Archive of Our Own ^beta

Seungmin has always loved winter. 

When he was younger, his mother would call him baegseol gongju, Snow White, due to his pale-ish skin and unexplainable adoration for the cold season. When he got older, Seungmin would simply describe himself as a chionophile. 

It only made sense that Seungmin would pursue a career affiliated with the cold. While child Seungmin found joy in snow forts and family trips to the frozen lake, adult Seungmin found his passion in the smooth glide of blades on ice. 

That brings him here, sitting in the locker room of an ice rink, adjusting the laces of his well-worn pair of skates. 

"You’re here early.” A voice comes from above him.

Seungmin huffs out a laugh, looking up from his skates. "So are you.”

Jisung smiles. "Move over,” He demands, not even waiting for Seungmin to respond before pushing him farther down the bench. Seungmin lets him, used to his antics by now. 

The two of them are quite close, despite being from two different parts of the skating world. Both Seungmin and Jisung competed in the men’s division, but Jisung ended up switching to pair skating after a couple years. 

"Got a reason for being here without your partner?” Seungmin questions, finishing up his laces and rising to his feet. He balances easily, years of training making standing on thin blades feel as natural as walking with sneakers.

"She’s busy today,” Jisung answers. "Figured I would get some practice in.” Jisung pauses in the middle of putting on his skates, looking up at Seungmin. "Have you heard the news?” Jisung asks, his voice quiet.

"News about what?” 

Jisung looks around the room for a second before looking back at his skates, tugging the left one on. "Minho is back.”

Fuck.

Lee Minho. Not only is he South Korea's golden boy, but he’s also the bane of Seungmin’s existence. 

Seungmin had the misfortune of meeting him five years ago at the Four Continents Championship, where Seungmin immediately decided that he disliked him. In fact, pretty much everyone knows that Seungmin and Minho dislike each other. When Minho is in Seungmin’s presence, there’s always suffocating tension, putting off Seungmin’s mood for the rest of the day.

When Jisung first asked Seungmin why he didn’t like Minho, Seungmin simply said he found Minho bratty and annoying.  

Minho is—well, was —known for being one of Asia’s most talented figure skaters, earning a medal at every competition he attended. News headlines called him silver dancer since he choreographed his own routines and always had silver incorporated into his outfit or hair styling. 

His legacy came to an abrupt halt two years ago when he overshot a triple axel in competition and landed harshly, tearing his ACL and fracturing three bones in his foot. 

As much as Seungmin hates to admit it, he felt slightly bad for Minho. Having no choice but to take a break from the ice is a skater’s worst nightmare. 

Even so, Seungmin was not anticipating his return in the slightest.

"What do you mean, Minho is back?” 

Jisung sighs, leaning back against a locker. "I mean, he’s back. It’s all over the news, God forbid you check your phone once in a while.” 

Seungmin quickly sifts through his bag, fishing his phone out from under his other things. Sure enough, as soon as he inputs ‘Minho’ into the search bar, an onslaught of articles floods his screen. 

Silver Dancer Lee Minho Reported To Be Making Skating Comeback!

South Korea’s Golden Boy Lee Minho Returns!

Look Out For Minho During This Year’s Skating Season!

Seungmin swipes out of Google, dropping his phone back into his bag. "Shit,” He mutters, shoving his bag to the side a bit harsher than intended. 

Jisung stands up, patting Seungmin on the shoulder in mock sympathy. "Now you’ve got to practice harder, since you’ve actually got competition now.”

"Minho isn’t competition,” Seungmin argues. "I’ve always placed above him.”

It's a true statement. Despite Minho being an extremely talented and famed skater, Seungmin is even more so, known at a global level for his achievements. His name is a household one all across the world, everyone raving about their beloved Korean-American skater. 

Seungmin was never in it for fame or awards, though. He's in it because he loves it. Everything else was always just a bonus. 

"Everyone is competition. One minor error could send you really far behind,” Jisung says. 

Seungmin sighs, gently removing Jisung's hand from his shoulder. "I know.”

Jisung gives him one last look before moving to exit the locker room. "I'll meet you on the ice. We can practice twizzles for a bit, then move onto whatever you want.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Before Seungmin can enter the ice, he's stopped by a hand on his arm. When he turns, he's faced with Jeongin, his manager. It's not an official title, really, but there's not any other name for what Jeongin does. 

