is now an air of confidence that permeates the ambience of the rink in favour of your boys.Â
an angled pass from their defence rebounds off the boards and kim receives it high in the neutral zone. he attempts an immediate pass across the ice to song, except the safety net of your playerâs defensive formation allows mingi to thrust out with his stick to intercept the pass. he signals, âbreakout!â before deflecting it to wooyoung.
the turnover of possession immediately triggers a switch in defence to offence as wooyoung handles the puck back the other way. his wrists twist the stick with measured coordination, controlling the blade and puck as an extension of his own hands while approaching the offensive zone. wooyoung sees the white tigersâ defensemen racing towards him so he abruptly pivots towards the left to drag the black disc around their extended sticks.
suddenly, a sharp pain engulfs his ankle that has his legs crumbling as he staggers off balance. wooyoung manages to stay upright, using his stick to steady himself, but the momentary stumble is more than enough of an opening for byun to steal possession from behind him.
the rival centre forward swerves around jongho then stays close to the perimeter to avoid mingiâs resistant defence. behind mingi, san splays his legs out as he prepares to block the left side of the goal, but byun continues blazing on and wraps around the back of the net. san follows his movement and swiftly shifts over to the right instead while byun cradles the puck with his blade to lift it into the air the moment he approaches.
yunho cannot risk a penalty by raising his own stick to block its trajectory, so he shifts his body in hopes of deflecting the shot before it reaches san. but byunâs wrists snap and tuck the airborne puck at a sharp angle right past the red goalpostâŠand the horn blows to mark the scoring of a goal.
your jaw plummets at the same time that your heart does. not even your lungs work, your body frozen stock-still. once more, the white tigers are back in the lead only mere minutes after the score had been painstakingly tied by your team.
âfuck!â wooyoung curses and slams his gloved fist against the ice, having dropped to his knees in enraged denial.
seonghwa looks on with despondence from beside you as hongjoong drags wooyoung back up to his feet. the captainâs jaws are clenched in frustration but only because of the score itselfânever because of his boys. when mingi and yunho try to comfort san with firm squeezes and uttered reassurances, he can only return a tight smile, all three of their breaths heavy and irregular from exertion and dismay.
for the boys to have climbed so arduously and persistently to even the scores, only to be knocked off and their momentum obliterated so mercilessly soon, it is even more demoralising than the white tigersâ first goal. after all, the higher the climb, the harder the fall.
through the deep ache in your heart, you mutedly say to yeosang, âgo on for wooyoung, and tell jongho to change sticks and play as left wing.â
âyes, coach,â he replies, voice delicate. yeosang waits as you gesture for wooyoung to come off before he hops over the boards and skates in jonghoâs direction.
âwoo,â you murmur as your left wing makes his way back to the benches, but he avoids your gaze and keeps his head down. you bite your lips and decide not to push it for now. instead, you press an opened bottle into his gloved hand.
wooyoung is thankful that the bottle is half empty, because his hand unconsciously clenches around it with quivering shame and he would have spilled the water were it full. he makes no move to bring the bottle up to his lips; he doubts the water would go down his constricted throat anyway. the penetrative guilt of his tears hurts immeasurably more than the piercing throb of his ankle because he may have just cost his team the winâŠagain.
even when the buzzer signals the end of the second period, wooyoung dares not to look up. the score is one to two and it is his fault. the intermission passes by in a haze of dissociation, his body robotically moving on autopilot into the locker room and back to the ice rink. wooyoung does not even know whether there are line changes to the positions or whether the game strategy has been altered.
but it does not matter because it does not concern himâas if any coach would put him on after his grave mistake. what wooyoung fails to notice though is the glances of worry in his direction, and they do not come solely from his boys.
the stakes run at their highest in the third and final period. tension suffocates the entire stadium, invisible hands that snake around your throats with a hangmanâs loose and make you break out into cold sweats. all the players on the ice rink put everything that they have on the line because by the end of the next twenty minutes, only one team will be advancing to the finals.
from the moment the puck is dropped into play and the timer resumes, the rink is a torrential battlefield of contesting skates and grappling sticks. dramatic passes and unforeseen interceptions lead to rapid turnovers that force both teams to hastily switch back and forth between offence and defence.
but everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumnâŠand there is no victory without defeat. for every scoring attempt that the red devils make, the white tigers make three, steadily and gradually pushing your boys back in the final stretch of the game. and while most of your forwardsâ goals are blocked in the nick of time, most of theirs are not.
as a last resort in the face of the crisis, you calculate the risks then add seonghwa onto the field. âyunho, change!â you yell, pulling him off defence.
âbehind you,â byun alerts song as seonghwa powers across the ice right into the cutthroat action, before cursing when the white tigers nearly lose possession of the puck.
your two captains unrelentingly pursue the black disc at the forefront of your team, their complementary synergy and unity a whirlwind of prowess to be reckoned with as they try not to let the burden of scoring weigh them down. despite the overwhelming pressure as the teamâs last line of defence, even more so now that you have sacrificed stability to capitalise on having two centre forwards, sanâs cat-like eyes do not cloud over, only intensely scanning the field and the opponentâs plays.
you glance at the clock. there are only two minutes left and even the combined efforts of your forwards is not working. you never thought that you would ever have to do this as a coach, but now you are afraid there is no choice. âyunho,â you urge.
his head turns to you and you see the ashen pallor of your own face reflected on his as the very probable outcome of the game dawns across your minds. you make your decision. âyouâre going back on. for san.â
yunhoâs eyes widen. âfor san? i canât play as goaltenderââ
âno,â you shake your head, âweâre playing without a goaltender.â
sixty seconds.
save for wooyoung, all of your defenders, wings and centre forwards make a last-minute spurt to attack, not letting their bodies recover for even a split second as they strain their burning legs and gasping lungs.
thirty seconds.
they desperately break past the physical boundaries of their own stamina into their last reserves of pure grit and will, draining every last drop that their mental resilience has to offer.
ten seconds.
they do not give up. they try again and again to score. but against all of your prayers, all of your tears and sweat and against all of your hopes, the gap does not close. the final buzzer blares throughout the entire stadium, marking the red devilâs loss.
two to six.
your players stand motionless, ghosts of denial and despair amongst the crazed jumps and bounds of celebration as the white tigers flock across the rink towards one another. hongjoong tilts his head upwards to stop the rush of tears from falling down his face, both yunho and seonghwa mirrors of his pain as sweat and tears drip down in salty trails. san grasps the edge of the board in front of him, his head hung low and shoulders quaking from how hard he tries to stifle his sobs so that wooyoung does not hear him.
not one of your boys are able to accept the results of the match. not even you can bring yourself to utter a single word of consolation, be it for yourself or for them. and as you watch the wretched image of your heartbroken boys, choking back tears of your own that you are unaware still manage to escape the corners of your eyes, the only sounds in your ears their stricken cries, you are reminded that the path of an athlete and coach is nothing like its portrayal in movies and stories; where hard work triumphs and leads to sure success.
the harsh reality is that there is no dramatic comeback. there is no underdog victory. there is no miracle and there is no final to advance to. you and your boys lose by triple the amount of your own goals and just like that, the journey has come to an end at the semifinals.
it is an anticlimactic defeat, the gap so far that your team could not even see the light at the end of the tunnel. and somehowâŠthat feels far worse than losing by just a marginal difference.
the locker room is mostly quiet, the silence punctuated only by the closing of zippers and rustling of canvas as the boys who have finished showering and changing pack the rest of their gear for the final time. there are no more intermittent sniffles, leaving behind a miserable hush of emptiness instead. even the dying flicker of the light in the far corner of the ceiling thrums with more energy than the boys combined.
you sit on one of the benches and absentmindedly thumb through your notebook. seonghwa sits to your right, his kit bag already long organised and tidied to preoccupy his mind. the warmth from the close proximity of your thighs and elbows is a gracious comfort to the both of you. it no longer makes your backs straighten with uptightness, conscious of the boundaries between coach and athleteânot after your hearts and bodies melded together in hugs of solace after the final buzzer of the semifinals and melted away those lines.
seonghwa places his hand soothingly on your knee and murmurs, âstop looking at that. weâll think about it later all together.â
none of the words or diagrams had been registering in your head, but you nod and close your notebook anyway. he probably does not want to see it either. you rest your head back against the wall behind you with a small exhale, blankly watching your team instead until your eyes travel around the room.Â
you count, then count again, before calling out, âcaptain, is wooyoung still showering?â
hongjoong cranes his neck around at the same time that everybody else does as well. âdonât think so,â he frowns, âiâm pretty sure he was one of the first ones out.â
wooyoungâs kit bag is still unpacked in his locker, so he is definitely not already waiting for the bus outside. before his absence can raise any alarmsâthe last thing the boys need on their plate right nowâyou stand and announce, âiâll go find him. he probably just lost track of time.â
âdo you need me to come with you?â yeosang rises to his feet.
you shake your head and reassure, âkeep packing your bag.â then you turn to make your way out of the locker room when somebody calls out for you.
âcoach, wait.â
itâs san, who skitters in front of you to press something into your hands. âgive this to him when you see him?â
the item crinkles and a glance downwards reveals that it is an instant ice pack. you smile softly, stuffing it into the pocket of your jacket and hoping that nobody notices the ice pack that is already in there. âof course,â you gently touch his forearm. âiâll be back.â
this time you make it out to the corridor but you do not get further than four steps before another voice stops you.
âcoach!â
when you turn around, hongjoong emerges from the doorway. he slows down as he catches up to stand in front of you. âiâŠâ his voice falters. âiâm sorry.â
iâm sorry i didnât realise wooyoung was gone. iâm sorry i didnât do my job as captainâŠand iâm sorry for losing.Â
âno,â you shake your head. âdonât be.â because you tried your bestâŠand you did not give up. beckoning in the direction of the locker room, you tell him, âtake care of the boys, okay? iâll be back with wooyoung.â
the rigidity in hongjoongâs shoulders dissipates. âthank youâŠy/n.â
you smile, âanytime, hongjoong.â you wait for him to walk back inside before you finally turn to find wooyoung.
the arena is massive but apart from the locker roomâwhich you already know wooyoung is not inâthere are limited places that offer privacy from the multitude of people who mill around, be it other athletes, staff or spectators. you know from personal experience, so you head to the one place that is usually guaranteed to be somewhat out of the public eye.
âoh, fuck me,â wooyoung startles when you sit yourself down heavily on the same step as him, his curse echoing around the both of you. âhow the fuck did you know i would be here?â
you snort, bumping his shoulder with yours. âi hate to burst your bubble, but this isnât exactly an original experience. iâm pretty sure every athlete has hidden here to cry at one point in their career.â
the slight spark of light that had ignited within wooyoung at your appearance suddenly flickers out, reminded of why exactly he is hiding in the emergency stairwell in the first place. shame tears his eyes away from you, unable to meet your gaze any longer.
âi want to be left alone,â he murmurs.
although you respect his request, that is the opposite of what he needs. left to his own thoughts and devices, you know that wooyoung will spiral dangerously in guilt and self-reproach, even if the red devilâs loss is not his faultâis not anybodyâs fault.
the two of you sit in silence, wooyoung intermittently swiping at a lone tear that threatens to drip off his chin, and you mulling over the words that you hold close to your heart. eventually, you break the quietude with a soft chuckle.
âthe first game i ever played i was actually on left defence. our team was losing by two goals and i suddenly had the puck. i still remember seeing an opening in the goal and feeling the surge of confidence that i did when i hit the puckâŠbut you know what?â
wooyoung does not answer, does not look up from where he is picking at his cuticles, but you can feel his curiosity so you continue, âit was an own goal. i scored into my own teamâs net and it wasnât until i scored another goal before i finally realised which way i was meant to go. obviously, my team wasnât very happy with me, but then i ended up winning the game for them anyway and thatâs how i started playing as centre forward.
âthere was also a time during internationals where i argued against the refâs call and got myself put into the penalty box. it cost our team a goalâthe tiebreaker, too. i learnt my lesson and never did that again. and then there was the first couple of years i started to coached. i thought i had enough experience as a player to be a perfect coach. it wasnât until one of my teams told me to pull my head out of my ass that i realised i was anything but.â
that gets a small snicker from out of him. you deliberate, âiâd like to think that we make the best team now, though.â
he scowls disgruntledly, âweâre your only team.â
âand my favourite team, too,â you laugh softly, gauging his expression. âmy point is, wooyoung, we all make mistakes. but the reason why we make them in the first place is because we love playing. we do what our heart wants to in the moment and we play for ourselves because otherwise, there would be nothing left of us without ice hockey. what matters is that we stand up again and learn from the experience.â
wooyoung feels the weight of your words settling heavily in his chest because they are only half true to him. his passion and love for the sport indeed burns eternally as a blazing inferno inside of him, but his persistence to play today was due to ulterior motives. to acknowledge that aloud is a different story, though.
your voice takes on a lighter tone, âalthough i guess in this case, you should be sitting down with that ankle of yours. you know you should not be gambling with your injuries.â
he finally looks at you; a former athlete who did not even have the luxury to gamble your injury. it suddenly scares him to imagine just an ounce of the conflicting anguish that must course through you at his continuous decisions to endanger his own careerâthe anguish that you have made sure to never show, lest it affect them.
âdo you ever feel angry?â wooyoung abruptly asks, voice laced with hesitation.
it is your turn to look away. you know that the question is not directed at himself but your entire career. with a bittersweet chuckle, you allow yourself to admit, âevery day. i still get angry and i still get upset. i wake up in the morning wondering why it had to be me and i go to bed at night wondering why i didnât deserve a second chance.
âbut iâm okay; it gets easier to be okay. coaching means that i still get to go on the ice, i still get to experience the adrenaline of games and i still get to play through you guys. and most of allâŠi still have a team. i donât know if i will ever stop feeling angry, but itâs better than it used to be.â
at your admission, wooyoung is reminded of how you are possibly the only one who would be able to truly understand him. he musters his courage and confesses, âi wanted us to lose last yearâŠand we did end up losing.â
it catches you off guard, the direction of the conversation not what you had expected, but you neutralise your expression and tone so as to not make him feel defensive. âhow come?â
he swallows. âmy ankleâi fractured it last year just before we made it into the playoffs, so i wasnât able to compete. i had been so angry at first; angry at myself for getting injured, angry at my coach for not letting me play, angry at my team because they could play. then when it became clear that i wasnât going to be able to compete regardless of how angry i was, i became jealous, insecure andâŠafraid. jongho and i share the same position, and i mean, look at him nowâheâs able to play both left and right wing. if they had won the playoffs without me, then would the team really need me?
âthey did end up losing, just like i had wanted them to, but that made me feel so much worseâmade me realise just how terrible i am of a person. the guilt eats me alive every single day and i tell myself that i will make it up to them this time, that i will risk everything to win for themâŠâ wooyoung scoffs pathetically at himself, âonly for me to fuck things up because of my fucking ankle again.â
you get it. the slow gnawing of yourself from the endless feelings that you âshould not haveâ until you become no more than an empty husk. ever since your own injury, you have spent nights on end trying to reconcile with your emotions in your own confusing and formidable journey, but for the first time ever, you are grateful that you didâbecause you can keep wooyoung company on his.Â
you carefully voice, âi think it was okay for you to have felt the way that you did. theyâre your feelings and nobody can invalidate them nor your experience. what i came to realise was that all of those âuglyâ feelings do not make us ugly for having themâthey simply make us human. it is only a problem when those feelings end up hurting other people, but i think the person you hurt the mostâŠwas yourself, wooyoung.â
at your words, he looks at you with wide eyes, a fresh swell of wetness gathering in them. wooyoung is kind and loving to everybody, yet has never once thought about deserving that kindness and love for himself. you smile gently, trying to hide the slight quiver in your own lips as your heart clenches with a desire to be loved in his stead.
âyou know, woo, iâve watched basically all of your past games including the quarterfinals from last year. but if i were to compare it to todayâs game, it was as if two completely different teams were playing. your team was alive todayâa truly united team where every member is the driving force behind each otherâs passion for the game. i am pretty confident when i say that a huge part of it was because you were playing with themâbecause the team was finally whole again.
âyes, the trophy and the championship title is coveted but it is not what truly matters to them and neither to you. it wasnât the actual win itself that you wanted today, but being able to win for them. and if your boys were to pick between winning without you and losing with you, iâm pretty sure you know better than i do what their immediate choice would be.â
should the other boys be here right now, they would instantly berate your ears off for even suggesting the first option. the thought flickers through wooyoungâs mind too and the corners of his lips tug upwards slightly.
still, he apprehensively confirms, â...no one is angry at me?â
âno,â you reply, voice soft, ânot at all. but we are worried.â
you are reminded of the weight in the pocket of your jacket. pulling it out, you present the ice pack to wooyoung. âlook, san told me to give this to you.â
his fingertips brush against your palm when he reaches out, hand hovering over the ice pack as if he does not dare to touch it. âsan did?â he whispers.
when you nod, the final confirmation that he needs that nobodyâyou includedâharbours ill feelings for him and his actions, he allows himself to take the ice pack. allows himself to love himself.
âyou need to take care of your body,â you fondly chastise, lightening the atmosphere. âdid coach cho not drill into you that as an athlete, your body is your most valuable asset? if you thought he was bad, heâs going to seem like an angel when iâm through with you. you wonât just be banned from playing, iâll tie you to the bed to make sure you donât walk on that ankle.â
wooyoung laughs through the few tears that are left, mood lifted enough to suggestively lift his eyebrows and quip, âkinky.â his laughter grows when you punch his arm in response.
no longer does he have to carry this burden alone because you are there for him now. but you know that you are not the only one who can be there for wooyoung. the dynamic between the boys runs past mere teammates and from what you have noticed, quite possibly even friends.
tentatively, you suggest, âmaybe this is something you should tell the others about. that way you can truly let things go.â
his gaze wavers at the idea as he looks at you. yet, the miniscule smile and encouraging nod you give him fills him with tranquillity. perhaps it is time to let go, but the only way he can truly do that is if he is honest to the boys about his feelingsâif he is honest to himself.
âokay,â he breathes out softly.
you grace him with another beat of silence before you stand up, extending your hand out to him. âletâs go.â
wooyoung takes your offered hand and lets you pull him up to his feet. he does not know if it is intentional, but the slight squeeze you give him right before your hand lets go of his fills him with warmth. the feeling stays with him even when he activates the ice pack as you two walk back to the locker room.
right at the doorway where the rest of the team is behind, you stop. you place your hand on wooyoungâs back, whose brows are starting to furrow in confusion. âiâll be waiting out here. take your time,â you tell him.
âthank you, coach,â wooyoung returns your soft smile.
before you can think better of it, you reply, âi wasnât talking to you as your coachâŠbut as your friend.â then you nudge him towards the doorway with tender encouragement, waiting for him to walk through the threshold before you close the door behind him.
the first few months you had coached the red devils, mistrust had been in the shape of private conversations that deliberately excluded you. but now, trust is in the conversations that you know you do not need to be a part of. so you simply lean against the wall and wait.
and when they emerge from the locker room half an hour later, you know you have made the right decision upon seeing their eased expressions and relaxed shoulders. the air is still sombre, their defeat in the semifinals still fresh at the forefront of everybodyâs minds, but what matters now is that they will face the loss togetherâthe eight of them and you.
âhere you go.â
hongjoong hands you your bag so that you do not have to go back in to grab it. you take it graciously from him, then with him by your side, you two lead the group through the arenaâpast the gazes and whispers that follow your groupâand out to the teamâs bus.
first to load his kit bag, yeosang takes his usual seat towards the front and waits. he has long developed the habit of placing his backpack under the seat in front of him instead of beside him. as the bus starts to pull away once all the bags are properly stored, you wordlessly take the seat next to him. your knees intermittently brush up against each other with the slight sway of the bus, but neither one of you make a move to shift your legs away.
you and yeosang watch the outside world whirl by the window, just like you always do. except the flowers that have bloomed among the treesâthat had been bursts of positivity and vibrancy only just this morningâare now bittersweet reminders of the fall that you and the boys have just experienced.
a brief movement below your line of vision causes you to glance down. it is yeosangâs hand, palm upturned with a silent invitation of solace. you slide your fingers into his, an extension of the comfort you wish to give to them, and them to you.
what you and the boys do not realise, though, is that your flowers have simply bloomed elsewhere.
your jaw drops in sync with the last of the heavy suitcases that seonghwa rests on the floor outside their apartment complex. the amount of his luggage is easily equivalent to at least half the teamâs.
âthese are all yours?â you confirm.
seonghwa looks at you strangely, âof course. why?â
you look at him strangely. âare you planning on moving? why did you pack enough for a trip around the world?â
âwell somebody didnât want to tell us where we were going, so i had to make sure i was prepared for wherever our destination would be.â
âitâs called a surprise for a reason,â you shake your head, âand i did tell you to pack for cold weather, didnât i?â
seonghwa fakes offence, scoffing, âcan i remind you that it is still spring here, so my apologies for assuming that it might potentially mean we are travelling overseas.â
âyouâre such a worrywart, you old fart,â wooyoung teases, circling around the older on his rideable suitcase.
seonghwa yelps when the wheels nearly run over his toes and he threatens, ânext time you wet through your entire pack of underwear, donât come crawling and begging for my spares.â
the suitcase halts indignantly to a stop with its rider. âthat was one time,â wooyoung complains, âand it wasnât even my fault!â
âit wasnât even my fault,â seonghwa mocks. âi told you not to put your shampoo in a ziplock bag but no, you said that it would be fine.â
wooyoung sticks his index finger up. âcorrection, hongjoong said that it would be fine.â
âwhat the fuck, wooyoung,â hongjoong blanches at the sudden disclosure.
âand thatâs exactly where you are at fault,â seonghwa cocks his eyebrow at wooyoung. âwhy would you listen to him?â
âwhat the fuck, seonghwa. iâm your captain,â hongjoong scowls.
âonly during games.â
when you make eye contact with san, the two of you can only sigh with amused resignation. the rest of the boys shake their heads and proceed to load their luggage onto the bus, leaving the trio to feud it out in the background.
as mingi stacks his luggage beside yunhoâs, he turns to ask, âare you sure we donât need our kits?â
âyou all brought your skates and sticks with you?â you question in return. when mingi and yunho nod, you reassure them, âthen thatâs all you need.â
jongho pipes up from beside you, âbut what about training?â
âmental training,â you simply grin before hopping up the stairs to sit beside yeosang.
the boys gradually take their seats, even wooyoung and the two oldest despite their continued bickering. somebody yells out over the commotion, âcoach! are you going to tell us where weâre going now?â
you peer backwards over the top of your seat to find everyoneâs eager eyes on you. ânope,â you snicker, âyouâll find out when we get there. we are going on a holiday though, iâll tell you that much.â
there is a surge of excitement at your confirmation and a similar fluttering eagerness flits through you, except yours is because you cannot wait to see their reactions. you really hope that the next two weeks will help to reset the teamâs morale and give them a much-needed break.
âkq let us go on holiday?â yeosang asks with an impressed look as you settle back in your seat.
you give him a proud smirk. âiâm pretty convincing when i want to be. plus, we just had playoffs and we would all benefit from the rest. what better time to do that than at the start of the off-season?â
âthere is no better time.â
âexactly.â
and so the bus starts the four-hour drive towards what the boys will soon come to realise is a team retreat. mingi connects his phone to the bluetooth, in charge of shuffling the music that blasts through the speakers, turning the atmosphere of the bus into a lively concert once it becomes obvious that it is going to be a long trip.
you have to yell over their deafening singingâwhich you have to admit actually sounds quite impressiveânumerous times for them to sit their asses down, their enthusiasm uncontainable by the seat belts and law regulations. but they look their age, free and untroubled; just a group of boys up to their silly antics with one another, so you cannot bring yourself to truly regulate them.
the bus drives on, making a rest stop at one of the service areas along the highway so that you can stretch your legs in fresh air, use the restrooms and most importantlyâ
âfood!â
their hollers resound before the doors of the bus even open. the second that the gap is large enough to fit one of them through, most of the boys go sprinting off like a stampede of toddlers in the direction of the food court.
wooyoung stays back and slips his arm through the crook of your elbow when you step off the bus too. he grins mischievously, âiâm sticking with you so you can pay for my food.â
âoh, stop it,â yunho tugs him away, pulling even harder when it only serves to make wooyoungâs grasp tighten around your arm. âiâll pay for your food. leave her wallet alone.â
you laugh brightly as you are jostled around and you pull a card out of your back pocket, holding it up like a golden ticket. you waggle your brows playfully, âitâs on the company card.â
both wooyoung and yunho freeze. their eyes instantaneously start to glimmer, faces radiating when they slowly look at each other. then before you can react, they pounce on you, linking their arm through yours on either side of you and dragging you along to catch up with the rest of the team.
âbuy whatever you want!â wooyoung brags and waves the card that he has seized off of you, âitâs on me!â
the service area itself is a field trip as the eight boys cause carnage throughout, except the destruction is in the number of times they swipe the company card. their hands quickly fill with rice cakes and fish skewers, corn dogs and grilled squid, more bags of walnut pastries and roasted potatoes tucked safely under their elbows. they demolish the snacks at the same rate it takes for the next ones to be prepared and the card is tossed around to keep up with their purchases.
they do not forget about the drinks either, getting iced americanos and barley tea to go along with their snacks, and banana milk and soda for the next leg of the trip. whatever catches their eyesâbasically everything they lay their eyes uponâthey buy. you do have to draw the line at daytime drinking though, narrowing your eyes at the cases of beer jongho and yunho try to pick up until they sheepishly put them back.
(you also end up having to purchase motion sickness tablets because seonghwa and mingi gorge themselves so full on snacks that they are queasy before they even make it back on the bus. kqâs president sends you a text too, asking just what exactly you and the boys have bought to rack up almost forty consecutive purchases at a service area. but the subsequent message asking if they are enjoying themselves tells you that his question is all in good fun.)
their energy mellows out during the last hour of the trip, both from tiring themselves out and from the gradual change in the scenery outside the windows. no longer can you see an endless mirage of highway road and open fields.
as the miles build up the further you travel, it leads deeper into a mountainous woodland with the trees growing denser and thicker around you. the narrower road winds around the base of hills and the bus driver carefully navigates the undisturbed peace of the forest. it starts to get colder and when the branches of the trees gradually dress themselves in dappled layers of snow, more of you shoulder on the thick coats and puffer jackets you had told them to bring.
the bus eventually arrives at a clearing amongst the pine trees, revealing a large but welcoming cottage pension. its wooden exterior and sloped roof gives it a distinctly cosy and rustic look, with large glass doors spanning the entire height of the walls that will let you admire the surrounding mountainous beauty from inside. off to the side of the cottage, there is a sizeable lake that has frozen over and immediately, you know that this was the perfect place to choose.
the boys press their faces against the window to get a better look as the bus pulls up beside the accommodation. âwoah,â they breathe out, their exhales fogging up the glass.
they follow you off the bus in a trance, mouths open and unable to peel their eyes away lest they waste even a second to drink up the sight before them. here, in the heart of the taebaek mountains, it is still a winter wonderland despite the spring blossoms that cover the rest of seoul.
you turn to face them, walking backwards slowly and spreading your arms out with fond tenderness. âwelcome to your home for the next two weeks, boys.â
even though it is simply an illusion created by taebaekâs geographical location and mountainous terrain, this time you find yourself appreciating the coldness and bareness of the winter-like ambience that cocoons you and your boys. it is as if time has stopped and there are no worriesâŠonly time to heal and start afresh.
living together, even if just for a holiday, is different.
you are used to only seeing the team in their training clothes, practice jerseys or bulked up in their padded gear and uniform. but here, the boys wear lounging sweatpants and worn hoodies, hair soft and poking into their eyes, bodies and expressions unguarded as they laze around. and where you are used to only seeing them at training, meetings and games, all rigorously scheduled and planned, there are no expectations to follow and no limits as to when you see them here.
the boys have their own organised chaoticness to their daily routines, having been living together for almost seven years now, and it seamlessly integrates into the space of the cottage too. but what truly surprises you and them is how you naturally blend into it.
when you rented the pension, you had ensured there were at least three bathrooms to accommodate all nine of you. however, you quickly discover that numbers mean nothing because the boys are incapable of staggering their morning and nightly bathroom routines one by one like you had assumed they would. you also realise that it is not that they are incapable, but that they like and want to do everything together.
space within a room holds no meaning to them and they are perfectly content to stand pressed up against each otherâs sides, expertly dodging elbows and leaning over one another to reach for their toothbrushes or skincare. after that first night, you wake up in the morning and patter off in search for the least cramped bathroom to wriggle yourself into, up to three of you sharing the large sink and mirror that now looks comparatively tiny as you brush your teeth together.
more often than not, you find yourself sandwiched between yunho and mingi. it is moreso a matter of neither boy letting you escape from their clutches if you happen to peer into whichever bathroom they have crammed themselves into.
âwe make the perfect ratio as the two tallest plus you as the shortest,â mingi likes to rationalise, âso it averages out perfectly with three boys in each of the other bathrooms.â
âbut sanâs shoulders are basically the equivalent of two grown men, so your point is invalid no matter how we divide ourselves up,â you like to argue back.
except they refuse to see reason. instead, yunho raises the volume of the speaker he has set on the sinkâs counter that blasts out music to playfully drown you out. you relent every time and it turns into goofy dancing from the three of you as you pull silly expressions at one another in the mirror. when you rinse your mouth, mingi will start a gargling competition without fail, but none of you have lasted for more than three seconds before you begin to choke with laughter.
(when you are with people you like, everything is funny.)
seonghwa shakes his head whenever he passes the bathroom, insisting, âthe only thing you guys are missing is a disco ball.â he is definitely not jealous of the fun you three are having. not at all.
the eldest has his own routine though, visible in the way he prepares everybodyâs cups of coffee in the morning. they are all made differently according to individual preferences; no sugar, double shots, a dash of milk, brown sugar, matcha powder or decaf. and despite the fact that yeosang is usually up the earliest, seonghwa does not allow him to make his own coffee.
seonghwa claims it is because nobody knows how to properly use the drip brewer, but yeosang sits next to you and murmurs into your ear, âhe just wonât admit that he likes to make them for us.â it must be the chill of the morning, but yeosangâs warm, whispery voice always sends goosebumps over your arms.
by the second morning, seonghwa finds himself naturally grabbing an extra cup and the hot surprise greets you with one and a half teaspoons of sugar in it, just how you like it. hongjoong emerges from the bathroom moments later to grab his cup and as he takes a careful sip, his eyes flit over the remaining cups on the table. seonghwa can practically hear the numbers ticking up in his head.
ây/n already took hers,â he verbalises, beckoning with his chin.
hongjoong turns around in the same direction to see you curled up on the sofa next to jongho and yeosang, your feet tucked comfortably underneath you as you lean forward out of curiosity to take a sip of jonghoâs americano. when your expression scrunches up from the shock of bitterness, jongho giggles brightly and steadies your hand that is holding your own cup of sweetened coffee. his eyes melt at your reaction.
âoh, i know that expression,â hongjoong chortles. âheâs a goner.â
seonghwa sees the honey in hongjoongâs own eyes and he smiles knowingly, âi donât think heâs the only one.â
hongjoong does not peel his gaze away from the three of you all cosied up on the couch. âyouâre right, theyâre both goners,â he hums absentmindedly, not at all registering who exactly it is who is being referred to.
(the true answer is that there are more than three of them.)
you discover that wooyoung is usually in charge of cooking, but in return, everybody else gets up to clear and wash the dishes the moment the last pair of chopsticks is placed down on the table. that is the only time they are allowed into the kitchen because they are apparently all walking hazards.
but when wooyoung realises you can actually handle a knife without giving him grey hairs from watching, the two of you easily divide the roles and tasks between yourselves. like a waltzing dance, you move together in the kitchen to prepare the meals. he passes you the spices in the overhead cabinets before you ask and you close the fridge when he takes out a pack of meat or vegetables.
cooking with wooyoung is never without bickering. he does not let you hear the end of the time you bump your head on the edge of the counter when you try to grab a saucepan from underneath, or the time you squeal after the oil starts to splatter from the onions. but if that is the reason why he starts to subtly move his hand to cushion the edges of the counters when you bend down to find something, or why he chooses to do the stirring and frying while you slice, then he pretends it is merely coincidence.
san never strays far away from the kitchen whenever you and wooyoung are cooking. you have noticed that they do not really ever stray apartânone of the boys do, though. wooyoung talks as you and san listen and the latter does not stop smiling as he watches wooyoung multitask. what you do not realise is the countless times you have forgotten to keep cooking because you are watching him too with the same expression that san wears.
(the rest of the boys realise and they also see the way san and wooyoung will pause to gaze at you.)
when you two have mostly finished cooking and it is simply a matter of waiting for the sauce to simmer or the soup to boil, you find that wooyoung will take his seat next to san on the barstools at the island, knees and thighs touching as he continues the conversation. you gravitate towards them the first time before catching yourself, cautious that you may be intruding, but then san gives you a dimpled smile and beckons for you to come and sit by his other side.
san likes to keep a gentle hand resting on wooyoungâs knee as he talks. when he does the same thing to you without even looking, your lungs stop working for a minute. the only thought that consumes your mind is the warm sensation of sanâs thumb soothingly running back and forth across your skin. you do not want him to stop, so you stay still in hopes that he continues. you are pretty sure san does not even consciously realise he is doing it.
(san does, and he is glad you do not move away.)
in the hours after dinner and before you all head off to sleep, you pile the thick blankets into the open living room and squish yourselves on the least number of couches as possible. again, space holds no meaning when you are with the boys and you find the press of yeosang and hongjoongâs skin against your own more natural there than not.
sometimes you watch movies together, other times talking with low voices as the hours tick by, and other times where you are all doing your own things but in the presence of one another. regardless, the nine of you stay cuddled in front of the fireplace with the warm glow of the fire and the light dreamy flutter of snow outside the windows.
yeosang tenderly tucks the blankets up around mingiâs shoulders when he falls asleep before turning to you on his other side. âare you warm enough?â he softly asks. and even though you say you are, he still tucks the edges of your blanket under your chin, nestling you safely within the blanket, hongjoongâs side and his own body.
the boys are naturally affectionate with one another and seeing the close dynamic of theirâŠfriendship so intimately in the environment of the retreat reminds you once more of the possibility that their relationship may run deeper than they let on.
(but when that affection extends to you, you wonder what exactly that may mean for your own relationship with the boys.)
and so living together, even if just for a holiday, is different. it is different when they are the first sight to greet you when you wake up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and voice still husky from fatigue as they murmur good mornings to you, and your cheeks start to glow with rosiness.
it is different when the decisions you make together are not about a change in formation or a defensive power play, but what to make for dinner and what movie you want to watch afterwards, and it makes you begin to wonder what other mundane decisions you want to make with them. it is different when they wrap you in their embraceâeight consecutive hugsâto bid you goodnight, and it takes you longer to fall asleep because you toss restlessly in your bed as their smiles replay in your head.
being on the retreat together is strangely domestic and homelike. but it has been almost nine months since you have started coaching the boys and thus seeing them every day for countless hours on end. so really, this trip should not change anything.
and yet, it feels like everything is changing.
jongho pays no mind to the conversation that is happening around him. last he heard, half of you are wanting to go out to skate on the lake before the sun sets and the other half are wanting to finish the halli galli championship you had started the night prior.
he is happy to do either but his mind is distracted by something else. as the screen of his phone lights up, jonghoâs eyes flicker down and he puts his hand over the glowing display before anybody can see the caller id. you glance at him when you catch the movement in the corner of your peripheral vision, only to look away when yunho calls out your name to see which of the two options you would prefer.
the screen goes black as the call goes unanswered. seconds later, it lights up briefly with a notification.
pick up.
then the caller id shows up again. jongho grabs his phone and mumbles to nobody in particular, âgoing to grab something from my room.â
closing the door to the room that he is sharing with hongjoong in the pension, jongho sits down heavily on the edge of his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. whilst he has no qualms ignoring their messages now, he still finds it difficult to do the same to their phone calls. he finds his resolve weakening as he watches his phone ring for the third time within minutes.
so jongho picks up. âmother,â he greets stiffly.
she scoffs scathingly, âyou finally decided to pick up.â
âiâve been busy with the playoffs.â a half lie.
âbusy? busy losing, you mean,â his mother ridicules. jongho is taken aback by the fact that she is aware, since he did not tell his family. it makes sense when she berates, âdo you know how embarrassing it was for me to find out from your aunt? she told me to congratulate you for making it into the semifinalsâthe semifinals, jongho.â
he feels a heat of shame at what she is insinuating. jongho defends, âthatâs still the top four out of seventy six teams.â
ânobody cares,â she turns her nose up. âit does not matter if you came fourth, second or lastâunless you win first place, the result is not worth anything. our entire family has a legacy of achievements and your younger brother even has an olympic gold medal now. but what have you done? this is a mere national competition and yet you are incapable of making it into the finals.â
âjongââ his name dies on the tip of your tongue and your hand stops before you can knock on the door when you hear jonghoâs muffled voice.
the boys had finally decided to grab their skates so you had come to get jongho to join everybody outside. realising he is talking to somebody, you are about to turn away and give him some privacy, but the words you hear make you freeze.Â
it is not the conversation itself that you overhear; it is the wounded tone of jonghoâs voice that makes it impossible for you to walk away. your feet stay rooted to the spot, in fact, wanting to enter the room. you have not heard jongho in such great affliction before, not even when he was consoling the boys with tears in his own eyes after their crushing defeat in the playoffs.Â
âwhen are you going to celebrate my achievements for what they are, instead of telling me to do better?â jongho appeals.
he has lived his entire life being told that he is not good enoughâconstantly compared to the accomplishments of his family, particularly those of his younger brother. what he does not understand is why he cannot just be recognised for the athlete that he is, void of any other person.
his mother is silent and for a brief moment, jongho thinks that she may finally see some sense in his wordsâŠonly for her to unfeelingly state, âwhen they are worth celebrating.â with a simple, âdo better,â she hangs up on him.
jonghoâs hand falls limply into his lap, phone slipping out of his lax fingers with a dull thud to the ground. he wants to swear. he wants to cry. he wants to throw his phone against the wall until the screen shatters. but jongho simply leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, the crushing weight of dejection forcing his lungs to exhale shakily.
there is a faint, timid knock on the door. he knows who it is immediatelyâonly one person would knock so softly. âcome in,â he answers listlessly, because he could never bring himself to ignore you no matter his own feelings.
the door cracks open to reveal your tentative figure and you slip through the opening. from the way your lips are pulled down, eyes rounded with concern, jongho knows that you have connected enough dots to understand the context of the phone call.
you approach the bed and try to ignore how small the boy in front of you looks with his shoulders hunched inwards on themselves. jongho has always appeared as the most collected and composed, even more so than the captain, and it makes your chest tight to realise he has simply been hiding this whole time.
jongho is not a man of many words so you do the next best thing that feels right in the moment. you simply open your arms. when his hands slowly come up in silent acceptance, you step forward to engulf him in your embrace.
he presses his face into the soft warmth of your stomach. the darkness welcomes him with safety and comfort and he lets out a stuttering breath that racks his entire body. you wrap one arm around his shoulders and cradle the back of his head with your other, your fingers tenderly caressing his hair in soothing motions.
although silence is what he needs, you allow yourself to say one thing to him. you murmur, âiâm proud of you, jonghoâŠso, so proud of you.â
and they are the words he has been wanting to hear his entire life. unable to keep it together any longer, jongho breaks down in your arms with tearful sobs and allows himself to grieve for the acknowledgement he has yearned his entire life and never received. however, it will only be for tonight because he has realised that it is futile to chase after recognition from a person who refuses to see his worth, even if that person is his own family.
there will always be other people who can see his actual worth; the same people who will still love him even if he does not have a gold trophy to call his. for him, those people are his seven boys and you.
so he stays in your arms with you wrapped around him, time lost to the two of you. he cries until he has no tears left and you tilt your head upwards to stop the flow of your own tears before they can drip down onto the crown of his head. and outside the bedroom, hongjoong quietly eases the door shut to give you both some privacy.
you do not know how much time has passed when you finally step out. jongho has fallen asleep after you tucked him under his covers, exhausted. heading towards your room to change out of your shirt, you are startled by the sight of hongjoong lingering near the door.
âyou didnât go out with the boys?
he shakes his head, then conscious of where you two are standing, he gestures inside your room and follows you in. âis jongho okay?â hongjoong asks.
âi think soâŠheâs sleeping now but probably just needs a bit more time,â you sigh, âi just wish i could do more for him.â
hongjoong reassures, âyou are already doing so much more than you realise.â
for jongho. for wooyoung. for all of them. comfort has never been about the words or actions, but the person who is by their side, and for the boys, having you there is already enough.
âreally?â you worry.
âyes, really.â
before he realises what he is doing, hongjoong reaches out to gingerly cup the side of your face to thumb away the worry in your brows. ây/n, you take care of us all the timeâŠbut who takes care of you?â he whispers.
âiâm your coach, of course iââ
âno,â he interrupts. âyou arenât just our coach and from what i have seen, you arenât just our friend either. unlessâŠâ hongjoong hesitates, âunless iâve been reading everything wrong, then in which case, tell me and iâll move away.â
you do not reply. your eyes flicker back and forth between his, your heart racing and mind blank. it is trueâthey are not just your players and they are not just your friends either, but you are unsure about taking such a huge leap of faith and acting upon the feelings you have only just started to understand.
hongjoong takes your silence as encouragement to step even closer until he is right in front of you. he keeps his hand on your cheek, his other coming up to delicately cradle your waist. you are standing intimately enough for his warm breath to span across your cheeks as he tenderly pleads, âlet us take care of you as more than what we are right now.
âif you do not want to put a label on it then thatâs fine, we wonât. weâll still be your team and youâll still be our coach. but please, let us take care of you when you are hurt, when youâre upset or angry, and when you are happy, too. let us love you as one of ours.â
as one of theirs.
you swallow and confirm, âare you all together?â
âyes, weâre dating each other,â hongjoong nods.
âbut then whyâŠâ your voice trials off. why me, too?
hongjoong taps the tip of your nose and jokes lightly, âis there a capped limit as to how many people we are allowed to love?â
it pulls a giggle out of you and he smiles fondly as he reiterates, âwe donât need to put a label on this and we can go entirely at your pace. just let us into your heart, please?â
for a moment you wonder what will happen to your professional relationship with the boysâwhat will happen if things do not work out or worse, if other people find out and report you all for it. but when you really think about it, you realise that the professionalism between you and the boys has long since blurred.Â
you do not know if you can go back to seoul after this retreat and act like you do not want to continue living with them. most importantly, you do not want to know if you can. so you take the leap of faith and nodâyou want to be theirs.
when you first met the red devils in autumn last year, you were resolved to win over them. never would you have expected that you would win them over in more ways than oneâŠand be won over yourself.
âhi, girlfriend.â
seonghwa smacks the back of wooyoungâs head. âstop pressuring her,â he hisses as the younger cackles delightfully and strides away through the snow impressively fast considering he is wearing his skates.
âignore him,â seonghwa turns to you, where you are sitting on the porch steps to the cottage. he squats down and takes the laces out of your hands to start doing up your own skates.
âi can do it myself,â you start.
âi know you can,â seonghwa hums, gazing up lovingly, âbut i want to do it for you.â
you press your lips together in an attempt to hide the shy smile that blooms across your face and when that fails, you duck your head down instead. ever since your talk with hongjoong the other day, the boys have been significantly more obvious and proactive with their displays of affection for you. however, you are pretty sure they had their own conversation when you were asleep or in the shower, because not one of them pressures you into something you are not ready for, even if that includes making your relationship official.
âthere you go. is it too tight? too loose?â seonghwa taps your skates and you tell him they are perfect. taking his offered hand with an appreciative smile, he pulls you up to your feet and you go to join the rest of the boys on the frozen lake.
you are sure it feels the same for every single one of your boysânothing can compare to that moment when you first step onto the ice. it is where you become a completely different person; a fish back in water, in control and at home.
it had been a gamble renting the cottage pension as you were unable to know whether the lake would be frozen over enough to allow for skating. but it is as if the heavens know not to separate you and your boys from the love and passion that your entire lives revolve around, because you are blessed to see them scrambling out to play on the frozen lake almost every single day, just like they are right now.
san spots you and seonghwa and beckons for you two to join. âhongjoongâs the tagger,â he calls out.
the captain stands at the other end of the lake, back facing everybody as he drawls, âgreen lightâŠâ
before hongjoong even starts to enunciate the first word, yunho, wooyoung and jongho have already pushed off their skates to advance. it sets off an immediate chorus of indignant shouts and desperate acceleration amongst everybody else to catch up. you laugh and seonghwa drags you along with him urgently, unable to stand your apparent nonchalance and uncompetitiveness.
but oh, how wrong he is. very quickly, you join the majority of the boys in a game of who can be the most sneaky with dirty play. wooyoung and mingi tussle with one another right as hongjoong turns around with his yell of âred light!â, trying to topple the other over so they get caught. jongho yanks on the back of seonghwaâs jacket whilst yeosang giggles and joins in to yank on jonghoâs, effectively preventing all three of them from advancing forward.
âlet go of me, you brats!â seonghwa flails forward against the combined weight of the two boys but to no avail.
you use yunhoâs height to your advantage and hide behind him, steadily creeping forward even when hongjoong has turned around to face you all. yunho quickly catches on and extends his hands backwards for you to latch onto. you are more than happy to let him do all the hard work skating you both towards the captain and you grin cheekily at the trioâstill caught up in their self-induced tug-of-warâas you overtake them easily.
ây/nâs cheating!â san hollers, the only one who is actually playing by the rules.
âlifeâs not fair!â you holler back gleefully at the same time that hongjoong sniggers, âsan, you moved your mouth! go back.â
san gives an indignant cry, âfavouritism, i say!â but, bless his heart, moves back to the starting line regardless.Â
when yunho is almost towering over hongjoong, he cues you to get ready to escape by letting go of your hands. you pivot around and without waiting for anything else, you start to run away.
âgreeââ
yunho tags hongjoongâs right shoulder before pushing off to the left so that he escapes the otherâs immediate line of vision. except it means that the first person that hongjoong sees when he turns around is you.
an involuntary squeal escapes you when you hear the terrifying crispness of skates on ice right behind you followed by the captainâs arms snaking around your waist. âcaught you, babeâ he beams. hongjoong lifts you up with shit-eating smugness at your reactionâboth at his close proximity and the pet nameâspins you around for good measure, then sets you back down to chase after the others.
wooyoung skates in a wide arc to dodge the captainâs frenzied rampage, only to suddenly appear right beside you with the most telling glint in his sparkling eyes that he is up to mischief. he grins.
âwooyoung, no,â you warn.
he grabs you by the waist. âwooyoung, yes.â
wooyoung pushes off his skates with you in front of him at breakneck speed across the ice, bellowing at the top of his voice, âmake way for the cripples!â
you scream the entire way to the end of the lake, hands clutching onto his like a lifeline as a colourful string of words flies out of your mouth. you think you black out for a second because when you open your eyes again, you are in a heaving tangle of arms and legs on the cushiony surface of powdery snow.
âoh, shit,â hongjoong winces.
the boys speed towards you and wooyoung, and yunho peers down at you on the ground with panicked concern in his eyes. âare you two okay?â he asks but when he sees that you are laughing, unrestrained and radiating joy, yunho relaxes and joins in with relief.
theyâmainly seonghwaâfuss over you both enough to reassure themselves that there is not so much as a scratch or bruise, before mingi suggests playing a casual hockey game of five versus four. there are to be no goaltenders and san fashions makeshift goalposts by poking sticks into the snow on either ends of the lake.
the team splits into their usual arrangement when they are required to be in two groups; hongjoong, yunho, san and wooyoung; seonghwa, yeosang, mingi and jongho. normally, you would offer to be the honorary refereeâŠbut the boys have never been rough with you and you have confidence that you will not get hurt. so for the first time in years, you play.
it is far from a proper league game and it will never be enough to quench your thirst as a former athlete, but for now, gripping your stick on the ice in tandem with the others, you are contentâyou are alive.
like red light, green light, the game starts off fair and proper for a grand total of two minutes. then it becomes a circus of foul plays and increasingly creative methods of cheating as all sense of order is tossed out the window. yunho and san stand in front of you, leaving just enough space for you to handle the puck, whilst hongjoong and wooyoung flank your sides and use their sticks to block any attempts to steal the puck. as a shielded group of five, you all move up towards the goalposts like a formidable army tank.
in retaliation, jongho physically manhandles hongjoong out of the way, hugging him from behind with a vice grip that he swears not to let go. seonghwa, mingi and yeosang imitate him with similar displays of strength, turning the entire match into a childish scuffle of chaos and hysterics.
there are no proper rules, no proper gear and no proper stadiumâonly the bare minimum, yourselves and uncontainable laughter. it feels like you are kids again, little souls harbouring colossal dreams, running around on the fields with long branches and a pine cone you had found when you could not afford to go to a real rink.
it is like you have gone back in time to when all you knew about ice hockey from watching it on your television screen was that you had to get the puck into the goal. you and the boys are fresh, blank slates without a care in the world for the countless strategies and tactical plays that you have learned over the length of your careers.
without the pressures and routines of strict training regimes, you all reignite the very roots of your ardour and fervour for ice hockey. no longer is it about the scores and making it into the playoffs. no longer is it about winning the championships to gain the acknowledgement of other people. no longer is it about the trauma of betrayal, injury and defeat you have experienced.
playing is simply the thrill of skating liberally with no burdens across the ice. it is the feeling of thriving when your blade connects with the puck and sends vibrations up your arms. it is the rush of adrenaline as everyone moves in tandem with the same singular thought in your heartsâthat you love ice hockey with your entire lives. and that in itself is already more than enough, even without a gold trophy and championship title to prove it to yourselves.
for the last five years, the boys have had the leaves of their trees forcibly plucked and removedâby family, by coaches, and by injuriesâŠbut now?
it is time for their flowers to bloom.
spring, 2025: playoffs
standing off to the side, you watch your boys listening attentively to the reporter who is conducting an interview with them. you have continued to stay out of the media spotlight where possible, not yet entirely comfortable standing in front of the cameras again, but your boys have quickly grown accustomed to media coverage ever since their popularity gained traction thanks to their undefeated streak in the regular season.
the interviewer glances down at her prompt card before asking, âso tell me, what has been a major contribution to your success this season? your team has made a name for yourselves as the undefeated champions so farâquite a contrast to how you started off last season.â
seonghwa laughs cordially with her. âwe were getting used to a lot of changes last year so our teamwork and mentality wasnât the best,â he admits. âour agency gave us some time off to recalibrate, which really helped us to focus on building ourselvesâas individuals and as a team. i think we learnt to place our unconditional trust in one another and our coach. we still play with a dominantly offensive approach, but weâve been adopting different playing styles and experimenting with them, so this relies heavily on believing in each other.â
yunho nods, gesturing for the microphone to add, âas cliche as it may sound, a huge part of our growth was also learning how to accept loss. this wasnât just in the context of being defeated in the semifinals but in the wider lens of our past mistakes, relationships, and even situations that we could not change.
