Chapter Text
“Come on! Did you forget how to hold the stick? Why do you keep dropping it?” Seonghwa’s booming voice could be heard from across the rink, words filling into Wooyoung’s ears like worms. “Isn’t the point of this sport to use the stick to get the pucks into the net? You’re using your feet!”
No, he wasn’t the one being spoken to, but it sure damn felt like it.
Seonghwa had caught Minjae, one of the new freshman, drop his stick down in the middle of a play and stumble across the ice, messing up the rest of the team. Seonghwa was supposed to watch Yechan on offense, keeping him off Hongjoong, while passing the puck to Wooyoung to allow for a clear view of the goalpost.
Long story short, Wooyoung was standing alone, watching the poor freshman do twenty pushups on the ice at the request of Seonghwa.
Watching them made him feel a little better, as Wooyoung could relish in relief that he was no longer the one being scolded, but it did hurt his heart to witness. If their damn players couldn’t even hold onto their sticks, what did that mean for the upcoming games? Would they fail before they could even get a chance? Wooyoung wasn’t the only one out there who had to stay up to par; it was a team effort. Maybe his energy should match Seonghwa’s, and he should focus more on keeping the freshman in check than worrying about himself. It seemed easier that way.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Hongjoong shuffled the two around, announcing for Minjae to stand up. No, it wasn’t entirely ethical for the older members to force the newer ones to do pushups right there on the ice, but that never stopped anyone. “It’s nearing the end of practice anyways, why don’t we just call it quits?”
Seonghwa skated up, knocking on Hongjoong’s helmet with a laugh, “Quits? Who do you think you are, the coach?”
The rest of the team let out a small cackle, always delighted by Seonghwa’s small quips towards their captain. With him being the only one older than Hongjoong, he was allowed to offer jabs, to which the team greatly benefitted from.
Alas, their actual coach was probably busy knocking on the vending machine for another bag of chips. He wasn’t the one on the ice, bossing them around. Hongjoong was the best they got, at times. Something about budget cuts.
The thing was, Wooyoung didn’t want to leave the rink early, as that would minimize their time on the ice. Every minute mattered. Not only would ending practice cut back on possible improvement but he’d be forced to interact with a certain figure skater all the sooner, one who was definitely still waiting in the lobby. Wooyoung wanted to put that off for as long as possible after he nearly embarrassed himself earlier that day.
It was funny to think that Wooyoung had been wearing figure skates throughout the entire practice, yet not a single teammate had noticed. He’d take that as a win. Maybe it was better to get off early, so he could return the skates as soon as possible and pretend nothing happened.
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa, forcing his helmet back into place, “I am in charge of you when the coach is busy knocking on the vending machine, begging for them to restock the chips.”
Wooyoung snickered. Called it.
“Very insightful.” Seonghwa nodded. “Thank you for your contribution, sir.”
That comment earned Seonghwa a whack on the chest before Hongjoong straightened himself out, returning his attention to the rest of the team, “So, I think we’ll call it quits for now. Everyone rest up, take it easy on your day off, and I’ll see you all here bright and early Thursday morning!” He announced, clapping his hands together.
A few faces looked confused while others cheered, but Wooyoung was busy staring off into space, debating what his next step should be. Should he just leave the skates on a bench somewhere in hopes that San would see them, eliminating that interaction altogether? There was a good chance he wouldn’t, but it would spare Wooyoung the embarrassment.
No. He couldn’t do that, not when San was nice enough to lend them in the first place. Wooyoung still had some sense of self left. He wasn’t a terrible person.
He let out a sigh, slowly making his way off the ice. Other members were too busy conversing and talking about the latest practice hits to notice Wooyoung’s sudden silence. It wasn’t as if he spoke much to begin with, not since the semester started, but his end-of-practice mutters had disappeared, too busy trying to figure out the next step.
Hongjoong slid up behind him just seconds before he stepped off the rink, patting him on the back, “Nice hits today, Jung!”
“Really?” Wooyoung blinked back, brightened by the sudden praise.
“Yeah! You had your head in the game, I could tell you were really giving it your all.”
“Oh, thanks,” He forced a small smile, acknowledging the remark. He had felt off throughout the entire practice, but if others thought he was doing well, that was all that mattered.