"Chan contacted me this morning,” Jeongin starts, skipping any sort of greeting. "He wants you to try a quad axel in competition.” 

Seungmin stares blankly at them. "You're kidding.”

"Not kidding. We’ve seen you practicing them for years, and you've gotten extremely close. Maybe you'll be able to land it during next year’s season.” 

Seungmin laughs, shaking his head. "Nobody's ever landed it in competition. I haven't even landed it in practice. It’s dangerous, difficult—”

"Everyone knows that it’s extremely hard,” Jeongin interrupts. "But if there's anyone who could pull it off, it's you.”

"Tell Chan that it’s an insane idea. If he choreographs a quad axel into either of my routines next year, I'll switch it to a triple.” 

"You can't just stick with what you're comfortable with and expect to improve.” 

"I know, but a quad axel during competition is a death sentence! I’m barely confident with my quad lutz.”

Jeongin sighs in defeat, running a hand through their hair and looking at the ground. "Fine, I'll stop pushing. Just consider it, okay?” Jeongin asks, looking back up to face Seungmin.

"I'll think about it,” Seungmin says, simply to placate them.

It's not like Seungmin hasn't considered it before. He has, more times than he can count, but he's worried. Quadruple axels are insanely difficult, and attempting it in competition would just be asking for an injury. 

Maybe two years ago he would've thought about it more. He might have even agreed to Chan’s proposition, even though he was less experienced back then. However, ever since he saw Minho get injured that badly on a triple axel, he’s been scared. 

Seungmin remembers four years ago when he twisted his ankle in practice on a failed jump, screwing up his triple lutz. At the time he was terrified that he'd just fucked up his whole season, but it healed perfectly within a couple weeks. 

He couldn't imagine how Minho felt when he got injured. 

He knows it must’ve been physically painful. He was there when it happened, heard the crack when Minho fell, stood paralyzed from shock on the sidelines when the medics escorted him away.

But it isn't the physical pain that scares Seungmin. The worst pain a figure skater can experience is being told they can’t be on the ice. 

Even when Seungmin was out of commission for two weeks because of his ankle, he felt lost. Two years —he doesn’t know how Minho did it. 

Pushing aside his distaste for Minho, he can admit that he's strong. Three bone fractures, a torn ACL, yet not once did anyone see him cry. Seungmin probably would've been bawling if he were in that position. 

"You should probably go practice now,” Jeongin says, gesturing towards Jisung on the ice. "He’s scary when impatient.” 

Seungmin snaps out of his thoughts, looking back towards Jisung. He's casually skating around the rink, doing single or double jumps on occasion. However, when they make eye contact, Jisung’s glaring daggers at him. 

"Yeah, I should probably do that. See you later, maybe?” 

"I can’t meet you after practice today,” Jeongin says, smiling sheepishly. "There’s people coming that I have to meet with. After that I’ll probably get dinner with Felix since he's in town.” 

"That's alright. What's the meeting for?” Seungmin asks, trying to ignore Jisung’s stare burning into his back. 

Jeongin glances quickly at the older skater, eyes widening at his death glare before looking back at Seungmin. "I don’t really know—” 

" Kim Seungmin! ” Jisung's voice is loud, echoing throughout the rink. 

"Okay, okay. Bye, Jeongin.” 

"Bye, Seungmin!” 

Seungmin turns and enters the rink, sighing with content as his skates’ blades make contact with the ice. At this point skating is easier than walking, and the cold feels oddly like a comfort blanket on his skin. 

His relaxing state is quickly interrupted by Jisung’s complaining. "What took you so long?” Jisung whines, gliding over to Seungmin’s side so they can skate next to each other. 

"Apparently, Jeongin and Chan want me to try a quad axel in competition.” 

"That seems pretty crazy—”

"Right?”

“—But I think you could pull it off.”

Seungmin looks at Jisung incredulously, not saying a word. He hopes his expression conveys his disbelief. 

Jisung picks up on it, but he doesn’t seem to care. "Listen, Min, you’re currently the most talented and highest scoring figure skater in the continent, if not the entire world. With enough practice, I'm sure you’ll nail it,” Jisung says. 

When Seungmin still doesn’t respond, Jisung sighs, doing a quick T-stop and waiting for Seungmin to do the same. "You’re going to fail many, many times. It’s inevitable.” Jisung says. 