âit has been a tough journey for a lot of us over the last year, but we were lucky enough to have each otherâs support,â yunhoâs nostalgic smile reflects your own as you realise just how far both you and all of your boys have come. âonce we were able to let go, it meant that we could enjoy our career for what it truly isâplaying the sport of our dreams together, every day.â
the reporterâs ears perk up in interest at the segway to probe and she jumps on the opportunity to ask, âi am sure many of your fans have been curious for a long time. is there a special somebody who has supported youâor any of youâthroughout your journey?â
yunho passes the microphone to the hand that has extended out to reach for it. itâs san this time, who has a charmingly confident persona that he takes on whenever he answers questions during interviews. good thing too, because their fans are going to need something to distract them from understanding the confession he is about to make.
âthere is. we all do, actually,â his deep voice rolls off his tongue like butter. the way he smoothly talks with a flirtatious smirk never fails to make you swoon. âfunnily enough, we all met our girlfriend at about the same time.â
off to the side, wooyoung sends a wink in your direction and you have to muffle a snort with your hand and divert your glance away. the structural framework of the stadium ceiling suddenly looks very interesting. san stands there incredibly smug at his joke that he knows nobody but you and the boys will pick up on.
by the time you tune back into the conversation, the reporter has moved onto the next question. âlast year, you lost to the white tigers in the semifinals. how do you feel about facing them again later today?â
due to a spike in popularity, the korean ice hockey league had to divide its teams into two separate groups for the regular season matches this year. both the red devils and the white tigers had been placed in different groups and by some twist of fate, had ranked at the top and then seeded accordingly on either ends of the tournament brackets. now, your team faces theirs in the very last game of the season.
the finals.
âweâre quite excited, actually,â jongho responds. âwe have been wanting to play against the white tigers again some day and i donât think it gets any more fitting than meeting them in the finals. they have some incredible players but like seonghwa mentioned before, weâve been working hard to adjust our playing style to suit the situation. our coach has put in a lot of effort to hone in on our strengths and weaknesses, so no matter what todayâs outcome is, weâre confident that it wonât be an easy win for either team.â
âi am sure the finals is going to be a thrilling match. now, speaking of coaches,â the interviewer starts and you can see hongjoongâs hand twitching subtly at his side, ready to step in and deflect the question need be should it pertain to you.
she continues, âhow does it feel to play against your former coach?â
yeosang and mingi frown, unable to neutralise the confusion on their faces. hongjoong smiles calmly, ultimately taking over the microphone as he apologises, âsorry, could you please elaborate your question?â
it is the interviewerâs turn to fluster slightly but she nods quickly, âyou must not be aware, then.â
your eyes dart back and forth as you try to recall whether there is a crucial piece of information you have somehow missed or forgotten to tell the boys. the tone of her voice foreshadows something that makes the pit of your stomach churn.
âlast year, the white tigers had a stand-in coach, so you probably did not know.â she says her next words carefully and despite the bustling movement that fills the entire stadium, you can hear the exact moment all of your hearts drop.
âthe coach of the white tigers is coach yeon, your teamâs former coach in 2018âŠand heâs here today.â
you are the first to rush back into their locker room. frantically, you grab the official guide that had been given to you by the ice hockey league prior to the start of the regular season from out of your bag. you flip through it, team profiles upon team profiles blending into a hazy blur of faces as you find the one you are trying to look for.
ây/n,â somebody gently murmurs from behind you but you do not register their call. you continue to flick through the pages and when you find the profile for the white tigers, you scan the top of the page for a certain name with a shaky finger.
head coach: yeon ha joon
âoh my god,â you breathe out, hands lowering to your sides and gaze wavering. how the fuck had you managed to miss it this entire time?
you are not the only one affected by the revelation. the change room is pervaded by unease and restlessness, and wooyoung paces back and forth despite hongjoongâs attempts to get him to sit down. hongjoong himself cannot even remember how he answered the question about coach yeon, only that he had somehow excused themselves not long after to cut the interview short.
âhow is he still a coach?â seonghwa furrows his brows.
wooyoung stops pacing and your eyes are drawn to him when he suddenly blanches, âwhat if coach yeon is doing the opposite now and paying other teams to let his own team win?â
âno wayââ ââi wouldnât put it past himââ ââsurely not?â the boysâ voices overlap at the speculation.
it is a valid speculation based on what they have told you in the past about coach yeon. however, you stay quiet, suddenly aware of the fact that it is not something that would favour you should it be true. you gnaw the inside of your cheek because as much as you know that your boys would not suspect you, you still worry that doubt may cross their minds at one point, even if only briefly.
âunless the money he offered every single time was equivalent to the prize money, itâs highly unlikely the teams would have all accepted, right?â jongho points out.
yunho shrugs nonchalantly, âbut even if they did, we all know that coach yeon would never be able to bribe our girl.â
the way everybody immediately agrees expels some of the anxiety within you, filling you with reassurance and security that starts to relax your chest instead. wooyoung chooses that moment to finally sit down on the bench beside you. he adds, âweâre too whipped for you, so even if you were bribed, we would probably ask whether the money was enough and if you wanted more.â
san chucks a water bottle at him. despite yourself, you laugh and admit, âthat isâŠstrangely comforting.â
âsee,â wooyoung triumphantly boots the bottle back at the older. âshe gets it.â
seonghwa intercepts the pitiful bottle before it becomes weaponised and sets it down next to him. âshe wouldnât accept the money in the first place.â
âexactly, so why does any of this matter?â mingi suddenly questions.
yeosang knits his brows together as he states the obvious, âitâs coach yeon.â
âand?â mingi mirrors his expression with genuine confusion.
it is quiet in the locker room. the coach of the white tigers is indeed coach yeonâŠand so what? what exactly about the revelation has pushed you all to the edge of the cliff?
mingi cocks his head. âwhat iâm trying to say is, does it make any difference whether he is their coach or not? think about itâregardless of how he got his team to the finals, he has no unfair advantage over us. thereâs no way that he has bribed a fixed win in the finals, and he has no access to any insider knowledge that could jeopardise our tactics and plays.
âthe only leverage that he âhasâ is a psychological advantageâif we can even call it that. but weâre not the same boys who were too naive and powerless to do anything about it six years ago. if anything, we can easily turn this to work in our favour because i donât know about you guys, but iâm ready to drag his ass through the mud. what we said earlier about not caring for todayâs outcome? nah, fuck that. weâre going to fuck him up and show him that he messed with the wrong people.â
he takes everybodyâs silence as misunderstanding of his last statement and he hurriedly clarifies there is no violent intent, âby winning. fairly.â
âdamn,â jongho whistles. âyouâre onto something for once.â
mingi clambers over seonghwaâs legs to grab the forgotten bottle and it goes flying across the room with violent intent. âdude, what the fuck,â mingi grouses.
the dull thud that resounds when jongho holds sanâs leg pad up to block the projectile is enough to shift the mood in the room entirely. you finally relax into hongjoongâs side and he moulds you closer to him with the arm that he snakes around your waist as you both watch the locker room erupt into familiar pre-game mayhem.
yunho immediately scoops up the bottle and pitches it again. san stands to the side worrying over his poor leg pads as jongho uses them to bat the makeshift ball. his impressive accuracy makes you wonder whether they would have made it just as big as they are now had they formed a baseball team instead, but then yeosang narrowly dodges the bottle before it gives him a black eye, wooyoung cackles in the background, and you think better of it.
seonghwa joins you both on the bench and amongst all of the mischievous chaos and raucous laughter, you feel at peace, your hands clasped tenderly in the hands of your two captainsâin unity, trust and love. you affectionately squeeze their hands with unspoken conviction.
you know your boys are going to play well; you just have a good feeling.
the energy in the room spikes exponentially as you huddle together one final time before you walk out of the locker room, through the hallways and to the arenaâone final time before you step out to the ice rink as the red devils, playing in the final match.
you and your boys stand in a circle as close as it is physically possible with their bulky pads and game jerseys that they wear so proudly. it is indiscernible where one of you starts and where another ends from how intimately you all press together. your huddle is a woven nexus of arms and your hearts pound as one entity.
everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumnâŠand there is no victory without defeat. not a single one of your boys has made it this far without falling at least once, and the conscious thought makes your heart swell and your throat constrict with overwhelming emotion.
somehow, you manage to choke out, âi am so, so proud of all of you.â
yunho and seonghwaâs own eyes start to heat up with wetness. from your side, san kisses your temple with feather-like tenderness, âand weâre so proud of you. y/n, you have grown just as much as we have.â
âthank you for being our coach,â hongjoong murmurs into your ear from your other side, the tip of his nose softly nuzzling you.
wooyoung reaches out to thumb the round of your cheek, âand thank you for loving us when we found it difficult to love ourselves.â
you had always viewed your injury and career with anger, bitterness and anguishâŠbut you have finally come to terms with it. in the process of healing, you have learnt to love yourself, love eight other people, and to be loved. you have had your golden days as an athlete and you are now living your golden days as a coachâ
âthe very coach of the red devils, your team of boys who are living through their golden days as athletes, and you are going to lead them to victory in the finals.
swiping at a tear that slips down your cheeks, you grin. âboys, letâs win this match and then,â you pause as you meet their determined gazes, their smiles wide with uncontainable excitement, the tension in the room electrifying and palpable.
âletâs go international.â
you may have all fallen beforeâas athletes, as coaches, as a teamâbut you will always stand back up together, because at the end of the day your dream is theirs and their dream is yours. and like autumn, the leaves fall for a reason; they must fall before the spring flowers can bloom to their full beauty.
and bloom your flowers have.
ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)
read maknae line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 12.8k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n:Â this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months đ„Ž and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)
hongjoong
pov: you're the king's royal courtesan
âfuck,â hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. âyouâre just as tight as last timeâ
when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head
he canât help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness
âi thought- god,â a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, âthought you never fucked the same woman twiceâ
âi donât,â he simply says
and itâs true
hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness
he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls
hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans
itâs not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king
the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?
he never sees the same courtesan more than once
âyet here you are,â you hook your legs around hongjoongâs waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, âbetween my legs for the second timeâ
you smirk when he curses and throws his head back
his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low
âthe first time doesnât count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time iâm requesting for your servicesâ
he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck
you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status
part of the âhouse of flowersâ and commonly referred to as âflower courtesansâ, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer
you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you
lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services
it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another
whether the rumours about his stamina will be true
whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule
except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever
lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chaeâs fever would only serve to help make the kingâs dick warmer
lady shin is not amused to say the least
with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead
and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for
(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)
(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the âsluttiest setâ that she can find)
your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed
you tease in between short breaths, âare you really bringing up another womanâs name while you have your cock inside me?â
âyou brought it up first,â he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts
you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching
âwhy?â he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, âare you getting jealous already?â
for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too
âas if. fuck offâ
your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation
âiâm close,â hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour
when you hear him groan, âcum for me,â the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you
hongjoongâs hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you
he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you
hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants
when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, âyou better not be jealous. first one to get jealous losesâ
âif anyoneâs going to get jealous first, itâs you,â you scoff back
he raises an eyebrow
oh yeah?
he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm
now that shuts you up
for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the kingâs name
and another request turns into another
and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name
but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship
he asks you to teach him how to embroider because youâve mentioned before itâs how you like to spend your free evenings
he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring
you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which heâs upturning everything
âwhatâs this?â he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, âa necklace?â
âi wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,â you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings
he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with
you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the kingâs fingers are only good for scissoring you open
you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches youâre showing him
except, when you look up to see if heâs following?
his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and heâs leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you
âwere you even paying attention?â
he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all
in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet
he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke
he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times
you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway
there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too
(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)
you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you âdonât forgetâ about him when youâre not with him
when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shinâs interest as you walk past
âhongjoong taught me how to write my name todayâ
lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder
she laughs then asks to have a look
you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise
âthatâs not your name? these are the characters for- oh,â she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery
âwhat does it mean?â you hurry to clarify
you wouldnât put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like âbest titsâ or âbiggest assâ
lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you
âit says, my flowerâ
youâre looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later
lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her
âyou have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,â she informs you. âwould you like me to give him the usual answer?â
this isnât the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you
you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoongâs pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan
and as you open your mouth to tell her âyesâ, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall
my flower
you hesitate
âactually,â you look away from the hanja, âiâll see hongjoong.â
lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her
the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now
you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasnât learnt his basic stitches yet
(thatâll teach him to not pay attention when youâre demonstrating, ha)
you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway
and you find that heâs actually not that bad with embroidery once heâs actually focused on the task at hand
itâs nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours
not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy
and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day
âi actually have it on me, in fact,â and you take it out from where itâs tucked into your waist so that you can show him
he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, âitâs pretty, i guessâ
then as an afterthought he tacks on, âbet i could do a better jobâ
âare you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?â
said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again
âno iâm not!â
âwhatever you say,â you smirk
after that day though, you donât receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later
which, in the grand scheme of things, really isnât much
but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long
you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldnât have brought up the handkerchief gift
yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass
you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth
he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, âi have a surprise for youâ
you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone
guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed
âdo you trust me?â he whispers
trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, âof courseâ
you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift
you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air
and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoongâs soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing
âyou can look now,â he tells you
you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect
it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus
and you gasp
there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon
âtry it on,â he encourages
but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing
itâs patchy
itâs uneven
it has empty areas
but it is no doubt embroidery
âdid youâŠdid you make this?â you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you
âof course,â he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, âiâm not losing to a lousy handkerchiefâ
âis that why you disappeared for two weeks?â
you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing
he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him
upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, âi poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?â
you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, âthank you, joong. i love it so much, i really doâ
he looks at you impossibly soft
under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core
you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers
itâs almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue
so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth
you suck on them a little harder
a little deeper
and then you moan around his fingers, âi want youâ
he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches
âi- fuck, i didnât give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,â yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall
âi know, but i want you,â you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. âand i need you. now.â
he doesnât need further encouragement
he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds
it doesnât take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them
he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly
then heâs turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoongâs firm grasp
âfuck, youâre so wet,â his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you
the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room
and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name
he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers
he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs
when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs
a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter
âbe careful what pretty sounds youâre making if you canât handle another roundâ
it isnât until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that heâs been using this whole time
your mouth drops in disbelief
when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, âthe man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighsâ
âhongjoong!â you flush with a laugh. âyou are definitely jealous, arenât you?â
âyes, iâm fucking jealous,â he growls, âyouâre the only one i want. youâre the only woman iâve been requesting for since iâve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, tooâ
you confess, âwell, you can have all of me. because iâve started refusing other people just for youâ
he looks at you for another moment before heâs suddenly straddling your hips
âchange of plans,â he says breathily, âi need you againâ
âvery good plan,â you grind up against him
and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, âone last thing thoughâ
hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny
âthat handkerchief?â you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, âi never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chaeâ
seonghwa
pov: you're his royal guard
as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away
you murmur seonghwaâs name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the princeâs safety
one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear
they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear
from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits
seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though
unsurprising but still grating
the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside
albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left
it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term âmenâ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen
the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see
âmy companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?â the one with the map asks
âof course,â seonghwa offers with a kind smile
you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map
on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the princeâs belt
you catch the subtle motion of seonghwaâs eyes flickering down just an inch
because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention
but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isnât going to do anything about it either
so you strike in his stead
your hand darts out to snatch the thieveâs wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping
his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee
scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him
"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle
"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"
"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins
âmhm,â you hum, âand the next thing you know, youâll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with itâ
he levels you with a boyish scowl, âyouâre so dramatic. what are you, my mother?â
âno, but i am your royal bodyguardâ
âexactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be itâ
you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up
it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector
it has been almost four years since it happened
somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him
you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator
an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle
seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncleâs crimes warranted execution
to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned
you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement
it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him
as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision
âiâll be your sword,â you pledge
not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness
and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him
you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang
quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked
neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows
he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again
you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly
it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism
one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more
where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice
âyou should be more wary of others,â you always remind him
âand you should be more trusty of others,â heâll retort
yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with
where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield
you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike
you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status
and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someoneâs condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself
where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution
your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for
he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway
you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew
but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him
as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way
seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him
he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you
(âthatâs actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,â you tell him on more than one occasion)
(itâs adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)
you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with
after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you
not that heâs attracted to you or anything - you justâŠhave an objectively attractive face
yes.
especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies
he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a sirenâs song
seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck
except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness
the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth
you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you
needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping
but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it
like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers
it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects
conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room
everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon
when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet
and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls
baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting
âyou smuggled candy out of the room?â you try to keep the amusement out of your voice
he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed
as if they are-
âfor you!â he exclaims almost proudly. âi saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for youâ
okay
most definitely proudlyÂ
you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger
âwhen did you evenâŠâ your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to
âremember the paintings i pointed out?â seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. âi swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at themâ
âthank you, hwa,â you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else
that is more than enough for him, though
which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things
he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth
youâve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter
you wonder if his lips will taste the sameâŠ
but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind
because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow
how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?
so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship
you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation
seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together
itâs strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart
he wonders whether itâs possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of
and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhapsâŠ
in love with you
following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around
but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts
until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace
seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytailÂ
then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder
you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-
until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land
it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemyâs exposed side
when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief
âwhat in the world were you thinking?â you yell
âi-â
taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, âno, actually. you werenât thinking at allâ
âi was afraid that you would get hurt!â he takes his own step closer
âthat is my duty!â the volume of your voice raises even more. âi am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?â
for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing
seonghwa swallows
âmy feelingsâŠâ he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. âmy feelings for you have changedâ
your throat tightens at his words
it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips
he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes
âiâd rather be the protector, and you be the protectedâ
âbutâŠwhy?â your heart races with anticipation
âbecause iâm in love with youâÂ
right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response
âthen that makes the two of us,â you confess
you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop
you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side
raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips
it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile
you canât help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him
âfrom now on,â seonghwa starts, âiâll be your swordâ
you wouldnât really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesnât stop one last teasing question from escaping you
âdoes this mean i get to retire?â
yunho
pov: you're part of a rebel group
the crown prince is not in his fucking library
for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night
until today
under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing
except doing that would make your job significantly harderâŠ
considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.
youâre part of the âred sunâ, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch
following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash
a leash made of barbed wire
people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline
although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queenâs
within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters
the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination
dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners
and you are amongst the elite team
which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince
except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong
which never happens
you canât risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine
he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards
you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave
only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof
their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same
you run
you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room
when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs
this game of cat and mouse isnât going to work for long
if you donât get caught by him first, youâre both going to get caught by the palace guards
so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower
keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump
you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees
then you wait
heâs good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground
âstate your purpose,â he demands, voice low yet firm
you ignore him to ask, âwho are you?â
now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-
wait
even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same
the same as those on the elite team
âone of you,â he confirms your suspicions
except you donât recognise his voice nor his build
being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours
he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet
when you donât speak, he adds on, âwe need to go. the safehouse might be in dangerâ
we
he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team
you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him
âwhen is red most beautiful?â
it is a vague question with a fixed answer
one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself
during the sunrise of a new beginningÂ
âduring the sunrise of a new beginning,â the man says resolutely
the tension releases from your shouldersÂ
âokay,â you opt to abandon your original mission. âletâs check on the safehouseâ
the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease
you both flip over the top and land in unison
the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest
the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols
you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps
and then you hear it
the shattering clang of a desperate parry
all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut
youâre both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and itâs not from your drawn swords
bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you
several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury
itâs easy to spot the intruder; theyâre yanking their sword out of a bodyâs torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you
and itâs hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate
you have the element of surprise
but only for the next few seconds
you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing
thereâs a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed
you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them
except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away
the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive
but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them
you.
you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword
the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness
in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam
you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemyâs grasp still on your hand
but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling
âcheck on the others,â he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder
you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground
you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries
there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse
which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks
how did he know about the attack in the first place?
you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him
exceptâŠthe man has disappeared
and so has the intruderâs body
days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library
you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise
this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line
you spot him
heâs preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments
you wait until heâs walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer
you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles
and there the crown prince stands
he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy
mercy that you have no intention of showing him
the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none
âitâs you again, isnât it?â
you freeze
the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you
âyou were here a few days agoâ
fuck
how he knows you have no idea
what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well
the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy
âyou are part of red sun, are you not?â
this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isnât the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel
it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does
what the actual fuck
youâre convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy
âi am,â you spit out at him, âwith orders to assassinate you, in factâ
his mouth thins into a tight line, âthe orders you have received are falseâ
âsounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,â you scoff
but then his next words change everything
âred is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginningâ
before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince
âhide,â he hisses urgently
and then heâs stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible
you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where youâre crouched behind a bookshelf
âapologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,â they say
from where you are you can see the crown princeâs expression clear as he lets out a small huff, âi have told you many times to just call me yunhoâ
âof course, crown prince yunhoâ
even though you canât see the other personâs expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice
they continue, âi have the information you have requested forâ
âthank you,â you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. âthe queen does not know?â
âno, i made sure to be as discreet as possibleâ
yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them
is this the same crown prince as the rumours?
and what is he doing behind his motherâs back?
you donât realise youâve been staring dumbly at him until heâs back in front of you with amusement on his face
he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility
âwho exactly are you,â you dare to ask
your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you
but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level
âi am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolutionâ
your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor
because how is any of this possible?
you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you
it makes you feel so strange
the crown princeâs willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier
yunho starts to explain
a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people
thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined
in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning
a new leadership
except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked
âthat nightâŠthat man was you,â you realise, âand thatâs how you know who i amâ
he nods, âand thatâs also how i know your orders are false.â yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, âpretty sure i never ordered for my own assassinationâ
yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained
he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence
âhang on,â you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry
yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, âwoah okay, this is moving a little fast donât you think?â
you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look
yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-
âa suicide pill?âÂ
you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing
the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like
youâre both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves
but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb
itâs a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar
yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given
whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well
there isnât much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho
but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends
you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence
except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle
other times he is the one trying to fluster you
âremember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-â
âi was taking the pill out to show you!âÂ
you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap
âi am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after allâ
he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, âoh please spare me, your majestyâ
other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on
âbet itâs because youâre ugly or something,â he jokes
and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so youâre one to talk, ugly
âbut since then iâve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,â he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupidâs brow. âwhat do you think about me now?â
you swallow hard
youâre glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up
âi thinkâŠâ you gently cup his jaw, âyou look better with your mask on,â as you nudge his face to the side
you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee
and eventually, you two have a breakthrough
yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine
in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of âlee minjunâ
âiâm sure iâve seen the name before somewhere, but i canât remember where,â yunho huffs
you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder
pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two
they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious
âi noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. itâs almost like the paper was accidentally markedâ
you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea
he doesnât - not at first
not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image
âthis-â yunho runs his hand through his hair, âthis is butler leeâs stamp. my fatherâs butler.â
the kingâs butler?
lee?
your eyes snap to yunhoâs, just as his meet yours
âlee minjunâ
you sink back in your seat
thereâs now definite proof that the kingâs butler is at the very least involved
the question of why and what for remains
in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too
there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future
yunho breaks the silence first
âafter this all endsâŠdo you want to work for me, officially?â he clears his throat, âwill you stay by my side?â
after this all ends
you two must still uncover butler leeâs motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too
you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne
the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon
the new beginning is close
and at that, something in you relaxes
crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief
âit would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunhoâ
and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once
ironically, yunho chokes on air
you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes
you think your eyes are deceiving you because-
the tips of his ears are a glowing red
you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess
the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, âlike what you see?â
âyou should really keep your hood and mask on,â he mumbles
âand why is that?â you humour him
he finally looks at you
and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours
âbecause,â his voice deep and flirtatious, âwith a pretty face like that, youâre going to distract me from my dutiesâ
yeosang
pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him
ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parentsâ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang
it just made sense
for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies
it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding
so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love
and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned
if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang
he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you donât miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room
he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyardÂ
they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger
you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, âhe looks stupidâ
if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now
you stifle a laugh as you flick juwonâs chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy
if anything, youâre pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid
stupidly in love
because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince
unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing
it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world
but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written
the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace
it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage
you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter
whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words
whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him
two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom
and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter
your whole life you have been able to wait patiently
you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity
the day yeosangâs letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace
even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him
nothing can bring you down from cloud nine
onlyâŠthe letter never comes
not the day after, not the week after, not the month after
youâre disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you donât give up
you send him another letter, and then another, and another
sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said
other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fearsÂ
and you also wonder about him
you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are
with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits
you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a replyÂ
until-
you do.
it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile
with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelopeâs contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded
your mind races with anticipated words and explanations
perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier
or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit
you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-
stop sending me letters.
and just like that, the clock strikes twelve
your carriage reverts into a pumpkin
and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes
you donât write to him again.
years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them
they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son
now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife
really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can
you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed
she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, âdid you buy that?â
âno,â you reach out to touch the babyâs breath, âsomeone delivered it to my roomâ
you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you
âwhy?â you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully
âit looks just like the vase in my brotherâs room, but heâs weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have itâ
you blanch a little, âin that case iâll give it back to him later thenâ
âyou donât like it? orâŠyou donât like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,â she reveals
caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before
you donât specify by what exactly or who it is that youâre talking about, but she seems to understand regardless
later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosangâs room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, âwhat did you do to make her upset?â
before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, âyou boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,â and then walks out with a huff
thereâs no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway
heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning
the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosangâs palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting
you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again
if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish
âyour highness,â the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, âhow may we help you?â
when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none
âbut we can make you one now, if you do not mind waitingâ
you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, âi just thought there may have been leftover pastriesâ
âwe make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,â the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, âhis highness has expressed that you may like themâ
oh?
flustered, you can only muster a short response of, âi do, thank you,â before you smile once more and excuse yourself
because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?Â
first the vase, and now this
you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud
your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like itâs too much
when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky
youâre tired of fearing rejection if you open up
youâre tired of questioning yeosangâs intentions
and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-
âare you okay?â
yeosangâs soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door
he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, âwhatâs wrong?â
thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind
you start with half truths
âjust missing my little brotherâ
âyou love him a lot, donât you,â yeosang smiles sweetly, âi can see it in the way you take care of yeoreumâ
you canât help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that heâs noticed all the times youâve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon
it implies heâs noticed you
âwhatâs your fondest memory of juwon?â he asks when you nod
something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brotherâs name
you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently
âwe used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,â you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, âit drove our mother nutsâ
âdoesnât sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?â yeosang questions with mirth
âno, it didnât,â your heart aches with fondness. âhe would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mindâÂ
it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b
yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes
when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly
âi know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because youâve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?â
you donât admit it, but youâre already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, âare you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?â
âoh, well, weâd be doing things a little backwards since weâre already like, marriedâŠbut, yes? maybe? is that okay?â
itâs yeosangâs turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you donât notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky
âyeah, thatâs okayâ
you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance
itâs kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences
you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but youâre unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him
the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters
because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up
as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeperâs dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore
âwhy didnât you reply to my letters?â you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice
yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open
and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says
âyou wrote me letters?â
your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception
âtoo many to count,â you confess, âuntil you sent a letter telling me to stopâŠâ
âimpossible. i never got your lettersâÂ
your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, âbut-â
âwait,â he interrupts
yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, âdo you recognise this?â
upon closer inspection, you realise itâs a square seal stamp
it has the character âć§â carved into it and youâve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar
ânot the seal, noâ
he swallows apprehensively, âi stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticityâ
you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment
âbut then-â
but then who wrote the letter?
and where did all your letters go?
the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers andâŠeunju
a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile
no, not a smile, you realise
a smirk
you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness
yeosang doesnât push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful
âiâm sorry for doubting you,â you tell him
itâs nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately
âno, iâm sorry you felt the need to doubt me,â he offers. âthat i didnât make you feel loved enoughâ
âbut i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last nightâŠand even todayâ
he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers
âyou werenât meant to find out about the first two,â yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly
then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought
he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, âmy sister said i did something to upset youâŠso i um, got you theseâÂ
he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously
âforgive me?â he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around
âif you insist,â you take the bouquet into your hands
and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, âi canât say no to my husband, can i?â
yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers
you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know
eight flowers
eight letters
i l-o-v-e y-o-u
asking boyfriend!ateez to buy you pads
genre: ot8 x fem!reader, crack, fluff, fake texts
c/w: the boys are trying their best okay, swearing, crude language, pet names
a/n: bc the only way to get through shark week đŠđ©ž is to pretend boyfie ateez will (try to) take care of you đâïž also in other news i got rear-ended the other day LOL @sorryimananti-romantic can confirm the other driver was st00pid
taglist: at the end
apply for taglist | unable to be tagged
@thecarnivaloflies @binchanluvrr @ifykyunho @ppprimary @itza-meee
@lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop @ayytease
@hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent @darkmentalitystarfish-blog
@taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi @itstheghostofmypast
@kiki277 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia
@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @delulu18
@teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @fureastel @seomisaho @levishun
@readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds @apriecotte @smally97 @savluvsmingi
@pixie0627 @kyeos4ng @yunhowooyo @yeehawnana @telail
@drinkingrumandcocacola @iykyunho @myblovedjyh @enhacracy @satsuri3su
ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)
genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes
length: 13.8k
c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)
a/n: this oneâs for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone whoâs sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 𫶠loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk đâïž merry christmas y'all
hongjoong
the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it
itâs a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt
there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse
and this whole âateezâs mob boss couple decorates the gangâs old warehouse for christmasâ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesomeâŠ
if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy
âwhyâd you stop, kitten?â hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks
when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isnât toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants
âhmm? whatâs wrong?â he asks teasingly
your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting
gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, youâre unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you
but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you
hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand
you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking
until he begs for you
letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingiâs one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas
hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground
âoops,â you drawl coquettishly
you bend over to pick up jonghoâs stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoongâs cock with the curve of your ass
you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest
a hand comes to rest just below your waist, âyouâre playing with fire right now, kittenâÂ
âlooks like we need a littleâŠwater to put it out, then,â you press back against him once more
he snaps
itâs not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you
he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you
âfuck, kitten,â he mouths the side of your neck, âyouâre already stretched out and ready for my cockâ
your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction
sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-
you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls
hard.
âkim hongjoong!â an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside
another clang, this time closer towards the entrance
thereâs not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two werenât exactly expecting hostile visitors
âyou think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?â hongjoong asks
âif you can cum in the next ten seconds, sureâ
a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes
just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open
âyou killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!â
âwho are you again?â hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jonghoâs long-forgotten stocking on the floor. âyouâll have to remind me.â
numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings
you look away with disinterest; itâs nothing you and hongjoong canât take care of
âkyungseok,â the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. âyou killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.â
at his last word, it finally clicks
âah,â hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, âthe one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with itâ
meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations
you direct your question at the man behind you, âwhat do you think, kyungtaek?â
âitâs kyungseok,â he snarls
you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoongâs jaw as you praise, âthese look wonderful, babeâ
you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement
hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick
âif we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,â he winks
then you two move
in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other
the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious
realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand
âweapons? thatâs not very fair,â you purr
you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm
twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor
âoh dear,â you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat
vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name
âduck!â
you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby
you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack
âfuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the platesâ
he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, âsorry, kittenâ
the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor
heâs too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend
âduck,â you tease
hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind
moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet
the manâs arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him
you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter
âoops?â hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittallyÂ
stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone
most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself
âhey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,â yunhoâs voice sounds over the receiver
âoh,â you hum contemplatively, âis anyone else still on their way?â
âprobably wooyoung. you know him, heâs always late,â he chuckles into the phone, âwhy?â
âcan you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while heâs at itâ
thereâs a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you
âwhat was that?â yunho startles
hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter
âjust hongjoong having some funâ
when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseokâs temple
youâre not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking
the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him
hongjoong scoffs, âmerry fucking christmasâ
and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the manâs mouth
itâs finally silent
ânow,â he turns to you, âwhere were we before we wereâŠinterruptedâ
at hongjoongâs predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you
he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes
you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat
heâs in front of you now
âlooks like iâll have to prepare you again, kittenâ
his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-
âheard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!â
his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse
wooyoung is fucking early.
youâre quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof
âwow,â wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed
hongjoongâs clenched fists are white
uncaring of his leaderâs lack of response, wooyoung continues, âwhen you told us the dress code was red, i didnât think you meant this kind of redâ
he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseokâs body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, ârad decorationsâ
you watch in amusement as hongjoongâs last string snaps
âwooyoung,â he says evenly
it goes in one ear and out the other
wooyoung looks around as he asks, âcan i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?â
âjung wooyoungâ
said man finally blanches
good thing too
because you donât think hongjoong is joking when he says,
âif you donât get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.â
seonghwa
âremember, as soon as i leave-â
âi need to lock the door,â you finish seonghwaâs sentence cheekily
he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, âand if you feel like anything is off-â
âcall you or hongjoong straight away,â you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time
despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwaâs neverending protectiveness and worry for you
with his line of work, it isnât easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment
he understands though
itâs only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now
under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again
it doesnât mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side
but itâs okay - baby steps
âiâll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,â he kisses your temple sweetly, âsee you later, loveâ
you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave
he motions for you to close the door and you know he wonât leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it
so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood
he thinks you donât know that he does it, and you wonât admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment
but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor
you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back
he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home
you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom
he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness
and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house
because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before
you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six
your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside
half an hour passes just like that but thereâs still no sign of seonghwa
thatâs okay, you tell yourself
you understand that he doesnât have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes
sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
again.
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
you glance up at the clock
itâs seven
you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life
no notifications
you try to quell the growing panic inside of you
but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home
what if something went wrong?
what if he is hurt?
what if he is missing?
what if he isâŠdying?
you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers
7:24 PM
the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden
you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwaâs name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone
the call rings and rings and rings
âthe person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-â
your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs
you havenât had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop
but you donât hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial
hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, âhey, is everything alright?â
you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, âis hwa still there?â
thereâs some rustling in the background
âhwa? no, he left almost two hours agoâ
your stomach lurches dangerously
you donât realise youâve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone
âtake a breath for me,â he soothes, âwhatâs wrong?â
âhe said heâd be back by six,â your eyes start to well with the tears youâve been suppressing. âheâs still not homeâ
hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base
then his voice filters through the speakers again, âweâre going to look into this, okay? everythingâs going to be fine. youâve done a good job letting me knowâ
with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call
yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation
âseonghwaâs missing,â hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the otherâs phone location
san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim
he holds up seonghwaâs phone in his hand, âhe forgot to take it with himâ
hongjoong curses lowly, âpark fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isnât already dead by now, he will be when i find himâ
he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa
you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again
what you do know is that youâre not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger
your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class
he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage
sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself
because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever
but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down
and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder
just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling
itâs not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful
exactly how an intruder would open a door
you know you do not have a choice
you have to protect yourself
slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath
the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open
your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are
amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity
âŠnow.
with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruderâs head
hongjoongâs phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring
but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper
âhongjoong, he- heâs hereâ
âshit,â hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, âwho? are you okay? are you safe?â
âoh no,â your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, âheâs awakeâ
âweâre close, hang in there- fuckâ hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off
wooyoung doesnât need to be told - he floors the car
the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs
as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open
a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns
with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room
âmove and iâll blow your fucking brains out,â he commands
âhongjoong?â
said man falters
thatâs not your voice
âthe fuck?â
of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them
because seonghwa is in the living room
sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it
but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking
something on hongjoongâs face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension
âsurprise?â
wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter
seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, âi bought donuts?â
when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels
âtheyâre shaped like reindeers and elvesâŠtheyâre limited editionâŠâ seonghwaâs voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave
because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile
well, surprise you he did
itâs not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that itâs actually your boyfriend
âiâm sure they are very cute, hwa,â you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, âthank youâ
and you really do mean it
seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh
he looks haughtily at the other three men, âat least somebody appreciates themâ
and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him
âiâll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because itâs christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,â the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave
but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark
âthey better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts youâll ever eatâ
you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio
âhowâs your head feeling now?â you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump
âmuch better,â his eyes twinkle, âall it needs now is your kissâ
you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, âno kisses. thatâs for scaring meâ
he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out
you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens
âwell, letâs find out if these are the best fucking donuts weâll ever eatâ
seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you
but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an âoâ
and then his shoulders sag once more
seonghwa wails
and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag
âthe donuts are all squished!â
yunho
âJ, can you take a look at my sniper? i think somethingâs wrong with the scopeâ
you dog-ear the page of the file youâre scanning through to look up at yunho
âiâm pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-â
âcause i canât seem to take my sight off you,â he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe
you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off
unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, âwant to see my gun? iâve got a pretty big oneâ
you hum, âiâve seen it plenty times, nothing newâ
his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further
yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, âthen can i put my gun in your holster?â
you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself
(you donât really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)
(you can pretend if itâs for him)
âremind me again why youâre my boyfriend?â
âcause i shoot my load into you,â he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground
immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist
one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it
âwhat do you want, you big puppy,â your voice comes out muffled
yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter
BP as in Big Puppy
âi miss you,â he admits
you pull away and shake your head, âyou see me every day, yunho. we work togetherâ
âyeah, and iâm sick of work cockblocking us,â he says with finality
yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge
you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours
âi miss you,â he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, âand itâs christmas. relaxâ
âyou talk too much,â you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss
his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt
your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest
his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back
you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase
a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core
âyou like that?â yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. âbet youâd like to ride my thigh until you cumâ
youâre about to hook your legs around his waist when thereâs a yell from the doorway
yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door
wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, âcan you guys get a room or close the door at least?â
âor you can stop walking in on us,â yunho suggests with a red face
but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, âPB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!â
yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor
âdonât tell me youâre going to read your stupid files again,â he groans
âwell, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,â you retort
âthen good thing iâve already asked him for permission to take you out todayâ
he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly
âwhat do you mean?â
yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, âletâs go on a dateâ
and thatâs how you find yourself wrapped up in yunhoâs coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that youâd be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night
it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe
âthis is a date?â you had groused
yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation
âthen do tell me why you took your sniper along,â you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. âyou want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?â
yunho grins down at you
âyou think iâm sexy when i snipe people?â
you roll your eyes at his selective hearing
(you think heâs always sexy)
at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you
âput them in,â he tells you before you can even ask what theyâre for
when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears
watch me, he gestures with his hands
and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance
you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath
then he shoots
you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle
and then he shoots again
you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger
because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex inâŠother places
you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine
he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees
with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor
âlook through the scope!â
you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunhoâs earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles
hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it
and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise
âyunho!â you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing
because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building
âis this meant to be romantic?!â
contrary to your tone, you donât think you have ever found your deadly 6â1â sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now
he preens with the widest smile on his face, âyeah!â
you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug
âi donât think iâll be forgetting about this christmas for a whileâ
âyou better not forget about it ever,â he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side
âthank you,â you tell him sincerely, âi love youâ
he peppers your face with kisses, âi love you tooâ
distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported
âi guess thatâs our cue,â he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder
âour cue to do what?â you allow him to lace his fingers through yours
âour cue to fucking leg itâ
and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it
yeosang
âget some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it allâ
you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party
itâs nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang
yeosang sidles up to you to ask, âready to go?â
as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where heâs sitting on a chair
it seems like the two of you have gotten quiteâŠclose recently
not that you two werenât already close before
and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard
except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking
but then youâre giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that heâs just looking into things a bit too much
âyeah,â hongjoong gets up from his seat, âletâs goâ
once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwaâs shopping list
youâve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles
the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that itâs just yeosang
heâs looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile
âyouâre hopeless,â you tell him because you know exactly what he wants
âhopelessly in love,â he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression
you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isnât around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips
yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didnât literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses
you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline
âi donât think santa needs rudolph this year,â you tap his nose affectionately, âyouâre much brighterâ
as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you
ây/n? yeosang?â
hongjoongâs voice is frighteningly close and youâre pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over
grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother
âthere you two are,â hongjoong frowns, âwhat took you two so long?â
you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, âsorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic platesâ
except hongjoong doesnât think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back
âwhy am i carrying the backpack,â he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latterâs motorbike
yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, âiâve already got a cute little backpackâ
âwell that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldnât she sit behind me- hey!â
you press yourself closer against yeosangâs back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust
your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two
and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list
yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door
the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up
thatâs how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen
âmistletoe?â hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, âthe fuck for?â
seonghwa shrugs vaguely, âthe couplesâ
âthe only couple i see is the couple of losers over thereâ
hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!
except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow
âsnowball fight!!ââ
itâs not snowing heavily but thereâs a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee
and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard
even during snowball fights
jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair
(no oneâs entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but heâs having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)
hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoungâs snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you
he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around
it doesnât matter if theyâre thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you
somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact
he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group
now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you
but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously
he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together
he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him
youâre a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning
you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesnât help that heâs looking at you with the most tender eyes
âmerry christmas,â he murmurs with a smile, âi love youâ
the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss
one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow
jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosangâs exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a littleâŠpreoccupied right now
he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but youâve also managed to grab hongjoongâs attention
said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang andâŠyou?
youâre both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?
right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face
hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball
why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea
but itâs not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction
âŠwhere you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels
hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination
because surely he wouldâve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating
seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief
that is
until wooyoung very helpfully points out, âwhy are yeosangâs lips all glossyâ
you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel
like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother
his back is turned, body eerily still
most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver
then mingi also helpfully tacks on, âit looks like he kissed y/n or somethingâ
at his words, hongjoongâs arms start to move again
he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, âinterestingâ
yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, âif we leg it right now, do you think it will noticeâ
it starts to stand up from its crouching position
â...i think it will, yeoâ
hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands
whatâs different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling
you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight
hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon
âsnowballs?â he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression
âafter today,â his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosangâs nether region, âno ballsâ
san
you donât need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are
you are a mouse walking into the lionâs den
the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life
now here you are, walking back into crescentâs base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later
and yet, you are not afraid
your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game
minsu, crescentâs mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building
they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight
you already knew this, though
you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason
âahh, merry christmas, darling,â minsu drawls saccharinely, âhas santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?â
his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room
thereâs a face sitting in the corner that haunts you
the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang
the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs
you realise now that it was a set-up all along
there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang
it was - is - crescent against you
looking back at minsu now, you address him, âwhy did you betray meâ
he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops
âwe saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,â he spits out sanâs name, âand after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicionsâ
he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall
itâs all bullshit though
you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other
without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought sanâs help
âso what are you doing back here, darling?â minsu stands up
he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, âto beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriendâs life?â
the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsuâs mocking tone
but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray
âi donât think weâll be the ones begging by the end of the nightâ
a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along
the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side
the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you
âhey, sweetheartâ
the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words
âchoi san,â minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence
the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up
because theyâre not foolish
they know sanâs reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him
and by extension-
more footsteps resound behind you
-the rest of ateez
you may be a mouse walking into the lionâs den
but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den
minsuâs face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in
and so do several others, it seems
you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building
for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation
san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest
the sounds of the cowardsâ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground
from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity
âanyone else want to give that a try?â san taunts
no one answers
hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees
âa gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,â he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response
hongjoong continues, âas much as crescent isnât worth my time, i donât really feel like waiting for that day to comeâ
before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsuâs head
the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple
ateez do not need a further command
all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on
he winks as he quips, âweâll probably be on santaâs naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch youâll get away with it, sweetheartâ
san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised
so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others
he doesnât really care about most of the crescent lackeys
he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine
who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang
and that motherfucker minsu
san is going to make them regret hurting you
san is going to make them wish they were never born
he advances towards them with deceptive calmness
minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically
heâs only alive because none of the members have bothered with him
san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you
easily evading the manâs frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the otherâs temple
the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear
âi would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,â san grips the manâs jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, âbut i donât want to touch your filthy mouthâ
instead, san drags the dagger across the gang memberâs throat
blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the manâs fingers make futile attempts to grasp sanâs hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead
but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long
san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu
âyour turn,â san smirks
whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsuâs hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain
san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach
minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop
âwhat did i say,â san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, âit wouldnât be me or my sweetheart begging tonightâ
minsuâs animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot
san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, âyouâll never have to worry about crescent ever againâ
âthank you, san,â you sink into his embrace
youâll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you
âi said that i would protect you, didnât i, sweetheart?â
he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly
you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes
âi want to kiss you,â san suddenly confesses, âcan i kiss you?â
a teasing smile tugs at your lips, âitâs christmas. shouldnât you kiss me under a mistletoe?â
san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gangâs base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling
when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest
you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsuâs body
âi can cut his foot off,â san tells you with determination, âthen weâd have a minsu-toeâ
amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at sanâs words
âi canât believe you,â you let out your own laugh
âsoâŠâ san beams, âis that a yes?â
âfuck the mistletoe,â you laugh as you pull him forward, âjust kiss me alreadyâ
and kiss you he does
mingi
for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow
even if itâs christmas eve today and itâs the first snowfall of the year
you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, youâve barely had any customers
admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street
but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks
youâve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps
sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors
your breath hitches when you recognise who it is
itâs him
the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore
it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang
his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does
âhey,â mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face
your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, âmingi, hi, hey, i wasnât expecting you to come todayâ
you internally cringe at your own words
you hope he doesnât pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days
he peers around hesitantly at your words, âshould i, uh, go?â
one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what youâre doing
âno- i meant,â you lick your lips, âitâs a nice surpriseâ
mingiâs shoulders relax
âi heard some areas lost power because of the snow,â he starts to explain, âso i thought iâd come to check on you- your barâ
your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words
fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, âwell, i still got power-â
just as it fizzles and dies
the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence
startled, you jump slightly
you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingiâs hand naturally finds your searching ones
he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, âiâve got youâ
you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh
âwell,â you look up at him, âlooks like business is closed for the nightâ
his eyebrows knit together in concern, âare you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a personâ
he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, âor they could probably fix your whole areaâŠyeah thatâs a better idea, wouldnât want you getting singled out or anythingâ
youâre not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections
âyou can do that?!â you gawk
mingi blinks twice as if to say, you canât?
laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand thatâs still holding yours to tell him that itâs okay
âi wasnât getting customers anyway,â you reassure
selfishly, mingi is glad that you werenât busy
because it means that he can have you all to himself
âdo you want to stay for a bit?â you offer, âitâs probably not safe to leave with all the snowâ
mingi is a member of a mafia gang
snow is the least of his worries
but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway
he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that thereâs another step and the doorwayâs a little low
it doesnât matter that youâve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug
instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping
in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip
usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep
but it seems like itâs a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget
so you take him to the small room youâve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life
hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found
you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands
mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background
grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy
you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you
the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing
mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body
âcome here,â he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it
he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too
mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity
âbetter?â he asks after a while
untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you
silence falls upon you two
itâs not uncomfortable
but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side
âitâs pretty, isnât it,â he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window
âit isâŠâ
âŠwith you here
âyou know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?â he nudges you softly
you chew on your bottom lip
shyly, you offer, âthat if you confess your love it becomes true,â at the exact same time mingi says-
âthat you shouldnât eat the snow for the first hour or twoâ
you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, âh-how come?â
âthe snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first fallsâ
the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all
slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say
mingi saves you though
he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight
âmerry christmas, y/n,â he says tenderly
âmerry christmas, mingiâ
you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end
âdid you have anything you wanted for christmas?â you ask him
he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, âthere was someone i wanted to seeâ
heâs looking ahead, and from where youâre sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile
youâve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful
âdidâŠdid you get to see them?â youâre unsure why youâre holding your breath in anticipation
he doesnât answer straight away
thereâs a beat of silence
then heâs slowly turning his head with a gentle smile
âyeah,â he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, âyeah, i didâ
with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself
he confesses
âand i still amâ
wooyoung
wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge
he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing
at this point, you donât even bat an eye
he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift
âso,â wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, âwhy are you working on christmas eve?â
you tilt your head, confused
âwhy shouldnât i be working on christmas eve? and why arenât you working? donât you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?â
âno? because itâs christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,â he frowns as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world
you didnât realise the mafia celebrated christmas too
apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms
âŠa little too defensively for you to take him seriously
âi didnât know you were the mafia police,â he grumbles, âyou gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?â
you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, âsorry, you guys just seem like-â
you think better of your words and pause
âseem like what?â
ânothingâ
âwhat? tell me what you were going to say!â
he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent
âyou guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existenceâ
he stares at you
you stare at him
âyou have three seconds to run,â he tells you
and run you do
filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks
you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms
sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve
âi get paid almost double for working today,â you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier
you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, âplus, i canât just take holidays when i want toâ
it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground
âwhy not?â
âbecause my boss wonât let meâ
âoh. thatâs it?â
âtHaTâs iT? shut the fuck up,â you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers
he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks
hah.