In the end, it didn’t really matter what went on in his head, so long as he offered a suitable performance.
Wooyoung had a little more pep in his step as he exited the rink once and for all, eyes peeled for a certain figure skater. San couldn’t have gone far, given that Wooyoung was holding his precious skates, so it shouldn’t be a difficult task to find him. After putting his tennis shoes back on, Wooyoung stepped into the locker room and began to look around.
Sure enough, standing by the bleachers was San, busy fumbling with his gloves.
Clearing his throat, Wooyoung approached, making his presence known. “Hey.”
San’s head flicked right to him, eyes lighting up, “Oh, hey, Wooyoung. Did the skates work well?”
With one quick glance to make sure nobody was listening in, Wooyoung replied. “Yep. They were a little harder to get used to, and they were just slightly big, but they worked just fine,” He shrugged. Truthfully, they were difficult to practice in, but it was better than nothing. Another reminder for Wooyoung to never forget them again. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” San nodded, happily accepting them in return.
As he brushed off the edges, investigating the exterior of his beloved skates, Wooyoung stood still, unsure of what the next step was. He wanted to step away and run to the bus as quickly as he could, toppling under his covers in just seconds flat, but there was something keeping him stuck in that spot. Perhaps he felt he owed San, something more than a quick acknowledgment.
For far too long, he stood awkwardly, noticing the rest of the team had already left. Maybe it was better that way, to speak with San in a world alone. He’d be safe from any snide comments or offhand remarks. He tried to keep himself occupied with the wall of lockers, but there was a burning in the back of his mind that was eager to talk to San. He couldn’t quite figure out the reason.
“Is everything going alright?” San was the one to speak next, bringing his attention back.
“Huh?” Wooyoung blinked in confusion.
“With your practices, I mean. Are they going well?”
“Oh,” He said, realizing that San wasn’t there for a quick therapy session. Given the chance, Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he’d choose to keep the thoughts in his head to himself or not. At what point did they become too much to bear alone? “Yeah. I guess there’s a lot of progress to be made, but overall, it’s going pretty well.”
“Good,” San replied with a nod, “Hopefully the team can do well in the upcoming games. Well, I’m going to go get ready, and probably readjust these skates some. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yeah. See you.” Wooyoung said, a small grin forming on his face. At times, San was nice, providing that small amount of kindness that Wooyoung needed in his life. It was a relief that there were still some kind souls out there, different from the many athletes he often surrounded himself with.
The conversation was deemed over when Wooyoung began to step away, mind lost enough to head straight for the exit, forgetting to stop at his own locker entirely.
“Wooyoung?” San called back.
He turned around, blinking.
“You forgot your bag. And… everything else, I think,” He motioned over to the other side of the locker room.
Wooyoung let a sigh fall from his mouth, “Right, thanks,” He mumbled, slugging over to his locker. A few seconds later, Wooyoung would have left the rink with nothing but his hockey uniform. He should invest in a checklist. Then again, it was hard to account for the times a certain figure skater would show up in his life, taking over every last corner of his mind.
He had to consider at some point, if he was forgetting everything on his own or if he was forgetful because San was always there, in his life.
That was a conversation for another day. Wooyoung paid no mind to anyone else left in the locker room as he focused on changing, grabbing his belongings, and running to catch the bus. With a quick goodbye to the staff, Wooyoung passed by the window into the ice rink, noticing the figure skaters beginning to warm up.
He’d never paid them much mind, never feeling the need to tune in to a sport he wasn’t a part of, but there was something that drew him in. Wooyoung spent a few seconds observing. Every skater was graceful on the ice, flying through the air with ease, spinning, twirling, and posing for the figurative audience. Wooyoung caught the eye of San, but looked away before he could take note of his activities.
It seemed like spying to watch in on him; like it was a part of San’s life he’d yet to unlock, exclusive only to acquaintances, something Wooyoung could hardly be considered.
It wasn’t as if he had a right to feel somber on that topic. Wooyoung was the one pushing away San’s obvious efforts to engage for reasons he couldn’t quite distinguish.
He let out a sigh, walking out of the rink. There was simply no time in his schedule to worry about Choi San.