Seungmin snorts. "You’re great at encouragement,” Seungmin says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jisung rolls his eyes, punching Seungmin’s shoulder. "I'm being serious with you, Seungmin. You’re going to fuck up, you’re going to fall on your ass. Yet that really doesn’t matter. What was the piece of advice you gave me when I was frustrated with my jumps?”

"If you fall, all you can do is get up and keep trying, because a time will come when you don’t fall.”

"Exactly. A time will come when you succeed, but you can’t succeed if you don’t even try.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seoul, South Korea.

It's a familiar place for Seungmin—his mother used to take him annually to see some extended family and experience winter differently. The air feels heavier than back home in America, and something about the snow feels more comforting.

This time, he isn’t here with his mother. He’s here with Jeongin, Jisung, and Chan.

Jeongin checks them into the hotel, two rooms next to each other each with double beds. During the skating season they tend to switch around the roommates, and this time Seungmin and Chan share a room.

Once they’re finished unpacking, Seungmin splits off from the group, heading to the lobby to look around a bit.

"Hello, honey .” 

Seungmin nearly jumps out of his skin, swiveling around to face the owner of the voice. "For fuck’s sake, you almost scared me to death.”

Minho laughs unabashedly, and Seungmin feels a twinge of annoyance settle in his stomach.

"It’s been two years since we last spoke, babe, at least look a little happy to see me,” Minho teases, and the annoyance grows.

"Stop calling me that.” 

Seungmin spins on his heels, walking away from the conversation. He hears Minho scoff from behind him, and then he catches up and meets Seungmin’s pace. "I get we don't like each other, but that was rude,” Minho says. 

Seungmin stops in front of the vending machines, not looking at Minho. He can't be calm if he looks at him. "Why are you following me?” 

"I wouldn't have followed you if you had stayed put during our conversation.” 

"It wasn't a conversation, and I don't want to talk to you,” Seungmin says, grabbing some money from his pocket and shoving it into Minho's hands. "Buy yourself something, go easy on your leg, and learn how to shut up. Goodbye, Minho.”

Seungmin doesn’t look back when he leaves. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

"Felix, I swear to god I told you to stop saying that.” 

Felix laughs, attaching himself to Seungmin’s side and hanging off of his arm. "You look upset about something.” 

Seungmin hums, flopping down onto his bed and therefore pulling Felix with him. Since most of the other skaters are staying at the same hotel, Seungmin ran into Felix in the lobby, and now they're chilling out in Seungmin’s room while Chan goes and picks up dinner. 

"I'm not upset, just slightly annoyed.” 

"Did you run into Minho earlier?” 

"How'd you know?” 

Felix grins, flopping onto Seungmin’s chest and starfishing his limbs. "I saw him in the lobby a bit before we ran into each other,” Felix explains. 

Seungmin weakly tries to push Felix off, the older being very determined to supply everyone with affection. "Your partner is in this building, yet you're in here smothering me.” 

"Jeongin’s not in the building anymore, they’re getting me donuts.” 

Seungmin sighs, accepting defeat. He loves Felix, practically considering him as a brother, but he's clingy and slightly— extremely —spoiled. 

"Is it difficult?” Seungmin asks quietly, curious. 

Felix raises an eyebrow. "Is what difficult?” 

"Being with Jeongin, even though you live in Australia.” 

Felix hums thoughtfully, sliding his arms under Seungmin’s back. "It gets hard sometimes, definitely. There's moments where I miss them a lot,” he responds. "It’s worth it, though. I love them, and we make it work.” 

"You're good together.” 

Felix smiles cheekily, squeezing Seungmin’s torso before rolling off of him. He nearly falls off the bed, making an embarrassing squeaky noise as he rights himself. "These beds are tiny as hell,” Felix grumbles, more to himself than anything. 

Pretending nothing happened, Felix stands up, brushing off nonexistent dust. "Your short program is the first one tomorrow, right?” Felix asks.

"Yes, it is.” 

"Good luck, Min.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Both of Seungmin’s routines go by in a blur. 

His short program score is 102.44, and his free skate is 200.49, adding up to a full total of 302.93. It’s his new personal record, but that's not what he's thinking about. 

Minho's performance is, to put it lightly, rough. He seems hesitant to put weight on his left leg, and he fumbles the landing on a triple lutz. His planned quad loop falls short with only three rotations, and by the end of it, he's struggling to even land doubles. 