this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you
and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation
(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if youâre honest, youâre pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)
youâre sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second
you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle
thereâs still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoungâs raised eyebrow
then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers
âŠor not-customers, you suppose
honestly, you should really be used to this by now
two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place
you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, âthey wouldnât happen to be some of your friends, right?â
wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, ânopeâ
âwell, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?â
âare you kidding me? theyâve got gunsâ
âyouâre part of the mafia. youâre telling me you donât have one on you?â
he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms
âthe only guns i got are these bad boysâ
the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously
âget in the car,â one of them snarls
wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door
he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint
youâre going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive
his stupid gang better be real good at finding people
the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say
itâs spacious and well-cushioned
at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one
the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator
âjesus christ! can you drive any faster?â wooyoung yells
you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror
what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?
the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung
oh shit shit shit-
he raises a hand
heâs going to shoot wooyoung-
and pulls off his mask
âthatâs not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoungâ
âsan?!â you screech in recognition
âhi again, darling,â san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay
the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, âhi, iâm mingi!â
you are absolutely incredulous
âyou staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?â
wooyoung looks overjoyed, âso you can enjoy christmas eve!â
youâre not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation
âyou do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?â
âdonât worry. jongho has connections with the police,â san reassures you
âwhat about the security footage?â
âhongjoong jammed the feed so thereâs none,â mingi pipes up
âmy boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shiftâ
ânah,â wooyoung waves away your concern this time, âheâll be out of commission for a solid week or soâ
now that catches your attention
sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, âwhat did you guys do to my boss?â
wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you
âyeosang may have, uh, knocked him outâ
at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, âwe made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while heâs out cold!â
âyouâre insufferable,â you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation
âjust for you,â wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly
you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you donât pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand
âmerry christmas eve,â he beams at you
thereâs the faint sound of someone gagging
wooyoungâs adoring gaze doesnât leave you, not even as he kicks the back of sanâs chair hard
you laugh, truly happy and free, âyou know iâm still going to get fired for this, right?â
thereâs silence
âwell,â wooyoung contemplates
and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made
but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung
âdoes this mean we get to spend christmas together then?â
jongho
jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks
his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him
they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms
after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?
pathetic
their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears
several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground
elsewhere, you notice that itâs nearly time for you to clock out
itâs christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole
double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise
pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout
your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you
the blood coursing through your veins freezes
because you know these names
these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes
theyâre all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes
but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only youâve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago
your fatherâs death
jongho and his gang have made sure that your fatherâs murderer has paid the price with his own life-
âall killed?!â you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief
-as have the corrupt officers who buried your fatherâs case, so it seems
a sense of calm settles over you
the clock tells you that itâs now three minutes past the end of your shift
the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break
you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy
the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them
you leave
when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater
you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf
jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup
his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board
you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves
and you would be concerned about the blood if this werenât such a common occurrence
you know now that itâs never his own
when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work
like he can never quite believe that youâre here with him after so many years apart
he greets you, smiling with anticipation, âdid you like my christmas present?â
your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier
âthat was you?âÂ
the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question
âyou didnât have to, jongho,â but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms
âof course i did,â he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. ânobody messes with my girlâ
his words send a hot rush right through your body
the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold
âcop or not,â he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, âyouâre mine to protectâ
you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are
in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs
âtoo bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,â you joke
jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed
he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you
âare you going to frisk me too, officer?â
when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, âi might be armed with something that couldâŠdestroy youâ
a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesnât go unnoticed
he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp
jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly
you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation
can i?
you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone
yes
his gaze turns predatory almost immediately
âmy turn,â he rasps lowly
he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you
you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you
jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally
you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists
âis this okay?â he asks, voice gentle again
you reassure him, âyeah, more than okay,â before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him
he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist
itâs not enough though
âtouch me, please,â you breathe out
âplease, who?â he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure
your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants
âplease, officer,â you beg
âsee, that wasnât so hard,â jongho whispers right into your ear
the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts
his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them
he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you
your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh
but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear
the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him
âgive me a second, baby, i just need to,â he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, âadjust the fireâ
you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants
âjongho,â you start to beg again, âi want to cumâ
âi know, baby, but i donât want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,â he strides back to you in two quick steps
ânow that thatâs sorted,â he turns your body around so that youâre facing him, âi think itâs time for my appetiserâ
he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes
he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs
you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you
itâs not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body
he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation
âlook at you,â he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, âalready so wet when iâve barely even touched youâ
he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger
âuse your words, baby,â he grins up at you with a smug expression
âi need y-â
he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you
you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole
âfuck!â the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you
he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found
a pressure starts to build in your core
âiâm close,â you manage to choke out
you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, ânot yet, babyâ
âi canât, jongho, please, let me cum,â you plead
âwait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,â yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour
you almost sob from desperation, âwait for fucking what?! your dick isnât even in me!â
âjust a little longer, baby,â he reassures you as your thighs shake around him
you canât do it anymore
you have to cum
you have to-
âcum,â he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit
your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers
jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-
just as the timer on the stove goes off
âwhat the fuck?â you blurt out
your mind is still hazy from pleasure but youâre pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove
jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup
after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm
you watch, rendered speechless
except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason
he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt
âround two, babyâ
he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse
you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest
settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground
he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection
your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out
he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him
jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build
his voice is low and teasing
âyou have the right to remain silent,â he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, âbut i doubt you willâ
calling bf!ateez by their government name
genre: ot8 x gn!reader, fluff, crack, fake texts
c/w: swearing, pet names, reader jokingly referred to as 'sir' twice
a/n: i have written zero (0) words recently because my paint by numbers has become my personality đ©âđš sorry yumi LOL @sorryimananti-romantic
boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut
genre: ot8 x gn!reader, smut, crack, fake texts
c/w: explicit content - mdni, swearing, dirty jokes, pet names, dark humour
a/n: i had a different fake text queued for today, but in light of choi san the man himself discovering fanfic, this felt fitting to post đ«ą started drafting this five months ago with @sorryimananti-romantic so did we accidentally manifest it đŹ
asking bf!ateez to draw you a flower
genre: ot8 x gn!reader, fluff, crack, fake texts
c/w: swearing, pet names, questionable drawing skills
a/n: happy valentines and stay delulu đđ«° tmi but jongho's flower took 1.5 hours to draw and mingi's took five seconds đ and if some of the flowers look hideous then blame @sorryimananti-romantic bc she probably told me to draw them :D
ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 11.3k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of đ€ą sad đ€ą to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')
san
pov: you're forbidden lovers
âshh,â san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. âwouldnât want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?â
his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest
there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him
he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name
âor maybe you like that,â he teases âyou like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingersâ
san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently
he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, âimagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no lessâÂ
all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you
âcum, princessâ he demands
you grip bruises onto sanâs thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesnât relent even after your orgasm has washed over you
his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold
you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure
âgive me one more, i know you can do it,â he coaxes
the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit
with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one
âprincess?â and then a knock. âare you okay?â
san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you
you just know heâs enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, âeverythingâs fine. iâll be done soonâ
âsoon?â san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. âthen we better make this quickâ
because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love
he isnât just another one of the numerous servants who serve you
he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other
his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice
but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place
you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs
you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon
your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best
without much time left until the appointed meeting due to yourâŠescapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of sanâs dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room
you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom
schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter
and then you realise it isnât just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit
but the prince as well
he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build
the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-
oh
he has dimples too
the king garners everyoneâs attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs
prince jaehyun, you learn his name is
âafter much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,â your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall
you canât stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach
the tight smile that your mother passes you from your fatherâs other side does little to settle your nerves
âas such,â the king continues, âwe shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyunâ
there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall
engagement
the engagement
you
prince jaehyun
the engagement between you and prince jaehyun
it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat
your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony
instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for
where is san?
you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him
you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this
you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips
but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen
over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break
never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you
it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement
you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to âensure the prince feels at homeâ
prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship
when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san wouldâve said this, san wouldâve done that, san, san, san
jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples
but it only reminds you of sanâs dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles
jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side
the smile as you say âthank youâ does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again
jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface
your body recalls sanâs rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long
jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san
the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives
and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall
hurt and longing consume you to the very core
some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe
other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey
but you know that you cannot be selfish
what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times
after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies
you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors
you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight
your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyunâs fiance
but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation
you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-
and there he is
âsan-â
he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room
he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot
it isnât until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones
you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go
âsan, i- i had no idea, i didnât agree to any of thisâ
he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face
âi know. i know, so please donât cry, love,â he murmurs softly
you donât even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away
âiâm getting engaged tomorrow, san,â your voice breaks as reality settles in
you are so afraid
you are so lost
above all, you are so in love with san
âi know,â he reassures again, âbut until tomorrow, you are still mineâ
and so you spend your last night together
time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour
but tonight, san takes his time with you
he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his
he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body
he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips
and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you
san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts
before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, âno matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yoursâ
âas will mineâ
you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart
restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers
which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room
he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, âgood morning, princess. what are you doing here?â
you pause mid-step
what are you doing?
âprince jaehyun,â you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. âcan we talk for a moment?â
he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow
jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you
âi hope you donât feel uncomfortable in my room,â he explains, âi thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in hereâŠconsidering most people know of our engagement todayâ
âactually, i wanted to talk to you about thatâ
âgo on,â he encourages you with a dimpled smile
you take a deep breath
âiâm sorry,â you blurt out
and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just donât see it working out with him
you donât want to get engaged with him
because your heart already belongs to somebody else
âgoodâ
âiâm so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?â you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles
jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had
âiâm actually relieved to hear that, princess,â he admits. âbecause iâŠalso have someone that i love back homeâ
and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light
âwho is it?â he asks
âhis name is san,â and then you add on, âhe has dimples just like you doâÂ
you ask him the same question
you see the way jaehyunâs expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other
it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san
jaehyun jokes, âwant to be the one who tells your father weâre calling off the engagement? i donât fancy getting executed todayâ
but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up
âyour majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or notâ
âwhat?â you see veins starting to appear across the kingâs forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better
disappointed, perhaps, but understanding
the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyunâs
you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to
âi have one more thing to say,â you declare. âi revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdomâs princessâ
the king roars furiously, âthat is enough! leave!â and he slams his hand against the throneâs armrest
shocked and betrayed by your fatherâs reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes
only to run straight into the waiting arms of san
âoh, princess,â he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace
he doesnât have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation
but you do not care about anything anymore
you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with
âhow are you here?â you sniffle
âjaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,â sanâs attempt to make you smile is successful
when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well
then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you
someone
he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen
you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile
âitâs fine, sannie,â she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used
âiâll, uh, leave you two to talk,â he flusters
she thanks him with a teasing remark, âi wonât keep her away from you for very longâ
san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy
and then she is stroking your hair affectionately
âi am so proud of you. youâve grown up so well and you are so brave,â she says
you donât understand
you ask, âwhy arenât you angry?â
âoh, baby,â she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. âbefore my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happyâ
your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug
âdoes sannie make you happy, dear?â
you nod, âthe happiestâ
âthen that is all i want. now go,â she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. âiâll talk to your fatherâ
with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san
he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you
you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side
san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. âdoes this mean we can be together? together together?âÂ
âi goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-â you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off
he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, âthatâs easy to sort outâ
âfirst, youâll still be my princess,â he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again
âsecond, iâll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,â he unfurls another finger
âiâll give you a treat whenever you want,â he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug
âand, dear princess,â he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, âi can give you hourly massagesâŠâ
smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, â...if you can keep upâ
mingi
pov: you're the prince's maid
for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you
but desperate times call for desperate measures
and thereâs no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anywayâŠ
not with what has just happened in the palace
you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed
you call out softly but urgently, âprince mingiâ
when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake
âprince mingi, please wake upâ
his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night
âw-whatâs going on?â he clears his husky voice, âare you okay?â
you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead
reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep
but there is no time
âthe crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.â
the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest
although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now
âthe crown prince is d-â the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. âwhat about prince eun?â
you must drive the knife into him once more
âhe was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave nowâ
âthe court will find me innocent,â yet he lets you tug him out of his bed
you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, ânot when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown princeâs blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your nameâ
he knows that youâre right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong
the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist
eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee
you follow the prince through a back passageway - itâs not entirely a secret and it wonât be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase
but it is long enough to give you two a head start
he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you
with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop
you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace
prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his
âhere,â he murmurs, âjust follow meâ
he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horseâs movements and his own
when heâs sure youâve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off
youâre not sure how long you two ride for
but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter
with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, âsleep, iâve got youâ
you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves
the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away
it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-
âwhat are we going to do now?â you sit up, and the princeâs robe, you now register, falls from around your body
the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands
âweâll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. weâll replenish some supplies and go from thereâ
itâs unspoken
the fact that there is no solid plan from there
even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?
plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves
but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the princeâs hood pulled up over his face
you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople
itâs mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up
later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest
a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces
you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top
specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket
your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit
âprince mingiâŠâ you start, voice low
he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, âiâm okay.â
you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince
all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,
âyou donât have to be strong. not in front of meâŠâ
and he knows
because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most
you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely
you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers
you, who is still risking your life to flee with him
âonly if you stop calling me prince,â he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. âwith you, i am just mingiâ
âokay, prince mingi,â you tease
yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isnât quite ready to seek it verbally
mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them
mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isnât as surprised as one would expect him to be
perhaps he always knew of his middle brotherâs thirst for the throneÂ
he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood
for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles
he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night
the days start to repeat themselves
you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingiâs horse to rest
mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun
from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks
and although mingi doesnât tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left
the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangmanâs noose
neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either
but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other
as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end
when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again
and when youâre seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand
sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him
sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely
because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under
and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight
you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips
âwill you stay with me, forever?â
he feels you still in his embrace, before youâre pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle
âyou should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like meâ
âyou are a princess in my eyesâ
you canât help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, âyou know that is not how it worksâ
âthen we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,â he tells you with boyish determination
âyou cannot, mingi. your people need a good princeâ
âbut what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?â
under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace
because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does
âokay, iâll be your princess,â you breathe out
âforever?â
âforeverâ
that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love
even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingiâs stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning
he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two
mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead
the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes
left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle
when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you
âyou killed the crown prince, eun,â mingi spits at his brother
ârunning and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,â prince eun laughs condescendingly. âand you even took a little dog with you, tooâ
mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother
prince eun smiles smugly at mingiâs reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it
âfor high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.â
you press your nose into mingiâs back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent
the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, âany last words, brother?â
mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks
âi love you, my princess,â he proclaims
âforever,â you reply
he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts
youâre unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi
you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face
you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words
with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, âi love you too, mingi. weâll meet again in the next lifeâ
as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again
wooyoung
pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom
âabsolutely not, advisor lee,â your mother raises her nose in the air
âyour highness, i understand but-â
âoh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,â queen jung spits out, âyou are not the only one who abhors the ideaâ
you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room
advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung
there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families
which arenât entirely untrue
as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship
in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons
or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs
but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families
the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms
and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners
which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise
except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice
your father nods slightly at the two of you, âyou are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoungâ
you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels
you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell
except, surprise surprise
who do you run into
you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, âa royal ball, he says?â
âabsolutely not,â you fold your arms across your chest
âoh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,â he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with
neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else
before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously
âdid you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?â
âand then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-â
he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kissÂ
you sigh, resting a hand on his chest
âdo you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?â a teasing lilt in your voice
âabsolutely,â he nods grimly, âwhy go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?â
âand what is that, my prince?â
he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, âfor me to take your hand in marriage, my princessâ
at his words, your smile dampens
âyou know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parentsâ
because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love
you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdomâs outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it
you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the storeâs table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, youâll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom
and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoungâs palace
and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours
which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperatelyÂ
as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that itâll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely
in response, you bet him that they wonât even last two weeks - one at the most
except youâre both wrong
the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead
sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace
other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead
one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air
the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles
and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parentsâ simmering loathing for the other
but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight
you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch
he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you
really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles
and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention
(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)
the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently
(which also does not go unnoticed)
as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly
your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror
you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye
âhow do i look?â
âstunning, my princess,â she assures you, before adding, âprince wooyoung will definitely love itâ
âprin- he- what? i- sorry?â you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off
but jihye just looks at you knowingly
meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball
he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse
wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face
yours
prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung
when wooyoung finally realises he isnât as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks
âjust know that if there were not so many people here,â wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, âi would flip you all off right nowâ
before he can try stepping on his friendsâ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider
âlookâ
wooyoung turns around
and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down
the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background
because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body
for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him
âyouâre going to catch a fly in your mouth, wooâ
âpick up your jaw. itâs on the groundâ
prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoungâs mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, âyouâre drooling, darlingâ
at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality
âgod, youâre hopeless. just go up and talk to her,â prince hongjoong snickers. âthe whole point of this ball is to show off how âcloseâ your families are anywayâ
wooyoung grumbles that he knows, heâs just looking for the right timing
which, unfortunately, does not seem to come
you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future
not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart
the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him
even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times
you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision
âprincess, lord ryu,â he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, âpardon me as i take the princess for a danceâ
lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, âof course, prince wooyoungâ
you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing
you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist
a little possessively, you might add
âyou look beautiful today,â he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears
âonly today?â you quirk an eyebrow teasingly
his voice drops down an octave, âwell itâs not every day that i can tell you, princessâ
wooyoungâs eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips
you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody
and you can see the moment his resolve snaps
âmeet me for some fresh air in ten,â bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares
and then heâs gone
you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom
wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until youâre both breathless and light-headed
âyou donât know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that youâre mine,â he nips at your bottom lip
you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds
he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-
âwhat in godâs name is going on?â
you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek
the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff
itâs kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoungâs secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion
youâre ripped from each otherâs arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten
your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom
they are still in your palace somewhere
yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night
all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore
âprincess,â you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, âthe king and queen request for your presence in the throne roomâ
as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors
you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you
not that they have the heart to stop you either way
âi thought you would have been forced to leave,â you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you
âiâm still here,â he chuckles. âi have been summoned by your parentsâ
your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about
âand i am glad they did, princess,â wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. âi am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officiallyâ
âwhat if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?â worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens
wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded
âno matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,â he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, âi will never ever stop fighting for youâ
he presses his soft lips against yours
âfor us,â he vows
your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you
this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open
together.
jongho
pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard
over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward
âyour majesty, i will accompany the princess,â he declares
âchoi jongho?â your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, âit is decided thenâ
âhim? surely i need another person with me as well?â you protest
your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king
âno, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guardâ
your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument
meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you
âyou trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,â he teases under his breath
you nudge him with an elbow, âyouâre the only bug i see around hereâ
he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look
regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting
youâre not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task
because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting
(âyou canât talk to me like that. iâm the princessâ)
(âno, youâre not. youâre an idiotâ)
in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you
and yet here he is
with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else
but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission
he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since heâs âknown the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the bestâ
you donât want to travel to the border
youâre in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you
this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives
the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person
and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities
jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you
(âyour fluffy slippers are not essential, princessâ)
(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isnât looking out of petty revenge because you know heâll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)
itâs a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side
by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, youâre passing through a small town
he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns
you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night
you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child
âthereâs no way iâm staying the night in this sorry excuse of an innâ
he merely blinks
âyouâre technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, iâll-â
âyouâll what,â you challenge, nose-to-nose
or nose-to-throat, you suppose
but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder
you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs
instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, âooh, now iâm turned onâ
jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you donât miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut
âwait,â you sit up on the bed, âweâre sharing a room?â
âitâs safer. iâll sleep on the sofaâ
you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn
you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, âyou better not snoreâ
jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot
a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue
âyouâre the only snorer in this room, princessâ
nevermind.
itâs gone.
youâre settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it
holy shit
your immediate reaction is to seek his protection
âjongho!â
the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you
water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso
âwhatâs wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?â his voice is laced with restrained panic
you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too
his body stiffens completely
because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerousâŠ
is a fucking spider
all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff
then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the roomâs door
âwhere are you going?!â you shriek
he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, âto prepare for my executionâ
âwhat the fuck are you on about, jongho?â
âfor abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-â
his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him
and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs
needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you
âyouâre so embarrassing,â you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa
âno, iâm jongho,â he cackles
you donât humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night
you canât help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well
a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself
heâs currently halving a sandwich so you two can share
âif i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,â you ask gravely, âwhat would you do?â
without missing a beat, he replies, âprepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honourâ
he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression
âcan you at least pretend to think for a bit?â you grumble
thereâs a hint of a smile on jonghoâs face when he apologises, âokay, sorry. ask me againâ
you hit him with a different scenario this time
âif you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?â
he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side
âi would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk awayâ
âfuck you,â you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder
he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, âsure, if you think you can handle my dickâ
âlike they say,â you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, âpractice makes perfectâ
jonghoâs stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him
he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, âwe should go, denport is closeâ
when youâve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jonghoâs offered hand to stand up too
âletâs goâ
one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get
the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair
and then it happens
your plan goes awry
you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night
thereâs a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air
when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around
âhis son is lucky to have been sparedâ
âlucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?â
âi heard it wasnât money that they were after, thoughâ
âthose damned denport devils are up to somethingâ
thatâs all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that itâs too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling
which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him
you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you
youâre facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but youâre both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since
âwe need to go check it out!â you shout at him
jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, âno, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!â
you throw your hands up into the air, âweâre already here - weâre basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go backâ
jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow
you donât cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you donât think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol
âof all times for you to play hero and do something that you werenât asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?â
your back hits the wall as jongho corners you
your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions
he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress
you donât understand why he is so against your decision
you donât know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-
âdamn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balmâ
he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say
he looks at your lips
he makes a decision
âthen give me some of yours,â he says, a little breathless
and then heâs pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears
suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him
and then he leaves the room without another word
he doesnât return that night and you donât manage to sleep either
you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room
jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe
youâre not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night
you think you know which one it is, even if he doesnât confirm it
âweâre checking out,â he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind
neither of you say much more to each other
you think that heâs going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeksâ worth of journeying and go back to the castle
but then heâs sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport
heâs never held your hand before
not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side
you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side
you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon
from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half dayâs walk away
jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log
he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both
itâs now or never
âwhy are you so against us going to the border?â you ask him
he runs his fingers through his hair
an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him
he looks at you as he says, âiâm fine with me going to the border, itâs you iâm not fine with. you do remember that iâm your royal guard, rightâ
âis that all there is to your reason,â you push, âthat youâre my guard?â
you both know youâre referring to more than just the argument itself
jonghoâs gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead
he is silent
for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you
you hear him swallow and take a breath
âiâŠi donât know,â he starts. âall i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safeâ
jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly
âwhy do you make me feel so worried?â
at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, âmaybe you like meâ
âmaybe i doâ
oh.
with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry
âplease, donât go to the border, princess,â he begs softly
his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite
after a few seconds of silence, you say
âokay, jongho. i wonâtâ
the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again
âyou promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?â
you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, âdo you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?â
he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly
âof course not, princess. youâve already done so much more than you needed to. heâll be proud of youâ
and then he adds on, âjust like iâm proud of youâ
this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed
caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, âthank you, jonghoâ
he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head
youâve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten
you are intoxicated by him
âif youâre thankful,â the rumble of jonghoâs voice against your cheek is pleasant, âcan i ask for something?â
âwhatever you wantâ
he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face
âcan i have some more of your lip balm?â
the essence of youth is summers with you
genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 38.7k
c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions
synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding handsâ choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?
a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read âĄ
itâs the first day of summer when you move to namhae.
the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.
it isnât very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but youâre wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like itâs going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.
tentatively, you hop out and look around. itâs a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that thereâs a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach houseâ your new neighbours.
the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. thereâs a boy who peers out from behind his motherâs legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your motherâs dress and the adults share a laugh.
the boyâs mother gently nudges him forward. âgo on, sweetie. say hi.â
with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise heâs shorter than you are. âhi, iâm san. iâm six years old and i like the sea!â
the grip you have on your motherâs dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, âiâm y/n. iâm six and i like the sea too.â
his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your motherâs dress.
âweâre going to go play at the beach,â he announces, because youâre his friend now and friends play together.
on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.
âsannie!â you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.
he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, âhello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?â
you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of sanâs room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so thereâs not a day to be wasted.
âchoi san!â you holler again, thundering up to his door. youâre about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.
the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. youâve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and youâve also become familiar with the way sanâs arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.
âdo you have your bucket?â you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.
san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. itâs purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.
you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, ârace you to the beach!â using sanâs chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.
âthatâs cheating!â he yells after you.
you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before youâre off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of sanâs footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.
the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.
your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up insteadâ sanâs only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow downâ not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.
you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, âyour turn.â
you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.
you end up slowing down because itâs hard to run through water, and youâre met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.
âuse your own bucket, you loser,â he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before itâs swept out by the waves.
âare you cold?â san asks whilst passing it to you.
thereâs vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. âno,â you answer, ââm not cold.â never with you.
he nods, âlet me know if you do get cold, okay? iâll grab you a jacket or something.â
âmy house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,â you chuckle.
âi know, but itâs the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.â san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks heâs all grown up now that heâs in high school. but itâs not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.
âokay, thank you, sannie. iâll let you know if i so much as shiver,â you dotingly appease him.
he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, youâve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.
âwhatâs wrong?â you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.
you realise heâs distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the manâs body becomes an extension of the oceanâ a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagleâs wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.
san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the seaâs choreography. he declares, âi want to become a surfer.â
âwhat happened to becoming a dancer?â you raise an eyebrow. because if thereâs one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then itâs dancing.
âbecoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,â he breathes out. âjust look at him. he looks soâŠfree.â
you can see it in the way sanâs eyes follow the surferâs movements and sparkle with wonderâ the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. âthen try it,â you encourage, âwhatâs stopping you?â
san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. ânothing,â he proclaims with a growing smile. âabsolutely nothing.â
san has all the summers in the world to surf. and youâll be there with him for every single one.
you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeepâ the last of his luggage to be loaded.
âi donât get why youâre taking that with you. thereâs probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.â you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you donât really care right now. not when san is leaving and you wonât be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.
tugging on the straps once more to check that theyâre secure, he chuckles, âdoesnât hurt to take it just in case.â when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, âiâll be back every summer, yeah?â
âit wonât be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?â you grumble.
san laughs endearingly, âitâs only until i graduate.â
âor you find a job or a girlfriend and then youâll stay in seoul forever.â you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.
âjust four yearsâno job, no girlfriendâand then iâll be back. i promise.â he opens his arms a little, ânow, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?â
you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.
âiâll miss you,â you whisper, because you donât trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.
san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, âiâll miss you more.â
you bite back the urge to respond with âthen stayâ, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. sheâs discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you donât start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you canât afford that when this is the last time youâll see san until next summer.
you all gather around the driverâs window thatâs rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, âdonât cry, please? we can call whenever you want.â
you sniffle, âcall me when you arrive?â
he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like itâs the middle of winter today.
sanâs eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasnât been able to see your reflection the last three times heâs looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then thatâs between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.
you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you donât have to hold it. âwhat was that?â you pull your device closer to your ear. âare you going somewhere?â
there it is againâ the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, âhome.â
you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, âhome?â
âyeah, home,â san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. âi told you iâd see you soon, didnât i?â
âi didnât think you meant in five literal minutes,â you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. âoh my god, is that why you said you couldnât facetime me?â
you can hear his answer this timeâ not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, noâ the smooth deepness of sanâs voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.
in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, heâs not alone.
if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise youâve seen him beforeâ both of them, actually.
on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. heâs usually in one of the universityâs dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and theyâll appear behind him to say hello to you or youâll be able to hear them in the background of the call.
quite frankly, the crusty quality of sanâs front camera hardly does them justice because wow. theyâre hot. and tall. theyâre not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and sanâs family are waiting to welcome them.
san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, âyunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.â
yunho and mingi thank sanâs parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way theyâre immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasnât too tiring, you know sanâs parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.
âhey, pipsqueak,â san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.
you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, âlooks like youâve been busy doing everything but growing.â
âon second thoughts, maybe i donât really miss you.â
san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and thatâs all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, youâve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.
the rumble of sanâs chest is soothing as he says, âwell, i miss you. itâs good to be back home.â
you pull back a little to look up at him and god, heâs gotten so much taller. âitâs good to have you back home, choi san.â
the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, âbut you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.â
âon top of the fact that san doesnât shut up about you,â mingi jokes.
san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, ânamhae! he doesnât shut up about namhae!â
yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.
âare you two also dance majors?â you ask.
âyeah, so we share some classes together,â yunho explains. âmingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas iâm in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.â
âgood thing, too,â mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the otherâs shoulder. âiâve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.â
he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be sanâs. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so itâs his baby.
âare these all yours?â you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.
he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, âthe guys brought theirs along too.â
mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. âyou all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!â
âno, you were right. you canât,â san chortles in embarrassment. âbut there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.â
mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, âdoesnât beat the real thing, though.â
ânope, which is exactly why weâre crashing. sorry, by the wayâwe probably shouldâve asked you whether we could come,â yunho scratches the back of his neck.
you frown, âof course you can. itâs not like iâm the town head of namhae or anything.â
âbut they know we spend our summers together,â san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.
âoh,â you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, âyou know what? mingi was right. you donât shut up about me, do you.â
mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. itâs amusing to see san flustering so easily now that thereâs a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friendsâ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.
as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, âletâs go.â
âyou know i canât surf, san.â
he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, ânot to surf, silly. letâs go get our buckets.â
your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, âbuckets?â
âof course,â san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. âweâve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.â
half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ânamhae ninjasâ and the âhighschool homiesâ. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word âneighboursâ, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadnât been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.
san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just donât change, even over time.
mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.
where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.
âwhich one do you think looks better?â
your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunhoâs pick. âthis one,â she points, âthe other colour palette clashes too much.â
san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that theyâre discussing investment properties. in reality, youâre watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your fatherâs flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.
noticing the dubious frown on mingiâs face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants heâs holding. âthis is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,â she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. âit matches your shirt. i think youâll look the best in it.â
he immediately perks up and you canât help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. itâs incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.
you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.
yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. âwant to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?â
you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, âsorry, i wonât say that a-grain.â
he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacksâ how could anybody say no?
you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. itâs mesmerising to watch yunhoâs hands as he deftly carries out each stepâ the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. youâve come to realise that yunhoâs good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.
âhow did you start surfing?â you wonder.
yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. âi actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,â his voice is fond. âitâs been four or five years now.â
âthatâs really sweet of you.â
he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, âwhat about you? how come you donât surf?â
âsan roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,â you reveal. âi prefer watching, anyway.â
âmaybe you just didnât have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?â
you donât doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when heâs soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.
you chuckle, âyouâre going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, donât you?â
âthatâs true,â he hums. âbut thereâs always next summerâŠif youâd like that?â
at his words, you suddenly donât know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, youâre interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunhoâs progress. âof course youâre good at this too.â
you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within armâs reach.
âhowâs he going?â
san glances back, âheâs, uhâwell. heâs trying.â
âmy hardest!â mingi yells across the field.
with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.
the seedlings that mingi has planted donât look that bad, honestly. theyâre a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isnât all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. âhere, let me show you.â
you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, âthey may just be plants, but theyâre like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.â you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, âyou know, itâs kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.â
having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle youâre all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.
your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. âyunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.â
at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. âi was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myselfâŠgive myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,â he reveals. âsometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.â
âiâm glad you had him to help you through that.â
âyeah, heâs helped me a lot,â mingi agrees. âhe still does. sannie too.â as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.
âhow are things at home now?â you ask.
he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. âboth of them knew that i didnât want to go back to my hometown over summer. thatâs why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. itâs meant a lot to me.â
your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, âstop treating me like iâm the head of namhae. thereâll always be a place here for the both of you.â
he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. âwe just know how much summers mean to you and san.â
âand meanings can always change for the better,â you counter with a smile.
mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesnât go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at sanâs admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.
âhave you two just been sitting there this whole time?â yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw sanâs attention.
âno?â you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, âyes.â
the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, âwhat are you going to do about it?â
yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.
thatâs all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that itâs a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.
âyun, we can talk this out like adults,â you try to distract him.
whilst youâre struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that youâre not above begging.
âdonât come any closer! please, iâm sorry! iâmââ your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.
for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunhoâs arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his prettyâ but grubbyâ hands.
you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of sanâs headlock. he rapidly taps the latterâs forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.
mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each otherâs faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.
in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why sanâs parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.
you hadnât thought much of itâ just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, âgonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD weâll be there in about twentyâ.
this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why sanâs parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.
as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, youâre dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. itâs good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and youâd be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of youâ having forgotten just how tall they really areâ if your attention isnât distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind sanâs jeep.
either seoul has water thatâs doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. youâd be lying if your heart didnât skip a beat at the sight of them. youâre a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.
yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. âthis is y/n,â yunho introduces. âand these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.â
you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, âand this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.â
hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, âand we keep you as our tall circus freak.â
the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.
before you can so much as take two steps, thereâs a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, itâs sanâs kind eyes that are gazing back at you. âhere, let me do it,â he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.
left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way youâre subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.
thereâs a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise itâs heavier than it looks. âwhat the hell is in this? weights?â you mutter to yourself.
thereâs a giggle beside you, âsorry, thatâs probably yeosangâs bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.â
itâs jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. âwe can trade. this is much lighter.â
he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, thereâs the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that itâs the short boy, hongjoong. heâs only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you heâs still easily taller than you.
âmaybe you could help me hold this, too.â heâs holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern whatâs in his hands.
âwhat is it?â you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.
except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.
as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, âsanâs going to chop your hand off when he sees,â then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.
âitâs okay, i wouldnât let san do that to you,â you reassure.
hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, âbecause thatâd be animal abuse.â
âitâs been five minutes and youâve already picked your side,â he laments dramatically, before nodding. âi see how you play. i like you.â
âitâs a shame i donât,â you quip back immediately.
âfuck, did i just get rejected?â
yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, âstop digging yourself a deeper hole.â
you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. youâre definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoongâs friends have in teasing him.
you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. heâs watching the rest of the boys play âscissors, paper, rockâ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.
youâve had the fleeting thought before, but now that youâre seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, youâre slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.
âdo you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?â you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, itâs not him who answers you.
âaww, stop. you think weâre attractive?â of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.
immediately, the feistiness in you appears. âyeah, and iâm wondering why they made an exception for you.â
he takes on the jest easily, âgod, youâre obsessed with me.â
âyouâre right, iâm a little crazy for dogs,â you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of sanâs chuckles from next to you.
âgood thing iâd bark for you, then.â
âwhat the fuck, guys?â mingi interrupts, âget a room.â
at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, âhurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.â
yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for sanâs room. you turn to san incredulously, âyouâre fitting four people in your room?â
he shakes his head, âof course not. iâm going to sleep in haneulâs room. sheâs on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.â
âshe can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,â you suggest.
âoh, thatâs right. your parents are in yeosu now, arenât they?â
you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparentâs house for the meantime. theyâre not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, itâll likely be for a while.
san doesnât tell you, but thatâs part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that youâre silently struggling to adjustâ even if his parents take care of you like their own daughterâ so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didnât just have to be summer.
âdo you need to change into something else before we go?â he asks you.
you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that youâre wearing. you donât mind getting them wet, but you canât say the same about your underclothes. âyeah, iâll quickly go and change first.â
he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, âitâs good to see you again, pipsqueak. iâve missed you.â
you smile, âiâve missed you more.â
even after the door closes behind you, sanâs smile stays on his face. âiâve missed you the most.â
no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.
âyou cheater!â you screech when you feel sanâs arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. âyou said youâd give me a ten-second head start!â
his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, âi did! your little legs are just too slow.â
you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of sanâs yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the olderâs back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.
san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his faceâ revealing his abs in all of their wonderâ does the complete opposite of calming you down.
you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jonghoâs andâŠyeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.
san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.
hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosangâs attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermathâ your trio absolutely drenchedâ and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.
at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and youâre momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.
âup for more surfing?â he grins at you. and if thereâs one thing youâve learnt over the summer, itâs that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.
jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that heâs a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.
once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surferâs club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.
of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jonghoâs softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own boardâ a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunhoâs careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.
which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.
âyou remember how to push through the waves?â jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.
âyeah, hang on,â he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what heâs telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.
âhold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,â he explains as you shift your hands forward. âthe board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.â
you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.
âthereâs a wave coming in we could try,â yeosang suggests.
the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesnât increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.
âokay, ready? hold steady, steady,â jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, âand push up!â
you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the waveâs trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.
âi did it!â you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.
âyou did it!â the boys respond excitedly.
jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.
âjust a little more practice and youâll be taking on the monster swells in no time,â yeosang declares. you know heâs exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.
somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. itâs san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, âweâre going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?â
âyes!â you shout back, âwait for me!â
ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming itâs san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.
âsan, you left your phââ you start, except itâs yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. itâs warm from the hours itâs spent in the sun and you canât help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.
âhere,â he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.
san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. âthe groundâs pretty hot,â he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.
âwait, i forgot my wallet,â you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.
âdonât worry about it,â san reassures, âhongjoongâs buying.â
your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what youâre thinking. âyes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."
"even a doubleâno, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.
san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."
you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jonghoâs ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, âbleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!â
the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybodyâs, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.
from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he canât help but feel like heâs going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of sixâ which will hopefully become the full eight next summerâ and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that youâll never feel alone.
âif only wooyoung was here, then weâd have someone to grill the meat properly,â yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. âheâs the best cook out of us.â
âtrust him to be a good cook, too,â you comment.
when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who werenât able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jonghoâs drama society.
their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoungâs, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.
itâs a running joke that you donât need to remember how everybody knows each otherâ you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looksâ should the boysâ track record stay trueâ but apparently heâs a good cook too. some people really just have it all.
âwhat else do we need?â jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart heâs pushing.
âmingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,â you answer.
last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, youâre all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.
âletâs see if they have marshmallows, then,â jongho makes a move to walk away.
hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. âget in,â he tells you.
yeosang helpfully points out, âthat sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,â at the same time you question, âare we even allowed to do that?â
he beams, âi like to think that until somebody tells us weâre not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.â
âi can think of fifteen different reasons right now why thatâs terrible life advice.â
the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, âiâm really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as heâs older.â
âi hate to break it to you, but seonghwaâs worse,â jongho grimaces. âmaturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.â
at jonghoâs words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only youâre met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.
you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. âi canât believe iâm doing this,â you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, whatâs life without breaking a few rules?
except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.
âfaster, joong! faster!â you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.
both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyesâ from three aisles overâ are as trustworthy as VAR playback.
itâs no surprise when the ruckus youâre all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.
with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each otherâs sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, thereâs only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.
if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.
you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.
you wish you were older. because being older means that youâll have graduated, and being graduated means that you wonât have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.
âhey, you need those brain cells,â someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.
âcanât lose what i donât have,â you mumble back.
âtake a break,â she suggests. âdo you want me to get you something from the bakery?â
haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, âgot it. iâll be back.â
you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. itâs been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like youâve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.
your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what youâre relatively sure is the answer button. âyeah?â you say into the receiver.
âsomeoneâs a little grumpy today,â a teasing voice sounds.
âhwa?â you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.
it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. âare you still studying?â he asks.
you deflate a little, reminded of why youâve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. âmhm,â you hum affirmatively. âexcept nothingâs going into my brain anymore.â
âsounds like you need a break.â
âthatâs exactly what haneul said,â you grumble, although youâre not entirely sure why youâre so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.
âbecause weâre right,â he quirks his eyebrow. âwhatâs haneul doing at yours, anyway?â
âtaking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but sheâs forgiven since sheâs buying me snacks.â
âthen take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. itâll only be an hour, tops,â seonghwa convinces. âiâll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and iâll keep you company when you study.â
you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, âjust a few more weeks to go until summer and then youâll be free.â
âare you taking up summer school again?â you ask.
after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didnât get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadnât been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.
seonghwa grimaces at the memory, âno, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didnât even end up applying for any jobs.â he points a stern finger at you and warns, âdonât ever think about doing summer school.â
âtrust me,â you laugh, âi have no intentions of ever doing that.â
you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. âdoes that mean iâll finally get to meet you?â
seonghwa nods, âwoo as well.â
the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.
âoi! why are you all calling without me?â wooyoung complains.
contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, âweâre literally calling from the group chat. no oneâs leaving you out of anything.â
and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoongâs profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if heâs in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so youâre guessing theyâre busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.
someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but youâre momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. âhang on,â you mumble, âlet me justâŠreply to this.â
itâs one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether youâre home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears heâs close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, âsorry, what were you saying?â
the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be springâ the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.
âsomeone looks happier. who are you talking to?â haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.
you didnât even realise you were subconsciously smiling. âiâm facetiming the boys.â
she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, âi see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?â
âquit it!â you pretend to shove her. âwant to say hi?â you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and thereâs a chorus of obedient hi haneulâs as you turn up the volume.
she waves and peers at wooyoungâs video. âwhereâs the baby brat?â
from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, âstop calling me that!â thereâs a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoungâs grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that heâs sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.
âyou still respond to it, so,â haneul shrugs.
she disregards her brotherâs continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. âi bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,â she explains as you take it gratefully.
at the mention of a boyâs name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, âwhoâs johnny? is he haneulâs boyfriend or what? whyâs he giving you something?â
even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, âwho tf is jonnyâ.
you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, âheâs my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.â
wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, âwhy is he giving you notes. andâwhat the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.â
you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. âhow did you know i love these?â you exclaim.
she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, âhow do you think?â
from over your phone, the others start to ask what youâve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesnât take a detective to work out howâ or perhaps you should say, whoâ told haneul about your recent cravings.
because if thereâs one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.
hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head thatâs resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, âstop encouraging him, y/n. heâs going to think heâs actually funny or something.â
with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you donât think youâve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, itâs like watching a live sitcom.
wooyoung looks at him with a smug expressionâŠthen proceeds to yank the olderâs sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of sanâs living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwaâs socks and youâre glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyoneâs socks are a target.
the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but youâre not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and youâre all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.
itâs only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks sanâs third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.
you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because thereâs still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboardsâ a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.
the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of sanâs lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancerâ he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.
as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boysâ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others donât learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.
when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.
greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at sanâs or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.
afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.
the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jonghoâs hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwaâs shoulder, you wouldnât have it any other way.
sometimes, when youâre all feeling rejuvenated, youâll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. itâs rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessertâ any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoongâs wallet cry.
the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. youâre all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someoneâs head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.
and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activityâ as if every second of summer isnât already a bonding momentâ where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesnât usually actually become dinner until eight or nine oâclock.
but it doesnât really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, youâll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. sheâll spill her workplace tea and youâll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.
there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete thingsâ there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.
and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunhoâs hands hover around the small of your back whenever youâre all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.
familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. itâs in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.
but the thing with familiarity, though, is that itâs easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you donât understand this until you least expect it.
your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosangâs face. heâs taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone elseâs remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering youâve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.
you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. itâs when you get to your back that you realise you wonât be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but theyâre already running far along the shore and you canât be troubled to yell out for one of them.
youâre starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.
âyour short arms canât reach your back, can they?â
you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, âwho was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?â
âmaybe i just didnât want you to feel too bad about yourself,â he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well heâs incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.
âstop squirming,â he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. heâs meticulous in making sure he doesnât miss a spot, but heâs also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you donât feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word âuncomfortableâ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesnât need to know that.
âthere,â he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that heâs finished his job and then callously walks away.
you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what heâs doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.
youâre flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, âhi, iâm sorry to bother you.â
lifting your head up to look, youâre met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, âthatâs okay. can i help you?â
âum, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?â
the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so youâre not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. sheâs pointing in the direction of hongjoong, whoâs joined some of the others along the shore.
âthe short one?â you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, âiâm not too sure, sorry.â
the girl shakes her head, âoh, no. i meant the boy on his left.â
choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, ânot that i know of.â
the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.
you donât realise youâre staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into sanâs face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoungâs antics.
the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that youâre laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.
chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.
you canât help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that itâs normal for the boys to have suitors.
youâre not dating san. youâre not dating hongjoong. youâre not dating any of the boys, and theyâre certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boysâŠnot just your best friend?
the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridgeâ likely placed there by seonghwaâ is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boysâ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. youâre paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.
grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.
âhey, lilâ tomato,â he jests before he gets a good look at your face. âwoah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.â
you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, âthis is probably the worst sunburn iâve ever gotten before.â
hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. thatâs how you find yourself between hongjoongâs front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.
he murmurs, âhold still.â with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.
âadmit it. you like taking care of me, donât you.â
he rolls his eyes, âand you like being taken care of, donât you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.â
ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, theyâre just trying to keep low tabs on thisâŠclassmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.
âi admit itâs nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?â you challenge, poking his side testingly. âyou like taking care of me, donât you?â
you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.
âand so what if i do?â his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.
you donât respond because you donât know what to respond; youâre suddenly walking in uncharted territoryâ both in regards to his feelings and your own.
when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you canât help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. thereâs hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you donât move away when he moves closer in.
your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.
âsorry, iâthis was a mistake. i shouldnât be doing this,â he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.
âthâthatâs okay,â you awkwardly smile. âthis never happened.â
he nods without looking at you, âthis never happened.â
youâre glad your face is sunburnt because youâre certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.
quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because hisâŠwhatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldnât be doing this. you shouldnât be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.
and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesnât have any romantic interest in youâ or at the very least enough to want to pursue something moreâ then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of themâ much less all of themâ would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?
in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, itâs much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. itâs easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.
you canât tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.
youâre all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.
dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoungâs skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallowsâ the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.
someone had then suggested a round of âtruth or dareâ, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.
âmingi,â haneul directs her question at the taller, â if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?â
his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. âiâd date you all,â he shrugs. âbut if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since heâs been there for me from day one.â
yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, âyour parents would love to hear that answer.â
you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and youâre reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.
moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, âif you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?â
seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. âi think it depends on the situation, because in the end, theyâre not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. itâs impossible to say that one is more important than the other.â
thereâs a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where heâs coming from. it still doesnât stop san from retorting, âthe whole point is to pick one.â
seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. âwhat about you, then?â
much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.
âi would probably choose love. i think youâre right in saying you canât separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,â he muses. âitâs hard to find friends you love, but itâs even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.â
a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, âwhat do you think?â
you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. âi think i would choose love, too. iâll admit itâs a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be madeâŠit can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.â
hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.
âbut at the same time,â you continue, âwhen you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isnât always possible with friendship.â
âyou and san are both such gross romantics,â haneul pretends to gag.
âyeah, shoot us for it,â you poke her in the side. âwooyoung, truth or dare?â
âsince everyoneâs picking truthâŠtruth.â
âwhoâs someone youâre sorry towards or thankful for?â
he whines indignantly, âwhy are we suddenly getting so personal,â but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. âif iâm honest, iâm sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.â
there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that heâs wrong. itâs just that knowing doesnât always stop him from feeling a certain way. âand of course, what iâm sorry for goes hand in hand with what iâm thankful for. but iâm also especially thankful for y/n,â he reveals.
your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.
âi havenât known you for as long as most of the other boys, but iâve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happyâyou make us happy.â
mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the youngerâs answer, âwhen iâm here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.â
a home that heâs never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.
âso thank you for giving me a home here,â mingi looks at you earnestly.
if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, âno matter how many years go by, youâll always have a home here.â
âand the rest of us?â yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.
âyou all have a home here,â you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.
you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each otherâs hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.
âyou know what we should do?â wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, âwe should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.â
âjustâŠstraight up scream?â hongjoong frowns.
a smile starts to spread across sanâs face as he understands wooyoungâs vision. âno, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,â san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.
seonghwa questions, âare we really doing this?â and yet he stands up as well.
âwhen will we ever get a chance to do this again?â
one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. itâs silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.
yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, âi want to become a famous choreographer!â
there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but itâs enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.
âi want my parents to accept that i wonât be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!â yeosang calls out.
mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, âi hope iâll win the lottery one day!â
you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?
reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.
thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.
taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.
and even though youâre all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, itâs the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.
youâve known johnny since you started attending namhaeâs provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. thereâll be a few times throughout the month that youâll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that youâll complete a group task together.
heâs easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunhoâs silly humour. you know for a fact as well that theyâre the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingiâs humour is just as questionable.
you and johnny arenât exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but youâre not exactly close either. so itâs a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)
initially, you tell him that youâre not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that heâs been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise itâs a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.
it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnnyâs efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and itâs not like johnny has done anything to suggest that heâs a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.
he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe thatâs about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, itâs the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.
johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. youâre not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering youâve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.
he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. itâs still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but youâre reminded of yeosangâs quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.
the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeksâ the sunâs out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterdayâs lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.
and when youâre not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can âsee your pretty faceâ. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.
johnnyâs laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. itâs boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you canât help but see jonghoâs own adorable giggles in him.
after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.
and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behindâŠor the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.
âwith all due disrespect, his parents donât fucking deserve to be parents,â wooyoung spits out.
yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingiâs heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the youngerâs hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.
âi donât think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things heâs told us about them over the last few years,â seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingiâs shoulders.
âbut for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?â
san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, âdo you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?â
âthat actually might be possible,â san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. âitâll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.â
âsheâs in for a few surprises,â jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. âhopefully you didnât scare her off after what you did.â
hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, âyeah, i hope i didnât fuck things up for all of us.â
âyou still havenât talked it out with her?â san looks up from his phone.
hongjoong grimaces, âno, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didnât happen.â
âand you just took her word for it? god, thatâs literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation thatâs utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,â wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. âi wouldnât be surprised if she says no to us after all.â
âlook, iâll talk to her when we see her again. the semesterâs nearly over, anyway.â
san nods, âmy parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this oneâitâs probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. letâs just hope we havenât missed our timing with this.â
thereâs only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingiâs sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that theyâll ask youâ be it yes or noâ it still wonât change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.
thereâs a man standing by your side, and itâs not one of them.
itâs strange to see you holding hands with someone that they donât know. of course, itâs inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course itâs inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.
the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when youâre curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliarâ oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside sanâs house and freeze.
you havenât told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadnât given them a heads up of some kind.
you slip your hand out of johnnyâs grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesnât comment on it. instead, he asks, âyou know them?â and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.