-
“You know, I think it’d be helpful if you’d at least study a little, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said, pulling up a plastic chair next to him at the dining hall table, “Just because we’re here on a scholarship doesn’t mean you have to slack.”
Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. Of course, Hongjoong would find him at his lowest, numbly nibbling on a chicken tender while glaring at a blank assignment. One that was due three days ago, yet he’d just opened it for the first time. It was a record, honesty, as past assignments were generally turned in no less than a week late.
He paid him no to the arrival of the captain, still trying to make sense of the math assignment, “What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on my players, obviously,” Hongjoong offered him a small nudge, placing down a suitable meal of his own. “And this is the dining hall. I’m here to eat, dumbass.”
There was the Hongjoong he knew and loved. Wooyoung let out a small laugh, saved from the next hour of tortuous numbers. “I’m just thinking, really. It’s hard to give a sh*t about economics when my brain is fried.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re thinking about hockey and the upcoming games, right?”
“Yep,” He nodded. It was hard to deny when there was hardly anything else that would be on his mind. Wooyoung wasn’t exactly versatile in his interests.
“Everything is going to work out just fine, trust me,” Hongjoong worked to reassure, offering him a pat on the back, “It always has in the past, and it will now. I doubt the team will struggle will all these great new freshman! Take your education seriously sometimes, yeah?”
“I’ll try,” Wooyoung replied with a nod, though he knew that was a loose promise. Even if he did give schoolwork his undivided attention, economics still wouldn’t make any sense. It was a lose-lose situation.
“And,” Hongjoong began, reaching forward to grasp Wooyoung’s hand, “I’m here for you when you need me, or whatever..”
Wooyoung had to smile at Hongjoong’s visible hesitation from the action. Leave it to hockey boys to find difficulty expressing their emotions. But he supposed he was no different from the rest. “Thanks. Any reason for that?”
“You’ve been quiet recently, that’s all.”
“I guess. There’s just lots on my mind.”
“Like… how you were wearing Choi’s skates yesterday,” Hongjoong said, raising an eyebrow.
Wooyoung felt his ears heat up with embarrassment as he brought his attention back to his plate. So much for thinking he was slick, “How could you tell?”
“Seriously? Because I know what figure skates look like. They’re a completely different color and shape, dumbass.”
f*ck. He had a point. If Hongjoong noticed, it was likely others did. “Well, yeah. I forgot mine, so I asked to borrow his while he was waiting for his practice to start.”
“That’s nice. Of him, I mean,” Hongjoong hummed before digging into his food, solidifying the idea that he intended to sit with Wooyoung for the entire duration of their meal.
“Yeah,” Wooyoung shrugged. A nice gesture at that. If someone asked Wooyoung to borrow his skates, he might have rolled his eyes and offered a middle finger. Depended on the day, “He is pretty nice, I guess.”
Hongjoong nodded, “San is a good guy! I like all of the figure skaters when they come early and hang around. At times, they’re a hell of a lot nicer than you guys.”
“You can say that again,” Wooyoung replied. He wasn’t afraid to admit that.
“I’ll say it as many times as needed. But, I wouldn’t trade you guys for the world, even if some personalities do need to be kept in line.” He let out a small groan, shaking his head.
“Are you talking about me?”
“If I was talking about you, you’d know,” Hongjoong said with a wink, reaching forward to pat Wooyoung on the shoulder. “Keep your head in the game, Jung. You’re one of our best players. We need you around, you got that?”
Wooyoung smiled, happy from the compliment, “You just told me to focus on school, now you’re telling me to keep my head in the game! Which is it?”
“What, you can’t multitask?”
-
The pep talk with Hongjoong didn’t change the fact that his assignments were still blank. At some point, he’d have to assess and deal with that accordingly, but the semester was still just starting. Wooyoung still had some time. Around the midway point of the semester, he could focus on his worries about school. Then, the hockey league will have hit a steady medium and those first-week jitters wouldn’t affect him any longer.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself. Perhaps the more he tried to convince his mind of that fact, the more plausible the outcome would be. If it even worked that way. Wooyoung didn’t know. He didn’t do his homework.