Yet, at the end of his performance, he doesn't look too bothered. 

Seungmin places first, a familiar gold medal around his neck by the end of the competition. Minho doesn't place. 

There's a banquet held in an open area of the hotel, as there usually is after competitions. By the eleventh congratulatory handshake, Seungmin is heading towards the drinks table, an ache settling in his head. 

Just his luck, he runs into Minho. 

"The entire internet is talking about you right now,” Minho says, disregarding any greeting as he walks into Seungmin’s personal space. He’s limping. “‘Kim Seungmin, ice prince.’ Doesn't ring off the tongue, they could've done better.” 

"Okay, what would you have chosen as a nickname then?” Seungmin asks disinterestedly, pouring himself a glass of wine. 

" Baegseol gongju. ” 

Seungmin nearly drops his glass. 

Minho doesn't seem to know the emotional calamity he just brought to Seungmin’s mind, and he takes Seungmin’s silence as an invitation to keep talking. 

"You know, Snow White. Since you're—”

"Please shut up.” 

"That's not very nice of you.”

“Please—”

“Oh, come on—”

“Minho—”

“Seung—”

" Shut up! ” 

Minho stares at him with wide eyes, mouth open in shock. Seungmin doesn’t blame him, the outburst was pretty uncalled for, and now there's a broken wine glass on the floor. 

Everyone’s staring. Seungmin is suffocating. He has to leave.

He pushes past Minho, making a beeline for the elevator. Fourth floor, turn right, three rooms down. Keycard in the slot. The door slams shut behind him. He collapses on his bed, suit still on. He doesn't care. 

It's really not Minho's fault, for using the same nickname his mother gave him. It was a coincidence, a badly timed coincidence, a coincidence that hurts because his mother is gone and he won't ever hear her say it again. 

It takes thirty minutes for Seungmin to compose himself, tell himself to return downstairs, and think of how he can apologize to Minho. 

He doesn't like Minho, but that doesn't give him an excuse to flip out on him. 

When he finds him, he's lounging on one of the hotel couches, suit vest draped across one arm of the couch. It has gotten warmer down here, Seungmin thinks. He doesn't look at Minho's arms. 

"I'm sorry,” Seungmin says, getting straight to the point. 

Minho's head shoots up from where he was staring at his phone. He looks shocked, and again, Seungmin doesn't blame him. There's a smile on his face now. 

"Way to make an exit, huh?” Minho muses, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Nobody’s talking about it though, so don't worry. I threatened them to maintain their silence.” 

Seungmin is slightly alarmed, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he slides onto the couch next to Minho, still refusing to look at him and leaving some space. "I'm serious, Minho. I'm sorry about freaking out. Just, in the future, don't call me that. I don't care what else you call me, just not that.” 

"I'll keep that in mind,” Minho says, " babe. ”

The twinge of annoyance in his stomach is back. He ignores it. Maybe tonight, they can be civil. Just for tonight.

Wordlessly, Minho offers Seungmin his glass of champagne. Seungmin takes it and downs it in one go, not caring that Minho is staring at him in mild shock. 

Seungmin hands him the empty glass, leaning further into the couch. Their thighs are touching, when did that happen? Seungmin doesn't really care. 

"If you get drunk and embarrass yourself in front of everybody, that isn't my problem,” Minho says. "You look like an idiot right now.” 

Seungmin finally looks at Minho, simply to glare at him. Minho's face gets on Seungmin’s nerves—he's stupidly attractive, and Seungmin finds it stupidly annoying. 

"I feel like an idiot, too,” Seungmin says.

Minho laughs a bit, leaning into Seungmin’s personal space. "Shouldn’t you be out there celebrating? You got a new personal best, you’re in record breaking territory.”

Seungmin looks away from him again. "I don’t care about the achievements or celebration, that’s not what I'm here for. Either way, banquets are silly, they’re breeding grounds for drama and making stupid decisions,” Seungmin says, gesturing towards the myriad of drunk skaters.

"Then why are you here?” Minho asks.

Seungmin is definitely too sober for that question. He doesn’t even know the answer, and frankly, he doesn’t want to. He knows he won’t like it.

Minho doesn’t seem to mind Seungmin’s lack of an answer. "You know, I don't really like these events either,” Minho admits. 

Seungmin snorts, making eye contact with Minho. "Aren’t you always at them, though? I thought you liked the attention, especially now that you’re back.”