âyeah, theyâre my closest friends,â you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend themâ or yourself. âsanâs from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.â
âoh,â your boyfriend makes a noise, âitâs them.â
hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that youâve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the manâs arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.
âi was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first dayâŠi just wasnât expecting it to be today,â you gently place your hand on johnnyâs forearm. âthis is johnny, my boyfriend.â
immediately, the boys recognise his nameâ how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoongâs mind. if he had not pulled away that nightâ if he had kissed you instead of being a cowardâ would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?
and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoungâs teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.
youâre about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, âyou didnât tell me your friends were all guys.â his tone isnât accusatory, per se, but itâs definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.
seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, âand why does it matter to you?â
johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. âyouâll understand when you get a girlfriend,â he dismisses.
immediately, thereâs a palpable spike in tension. âsorry?â wooyoung scoffs.
san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoungâs neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriendâs nameâ respectively scruffing the two men. you didnât know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.
in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, âyou guys are here early this year.â
thereâs a beat of silence thatâs a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, âyeahâŠthings ended up this way.â
the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriendâs direction tells you that thereâs more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leavesâŠif he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.
even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that youâre not single anymoreâ that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they werenât supposed to see.
âdo you have classes today?â san dares to ask.
ânot today. we were justâŠout,â you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.
âwell, weâre headed for the beach,â san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, âdo you want to join us?â
looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isnât to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, âweâll join. itâll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like weâll be seeing each other often this summer.â
ânot if you donât show up,â wooyoung mutters under his breath, but heâs not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.
you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. âweâll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.â you donât wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.
âwait here,â you tell johnny, âiâll get you a spare pair of shorts,â then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.
you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship groupâ a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.
this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now youâre realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.
it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when youâre picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiarâ except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, itâs that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.
san canât help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like theyâve missed theirs.
heâs distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but thereâs an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunhoâs stomach thatâs telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.
regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into sanâs mouth each time he fallsâ no longer the graceful choreographer of the seaâ thereâs a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.
it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.
before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. âstrawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?â
youâre about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, âshe likes the chocolate ones.â
san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, âno, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering weâve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.â he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.
not backing down, johnny turns to ask, âis that true, babe?â
you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. âi like both,â you evade.
but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnnyâs frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, âi know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.â
âyou shouldâve told me,â johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.
san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.
âor maybe you shouldâve noticed,â he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriendâs direction before smiling tenderly at you. âiâll order your food. go find a seat with seongââ
johnnyâs voice is heated when he interjects, âno, you wonât. iâll pay for my girlfriendâs food.â
youâve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.
âitâs alright, san. thank you,â you give your friend a soft smile. âjohnnyâs got it for me.â
san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, âgo sit down. iâll bring our order over when itâs ready.â
on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. ây/n,â he starts.
you plaster on a smile, âitâs okay.â
seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesnât reach his eyes. âdo you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.â
grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, âwhy are you even dating him? i donât get what you see in him.â
he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. youâre distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that itâs a text from san.
sorry for putting you between your bf and i
you look up in surprise and find that heâs already gazing at you from where heâs waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that itâs okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situationâ with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesnât necessarily see eye to eye with.
your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications arenât from him. itâs johnny.
whatâs his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth
your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesnât seem to be referring to your texting exchange with sanâ you donât think heâs even noticed. instead, heâs still hooked on the ordering incident.
slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.
it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that theyâre not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and donât have with one another.
then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesnât mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you donât point it out.
and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like todayâ the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.
itâs not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but thereâs something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosangâs cheeks when heâs eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into sanâs side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingiâs entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoongâs eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.
maybe itâs because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, itâs easier to notice things when youâre watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but thereâs something more to their interactionsâ youâre sure of it. you just canât put your finger on what exactly.
itâs that thought that reminds you of yunhoâs words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. âwhat did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?â you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. âand wasnât there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?â
clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, âyeah, there is. justâmaybe talk to mingi first. youâll probably want to hear it directly from him.â
and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.
your heart sinks at yunhoâs words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingiâs parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.
âi know iâm hot but you donât have to make it that obvious,â he jokes.
you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. âcome sit outside with me for a bit?â you ask mingi.
he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of sanâs shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.
the two of you sit on the embankment just outside sanâs house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, âdid you want to ask me something?â
you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesnât stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.
âi asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,â you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, âis everything okay?â
he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. âi came out to my parents,â he reveals. âtold them iâm bi andâŠthey didnât take it well.â
mingi doesnât need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didnât just ânot take it wellâ. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. âoh, mingi,â you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.
âi also told them that iâm datiââ
the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. itâs yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. âyou might want to take this call,â he alerts you.
frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, âwho is it?â
he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. âyour boyfriend.â
youâre just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.
âoh, shit,â you canât help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.
seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on sanâs surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.
ây/n, iâm going to be honest with you,â he hesitates slightly. âi donât think heâs the right one for you.â
you know that yunhoâs looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but itâs not what you want toâ or need to hear right now. and perhaps, thereâs an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, âiâd know if heâs not.â
you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, âiâm sorry but i should probably call him back. weâll talk later, yeah?â
mingi doesnât know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.
âguess he takes priority over us now,â mingi sighs.
san looks at him bittersweetly, âthatâs what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunhoâs. in fact, youâre the priority of five other people as well.â despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingiâs nose affectionately as he fondly states, âarenât you lucky.â
mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, ânow come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?â
the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, âyou distract him while i cheat?â
âiâm right here,â yunho protests, but heâs shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.
san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of sanâs priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is sanâs priority, as is the happiness of the others.
but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriendâ and by association, youâ becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worseâŠcompletely out of his heart?
youâre just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that heâs displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but youâre not exactly happy with him right now either.
you know an argumentâs brewingâ one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until itâs too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.
âwhy did you call me so many times?â
johnny knows youâre not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.
âi didnât know where you were,â he halfheartedly answers. âi thought something had happened.â
you both know itâs a lieâ a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at sanâs. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.
âi donât like the way they look at you,â johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. âespecially san.â
you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where youâre coming from, too. âwe grew up together, johnny. weâre each otherâs best friend and he doesnât like me like that.â
warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. ânone of them do,â you emphasise. âand iâve been transparent about hanging out with them when youâre not there, havenât i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.â
he hesitates, âi was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didnât reply or answer my callsâŠâ the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.
âand i was busy with my friends, too,â you reason. âyouâre not glued to your phone, and neither am i.â
you continue when he stays silent, âyouâre my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that theyâre my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when iâm with them, but iâll also try to make sure iâm reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.â
you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that heâs disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you canât tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.
when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, âi love you.â
you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimesâ
âi know,â you reply gently, before shutting the door.
âyou learn even more about a person simply from the things that they donât say.
itâs two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.
with autumn just around the corner, youâre spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents arenât in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.
and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and sanâs houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.
a smirk graces johnnyâs lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafeâs terrace. itâs not clearly audible, but itâs definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, âfuckinâ pussies.â
wooyoung immediately reacts. âwhat the fuck did you just say?â he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.
johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, âi wasnât talking to you guys, but i guess if youâre offendedââ
itâs hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. âyou say one more fucking word,â he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.
âand youâll what,â johnny sneers, ârun to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?â
at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. âwatch what you say,â san looks at him dangerously. âdonât bring y/n into this.â
the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.
johnny steps closer and scoffs, âthatâs bullshit. you guys canât even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when sheâs with you guys.â
âand i bet itâs never fucking crossed your mind that maybe itâs an issue with something youâre doingânot us,â wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.
heâs suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnnyâs friends step in as well.
âlook at you, all riled up,â johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. âand she tells me that you donât all want to fuck her?â
seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriendâs face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesnât get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when thereâs a firm shout over the commotion.
the cafe manager harshly warns, âweâre going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise weâre going to call the police.â
âwooyoung! hongjoong!â seonghwa hisses. âitâs not worth the trouble. stop!â
there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.
âyou bitches got lucky this time,â johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.
the manager nods wryly, âyou and your friends are still going to have to leave.â
âwe understand,â seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. âweâre truly sorry.â
as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. âletâs go home,â he declares, âwe can wait there.â
they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. theyâre only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, âso whoâs gonna tell y/n that her boyfriendâs a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?â he fumes. âbecause if no oneâs going to do it, then iâm going to tell her the moment we get home.â
âwooyoung,â seonghwa starts.
âno, donât wooyoung me,â he snaps. âheâs a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i donât even care if we donât ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.â
seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, âlook, i agree with you and iâm not saying we shouldnât tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.â
âi think sheâs going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,â hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.
âthe campfire night is only a few days away,â yeosang points out. âmaybe we should wait until thatâs overâŠyou know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.â
hongjoong protests, âand wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.â
âsurely sheâs not going to bring him. itâs a day just for us,â yeosang frowns.
san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. âi donât know, probably not?â he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. âbut honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i donât see the point in ruining it for any more of us.â
seonghwa agrees and adds on, âand only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, youâre probably the best person out of us.â
san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. âiâll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,â he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, âwe wait.â
thereâs only a few more days until the campfireâ they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?
âare you sure itâs a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?â
seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosangâs lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, âheâs hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.â seonghwa knows hongjoongâs way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he wonât prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.
you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this timeâ only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. itâs been a while since youâve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.
looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, âletâs get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.â
hongjoong cocks his head, âhaneulâs coming?â
â...no,â you look at him carefully, âjohnny is.â
âjohnny? youâre joking.â
you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, âheâs my boyfriend, hongjoong.â johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you werenât about to tell him no.
âand heâs also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?â
you know your boyfriend and your friends still arenât on amicable terms, but youâre honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you canât help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.
âasshole or not, at least heâs honest about his feelings for me,â you retort pointedly.
âoh?â hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, âis that what this is about?â
you challenge him with a glare, âwhat do you think iâm implying?â
âso iâm the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?â
your jaw drops. âyou know what? what the fuck is your problem?â you shove his chest in anger. âletâs not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least iâm willing to admit it.â
you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, âwhat about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.â
hongjoong grits his teeth, âyouâre making a mistake dating him.â
âyeah, you would know something about mistakes,â you throw back sarcastically. âbut then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.â
âdonât fucking put words into my mouth,â he warns.
âit seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship itâs radio silence for a year.â
hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, âi was going to talk to you about it face to face.â
âwhatever, hongjoong. itâs too late,â you brush him off.
you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.
hours later, mingi scans the room from where heâs perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outsideâ everyone except for one.
âwhereâs hongjoong?â he asks nobody in particular. he doesnât think heâs seen the other since theyâve all come back from the grocery store.
âheâs resting in my room,â san answers. âsaid he wasnât feeling too well but heâll join us later.â
you roll your eyes at the knives youâre counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesnât say either, though, is that he knows something is offâ hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.
thereâs an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, âiâll get it.â you know itâs probably johnny so you donât bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, âyou look nice today.â
your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. heâs dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, âwanted to look good.â
you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoongâs uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.
âyou invited johnny?â sanâs question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.
your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, âyes, san. i invited my boyfriend.â
âand why the fuck did you do that?â
sanâs swearing has you reeling in surprise, but itâs quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, âweâve put up with him for long enough, donât you think? itâs one thing for you to date him of all people, but itâs another thing to bring him to this.â
you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. âso you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i canât bring my own boyfriend?â you retort.
the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunhoâs eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, âokay, i think we all need toââ
âwhoever the fuckâare we just âwhoeverâ to you?â wooyoung harshly interrupts. âweâve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?â
you know that you wonât be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, âi didnât ask any of you to look out for me.â
yunhoâs arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoungâs words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, âyou know, y/n. we needed this trip this summerâŠmore than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.â then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.
one by one, the boys follow him out of your houseâ first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince.Â
mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. heâs filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. âi guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,â he chokes out.
your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, âmingi, thatâs notââ
but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your houseâ now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surfaceâ you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out sanâs name. what for, you donât know, but your cry is timid and desperate.
as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs himâ his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.
you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and youâre still in the clothes from last night that you donât recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.
you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, youâre hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadnât tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.
you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. youâll clean everything up when youâre feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.
itâs a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a whileâŠ
you tap on jonghoâs notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, becauseâ
hey, wasnât sure if youâd want to know or not but i think weâre going back to seoul in the morning
the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that itâs already eleven thirty, and thatâs when you hear itâ the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.
a brief flash of relief flickers across jonghoâs face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.
every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. itâs only thursday today and summer doesnât end for another three days, and yetâ
âyou guys are leaving?â you ask apprehensively.
nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.
jongho clears his throat awkwardly, âyeah, weâre heading back early.â
âohâŠâ youâre at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. âdrive safe.â
like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and youâre also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.
as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nodâ anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.
you hesitantly ask him, âiâll see you next summer?â
san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, âdonât count on it,â and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.
as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesnât see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that youâve made your decision and heâs made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day youâll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that youâll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.
before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, âi think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?â
you nod numbly at his words. youâre forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as sanâs jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.
âtheyâre finally leaving, huh.â
thereâs only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, ânot now, johnny.â
âyou honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,â he comments.
âi said not now,â you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.
âi shouldâve just punched them when i had the chance to.â
you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, âjohnny!â
âwhat?â he scowls. âthey were the ones who started it.â
you grow deathly still. âstarted what?â you interrogate, and when he doesnât let up, you step in closer. âjohnny?â
âlook, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fuckerâwooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. heâs lucky i let him off the hook,â he sneers.
youâve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriendâs recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.
âdonât you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,â you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?
âare you fucking serious right now?â johnny spits in your face, âyouâre defending them? you always take their fucking side even though iâm your boyfriend.â
you spit right back, âand you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.â
johnnyâs expression drops entirely. âare you breaking up with me right now?â
âyes, i am.â you confirm. âweâre over.â
you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you donât bother trying to hold back your cries.
all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.
you want to seek out one of the boys for comfortâ seonghwa or sanâ but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that thatâs no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but itâs much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.
in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, itâs you against the worldâŠand the eight of them.
haneul takes all but one look at you before sheâs making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that thereâs no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.
the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, âsan messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.â
you slouch in on yourself, âwe fought.â
as surprising as it is to hear, since sheâs never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brotherâs vague reasons. she probes, âabout what?â
you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.
haneulâs quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. âdid they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?â she finally questions.
you shake your head and she asks, âthen did you try talking to them about it?â
you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didnât think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.
âwhat do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reasonâor did the criticism from the boys just become too much?
fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. âhe was a decent guyâŠup until summer and the boys came over. thatâs when he started acting differently and,â you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, âbecame an asshole.â
she nods, waiting as you elaborate, âhe became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasnât present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.â
the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. ây/n,â she stares at you seriously. âare you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?â
her question stuns you because itâs quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, âthink about it before you answer me.â
you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnnyâŠyou had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.
but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. thereâs a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, âthe argument.â
she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, âi think so too.â
promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, âwhat am i going to do without them?â
âcome here,â she whispers.
she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you donât know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesnât let go of youâ not until you make the first move to pull away.
haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, ây/n, i think thereâs more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like youâve lost your closest friends.â
your throat is scratchy when you mumble, âwhat do you mean?â
âi canât tell you because thatâs something that youâre going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think youâve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.â
you know sheâs right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. âwhat if they donât answer my messages or calls? what if they really donât come back next summer?â what if they hate me forever?
haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, âif they take a step back, then why donât you take two steps forward?â
her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, âyou meanâŠâ
âyes, y/n,â haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.
âgo to seoul and talk to them.â
summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.
in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneulâs arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that youâll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to sanâ a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fineâ that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.
the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.
youâve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jonghoâs birthday. youâre unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.
currently, the text cursor in jonghoâs chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once moreâ itâs now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. itâs a simple message; only reading two lines.
happy birthday jongho how have you been?
really, you mean âhow have you all been?â because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.
you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you donât care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messagesâ that is, if any come at all. but jonghoâs last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isnât entirely lost.
the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, thereâs a reply waiting for you.
thanks y/n, iâve been good
itâs simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.
i miss you
really, jongho means âwe all miss youâ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.
his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.
can we call?
your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. thereâs a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you donât know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.
the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, âhello?â
âhello?â comes jonghoâs reply.
your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, âcan you hear meââ âhiâyes, can you hear me?â
âyeah, i can hear you too, hi,â you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.
the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jonghoâs happiness. youâre reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping handsâ the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?
âthank you for replying to my message, jongho,â your voice is unsteady.
he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, âno, thank you for reaching out first.â and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. âsorry i didnât do it firstâŠit must have been hard for you all this time.â
and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesnât matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you donât have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesnât matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he canât hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that youâre both talking again.
as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time itâs only with jongho.
âwhat about you? have you been busy?â
you nod, even though he canât see you over the call, âiâm trying to keep up with classes but itâs hard with all the assignments due soon.â
âyeah, i have another huge film project and itâs taking up all of my time, too,â he exhales, then tentatively asks, âwhat aboutâŠhowâre things with johnny?â
itâs strangely exciting to clarify, âwe actually broke up a few months ago.â
you can hear jonghoâs sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoungâs nosiness as jongho asks, âplease tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.â
âyes, i broke up with him,â you chuckle. âhe talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.â
âhe deserved it,â he gleefully states.
âonly i get to mess with my friendsâŠliterally.â
the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.
âitâs actually sort of funny you say that,â jongho muses over the phone. âremember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?â
you hum in affirmation, âsan and i picked love.â
âand look at you, picking us over johnny,â he teases.
huffily, you banter, âpicked you guys even though you all left me.â
thereâs the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but itâs cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, âhey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.â
you resist the urge to ask why heâs even there in the first place, but you just tell him that itâs okay, considering how late the time is anyway.
âiâll talk to you tomorrow?â
âyeah, tomorrow,â you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then thereâs a voice in the background asking, âis that y/n?â
but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you donât let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jonghoâs last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenagerâ tomorrow feels too far away.
but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only itâs not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?
it makes sense at first to think thatâs what has happened, but youâre suddenly reminded of haneulâs wordsâ that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that meansâŠthe heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first lovesâ because you are in love with all of them.
that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be containedâ itâs time for you to talk to them.
you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, âi need your helpâ.
and the reply is immediate.
anything you need
itâs the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.
you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you donât plan on staying for long so you didnât bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. thereâs a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jonghoâs familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.
the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think youâre able to make out jonghoâs side profile leaning against a brick wall.
except, heâs not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, heâs the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.
ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.
seonghwaâs eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.
âiâm sorry, hwaâ you murmur.
âi know,â he whispers, stroking the back of your head, âme too.â
jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwaâs cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to sayâ poems of apologies and ballads of confessionsâ for now, this is more than enough.
seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. âhang on, are you and johnny stillâŠâ he trails off.
despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, youâre touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. âdonât worry, we broke up,â you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. âyou told him i was coming up to seoul, but didnât tell him that johnnyâs my ex now?â
he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, âthat wasnât in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.â
said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, âwhat was he doing in your dorm anyway?â
âhe crashed for the night. our dormâs close to his workplace.â
when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.
âthanks, hwa,â you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.
âgreat, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and iâve already become the third wheel,â jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.
despite the huffiness in his voice, jonghoâs heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheelâ even the ninth wheelâ if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.
âready to go?â jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.
are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; youâre not going into this alone anymore. you nod, âiâm ready.â
the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, youâre standing right outside the door to jonghoâs shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.
you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intrudingâ which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here donât know that youâre in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so itâs fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.
you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosangâs faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoongâs bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.
âholy shit,â yunho whispers.
thatâs enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, âwhat the fuck is she doing here?â
wooyoung looks at jongho, âis this why you told everyone to come over?â
you defend, âi was the one who asked jongho for help.â
âi wasnât talking to youââ
you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, âcan you just shut the fuck up for once? iâm not here to start another fight. justâhear me out, please. iâll leave as soon as i say what i need to.â
he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.
you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. youâve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. âiâŠiâm sorry,â you start.
somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. âiâm sorry for being such an asshole over the summerâfor letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasnât a good guy. i shouldnât have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.
âin particular, iâm sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesnât excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said canât be taken back, even if i didnât mean them.â
nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.
even if he isnât looking, you apologise to him directly, âmingi, iâm sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for youâfor all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didnât feel that wayâŠbecause of me. i mean it when i say youâll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, youâll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.â
you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what youâre going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you donât have to see their expressions. âitâs taken this fightâalmost losing all of youâand breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friendsâŠbut you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and âwhoeverâ. i think iâm in love with all of you and i know itâs unconventional, butâŠi guess love has no limits.
âbut iâm also going to be honest. iâm still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasnât your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.
âi donât expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i donât expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelingsâŠif you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again orâŠmaybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.â
thereâs half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one anotherâ be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.
âyouâre leaving already? where are you going?â yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.
âback to namhae,â you explain. âi booked a return ticket for the same day.â
san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. âyou came all the way hereâŠjust to talk to us for half an hour?â
you give him a bittersweet smile, âthatâs how important this is to meâhow important you all are to me.â
he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.
âwait,â yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. âhere.â
he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and youâre starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.
youâre accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when youâre in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.
you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.
a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.
youâve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you havenât been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale hasâ or will tip.
so you donât walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, thereâs something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. youâre doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.
that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like heâs fourteen again, knocking on yunhoâs door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that itâs his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingiâs nervous because itâs you and heâs nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.
youâre greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise itâs mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks goodâ a little too goodâ and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. youâre down bad, and itâs only been ten seconds since youâve laid eyes on him since seoul.
mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, âcome surf with us?â
the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if youâve somehow missed the memo that heâs forgiven you. âyouâre all okay with me coming?â you blink confusedly.
âthe others can speak for themselves,â he puts it plainly, but then smiles, âi want you to come, though. itâs not the same without you. plus,â his voice mellows out earnestly, âsomeoneâs gotta welcome me home, donât you think?â
home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.
shyly, you return his smile, âiâll go get changed, then?â
âis that an invite inside?â mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.
he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. âtake your time,â he reassures. âiâll wait for you.â
and he does, just so that you donât have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined himâ you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.
âwhat if itâs too late?â yunho asks.
âyou donât know that, not until you try,â mingi replies. âhere, a kiss for good luck.â
you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, youâve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you canât say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now youâre suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.
but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.
for the second time of the day, youâre absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because heâs also wearing a black tank top much like mingiâs, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.
not that youâre complaining. but itâs also very distracting when youâre trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.
âyou guys go ahead, i think jonghoâs calling for me,â mingi suddenly announces before darting off.
youâre left alone with yunho, and from the back of jonghoâs head who most definitely doesnât even know you three have joined the group, mingiâs plan to slip away has succeeded.
âum,â yunho hesitantly starts, âdo you want to try paddling out on my board? iâll stay close.â
the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although youâre not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things donât need to be spelt outâ the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.
as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.
âhere,â yunho says, garnering your attention.
he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that youâre not really trying to paddle and heâs not really watching for mistakes.
eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunhoâs arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.
it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each otherâs presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.
from afar, wooyoungâs internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands trueâ you make the boys happy and itâs obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.
the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.
and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same againâ summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san andâ
yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadnât initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. youâre unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, âwhereâs hongjoong?â
yunhoâs eyes donât meet yours and wooyoungâs mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, âhe didnât come.â
san likes to think that heâs patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.
but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you heâs forgiven you and that heâs sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.
but his body is acting as if itâs an entirely separate entity from his heart. heâs unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and itâs as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attemptsâ or lack thereofâ because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.
a quick look at his phone tells san that heâs been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.
thereâs a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. youâre sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. thereâs a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.
you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneulâs room. tension doesnât exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san andâŠavoidance with hongjoong.
âcouldnât sleep?â you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.
san shakes his head, âyou?â
âgot thirsty,â you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.
he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. itâs only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why youâre not making a move to get waterâ heâs still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.
âthanks, sannie.â
it doesnât register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, âyouâre welcome, pipsqueak.â
it tugs a smile out of your lips. âhavenât heard that in a while,â you muse. âkind of miss it.â
and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. âiâm sorry, y/n,â he whispers. âi know how badly i hurt you.â
the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. âiâll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasnât one of usâwasnât me, because it didnât look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.â
you acknowledge sadly, âseonghwa told me what happened. iâm sorry he was like that.â
âthatâs not on you to apologise,â san refutes. âi was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.â
âi guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both werenât aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,â you chuckle wryly.
his voice wavers, âiâm meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and iâm so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.â
you canât help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, âare you calling my ex the problem?â
âexactly that,â he deadpans. âwe all did.â
you nod, âthank you for trying to let me know, even when i didnât listen.â
âno, iâm sorry we didnât explain ourselves more clearlyâor earlier.â
âbut you have now, and i understand,â you reassure.
he nods gratefully before hesitating, âthereâs something else behind all this that i canât tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things areâŠokay with hongjoong again, thatâs when weâll tell you.â
something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so farâ your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.
perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you donât dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust himâ because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.
âthen are we okay now?â you ask, needing the confirmation.
âyeah,â he smiles breathlessly, âmore than okay.â
the caverns of sanâs dimplesâ the ones you love so muchâ shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.
san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he canât, not yet. not until youâve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until youâve had a talk togetherâ all nine of you.
he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneulâs bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, âlet me tuck you back into bed.â
and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.
your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoongâs face.
when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?
âoh shit,â you curse, when it registers in your brain.
hongjoong is here and youâve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boysâ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.
âsure, why donât you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,â hongjoong scowls.
immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, âwell, if youâre offeringâŠâ
âoh, fuck off,â he raises his middle finger at you.
you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, âyeah, back into my house that youâre standing in front of.â
âfor godâs sakeâkim hongjoong!â seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of sanâs door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesnât happen. âyouâre here to apologise!â
hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, âcan i come in?â
âdepends,â you cross your arms defiantly. âare you going to try and kick me out?â
despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if thereâs no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to haveâ before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.
âgeez! okay!â you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.
you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. itâs awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that youâre alone. âi didnât think you would come,â you break the silence.
he hums softly, âme neither.â
you donât know how to respond so you donât, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, âi wasâam ashamed of myself.â
youâve been there beforeâ on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.
âiâve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and iâve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didnât talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your exâŠwhy i didnât just kiss you.â
you canât help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.
hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, âi did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldnât have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didnât think my apology would be good enough. so iâm sorry for all the things i said and did, but iâm also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.â
he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, âwill you forgive me?â
thereâs not a moment of hesitation before youâre closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, âi forgive you. there are a lot of things iâm ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and thatâs what helps us to grow.â
âyou still like me?â he mumbles into your neck.
you laugh at the ticklish feeling, âvery much so, hongjoong.â because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.
only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, youâre suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still donât know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peaceâ the nine of you against the world once more.
âletâs go find the rest of the boys?â you ask.
he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, âletâs go.â
just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, âwhy are these here?â
you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sitâ the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. âyou know who they belong to?â
âyeah,â he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. âi bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.â
it was san who hid them in your coat.
you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their sideâ an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost donât want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.
and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.
once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that thatâs exactly the reasonâ no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.
itâs why yunho knocks his forehead against mingiâs just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. itâs why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if heâs just as strong, and itâs why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.
but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they donât seem to be simply âpaired offâ. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when heâs tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each otherâs company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoongâs ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.
rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isnât with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because itâs much harder to tell what kind of love theyâre giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.
san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides itâs time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosangâs jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.
âokay, so whoâs telling her?â yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latterâs lips.
âwhat? how else are we meant to start the conversation?â wooyoung complains before mocking, âthe reason i have gathered you all here todayââ
rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, âare you all dating each other?â
wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.
âhowâd you know?â yeosang startles.
seonghwa agrees, âi didnât think we were that obvious,â but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, heâs quick to amend, âokay, maybe we were.â
san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, âweâve been dating each other for just over a year nowâso before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but weâre happy like this.â
âonce our relationship had settled down a little, thatâs when i came out to my parents,â mingi adds, âwhich didnât go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, butâŠother things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.â
yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, âitâs long overdue, but weâre telling you now.â
the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. âiâm happy for you guys,â you affirm sincerely. âi donât think thereâs anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.â
you truly do. youâre thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it mustâve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then youâre reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?
said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. âwhy does it sound like youâre just wishing us well?â
âam i not allowed to do that as your friend?â you mirror his expression.
âgod,â hongjoong exhales. âdo you think weâre telling you this just to reject you?â
âof all people to say thatârub it in my face, why donât you,â you grumble.
he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, âwait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?â
the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.
âyou confessedââ ââi thought we agreed to confess togetherââ ââtrust you to cut in line! thatâs not fair!â
your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoongâs direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.
âhold the fuck up,â you yell over the commotion. âconfess what?â
âhow did you figure out that weâre in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?â yeosang judges you.
âi didnât want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i justâŠâ
âassumed we didnât have feelings for you,â seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.
wooyoung deadpans, âwe may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.â
âall of you?â you ask in disbelief.
âall of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,â mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.
âyouâre one to talk about hiding your feelings,â hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, âmingi wouldnât shut up about you after he met you.â
mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.
âlook,â jongho cuts in, âwhat weâre trying to say is that weâve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then weâd like to take our relationship with you to the next step.â
how many times have you wanted this momentâ for all of them to return your confession. but now that itâs actually becoming a reality, itâs honestly a little daunting. âyouâre all serious about this?â
a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.
yunho answers on everyoneâs behalf, âweâre very serious.â
you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazesâ that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.
it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, ây/n, will you be our girlfriend?â
like san once said, itâs hard to find friends you love, but itâs even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and youâve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decideâ so you make your choice.
âi forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?â san pokes his head in through the doorway.
you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, âdonât count on it.â
sanâs pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, âyouâre never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?â but he canât hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.
âhongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung canât step away just yet. but theyâll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.â
as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. âitâs so hard to align everyoneâs schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,â you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of sanâs hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.
âme too, love,â another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle sanâs hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. âbut we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.â
seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what youâre used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.
you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, âwe could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.â
âwell can you really blame us for being madly in love,â seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.
âthatâs true. your beds are always warmer than mine,â you agree.
âexactly. now come on, are you ready to go?â
the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybodyâs clothes separate once youâd all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.
as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, âwooyoung?â
his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, âhongjoong? i thought you two werenât coming until next week?â
wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. âwe caught up with the schedule,â he exclaims happily. âyou shouldâve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.â
you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug youâre in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, âdid you miss me?â
forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, âwhy didnât i get a kiss?â so san pulls him in for one to appease him. youâd never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.
one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and sanâs old home. so it doesnât take long to carry your surfboardsâ save for you; the boys like it when you use theirsâ and towels down to the shore.
you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. itâs a bittersweet emotion, knowing that itâs already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.
some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. youâve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that youâre allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.
san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so itâs very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)
youâre content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in insteadâ and fails miserablyâ all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up.Â
âit wasnât me!â the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingiâs neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.
not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.
you donât think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.
on this dayâ the last day of summer in namhaeâ you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesnât matter to you, not anymore.
the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.
our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom
genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 37.6k
c/w: sweaty and athletic ateez (warning well deserved), explicit profanity, themes of corruption and rocky family relationships, trauma, hurt/comfort, injuries, kissing, boys are in an established relationship, m x m interactions
synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.
a/n: it has made me incredibly touched to see so many of my readers from the essence of youth come back to support this new oneshot. thank you from the bottom of my heart ⥠and as always, this fic would not have been possible without @sorryimananti-romantic and her undying support
if someone were to ask yunhoâor anybody on the teamâwhen he feels the most alive, his answer would be the same every single time: when he is on the ice, just like he is right now.
the air of the rink is already chilly, but with the added cold of emerging autumn, each rugged lungful he takes fills his chest with vigour. only his own heavy breathing can be heard as the rest of the playersâ shouts become muffled into the background outside of his helmet. he tightens his grip on his stick, muscles locked and engaged with adrenaline. his vision narrows, an opening suddenly clearing itself through the tangle of sticks and jungle of skatesâa golden opportunity for him to take.
âsan!â he yells.
their usual goaltender glances upwards as he handles the puck rebounding off the boards. his jaw tightens and with a practised flick of his wrist, san chips the puck over an incoming stickâs attempt to block the pass. thereâs a burst of explosive power as yunho speeds up along the opposite boards to receive the landing puck, hoping to break away from the opposing teamâs offensive players before he passes it off.
the flash of a blue jersey appears in yunhoâs vision with alarming momentum. they lower and widen their stance, shoulder positioned in front ready to knock him directly into the boards in an attempt to steal the puck, leaving yunho with no choice but to mirror their actions. he braces himself as the opponent rams into him with more force than a usual play, and in combination with their own towering height, yunho finds himself being pushed into the plexiglass panels as he loses possession of the puck.
involuntarily, he lets out a threatening growl of vexation. there is a teasing chuckle from the other player that still has him pinned against the wall despite the continuing game, which clearly tells him that the excessive body check was deliberate. yunho has half a mind to flip their positions, knowing he could easily overpower the other. but before he can adjust his stick out of the way to make good use of his hands, the opponent playfully knocks their helmets together.
âyouâre hot when you get all competitive and riled up.â
all of the tension escapes yunhoâs body, because he will never not find mingiâs attempts to flirt mid-gameâwith his mouthguard and resultant bumbling pronunciationâto be amusing. he endearingly rolls his eyes and sighs, âhave you not heard of, âdonât poke the bearâ?â
âyouâre not a bear, though,â mingi squirms cheekily on the spot, still up in yunhoâs personal space because he knows the older will never be truly annoyed by his antics. âyouâre just a cute, harmless puppy.â
before mingi can blink, yunho grabs him by the shoulders and pins him against the wall. yunho smirks, âand they also say, âlet sleeping dogs lieâ.â
wooyoung tongues his cheek with mischief at the sight of the two, nice and cosy against the walls of the rink. he hands his stick off to seonghwa, who is starting to remove his helmet, and skates in their direction, ignoring the dull throb in his left ankle. wooyoung only bothers to slow himself down slightly, instead letting his trajectory be cushioned by something else.
mingi lets out a pathetic noise as the air is squeezed out of his chest from the impact of wooyoung and yunhoâs added weight. the latter grunts out, a little breathless, âwoo, please, youâre going to knock somebody out like this one day.â
it goes in one ear and out the other as wooyoung grins up at him to state, âseonghwa scored so we lost âcause you were too busy making out with mister mingles here.â
yunho pushes off the wall to free himself from the sandwich of bodies and pivots on his skates to jab wooyoungâs padded chest. âyou and san were doing the exact same thing just five minutes ago.â
âweâre on the same team,â wooyoung shrugs, âwhereas mingi is not, so youâre fraternising with the enemy. now come on losers, captainâs wrapping up practice.â
the three of them glide along the ice to rejoin the rest of the team, where they are stepping out of the rink to sit on the benches. they remove their helmets and start unlacing their skates as hongjoong gathers the attention of the team.
âgreat work from everybody today, especially you, jongho. your backhand wrist shots are improvingâkeep it up. now just a reminder to everyone that our regular games start next week so i want you all to make sure you are stretching and cooling down properly,â he emphasises. he pointedly looks at yeosang, who has already begun to wander his way off to the changerooms, at the same time that seonghwa scruffs him by the back of his jersey and gently tugs him back to the team.
jongho peels off his blue practice jersey as he scans the arena and absentmindedly asks, âis coach still not here? itâs already the end of practice.â
âhe said he had something to sort out today, but would come round if everything went well,â seonghwa answers, also craning his neck to look for signs of their coach.
from where you and coach cho are watching from the designated scouting area in the arena, the team is unable to spot you two. you had come from the final negotiations of your contract with coach cho and had watched their team, the red devils, play the last period of their game. despite it only being a friendly match amongst the teamâs players, you have already grasped a sense of their playing styleâit is heavy on the offensive at the expense of defence, just like how you used to play. it is fast-paced, aggressive andâŠprone to injury.
âletâs go meet the team,â coach cho voices, making his way out of the viewing area as you follow beside him. all the players look up from their skates that they are still unlacing or from their stretches on the floor when you two near the arrangement of benches surrounding the rink. they greet coach cho enthusiastically and you can see why from the way the older man smiles at them like they are his own sons.
ây/n, this is the team, the red devilsâmy pride and joy. boys, this is y/n,â he introduces. âi had to miss practice to meet up with y/n and make sure she was happy to sign on as part of the red devils.â
said team gives you disinterested glances, a complete change from the receptivity with which they respond to coach cho. one of the red-jerseyed boys, who you recognise as wooyoung, utters sarcastically, âcute, but we donât need a mascot or cheerleader.â
coach cho chuckles lightly, âsheâs your new coach.â
âhold on, you were serious aboutââ ââare you coaching a different teamââ ââyou donât want us anymore?â
some of the boys erupt into a barrage of questions, trying to make sense of the sudden announcement, whereas the others stay quiet, flickers of flashbacks stirring up from within the depths of their memories. their coach raises his hands to settle them as he apologises, âi didnât want to say anything before i was one hundred percent sure that things would go ahead, and i wasnât sure whether y/n would accept the offer.â
âis it because your wife is due soon?â san interrupts.
coach cho nods, âwith twins, and i want to be present to helpâas a husband and a father. but that just isnât feasible as your coach, as much as i love you boys.â
training as professional athletes takes incredible perseverance, discipline and commitment. there are early mornings, late nights, weekends and public holidays. it takes sacrifices in the form of time and relationships, especially when they must travel away from home for up to weeks on end to compete in matches. and with the start of the regular season, the intensity is only going to ramp up. as hard as the athletes train, the coach works twice as hard to make it all possible.
the team needs somebody to be there for them to ensure they make it into the playoffs, and it just wonât be fair for anybodyâthe players and his own familyâif coach cho were to keep his position. and the team gets it, they really do, butâ
âsheâs the new coach?â yunho frowns in confusion. âno offence, but weâre not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.â
âshe was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,â coach cho discloses.
âthe grey eagles? the under-21 menâs championship team?â yeosang looks incredulous.
mingi sceptically comments, âthe fact that weâve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.â
hongjoongâs lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the teamâs captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the teamâs entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus farâfive years, now well into their sixthâthe red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.
the teamâs alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, âif you donât mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? youâre clearly our ageânowhere near retiring.â
you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. âi stopped playing.â
âhow come?â
the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, âi chose to stop playing.â you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the teamâs hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.
your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.
âi would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,â hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, âsorry, but i canât respect a âcoachâ who chose to stop playing.â
at the captainâs words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. sanâs feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, âour team needs a bit of time. itâs hard for us to warm up toâŠoutsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. donât expect us to blindly trust you just because youâre a coach.â
the use of the word âoutsiderâ does not go unnoticed as you nod, âof course.â
san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, âguess some things havenât changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.â
you raise an eyebrow, âprickly? to you?â
âyes, believe it or not,â he chuckles nostalgically. âweâve come a long way because iâve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.â
you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, âwhat would you have done if i didnât sign the contract?â
âbegged you to rethink your decision,â he jokes with a pleased chortle. âi would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.â
âbut why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.â
he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, âyouâre familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.â at your silent processing, coach cho probes, âwhy didnât you tell them the real reason?â
you smile wistfully, âi didn't tell them because iâm not here to gain their pity.â
some of the boysâ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, âcaptain, is she really going to be our new coach?â
they step out from the facilityâs corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, âmaybe, but sheâs only the coach by title. iâm still the captain of the team, so letâs see who everyone listens to.â
as they exit the rinkâs arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships beforeâthis is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.
âi may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete, and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. iâm here to earn the teamâs respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.â
you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arenaâs perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.
autumn, 2018: pre-season
hongjoong believes all coaches are to be respected. it does not matter what kind of team they coach, how many years of experience they have, or whether they have built up a reputation for themselves. to hongjoong, respect for coaches is not something earned nor negotiableâit is something well-deserved and expected, as is for anybody in a position that is higher in the chain of command.
he may be the captain of their unofficial team, but hongjoong knows that the way a team can place their blind trust in the coach is irreplaceable, regardless of how much the other players rely on him too.
hongjoong watches as his boys carry out the practice drill he has set up for them. yeosang handles the puck around the cones before passing it to wooyoung, primed offensively near the goal to make a quick shot, who groans when his shot rebounds off the post. as he retrieves the disc, yeosang takes over wooyoungâs position near the goal ready to receive yunhoâs pass as he starts to work his way through the cones next.
they are limited in the type of drills they can practise because hongjoong was only able to rent half of the community rink for a measly two hours. the boys are not even in proper uniform, wearing only their shin guards under their sweatpants and gloves on their hands to prevent any injuries when the centre had stated very firmly they would not be allowed in with their bulky equipment.
and yet, none of this has dampened the boysâ spirits. san teasingly brags that it is his chance to show off his skills other than goaltending, and jongho thanks hongjoong quietly for renting the rink in the first place. their understanding nods and comforting hugs make hongjoongâs heart clench, even more so as the team eagerly and diligently practise the drills in mediocre conditions but with fiery determination to prove their worth as newly-signed athletes under the kq blue birds.
this is exactly why hongjoong is driven to find them a coachâany coach: to give his boys a solid pillar they can rely on, because he himself lacks the resources and strings to pull in order to fulfil their shared dreams. he needs to keep his boys as one team, instead of scattered into other teams as extra players like a gracious opportunity for the leftovers, since kq does not yet have a coach available for the eight of them.
âcaptain!â
the excitement in seonghwaâs voice startles hongjoong more than the speed at which the alternate captain skates towards him. seonghwa digs his skates into the ice at the last second, stopping himself just shy of knocking the other over as he exclaims, âhe emailed back!â
âthe coach you reached out to?â hongjoong clarifies, eyes growing wide.
having caught wind of his signed contract as a professional athlete, an acquaintance of seonghwaâs had reached out offering to pass on the contact of their acquaintance, who apparently knew somebody with coaching experience. it was rare for a coach to take on a rookie team unless there were incredible benefits, so he and hongjoong had drafted and sent an email with little to no expectations for a reply. but seonghwaâs furious nodding is telling otherwise, and his eyes sparkle as he shoves his phone in hongjoongâs face to show him the email.
dear mr park, thank you for your interest and for reaching out with your proposal. i have looked at your athlete profiles and it appears that you all have big dreams and extremely promising futures. it would be my utmost pleasure to help you all reach your true potential by coaching your team. if you would like to arrange a meeting in person to discuss expectations and conditions regarding training, competitions and future championships prior to finalising the contracts with your company, please let me know what times and dates best suit yourself and your team captain, mr kim. i look forward to working with you all. kind regards, coach yeon
âholy shit,â hongjoong steadies seonghwaâs giddy hand to read the email again. when he reaches the last line, he starts once more from the beginning to make sure his eyes are not lying to him. then he breathes out with finality, âholy shit. am i reading this right?â
âyeah, joong. youâre reading it right.â
hongjoong is not often one to be affectionate with the others, but yanking seonghwa into a bone-crushing hug as he repeats holy shit like a mantra is the only response he is able to muster. the older laughs wetly, throat constricting with overwhelming joy and he holds onto his captain until the other pulls back.
âyou tell them, okay?â seonghwa does not wait for a response before he is raising his voice to gather the others, âboys! hongjoong has good news for us!â
like puppies responding to the call of food, their heads immediately perk up and they abandon the puck and the drill to speed towards their two captains. there is a clamour of questions as they enthusiastically predict what is going to be said.
âare they letting us use the rink for longer?â
wooyoung squeezes himself in between yunho and mingi to ask, âare we getting the whole rink?!â
âno way,â san gasps, âor did our practice jerseys arrive?â
hongjoongâs eyes soften at their guesses. his boys demand so little from him when he wants to give them everything they could never even think of asking for. he glances at seonghwa, who looks just about ready to burst from his own excitement, then reveals, âweâve found a coach willing to take on our team.â
dead silence. yeosang blinks and wooyoungâs jaw drops. jongho, who had been lazily circling around the group, comically slows to a stop, joining the rest of the boys in frozen stupor. it is only broken when yunho dares to confirm, âdoes this mean we wonât be rostered as extras for other teams?â
everyoneâs hopeful eyes look at hongjoong. he nods, âweâre staying together and playing as our own team.â
it is obvious the moment the information registers in their minds and the implications of what it means for the teamâs future starts to sink in. they explode into a flurry of movement and hongjoong and seonghwa find themselves swept up into the middle of a clumsy group huddle as shouts are exchanged, uncaring of who is listening or talking.
âare we finally playing in championships with the big dogs?â
âweâre going to play interstate?â
âoh my god, what if we get into nationals?â
ânah, fuck that boys, letâs go international! weâre going to represent korea one day and become the best team in the world.â
the amount of voices overlapping one another are overwhelming, but it is overwhelming in the way that it makes hongjoong soar up into the clouds, wings stretched to their full span and carried by the hollers and cheers surrounding him in every direction. his cheeks hurt from smiling because these are the boys that he knows and loves.
they may only be a small team of eight, but they have dreams that are big enough to fill the entire universe.
âwhatâs the coaches nameââ ââknow if theyâre a good coachââ ââteams have they coached beforeââ
seonghwa chuckles as the boys hound them with question after question and hongjoong appeases their curiosity dotingly, âweâll find out when we meet himâcoach yeon.â
but it does not matter what qualifications coach yeon has or does not have, and it does not matter what teams he has coached or has not coached before. what matters is that he is a coach and he is willing to be their coach, because it means that hongjoong and his boys are finally taking the next step towards their big dreams.Â
and most importantly, they will be in this togetherâŠas the red devils.
autumn, present: regular season
âagain.â
hongjoong grits his teeth, taking up his position as centre again in the marked circle for the practice drill. even during defensive faceoff plays, he and the team are accustomed to taking on an aggressive approach. when he wins possession of the puck, the wingersâusually yeosang and wooyoung, or jongho when substituted onâquickly breakaway and move forward with him into the offensive zone.
obviously, they have other strategic plays too to switch up the predictability of their tactics, such as moving the puck towards the board whilst yeosang covers him, or by passing the puck back to the mingi in defence. but overall, their team is capable of rapidly flipping from defensive to offensive play using the aggressive setup.
the practice drill you are currently running emphasises heavily on the defenceâthe reverse setup play. hongjoong is to pass backwards but in the direction of the boards whilst yeosang supports and wooyoung covers the area directly between the circle and san. mingi moves towards the boards to receive the puck, and their other defenceman, yunho, assists with covering the goal.
hongjoong does admit that this play is much safer and stabler, but it is also much slower andâŠcowardly. his team is called the red devils for a reason and their reputation as demons on ice is not something that he is going to throw awayânot following years of blood, sweat and tears to stand back up after falling during their rookie year.
when he assumes his stance once again inside the faceoff circle opposite seonghwa, who is playing the centre position as the mock opponent, you drop the puck onto the centre dot. the moment it hits the ice, hongjoong clears it with his stick towards the right boards. it doesnât go back far enough for mingi to receive though, so yeosang makes the split decision to burst sideways to retrieve the puck, all three forwards moving aggressively in synchronisation to advance offensively once he gains possession.
you stop them, shaking your head. âagain.â
it has been a week since your first meeting with the team, and with the start of the regular season, training has focused on refining their strategies. the red devils are playing in the korean ice hockey league for the second time, an annual national championship with a singular menâs division.
teams from all over korea gather in seoul to compete in regular-season games at the gangneung ice arena against the other teams in rotation. depending on the number of participants, the red devils will need to play an average of three games a week for the next five to six months. then based on the outcome of the games, if your team scores within the top thirty two, they will be able to enter the playoffs.
last year, the red devils were only able to make it to the quarterfinals before they were knocked out. but considering it was their first time competing in a proper championshipâas opposed to the rookie leagues and interstate competitions they competed in during the first four years of their careerâmaking it into the top eight teams out of over a hundred or so teams was already impressive enough.
your teamâs first regular-season game starts tomorrow, so it does not matter that this is the sixth time in a row that you have stopped them during this drill. you will make them restart until they perfect the play. with that in mind, you release the puck onto the centre dot of the circle once more, but this time seonghwa wins the faceoff, clearing it to the side where jongho is waiting as his left wing. seonghwa looks at you guiltily and anticipates the word that will come out of your mouth.
you bite your tongue, having sensed the rising tension amongst the team an hour ago, but now they are almost at their boiling point. closing your eyes briefly, you try reminding yourself to think about the situation from your playersâ perspectives.
their career progression rides on this championship, and with their grit and determination, they will not settle for simply beating their own record in ranking. no, they vie for first place. only the top team secures a position in the international ice hockey league, the most coveted opportunity to represent korea in the championship between the worldâs best teams.
and it is during this vital timeâwhen the stress levels and stakes are as high as they can getâthat the boys have suddenly had to change coaches. not only have they lost their most trusted support and guide, they have only had one week to adjust to their new oneâyou. in the grand scheme of things, one week is nowhere near enough time to develop any sort of meaningful relationship where they are able to listen to and rely on you.
taking a breath, you explain, âbeing so focused on offence leaves your team vulnerable if the opposing team also has aggressive forwards that you canât break through. the faceoff play needs to be adjusted for those situations, otherwise itâll be too difficult to control the puck and it will more than likely end up in chaos. it wonât be a game of professional skill anymore, but a circus of dirty play.â
your defence-focused coaching style has worked well for all the past teams you have taught, both menâs and womenâs teams. you know that the boys play an offence-focused style; you are reminded too closely of your past self every time they rush head-on into every situation. and it is exactly because of thatâbecause you know the dangers that come with their aggressive styleâthat you are making them adjust their play. their career comes first and if they suffer an injury, there may not be a career left.
so you will play the bad cop if you have to. they will come to understand you one day.
san bites down on his mouthguard as he listens from his position in the goal. he is able to see each and every play unfold, better than any other of his teammates, so he knows where you are coming from. whilst he has become used to the pressures that come with goaltending, no amount of training or competitions will ever fully eliminate the sudden spike in fear and anticipation the moment the opposing teamâs forwards break past yunho and mingi.
san is the teamâs last line of defence and the best outcome is that a game never comes down to just him, the opponentâs stick, and his goal. it is true that his team needs to work on their defensive plays, so when the others huff in defiance and reluctantly reset their positions, san simply lowers his centre of gravity in wait for your cue to restart the drill.