During the next practice, Wooyoung kept his promise to Hongjoong to keep his head in the game. Every pass his way was intercepted and dealt with with ease, actively forcing his mind to stay on task at every success. Maybe he was just being dramatic. Maybe, after all, everything would be alright.
Delighted from a successful practice, Wooyoung followed the rest of the teammates into the locker room and began to remove his gear.
Mingi took a seat at the bench next to him, offering a nudge, “So, did you submit the assignment?”
Wooyoung narrowed his eyes, making sure everything was out of his locker. He always double-checked, but even if there was something missing, he knew there would be someone there to let him know, “Do you really have to talk about school when we just flew around on the ice for two hours? Can’t you at least let my mind process being on solid ground again?”
“I don’t know. Just tried to offer some variety in our conversations.” Mingi shrugged, leaning his head onto the wall of lockers. “Everyone only wants to talk about hockey or San these days. It’s so f*cking boring.”
That was a new one. Wooyoung’s hands slowly lowered, his head tilting, “What? What are they saying about San?”
“Oh, you know.” Mingi waved him off.
Wooyoung blinked, “Um. No. I don’t know. What?”
Mingi paid no mind, seeming disinterested, oblivious to the laser’s Wooyoung’s eyes were burning into his uniform, “Just the usual stuff. How he’s weird, always hanging around.”
“Anything else?”
“Well… they think he likes you,” Mingi finally made eye contact.
“Who is they?” Wooyoung scoffed, surveying the nearby teammates. Surely not them, right? Surely his closest ‘friends’ weren’t stuck in their high school days, throwing around baseless rumors. “And what do they even mean by that? Obviously, he likes me to an extent, or else he wouldn’t have lent me his skates.” Wooyoung said, unsure why he was stuck on defending the man, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Someone had to do San justice.
“I think they meant, like like you.”
“Once again, who is they?” Wooyoung repeated. Mingi wasn’t to blame as the messenger, but the mild irritation in his mind had to be directed towards someone. At the end of the day, San wasn’t hurting anyone.
Mingi let out a light sigh, “Whatever, man. Forget I even said anything.” He made a point of shoving his belongings inside and closing his locker before stalking out of the room without another word.
Wooyoung stood in silence, wondering if he could have handled that better. Or, maybe, Mingi just wanted to get home quickly and rest. That was what they all wanted at the end of the day, right? He paid no mind to the rest of the teammates as he finished getting unready, too stuck in his head at what they could have possibly said. It wasn’t as if anyone was having those San conversations with him, so they must be actively avoiding him. Enough to the extent that Mingi would know, and not Wooyoung. Mingi wasn’t usually the most well-versed in team drama.
Wooyoung left the locker room as well, following shortly after Mingi. At least he’d get to go home. That was always the bright side.
Though, just as Wooyoung was about to exit, he realized he was missing something. Not so much a belonging, such as his skates or gloves, but an interaction. He was missing an interaction with San.
It wasn’t normal for Wooyoung to seek him out, as that was never a needed endeavor in the past, but it felt odd to go through a whole practice and never catch even a glimpse of him. Wooyoung took the time to scan the waiting room, even going as far as to peek back into the locker room, but the attempts were in vain. San was nowhere to be found.
Even so, the other figure skaters were already there. San was the only one missing.
Wooyoung drew a blank. In the past few semesters, there were only a few times that San had missed practice for varying reasons. It was never a constant thing, never something that could be brushed off, as San proved to take the sport very seriously.
What was he supposed to do? There was a chance that maybe, just maybe, Wooyoung had gone through practice thinking that he could talk to someone afterward that wasn’t just another teammate.
Wooyoung would wait for him, he decided. Perhaps San was just late and stuck in some traffic. Or perhaps he was like Wooyoung, putting off all of these assignments until the last possible second. The possibilities were endless. Who was he to judge? Wooyoung didn’t have to get home and complete anything, so he would wait.
There was a small food court on the left side of the rink, the part that extended into a mall. Often when Wooyoung would hang out with teammates after practices, they’d go to grab some pizza. He could only hope that nobody decided to join in.
Wooyoung ordered a large cheese pizza and went to sit at one of the booths facing the rink entrance. That way, he’d be able to enjoy a hearty meal and also keep track of who was coming in and out. Pizza wasn’t even his favorite food in the world, but he hoped San would enjoy it.