"I was literally sitting here alone when you came back.”

"I figured you were sitting because your knee was bothering you.”

Minho's smile disappears, and his expression goes blank. Seungmin can’t tell what he’s thinking. Maybe Seungmin crossed a line, maybe he pried too much, maybe—

"Honestly, my knee is killing me right now,” Minho says.

Seungmin blinks at the sudden confession, slightly taken aback by Minho's honesty. "Shouldn’t you be back in your room resting, then?”

Minho breaks eye contact, shaking his head. "It doesn’t matter. Why do you care, anyway? We don’t like each other.” Seungmin can tell he’s deflecting.

"Just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean I'm gonna be an asshole,” Seungmin argues. "Injuries are shitty for figure skaters. You need to take it easy so you don’t get hurt again.”

Minho grins. "Missed me that much, huh? Don’t want me to leave again?”

Seungmin lightly shoves Minho's arm, but he laughs, fully leaning against Minho's side. "You wish, Minho. Go back to your room. Relax a bit. Your knee will thank you.”

"Is this just your elaborate plan to get rid of me?” Minho teases, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, it’s not,” Seungmin says truthfully.

Minho sighs, pushing himself off of the couch. He grabs his jacket, pats Seungmin’s head a few times, and turns to leave. "I’ll see you around.”

"See you.”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"You seemed quite friendly with Minho last night.”

Seungmin looks over at Jisung, furrowing his eyebrows. They’re on a plane back to California, having left early that morning to make their flight. Seungmin thought that Jisung had fallen asleep, but he was clearly wrong. He should’ve sat with Chan. 

"We weren’t friendly, we were civil . There’s a difference.”

"If being civil is sitting really close to each other and drinking out of the same champagne glass, then I think I'm doing acquaintanceships wrong,” Jisung says, scrunching his nose and looking at his phone. "There’s articles about you two, you know. The media was quite intrigued to see you guys getting along.”

Seungmin looks away from Jisung, staring at the seat in front of him. 

Jisung attempts to shove his phone in Seungmin’s face to show him the articles, but Seungmin bats his hand away and closes his eyes. "I'm not looking. The media is stupid and invasive. Mine and Minho's relationship—well, lack of one—is none of their business.”

"This is the kind of thing that comes with fame, Min,” Jisung says, attempting to pry Seungmin’s eyes open. "Don’t you want to see? Aren’t you at least a bit curious?”

"No, I'm not.” 

"What a shame. Do you think Minho has seen it?”

"I really don’t care.”

"Are you sure? You don’t—”

Seungmin snatches Jisung’s phone out of his hand, turning the screen off and sliding it into his own pocket. "I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve, but whatever it is, it’s not happening,” Seungmin says.

Jisung pouts, sliding down in his seat dejectedly. "You stole my phone.”

"I’ll give it back when we get off the plane,” Seungmin says, taking out his own phone and a pair of earbuds. "The airplane wifi is shitty anyway. Read a book. Take a nap. Do something quiet where you aren’t bothering me.”

"Okay, fine, ” Jisung mumbles, grabbing a book from his bag. 

Seungmin opens up Spotify, he can’t really do much else since he didn’t connect to the airplane wifi. He puts his earbuds in, closes his eyes, and tries to relax.

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

When Seungmin is back home in his single apartment, he’s feeling impulsive. 

His message thread with Minho is quite empty. Seungmin only faintly remembers why they exchanged numbers a few years ago, and Seungmin has Minho saved as ‘annoyance.’ The last message dates back to three years ago, a simple ‘fuck off’ sent by Seungmin. The message before it is Minho's, and it reads, ‘I'll kick your ass.’ He exits the thread. 

He takes a shower, eats a quick lunch, and has a small phone call with Jisung. He doesn’t open Google, and he doesn’t look at the news. He watches three episodes of a Netflix show. The itch under his skin doesn’t go away.

He changes out of his lounging clothes and puts on something more casual. He grabs his skating gear and leaves. He doesn’t bring his phone.

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

The ice rink is locked when he gets there. He unlocks the door with his own key, slipping inside quietly despite nobody else being in the building.

When he gets on the ice, he sighs, feeling any tension and exhaustion fade away. The cold has always had that effect on him. His skates feel like a second skin.