âagain.â
outside the arena, the echo of sticks and scraping of skates sound faintly as the first leaf of autumn begins to fall to the ground. as time passes, the rest of the leaves will also succumb to a similar fate, only differing in how. some will fall in a slow and graceful descent, whilst othersâŠ
âŠa rapid and spiralling whirlwind downwards.
counting the heads and finding all eight of your players seated in the bus, you nod to the driver to close the door and start driving. most of the boys have chosen to sit on a two-seater by themselves, only yunho and mingi choosing to sit together. they share a set of wired earphones, eyebrows furrowed in concentration at one of their phones, likely monitoring one of their own matches or one of another teamâs.
the rest of the boys sit alone, faces grim and tight as they stare out the window. they look exactly like you used to and it hits you with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.
the ride to the competition venueâmuch less for the very first game of the seasonâis always the quietest, air strung tight with nerves as everyone prepares themselves psychologically for the inevitable pressures that the game will bring. being able to compose and centre oneâs mindset is already half the battle won, and whilst nobody says it out loud, you all know that todayâs results, despite it only being day one, will set the tone for the next four to five months as they fight to qualify for the playoffs.
as you make one final sweep from the back of the bus to the front whilst it pulls away from the curb, you accidentally make eye contact with yeosang. you give him a polite smile and he opens his mouth, closes it on second thought, then decides to ask anyway, âdo you want to sit here?â
it is a lie to say that you are not surprised by the question, so you stumble over your response as you stammer, âoh, okay. thanks.â
yeosang reciprocates your noise of disorientation and when he fumbles to move his bag aside that had been occupying the space beside him, you belatedly realise he was only asking out of courtesy. but backtracking now and rejecting his offer would be a million times worse and you can only try to hide the flaming heat behind your cheeks as best as you can as you sit down in the seat.
he fiddles with the straps of his bag and you can feel his discomfort reeking off his hands. in an attempt to break the ice, you glance at him, âare you nervous for the game?â
he nods, âdonât think it gets any less nerve-wracking no matter how many games you play.â
âwell this is a pretty big championship. you have every reason to feel nervous,â you hum.
yeosang levels you with a look. âare you trying to make me feel better or worse?â
you do not know him well enough to be able to discern whether he is joking with you or not. opting to clear your throat instead, you point out, âyou have your teammates who you can trust.â
âyeahâŠteammates.â
and you have me, too, as your coach, you want to say.
the hopeful glimpse in the dark of your eyes is enough for yeosang to pick up on your thoughts. he swallows uncomfortably and looks away.
we donât know that yet.
you bite the inside of your cheek, trying once more to extend the conversation after a pregnant pause. âdid you guys have a coach before cho?â either you have a shitty sense of appropriate conversation starters or yeosang wants absolutely nothing to do with you (it is likely both, but one can be optimistic), because his shoulders tense almost immediately.
âwe didâŠjust one,â he starts off carefully. you think that that is going to be the end of it, but then he adds on, âwe donât really talk about him though.â
and there it isâthe end of the conversation. it is his nice way of telling you that there is no more to be said, so you sit the rest of the ride in silence next to yeosang, pretending not to let the sheer awkwardness suffocate you.
when the bus arrives at the gangneung ice arena, you hurry to alight and only then do you feel like you are able to breathe again. you plaster on a smile and notify the boys, âyour first game is in two hours against the panthers. youâve been allocated locker room 3B.â
they make their way into the centre and you trail behind in wait as they find their designated space. warm-ups will be first so they will not be needing their full gear just yet, which means it should not take long for them to change.
inside the locker room, the red devils shrug off their bulky duffle bags and change into their game jerseys, lacing and relacing their skates to ensure the snuggest fits. hongjoong alerts, âboys, time to go out and start warming up,â receiving a chorus of acknowledgement as everyone grabs the rest of the gear that they need.
before jongho places his phone into his assigned locker, he habitually taps on the screen one last time to check for any notifications and finds a single text from his younger brother, jonghyuk. he knows he should not read it, much less right before his first game, but the smaller part inside him that yearns for his familyâs recognition dares to hope for something. dragging the preview down to avoid opening it, jongho reads the text.
are you just going to keep pretending you havenât read our messages?
jongho clenches his jaw and swipes the notification away as if that will also erase it from his mind. tossing his phone into the locker, he shuts it with a harsh swing, resting his forehead against the cool metal as he closes his eyes and breathes out shakily. this gameâthis championshipâjongho has to win; he cannot afford to lose.
âcaptain.â
hongjoong turns around to see jongho striding up towards him, brows furrowed and voice troubled as he questions, âare we really not going to tell coach what our game plan is? shouldnât we work together with her?â
âjongho,â the captain sighs, âwe got lucky with coach cho, but we know better than anyone else that not all coaches are like him.â
from where he has been listening in on the conversation at the doors leading out of the locker room, seonghwaâs shoulders stiffen. there is a moment of silence; the rest of the team have already made their way to the ice rink.
âwhat if we lose?â
it is the way that his voice grows small and timid that hongjoong realises it is not his captain that jongho needs right now. hongjoongâs gaze softens as he searches the youngerâs eyes, âdid your family say something again?â
he receives no answer but it tells him more than enough. âyou trust me?â
jonghoâs almost imperceptible nod does not escape hongjoongâs observations, so he continues to reassure, âweâll win. my boys are the best players, you included, and we already have experience playing in this competition.â he ducks down slightly to meet jonghoâs gaze, âand even if we do lose? we lose because of our own skillsânot because of anybody else.â
his words tug a small smile out of the corner of the youngestâs lips, and hongjoong returns it with a relieved smile. with a nudge, he sends jongho in the direction of the door, where seonghwa pretends to ruffle his hair affectionately knowing that it will be dodged. seonghwa chuckles lightly and watches him walk off, unbeknownst to his captain watching him.
âhey,â hongjoong calls out gently, âi know what youâre thinking, but that wasnât what i meant.â
seonghwa looks back and winces, âi canât help it.â
âand thatâs why i will keep telling you no matter how many times you need to hear it. it is not your faultânever was, and never will be,â hongjoong cocks his head playfully as he raises an eyebrow.
âsame goes to you then, captain,â seonghwa returns the banter, shoulders relaxing and head shaking, ânot your fault either.â
âyouâre right, so letâs get the fuck out there and smash our game, yeah?â hongjoong slings his arm around the other and leads them both out of the locker room to join the rest of the boys.
what he does not say, though, is that seonghwa is wrong. seonghwa may have been the one to reach out to coach yeon, but hongjoong was the one who made the executive decision to accept and trust coach yeon.
he is not going to make the same mistake twice this time, because it is not just about protecting his dreams, his career, or those of his teammatesâit is about protecting the people he loves.
hongjoong will not let them fallâŠnot again.
winter, 2018: regular season
jongho twirls his phone in his hand, intermittently turning the screen on and off. he sits in the corner of the locker room, away from the rest of the boys as they wait for coach yeon to return from checking in and filling out their required paperwork. only several competitions later will they realise that their locker room is small, cramped and dim, but to their fresh, bright-eyed excitement at competing in a professional league for the first time, they hardly have time to critique the assigned space.
the phone comes to a stop. making up his mind, jongho taps on the screen and navigates to the keypad. dialling his motherâs number, he brings the phone up to his ear and waits with bated breath as it is left to ring.
âwhat do you want,â comes her curt response when she finally picks up.
jonghoâs words falter, âoh, nothingâŠi just wanted to tell you that weâre playing our first game today.â
âgame? your little team doesnât even have a coach,â his mother patronises.
shoulders curling in on themselves, jongho hesitantly voices, âi told you last month that we got a coach.â
âi forgot,â she brushes him off, âand it must not be a very important competition then, seeing as it isnât worth remembering.â
âthereâs prize money,â he reveals. maybe if he can bring some of it home for his parents, they will recognise his efforts.
she sceptically probes, âis it national? international?â
ânoâŠregionals.â
âis it ranked at least?â
âitâs just an entry-level competition for rookie teams,â jongho trails off, discouraged and confidence in shambles.
his mother scoffs at his answers, none of which are the ones she wants to hear. âyou have no excuse not to win this competition, then. this is childâs play. just look at jonghyuk. heâs two years younger than you, yet already has his eyes on the olympics. if you lose, i donât want to hear about itâdonât bring shame to our family.â
âokay,â jongho mumbles, but his answer is only heard by the beeping dial of the ended callâŠand the rest of the boys it seems, if not apparent by the sombre hush that has settled over the room and the worried lips that he sees when he looks up.
yeosangâs mouth parts, the youngerâs name on the tip of his tongue, but then coach yeon enters the locker room and calls for their attention. jongho gives them a reassuring smile before setting his phone beside him on the bench and directing his gaze to their coach, grateful for the distraction. it leaves yeosang and the others with no choice but to drop it for now.
coach yeon erases the old scribbles on the roomâs whiteboard and replaces it with rough markings of the hockey rink. he drags the magnets into the different zones, each one representative of a player, as he goes over the final lineup and their respective positions based on the opposing team they have been pooled against.
âstay strong on the offensive and maintain a 2-1-2 formation where possibleâyeosang, i want you up there with hongjoong and put pressure on the other team. if they gain puck possession, both of you fall back to where wooyoung is and maintain 3-2.â
the three forwards nod and coach yeon touches one of the magnets positioned on the playerâs bench. âjongho, youâll come on for your shift during the second period. whoever you replace will come back in later to sub the other wing. yeosang and wooyoung, you should both be playing again during the third period.â
âyes, coach,â jongho acknowledges.
coach yeon continues on to review their game plan and hongjoong steps up to assist with detailing their different strategic plays. to jongho though, their words sound like he is listening from underwater as his mind involuntary drifts off. it is a small saving grace that his parents do not care for his match, because it means that they will not see that he is not part of the starting lineup.
for seven of the people in the locker room, winning the competition is an aspiration, but for one of them it is an expectation. and for the remaining individual, the competition in itself is an opportunity, but for an entirely different reason.
winter, present: regular season
inevitably, you find out. when discrepancies start to occur between training, pre-game meetings and the actual games, it is only a matter of time before you start to notice them.
it starts off with the uncommon plays that are simply a response to the game situationâones that are dire and not often brought up prior to them actually occurring. during their fourth regular game of the season, the red devils are behind by two goals. the last period is almost over when they miraculously gain the power advantage after two of the opposing players are sent to the penalty box in quick succession.
before you realise what is happening, hongjoong gives his team a signal and both yunho and mingi on defence and san in the goal all rush forward to attack with the wings. you can only watch with wide eyes as they risk an empty net in the hopes of scoring two much-needed goals to even the playing field.
wooyoung manages to score one with a quick shot, but with the release of the opponents from the penalty box, their advantage is put to an end and they ultimately finish the match with a loss. you do not dwell too much on their sudden change in tactics despite the lack of communication with you, because you understand that every single game requires a different approach. sometimes, there is no time to strategise, only time to act.
but one occurrence turns into two, and two turns into several. and when, during one of their matches the week prior, jongho and wooyoung swap positions on the left and right sides of the rink as soon as the youngest replaces yeosangâs shift, it becomes quite conclusive that they are deliberately withholding information from you.
the boys are not brainless. it is not a coincidence for you and the team to discuss one game plan in the locker room only for it to completely change the moment they step onto the hockey rink.
you silently watch as the boys prepare for a faceoff in their defensive zone. they are currently playing against the incheon bears and the timing of the penalty puts you all on edge; the score is currently tied four to four and only twelve seconds are left on the clock. you had requested a time-out right as the referee made the call in hopes of stopping the momentum of the opposing team and to tell the boys to play defensively for this faceoff.
âplay it safe. stall for the last twelve seconds and drag the game into overtime,â you had ordered.
the incheon bears have made a shift change with their player number four coming on for the faceoff, their right wing who has low stamina but terrifyingly accurate shots. he is responsible for most of his teamâs goals and several other scoring attempts that san had only just managed to block. you are also almost certain that they will be aggressively body checking your players to make this faceoff count for them. your forwards have to play safelyânot just for the sake of the gameâs score.
at your defensive suggestion, san had nodded in agreement with you, âforwards need to make passes with sure lanesânothing that can risk getting intercepted. go for the reverse setup play if you guys can.â
âwe donât need to take this into overtime,â hongjoong had started to argue, âother than number four, the rest of their offence is weak. as long as we break past him, we have an opportunity to score.â
âcaptainââ
the whistle blows before mingi can give his two cents, the mere thirty seconds for the time-out far too short, and the boys hurry to enter the rink again. hongjoong leans in quickly to say something to them before they disperse into their positions and mingi glances at you, almost guiltily.
you do not have the confidence that your team will listen. san may have seen the advantages in favouring a defensive play, but he is not the one who will decide which direction the puck will go when the referee drops it onto the ice. hongjoong is.
the hand of the referee raises to signal the start of the faceoff and both teamâs centre forwards lower their stance. then the puck hits the ice. hongjoongâs nimble reflexes help him to snap his wrist and twist the puck away from the incheon bearâs player, wooyoung already surging ahead with explosive strides towards the other end of the rink. but just as you fear, the opponentâs left wing thunders at hongjoong with horrifying speed, intention solely to bowl him over onto the iceânot to steal the puck.
âfuck, captain!â you yell, heart leaping up into your throat as it cuts off your breath.
hongjoongâs eyes snap upwards and darken, jaws aching from the force with which he grinds his teeth together despite his mouthguard. he suddenly pivots on the edges of his skates and shifts his weight to only just narrowly miss the body check, then flicks the puck away before another player can knock him down.
he does not need to look before passing to where he knows wooyoung will be, years of synergy allowing their plays to connect seamlessly. except incheon bearâs number four has predicted their exact play, having been watching from the benches and noting your forwardsâ preference for aggressive attacks.
âshit,â yunho curses under his breath, ice shaving under his skates from the accelerating force of his strides towards the puck. he is not going to make it in time. âmingi!â
seonghwa jolts up to his feet from the playerâs bench, chest mid-inhale with apprehension at the captainâs pass. the puck is intercepted within the blink of an eye and with a well-timed punch turn around yunhoâs attempt to regain possession, the rival teamâs number four makes a shot for the goal.
it is too fast for mingiâs stick to blockâarm still stretching out with desperationâand although san drops down to his knees in hopes of barricading the goal with his leg pads, the trajectory of the puck arcs higher than he had predicted.
as the puck soars past san and hits the netting of the goal, the buzzer sounds in tandem with the eruption of cheers around the rink. all around, the incheon bears swarm towards their number four in joyous celebration. mingi leans over to rest his hands on his knees from both exhaustion and defeat, and the other boys stand in similar stances as the outcome of the game registers in their tired minds.
in an attempt to cheer them up despite his own disappointment, seonghwa half-heartedly smiles at his boys as they slowly start to trudge their way off the rink. âwe played well, boys. it was unlucky that our pass got intercepted, but we can do better next time.â
âgood thing it isnât the playoffs yet,â yunho tries to joke, âso weâre still in the competition.â
nobody cracks a smile and wooyoungâs face is dark, hand grabbing the walls in support to favour his left foot whilst lifting his skates over the slight ledge of the bench door. noting his slight limp, san quietly murmurs in worry, âdid you tape your ankle?â
wooyoung shakes his head. âi ran out. forgot to buy some yesterday.â
âmake sure you ice it tonight then, okay?â san gently supports him by the elbow to the benches so they can loosen the laces of their skates and grab their things before heading to the locker room.
you look away to flip through the notebook in your hand instead, trying to calm the shaking of your hands. ice hockey is a contact sport and you cannot protect the players from every single collision, but that last body check that hongjoong had been unprepared for still has acid pooling into your mouth. you scratch the score â4-5â onto a page filled with their scores from this season thus far. a quick calculation tells you that the red devils have just as many losses as they have wins, which in all honesty, is not looking good.
thisâŠconflict needs to be cleared with the teamâwith hongjoong. you cannot let this concealment of tactics and blatant changing of strategies right in your face continue any longer, because at the rate they are going, they may not even make it into the playoffs. and as you make eye contact with san, who has been staring despondently at the puck that still lies in his goal, you know that you must clear the air for the team, too. the last thing you need is for their own teamwork to fall apart because their differing opinions on your coaching starts to drive a wedge between them.
san stills when you break your gaze and glance away to pivot on your heels in the direction of the changerooms. from the way your mouth thins and neck becomes rigid, he is quite certain you are not happyâand rightfully so, san must admit. he stalls time by slipping off his bulky gloves and freeing his hands up to remove his helmet and mouthguard too.
noting that the other boys have grabbed most of their belongings, san heads off first to meet you, knowing that they will follow him soon after. he walks down the corridor easily balancing on his skates and rounds the corner to their locker room. except the sight that greets him has his feet halting and taking a step back behind the doorway.
your hand is deep in one of their bags. san is unsure whose bag it is, but the brief glimpse of the black canvas bag he caught is enough to tell him that it is one of theirs. although he is not making any accusations, he also cannot think of a reason as to why you would be rummaging through their bags.
âwhy are you just standing there?â
jonghoâs voice startles him and he mumbles, ânothing,â before stepping through the door with the rest of his team. you are sitting on a bench in front of an empty locker now and if he did not know better, san would think that he had imagined the last minute. he glances discreetly at the bag you had been poking through and recognises it as wooyoungâs.
gingerly seating himself in front of his own locker, san waits on edge as mingi also grasps the atmosphere and sits too. gradually, the boys read the room with tactful glances and linger on their feet or on the benches. all except for one.
âwhat was that?â you cut through the silence with a directed question at hongjoong.
the captain continues to toss his gloves into his unzipped bag at the bottom of his locker before proceeding to unlace his skates, not once turning to look at you.
âwhat was what?â
you know fully well that he is aware of what you are talking about but you decide to humour him as you elaborate, âthat last faceoff. i clearly told you to play defensively, but you went against it to try for a goal. and let me guess, you told the others to ignore what i said.â
âand so what if i did?â hongjoong challenges. yeosangâs wide eyes dart from side to side and yunho watches on uneasily as his captain finally turns to glare at you. âin that momentâas a player on the rinkâi saw the opportunity and took it. if there is a chance to attack, then my team takes it. we donât run away like cowards.â
the successive jabs at your athletic retirement cause a lick of phantom heat to wrap around your shoulder. your jaw grinds as you hold yourself back from biting the bait. âthen iâm curious as to what opportunity you saw every time you decided to withhold game tactics from me, or every time you changed the strategy the moment you and your team stepped foot onto the rink.â
âmaybe we would respect and listen to your coaching if it actually suited the playing style of our team. heavy defence may have worked for the grey eagles, but i think you need to reevaluate your abilities as a coach because it seems like you are forgetting that we are not them. forcing us to play defensively like your past team is not going to work for shit, coach,â hongjoong mocks.
you scoff to the side, questioning your own ears. it borders on a laugh, because that is his reason? you have been adjusting their playing style not only based on the situation that arises each game, but in general for their own good. earning his respect be damned, you will not stand for this.
you return the same scornful tone, âwell then, captain, considering you just lost the fucking match because you were too arrogant to defend for twelve fucking seconds, i think you should also reevaluate yourself. are you acting in the best interest of your team, or are you acting in the way that best strokes your own ego? and let me remind youâif you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you.
âif you do not have the decency to at least tell me what you have discussed with the boys so that i can adjust the plays accordingly, then i think the shit results of your games so far speak for themselves. teams have a coach for a reason whether you like it or notâŠor maybe i should say, whether you trust them or not,â you snap.
running your stressed fingers through your hair, you tear your eyes away from hongjoongâs defiant eyes. the two youngest avoid your gaze, whereas yunho and yeosang simply stare at you with their jaws slack at a loss for words. the fire within you almost quenches when your eyes skim over san, mingi and even seonghwa, who are fiddling with their jerseys with guilt.
the room suddenly feels too small and too stuffy. âchange. the bus will be waiting outside,â you mumble, then you leave without a further word.
nobody in the room moves in the wake of the argument, not even hongjoong, who continues to bore holes in the doorway that you have just disappeared through. yunhoâs eyes awkwardly dart back and forth between hongjoong and the other boys before they land on the bench you had been sitting on.
the notebook you are always holding is still there, left behind in your haste to leave. he stands up to grab it, turning on his heels to chase after you when the open pages catch his eye. âwoah,â yunho breathes out, double-taking and bringing the notebook closer towards him to read the contents. âthis is insane.â
you have marked down not only their score for every single game they have played this season, but you have also tracked the statistics of who has scored, assisted, or successfully defended a shot. yunho flips back through the pages as the other boys come to crowd around him. there are logs of their major games from the past five years, diagrams of their faceoff plays and formations, analyses of their strengths in games won and similarly, analyses of their weaknesses in games they have lost.
âoh, fuck,â mingi curses when yunho flips to the more recent pages and they see that you have compiled the same details and information, only more concisely, for every single opponent team the red devils have played against this season. there is no way of seeing thisâhours upon hours of hard workâand still questioning your intentions as their coach. âi think we owe coach a huge fuckinâ apology.â
hongjoong immediately furrows his eyebrows with displeasure. âare you taking her side, mingi?â
âcaptain,â mingi deliberately calls. it is at times like this where being the only logical thinker in the team has its merits. it may be harsh, but mingi must draw the line between their professional and personal life. this dispute must stay strictly within the bounds of their career without blurring the lines over into their romantic involvement with one another, otherwise things could get messy real fast.
mingi stares at the captain as he reasons, âthis isnât about taking sides. from a solely rational point of view, i think it may have been better for us to play safe and defend like coach had suggested.â
from beside him, san nods in agreement. mingi continues, âand iâm not just talking about todayâthere were a lot of times when coachâs plays might have worked out better than bulldozing ahead with offence. yeah, weâve won a few games but weâve also lost just as many. how many of those could we have won if we had trusted coach?â
yunho backs him up whilst gesturing vaguely between the both of them and san, âitâs easier for the three of us to see from defence, but their forwards were already close to intercepting our faceoffs quite a few times that game.â
hongjoongâs immediate thought is to defend himself, because he is their captain and their centre forward; the one who leads them into opportunities to score and win. he knows that every single time he chooses an aggressive play, it is at the risk of weaker defence. the odds have never deterred him, though, because he has always been confident in his abilitiesâin his teamâs abilities.
but if, even now with the palpable experience of losing because of his own decision, it still does not deter him from taking risks in a situation where offence may be his downfall, then is he confidentâŠor overconfident?
it is quiet for a moment. hongjoong swallows the urge to justify against their opinionsâagainst your opinionsâinstead looking around at his team. he meets jonghoâs round eyes and he remembers one of the very reasons why he is so committed to leading the red devils to the gold trophy. why, if he is becoming a hurdle instead to their victory, then he needs to change. âwhat does everybody else think? seonghwa?â
âweâve been wary of y/n all this time, but the more games we play and especially afterâŠâ the alternate captain vaguely gestures in the air, â...today, we should really work with her instead of relying on ourselves. weâve seen her notebook, too, and i think thatâs more than enough for us to see that the effort and resolve she places in our team is genuine. we need to acknowledge that and apologise.â
ânot even coach cho went to these lengths, and most definitely not coach yeon,â yeosang shrugs as he offhandedly comments.
spurred on by everybody else, san carefully voices the thought that has been lingering on his mind, âi think itâs time to tell her the truth. we owe her that much.â
the truth. the wounds that not even coach cho knows of.
hongjoongâs distrust in you may have initially been true to his desire to protect his boys from something like that from happening again. but he is now realising that you may have seen right through him. perhaps at some point in time, it became unwillingness to trust you, blinded by his prideful title as the demon king of the ice rink but at the expense of his team under the guise of wanting to safeguard them.
exhaling shakily, voice thick with regret, hongjoong accepts, âiâve let you all down, havenât i?â
âno,â yunho gently rebukes. âletting us down would be refusing to listen to us. we trust you for a reason, hongjoong.â
not just as a captain, but as everything else too.
seonghwa wraps an arm comfortingly around him. with hongjoongâs demonic presence on the ice once he is in the zone, it is easy to forget that he actually has a shorter stature than all of them. âthatâs right, we trust you,â seonghwa affirms. âthe next step is for us to trust our coach as well. weâre a team, but it isnât complete without our coach.â
âand this apology isnât yours alone to bear,â yunho reminds. âlike seonghwa said, weâre a team and we all have fault in our behaviour towards y/n. if iâm honest, i had a shitty attitude and gave her a hard time at the start too,â he admits, wincing at the memory.
yunho is not the only one who grimaces as they reflect on their own actionsâwhether they happened when you were first introduced to the team, during your first training together, or even up until todayâs game. but wooyoung, who has been quiet throughout the entire ordeal, still has a niggling doubt: one that is most personal to him in comparison to the rest of the team.
wooyoung reveals his thoughts, âbut what about her choice to stop playing? i still canât think of a good reason that i can respect her for having retired.â
âthen we ask her,â mingi proposes.
jongho nods, also curious to know whether there is more to your decision than you have let on. âtoday, though? we donât really want to come off as accusatory or anything. it might be good to give her some space today.â
âwhatâs our schedule looking like tomorrow? training?â
everyone looks at seonghwa, the most likely person to know their schedule off by heart. he does, and he scratches his head as he recalls, âno, recovery day. low-intensity cardio in the morning andâŠa team meeting with coach in the afternoon.â
âtomorrow it is, then,â hongjoong concludes. there are hums of agreement and the decision appears to appease wooyoung enough for the boys to start dispersing, heading to their lockers to finally start changing out of their gear.
wooyoung tosses his helmet and gloves onto the bench in front of his locker before sitting with a sharp but discreet inhale. he carefully loosens the laces on his skates, easing the left one off his foot slowly. the relief is immediate and his fingertips gingerly touch the throbbing area around his ankle. it is not too swollen, but he will need to ice it when they get back to their apartment and he will definitely need to buy more tape.
he sheds off the rest of his gear and uniform, leaving them on the bench too to air out while he takes a quick shower. as he roughly towels his wet hair afterwards, he drags his kit bag further out to make it easier to toss everything in.
âhuh?â wooyoung makes a noise of confusion when he unzips the bag, hand immediately reaching in to grab the item that has caught his eye. it is partially covered by his hoodie but he would be able to recognise the packaging anywhere.
âwhatâs wrong?â san asks, glancing over.
the younger brandishes the brand new roll of strapping tape he has found in his bag, the frown etched across his face slowly relaxing into amused exasperation as he reasons, âi must not have seen this in my bag all along.â
san is about to snort and make fun of his inattentiveness, but a sudden thought stuns the smile off his face. it was not that wooyoung had managed to miss the spare roll in his bag. it wasâ
ây/n,â he quietly exhales with realisation.
at wooyoungâs questioning what?, san looks at him with upturned eyebrows. âthe tapeâcoach was the one who put it in your bag, right before we all walked in here.â
âthisâŠshe gave it to me?â wooyoungâs face drops, remorse evident in the thickness of his voice. âbut why?â
san gently squeezes his shoulder with a smile, simply answering, âbecause sheâs our coach.â he turns to zip up his own kit bag and leaves wooyoung to digest the revelation. the boy is quiet for the rest of the time, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he stares ahead and absentmindedly follows the rest of his team out of the locker room.
when they exit the ice arena, they do not expect to see you. and yet, there you stand beside their bus waiting stonily with your jacket zipped up and hands in your pockets. you mentally count them off without acknowledging them as they start to store their kit bags under the bus and board. yeosang gets on first, taking a seat near the front of the bus as usual. he watches from the window as you wait for the rest of the boys.
you follow jongho up the stairs, the last to load his kit bag, and tell the driver that you are all good to leave. yeosang sits a little straighter as he tucks his small backpack further under the seat in front of him with his feet, having left the seat beside him empty. but before he can open his mouth with an offer of a seat, you have already sat right behind the driver. yeosang leans back into the cushions of his seat, unfamiliar with the sense of disappointment he feels.
the ride back from the competition venueâmuch less after a lost gameâis always quiet, players both physically and mentally exhausted from the strain. this time, though, it is strikingly silent, but you appreciate itâneed it.
you stare out of the window as the trees flicker past like a repetitive motion film. most of their leaves have already fallen off, littering the ground in a blur of tragic glory. and with the beginning of winter, the trees will soon become completely bare, bringing about the period of time when there is nothing but bleak emptiness.
winter, 2019: regular season
â2019 ice hockey rookie stars tournament: team standingsâ
hongjoong stares at the printed piece of paper with seonghwa at his side, where the results of all the teamâs round-robin games have been taped up onto the walls of the stadium. hongjoong does not even bother reading from the top, eyes going straight down to the bottom of the page instead.
the red devils are dead last, having lost every single one of their matches. even the korean penguins, who had nil wins either, had managed to beat them earlier today, ranking them at the lowest of all teams. it is fucking humiliating and hongjoong hates that the sport that had brought him and his boys all together, that they had immeasurable love for, is now one that fills them with shame and indignity.
nobody else but the two captains of the team have decided to look at the rankings. they had all already known towards the end of the regular season that they would not stand a chance at making it into the playoffs. and yet, hongjoong and seonghwa need to see the results for themselves. it is almost masochistic, forcing themselves to look at the fruitless results of their hard work in their first competition that has so devastatingly crushed their morality.
seonghwa picks at his cuticles fretfully and wonders whether he made the wrong decision to give up his education in pursuit of becoming an athlete. he thinks of his parents, who had encouraged him with supportive smiles and offers of financial support the moment he brought up the ideaâwas it all in vain?
âare you two done looking?â
both of the boys turn at the question to find a captain with his team waiting to look at the standings.
âyeah, sorry,â hongjoong mumbles before stepping aside to yield his spot. the players swarm forwards and he is pushed further back away from the list like a physical representation of his distance from the playoffs.
somebody from the other team yells, âwe made it! weâre in the playoffs!â and they simultaneously break out into cries and cheers as they celebrate together.
hongjoong watches on bitterly, wishing with every cell in his body that that was him and his boys. how is he going to walk back into the locker room as their captain when all of his boys have eyes that are rimmed red and cheeks that are blotchy from despairâwhen there are captains like that who have successfully led their team to at least a chance at winning the competition.
the feeling of a pinky slowly hooking around his own draws hongjoong out of his pain. âletâs go back,â seonghwa murmurs, tugging him away from the still-celebrating team. together, both of them start to walk back through the hallways to their locker room.Â
âarenât we down here?â seonghwa questions, standing at the t-intersection that hongjoong has absentmindedly walked straight past.
âoh, yeah. sorry,â hongjoong apologises and begins to backtrack. his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a voice. âwait, doesnât that sound like coach?â
before seonghwa can respond, hongjoong has turned around yet again towards the voice in search of their coach. seonghwa hurries to catch up and that is when he hears it too.
âhave you transferred the money?â
âyes, i wired you the remaining amount the moment we won,â a deeper, unrecognisable voice reassures.
hongjoongâs footsteps falter, brows knitting together and head cocking to one side. he gestures for seonghwa to slow down, pressing a finger on his other hand to his lips. both of them creep forward silently.
the unfamiliar voice probes, âyour teamâyouâre sure they donât suspect anything?â
hongjoong and seonghwa do not need to see him to confirm their suspicions when they hear the unmistakable laughter of coach yeon. through the gravelly sound, he mocks, âthey have no fucking clue even though theyâve lost every single one of their games. theyâre dumber than fucking sheep. their captain tells me everything about their plays and strategies and they never question it when i change things around.â
seonghwa clutches the back of hongjoongâs jersey with a death grip, knowing that without it, his captain will punch coach yeonâs face into a bloody mess. but as much as their coach deserves it, it is not worth the disciplinary action that will inevitably follow, likely suspension, becauseâ
âplus, even if they do somehow find out, what can they do about it? bullshit, thatâs what. they have no evidence and theyâre not going to risk blowing this up and ruining their own careers instead,â coach yeon boasts smugly. âlosing like that as a rookie group in their first year out is completely normal. no one will believe them, and no coach is going to want their team after that because of their âshitty sportsmanshipâ or out of fear of being accused in the same way if they lose again.â
at coach yeonâs words, seonghwa scrambles to put them into context with his dread-riddled mind. the echoing pounding in his ears tells him that he has just heard something that was never meant to be known. he does not even notice that the voices start to grow distant as the two men begin to walk off, but hongjoong does.
the trembling grip that is still on the back of his jersey grounds hongjoong enough not to throw everything away and sprint up to coach yeon with vile words and heated fists, but he also cannot do nothing. hongjoong peers around the corner before seonghwa can counteract his movement, desperate to identify who exactly coach yeon is talking to. except the revelation has him reeling, hands white from how hard his fingers dig into his palmâa stark contrast to the deep scarlet of flames that leap forth from his murderous eyes.
because the person who is walking beside coach yeon is the coach of the korean penguins. hongjoong and his boys have not been losing because of their skills they believed to be fucking shitâcoach yeon has been fucking ensuring they lose.
for money.
winter, present: regular season
you stand on the balcony of your apartment. the sliding glass doors are shut behind you to keep the heat trapped inside, but for now you welcome the refreshing cold of the winter chill as you simply observe.
below on the streets, the miniature specks of people and cars mill around as if you are watching a game simulation. it is strangely humbling to think that each and every one of the people you see are living their own lives, completely distinct to yours with different yet very real problems of their own, but in the grand scheme of the cosmos, you are all insignificant.
you wonder what concern the people holding their coffee are plagued with right now; what problem the people crossing the street are facing. you wonder, if you were to tell them of your worries and they were to tell you of theirs, would you curse or thank the heavens?
the phone in your hand buzzes. you look to see if it is from coach cho and manage a small smile of relief when the notification is indeed from him.
apologies y/n, i was busy earlier. i can call now if you still need me?
you send an affirmative reply, then slide to answer the call that comes through. âhi coach, sorry to bother you.â
âno, youâre alright. is everything okay?â
you hesitate before revealing, â...i messed things up with the boys.â
âthe team?â his voice goes gentle, fatherly nature extending to you too. âwhat happened?â
âhongjoong and i had an argument today after the game because he keeps changing the teamâs plays without letting me know, or even after weâve agreed on something else. it was only meant to be a talk, but then things escalated and we ended up fighting. i justâi donât know what you saw in me, coach, because i donât think iâm fit for the boys,â you ramble. âtheyâre not listening to me, they probably donât even like me, and weâre going terribly with the season.â
you take a breath as you timidly admit, âi donât think weâre going to make it into the playoffs and itâs going to be my fault.â
âhey,â coach cho grounds you, âmaking the playoffs would be great, yes, but the reality is that most teams donât. and youâre still very young yourselfâthis is your, whatâŠfifth year of coaching?â
throat too sticky to formulate a response, you simply hum.
âwhen i first started coaching, i was older than you and it was still a steep learning curve during my first ten years. i believed that coaches deserved the utmost respect and that my opinion was final. theyâre my players, so of course i should be the one laying down the laws,â he chuckles. âbut growing up was realising that whilst the respect is still there, it needs to be mutual. coaching a team is not a hierarchy of âi command, you listenâ, but a show of leadership with the captain at the front of the teamânot on top of them.â
his words strike a chord within you. coaching the boys was frustrating because they were not listening to you. but it should never have been a case of who listens to whoâit should always have been a reciprocated relationship of everyone listening to one other.
as if he can physically feel the guilt that is starting to settle in the pit of your stomach, coach cho draws your attention to something else. âremember what i told you when we met the team for the first time? why i chose you specifically?â
âbecause of our similar playing styles?â you recall.
âexactly,â he confirms, âyou know best the strategies and plays that work, and what their strengths and weaknesses are, because they were also your own. you need to be a coach to their playing style, not the other way aroundâthey shouldnât be a player to your coaching style.â
you cannot help but worry, âwhat if they get injured?â
ây/n, this is where your similarities can either be your biggest flaw or your greatest asset as a coach. no matter how safely they play, there will always be a risk of injury. that is just how the sport works and you know that the best. you can teach them to assess the risk and pull back if they really need to, but ultimately, there is no way of eliminating the risk completely.â coach cho pauses, then asks, âif you could meet your younger self, would you make yourself change your playing style?â
would you? as you imagine what you would tell your past self if you had the chance to, you find that you do not have an answer. perhaps for the sake of a prolonged career, you would. but then would it be your passion and skills that are playing the game, or your fears and worries?
if you cannot come to a decision even for yourself, then it is completely unfair for you to restrain the boys within the cages of what you view as safety for their own good. harnessing the defensive skills may have been functional for the grey eagles, but like hongjoong said, you are coaching the red devils now and it is not working for them. you must come to terms that you cannot protect the boys at every opportunityâconsciously or unconsciouslyâyou need to be a coach to them.
coach cho, aware that you have come to a conclusion, asks you one final question, âhave you told the boys why you retired?â
âno, not yet,â you shake your head. you already have an idea of what he is going to say to you next.
âi think itâs time for you to tell them,â he advises. âremember, y/n, sometimes you need to be vulnerable with them first before you can make things right.â
after coach cho ends the call, you do not make a move to go back inside the apartment. you stay standing on your balcony, arms folded as you lean against the handrail listening to the faint rumble of traffic and hustle of busy activity. life goes on, and so will yours; you just have to make it count.
the trees on the streets may be stripped bare and lonely throughout winter, but eventually you learn to appreciate its nothingness. it is a necessity in order to start afresh.
mingi stares at the blinking cursor that sits in the open search bar. it has been empty for the last twenty minutes since he started up his laptop, wondering whether it would be an invasion of privacy for him to look you up on the internet.
he makes up his mind. he knows that he was the one to tell wooyoung only mere hours ago that they would ask you about your decision to retire tomorrow at the meeting, but mingi supposes it would not hurt to simply see what sort of athlete you were like before.
typing your full name into the search engine, mingi hits âenterâ and waits for the results to appear. he combs through the first several links quickly. they all have the same information; ice hockey databases and websites that detail your age, nationality, physical stats and position, but the sections that usually list your team and agency are now blank.
mingi is surprised to learn you were also a centre forward. he scrolls down to your game logs and match statistics that span from 2014 to 2019. you have won an impressive number of championships, most notably the under-18 and under-21 womenâs ice hockey league. they are both international competitions and mingi is not sure how your reputation has flown under all of their radars.
frowning, he goes back to the search engine and clicks on the next page in an attempt to find more information. it is not until he clicks yet again to the next page that he finds a low-reputed news article from almost eight years ago where you are the main subject.
ây/n l/n, youngest player of âblack catsâ, wins ice hockey championship at the age of sixteenâ the headline reads. there is not much to the article, but it outlines your admirable achievement at your young age as a rising prodigy in the ice hockey scene. mingi agrees, since he knows that you also go on to win another international competition a few years after that. just as he is about to close the tab, there is a recommended link that catches his eye.
he hovers his cursor over it. the hyperlinked headline does not explicitly say your name, but the phrasing really only alludes to one athlete considering it is a recommended link on your article. mingi does not know whether he wants to click on it, though, because he is afraid of confirming it is you.
and if it isâŠthen the others will also need to see this too.
âhongjoong, guys, come look at this,â mingi calls out, balancing his laptop on his forearm as he walks out into the open living room. the others look up from where they are sitting or emerge from out of their rooms at his summon.
âwhatâs this?â hongjoong reaches out to receive the laptop and places it on the table. his eyes skim the screen, trying to make sense of what mingi is showing them.
mingi points to the hyperlink he had been mulling over. âi think we need to look at this.â
solemnity washes over the boys as their curious gazes dull and darken, realisation of what exactly they are reading dawning upon them. all at once, their hearts clench in solidarity. hongjoong clicks on the link. the only sound that permeates the silence is the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall. nobody talks. nobody moves.
ice hockey star announces retirement following shoulder injury june 18, 2019 star player y/n l/n, centre forward of the âblack catsâ, has announced her retirement from professional ice hockey today. her decision follows lingering issues after suffering from a rotator cuff tear during the grand finals of this yearâs under-21 womenâs ice hockey league. l/n has been under the ice hockey spotlight ever since her win in the under-18âs league as the youngest player on her team. she is well-known for her offensive threat to the opponents, bold playing style and unparalleled skill breaking through the lines of defence. during the grand finals in april, l/n was body checked from the side by âpolar bearsââ kim hyejin. although full-body checking is illegal in womenâs hockey, it is not uncommon during the heat of competitions. l/n suffered a severe right rotator cuff tear and is reported to have received open surgery last month. l/n did not provide further details about her recovery, however stated that she plans to focus on her physical rehabilitation in the meantime.
the glare of the screen stares back at the boys as they finally understand exactly why you had retired and why you had come back as a coachâyou were unable to fully step away from the sport you so loved with your entire life.
âcoach wasnât telling us to play defensively at all the crucial times just for the sake of the game strategyâŠâ seonghwa grasps.
â...but because she didnât want the same thing to happen to us,â hongjoong finishes. one of your heated remarks during your argument with him suddenly resounds in his mind: and let me remind youâif you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you. you had been reliving your own demons every single time hongjoong and his boys were playing aggressively on the ice. âfuck,â he mutters.
mingi leans down a little. âwait, see if there are any other articles about this.â
fingers dancing across the keyboard, hongjoong opens up a new tab. another quick search of your name with the keywords âinjuryâ and âretirementâ yields no further articles. mingi is certain you would have had more media coverage considering you had suffered an injury at the rising peak of your prodigious career, so he finds it strange that there is close to no information about this.
âit almost looks as if somebody had the articles purged from the internet,â mingi observes.
jongho nods with furrowed brows, âmaybe y/n? but why would she go to the length to remove them?â
âi mean, wooyoung didnât exactly go around flaunting off his injury to the media. maybe she didnât want the attention anymore,â yeosang guesses.
yunho nudges wooyoung playfully as he comments, âno offence to you, but none of us are exactly famous enough for the media to take interest in our injuries.â
âi think the real question is why coach didnât tell us that her injury was the reason why she stopped playing,â seonghwa wonders, âit was never really a choice like she made it out to be.â
none of them know the answer. hongjoong slowly closes the laptop, exhaling deeply, âweâve got a lot of things to clear up tomorrowâŠand a lot of apologising. iâm going to sleep early. you all should too.â
with that, he gets out of his seat and disappears into his bedroom. hongjoongâs mind is heavy and crowded and he knows he is going to be awake for a while.
nobody sleeps well that night. especially wooyoung.
spring, 2023: playoffs
âwhat do you mean i canât compete in the playoffs?â
âyou have a fractured ankle, wooyoung. the playoffs are honestly the least of your concerns and if you keep straining yourself like this, it wonât just be the playoffs that you canât compete inâitâll be the rest of your life,â coach cho admonishes.
âbut this is our first proper championship, coach,â wooyoung begs, âyou have to let me play.â
coach cho hates that he has to say no and if he could swap ankles with his player, he would do so in a heartbeat. âthis isnât a choice. you physically cannot play. what are you going to do out there on the ice? crawl?â
âfuck, coach, you donât understand. it was so hard for us to get to this point. this means everything to me, fuck, please,â wooyoung pleads between heaving breaths.
âiâm sorry, wooyoung,â coach cho apologises, leaving no further room for argument as the other boys divert their gazes to the floor.
hongjoong gently squeezes wooyoungâs shoulder. âthe doctor said that your cast can come off in about eight weeks and if itâs looking good, you can gradually join in on any light training when itâs off-season.â
wooyoung does not care because in eight weekâs time the playoffs will already be over. he knows he is being unreasonable and that there is no chance he will be able to set foot in an ice rink within the next two months. but his heart and mind are operating separately and the only thing his heart can see is the opportunity of playing in the championships slipping right out of his grasp.
he is already angry at himself for getting injured in the first place but it is not enough to quell wooyoungâs raging inferno. so he does the only thing he can think of in the momentâhe spits out his anger with a venomous, âi hate you all.â
it hurts the boys more to see wooyoung hurting and coach cho speaks up on their behalf, âi would rather you hate us now than for you to hate yourself in the future because you traded decades of your career for this one playoff.â
wooyoung jerks his head away defiantly, but they know he is only trying to hide his tears. unable to watch any longer, san moves in closer and pulls the younger into his arms.
âfuck off, san. i donât need you.â
san swallows the hurt in his chest because he knows there is no truth behind wooyoungâs words. âi know you donât,â he offers, âbut i need you. so just let me stay.â
wooyoungâs body sags as all of the fight slips out of him in the form of shuddering sobs. san embraces him tightly, as if he has picked up all the pieces of the other and only a hug can make him whole again.
âiâm sorry,â wooyoung chokes out.
san shakes his head with reassuring hushes, âdonât be. you focus on recovering and weâll take it from here.â
like that, wooyoungâs anger is quenched and the team goes on to compete in the playoffs without him. but in the absence of anger comes other emotions, jealousy and insecurity the ugliest of them all. wooyoung despises the bitter taste in his mouth as he sits on the playerâs bench outside of the rink each game, only able to helplessly watch his team advance further in the playoffs without him.
and as much as wooyoung wants them to win, he also does not want them to win, because if they can win the championships without him playing as their left wing, then do they really need him at all? he never gets to find out the answer though. they lose in the quarter finals.
wooyoung does not tell anybody about the ill relief he feelsâŠand he vows to take that secret with him to the grave.
winter, present: regular season
the moment you walk into kqâs meeting room, a rehearsed apology for the team on the tip of your tongue, you realise that something is off. not necessarily wrong, per se; just off.
all the boys are sitting around the table as usual, though the overhead projector that is routinely already set up with video footage of their recent games has been put on standby mode. but the thing that unconsciously makes your hackles rise is the expression they all nurse on their faces, strangely familiar yet foreign at the same time. it is familiar in the sense that people have looked at you this way in the past, but it is foreign in the sense that it has never come from the boys before.
âhi, coach,â hongjoong clears his throat awkwardly, opting to look at the wall behind you instead of your eyes as if even he knows this is the first time he has ever addressed you as such. âwe had aâŠtalk last night and thought we should probably clear up a few things before we discuss the actual games.â
although you share the same sentiment as they do, hongjoongâs words put you on guard. gingerly, you lower yourself into an empty seat across from him. âi also have a couple of things to say, but you guys start,â you cue.
hongjoong glances at seonghwa beside him, who in turn gives him a miniscule shrug. neither of them know how to bring it up with you as they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. thankfully, mingi steps in, not one to beat around the bush.
âwhy didnât you tell us about your injury?â he asks directly.
with mingiâs question, you are suddenly able to place their expression. the boys look at you warily as if you are a wounded animal they are afraid will run away. you loathed the expression years ago when it was from your coach, your teammates and your familyâthe constant treading on eggshells around you with pitying eyesâand you still loathe it just as much as you do now.
your prickles emerge and your instinctive reaction is to deny it. you have kept your injury a secret up until now for a reason and the unexpected confrontation has all of your sirens blaring to keep it a secret. but then you remember coach choâs adviceâyou remember the apology you had mulled over all nightâand you force your prickles to retract.
you take a breath. coach cho would not have told them about your injury, so there is only one way the boys could have found out about it. âyou read the articles, didnât you?â
mingi at least has the decency to look sheepish as he admits, âoneâŠbut there werenât any others.â
âi thought as much,â you mumble to yourself, smiling tightly. you choose not to think about how they came across the article. âi wanted them all removed and my agency managed to pull enough connections to sweep the articles under the rug, but i should have known that in this day and age it would be impossible to get rid of any media completely.â
the question remains as to why you have chosen to keep this hidden and alsoâ
âwhy did you want them removed, though?â hongjoong furrows his brows.
you have faced countless demons in the last six years. the injury itself, the abrupt end to your golden days, and the forced reconciliation with the fact that you will never be able to play again. and yet, the demon that continues to haunt you to this day is the media spotlight that chases after you as if you are a circus animal.
you are unable to look at any of them in the eye as you finally bare yourself open to the boys. âthe articles felt belittling and shamefulâthey still do. they made me feel less as an athlete then and they make me feel less as a coach now. i worked my heart and soul to get to where i was with the skills that i had, but you donât understand just how crippling it is for all of that to be overshadowed by an injury. it was no longer a celebration of my achievements, simply because nobody cared anymore. it just became a fucking broken record of, âhow does it feel to have fallen at the peak of your career?â
âthen when i became a coach, it didnât matter how well my team performed or how hard they worked to win the championships. the question became, âhow does it feel to coach after being forced to retire because of your injury?â no matter how hard i tried, i just could not escape the hellhole of my injury.â
guilt settles in the pit of mingiâs stomach as it also does for the others. they may not have written the article, but by consuming it and searching for more, they had unknowingly joined the faceless masses of those who had hurt you.
you dig your thumbs into the flesh of your thighs to stop your voice from shaking as you continue, âthe media will not care for the achievements that myself or my players accomplish when there is something even betterâa sob story. but i do not need that kind of pity. not from athletes, not from other coaches, and most definitely not from strangers silently pitying my life from behind their newspaper or screen when i did not ask for any of it. i made people forget and i kept this all hidden because my career, be it as a coach or a former athlete, does not deserve to be reduced to that kind of shit.â
the raw honesty behind your words strikes the boys silent. what they thought they had started to understand about you, they are now realising was barely the tip of the iceberg. seonghwa wonders for just how long you have left this wound bleeding and untreated. he calls out for you sadly, âcoach, you shouldâve told us.â
when you look up, you are surprised to find wetness brimming his eyes. you feel the hot rush of emotions build up behind your own eyes but from anger, because why is he upset? what reason does he have to cry when you are the one who has suffered all this time?
your voice is biting when you respond, âand have you look down on me like everybody else? i just said, i do not need your pityââ
âitâs not pity,â a voice interrupts firmly. of all people, you least expected it to come from wooyoung. his tone stays unyielding as he holds your gaze. âweâre athletes too, y/n.â
the way he includes you in the collectiveâas an athleteâhas your glare softening immediately, replaced by the dangerous quivering of your bottom lip while he elaborates, albeit voice gentler now, âwe are hurting for youâwith you. it is not pity; it is standing by your side in hopes that we can help you up if you ever fall again.â
because it is okay to fall, and you will fall; wooyoung knows that the best.
you tilt your head upwards as you desperately blink back the tears that suddenly threaten to spill. the swell of emotions that had churned in your chest had not been anger but fatigue, you realise. wooyoungâs words give you sudden clarity that you are tiredâof suffering alone and in silence. you want help.