Soon, the figure skater would arrive. Surely. If not then, well, Wooyoung was wasting his time.
It was quite hard to pinpoint exactly why he was waiting, but there was a part of Wooyoung that refused to go home until he’d had his San interaction of the day. Who knew? There might be a belonging missing, one that Wooyoung forgot, one he’d never remember to take home unless San pointed it out.
Twenty minutes passed while Wooyoung was busy gnawing on the pizza. He watched the rest of the team leave the rink, passing by without a care in mind. Every so often he would dip down, praying that his presence would fly unnoticed.
Eventually, he was able to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Maybe there was a side entrance, or maybe Wooyoung spent too long looking at the pizza because when he turned to face back up, there was a new presence standing over him. San was blinking back with a blank expression with his bag wrapped over his shoulder, attention unmistakably set on Wooyoung.
“Oh, hi,” Wooyoung said, offering a small wave. Those were all the words that came out, unfortunately. Even though he was the one sitting, waiting for San, Wooyoung didn’t know how to begin the conversation. He never had to, in the past.
“Hello. I didn’t think you’d still be here,” The blank expression on San’s face formed into a small smile, easing the nerves in Wooyoung’s heart.
Sure, he was late, but he was late and smiling. Wooyoung always knew that to be a good thing. He matched the smile to an extent, wiping the frown from his face, “Yeah. I decided to get some food. You were late, though.”
San’s eyes flicked to the ground, “Yeah.”
“I almost forgot my kneepads,” Wooyoung decided to tease, resisting the urge to nudge him. They weren’t on that level of friendship yet.
“Oh, sorry,” The look of joy drained from his face as an apologetic gaze took over.
Wooyoung scrunched his eyebrows, “What? Oh, I’m not mad at you,” He shook his head, realizing that was a hole he just dug himself into, “It’s just— never mind. Why were you late? Did something happen?”
“Just some scheduling errors,” San did nothing but shrug, reaching a hand up to hold onto the strap of his backpack, “I forgot I had to visit someone.”
“Oh, alright,” Wooyoung pursed his lips. The environment still felt… off. He didn’t know how to describe it. Usually, San would be the one asking the questions, providing answers without being prompted. As it stood, Wooyoung didn’t know how to take control of the conversation. Maybe that was an issue in itself.
San was busy looking out into the distance, eyes flicking back and forth, “Sorry, I’m a little distracted at the moment. If you want to talk more, maybe tomorrow? After practice?”
Wooyoung suddenly felt a chill roll through his body, unsure how to feel about a set plan to have a conversation with San. However, he quickly found no issue with it. They were likely going to interact anyway. “Maybe, yeah.” He shrugged before motioning towards the half-eaten pizza, “Here. Have some if you’d like. I’m not going to finish it.”
“Oh. Thanks.” San’s eyes shifted down.
“Yeah.” Wooyoung brushed his hands, standing up. The food was gone, his mission was complete. At the end of the day, he was there to get a meal. San’s late appearance at practice was just a bonus. “Hope you enjoy it.” He decided, backing out with a nod. Was it a crime to offer San a smile? No, but it was certainly out of the ordinary. Wooyoung wasn’t known to smile, not in recent days.
“I will. Were you going to head home, then?”
“Probably,” He spared a glance at the rink door, making sure all the hockey players had indeed cleared out, “I have some homework to do tonight.”
“Oh. Well, I wish you luck on those assignments.” San’s eyes were bright as he responded with a nod, reaching down to pick up a piece of pizza.
“Thank you.” Wooyoung replied, clearing his throat, “And… uhh… good luck with practice.”
The conversation ended there as Wooyoung made a point of grabbing his belongings before walking out of the rink, still lost about why he decided to stay so long after. His brain was making decisions for him, it seemed.
-
From when Wooyoung left the rink, to when his head hit the pillow, he had completed two assignments. Their accuracy was still up in the air, but that wasn’t the part Wooyoung was choosing to focus on. He did everything that was due for the next day, and something told him that he wouldn’t have done anything had San not offered such simple words of encouragement, accompanied by a bright smile.
It was only then did Wooyoung realize just how much he thought about San. His smile, specifically, as San had a lot of those to offer.