He warms up extensively, doing more than usual. He effortlessly lands a couple triple axels, testing the waters first. He considers something. 

His first attempt for a quad axel falls short with only three and a half rotations, making it a triple. His second doesn’t even make it that far. His third has three and three quarters, his fourth has a little more. He needs to make four and a half.

He falls so many times, he can't even count. 

On the last fall, he gets up and leaves it be. He moves on to practicing his spins instead. A quad axel isn’t something you can land in a day. There comes a time where he has to let it go.

He doesn't know how long he stays, but his legs are aching terribly by the time he leaves the rink. It’s dark outside now, and he left the house at around two. A light-up sign nearby says the time is 10:28pm. He hasn’t eaten since lunch.

He grabs some quick take out from a 24-hour restaurant and eats in his car. When he’s done, he drives home, exhaustion clouding his head. 

The door is unlocked and Jeongin is on his couch when he arrives at his apartment.  

"Where have you been?” Jeongin asks, and Seungmin can’t tell if the younger is angry or worried. Maybe a bit of both, he’s too tired to tell. 

"At the rink,” Seungmin answers, hanging his coat up in front of the door and dropping his gear somewhere on the ground. 

Jeongin stares at him for a few seconds, mouth open. "For eight hours? Seungmin, you just got home from a huge competition, and you woke up at five in the morning. I was scared, you know. You didn’t answer your phone and when I got here to check on you, you were gone.”

"I was practicing for a quad axel.” 

"That’s great, but you’re going to drop dead of exhaustion if this keeps up. You never eat while you’re there, and you were running on an empty stomach.”

"I got something to eat on the way back.”

"What would’ve happened if you fainted, or got hurt?” Jeongin asks, clearly growing more upset. "You didn’t tell anyone where you were, you didn’t bring your phone, you didn’t eat. Your health is more important than a quad axel, Min, you’re lucky nothing bad happened.”

Seungmin exhales, running a hand through his hair and looking at Jeongin. "I'm sorry, Innie. I know how I get, and I should've done a lot of things, but I just really wasn’t thinking when I left,” Seungmin confesses, dropping down next to Jeongin on the couch.

Jeongin lightly massages Seungmin’s shoulder, sighing. "Next time, give me a call. I’ll check up on you every hour or so if you want to practice alone. You can talk to me about things.” 

Seungmin nods, leaning further back into the couch. "I will next time, I promise. I'm really sorry for worrying you.”

"It’s okay. Just go get some rest, you really need it.”

"Thank you for checking on me.”

"It’s no problem, Min.”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

The next time Seungmin sees Minho, it’s two weeks later. 

He's on his way back home from a day out by himself when he sees him, sitting on a bench looking at his phone with a coffee in one hand. 

"Why are you in America?” Is the first thing out of Seungmin’s mouth. 

Minho looks up, startled, nearly spilling his coffee. He composes himself quickly, giving Seungmin a smile and making room for him on the bench. Seungmin doesn’t sit down.

"Fancy seeing you here,” Minho says, dropping his phone into his lap. He balances his coffee on the arm of the bench, and it makes Seungmin anxious. He doesn’t comment on it.

"I live here, Minho. You live in a totally different country.”

Minho waves his hand in the air for a second, gathering his words. "My parents have a vacation house here, they're here too. For an event. Are you curious as to what it is?”

"I don’t tend to care about the personal lives of people I don't like.”

Minho places a hand over his heart in mock hurt, using the other to wipe away fake tears. "I'm hurt, jagi . Then again, I don't really like you either. Are you going to sit down or not?” Minho asks. 

The coffee on the bench shakes back and forth, threatening to fall. "No.”

"Your loss, I'm wonderful company.” Minho leans further into the bench and crosses one leg over the other. He moves the coffee from the side of the bench to the ground in front of him, and Seungmin feels a bit better. 

"Your company is tolerable at best.” 

"You suck at compliments, honey. Seriously, sit the fuck down. It's weird that you're just standing in front of me while we have a conversation.” 

"This isn't a conversation,” Seungmin argues, but he sits down anyway, as far away from Minho as possible. There's a good amount of space between them. 

Minho laughs, following Seungmin with his eyes. "We’re two people talking to each other. Is that not a conversation?” 

"I guess it is, but I'm unsure as to why we’re still talking.”

"You're the one who approached me.” 

"I approached you out of confusion caused by your presence in America.” 