âiâm tired of hurting,â you confess quietly.
âthen let us share the hurt with you.â
the dam breaks and your tears fall freely down your cheeks. it starts off with a nod so miniscule that the boys think they have imagined it, but then slowly and surely, your head moves up and down with more conviction. âokay,â you whisper.
you had always thought that you had come to terms with your injury and the end of your career, but perhaps you are still mourning your lossâŠand perhaps that is okay. like looking into a time-warped mirror, wooyoung sees the fight slip out of your body with a sob as you apologise, âiâm sorry.â
san wants to cross the room and wrap his arms around you if it can take away even just a fraction of your hurt. but he knows that he cannot cross the boundaries of professionalism despite the intimate nature of the conversation right now, especially when you and the team are only just starting to patch things up. so instead, he opts to rub his thumb over the knuckles of wooyoungâs hand from under the table, which has slipped into his, hoping that one day he will be able to do the same for you.
âwe understand,â hongjoong answers on their behalf, âyou were doing what you needed to do in order to protect yourself.â
and if you do not realise that he says those words for himself and his team to hear too, then you will by the end of the conversation as you walk away with a newfound understanding of them.
âno, not just for that,â you shake your head, roughly swiping at your tears with the back of your hand. âit ended up negatively influencing the way i coached you guys, even if it was subconscious. i let my own trauma dictate how i wanted you to play: defensively all the time whether it was needed or not. hongjoong, you were right about me not coaching your team as your team.â
you try your damned hardest to keep your voice steady so that you can look at them properly to apologise, âiâm sorry i made it so hard to trust me as your coach.â
âokay, let me stop you right there,â yunho smiles gently, sliding a tissue box in your direction. âwe were pricks too, so half the apology is ours.â
âdonât call her a prick,â seonghwa whispers. his horrified expression relaxes when you break out into a wet chuckle.
hongjoong is glad that you are able to find something to laugh about even with your cheeks still damp and blotchy, and he finds his mouth curling into a bittersweet smile. you have been honest and vulnerable with them and now it is their turn.
âwe have something to tell you about our past coach,â he starts, drawing your gaze to him. ânot coach choâour very first coach. weâre not trying to justify that what we did as a result was okay, butâŠâ
âbut hopefully i can understand,â you finish when hongjoong hesitates. he nods and you mirror his action with a reassuring smile to encourage him to talk.
but irregardless of what they tell you, you already know that you want to understand them, because understanding is the first step to forgiving, and you want that too.
so with intermittent comments from the other boys, hongjoong reveals to you the hidden wounds they have been nursing. and as they tell you about coach yeon, how their trust in him had been misplaced, how he had betrayed it for money at the expense of their championship, and how they had then let that become mistrust in you and your reason for retiring, wooyoung finds himself quiet so that he can steal glances at you.
he can see it now. the untameable beast within you of passion for ice hockey that has been forcibly chained down to the ground with the weight of the earth. the devastating torment that must incessantly surge through you in the most debilitating waves, tenfold any anguish he felt when he was unable to compete in the playoffs. the blemished canvas of dark and ghastly emotions that you do not let see the light of day, yet continue to coexist in hidden silence.
it is there and then that wooyoung realises you and him may be more similar than he thoughtâthat you may actually understand him better than any of his seven boys.
you stop the drill.
yeosang gracefully turns in an arc whilst keeping the puck close to his stick as hongjoong and seonghwa dig their skates into the ice to brake before their momentum takes out the younger.
âletâs have jongho try using the perimeter of the rink instead of passing to yeosang this time. start the faceoff again,â you instruct.
the chorus of responses that you receive are zealous, even slightly teasing as the boys lower their voices with a, âyes, coach!â and give you small salutes with their gloved hands. you cannot help but snort and shake your head, waving at them to retake their positions.
practice is short today, since your team has a game tomorrow. the first half an hour consisted of running through offensive formations for power plays and you are now focusing on defensive penalty kills. your two captains and wooyoung are playing as the mock opponents, preparing your remaining wings and defenseman for a situation where they are down a player.
hongjoong seems to mull over a thought as he looks at the formation of his boys. âyou mentioned the team weâre playing against has a tendency to position their forwards higher up, didnât you?â he asks and when you nod, he suggests, âwhat do you think about trying the diamond formation instead? might help close some of their shooting lanes.â
with the captainâs input, you reposition yeosang further up to form the tip of the diamond, and yunho too to cover the right point whilst jongho covers the left. mingi moves in a little closer to the goal to cover the bottom of the diamond and you make sure to point out the importance of his position.
âif the opportunity arises, we can transition into a counterattack instead with 3-1. but weâll need to make sure we still cover the goal in case they turn it back over againâmingi, this will probably be you. support whoever has the puck from behind, but make sure you donât go too far forward.â
mingi answers with an affirmative and yeosang passes the puck to hongjoong for him to commence the penalty kill. at your whistle, the rink explodes into action. wooyoung and seonghwa immediately split down the perimeters to open up shooting lanes for their captain, who passes the puck off to wooyoung the moment he has cleared half the rink. with a brief adjustment of the puckâs angle, he attempts a cross-ice pass to where seonghwa is free on the other side.
with astonishing speed, jongho intercepts the puck and yells, â3-1!â he continues to barrel forward with the momentum of his explosive acceleration towards the goal as yeosang anticipates a pass and yunho joins the counterattack rush to his right. the three of your players charge forwards with adrenaline as mingi covers them from behind. jongho chips the puck over hongjoongâs stick, which is immediately taken up by yeosang. without a goaltender, he finishes it off with an easy shot into the net.
the tempo and execution of the rush surprises not just you, but the boys themselves too, who are tapping their sticks together with elated excitement at the success of the play. it may only be a simulated practice drill, but you still share in the same pride and contentment that hongjoongâs face glows at you with.
he cocks his head to the side with a paired smile and you return the same nonverbal acknowledgement. corners of your lips still lifted up, you gather the boys, âletâs have a drink break.â
as the boys make their way over to the benches, removing their gloves and helmets, you eye the water bottles and make sure you have enoughâfive in the cooler and three on the bench beside it. san bounds up to you after grabbing one from the cooler, bragging, âcoach! did you see the way jongho intercepted that puck?â
from beside him, wooyoung reenacts the moment with wild flails of his limbs and airy whooshes from his mouth, jongho watching with bashful giggles. you indulge in their animated recount and listen intently. âhe was amazingly fast,â you agree.
yeosang passes an opened bottle to wooyoung before untwisting the lid to his own, commenting, âthe ankle weights on top of all the training must be working.â
the boys are not currently wearing any, but you had slowly implemented the use of vests, ankle or wrist weights during specific drills. now that they have taken them off and are playing without the burden of the additional mass, you are all starting to see the gains of their hard work.
you smirk with satisfaction, âof course. if my players are going to bulldoze across the ice, may as well make them fast enough to avoid all the opponents.â
âdonât encourage her,â wooyoung elbows yeosang scandalously. âsheâs going to make us wear heavier weights next practice.â
âyou donât get to complain if you donât even wear the weights,â you quip.
he knows his injury means that he cannot wear the weights in case it places stress on his ankle, so he curses at you with no real heat just for the sake of cursing, âfuck you.â
you wink, âlove you too.â
wooyoung shuts his mouth and scrunches the bridge of his nose with faux displeasure, and jongho laughs at his inability to faze you. you glance down and open your notebook to mention, âon that note, though, how do we feel about going up a few hundred grams next week?â
âiâm fine with that,â yeosang says at the same time jongho confirms, âsounds good.â most of the other boys also nod that they are fine with increasing their weights, save for seonghwa who notifies you that he is still adjusting so he will keep his as it is for now.
you jot down ticks and crosses next to their names corresponding to their answers whilst suggesting, âyunho and mingi, you can both probably try half a kilogram since your body masses are higher.â
said boys peer over your shoulder to see what their new weights would be, then yunho makes a noise of intriguement. âcoach, did you write these?â
you look to where his finger is pointing toâsticky notes upon sticky notes of unorganised observations and reminders to yourself. starting to feel self-conscious, you deny, â...no,â only for yunho to swipe the notebook from out of your grasp. âhey!â
he holds it up and open above him, voice gleeful as he reads one out, ââjongho, wooyoung and yeosang prefer water at room temperature when trainingâtake bottles out of cooler!ââ
âaw, coach,â wooyoung coos, âdid you deliberately leave three bottles in room temperature for us on the bench?â
feeling your ears heat up from being exposed, you swipe at the notebook. your skates give you added height, but so do yunhoâs skates, so your attempts to jump for it are futile.
ââboys want to eat abura soba after their winâ,â he continues to read, pausing to let out a dramatic gasp, âare you going to treat us, coach?â his question is met with enthusiasm.
when another wild swipe sends a sharp sting down your shoulder from the movement, reminding you of the pain that had flared up a few days ago, you decide to change tactics. you grab the back and front of his jersey with your hands, completely ready to commit to scaling him like a literal tree. but then a different set of hands easily takes the notebook out of yunhoâs and of course it would be mingi. you insult, âgive it back, you tall buffoon!â
mingi is hardly fazed as you switch targets to him, your fingertips nowhere near reaching the notebook as he snickers and reads, ââtrial jongho as starting forwardâwait.â he lowers his hands with sobriety and you are finally able to snatch the notebook back, shutting it before they can read any more of your sticky notes. it is not like there is anything they cannot know, but it is sort of embarrassing for them to see how much attention you pay to them.
âyou want jongho on the starting lineup?â mingi confirms that he has not read it wrong, eyes as wide as all the other boys as they look at you.
jongho is almost certain that you must have meant somebody else, or something else, because there is no way that he would be given the opportunity to start for the teamânot when they have yeosang and wooyoung as their wings, and the choice of hongjoong or seonghwa as their centres. he is used to being the player who momentarily relieves others of their shift on the ice, or as his parents so like to remind him, option b.
âwhy do you all look so surprised?â you frown. beckoning at jongho with your chin, you ask, âyouâve been practising hard to make your right hand just as good as your left hand, havenât you? so letâs take advantage of your versatility and unpredictability on ice and throw the opponents off. what do you think?â
jonghoâs mouth opens and shuts, struggling to formulate an answer through his wide beam other than, âiâof course, if youâd let meâif everyone else is happy.â
the pleased smile on hongjoongâs face is enough to make his cheeks sore and he wraps his arm around the youngestâs shoulders. he praises, âlook at you, our wild card and our hidden ace,â as seonghwa declares, âi know heâll do us so proud.â
both yeosang and wooyoung simultaneously offer their positions in the starting lineup and the rest of the boys watch on with fond expressions. they are grateful that you have recognised the talents and hard work of their youngest. although you are not aware, this opportunity holds significance not just in regards to his career.
you conclude, âweâve been on a good streak with our games. letâs ride the momentum and show the other teams what jongho is capable ofâwhat weâre all capable of.â
âyes, coach!â they shout, the loud echo of their voices reverberating and filling the rink with buzzing energy for the remainder of the training session.
spirits still high by the time you call it a wrap, you let them change as you grab your own belongings. there is a team meeting in the afternoon so you and the boys will be going back to kq to eat at the cafeteria and use the booked room. you pause when you see wooyoung loitering by your bag. he still has not changed out of his practice clothes.
âiâm not letting you on the bus if youâre planning on staying in those clothes,â you joke.
âiâm going to change!â he scowls indignantly, then avoids eye contact as he thrusts something out in your direction. he mumbles, âhad some spares. didnât want them. just dumping them with you so you can stash them or use them or whatever, i donât care.â
you grab the small bag, brows creased with confusion, but wooyoung dashes away to change before you can ask what it is. you peer inside and to your pleasant surprise, there are two packs of pain relief patches. your shoulder protests at the lack of attention you have given it in the last few days. the pain is chronic and never really goes away, but it has been bothering you more than usual recently, so it is all in good timing that you now have some patches.
you make a mental note to stick one on when you get to the company and grab your bag after ensuring your notebook is stored inside. as you head towards the change rooms to wait for the boys, you spot a piece of paper on the floor. it looks like rubbish that you must have missed on your way in earlier so you pick it up to throw away. but when your fingertips touch the familiar sheen of the wax-like paper, you realise wooyoung must have dropped it.
it is confirmed when you unfold it to read the text and see that it is from yesterday evening, at the pharmacy that is just across the street from the company; in your hands you hold wooyoungâs receipt for two packs of pain relief patches.
spring marks the start of the playoffs. in synchronisation with the burst of life that blooms with the season, your boys, too, flourish in the league.
the unpredictability of your teamâs strategies that entail a mix of both yours and hongjoongâs prowess helps to secure wins over the remainder of the regular season. despite the unsteady start to the season, it allows your team to scrape into the round of sixteen near the bottom of the standings.
the red devils are seeded against the team that is third in the rankings, and then against the sixth-standing team in the quarterfinals. in upsets that knock out two of the most anticipated teams in the league, your boys advance into the semifinals, their reputation as the demons of the ice rink that had laid low now rapidly spreading.
where none of the other competitors had paid you and your players any mind before, barely even noticing your presence, the opponents now glance and watch your team walk past with an air of confidence through the arena. their tense jaws and hard gazes size up your athletesâformidable rivals who have suddenly barrelled up the ranks from out of nowhere and now pose perhaps the biggest threat as a team that has somehow slipped under their radars.
you know; your team may be small in numbers. but with yunho and mingi flanking the sides of the boys, and even with hongjoongâs charismatic aura alone leading the front, which extends around him like a dark cloud of terror and envelops the rest of the group too, your team is a pack of predators at the tip of the apex.
other players part to make a path for your boys, whose heads are held high and eyes are set only on their captain and you, their coach, as you all walk to your assigned changeroom. the nerves have long dissipated because the ice rink is your territory and the other teams are your prey.
the moment you shut the door behind the last of them into the room though, the icy stare in wooyoungâs eyes melt and he exclaims, âholy shit, did you see the way everybody was looking at us? we must have looked so fucking hot, i wish i could ask for my own signature.â
from their glowing faces alone, you can tell that they are all basking in the feeling of finally being recognised and reckoned with. yunho bats his eyelids and pinches his voice higher into a falsetto, âoh wooyoung! youâre so handsome and cool, could i please have your signature?â
mingi imitates him and pounces on wooyoung, begging for a photo together as he clings onto his elbow. it sets off the rest of the boys to crowd around like mock fans with faux exhilaration. you snort at their antics, leaving wooyoung to sign imaginary sheets of paper with his imaginary pen in favour of ensuring all of their backup equipment and gear is correctly located outside or in the storage area.
you allow the boys adequate time to change into their full gear for their warm-up prior to the actual semifinal game before you walk back into the locker room. your ears perk up when you catch the end of sanâs question, âthatâs good for us, isnât it?â
âwhat is?â you ask out of curiosity, flipping open the provided cooler and adding several sports drinks into the ice.
âi overheard someone on the white tigers team say that their head coach happened to fall sick, so they have their assistant coach today,â jongho mentions.
the surge of brazen smiles and reassured glints in their eyes at the reveal of information makes you falter to a degree. you lightly chastise, âdonât let that get to your heads and start being cockyâplay as you usually do and do not underestimate them just because their head coach is off.â
you pull your notebook out of your bag, the familiar cover and weight of the book providing you with a sense of security as you remind the boys, âthe white tigers have a very similar playing style as us. we may have worked hard on our defensive strategies, but with similar strengths and weaknesses overall, it wonât hurt for us to still be cautious.â
âyes, coach,â they chorus.
hongjoong nods, âletâs go warm up, then finalise our starting lineup for the game.â
your teamâs allocated time on the rink passes by quickly and it is followed by the last adjustments to the discussed strategies and game plan, thorough checks of their gear, and the remaining boys who are still wearing their practice jerseys change out of the blue into their red game uniform. in full gear, there your boys stand, presence intimidating and demoniac. the boys do not live up to their team name; their team name lives up to them.
they stride through the hallway for their semifinal game against the white tigers. right at the end before it leads to the ice rink, yunho yells, âpep talk, captain!â
hongjoong groans, rolling his eyes, but places the blade of his stick onto the rubber flooring nonetheless. the rest of the boys huddle around, their sticks meeting in the centre of the circle and standing close together so that their helmets and shoulders knock against one another. you are also swept into the circle with yeosang and san by your sides.
âboysâŠand girl,â hongjoong snickers to himself before recollecting his very inspirational train of thought, âweâve fought hard to make it this farâthis is the first time weâve made it into the semis, so letâs keep running until the very end, yeah?â
to the teamâs increasingly loud cheers, hongjoong yells, âletâs fuck it up out there!â
their sticks hit the ground in unison and despite the muted sound of the cushioned flooring, their shouts of fighting resolve and unwavering determination drown out everything else. together, you emerge from the hallway and your starting players take their positions on the ice, ready to fuck it up.
only, it happens literally.
the moment the puck hits the ice and the white tigersâ centre forward, byun, wrestles it away with his blade, hongjoong immediately knows it is going to be one of those games. the ones where his competitive grit is fueling his mind ablaze but his body is leaden-footed as if he is wading through quicksand; where his body is just unable to keep up and move the way he wants it to. it is one of those days where his condition is just inexplicably off and there is nothing he can do about it except hope that his years of training and sheer aptitude for the sport will be enough.
âfuck,â you curse under your breath at hongjoongâs slip as jongho and yeosang rush to fall back and support those in defence. âhe wasnât like that during the warm-ups.â
byun is not only agile and swift, but is almost an identical reflection of hongjoongâs own bold and assertive offence. the centre forward powers through with evasive turns around yunhoâs attempt to body check him, unafraid and confident. passing the blue line into your teamâs defensive zone, byun flicks the puck at the goal.
the point shot is an unexceptional attempt to score, nothing that sanâs reflexive goaltending cannot take care of. he extends his left foot and blocks the low shot with his leg pad, where the puck then slides in yunhoâs direction. you did not doubt for a moment that san would not be able to save the shot, but it is still a close call that is far too early in the game to be a good sign.
your teamâs greatest strength is their unspoken synergy and seamless unity, but it is also their greatest weakness. when one player stumbles, particularly when it is their captainâthe very roots of the teamâtheir bond runs so deeply that it throws their teamwork out of harmony and ultimately impacts the entire team.
with sanâs save, yunho regains possession and handles the puck around the back of their net to shake off the pressure that the white tigersâ forwards are placing on him, as well as to buy his own team some time to reassemble in their formation.
you know that this is not going to work for long; you have to change the momentum of the game, and fast. âseonghwa, get ready,â you alert. âyouâre going on for hongjoong.â
the alternate captain stands, alarmed at the unexpected line change so early into the game. he grips his stick with white knuckles and watches his team as he waits for your cue. yunho hits the puck against the boards where yeosang successfully receives the rebound.
âbreakout!â yeosang yells and rushes forward with the chasing skates of the opponents nipping at his heels. jongho clears the centre line into the offensive zone at the same time hongjoong screens and blocks the view of the white tigersâ goaltender, setting up for an opportunity to score.
when the opponentâs left defence and wing advance on yeosang rapidly, he fakes a deceptive pass towards the boards before twisting the blade of his stick and flicking the puck between their skates instead in hongjoongâs direction. but like an eagle honing in on a small rodent, byun swoops in to snatch the puck, flipping the possession again.
the tides turn and all the athletes on the rink race towards your teamâs net, a cutthroat competition between triumph and desperation to chase the puck. byun passes to the player on his left as they both dash closer, the left forward immediately returning the puck the moment he receives it to break past mingiâs defence.
you are able to see the white tigersâ right wing following closely behind ready for a drop pass, but in your teamâs frenzied minds, they are unable to read the play. yunho approaches byun, who is expecting the defence and leaves the puck behind whilst skating on, knowing that it will be received by his trailing teammate. with the momentary confusion that is enough to disrupt both yunho and sanâs gaze on the puck, the opponentâs right wing winds his stick back just enough to build power without sacrificing speed, then slaps the puck into the corner of the goalâ
âand scores. within the first three minutes of the game.
âseonghwa,â you call out again with urgency as the whistle blows. you turn to look at him, âyouâre up. you have to break the flow of the team. not just the white tigers, but ours tooâthe boys are panicking and you need to help anchor them.â
he nods, steadying his hand on the board in preparation to hop over it, and you yell out for the captain, âchange!â
hongjoong sees the gesture of your hand pointing at the bench, and although his chest tightens with frustration at himself, he speeds towards the edge of the rink to change. once the captain is close enough, seonghwa pushes his skate off the benches to launch himself over the top of the boards onto the ice then propels himself forward to take the centre faceoff.
the captain sits down heavily on the bench, defeat already broiling off of his slumped body in smothering swells. you really cannot afford to take your eyes off the game; it waits for nobody and the whistle has already blown, the rink erupting into commotion. but whilst you need to watch the game unfold, you need hongjoong just as much, and his team needs him.
you turn him slightly to face you so that he can see your face of resolution. âyou are the captain, so be the captainâfor the teamâŠand for yourself,â you invigorate, voice raised so that he can hear you over the noise of the stadium.Â
you give his shoulder a hard squeeze, certain he will not be able to even feel it from under the pads of his uniform. regardless, he understands your intentions and nods grimly, the fog in his eyes clearing. wooyoung taps the back of his helmet in a show of encouragement and hongjoong returns the gesture with appreciation.Â
a particularly loud thump draws the attention of all three of you back to the game. from the grimace on yeosangâs face and his hand steadying himself on the boards, it is obvious he has just been body checked into the wall. seonghwa pursues the puck with graceful yet powerful speed before he digs both skates perpendicular into the ice to suddenly change direction. pushing off, he accelerates back towards the white tigersâ defensive zone when mingi manages to disrupt the opponentâs stickhandling enough for yunho to sweep the puck and skate it up the perimeter of the rink away from their net.
wooyoung also goes on for yeosang but as the left wing, so jongho switches position to play as the right forward. he skates past the benches when an opportunity arises and he hands off his stick whilst grabbing his right-handed stick from you with practised ease.
with the line change of forwards and with seonghwa on as your centre, your team stabilises to an extent. the red devils are no longer being pushed back but they are also unable to push forward. the game is at a stalemate, although the tides remain in favour of the white tigers with both their positional and psychological advantage of the first goal.
you can see the pressure weighing down on your boys; passes that yunho and mingi would be capable of executing blindfolded are miscalculated; predictable manoeuvres still mislead wooyoung in the wrong direction; seonghwa and jongho fail to notice the opportunities for clear passing and shooting lanes; and the openings appear far too wide and innumerable for san to cover the goal from. the relentless offensive pressure that the white tigers places on your team, strikingly similar to how the boys played when you first started coaching them, does not give any breathing room either.
so that is how the first period comes to an endâlosing zero to one with none of your players performing at their best condition. their steps are heavy and burdened as they walk back to the locker room for the intermission, helmets removed the moment they come off the ice to reveal hardened expressions. in the privacy of your assigned room, most of the boys adjust the pads in their gear and yunho peels off his shin guards to let them air out.
you pass around their iced bottles and as exhausted as they are, they make sure to voice their gratitude. san grabs wooyoungâs bottle for him, since the younger is bent over loosening the laces of his left skate. âhere,â san murmurs, twisting open the cap and passing it to wooyoung once he straightens his back.
similarly, seonghwa hands over an opened bottle to yeosang before taking a swig of his own. âyouâre okay?â he checks, the particularly rough body check that yeosang had copped earlier in the game still at the forefront of his mind.
yeosang gives the alternate captain a reassuring smile, âiâm okay.â
appeased by the answer, seonghwa turns to look at hongjoong, who is re-taping the blade of his stick. âwhat about you?â seonghwa softly asks, âyouâre feeling okay?â
hongjoong glances up briefly at the back of your figure. you are busy shifting the red magnets around on the whiteboard and erasing the markings you had made prior to the start of the semifinals. when you turn around to gather their attention, you accidentally make eye contact with him and break out into a small smile.
âyeah,â hongjoong replies, âiâm feeling okay.â
âalright, listen up boys, that was just the first period. weâre not even halfway into this game and weâve started to even up the playing field now that weâve found our footing,â you encourage. âwe just have to make sure we keep our heads cool and read their plays instead of simply reacting to their movements.â
you look at each of them as you direct, âtheir centre forward, byun, has been on for almost all of first period, so thereâs probably going to be a shift change, if not a complete line change of forwards. they have the leniency to swap out their top players since theyâre in the lead, which means if we want to break their momentum, we need to break it then.â
shifting yourself slightly out of the way, the boys are able to see the new arrangement of positions you have marked out on the whiteboard. âweâre starting the second period by sharpening our offence in the 2-2-1 formation,â you explain. you beckon your head at the captain, âhongjoong, youâre back on. you and wooyoung are to position yourselves up high between the neutral and offensive zonesâtry to screen their goaltender when our boys have possession. yunho, i want you to move up to our blue line with jongho and open up as many passing lanes as you two can. mingi will stay in defence and help cover the goal with san in case the white tigers makes a counterattack.
âuse this opportunity to make as many scoring chances as you can. if there isnât a clear shot but thereâs a chance it can be continued on by another one of us, then go for it anywayâany sort of pressure we can put on their team is better than none.â
your forwards nod with understanding, so you continue to the most important point, âbut the moment byun and the wingsâkim and song, i think they areâcome back on, weâre reversing the formation.â you reposition half of the magnets into a 1-2-2 formation. âonly hongjoong will stay up high; wooyoung will fall back and join jongho in the neutral zone; put pressure on their forwards from there. yunho and mingi, youâll play left and right defence as usual.â
san listens intently when you start moving the black magnets that represent the opposing players and call out to him directly. you warn, âsan, be careful of their drop passes. kim and song have been skating forward but leaving the puck behind for byun to score multiple times throughout the first period. they have you primed to predict it now, so theyâre probably going to change their tactic and pass directly in front of the goal instead.â
âyes, coach,â san acknowledges.
a glance at the screen on the wall of the locker room tells you that there are only a few minutes left of the intermission. âgear up and get ready to go back on,â you instruct the boys.
they make final adjustments to their pads and yunho tapes his shin guards back into place under his socks. you make sure they all have their helmets and sticks when they start to file out of the locker room once they are ready and you grab wooyoungâs gloves for him while he ties the laces of his skates again.
âthanks,â he reaches out for them as he stands up. except he stumbles slightly when he puts weight on his left ankle and your hand instinctively grabs his to steady him.
your eyes grow wide with concern. you know that wooyoung is the type to keep quiet about his pain, even if you ask, âdoes your ankle hurt?â
âno, my legs just fell asleep on me from sitting,â he reassures, conscious of your hand that still holds his. he smiles through his lie and hopes that you are unable to pick up on it. the buzzer sounds before you can, though, warning you both that there is only one minute remaining until the game resumes.
hurriedly you tell him, âlet me know if you need to come off.â
somebody yells out your names, forcing you both to rush off to join the rest of the team in the hallway. wooyoung knows that he should admit to you right there and then that his ankle does hurt, but he will notâhe cannotâŠbecause he owes it to his team.
they do not know and they will never know, but there is not a day that goes past where wooyoung does not feel guilty for having desired for their loss last year. he has to play and win this championship for his team because only then can he start to forgive himself. but until he wins, he deserves to suffer.
those in the lineup rapidly glide across the ice to take their positions, wooyoung included. a short buzzer sounds, the puck is dropped, and the second period starts. immediately you can see that your boys have the advantage. the white tigers had not expected you to take such an aggressive approach of offence considering that you are losing.
and sure enough, just as you had predicted, their coach has changed their entire line of forwards. the players are still undeniably skilled, but they visibly struggle to match the pace at which hongjoong and wooyoung are now leading your team to attack.
the rink is under the boysâ control; the neutral zone has become a stronghold with the resistance of both jongho and yunhoâs combined strength and mingiâs reinforcement from behind. wooyoung weaves through the players with polished agility as he creates passing opportunities around the offensive zone, whilst hongjoong makes his own path with imposing might, his devilish wings spread. and even if the white tigers somehow manage to gain possession of the puck and break past your defence, san looks impossibly larger than the goal itself, leaving no openings for their forwards to score.
it is well into the second period when the perfect play sets itself up. with mingi blocking any possible rebounds off the boards, yunhoâs attempt to body check the white tigersâ right wing forces the player to pass the puck across the ice. before their centre forward is able to receive it, jongho has already intercepted and is thundering ahead with his stick controlling the puck.
âhigh!â he shouts, ploughing through the neutral zone as wooyoung and hongjoong immediately respond to his call and skate up towards the goal.
jongho deliberately looks at his captain but flicks the puck with a forehand pass in the other direction, too fast for the defenders to react to. wooyoung easily receives the anticipated pass, thighs burning and his left ankle stinging as he rushes towards the goal from the left with powerful acceleration. the white tigersâ goaltender immediately lowers his stance and raises his arms in preparation to block his shot.
in the corner of his eye, wooyoung sees hongjoong matching his lightning pace on his right, the captainâs eyes narrowed with concentration and body weight tilted forward as he hurtles past the defenders. wooyoung pretends to wind up his stick for a slap shot into the net, only to twist the angle of his arms at the last second to send the puck skittering across the ice directly parallel to the goal. the goaltender drops down to his knees, having anticipated a scoring attempt, except the puck is now nearing hongjoong.
hongjoong sees it clearlyâthe trajectory that the puck is taking and the perfect point where it needs to meet his stick. without breaking its momentum, his arms contract to swing his stick and the blade collides with the puck with forceful precision, sending it hurtling through the air. the goaltender desperately scrabbles back onto his skates to defend the other side of the goal, but it is too late.
the puck flies past the posts and hits the netting.
the horn blares and echoing cheers erupt throughout the stadium as the lights flick on to shine across the net and your forward players. hongjoong yells with fierce triumph, stick raised into the air as wooyoung excitedly collides into him. the duo disappear amongst the bodies of your boys as they swarm around them feverish exuberance.
âthatâs our fucking captainââ ââwooâs assist was insane!â
hongjoong cannot even tell who is who as he is jostled around in overjoyed laughter and beaming smiles, numerous hands reaching out to tap his and wooyoungâs helmets and shoulders. from outside the rink, you, seonghwa and yeosang have long stopped sitting on the benches, bodies too strung tight with hopeful tension to stay seated, so you are immediately swept up into a hug as the three of you celebrate the goal with identical exhilaration.
the game is still far from over but the morale has just skyrocketed through the roof as if the red devils have scored the winning goal. combined with the teamâs fans electrifying the atmosphere of the stadium, it definitely feels like it, and you are starting to see hope that the ones advancing to the finals after today will be your boys.
âline change!â you faintly hear, so you still to watch all three of the white tigersâ forwards skate towards the boards. byun, kim and song jump onto the rink, back on offence in the wake of your goal.
hongjoong makes eye contact with you when you search for him amongst the team huddle and in unison, you both nod, pride and determination unspoken in your gazesâthe real game is about to start now. the boys start to disperse and take up their positions around the marked circle for the centre faceoff, and hongjoong and byun meet head-to-head once again in the middle of the rink.
the white tigersâ centre forward smirks condescendingly, âcute goal.â
hongjoongâs face thunders over but he will not let himself resort to dirty sportsmanship. he bites his tongue and lowers his stance, focusing his attention on the game instead.
âready,â the referee signals, then the puck is released.
byun manages to steal it and sends it backwards to his defensemen to open up more passing lanes, but as discussed, your boys mutually move into the 1-2-2 formation to fortify against their offensive plays. despite the pressure of the white tigersâ top forwards back in play, your team is riding on the momentum of your goal; although you had been treading to keep your heads above the water during the first period, there is now an air of confidence that permeates the ambience of the rink in favour of your boys.Â
an angled pass from their defence rebounds off the boards and kim receives it high in the neutral zone. he attempts an immediate pass across the ice to song, except the safety net of your playerâs defensive formation allows mingi to thrust out with his stick to intercept the pass. he signals, âbreakout!â before deflecting it to wooyoung.
the turnover of possession immediately triggers a switch in defence to offence as wooyoung handles the puck back the other way. his wrists twist the stick with measured coordination, controlling the blade and puck as an extension of his own hands while approaching the offensive zone. wooyoung sees the white tigersâ defensemen racing towards him so he abruptly pivots towards the left to drag the black disc around their extended sticks.
suddenly, a sharp pain engulfs his ankle that has his legs crumbling as he staggers off balance. wooyoung manages to stay upright, using his stick to steady himself, but the momentary stumble is more than enough of an opening for byun to steal possession from behind him.
the rival centre forward swerves around jongho then stays close to the perimeter to avoid mingiâs resistant defence. behind mingi, san splays his legs out as he prepares to block the left side of the goal, but byun continues blazing on and wraps around the back of the net. san follows his movement and swiftly shifts over to the right instead while byun cradles the puck with his blade to lift it into the air the moment he approaches.
yunho cannot risk a penalty by raising his own stick to block its trajectory, so he shifts his body in hopes of deflecting the shot before it reaches san. but byunâs wrists snap and tuck the airborne puck at a sharp angle right past the red goalpostâŠand the horn blows to mark the scoring of a goal.
your jaw plummets at the same time that your heart does. not even your lungs work, your body frozen stock-still. once more, the white tigers are back in the lead only mere minutes after the score had been painstakingly tied by your team.
âfuck!â wooyoung curses and slams his gloved fist against the ice, having dropped to his knees in enraged denial.
seonghwa looks on with despondence from beside you as hongjoong drags wooyoung back up to his feet. the captainâs jaws are clenched in frustration but only because of the score itselfânever because of his boys. when mingi and yunho try to comfort san with firm squeezes and uttered reassurances, he can only return a tight smile, all three of their breaths heavy and irregular from exertion and dismay.
for the boys to have climbed so arduously and persistently to even the scores, only to be knocked off and their momentum obliterated so mercilessly soon, it is even more demoralising than the white tigersâ first goal. after all, the higher the climb, the harder the fall.
through the deep ache in your heart, you mutedly say to yeosang, âgo on for wooyoung, and tell jongho to change sticks and play as left wing.â
âyes, coach,â he replies, voice delicate. yeosang waits as you gesture for wooyoung to come off before he hops over the boards and skates in jonghoâs direction.
âwoo,â you murmur as your left wing makes his way back to the benches, but he avoids your gaze and keeps his head down. you bite your lips and decide not to push it for now. instead, you press an opened bottle into his gloved hand.
wooyoung is thankful that the bottle is half empty, because his hand unconsciously clenches around it with quivering shame and he would have spilled the water were it full. he makes no move to bring the bottle up to his lips; he doubts the water would go down his constricted throat anyway. the penetrative guilt of his tears hurts immeasurably more than the piercing throb of his ankle because he may have just cost his team the winâŠagain.
even when the buzzer signals the end of the second period, wooyoung dares not to look up. the score is one to two and it is his fault. the intermission passes by in a haze of dissociation, his body robotically moving on autopilot into the locker room and back to the ice rink. wooyoung does not even know whether there are line changes to the positions or whether the game strategy has been altered.
but it does not matter because it does not concern himâas if any coach would put him on after his grave mistake. what wooyoung fails to notice though is the glances of worry in his direction, and they do not come solely from his boys.
the stakes run at their highest in the third and final period. tension suffocates the entire stadium, invisible hands that snake around your throats with a hangmanâs loose and make you break out into cold sweats. all the players on the ice rink put everything that they have on the line because by the end of the next twenty minutes, only one team will be advancing to the finals.
from the moment the puck is dropped into play and the timer resumes, the rink is a torrential battlefield of contesting skates and grappling sticks. dramatic passes and unforeseen interceptions lead to rapid turnovers that force both teams to hastily switch back and forth between offence and defence.
but everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumnâŠand there is no victory without defeat. for every scoring attempt that the red devils make, the white tigers make three, steadily and gradually pushing your boys back in the final stretch of the game. and while most of your forwardsâ goals are blocked in the nick of time, most of theirs are not.
as a last resort in the face of the crisis, you calculate the risks then add seonghwa onto the field. âyunho, change!â you yell, pulling him off defence.
âbehind you,â byun alerts song as seonghwa powers across the ice right into the cutthroat action, before cursing when the white tigers nearly lose possession of the puck.
your two captains unrelentingly pursue the black disc at the forefront of your team, their complementary synergy and unity a whirlwind of prowess to be reckoned with as they try not to let the burden of scoring weigh them down. despite the overwhelming pressure as the teamâs last line of defence, even more so now that you have sacrificed stability to capitalise on having two centre forwards, sanâs cat-like eyes do not cloud over, only intensely scanning the field and the opponentâs plays.
you glance at the clock. there are only two minutes left and even the combined efforts of your forwards is not working. you never thought that you would ever have to do this as a coach, but now you are afraid there is no choice. âyunho,â you urge.
his head turns to you and you see the ashen pallor of your own face reflected on his as the very probable outcome of the game dawns across your minds. you make your decision. âyouâre going back on. for san.â
yunhoâs eyes widen. âfor san? i canât play as goaltenderââ
âno,â you shake your head, âweâre playing without a goaltender.â
sixty seconds.
save for wooyoung, all of your defenders, wings and centre forwards make a last-minute spurt to attack, not letting their bodies recover for even a split second as they strain their burning legs and gasping lungs.
thirty seconds.
they desperately break past the physical boundaries of their own stamina into their last reserves of pure grit and will, draining every last drop that their mental resilience has to offer.
ten seconds.
they do not give up. they try again and again to score. but against all of your prayers, all of your tears and sweat and against all of your hopes, the gap does not close. the final buzzer blares throughout the entire stadium, marking the red devilâs loss.
two to six.
your players stand motionless, ghosts of denial and despair amongst the crazed jumps and bounds of celebration as the white tigers flock across the rink towards one another. hongjoong tilts his head upwards to stop the rush of tears from falling down his face, both yunho and seonghwa mirrors of his pain as sweat and tears drip down in salty trails. san grasps the edge of the board in front of him, his head hung low and shoulders quaking from how hard he tries to stifle his sobs so that wooyoung does not hear him.
not one of your boys are able to accept the results of the match. not even you can bring yourself to utter a single word of consolation, be it for yourself or for them. and as you watch the wretched image of your heartbroken boys, choking back tears of your own that you are unaware still manage to escape the corners of your eyes, the only sounds in your ears their stricken cries, you are reminded that the path of an athlete and coach is nothing like its portrayal in movies and stories; where hard work triumphs and leads to sure success.
the harsh reality is that there is no dramatic comeback. there is no underdog victory. there is no miracle and there is no final to advance to. you and your boys lose by triple the amount of your own goals and just like that, the journey has come to an end at the semifinals.
it is an anticlimactic defeat, the gap so far that your team could not even see the light at the end of the tunnel. and somehowâŠthat feels far worse than losing by just a marginal difference.
the locker room is mostly quiet, the silence punctuated only by the closing of zippers and rustling of canvas as the boys who have finished showering and changing pack the rest of their gear for the final time. there are no more intermittent sniffles, leaving behind a miserable hush of emptiness instead. even the dying flicker of the light in the far corner of the ceiling thrums with more energy than the boys combined.
you sit on one of the benches and absentmindedly thumb through your notebook. seonghwa sits to your right, his kit bag already long organised and tidied to preoccupy his mind. the warmth from the close proximity of your thighs and elbows is a gracious comfort to the both of you. it no longer makes your backs straighten with uptightness, conscious of the boundaries between coach and athleteânot after your hearts and bodies melded together in hugs of solace after the final buzzer of the semifinals and melted away those lines.
seonghwa places his hand soothingly on your knee and murmurs, âstop looking at that. weâll think about it later all together.â
none of the words or diagrams had been registering in your head, but you nod and close your notebook anyway. he probably does not want to see it either. you rest your head back against the wall behind you with a small exhale, blankly watching your team instead until your eyes travel around the room.Â
you count, then count again, before calling out, âcaptain, is wooyoung still showering?â
hongjoong cranes his neck around at the same time that everybody else does as well. âdonât think so,â he frowns, âiâm pretty sure he was one of the first ones out.â
wooyoungâs kit bag is still unpacked in his locker, so he is definitely not already waiting for the bus outside. before his absence can raise any alarmsâthe last thing the boys need on their plate right nowâyou stand and announce, âiâll go find him. he probably just lost track of time.â
âdo you need me to come with you?â yeosang rises to his feet.
you shake your head and reassure, âkeep packing your bag.â then you turn to make your way out of the locker room when somebody calls out for you.
âcoach, wait.â
itâs san, who skitters in front of you to press something into your hands. âgive this to him when you see him?â
the item crinkles and a glance downwards reveals that it is an instant ice pack. you smile softly, stuffing it into the pocket of your jacket and hoping that nobody notices the ice pack that is already in there. âof course,â you gently touch his forearm. âiâll be back.â
this time you make it out to the corridor but you do not get further than four steps before another voice stops you.
âcoach!â
when you turn around, hongjoong emerges from the doorway. he slows down as he catches up to stand in front of you. âiâŠâ his voice falters. âiâm sorry.â
iâm sorry i didnât realise wooyoung was gone. iâm sorry i didnât do my job as captainâŠand iâm sorry for losing.Â
âno,â you shake your head. âdonât be.â because you tried your bestâŠand you did not give up. beckoning in the direction of the locker room, you tell him, âtake care of the boys, okay? iâll be back with wooyoung.â
the rigidity in hongjoongâs shoulders dissipates. âthank youâŠy/n.â
you smile, âanytime, hongjoong.â you wait for him to walk back inside before you finally turn to find wooyoung.
the arena is massive but apart from the locker roomâwhich you already know wooyoung is not inâthere are limited places that offer privacy from the multitude of people who mill around, be it other athletes, staff or spectators. you know from personal experience, so you head to the one place that is usually guaranteed to be somewhat out of the public eye.
âoh, fuck me,â wooyoung startles when you sit yourself down heavily on the same step as him, his curse echoing around the both of you. âhow the fuck did you know i would be here?â
you snort, bumping his shoulder with yours. âi hate to burst your bubble, but this isnât exactly an original experience. iâm pretty sure every athlete has hidden here to cry at one point in their career.â
the slight spark of light that had ignited within wooyoung at your appearance suddenly flickers out, reminded of why exactly he is hiding in the emergency stairwell in the first place. shame tears his eyes away from you, unable to meet your gaze any longer.
âi want to be left alone,â he murmurs.
although you respect his request, that is the opposite of what he needs. left to his own thoughts and devices, you know that wooyoung will spiral dangerously in guilt and self-reproach, even if the red devilâs loss is not his faultâis not anybodyâs fault.
the two of you sit in silence, wooyoung intermittently swiping at a lone tear that threatens to drip off his chin, and you mulling over the words that you hold close to your heart. eventually, you break the quietude with a soft chuckle.
âthe first game i ever played i was actually on left defence. our team was losing by two goals and i suddenly had the puck. i still remember seeing an opening in the goal and feeling the surge of confidence that i did when i hit the puckâŠbut you know what?â
wooyoung does not answer, does not look up from where he is picking at his cuticles, but you can feel his curiosity so you continue, âit was an own goal. i scored into my own teamâs net and it wasnât until i scored another goal before i finally realised which way i was meant to go. obviously, my team wasnât very happy with me, but then i ended up winning the game for them anyway and thatâs how i started playing as centre forward.
âthere was also a time during internationals where i argued against the refâs call and got myself put into the penalty box. it cost our team a goalâthe tiebreaker, too. i learnt my lesson and never did that again. and then there was the first couple of years i started to coached. i thought i had enough experience as a player to be a perfect coach. it wasnât until one of my teams told me to pull my head out of my ass that i realised i was anything but.â
that gets a small snicker from out of him. you deliberate, âiâd like to think that we make the best team now, though.â
he scowls disgruntledly, âweâre your only team.â
âand my favourite team, too,â you laugh softly, gauging his expression. âmy point is, wooyoung, we all make mistakes. but the reason why we make them in the first place is because we love playing. we do what our heart wants to in the moment and we play for ourselves because otherwise, there would be nothing left of us without ice hockey. what matters is that we stand up again and learn from the experience.â
wooyoung feels the weight of your words settling heavily in his chest because they are only half true to him. his passion and love for the sport indeed burns eternally as a blazing inferno inside of him, but his persistence to play today was due to ulterior motives. to acknowledge that aloud is a different story, though.
your voice takes on a lighter tone, âalthough i guess in this case, you should be sitting down with that ankle of yours. you know you should not be gambling with your injuries.â
he finally looks at you; a former athlete who did not even have the luxury to gamble your injury. it suddenly scares him to imagine just an ounce of the conflicting anguish that must course through you at his continuous decisions to endanger his own careerâthe anguish that you have made sure to never show, lest it affect them.
âdo you ever feel angry?â wooyoung abruptly asks, voice laced with hesitation.
it is your turn to look away. you know that the question is not directed at himself but your entire career. with a bittersweet chuckle, you allow yourself to admit, âevery day. i still get angry and i still get upset. i wake up in the morning wondering why it had to be me and i go to bed at night wondering why i didnât deserve a second chance.
âbut iâm okay; it gets easier to be okay. coaching means that i still get to go on the ice, i still get to experience the adrenaline of games and i still get to play through you guys. and most of allâŠi still have a team. i donât know if i will ever stop feeling angry, but itâs better than it used to be.â
at your admission, wooyoung is reminded of how you are possibly the only one who would be able to truly understand him. he musters his courage and confesses, âi wanted us to lose last yearâŠand we did end up losing.â
it catches you off guard, the direction of the conversation not what you had expected, but you neutralise your expression and tone so as to not make him feel defensive. âhow come?â
he swallows. âmy ankleâi fractured it last year just before we made it into the playoffs, so i wasnât able to compete. i had been so angry at first; angry at myself for getting injured, angry at my coach for not letting me play, angry at my team because they could play. then when it became clear that i wasnât going to be able to compete regardless of how angry i was, i became jealous, insecure andâŠafraid. jongho and i share the same position, and i mean, look at him nowâheâs able to play both left and right wing. if they had won the playoffs without me, then would the team really need me?
âthey did end up losing, just like i had wanted them to, but that made me feel so much worseâmade me realise just how terrible i am of a person. the guilt eats me alive every single day and i tell myself that i will make it up to them this time, that i will risk everything to win for themâŠâ wooyoung scoffs pathetically at himself, âonly for me to fuck things up because of my fucking ankle again.â
you get it. the slow gnawing of yourself from the endless feelings that you âshould not haveâ until you become no more than an empty husk. ever since your own injury, you have spent nights on end trying to reconcile with your emotions in your own confusing and formidable journey, but for the first time ever, you are grateful that you didâbecause you can keep wooyoung company on his.Â
you carefully voice, âi think it was okay for you to have felt the way that you did. theyâre your feelings and nobody can invalidate them nor your experience. what i came to realise was that all of those âuglyâ feelings do not make us ugly for having themâthey simply make us human. it is only a problem when those feelings end up hurting other people, but i think the person you hurt the mostâŠwas yourself, wooyoung.â
at your words, he looks at you with wide eyes, a fresh swell of wetness gathering in them. wooyoung is kind and loving to everybody, yet has never once thought about deserving that kindness and love for himself. you smile gently, trying to hide the slight quiver in your own lips as your heart clenches with a desire to be loved in his stead.
âyou know, woo, iâve watched basically all of your past games including the quarterfinals from last year. but if i were to compare it to todayâs game, it was as if two completely different teams were playing. your team was alive todayâa truly united team where every member is the driving force behind each otherâs passion for the game. i am pretty confident when i say that a huge part of it was because you were playing with themâbecause the team was finally whole again.
âyes, the trophy and the championship title is coveted but it is not what truly matters to them and neither to you. it wasnât the actual win itself that you wanted today, but being able to win for them. and if your boys were to pick between winning without you and losing with you, iâm pretty sure you know better than i do what their immediate choice would be.â
should the other boys be here right now, they would instantly berate your ears off for even suggesting the first option. the thought flickers through wooyoungâs mind too and the corners of his lips tug upwards slightly.
still, he apprehensively confirms, â...no one is angry at me?â
âno,â you reply, voice soft, ânot at all. but we are worried.â
you are reminded of the weight in the pocket of your jacket. pulling it out, you present the ice pack to wooyoung. âlook, san told me to give this to you.â
his fingertips brush against your palm when he reaches out, hand hovering over the ice pack as if he does not dare to touch it. âsan did?â he whispers.
when you nod, the final confirmation that he needs that nobodyâyou includedâharbours ill feelings for him and his actions, he allows himself to take the ice pack. allows himself to love himself.
âyou need to take care of your body,â you fondly chastise, lightening the atmosphere. âdid coach cho not drill into you that as an athlete, your body is your most valuable asset? if you thought he was bad, heâs going to seem like an angel when iâm through with you. you wonât just be banned from playing, iâll tie you to the bed to make sure you donât walk on that ankle.â
wooyoung laughs through the few tears that are left, mood lifted enough to suggestively lift his eyebrows and quip, âkinky.â his laughter grows when you punch his arm in response.
no longer does he have to carry this burden alone because you are there for him now. but you know that you are not the only one who can be there for wooyoung. the dynamic between the boys runs past mere teammates and from what you have noticed, quite possibly even friends.
tentatively, you suggest, âmaybe this is something you should tell the others about. that way you can truly let things go.â
his gaze wavers at the idea as he looks at you. yet, the miniscule smile and encouraging nod you give him fills him with tranquillity. perhaps it is time to let go, but the only way he can truly do that is if he is honest to the boys about his feelingsâif he is honest to himself.
âokay,â he breathes out softly.
you grace him with another beat of silence before you stand up, extending your hand out to him. âletâs go.â
wooyoung takes your offered hand and lets you pull him up to his feet. he does not know if it is intentional, but the slight squeeze you give him right before your hand lets go of his fills him with warmth. the feeling stays with him even when he activates the ice pack as you two walk back to the locker room.
right at the doorway where the rest of the team is behind, you stop. you place your hand on wooyoungâs back, whose brows are starting to furrow in confusion. âiâll be waiting out here. take your time,â you tell him.
âthank you, coach,â wooyoung returns your soft smile.
before you can think better of it, you reply, âi wasnât talking to you as your coachâŠbut as your friend.â then you nudge him towards the doorway with tender encouragement, waiting for him to walk through the threshold before you close the door behind him.
the first few months you had coached the red devils, mistrust had been in the shape of private conversations that deliberately excluded you. but now, trust is in the conversations that you know you do not need to be a part of. so you simply lean against the wall and wait.
and when they emerge from the locker room half an hour later, you know you have made the right decision upon seeing their eased expressions and relaxed shoulders. the air is still sombre, their defeat in the semifinals still fresh at the forefront of everybodyâs minds, but what matters now is that they will face the loss togetherâthe eight of them and you.
âhere you go.â
hongjoong hands you your bag so that you do not have to go back in to grab it. you take it graciously from him, then with him by your side, you two lead the group through the arenaâpast the gazes and whispers that follow your groupâand out to the teamâs bus.
first to load his kit bag, yeosang takes his usual seat towards the front and waits. he has long developed the habit of placing his backpack under the seat in front of him instead of beside him. as the bus starts to pull away once all the bags are properly stored, you wordlessly take the seat next to him. your knees intermittently brush up against each other with the slight sway of the bus, but neither one of you make a move to shift your legs away.
you and yeosang watch the outside world whirl by the window, just like you always do. except the flowers that have bloomed among the treesâthat had been bursts of positivity and vibrancy only just this morningâare now bittersweet reminders of the fall that you and the boys have just experienced.
a brief movement below your line of vision causes you to glance down. it is yeosangâs hand, palm upturned with a silent invitation of solace. you slide your fingers into his, an extension of the comfort you wish to give to them, and them to you.
what you and the boys do not realise, though, is that your flowers have simply bloomed elsewhere.
your jaw drops in sync with the last of the heavy suitcases that seonghwa rests on the floor outside their apartment complex. the amount of his luggage is easily equivalent to at least half the teamâs.
âthese are all yours?â you confirm.
seonghwa looks at you strangely, âof course. why?â
you look at him strangely. âare you planning on moving? why did you pack enough for a trip around the world?â
âwell somebody didnât want to tell us where we were going, so i had to make sure i was prepared for wherever our destination would be.â
âitâs called a surprise for a reason,â you shake your head, âand i did tell you to pack for cold weather, didnât i?â
seonghwa fakes offence, scoffing, âcan i remind you that it is still spring here, so my apologies for assuming that it might potentially mean we are travelling overseas.â
âyouâre such a worrywart, you old fart,â wooyoung teases, circling around the older on his rideable suitcase.
seonghwa yelps when the wheels nearly run over his toes and he threatens, ânext time you wet through your entire pack of underwear, donât come crawling and begging for my spares.â
the suitcase halts indignantly to a stop with its rider. âthat was one time,â wooyoung complains, âand it wasnât even my fault!â
âit wasnât even my fault,â seonghwa mocks. âi told you not to put your shampoo in a ziplock bag but no, you said that it would be fine.â
wooyoung sticks his index finger up. âcorrection, hongjoong said that it would be fine.â
âwhat the fuck, wooyoung,â hongjoong blanches at the sudden disclosure.
âand thatâs exactly where you are at fault,â seonghwa cocks his eyebrow at wooyoung. âwhy would you listen to him?â
âwhat the fuck, seonghwa. iâm your captain,â hongjoong scowls.
âonly during games.â
when you make eye contact with san, the two of you can only sigh with amused resignation. the rest of the boys shake their heads and proceed to load their luggage onto the bus, leaving the trio to feud it out in the background.
as mingi stacks his luggage beside yunhoâs, he turns to ask, âare you sure we donât need our kits?â
âyou all brought your skates and sticks with you?â you question in return. when mingi and yunho nod, you reassure them, âthen thatâs all you need.â
jongho pipes up from beside you, âbut what about training?â
âmental training,â you simply grin before hopping up the stairs to sit beside yeosang.
the boys gradually take their seats, even wooyoung and the two oldest despite their continued bickering. somebody yells out over the commotion, âcoach! are you going to tell us where weâre going now?â
you peer backwards over the top of your seat to find everyoneâs eager eyes on you. ânope,â you snicker, âyouâll find out when we get there. we are going on a holiday though, iâll tell you that much.â
there is a surge of excitement at your confirmation and a similar fluttering eagerness flits through you, except yours is because you cannot wait to see their reactions. you really hope that the next two weeks will help to reset the teamâs morale and give them a much-needed break.
âkq let us go on holiday?â yeosang asks with an impressed look as you settle back in your seat.
you give him a proud smirk. âiâm pretty convincing when i want to be. plus, we just had playoffs and we would all benefit from the rest. what better time to do that than at the start of the off-season?â
âthere is no better time.â
âexactly.â
and so the bus starts the four-hour drive towards what the boys will soon come to realise is a team retreat. mingi connects his phone to the bluetooth, in charge of shuffling the music that blasts through the speakers, turning the atmosphere of the bus into a lively concert once it becomes obvious that it is going to be a long trip.
you have to yell over their deafening singingâwhich you have to admit actually sounds quite impressiveânumerous times for them to sit their asses down, their enthusiasm uncontainable by the seat belts and law regulations. but they look their age, free and untroubled; just a group of boys up to their silly antics with one another, so you cannot bring yourself to truly regulate them.
the bus drives on, making a rest stop at one of the service areas along the highway so that you can stretch your legs in fresh air, use the restrooms and most importantlyâ
âfood!â
their hollers resound before the doors of the bus even open. the second that the gap is large enough to fit one of them through, most of the boys go sprinting off like a stampede of toddlers in the direction of the food court.
wooyoung stays back and slips his arm through the crook of your elbow when you step off the bus too. he grins mischievously, âiâm sticking with you so you can pay for my food.â
âoh, stop it,â yunho tugs him away, pulling even harder when it only serves to make wooyoungâs grasp tighten around your arm. âiâll pay for your food. leave her wallet alone.â
you laugh brightly as you are jostled around and you pull a card out of your back pocket, holding it up like a golden ticket. you waggle your brows playfully, âitâs on the company card.â
both wooyoung and yunho freeze. their eyes instantaneously start to glimmer, faces radiating when they slowly look at each other. then before you can react, they pounce on you, linking their arm through yours on either side of you and dragging you along to catch up with the rest of the team.
âbuy whatever you want!â wooyoung brags and waves the card that he has seized off of you, âitâs on me!â
the service area itself is a field trip as the eight boys cause carnage throughout, except the destruction is in the number of times they swipe the company card. their hands quickly fill with rice cakes and fish skewers, corn dogs and grilled squid, more bags of walnut pastries and roasted potatoes tucked safely under their elbows. they demolish the snacks at the same rate it takes for the next ones to be prepared and the card is tossed around to keep up with their purchases.
they do not forget about the drinks either, getting iced americanos and barley tea to go along with their snacks, and banana milk and soda for the next leg of the trip. whatever catches their eyesâbasically everything they lay their eyes uponâthey buy. you do have to draw the line at daytime drinking though, narrowing your eyes at the cases of beer jongho and yunho try to pick up until they sheepishly put them back.
(you also end up having to purchase motion sickness tablets because seonghwa and mingi gorge themselves so full on snacks that they are queasy before they even make it back on the bus. kqâs president sends you a text too, asking just what exactly you and the boys have bought to rack up almost forty consecutive purchases at a service area. but the subsequent message asking if they are enjoying themselves tells you that his question is all in good fun.)
their energy mellows out during the last hour of the trip, both from tiring themselves out and from the gradual change in the scenery outside the windows. no longer can you see an endless mirage of highway road and open fields.
as the miles build up the further you travel, it leads deeper into a mountainous woodland with the trees growing denser and thicker around you. the narrower road winds around the base of hills and the bus driver carefully navigates the undisturbed peace of the forest. it starts to get colder and when the branches of the trees gradually dress themselves in dappled layers of snow, more of you shoulder on the thick coats and puffer jackets you had told them to bring.
the bus eventually arrives at a clearing amongst the pine trees, revealing a large but welcoming cottage pension. its wooden exterior and sloped roof gives it a distinctly cosy and rustic look, with large glass doors spanning the entire height of the walls that will let you admire the surrounding mountainous beauty from inside. off to the side of the cottage, there is a sizeable lake that has frozen over and immediately, you know that this was the perfect place to choose.
the boys press their faces against the window to get a better look as the bus pulls up beside the accommodation. âwoah,â they breathe out, their exhales fogging up the glass.
they follow you off the bus in a trance, mouths open and unable to peel their eyes away lest they waste even a second to drink up the sight before them. here, in the heart of the taebaek mountains, it is still a winter wonderland despite the spring blossoms that cover the rest of seoul.
you turn to face them, walking backwards slowly and spreading your arms out with fond tenderness. âwelcome to your home for the next two weeks, boys.â
even though it is simply an illusion created by taebaekâs geographical location and mountainous terrain, this time you find yourself appreciating the coldness and bareness of the winter-like ambience that cocoons you and your boys. it is as if time has stopped and there are no worriesâŠonly time to heal and start afresh.
living together, even if just for a holiday, is different.
you are used to only seeing the team in their training clothes, practice jerseys or bulked up in their padded gear and uniform. but here, the boys wear lounging sweatpants and worn hoodies, hair soft and poking into their eyes, bodies and expressions unguarded as they laze around. and where you are used to only seeing them at training, meetings and games, all rigorously scheduled and planned, there are no expectations to follow and no limits as to when you see them here.
the boys have their own organised chaoticness to their daily routines, having been living together for almost seven years now, and it seamlessly integrates into the space of the cottage too. but what truly surprises you and them is how you naturally blend into it.
when you rented the pension, you had ensured there were at least three bathrooms to accommodate all nine of you. however, you quickly discover that numbers mean nothing because the boys are incapable of staggering their morning and nightly bathroom routines one by one like you had assumed they would. you also realise that it is not that they are incapable, but that they like and want to do everything together.
space within a room holds no meaning to them and they are perfectly content to stand pressed up against each otherâs sides, expertly dodging elbows and leaning over one another to reach for their toothbrushes or skincare. after that first night, you wake up in the morning and patter off in search for the least cramped bathroom to wriggle yourself into, up to three of you sharing the large sink and mirror that now looks comparatively tiny as you brush your teeth together.
more often than not, you find yourself sandwiched between yunho and mingi. it is moreso a matter of neither boy letting you escape from their clutches if you happen to peer into whichever bathroom they have crammed themselves into.
âwe make the perfect ratio as the two tallest plus you as the shortest,â mingi likes to rationalise, âso it averages out perfectly with three boys in each of the other bathrooms.â
âbut sanâs shoulders are basically the equivalent of two grown men, so your point is invalid no matter how we divide ourselves up,â you like to argue back.
except they refuse to see reason. instead, yunho raises the volume of the speaker he has set on the sinkâs counter that blasts out music to playfully drown you out. you relent every time and it turns into goofy dancing from the three of you as you pull silly expressions at one another in the mirror. when you rinse your mouth, mingi will start a gargling competition without fail, but none of you have lasted for more than three seconds before you begin to choke with laughter.
(when you are with people you like, everything is funny.)
seonghwa shakes his head whenever he passes the bathroom, insisting, âthe only thing you guys are missing is a disco ball.â he is definitely not jealous of the fun you three are having. not at all.
the eldest has his own routine though, visible in the way he prepares everybodyâs cups of coffee in the morning. they are all made differently according to individual preferences; no sugar, double shots, a dash of milk, brown sugar, matcha powder or decaf. and despite the fact that yeosang is usually up the earliest, seonghwa does not allow him to make his own coffee.
seonghwa claims it is because nobody knows how to properly use the drip brewer, but yeosang sits next to you and murmurs into your ear, âhe just wonât admit that he likes to make them for us.â it must be the chill of the morning, but yeosangâs warm, whispery voice always sends goosebumps over your arms.
by the second morning, seonghwa finds himself naturally grabbing an extra cup and the hot surprise greets you with one and a half teaspoons of sugar in it, just how you like it. hongjoong emerges from the bathroom moments later to grab his cup and as he takes a careful sip, his eyes flit over the remaining cups on the table. seonghwa can practically hear the numbers ticking up in his head.
ây/n already took hers,â he verbalises, beckoning with his chin.
hongjoong turns around in the same direction to see you curled up on the sofa next to jongho and yeosang, your feet tucked comfortably underneath you as you lean forward out of curiosity to take a sip of jonghoâs americano. when your expression scrunches up from the shock of bitterness, jongho giggles brightly and steadies your hand that is holding your own cup of sweetened coffee. his eyes melt at your reaction.
âoh, i know that expression,â hongjoong chortles. âheâs a goner.â
seonghwa sees the honey in hongjoongâs own eyes and he smiles knowingly, âi donât think heâs the only one.â
hongjoong does not peel his gaze away from the three of you all cosied up on the couch. âyouâre right, theyâre both goners,â he hums absentmindedly, not at all registering who exactly it is who is being referred to.
(the true answer is that there are more than three of them.)
you discover that wooyoung is usually in charge of cooking, but in return, everybody else gets up to clear and wash the dishes the moment the last pair of chopsticks is placed down on the table. that is the only time they are allowed into the kitchen because they are apparently all walking hazards.
but when wooyoung realises you can actually handle a knife without giving him grey hairs from watching, the two of you easily divide the roles and tasks between yourselves. like a waltzing dance, you move together in the kitchen to prepare the meals. he passes you the spices in the overhead cabinets before you ask and you close the fridge when he takes out a pack of meat or vegetables.
cooking with wooyoung is never without bickering. he does not let you hear the end of the time you bump your head on the edge of the counter when you try to grab a saucepan from underneath, or the time you squeal after the oil starts to splatter from the onions. but if that is the reason why he starts to subtly move his hand to cushion the edges of the counters when you bend down to find something, or why he chooses to do the stirring and frying while you slice, then he pretends it is merely coincidence.
san never strays far away from the kitchen whenever you and wooyoung are cooking. you have noticed that they do not really ever stray apartânone of the boys do, though. wooyoung talks as you and san listen and the latter does not stop smiling as he watches wooyoung multitask. what you do not realise is the countless times you have forgotten to keep cooking because you are watching him too with the same expression that san wears.
(the rest of the boys realise and they also see the way san and wooyoung will pause to gaze at you.)
when you two have mostly finished cooking and it is simply a matter of waiting for the sauce to simmer or the soup to boil, you find that wooyoung will take his seat next to san on the barstools at the island, knees and thighs touching as he continues the conversation. you gravitate towards them the first time before catching yourself, cautious that you may be intruding, but then san gives you a dimpled smile and beckons for you to come and sit by his other side.
san likes to keep a gentle hand resting on wooyoungâs knee as he talks. when he does the same thing to you without even looking, your lungs stop working for a minute. the only thought that consumes your mind is the warm sensation of sanâs thumb soothingly running back and forth across your skin. you do not want him to stop, so you stay still in hopes that he continues. you are pretty sure san does not even consciously realise he is doing it.
(san does, and he is glad you do not move away.)
in the hours after dinner and before you all head off to sleep, you pile the thick blankets into the open living room and squish yourselves on the least number of couches as possible. again, space holds no meaning when you are with the boys and you find the press of yeosang and hongjoongâs skin against your own more natural there than not.
sometimes you watch movies together, other times talking with low voices as the hours tick by, and other times where you are all doing your own things but in the presence of one another. regardless, the nine of you stay cuddled in front of the fireplace with the warm glow of the fire and the light dreamy flutter of snow outside the windows.
yeosang tenderly tucks the blankets up around mingiâs shoulders when he falls asleep before turning to you on his other side. âare you warm enough?â he softly asks. and even though you say you are, he still tucks the edges of your blanket under your chin, nestling you safely within the blanket, hongjoongâs side and his own body.
the boys are naturally affectionate with one another and seeing the close dynamic of theirâŠfriendship so intimately in the environment of the retreat reminds you once more of the possibility that their relationship may run deeper than they let on.
(but when that affection extends to you, you wonder what exactly that may mean for your own relationship with the boys.)
and so living together, even if just for a holiday, is different. it is different when they are the first sight to greet you when you wake up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and voice still husky from fatigue as they murmur good mornings to you, and your cheeks start to glow with rosiness.
it is different when the decisions you make together are not about a change in formation or a defensive power play, but what to make for dinner and what movie you want to watch afterwards, and it makes you begin to wonder what other mundane decisions you want to make with them. it is different when they wrap you in their embraceâeight consecutive hugsâto bid you goodnight, and it takes you longer to fall asleep because you toss restlessly in your bed as their smiles replay in your head.
being on the retreat together is strangely domestic and homelike. but it has been almost nine months since you have started coaching the boys and thus seeing them every day for countless hours on end. so really, this trip should not change anything.
and yet, it feels like everything is changing.
jongho pays no mind to the conversation that is happening around him. last he heard, half of you are wanting to go out to skate on the lake before the sun sets and the other half are wanting to finish the halli galli championship you had started the night prior.
he is happy to do either but his mind is distracted by something else. as the screen of his phone lights up, jonghoâs eyes flicker down and he puts his hand over the glowing display before anybody can see the caller id. you glance at him when you catch the movement in the corner of your peripheral vision, only to look away when yunho calls out your name to see which of the two options you would prefer.
the screen goes black as the call goes unanswered. seconds later, it lights up briefly with a notification.
pick up.
then the caller id shows up again. jongho grabs his phone and mumbles to nobody in particular, âgoing to grab something from my room.â
closing the door to the room that he is sharing with hongjoong in the pension, jongho sits down heavily on the edge of his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. whilst he has no qualms ignoring their messages now, he still finds it difficult to do the same to their phone calls. he finds his resolve weakening as he watches his phone ring for the third time within minutes.
so jongho picks up. âmother,â he greets stiffly.
she scoffs scathingly, âyou finally decided to pick up.â
âiâve been busy with the playoffs.â a half lie.
âbusy? busy losing, you mean,â his mother ridicules. jongho is taken aback by the fact that she is aware, since he did not tell his family. it makes sense when she berates, âdo you know how embarrassing it was for me to find out from your aunt? she told me to congratulate you for making it into the semifinalsâthe semifinals, jongho.â
he feels a heat of shame at what she is insinuating. jongho defends, âthatâs still the top four out of seventy six teams.â
ânobody cares,â she turns her nose up. âit does not matter if you came fourth, second or lastâunless you win first place, the result is not worth anything. our entire family has a legacy of achievements and your younger brother even has an olympic gold medal now. but what have you done? this is a mere national competition and yet you are incapable of making it into the finals.â
âjongââ his name dies on the tip of your tongue and your hand stops before you can knock on the door when you hear jonghoâs muffled voice.
the boys had finally decided to grab their skates so you had come to get jongho to join everybody outside. realising he is talking to somebody, you are about to turn away and give him some privacy, but the words you hear make you freeze.Â
it is not the conversation itself that you overhear; it is the wounded tone of jonghoâs voice that makes it impossible for you to walk away. your feet stay rooted to the spot, in fact, wanting to enter the room. you have not heard jongho in such great affliction before, not even when he was consoling the boys with tears in his own eyes after their crushing defeat in the playoffs.Â
âwhen are you going to celebrate my achievements for what they are, instead of telling me to do better?â jongho appeals.
he has lived his entire life being told that he is not good enoughâconstantly compared to the accomplishments of his family, particularly those of his younger brother. what he does not understand is why he cannot just be recognised for the athlete that he is, void of any other person.
his mother is silent and for a brief moment, jongho thinks that she may finally see some sense in his wordsâŠonly for her to unfeelingly state, âwhen they are worth celebrating.â with a simple, âdo better,â she hangs up on him.
jonghoâs hand falls limply into his lap, phone slipping out of his lax fingers with a dull thud to the ground. he wants to swear. he wants to cry. he wants to throw his phone against the wall until the screen shatters. but jongho simply leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, the crushing weight of dejection forcing his lungs to exhale shakily.
there is a faint, timid knock on the door. he knows who it is immediatelyâonly one person would knock so softly. âcome in,â he answers listlessly, because he could never bring himself to ignore you no matter his own feelings.
the door cracks open to reveal your tentative figure and you slip through the opening. from the way your lips are pulled down, eyes rounded with concern, jongho knows that you have connected enough dots to understand the context of the phone call.
you approach the bed and try to ignore how small the boy in front of you looks with his shoulders hunched inwards on themselves. jongho has always appeared as the most collected and composed, even more so than the captain, and it makes your chest tight to realise he has simply been hiding this whole time.
jongho is not a man of many words so you do the next best thing that feels right in the moment. you simply open your arms. when his hands slowly come up in silent acceptance, you step forward to engulf him in your embrace.
he presses his face into the soft warmth of your stomach. the darkness welcomes him with safety and comfort and he lets out a stuttering breath that racks his entire body. you wrap one arm around his shoulders and cradle the back of his head with your other, your fingers tenderly caressing his hair in soothing motions.
although silence is what he needs, you allow yourself to say one thing to him. you murmur, âiâm proud of you, jonghoâŠso, so proud of you.â
and they are the words he has been wanting to hear his entire life. unable to keep it together any longer, jongho breaks down in your arms with tearful sobs and allows himself to grieve for the acknowledgement he has yearned his entire life and never received. however, it will only be for tonight because he has realised that it is futile to chase after recognition from a person who refuses to see his worth, even if that person is his own family.
there will always be other people who can see his actual worth; the same people who will still love him even if he does not have a gold trophy to call his. for him, those people are his seven boys and you.
so he stays in your arms with you wrapped around him, time lost to the two of you. he cries until he has no tears left and you tilt your head upwards to stop the flow of your own tears before they can drip down onto the crown of his head. and outside the bedroom, hongjoong quietly eases the door shut to give you both some privacy.
you do not know how much time has passed when you finally step out. jongho has fallen asleep after you tucked him under his covers, exhausted. heading towards your room to change out of your shirt, you are startled by the sight of hongjoong lingering near the door.
âyou didnât go out with the boys?
he shakes his head, then conscious of where you two are standing, he gestures inside your room and follows you in. âis jongho okay?â hongjoong asks.
âi think soâŠheâs sleeping now but probably just needs a bit more time,â you sigh, âi just wish i could do more for him.â
hongjoong reassures, âyou are already doing so much more than you realise.â
for jongho. for wooyoung. for all of them. comfort has never been about the words or actions, but the person who is by their side, and for the boys, having you there is already enough.
âreally?â you worry.
âyes, really.â
before he realises what he is doing, hongjoong reaches out to gingerly cup the side of your face to thumb away the worry in your brows. ây/n, you take care of us all the timeâŠbut who takes care of you?â he whispers.
âiâm your coach, of course iââ
âno,â he interrupts. âyou arenât just our coach and from what i have seen, you arenât just our friend either. unlessâŠâ hongjoong hesitates, âunless iâve been reading everything wrong, then in which case, tell me and iâll move away.â
you do not reply. your eyes flicker back and forth between his, your heart racing and mind blank. it is trueâthey are not just your players and they are not just your friends either, but you are unsure about taking such a huge leap of faith and acting upon the feelings you have only just started to understand.
hongjoong takes your silence as encouragement to step even closer until he is right in front of you. he keeps his hand on your cheek, his other coming up to delicately cradle your waist. you are standing intimately enough for his warm breath to span across your cheeks as he tenderly pleads, âlet us take care of you as more than what we are right now.
âif you do not want to put a label on it then thatâs fine, we wonât. weâll still be your team and youâll still be our coach. but please, let us take care of you when you are hurt, when youâre upset or angry, and when you are happy, too. let us love you as one of ours.â
as one of theirs.
you swallow and confirm, âare you all together?â
âyes, weâre dating each other,â hongjoong nods.
âbut then whyâŠâ your voice trials off. why me, too?
hongjoong taps the tip of your nose and jokes lightly, âis there a capped limit as to how many people we are allowed to love?â
it pulls a giggle out of you and he smiles fondly as he reiterates, âwe donât need to put a label on this and we can go entirely at your pace. just let us into your heart, please?â
for a moment you wonder what will happen to your professional relationship with the boysâwhat will happen if things do not work out or worse, if other people find out and report you all for it. but when you really think about it, you realise that the professionalism between you and the boys has long since blurred.Â
you do not know if you can go back to seoul after this retreat and act like you do not want to continue living with them. most importantly, you do not want to know if you can. so you take the leap of faith and nodâyou want to be theirs.
when you first met the red devils in autumn last year, you were resolved to win over them. never would you have expected that you would win them over in more ways than oneâŠand be won over yourself.
âhi, girlfriend.â
seonghwa smacks the back of wooyoungâs head. âstop pressuring her,â he hisses as the younger cackles delightfully and strides away through the snow impressively fast considering he is wearing his skates.
âignore him,â seonghwa turns to you, where you are sitting on the porch steps to the cottage. he squats down and takes the laces out of your hands to start doing up your own skates.
âi can do it myself,â you start.
âi know you can,â seonghwa hums, gazing up lovingly, âbut i want to do it for you.â
you press your lips together in an attempt to hide the shy smile that blooms across your face and when that fails, you duck your head down instead. ever since your talk with hongjoong the other day, the boys have been significantly more obvious and proactive with their displays of affection for you. however, you are pretty sure they had their own conversation when you were asleep or in the shower, because not one of them pressures you into something you are not ready for, even if that includes making your relationship official.
âthere you go. is it too tight? too loose?â seonghwa taps your skates and you tell him they are perfect. taking his offered hand with an appreciative smile, he pulls you up to your feet and you go to join the rest of the boys on the frozen lake.
you are sure it feels the same for every single one of your boysânothing can compare to that moment when you first step onto the ice. it is where you become a completely different person; a fish back in water, in control and at home.
it had been a gamble renting the cottage pension as you were unable to know whether the lake would be frozen over enough to allow for skating. but it is as if the heavens know not to separate you and your boys from the love and passion that your entire lives revolve around, because you are blessed to see them scrambling out to play on the frozen lake almost every single day, just like they are right now.
san spots you and seonghwa and beckons for you two to join. âhongjoongâs the tagger,â he calls out.
the captain stands at the other end of the lake, back facing everybody as he drawls, âgreen lightâŠâ
before hongjoong even starts to enunciate the first word, yunho, wooyoung and jongho have already pushed off their skates to advance. it sets off an immediate chorus of indignant shouts and desperate acceleration amongst everybody else to catch up. you laugh and seonghwa drags you along with him urgently, unable to stand your apparent nonchalance and uncompetitiveness.
but oh, how wrong he is. very quickly, you join the majority of the boys in a game of who can be the most sneaky with dirty play. wooyoung and mingi tussle with one another right as hongjoong turns around with his yell of âred light!â, trying to topple the other over so they get caught. jongho yanks on the back of seonghwaâs jacket whilst yeosang giggles and joins in to yank on jonghoâs, effectively preventing all three of them from advancing forward.
âlet go of me, you brats!â seonghwa flails forward against the combined weight of the two boys but to no avail.
you use yunhoâs height to your advantage and hide behind him, steadily creeping forward even when hongjoong has turned around to face you all. yunho quickly catches on and extends his hands backwards for you to latch onto. you are more than happy to let him do all the hard work skating you both towards the captain and you grin cheekily at the trioâstill caught up in their self-induced tug-of-warâas you overtake them easily.
ây/nâs cheating!â san hollers, the only one who is actually playing by the rules.
âlifeâs not fair!â you holler back gleefully at the same time that hongjoong sniggers, âsan, you moved your mouth! go back.â
san gives an indignant cry, âfavouritism, i say!â but, bless his heart, moves back to the starting line regardless.Â
when yunho is almost towering over hongjoong, he cues you to get ready to escape by letting go of your hands. you pivot around and without waiting for anything else, you start to run away.
âgreeââ
yunho tags hongjoongâs right shoulder before pushing off to the left so that he escapes the otherâs immediate line of vision. except it means that the first person that hongjoong sees when he turns around is you.
an involuntary squeal escapes you when you hear the terrifying crispness of skates on ice right behind you followed by the captainâs arms snaking around your waist. âcaught you, babeâ he beams. hongjoong lifts you up with shit-eating smugness at your reactionâboth at his close proximity and the pet nameâspins you around for good measure, then sets you back down to chase after the others.
wooyoung skates in a wide arc to dodge the captainâs frenzied rampage, only to suddenly appear right beside you with the most telling glint in his sparkling eyes that he is up to mischief. he grins.
âwooyoung, no,â you warn.
he grabs you by the waist. âwooyoung, yes.â
wooyoung pushes off his skates with you in front of him at breakneck speed across the ice, bellowing at the top of his voice, âmake way for the cripples!â
you scream the entire way to the end of the lake, hands clutching onto his like a lifeline as a colourful string of words flies out of your mouth. you think you black out for a second because when you open your eyes again, you are in a heaving tangle of arms and legs on the cushiony surface of powdery snow.
âoh, shit,â hongjoong winces.
the boys speed towards you and wooyoung, and yunho peers down at you on the ground with panicked concern in his eyes. âare you two okay?â he asks but when he sees that you are laughing, unrestrained and radiating joy, yunho relaxes and joins in with relief.
theyâmainly seonghwaâfuss over you both enough to reassure themselves that there is not so much as a scratch or bruise, before mingi suggests playing a casual hockey game of five versus four. there are to be no goaltenders and san fashions makeshift goalposts by poking sticks into the snow on either ends of the lake.
the team splits into their usual arrangement when they are required to be in two groups; hongjoong, yunho, san and wooyoung; seonghwa, yeosang, mingi and jongho. normally, you would offer to be the honorary refereeâŠbut the boys have never been rough with you and you have confidence that you will not get hurt. so for the first time in years, you play.
it is far from a proper league game and it will never be enough to quench your thirst as a former athlete, but for now, gripping your stick on the ice in tandem with the others, you are contentâyou are alive.
like red light, green light, the game starts off fair and proper for a grand total of two minutes. then it becomes a circus of foul plays and increasingly creative methods of cheating as all sense of order is tossed out the window. yunho and san stand in front of you, leaving just enough space for you to handle the puck, whilst hongjoong and wooyoung flank your sides and use their sticks to block any attempts to steal the puck. as a shielded group of five, you all move up towards the goalposts like a formidable army tank.
in retaliation, jongho physically manhandles hongjoong out of the way, hugging him from behind with a vice grip that he swears not to let go. seonghwa, mingi and yeosang imitate him with similar displays of strength, turning the entire match into a childish scuffle of chaos and hysterics.
there are no proper rules, no proper gear and no proper stadiumâonly the bare minimum, yourselves and uncontainable laughter. it feels like you are kids again, little souls harbouring colossal dreams, running around on the fields with long branches and a pine cone you had found when you could not afford to go to a real rink.
it is like you have gone back in time to when all you knew about ice hockey from watching it on your television screen was that you had to get the puck into the goal. you and the boys are fresh, blank slates without a care in the world for the countless strategies and tactical plays that you have learned over the length of your careers.
without the pressures and routines of strict training regimes, you all reignite the very roots of your ardour and fervour for ice hockey. no longer is it about the scores and making it into the playoffs. no longer is it about winning the championships to gain the acknowledgement of other people. no longer is it about the trauma of betrayal, injury and defeat you have experienced.
playing is simply the thrill of skating liberally with no burdens across the ice. it is the feeling of thriving when your blade connects with the puck and sends vibrations up your arms. it is the rush of adrenaline as everyone moves in tandem with the same singular thought in your heartsâthat you love ice hockey with your entire lives. and that in itself is already more than enough, even without a gold trophy and championship title to prove it to yourselves.
for the last five years, the boys have had the leaves of their trees forcibly plucked and removedâby family, by coaches, and by injuriesâŠbut now?
it is time for their flowers to bloom.
spring, 2025: playoffs
standing off to the side, you watch your boys listening attentively to the reporter who is conducting an interview with them. you have continued to stay out of the media spotlight where possible, not yet entirely comfortable standing in front of the cameras again, but your boys have quickly grown accustomed to media coverage ever since their popularity gained traction thanks to their undefeated streak in the regular season.
the interviewer glances down at her prompt card before asking, âso tell me, what has been a major contribution to your success this season? your team has made a name for yourselves as the undefeated champions so farâquite a contrast to how you started off last season.â
seonghwa laughs cordially with her. âwe were getting used to a lot of changes last year so our teamwork and mentality wasnât the best,â he admits. âour agency gave us some time off to recalibrate, which really helped us to focus on building ourselvesâas individuals and as a team. i think we learnt to place our unconditional trust in one another and our coach. we still play with a dominantly offensive approach, but weâve been adopting different playing styles and experimenting with them, so this relies heavily on believing in each other.â
yunho nods, gesturing for the microphone to add, âas cliche as it may sound, a huge part of our growth was also learning how to accept loss. this wasnât just in the context of being defeated in the semifinals but in the wider lens of our past mistakes, relationships, and even situations that we could not change.
âit has been a tough journey for a lot of us over the last year, but we were lucky enough to have each otherâs support,â yunhoâs nostalgic smile reflects your own as you realise just how far both you and all of your boys have come. âonce we were able to let go, it meant that we could enjoy our career for what it truly isâplaying the sport of our dreams together, every day.â
the reporterâs ears perk up in interest at the segway to probe and she jumps on the opportunity to ask, âi am sure many of your fans have been curious for a long time. is there a special somebody who has supported youâor any of youâthroughout your journey?â
yunho passes the microphone to the hand that has extended out to reach for it. itâs san this time, who has a charmingly confident persona that he takes on whenever he answers questions during interviews. good thing too, because their fans are going to need something to distract them from understanding the confession he is about to make.
âthere is. we all do, actually,â his deep voice rolls off his tongue like butter. the way he smoothly talks with a flirtatious smirk never fails to make you swoon. âfunnily enough, we all met our girlfriend at about the same time.â
off to the side, wooyoung sends a wink in your direction and you have to muffle a snort with your hand and divert your glance away. the structural framework of the stadium ceiling suddenly looks very interesting. san stands there incredibly smug at his joke that he knows nobody but you and the boys will pick up on.
by the time you tune back into the conversation, the reporter has moved onto the next question. âlast year, you lost to the white tigers in the semifinals. how do you feel about facing them again later today?â
due to a spike in popularity, the korean ice hockey league had to divide its teams into two separate groups for the regular season matches this year. both the red devils and the white tigers had been placed in different groups and by some twist of fate, had ranked at the top and then seeded accordingly on either ends of the tournament brackets. now, your team faces theirs in the very last game of the season.
the finals.
âweâre quite excited, actually,â jongho responds. âwe have been wanting to play against the white tigers again some day and i donât think it gets any more fitting than meeting them in the finals. they have some incredible players but like seonghwa mentioned before, weâve been working hard to adjust our playing style to suit the situation. our coach has put in a lot of effort to hone in on our strengths and weaknesses, so no matter what todayâs outcome is, weâre confident that it wonât be an easy win for either team.â
âi am sure the finals is going to be a thrilling match. now, speaking of coaches,â the interviewer starts and you can see hongjoongâs hand twitching subtly at his side, ready to step in and deflect the question need be should it pertain to you.
she continues, âhow does it feel to play against your former coach?â
yeosang and mingi frown, unable to neutralise the confusion on their faces. hongjoong smiles calmly, ultimately taking over the microphone as he apologises, âsorry, could you please elaborate your question?â
it is the interviewerâs turn to fluster slightly but she nods quickly, âyou must not be aware, then.â
your eyes dart back and forth as you try to recall whether there is a crucial piece of information you have somehow missed or forgotten to tell the boys. the tone of her voice foreshadows something that makes the pit of your stomach churn.
âlast year, the white tigers had a stand-in coach, so you probably did not know.â she says her next words carefully and despite the bustling movement that fills the entire stadium, you can hear the exact moment all of your hearts drop.
âthe coach of the white tigers is coach yeon, your teamâs former coach in 2018âŠand heâs here today.â
you are the first to rush back into their locker room. frantically, you grab the official guide that had been given to you by the ice hockey league prior to the start of the regular season from out of your bag. you flip through it, team profiles upon team profiles blending into a hazy blur of faces as you find the one you are trying to look for.
ây/n,â somebody gently murmurs from behind you but you do not register their call. you continue to flick through the pages and when you find the profile for the white tigers, you scan the top of the page for a certain name with a shaky finger.
head coach: yeon ha joon
âoh my god,â you breathe out, hands lowering to your sides and gaze wavering. how the fuck had you managed to miss it this entire time?
you are not the only one affected by the revelation. the change room is pervaded by unease and restlessness, and wooyoung paces back and forth despite hongjoongâs attempts to get him to sit down. hongjoong himself cannot even remember how he answered the question about coach yeon, only that he had somehow excused themselves not long after to cut the interview short.
âhow is he still a coach?â seonghwa furrows his brows.
wooyoung stops pacing and your eyes are drawn to him when he suddenly blanches, âwhat if coach yeon is doing the opposite now and paying other teams to let his own team win?â
âno wayââ ââi wouldnât put it past himââ ââsurely not?â the boysâ voices overlap at the speculation.
it is a valid speculation based on what they have told you in the past about coach yeon. however, you stay quiet, suddenly aware of the fact that it is not something that would favour you should it be true. you gnaw the inside of your cheek because as much as you know that your boys would not suspect you, you still worry that doubt may cross their minds at one point, even if only briefly.
âunless the money he offered every single time was equivalent to the prize money, itâs highly unlikely the teams would have all accepted, right?â jongho points out.
yunho shrugs nonchalantly, âbut even if they did, we all know that coach yeon would never be able to bribe our girl.â
the way everybody immediately agrees expels some of the anxiety within you, filling you with reassurance and security that starts to relax your chest instead. wooyoung chooses that moment to finally sit down on the bench beside you. he adds, âweâre too whipped for you, so even if you were bribed, we would probably ask whether the money was enough and if you wanted more.â
san chucks a water bottle at him. despite yourself, you laugh and admit, âthat isâŠstrangely comforting.â
âsee,â wooyoung triumphantly boots the bottle back at the older. âshe gets it.â
seonghwa intercepts the pitiful bottle before it becomes weaponised and sets it down next to him. âshe wouldnât accept the money in the first place.â
âexactly, so why does any of this matter?â mingi suddenly questions.
yeosang knits his brows together as he states the obvious, âitâs coach yeon.â
âand?â mingi mirrors his expression with genuine confusion.
it is quiet in the locker room. the coach of the white tigers is indeed coach yeonâŠand so what? what exactly about the revelation has pushed you all to the edge of the cliff?
mingi cocks his head. âwhat iâm trying to say is, does it make any difference whether he is their coach or not? think about itâregardless of how he got his team to the finals, he has no unfair advantage over us. thereâs no way that he has bribed a fixed win in the finals, and he has no access to any insider knowledge that could jeopardise our tactics and plays.
âthe only leverage that he âhasâ is a psychological advantageâif we can even call it that. but weâre not the same boys who were too naive and powerless to do anything about it six years ago. if anything, we can easily turn this to work in our favour because i donât know about you guys, but iâm ready to drag his ass through the mud. what we said earlier about not caring for todayâs outcome? nah, fuck that. weâre going to fuck him up and show him that he messed with the wrong people.â
he takes everybodyâs silence as misunderstanding of his last statement and he hurriedly clarifies there is no violent intent, âby winning. fairly.â
âdamn,â jongho whistles. âyouâre onto something for once.â
mingi clambers over seonghwaâs legs to grab the forgotten bottle and it goes flying across the room with violent intent. âdude, what the fuck,â mingi grouses.
the dull thud that resounds when jongho holds sanâs leg pad up to block the projectile is enough to shift the mood in the room entirely. you finally relax into hongjoongâs side and he moulds you closer to him with the arm that he snakes around your waist as you both watch the locker room erupt into familiar pre-game mayhem.
yunho immediately scoops up the bottle and pitches it again. san stands to the side worrying over his poor leg pads as jongho uses them to bat the makeshift ball. his impressive accuracy makes you wonder whether they would have made it just as big as they are now had they formed a baseball team instead, but then yeosang narrowly dodges the bottle before it gives him a black eye, wooyoung cackles in the background, and you think better of it.
seonghwa joins you both on the bench and amongst all of the mischievous chaos and raucous laughter, you feel at peace, your hands clasped tenderly in the hands of your two captainsâin unity, trust and love. you affectionately squeeze their hands with unspoken conviction.
you know your boys are going to play well; you just have a good feeling.
the energy in the room spikes exponentially as you huddle together one final time before you walk out of the locker room, through the hallways and to the arenaâone final time before you step out to the ice rink as the red devils, playing in the final match.
you and your boys stand in a circle as close as it is physically possible with their bulky pads and game jerseys that they wear so proudly. it is indiscernible where one of you starts and where another ends from how intimately you all press together. your huddle is a woven nexus of arms and your hearts pound as one entity.
everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumnâŠand there is no victory without defeat. not a single one of your boys has made it this far without falling at least once, and the conscious thought makes your heart swell and your throat constrict with overwhelming emotion.
somehow, you manage to choke out, âi am so, so proud of all of you.â
yunho and seonghwaâs own eyes start to heat up with wetness. from your side, san kisses your temple with feather-like tenderness, âand weâre so proud of you. y/n, you have grown just as much as we have.â
âthank you for being our coach,â hongjoong murmurs into your ear from your other side, the tip of his nose softly nuzzling you.
wooyoung reaches out to thumb the round of your cheek, âand thank you for loving us when we found it difficult to love ourselves.â
you had always viewed your injury and career with anger, bitterness and anguishâŠbut you have finally come to terms with it. in the process of healing, you have learnt to love yourself, love eight other people, and to be loved. you have had your golden days as an athlete and you are now living your golden days as a coachâ
âthe very coach of the red devils, your team of boys who are living through their golden days as athletes, and you are going to lead them to victory in the finals.
swiping at a tear that slips down your cheeks, you grin. âboys, letâs win this match and then,â you pause as you meet their determined gazes, their smiles wide with uncontainable excitement, the tension in the room electrifying and palpable.
âletâs go international.â
you may have all fallen beforeâas athletes, as coaches, as a teamâbut you will always stand back up together, because at the end of the day your dream is theirs and their dream is yours. and like autumn, the leaves fall for a reason; they must fall before the spring flowers can bloom to their full beauty.
and bloom your flowers have.
the essence of youth is summers with you
genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 38.7k
c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions
synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding handsâ choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?
a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read âĄ
itâs the first day of summer when you move to namhae.
the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.
it isnât very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but youâre wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like itâs going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.
tentatively, you hop out and look around. itâs a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that thereâs a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach houseâ your new neighbours.
the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. thereâs a boy who peers out from behind his motherâs legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your motherâs dress and the adults share a laugh.
the boyâs mother gently nudges him forward. âgo on, sweetie. say hi.â
with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise heâs shorter than you are. âhi, iâm san. iâm six years old and i like the sea!â
the grip you have on your motherâs dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, âiâm y/n. iâm six and i like the sea too.â
his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your motherâs dress.
âweâre going to go play at the beach,â he announces, because youâre his friend now and friends play together.
on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.
âsannie!â you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.
he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, âhello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?â
you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of sanâs room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so thereâs not a day to be wasted.
âchoi san!â you holler again, thundering up to his door. youâre about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.
the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. youâve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and youâve also become familiar with the way sanâs arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.
âdo you have your bucket?â you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.
san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. itâs purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.
you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, ârace you to the beach!â using sanâs chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.
âthatâs cheating!â he yells after you.
you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before youâre off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of sanâs footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.
the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.
your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up insteadâ sanâs only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow downâ not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.
you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, âyour turn.â
you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.
you end up slowing down because itâs hard to run through water, and youâre met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.
âuse your own bucket, you loser,â he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before itâs swept out by the waves.
âare you cold?â san asks whilst passing it to you.
thereâs vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. âno,â you answer, ââm not cold.â never with you.
he nods, âlet me know if you do get cold, okay? iâll grab you a jacket or something.â
âmy house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,â you chuckle.
âi know, but itâs the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.â san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks heâs all grown up now that heâs in high school. but itâs not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.
âokay, thank you, sannie. iâll let you know if i so much as shiver,â you dotingly appease him.
he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, youâve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.
âwhatâs wrong?â you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.
you realise heâs distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the manâs body becomes an extension of the oceanâ a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagleâs wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.
san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the seaâs choreography. he declares, âi want to become a surfer.â
âwhat happened to becoming a dancer?â you raise an eyebrow. because if thereâs one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then itâs dancing.
âbecoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,â he breathes out. âjust look at him. he looks soâŠfree.â
you can see it in the way sanâs eyes follow the surferâs movements and sparkle with wonderâ the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. âthen try it,â you encourage, âwhatâs stopping you?â
san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. ânothing,â he proclaims with a growing smile. âabsolutely nothing.â
san has all the summers in the world to surf. and youâll be there with him for every single one.
you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeepâ the last of his luggage to be loaded.
âi donât get why youâre taking that with you. thereâs probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.â you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you donât really care right now. not when san is leaving and you wonât be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.
tugging on the straps once more to check that theyâre secure, he chuckles, âdoesnât hurt to take it just in case.â when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, âiâll be back every summer, yeah?â
âit wonât be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?â you grumble.
san laughs endearingly, âitâs only until i graduate.â
âor you find a job or a girlfriend and then youâll stay in seoul forever.â you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.
âjust four yearsâno job, no girlfriendâand then iâll be back. i promise.â he opens his arms a little, ânow, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?â
you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.
âiâll miss you,â you whisper, because you donât trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.
san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, âiâll miss you more.â
you bite back the urge to respond with âthen stayâ, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. sheâs discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you donât start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you canât afford that when this is the last time youâll see san until next summer.
you all gather around the driverâs window thatâs rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, âdonât cry, please? we can call whenever you want.â
you sniffle, âcall me when you arrive?â
he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like itâs the middle of winter today.
sanâs eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasnât been able to see your reflection the last three times heâs looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then thatâs between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.
you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you donât have to hold it. âwhat was that?â you pull your device closer to your ear. âare you going somewhere?â
there it is againâ the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, âhome.â
you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, âhome?â
âyeah, home,â san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. âi told you iâd see you soon, didnât i?â
âi didnât think you meant in five literal minutes,â you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. âoh my god, is that why you said you couldnât facetime me?â
you can hear his answer this timeâ not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, noâ the smooth deepness of sanâs voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.
in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, heâs not alone.
if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise youâve seen him beforeâ both of them, actually.
on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. heâs usually in one of the universityâs dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and theyâll appear behind him to say hello to you or youâll be able to hear them in the background of the call.
quite frankly, the crusty quality of sanâs front camera hardly does them justice because wow. theyâre hot. and tall. theyâre not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and sanâs family are waiting to welcome them.
san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, âyunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.â
yunho and mingi thank sanâs parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way theyâre immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasnât too tiring, you know sanâs parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.
âhey, pipsqueak,â san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.
you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, âlooks like youâve been busy doing everything but growing.â
âon second thoughts, maybe i donât really miss you.â
san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and thatâs all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, youâve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.
the rumble of sanâs chest is soothing as he says, âwell, i miss you. itâs good to be back home.â
you pull back a little to look up at him and god, heâs gotten so much taller. âitâs good to have you back home, choi san.â
the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, âbut you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.â
âon top of the fact that san doesnât shut up about you,â mingi jokes.
san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, ânamhae! he doesnât shut up about namhae!â
yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.
âare you two also dance majors?â you ask.
âyeah, so we share some classes together,â yunho explains. âmingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas iâm in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.â
âgood thing, too,â mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the otherâs shoulder. âiâve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.â
he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be sanâs. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so itâs his baby.
âare these all yours?â you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.
he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, âthe guys brought theirs along too.â
mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. âyou all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!â
âno, you were right. you canât,â san chortles in embarrassment. âbut there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.â
mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, âdoesnât beat the real thing, though.â
ânope, which is exactly why weâre crashing. sorry, by the wayâwe probably shouldâve asked you whether we could come,â yunho scratches the back of his neck.
you frown, âof course you can. itâs not like iâm the town head of namhae or anything.â
âbut they know we spend our summers together,â san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.
âoh,â you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, âyou know what? mingi was right. you donât shut up about me, do you.â
mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. itâs amusing to see san flustering so easily now that thereâs a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friendsâ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.
as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, âletâs go.â
âyou know i canât surf, san.â
he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, ânot to surf, silly. letâs go get our buckets.â
your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, âbuckets?â
âof course,â san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. âweâve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.â
half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ânamhae ninjasâ and the âhighschool homiesâ. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word âneighboursâ, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadnât been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.
san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just donât change, even over time.
mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.
where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.
âwhich one do you think looks better?â
your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunhoâs pick. âthis one,â she points, âthe other colour palette clashes too much.â
san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that theyâre discussing investment properties. in reality, youâre watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your fatherâs flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.
noticing the dubious frown on mingiâs face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants heâs holding. âthis is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,â she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. âit matches your shirt. i think youâll look the best in it.â
he immediately perks up and you canât help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. itâs incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.
you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.
yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. âwant to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?â
you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, âsorry, i wonât say that a-grain.â
he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacksâ how could anybody say no?
you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. itâs mesmerising to watch yunhoâs hands as he deftly carries out each stepâ the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. youâve come to realise that yunhoâs good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.
âhow did you start surfing?â you wonder.
yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. âi actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,â his voice is fond. âitâs been four or five years now.â
âthatâs really sweet of you.â
he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, âwhat about you? how come you donât surf?â
âsan roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,â you reveal. âi prefer watching, anyway.â
âmaybe you just didnât have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?â
you donât doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when heâs soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.
you chuckle, âyouâre going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, donât you?â
âthatâs true,â he hums. âbut thereâs always next summerâŠif youâd like that?â
at his words, you suddenly donât know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, youâre interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunhoâs progress. âof course youâre good at this too.â
you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within armâs reach.