Minho snorts. "You talk like a damn professor. No wonder I find you so unbearable.” 

Seungmin hums, looking up at the sky instead of at Minho. "Well, I'm glad the feeling’s mutual. You’re pretty annoying, you know.” 

Minho smiles. "Oh, you flatter me. Of course someone like you would think I'm intolerable,” Minho says, grabbing his coffee from the ground and taking a purposely loud drink from it. 

"You really make it a point to get on my nerves, don't you?” Seungmin questions, looking at Minho with a raised eyebrow. 

Minho smirks. "So what if I do?” He asks, mirroring Seungmin’s raised brow. "It's quite fun.” 

"I don't see the point of it. You're just being annoying. I don't see how that's fun.”

Minho sighs, placing a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder. "Such a shame,” He says, removing his hand after a moment and gathering his things. "You've got such a pretty face, what a waste.” 

Minho gets up, taking another sip of his drink before giving it to Seungmin. "You can have this. Goodbye, Kim.” 

Seungmin doesn't say anything, just watching Minho's back as he leaves. When he's gone, he looks at the coffee. There's a good amount left. 

He throws it away on his way back home. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Preparing for the next competition is quite stressful. He knows his routines inside and out, but there’s always been nervousness prior to a competition. 

He sets aside his quad axel practice for the time being as November quickly approaches. The event takes place in mid-November, but he likes to get in as much practice as he possibly can. He’s representing America for the men’s singles discipline, he has to make it count. 

The current date is October 25th, and he feels like he's missing something. 

"Is today an important day?” Seungmin asks Jisung, sliding next to him on the locker room bench. Jisung and his partner have been practicing as well, since they're competing for pairs. 

"Funny that you ask that. Check the news,” Jisung says, slipping his skates off. 

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows, opening up his phone and looking for anything different in the news. 

Oh. 

Happy Birthday, Silver Dancer Lee Minho!

"It's Minho's birthday,” Seungmin says stupidly. 

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, I know. He’s celebrating it in America, too.” 

"He's still in America?” Seungmin asks, looking at Jisung in curiosity. "He's been here for like, a week.” 

Jisung raises an eyebrow. "How do you know that? It was only released to the public today that he's here. Nobody ever said how long it's been.” 

"I ran into him a few days ago,” Seungmin explains. Jisung stays silent as if to wait for more explanation, but Seungmin doesn't say anything else. 

"He's having a celebration in a few hours at his parent’s vacation place here. He invited pretty much every skater here, including me. Did he text you about it?” 

Seungmin opens his messaging app, noticing that there's a new notification. 

from: annoyance 

im having a birthday thing tonight at 8, if you wanna come. doubt you will, but it’s at [address]. if you show up don't dress in one of those god awful sweater vests you own, for fucks sake. 

Seungmin blinks at the message, and then at the time. There's three hours until eight, which would give him enough time to eat, shower, and get dressed. 

"Are you going?” Seungmin asks, looking back at Jisung. 

"Yeah, probably. Are you?” 

"I don’t know. You know I don't enjoy parties.” 

Jisung shrugs, carefully putting his skates away. "It's worth considering. You need to loosen up a bit, Min. This is a perfect opportunity for that.” 

Seungmin sighs, turning off his phone. "I'll think about it.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seungmin regrets showing up as soon as he arrives. 

There's too many people, the music is too loud, he doesn't know where anything is and he can't find Jisung. 

As he looks around, he thinks that maybe he should've worn a sweater vest just to spite Minho. Instead, he's wearing a slightly unbuttoned loose black button up paired with black jeans that were way too hard to get into. People are staring, and he doesn't like it. 

Eventually he reaches an empty part of the first floor, which seems like a small living room. There's just a couch and some shelves, and the music is much quieter. 

He takes a seat on the couch, opening up his phone to text Jisung.

to: hannie

where are you? i looked for you, but i can’t find you. 

He leaves it at that, not wanting to bug Jisung too much. Jisung’s supposed to be having fun, not babysitting Seungmin for the night. 

Suddenly, the couch dips slightly. "I didn't think you'd show up.” 

Seungmin glances up at Minho, and wow, okay. 

He's wearing a sheer black crop top and high waisted skinny jeans, a snowflake necklace adorning his neck. His deep purple hair frames his face in pretty waves, and there seems to be glitter in it. He's wearing lipgloss, too. 