âhowâs he going?â
san glances back, âheâs, uhâwell. heâs trying.â
âmy hardest!â mingi yells across the field.
with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.
the seedlings that mingi has planted donât look that bad, honestly. theyâre a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isnât all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. âhere, let me show you.â
you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, âthey may just be plants, but theyâre like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.â you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, âyou know, itâs kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.â
having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle youâre all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.
your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. âyunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.â
at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. âi was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myselfâŠgive myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,â he reveals. âsometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.â
âiâm glad you had him to help you through that.â
âyeah, heâs helped me a lot,â mingi agrees. âhe still does. sannie too.â as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.
âhow are things at home now?â you ask.
he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. âboth of them knew that i didnât want to go back to my hometown over summer. thatâs why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. itâs meant a lot to me.â
your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, âstop treating me like iâm the head of namhae. thereâll always be a place here for the both of you.â
he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. âwe just know how much summers mean to you and san.â
âand meanings can always change for the better,â you counter with a smile.
mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesnât go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at sanâs admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.
âhave you two just been sitting there this whole time?â yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw sanâs attention.
âno?â you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, âyes.â
the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, âwhat are you going to do about it?â
yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.
thatâs all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that itâs a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.
âyun, we can talk this out like adults,â you try to distract him.
whilst youâre struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that youâre not above begging.
âdonât come any closer! please, iâm sorry! iâmââ your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.
for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunhoâs arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his prettyâ but grubbyâ hands.
you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of sanâs headlock. he rapidly taps the latterâs forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.
mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each otherâs faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.
in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why sanâs parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.
you hadnât thought much of itâ just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, âgonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD weâll be there in about twentyâ.
this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why sanâs parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.
as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, youâre dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. itâs good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and youâd be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of youâ having forgotten just how tall they really areâ if your attention isnât distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind sanâs jeep.
either seoul has water thatâs doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. youâd be lying if your heart didnât skip a beat at the sight of them. youâre a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.
yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. âthis is y/n,â yunho introduces. âand these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.â
you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, âand this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.â
hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, âand we keep you as our tall circus freak.â
the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.
before you can so much as take two steps, thereâs a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, itâs sanâs kind eyes that are gazing back at you. âhere, let me do it,â he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.
left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way youâre subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.
thereâs a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise itâs heavier than it looks. âwhat the hell is in this? weights?â you mutter to yourself.
thereâs a giggle beside you, âsorry, thatâs probably yeosangâs bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.â
itâs jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. âwe can trade. this is much lighter.â
he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, thereâs the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that itâs the short boy, hongjoong. heâs only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you heâs still easily taller than you.
âmaybe you could help me hold this, too.â heâs holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern whatâs in his hands.
âwhat is it?â you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.
except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.
as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, âsanâs going to chop your hand off when he sees,â then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.
âitâs okay, i wouldnât let san do that to you,â you reassure.
hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, âbecause thatâd be animal abuse.â
âitâs been five minutes and youâve already picked your side,â he laments dramatically, before nodding. âi see how you play. i like you.â
âitâs a shame i donât,â you quip back immediately.
âfuck, did i just get rejected?â
yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, âstop digging yourself a deeper hole.â
you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. youâre definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoongâs friends have in teasing him.
you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. heâs watching the rest of the boys play âscissors, paper, rockâ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.
youâve had the fleeting thought before, but now that youâre seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, youâre slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.
âdo you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?â you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, itâs not him who answers you.
âaww, stop. you think weâre attractive?â of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.
immediately, the feistiness in you appears. âyeah, and iâm wondering why they made an exception for you.â
he takes on the jest easily, âgod, youâre obsessed with me.â
âyouâre right, iâm a little crazy for dogs,â you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of sanâs chuckles from next to you.
âgood thing iâd bark for you, then.â
âwhat the fuck, guys?â mingi interrupts, âget a room.â
at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, âhurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.â
yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for sanâs room. you turn to san incredulously, âyouâre fitting four people in your room?â
he shakes his head, âof course not. iâm going to sleep in haneulâs room. sheâs on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.â
âshe can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,â you suggest.
âoh, thatâs right. your parents are in yeosu now, arenât they?â
you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparentâs house for the meantime. theyâre not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, itâll likely be for a while.
san doesnât tell you, but thatâs part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that youâre silently struggling to adjustâ even if his parents take care of you like their own daughterâ so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didnât just have to be summer.
âdo you need to change into something else before we go?â he asks you.
you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that youâre wearing. you donât mind getting them wet, but you canât say the same about your underclothes. âyeah, iâll quickly go and change first.â
he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, âitâs good to see you again, pipsqueak. iâve missed you.â
you smile, âiâve missed you more.â
even after the door closes behind you, sanâs smile stays on his face. âiâve missed you the most.â
no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.
âyou cheater!â you screech when you feel sanâs arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. âyou said youâd give me a ten-second head start!â
his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, âi did! your little legs are just too slow.â
you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of sanâs yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the olderâs back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.
san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his faceâ revealing his abs in all of their wonderâ does the complete opposite of calming you down.
you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jonghoâs andâŠyeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.
san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.
hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosangâs attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermathâ your trio absolutely drenchedâ and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.
at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and youâre momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.
âup for more surfing?â he grins at you. and if thereâs one thing youâve learnt over the summer, itâs that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.
jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that heâs a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.
once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surferâs club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.
of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jonghoâs softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own boardâ a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunhoâs careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.
which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.
âyou remember how to push through the waves?â jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.
âyeah, hang on,â he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what heâs telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.
âhold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,â he explains as you shift your hands forward. âthe board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.â
you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.
âthereâs a wave coming in we could try,â yeosang suggests.
the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesnât increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.
âokay, ready? hold steady, steady,â jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, âand push up!â
you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the waveâs trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.
âi did it!â you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.
âyou did it!â the boys respond excitedly.
jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.
âjust a little more practice and youâll be taking on the monster swells in no time,â yeosang declares. you know heâs exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.
somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. itâs san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, âweâre going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?â
âyes!â you shout back, âwait for me!â
ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming itâs san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.
âsan, you left your phââ you start, except itâs yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. itâs warm from the hours itâs spent in the sun and you canât help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.
âhere,â he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.
san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. âthe groundâs pretty hot,â he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.
âwait, i forgot my wallet,â you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.
âdonât worry about it,â san reassures, âhongjoongâs buying.â
your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what youâre thinking. âyes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."
"even a doubleâno, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.
san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."
you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jonghoâs ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, âbleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!â
the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybodyâs, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.
from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he canât help but feel like heâs going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of sixâ which will hopefully become the full eight next summerâ and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that youâll never feel alone.
âif only wooyoung was here, then weâd have someone to grill the meat properly,â yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. âheâs the best cook out of us.â
âtrust him to be a good cook, too,â you comment.
when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who werenât able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jonghoâs drama society.
their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoungâs, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.
itâs a running joke that you donât need to remember how everybody knows each otherâ you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looksâ should the boysâ track record stay trueâ but apparently heâs a good cook too. some people really just have it all.
âwhat else do we need?â jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart heâs pushing.
âmingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,â you answer.
last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, youâre all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.
âletâs see if they have marshmallows, then,â jongho makes a move to walk away.
hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. âget in,â he tells you.
yeosang helpfully points out, âthat sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,â at the same time you question, âare we even allowed to do that?â
he beams, âi like to think that until somebody tells us weâre not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.â
âi can think of fifteen different reasons right now why thatâs terrible life advice.â
the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, âiâm really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as heâs older.â
âi hate to break it to you, but seonghwaâs worse,â jongho grimaces. âmaturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.â
at jonghoâs words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only youâre met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.
you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. âi canât believe iâm doing this,â you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, whatâs life without breaking a few rules?
except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.
âfaster, joong! faster!â you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.
both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyesâ from three aisles overâ are as trustworthy as VAR playback.
itâs no surprise when the ruckus youâre all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.
with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each otherâs sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, thereâs only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.
if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.
you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.
you wish you were older. because being older means that youâll have graduated, and being graduated means that you wonât have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.
âhey, you need those brain cells,â someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.
âcanât lose what i donât have,â you mumble back.
âtake a break,â she suggests. âdo you want me to get you something from the bakery?â
haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, âgot it. iâll be back.â
you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. itâs been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like youâve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.
your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what youâre relatively sure is the answer button. âyeah?â you say into the receiver.
âsomeoneâs a little grumpy today,â a teasing voice sounds.
âhwa?â you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.
it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. âare you still studying?â he asks.
you deflate a little, reminded of why youâve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. âmhm,â you hum affirmatively. âexcept nothingâs going into my brain anymore.â
âsounds like you need a break.â
âthatâs exactly what haneul said,â you grumble, although youâre not entirely sure why youâre so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.
âbecause weâre right,â he quirks his eyebrow. âwhatâs haneul doing at yours, anyway?â
âtaking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but sheâs forgiven since sheâs buying me snacks.â
âthen take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. itâll only be an hour, tops,â seonghwa convinces. âiâll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and iâll keep you company when you study.â
you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, âjust a few more weeks to go until summer and then youâll be free.â
âare you taking up summer school again?â you ask.
after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didnât get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadnât been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.
seonghwa grimaces at the memory, âno, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didnât even end up applying for any jobs.â he points a stern finger at you and warns, âdonât ever think about doing summer school.â
âtrust me,â you laugh, âi have no intentions of ever doing that.â
you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. âdoes that mean iâll finally get to meet you?â
seonghwa nods, âwoo as well.â
the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.
âoi! why are you all calling without me?â wooyoung complains.
contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, âweâre literally calling from the group chat. no oneâs leaving you out of anything.â
and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoongâs profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if heâs in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so youâre guessing theyâre busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.
someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but youâre momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. âhang on,â you mumble, âlet me justâŠreply to this.â
itâs one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether youâre home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears heâs close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, âsorry, what were you saying?â
the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be springâ the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.
âsomeone looks happier. who are you talking to?â haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.
you didnât even realise you were subconsciously smiling. âiâm facetiming the boys.â
she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, âi see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?â
âquit it!â you pretend to shove her. âwant to say hi?â you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and thereâs a chorus of obedient hi haneulâs as you turn up the volume.
she waves and peers at wooyoungâs video. âwhereâs the baby brat?â
from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, âstop calling me that!â thereâs a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoungâs grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that heâs sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.
âyou still respond to it, so,â haneul shrugs.
she disregards her brotherâs continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. âi bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,â she explains as you take it gratefully.
at the mention of a boyâs name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, âwhoâs johnny? is he haneulâs boyfriend or what? whyâs he giving you something?â
even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, âwho tf is jonnyâ.
you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, âheâs my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.â
wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, âwhy is he giving you notes. andâwhat the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.â
you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. âhow did you know i love these?â you exclaim.
she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, âhow do you think?â
from over your phone, the others start to ask what youâve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesnât take a detective to work out howâ or perhaps you should say, whoâ told haneul about your recent cravings.
because if thereâs one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.
hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head thatâs resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, âstop encouraging him, y/n. heâs going to think heâs actually funny or something.â
with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you donât think youâve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, itâs like watching a live sitcom.
wooyoung looks at him with a smug expressionâŠthen proceeds to yank the olderâs sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of sanâs living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwaâs socks and youâre glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyoneâs socks are a target.
the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but youâre not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and youâre all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.
itâs only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks sanâs third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.
you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because thereâs still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboardsâ a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.
the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of sanâs lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancerâ he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.
as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boysâ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others donât learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.
when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.
greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at sanâs or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.
afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.
the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jonghoâs hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwaâs shoulder, you wouldnât have it any other way.
sometimes, when youâre all feeling rejuvenated, youâll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. itâs rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessertâ any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoongâs wallet cry.
the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. youâre all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someoneâs head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.
and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activityâ as if every second of summer isnât already a bonding momentâ where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesnât usually actually become dinner until eight or nine oâclock.
but it doesnât really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, youâll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. sheâll spill her workplace tea and youâll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.
there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete thingsâ there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.
and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunhoâs hands hover around the small of your back whenever youâre all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.
familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. itâs in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.
but the thing with familiarity, though, is that itâs easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you donât understand this until you least expect it.
your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosangâs face. heâs taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone elseâs remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering youâve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.
you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. itâs when you get to your back that you realise you wonât be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but theyâre already running far along the shore and you canât be troubled to yell out for one of them.
youâre starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.
âyour short arms canât reach your back, can they?â
you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, âwho was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?â
âmaybe i just didnât want you to feel too bad about yourself,â he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well heâs incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.
âstop squirming,â he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. heâs meticulous in making sure he doesnât miss a spot, but heâs also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you donât feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word âuncomfortableâ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesnât need to know that.
âthere,â he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that heâs finished his job and then callously walks away.
you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what heâs doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.
youâre flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, âhi, iâm sorry to bother you.â
lifting your head up to look, youâre met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, âthatâs okay. can i help you?â
âum, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?â
the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so youâre not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. sheâs pointing in the direction of hongjoong, whoâs joined some of the others along the shore.
âthe short one?â you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, âiâm not too sure, sorry.â
the girl shakes her head, âoh, no. i meant the boy on his left.â
choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, ânot that i know of.â
the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.
you donât realise youâre staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into sanâs face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoungâs antics.
the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that youâre laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.
chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.
you canât help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that itâs normal for the boys to have suitors.
youâre not dating san. youâre not dating hongjoong. youâre not dating any of the boys, and theyâre certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boysâŠnot just your best friend?
the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridgeâ likely placed there by seonghwaâ is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boysâ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. youâre paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.
grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.
âhey, lilâ tomato,â he jests before he gets a good look at your face. âwoah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.â
you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, âthis is probably the worst sunburn iâve ever gotten before.â
hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. thatâs how you find yourself between hongjoongâs front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.
he murmurs, âhold still.â with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.
âadmit it. you like taking care of me, donât you.â
he rolls his eyes, âand you like being taken care of, donât you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.â
ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, theyâre just trying to keep low tabs on thisâŠclassmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.
âi admit itâs nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?â you challenge, poking his side testingly. âyou like taking care of me, donât you?â
you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.
âand so what if i do?â his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.
you donât respond because you donât know what to respond; youâre suddenly walking in uncharted territoryâ both in regards to his feelings and your own.
when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you canât help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. thereâs hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you donât move away when he moves closer in.
your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.
âsorry, iâthis was a mistake. i shouldnât be doing this,â he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.
âthâthatâs okay,â you awkwardly smile. âthis never happened.â
he nods without looking at you, âthis never happened.â
youâre glad your face is sunburnt because youâre certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.
quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because hisâŠwhatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldnât be doing this. you shouldnât be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.
and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesnât have any romantic interest in youâ or at the very least enough to want to pursue something moreâ then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of themâ much less all of themâ would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?
in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, itâs much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. itâs easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.
you canât tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.
youâre all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.
dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoungâs skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallowsâ the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.
someone had then suggested a round of âtruth or dareâ, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.
âmingi,â haneul directs her question at the taller, â if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?â
his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. âiâd date you all,â he shrugs. âbut if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since heâs been there for me from day one.â
yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, âyour parents would love to hear that answer.â
you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and youâre reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.
moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, âif you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?â
seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. âi think it depends on the situation, because in the end, theyâre not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. itâs impossible to say that one is more important than the other.â
thereâs a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where heâs coming from. it still doesnât stop san from retorting, âthe whole point is to pick one.â
seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. âwhat about you, then?â
much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.
âi would probably choose love. i think youâre right in saying you canât separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,â he muses. âitâs hard to find friends you love, but itâs even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.â
a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, âwhat do you think?â
you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. âi think i would choose love, too. iâll admit itâs a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be madeâŠit can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.â
hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.
âbut at the same time,â you continue, âwhen you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isnât always possible with friendship.â
âyou and san are both such gross romantics,â haneul pretends to gag.
âyeah, shoot us for it,â you poke her in the side. âwooyoung, truth or dare?â
âsince everyoneâs picking truthâŠtruth.â
âwhoâs someone youâre sorry towards or thankful for?â
he whines indignantly, âwhy are we suddenly getting so personal,â but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. âif iâm honest, iâm sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.â
there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that heâs wrong. itâs just that knowing doesnât always stop him from feeling a certain way. âand of course, what iâm sorry for goes hand in hand with what iâm thankful for. but iâm also especially thankful for y/n,â he reveals.
your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.
âi havenât known you for as long as most of the other boys, but iâve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happyâyou make us happy.â
mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the youngerâs answer, âwhen iâm here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.â
a home that heâs never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.
âso thank you for giving me a home here,â mingi looks at you earnestly.
if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, âno matter how many years go by, youâll always have a home here.â
âand the rest of us?â yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.
âyou all have a home here,â you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.
you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each otherâs hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.
âyou know what we should do?â wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, âwe should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.â
âjustâŠstraight up scream?â hongjoong frowns.
a smile starts to spread across sanâs face as he understands wooyoungâs vision. âno, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,â san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.
seonghwa questions, âare we really doing this?â and yet he stands up as well.
âwhen will we ever get a chance to do this again?â
one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. itâs silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.
yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, âi want to become a famous choreographer!â
there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but itâs enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.
âi want my parents to accept that i wonât be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!â yeosang calls out.
mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, âi hope iâll win the lottery one day!â
you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?
reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.
thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.
taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.
and even though youâre all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, itâs the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.
youâve known johnny since you started attending namhaeâs provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. thereâll be a few times throughout the month that youâll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that youâll complete a group task together.
heâs easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunhoâs silly humour. you know for a fact as well that theyâre the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingiâs humour is just as questionable.
you and johnny arenât exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but youâre not exactly close either. so itâs a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)
initially, you tell him that youâre not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that heâs been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise itâs a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.
it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnnyâs efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and itâs not like johnny has done anything to suggest that heâs a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.
he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe thatâs about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, itâs the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.
johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. youâre not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering youâve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.
he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. itâs still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but youâre reminded of yeosangâs quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.
the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeksâ the sunâs out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterdayâs lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.
and when youâre not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can âsee your pretty faceâ. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.
johnnyâs laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. itâs boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you canât help but see jonghoâs own adorable giggles in him.
after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.
and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behindâŠor the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.
âwith all due disrespect, his parents donât fucking deserve to be parents,â wooyoung spits out.
yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingiâs heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the youngerâs hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.
âi donât think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things heâs told us about them over the last few years,â seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingiâs shoulders.
âbut for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?â
san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, âdo you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?â
âthat actually might be possible,â san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. âitâll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.â
âsheâs in for a few surprises,â jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. âhopefully you didnât scare her off after what you did.â
hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, âyeah, i hope i didnât fuck things up for all of us.â
âyou still havenât talked it out with her?â san looks up from his phone.
hongjoong grimaces, âno, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didnât happen.â
âand you just took her word for it? god, thatâs literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation thatâs utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,â wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. âi wouldnât be surprised if she says no to us after all.â
âlook, iâll talk to her when we see her again. the semesterâs nearly over, anyway.â
san nods, âmy parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this oneâitâs probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. letâs just hope we havenât missed our timing with this.â
thereâs only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingiâs sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that theyâll ask youâ be it yes or noâ it still wonât change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.
thereâs a man standing by your side, and itâs not one of them.
itâs strange to see you holding hands with someone that they donât know. of course, itâs inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course itâs inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.
the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when youâre curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliarâ oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside sanâs house and freeze.
you havenât told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadnât given them a heads up of some kind.
you slip your hand out of johnnyâs grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesnât comment on it. instead, he asks, âyou know them?â and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.
âyeah, theyâre my closest friends,â you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend themâ or yourself. âsanâs from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.â
âoh,â your boyfriend makes a noise, âitâs them.â
hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that youâve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the manâs arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.
âi was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first dayâŠi just wasnât expecting it to be today,â you gently place your hand on johnnyâs forearm. âthis is johnny, my boyfriend.â
immediately, the boys recognise his nameâ how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoongâs mind. if he had not pulled away that nightâ if he had kissed you instead of being a cowardâ would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?
and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoungâs teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.
youâre about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, âyou didnât tell me your friends were all guys.â his tone isnât accusatory, per se, but itâs definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.
seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, âand why does it matter to you?â
johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. âyouâll understand when you get a girlfriend,â he dismisses.
immediately, thereâs a palpable spike in tension. âsorry?â wooyoung scoffs.
san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoungâs neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriendâs nameâ respectively scruffing the two men. you didnât know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.
in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, âyou guys are here early this year.â
thereâs a beat of silence thatâs a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, âyeahâŠthings ended up this way.â
the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriendâs direction tells you that thereâs more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leavesâŠif he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.
even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that youâre not single anymoreâ that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they werenât supposed to see.
âdo you have classes today?â san dares to ask.
ânot today. we were justâŠout,â you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.
âwell, weâre headed for the beach,â san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, âdo you want to join us?â
looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isnât to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, âweâll join. itâll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like weâll be seeing each other often this summer.â
ânot if you donât show up,â wooyoung mutters under his breath, but heâs not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.
you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. âweâll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.â you donât wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.
âwait here,â you tell johnny, âiâll get you a spare pair of shorts,â then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.
you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship groupâ a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.
this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now youâre realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.
it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when youâre picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiarâ except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, itâs that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.
san canât help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like theyâve missed theirs.
heâs distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but thereâs an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunhoâs stomach thatâs telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.
regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into sanâs mouth each time he fallsâ no longer the graceful choreographer of the seaâ thereâs a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.
it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.
before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. âstrawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?â
youâre about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, âshe likes the chocolate ones.â
san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, âno, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering weâve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.â he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.
not backing down, johnny turns to ask, âis that true, babe?â
you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. âi like both,â you evade.
but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnnyâs frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, âi know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.â
âyou shouldâve told me,â johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.
san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.
âor maybe you shouldâve noticed,â he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriendâs direction before smiling tenderly at you. âiâll order your food. go find a seat with seongââ
johnnyâs voice is heated when he interjects, âno, you wonât. iâll pay for my girlfriendâs food.â
youâve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.
âitâs alright, san. thank you,â you give your friend a soft smile. âjohnnyâs got it for me.â
san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, âgo sit down. iâll bring our order over when itâs ready.â
on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. ây/n,â he starts.
you plaster on a smile, âitâs okay.â
seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesnât reach his eyes. âdo you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.â
grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, âwhy are you even dating him? i donât get what you see in him.â
he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. youâre distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that itâs a text from san.
sorry for putting you between your bf and i
you look up in surprise and find that heâs already gazing at you from where heâs waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that itâs okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situationâ with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesnât necessarily see eye to eye with.
your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications arenât from him. itâs johnny.
whatâs his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth
your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesnât seem to be referring to your texting exchange with sanâ you donât think heâs even noticed. instead, heâs still hooked on the ordering incident.
slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.
it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that theyâre not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and donât have with one another.
then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesnât mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you donât point it out.
and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like todayâ the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.
itâs not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but thereâs something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosangâs cheeks when heâs eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into sanâs side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingiâs entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoongâs eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.
maybe itâs because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, itâs easier to notice things when youâre watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but thereâs something more to their interactionsâ youâre sure of it. you just canât put your finger on what exactly.
itâs that thought that reminds you of yunhoâs words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. âwhat did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?â you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. âand wasnât there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?â
clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, âyeah, there is. justâmaybe talk to mingi first. youâll probably want to hear it directly from him.â
and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.
your heart sinks at yunhoâs words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingiâs parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.
âi know iâm hot but you donât have to make it that obvious,â he jokes.
you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. âcome sit outside with me for a bit?â you ask mingi.
he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of sanâs shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.
the two of you sit on the embankment just outside sanâs house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, âdid you want to ask me something?â
you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesnât stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.
âi asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,â you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, âis everything okay?â
he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. âi came out to my parents,â he reveals. âtold them iâm bi andâŠthey didnât take it well.â
mingi doesnât need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didnât just ânot take it wellâ. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. âoh, mingi,â you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.
âi also told them that iâm datiââ
the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. itâs yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. âyou might want to take this call,â he alerts you.
frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, âwho is it?â
he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. âyour boyfriend.â
youâre just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.
âoh, shit,â you canât help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.
seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on sanâs surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.
ây/n, iâm going to be honest with you,â he hesitates slightly. âi donât think heâs the right one for you.â
you know that yunhoâs looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but itâs not what you want toâ or need to hear right now. and perhaps, thereâs an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, âiâd know if heâs not.â
you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, âiâm sorry but i should probably call him back. weâll talk later, yeah?â
mingi doesnât know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.
âguess he takes priority over us now,â mingi sighs.
san looks at him bittersweetly, âthatâs what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunhoâs. in fact, youâre the priority of five other people as well.â despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingiâs nose affectionately as he fondly states, âarenât you lucky.â
mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, ânow come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?â
the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, âyou distract him while i cheat?â
âiâm right here,â yunho protests, but heâs shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.
san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of sanâs priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is sanâs priority, as is the happiness of the others.
but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriendâ and by association, youâ becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worseâŠcompletely out of his heart?
youâre just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that heâs displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but youâre not exactly happy with him right now either.
you know an argumentâs brewingâ one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until itâs too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.
âwhy did you call me so many times?â
johnny knows youâre not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.
âi didnât know where you were,â he halfheartedly answers. âi thought something had happened.â
you both know itâs a lieâ a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at sanâs. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.
âi donât like the way they look at you,â johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. âespecially san.â
you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where youâre coming from, too. âwe grew up together, johnny. weâre each otherâs best friend and he doesnât like me like that.â
warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. ânone of them do,â you emphasise. âand iâve been transparent about hanging out with them when youâre not there, havenât i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.â
he hesitates, âi was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didnât reply or answer my callsâŠâ the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.
âand i was busy with my friends, too,â you reason. âyouâre not glued to your phone, and neither am i.â
you continue when he stays silent, âyouâre my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that theyâre my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when iâm with them, but iâll also try to make sure iâm reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.â
you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that heâs disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you canât tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.
when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, âi love you.â
you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimesâ
âi know,â you reply gently, before shutting the door.
âyou learn even more about a person simply from the things that they donât say.
itâs two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.
with autumn just around the corner, youâre spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents arenât in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.
and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and sanâs houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.
a smirk graces johnnyâs lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafeâs terrace. itâs not clearly audible, but itâs definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, âfuckinâ pussies.â
wooyoung immediately reacts. âwhat the fuck did you just say?â he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.
johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, âi wasnât talking to you guys, but i guess if youâre offendedââ
itâs hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. âyou say one more fucking word,â he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.
âand youâll what,â johnny sneers, ârun to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?â
at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. âwatch what you say,â san looks at him dangerously. âdonât bring y/n into this.â
the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.
johnny steps closer and scoffs, âthatâs bullshit. you guys canât even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when sheâs with you guys.â
âand i bet itâs never fucking crossed your mind that maybe itâs an issue with something youâre doingânot us,â wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.
heâs suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnnyâs friends step in as well.
âlook at you, all riled up,â johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. âand she tells me that you donât all want to fuck her?â
seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriendâs face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesnât get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when thereâs a firm shout over the commotion.
the cafe manager harshly warns, âweâre going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise weâre going to call the police.â
âwooyoung! hongjoong!â seonghwa hisses. âitâs not worth the trouble. stop!â
there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.
âyou bitches got lucky this time,â johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.
the manager nods wryly, âyou and your friends are still going to have to leave.â
âwe understand,â seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. âweâre truly sorry.â
as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. âletâs go home,â he declares, âwe can wait there.â
they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. theyâre only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, âso whoâs gonna tell y/n that her boyfriendâs a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?â he fumes. âbecause if no oneâs going to do it, then iâm going to tell her the moment we get home.â
âwooyoung,â seonghwa starts.
âno, donât wooyoung me,â he snaps. âheâs a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i donât even care if we donât ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.â
seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, âlook, i agree with you and iâm not saying we shouldnât tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.â
âi think sheâs going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,â hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.
âthe campfire night is only a few days away,â yeosang points out. âmaybe we should wait until thatâs overâŠyou know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.â
hongjoong protests, âand wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.â
âsurely sheâs not going to bring him. itâs a day just for us,â yeosang frowns.
san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. âi donât know, probably not?â he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. âbut honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i donât see the point in ruining it for any more of us.â
seonghwa agrees and adds on, âand only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, youâre probably the best person out of us.â
san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. âiâll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,â he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, âwe wait.â
thereâs only a few more days until the campfireâ they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?
âare you sure itâs a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?â
seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosangâs lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, âheâs hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.â seonghwa knows hongjoongâs way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he wonât prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.
you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this timeâ only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. itâs been a while since youâve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.
looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, âletâs get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.â
hongjoong cocks his head, âhaneulâs coming?â
â...no,â you look at him carefully, âjohnny is.â
âjohnny? youâre joking.â
you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, âheâs my boyfriend, hongjoong.â johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you werenât about to tell him no.
âand heâs also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?â
you know your boyfriend and your friends still arenât on amicable terms, but youâre honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you canât help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.
âasshole or not, at least heâs honest about his feelings for me,â you retort pointedly.
âoh?â hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, âis that what this is about?â
you challenge him with a glare, âwhat do you think iâm implying?â
âso iâm the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?â
your jaw drops. âyou know what? what the fuck is your problem?â you shove his chest in anger. âletâs not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least iâm willing to admit it.â
you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, âwhat about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.â
hongjoong grits his teeth, âyouâre making a mistake dating him.â
âyeah, you would know something about mistakes,â you throw back sarcastically. âbut then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.â
âdonât fucking put words into my mouth,â he warns.
âit seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship itâs radio silence for a year.â
hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, âi was going to talk to you about it face to face.â
âwhatever, hongjoong. itâs too late,â you brush him off.
you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.
hours later, mingi scans the room from where heâs perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outsideâ everyone except for one.
âwhereâs hongjoong?â he asks nobody in particular. he doesnât think heâs seen the other since theyâve all come back from the grocery store.
âheâs resting in my room,â san answers. âsaid he wasnât feeling too well but heâll join us later.â
you roll your eyes at the knives youâre counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesnât say either, though, is that he knows something is offâ hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.
thereâs an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, âiâll get it.â you know itâs probably johnny so you donât bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, âyou look nice today.â
your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. heâs dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, âwanted to look good.â
you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoongâs uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.
âyou invited johnny?â sanâs question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.
your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, âyes, san. i invited my boyfriend.â
âand why the fuck did you do that?â
sanâs swearing has you reeling in surprise, but itâs quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, âweâve put up with him for long enough, donât you think? itâs one thing for you to date him of all people, but itâs another thing to bring him to this.â
you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. âso you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i canât bring my own boyfriend?â you retort.
the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunhoâs eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, âokay, i think we all need toââ
âwhoever the fuckâare we just âwhoeverâ to you?â wooyoung harshly interrupts. âweâve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?â
you know that you wonât be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, âi didnât ask any of you to look out for me.â
yunhoâs arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoungâs words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, âyou know, y/n. we needed this trip this summerâŠmore than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.â then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.
one by one, the boys follow him out of your houseâ first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince.Â
mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. heâs filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. âi guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,â he chokes out.
your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, âmingi, thatâs notââ
but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your houseâ now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surfaceâ you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out sanâs name. what for, you donât know, but your cry is timid and desperate.
as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs himâ his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.
you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and youâre still in the clothes from last night that you donât recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.
you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, youâre hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadnât tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.
you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. youâll clean everything up when youâre feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.
itâs a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a whileâŠ
you tap on jonghoâs notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, becauseâ
hey, wasnât sure if youâd want to know or not but i think weâre going back to seoul in the morning
the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that itâs already eleven thirty, and thatâs when you hear itâ the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.
a brief flash of relief flickers across jonghoâs face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.
every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. itâs only thursday today and summer doesnât end for another three days, and yetâ
âyou guys are leaving?â you ask apprehensively.
nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.
jongho clears his throat awkwardly, âyeah, weâre heading back early.â
âohâŠâ youâre at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. âdrive safe.â
like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and youâre also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.
as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nodâ anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.
you hesitantly ask him, âiâll see you next summer?â
san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, âdonât count on it,â and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.
as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesnât see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that youâve made your decision and heâs made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day youâll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that youâll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.
before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, âi think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?â
you nod numbly at his words. youâre forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as sanâs jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.
âtheyâre finally leaving, huh.â
thereâs only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, ânot now, johnny.â
âyou honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,â he comments.
âi said not now,â you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.
âi shouldâve just punched them when i had the chance to.â
you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, âjohnny!â
âwhat?â he scowls. âthey were the ones who started it.â
you grow deathly still. âstarted what?â you interrogate, and when he doesnât let up, you step in closer. âjohnny?â
âlook, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fuckerâwooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. heâs lucky i let him off the hook,â he sneers.
youâve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriendâs recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.
âdonât you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,â you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?
âare you fucking serious right now?â johnny spits in your face, âyouâre defending them? you always take their fucking side even though iâm your boyfriend.â
you spit right back, âand you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.â
johnnyâs expression drops entirely. âare you breaking up with me right now?â
âyes, i am.â you confirm. âweâre over.â
you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you donât bother trying to hold back your cries.
all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.
you want to seek out one of the boys for comfortâ seonghwa or sanâ but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that thatâs no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but itâs much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.
in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, itâs you against the worldâŠand the eight of them.
haneul takes all but one look at you before sheâs making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that thereâs no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.
the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, âsan messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.â
you slouch in on yourself, âwe fought.â
as surprising as it is to hear, since sheâs never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brotherâs vague reasons. she probes, âabout what?â
you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.
haneulâs quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. âdid they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?â she finally questions.
you shake your head and she asks, âthen did you try talking to them about it?â
you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didnât think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.
âwhat do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reasonâor did the criticism from the boys just become too much?
fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. âhe was a decent guyâŠup until summer and the boys came over. thatâs when he started acting differently and,â you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, âbecame an asshole.â
she nods, waiting as you elaborate, âhe became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasnât present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.â
the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. ây/n,â she stares at you seriously. âare you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?â
her question stuns you because itâs quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, âthink about it before you answer me.â
you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnnyâŠyou had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.
but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. thereâs a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, âthe argument.â
she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, âi think so too.â
promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, âwhat am i going to do without them?â
âcome here,â she whispers.
she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you donât know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesnât let go of youâ not until you make the first move to pull away.
haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, ây/n, i think thereâs more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like youâve lost your closest friends.â
your throat is scratchy when you mumble, âwhat do you mean?â
âi canât tell you because thatâs something that youâre going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think youâve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.â
you know sheâs right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. âwhat if they donât answer my messages or calls? what if they really donât come back next summer?â what if they hate me forever?
haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, âif they take a step back, then why donât you take two steps forward?â
her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, âyou meanâŠâ
âyes, y/n,â haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.
âgo to seoul and talk to them.â
summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.
in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneulâs arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that youâll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to sanâ a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fineâ that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.
the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.
youâve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jonghoâs birthday. youâre unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.
currently, the text cursor in jonghoâs chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once moreâ itâs now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. itâs a simple message; only reading two lines.
happy birthday jongho how have you been?
really, you mean âhow have you all been?â because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.
you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you donât care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messagesâ that is, if any come at all. but jonghoâs last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isnât entirely lost.
the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, thereâs a reply waiting for you.
thanks y/n, iâve been good
itâs simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.
i miss you
really, jongho means âwe all miss youâ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.
his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.
can we call?
your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. thereâs a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you donât know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.
the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, âhello?â
âhello?â comes jonghoâs reply.
your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, âcan you hear meââ âhiâyes, can you hear me?â
âyeah, i can hear you too, hi,â you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.
the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jonghoâs happiness. youâre reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping handsâ the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?
âthank you for replying to my message, jongho,â your voice is unsteady.
he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, âno, thank you for reaching out first.â and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. âsorry i didnât do it firstâŠit must have been hard for you all this time.â
and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesnât matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you donât have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesnât matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he canât hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that youâre both talking again.
as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time itâs only with jongho.
âwhat about you? have you been busy?â
you nod, even though he canât see you over the call, âiâm trying to keep up with classes but itâs hard with all the assignments due soon.â
âyeah, i have another huge film project and itâs taking up all of my time, too,â he exhales, then tentatively asks, âwhat aboutâŠhowâre things with johnny?â
itâs strangely exciting to clarify, âwe actually broke up a few months ago.â
you can hear jonghoâs sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoungâs nosiness as jongho asks, âplease tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.â
âyes, i broke up with him,â you chuckle. âhe talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.â
âhe deserved it,â he gleefully states.
âonly i get to mess with my friendsâŠliterally.â
the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.
âitâs actually sort of funny you say that,â jongho muses over the phone. âremember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?â
you hum in affirmation, âsan and i picked love.â
âand look at you, picking us over johnny,â he teases.
huffily, you banter, âpicked you guys even though you all left me.â
thereâs the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but itâs cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, âhey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.â
you resist the urge to ask why heâs even there in the first place, but you just tell him that itâs okay, considering how late the time is anyway.
âiâll talk to you tomorrow?â
âyeah, tomorrow,â you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then thereâs a voice in the background asking, âis that y/n?â
but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you donât let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jonghoâs last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenagerâ tomorrow feels too far away.
but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only itâs not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?
it makes sense at first to think thatâs what has happened, but youâre suddenly reminded of haneulâs wordsâ that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that meansâŠthe heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first lovesâ because you are in love with all of them.
that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be containedâ itâs time for you to talk to them.
you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, âi need your helpâ.
and the reply is immediate.
anything you need
itâs the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.
you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you donât plan on staying for long so you didnât bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. thereâs a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jonghoâs familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.
the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think youâre able to make out jonghoâs side profile leaning against a brick wall.
except, heâs not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, heâs the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.
ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.
seonghwaâs eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.
âiâm sorry, hwaâ you murmur.
âi know,â he whispers, stroking the back of your head, âme too.â
jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwaâs cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to sayâ poems of apologies and ballads of confessionsâ for now, this is more than enough.
seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. âhang on, are you and johnny stillâŠâ he trails off.
despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, youâre touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. âdonât worry, we broke up,â you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. âyou told him i was coming up to seoul, but didnât tell him that johnnyâs my ex now?â
he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, âthat wasnât in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.â
said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, âwhat was he doing in your dorm anyway?â
âhe crashed for the night. our dormâs close to his workplace.â
when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.
âthanks, hwa,â you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.
âgreat, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and iâve already become the third wheel,â jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.
despite the huffiness in his voice, jonghoâs heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheelâ even the ninth wheelâ if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.
âready to go?â jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.
are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; youâre not going into this alone anymore. you nod, âiâm ready.â
the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, youâre standing right outside the door to jonghoâs shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.
you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intrudingâ which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here donât know that youâre in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so itâs fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.
you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosangâs faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoongâs bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.
âholy shit,â yunho whispers.
thatâs enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, âwhat the fuck is she doing here?â
wooyoung looks at jongho, âis this why you told everyone to come over?â
you defend, âi was the one who asked jongho for help.â
âi wasnât talking to youââ
you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, âcan you just shut the fuck up for once? iâm not here to start another fight. justâhear me out, please. iâll leave as soon as i say what i need to.â
he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.
you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. youâve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. âiâŠiâm sorry,â you start.
somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. âiâm sorry for being such an asshole over the summerâfor letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasnât a good guy. i shouldnât have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.
âin particular, iâm sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesnât excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said canât be taken back, even if i didnât mean them.â
nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.
even if he isnât looking, you apologise to him directly, âmingi, iâm sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for youâfor all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didnât feel that wayâŠbecause of me. i mean it when i say youâll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, youâll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.â
you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what youâre going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you donât have to see their expressions. âitâs taken this fightâalmost losing all of youâand breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friendsâŠbut you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and âwhoeverâ. i think iâm in love with all of you and i know itâs unconventional, butâŠi guess love has no limits.
âbut iâm also going to be honest. iâm still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasnât your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.
âi donât expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i donât expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelingsâŠif you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again orâŠmaybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.â
thereâs half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one anotherâ be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.
âyouâre leaving already? where are you going?â yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.
âback to namhae,â you explain. âi booked a return ticket for the same day.â
san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. âyou came all the way hereâŠjust to talk to us for half an hour?â
you give him a bittersweet smile, âthatâs how important this is to meâhow important you all are to me.â
he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.
âwait,â yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. âhere.â
he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and youâre starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.
youâre accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when youâre in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.
you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.
a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.
youâve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you havenât been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale hasâ or will tip.
so you donât walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, thereâs something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. youâre doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.
that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like heâs fourteen again, knocking on yunhoâs door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that itâs his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingiâs nervous because itâs you and heâs nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.
youâre greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise itâs mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks goodâ a little too goodâ and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. youâre down bad, and itâs only been ten seconds since youâve laid eyes on him since seoul.
mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, âcome surf with us?â
the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if youâve somehow missed the memo that heâs forgiven you. âyouâre all okay with me coming?â you blink confusedly.
âthe others can speak for themselves,â he puts it plainly, but then smiles, âi want you to come, though. itâs not the same without you. plus,â his voice mellows out earnestly, âsomeoneâs gotta welcome me home, donât you think?â
home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.
shyly, you return his smile, âiâll go get changed, then?â
âis that an invite inside?â mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.
he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. âtake your time,â he reassures. âiâll wait for you.â
and he does, just so that you donât have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined himâ you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.
âwhat if itâs too late?â yunho asks.
âyou donât know that, not until you try,â mingi replies. âhere, a kiss for good luck.â
you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, youâve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you canât say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now youâre suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.
but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.
for the second time of the day, youâre absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because heâs also wearing a black tank top much like mingiâs, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.
not that youâre complaining. but itâs also very distracting when youâre trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.
âyou guys go ahead, i think jonghoâs calling for me,â mingi suddenly announces before darting off.
youâre left alone with yunho, and from the back of jonghoâs head who most definitely doesnât even know you three have joined the group, mingiâs plan to slip away has succeeded.
âum,â yunho hesitantly starts, âdo you want to try paddling out on my board? iâll stay close.â
the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although youâre not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things donât need to be spelt outâ the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.
as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.
âhere,â yunho says, garnering your attention.
he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that youâre not really trying to paddle and heâs not really watching for mistakes.
eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunhoâs arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.
it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each otherâs presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.
from afar, wooyoungâs internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands trueâ you make the boys happy and itâs obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.
the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.
and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same againâ summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san andâ
yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadnât initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. youâre unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, âwhereâs hongjoong?â
yunhoâs eyes donât meet yours and wooyoungâs mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, âhe didnât come.â
san likes to think that heâs patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.
but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you heâs forgiven you and that heâs sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.
but his body is acting as if itâs an entirely separate entity from his heart. heâs unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and itâs as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attemptsâ or lack thereofâ because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.
a quick look at his phone tells san that heâs been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.
thereâs a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. youâre sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. thereâs a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.
you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneulâs room. tension doesnât exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san andâŠavoidance with hongjoong.
âcouldnât sleep?â you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.
san shakes his head, âyou?â
âgot thirsty,â you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.
he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. itâs only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why youâre not making a move to get waterâ heâs still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.
âthanks, sannie.â
it doesnât register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, âyouâre welcome, pipsqueak.â
it tugs a smile out of your lips. âhavenât heard that in a while,â you muse. âkind of miss it.â
and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. âiâm sorry, y/n,â he whispers. âi know how badly i hurt you.â
the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. âiâll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasnât one of usâwasnât me, because it didnât look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.â
you acknowledge sadly, âseonghwa told me what happened. iâm sorry he was like that.â
âthatâs not on you to apologise,â san refutes. âi was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.â
âi guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both werenât aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,â you chuckle wryly.
his voice wavers, âiâm meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and iâm so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.â
you canât help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, âare you calling my ex the problem?â
âexactly that,â he deadpans. âwe all did.â
you nod, âthank you for trying to let me know, even when i didnât listen.â
âno, iâm sorry we didnât explain ourselves more clearlyâor earlier.â
âbut you have now, and i understand,â you reassure.
he nods gratefully before hesitating, âthereâs something else behind all this that i canât tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things areâŠokay with hongjoong again, thatâs when weâll tell you.â
something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so farâ your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.
perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you donât dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust himâ because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.
âthen are we okay now?â you ask, needing the confirmation.
âyeah,â he smiles breathlessly, âmore than okay.â
the caverns of sanâs dimplesâ the ones you love so muchâ shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.
san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he canât, not yet. not until youâve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until youâve had a talk togetherâ all nine of you.
he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneulâs bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, âlet me tuck you back into bed.â
and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.
your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoongâs face.
when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?
âoh shit,â you curse, when it registers in your brain.
hongjoong is here and youâve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boysâ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.
âsure, why donât you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,â hongjoong scowls.
immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, âwell, if youâre offeringâŠâ
âoh, fuck off,â he raises his middle finger at you.
you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, âyeah, back into my house that youâre standing in front of.â
âfor godâs sakeâkim hongjoong!â seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of sanâs door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesnât happen. âyouâre here to apologise!â
hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, âcan i come in?â
âdepends,â you cross your arms defiantly. âare you going to try and kick me out?â
despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if thereâs no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to haveâ before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.
âgeez! okay!â you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.
you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. itâs awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that youâre alone. âi didnât think you would come,â you break the silence.
he hums softly, âme neither.â
you donât know how to respond so you donât, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, âi wasâam ashamed of myself.â
youâve been there beforeâ on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.
âiâve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and iâve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didnât talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your exâŠwhy i didnât just kiss you.â
you canât help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.
hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, âi did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldnât have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didnât think my apology would be good enough. so iâm sorry for all the things i said and did, but iâm also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.â
he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, âwill you forgive me?â
thereâs not a moment of hesitation before youâre closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, âi forgive you. there are a lot of things iâm ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and thatâs what helps us to grow.â
âyou still like me?â he mumbles into your neck.
you laugh at the ticklish feeling, âvery much so, hongjoong.â because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.
only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, youâre suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still donât know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peaceâ the nine of you against the world once more.
âletâs go find the rest of the boys?â you ask.
he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, âletâs go.â
just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, âwhy are these here?â
you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sitâ the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. âyou know who they belong to?â
âyeah,â he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. âi bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.â
it was san who hid them in your coat.
you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their sideâ an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost donât want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.
and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.
once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that thatâs exactly the reasonâ no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.
itâs why yunho knocks his forehead against mingiâs just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. itâs why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if heâs just as strong, and itâs why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.
but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they donât seem to be simply âpaired offâ. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when heâs tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each otherâs company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoongâs ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.
rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isnât with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because itâs much harder to tell what kind of love theyâre giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.
san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides itâs time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosangâs jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.
âokay, so whoâs telling her?â yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latterâs lips.
âwhat? how else are we meant to start the conversation?â wooyoung complains before mocking, âthe reason i have gathered you all here todayââ
rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, âare you all dating each other?â
wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.
âhowâd you know?â yeosang startles.
seonghwa agrees, âi didnât think we were that obvious,â but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, heâs quick to amend, âokay, maybe we were.â
san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, âweâve been dating each other for just over a year nowâso before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but weâre happy like this.â
âonce our relationship had settled down a little, thatâs when i came out to my parents,â mingi adds, âwhich didnât go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, butâŠother things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.â
yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, âitâs long overdue, but weâre telling you now.â
the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. âiâm happy for you guys,â you affirm sincerely. âi donât think thereâs anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.â
you truly do. youâre thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it mustâve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then youâre reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?
said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. âwhy does it sound like youâre just wishing us well?â
âam i not allowed to do that as your friend?â you mirror his expression.
âgod,â hongjoong exhales. âdo you think weâre telling you this just to reject you?â
âof all people to say thatârub it in my face, why donât you,â you grumble.
he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, âwait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?â
the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.
âyou confessedââ ââi thought we agreed to confess togetherââ ââtrust you to cut in line! thatâs not fair!â
your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoongâs direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.
âhold the fuck up,â you yell over the commotion. âconfess what?â
âhow did you figure out that weâre in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?â yeosang judges you.
âi didnât want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i justâŠâ
âassumed we didnât have feelings for you,â seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.
wooyoung deadpans, âwe may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.â
âall of you?â you ask in disbelief.
âall of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,â mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.
âyouâre one to talk about hiding your feelings,â hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, âmingi wouldnât shut up about you after he met you.â
mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.
âlook,â jongho cuts in, âwhat weâre trying to say is that weâve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then weâd like to take our relationship with you to the next step.â
how many times have you wanted this momentâ for all of them to return your confession. but now that itâs actually becoming a reality, itâs honestly a little daunting. âyouâre all serious about this?â
a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.
yunho answers on everyoneâs behalf, âweâre very serious.â
you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazesâ that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.
it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, ây/n, will you be our girlfriend?â
like san once said, itâs hard to find friends you love, but itâs even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and youâve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decideâ so you make your choice.
âi forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?â san pokes his head in through the doorway.
you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, âdonât count on it.â
sanâs pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, âyouâre never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?â but he canât hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.
âhongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung canât step away just yet. but theyâll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.â
as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. âitâs so hard to align everyoneâs schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,â you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of sanâs hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.
âme too, love,â another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle sanâs hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. âbut we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.â
seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what youâre used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.
you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, âwe could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.â
âwell can you really blame us for being madly in love,â seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.
âthatâs true. your beds are always warmer than mine,â you agree.
âexactly. now come on, are you ready to go?â
the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybodyâs clothes separate once youâd all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.
as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, âwooyoung?â
his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, âhongjoong? i thought you two werenât coming until next week?â
wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. âwe caught up with the schedule,â he exclaims happily. âyou shouldâve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.â
you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug youâre in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, âdid you miss me?â
forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, âwhy didnât i get a kiss?â so san pulls him in for one to appease him. youâd never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.
one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and sanâs old home. so it doesnât take long to carry your surfboardsâ save for you; the boys like it when you use theirsâ and towels down to the shore.
you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. itâs a bittersweet emotion, knowing that itâs already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.
some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. youâve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that youâre allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.
san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so itâs very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)
youâre content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in insteadâ and fails miserablyâ all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up.Â
âit wasnât me!â the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingiâs neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.
not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.
you donât think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.
on this dayâ the last day of summer in namhaeâ you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesnât matter to you, not anymore.
the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.