"Jisung convinced me,” Seungmin says, staring at his necklace. It's silver, and the design is quite intricate. It's a good distraction. "Didn't you say you also don't like events like this?” 

"I made sure there's no alcohol here, and everyone's pretty much doing their own thing,” Minho says, making himself more comfortable on the couch. "I came in here for some quiet, but it appears we had the same idea.” 

"Why did you invite me?” 

Minho is silent for a few moments. "Well, it felt polite. I've also gotta make up for two years of not annoying you. I'll be more insufferable than ever.” 

Seungmin groans, and Minho laughs, lightly kicking Seungmin’s leg. "Move over,” Minho says, and Seungmin does.

"Happy birthday, by the way,” Seungmin says, finally making eye contact with Minho.

Minho smiles. "Thank you for that.” He says, before looking Seungmin up and down. "Thank you for dressing nicely, too. I would've kicked you out if you wore something dumb.” 

"My clothes are not dumb, you're just rude.” Seungmin grumbles. 

Minho smirks, one eyebrow raised. "Sweater vests are for librarians and middle aged college professors. You're a figure skater in your twenties.” 

"They're comfortable! ” 

"You literally skate in glittery and flashy leotards.”

"That's different. In casual settings, it's weird to be all dressed up. People have been staring at me since I got here.” 

"They're staring because you look hot as fuck.”

Both of them go silent. Seungmin’s mind goes completely blank, and Minho looks quite shocked himself. The air in the room suddenly feels heavier than it did before. 

Minho looks away first, his ears red. "I don't know why I said that.” 

Seungmin looks away too, not really knowing what to say. Minho has never actually complimented him before, and their bickering has never been interrupted that suddenly before. 

Minho pushes himself off the couch, not saying a word as he leaves the room. That's kind of odd. 

He checks his phone once to see if Jisung messaged him back, and he has two notifications. 

from: hannie

sorry, i couldn't make it :(

good luck with minho :)

to: hannie

you little shit. you set me up. 

He doesn't bother waiting for a response, instead leaning back against the cushions. He feels even more out of place than before. 

He isn't left alone for long, because Minho comes back after only a couple minutes, this time with two cups in his hand. He offers one of them to Seungmin, who takes it, staring at it silently. 

Minho sits next to him again. "It's just water, I don't know what you like,” Minho says, drinking from his own cup.

Seungmin tentatively takes a sip, and Minho scoffs, setting his own cup down. "What, you think I'd poison you or something?” 

Seungmin can't help but laugh, easily settling back into their dynamic. It's familiar. He finds himself not as annoyed as usual by Minho's teasing, if anything it's comforting. "Better safe than sorry.”

Minho rolls his eyes, his lips curling upward. "You're an asshole, Seungmin.” Minho never calls him by his name. 

"Last I checked, you thought I was ‘ hot as fuck.’ ” Seungmin responds, testing the waters. He wants to know how far he can push. 

"Just to be clear,” Minho says, "you can be hot and an asshole.” 

"I know, you're proof of that.” 

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted,” Minho says, amused. They're closer now. Seungmin doesn't really mind that fact. 

Seungmin hums, tracing Minho's eyes with his gaze and taking notice of small star shaped gems under one of them. He’s never truly looked at Minho up close before. 

"Take a picture, it'll last longer,” Minho says, smirking. 

"That line is terribly overused,” Seungmin replies, taking his phone out. "I actually will take a picture.” 

He opens his camera app, facing the front camera towards himself and Minho. They end up taking three photos, and Seungmin doesn't bother checking how they turn out. Minho steals his phone and takes four selfies of himself. 

"You know, I'm starting to believe I can tolerate you,” Minho says, handing Seungmin his phone back. 

Seungmin smiles a bit, leaning back. "So am I.”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seungmin and Minho, surprisingly, end up talking for nearly an hour before Minho gets pulled back into his own party. Seungmin would've stayed longer, but he needs to get home and rest so he can practice more tomorrow. 

In his contacts, he switches Minho's photo to one of the selfies Minho took of himself. His contact name is no longer ‘annoyance.’

When he gets home, he checks his texts from Jisung right away. 

from: hannie

i am sorry minnie pls don't hate me 

r u ignoring me now :( or did minho kill u??

if u die i'm stealing ur heart-wifi hoodie 

Instead of answering right away, Seungmin heads to his room to change. It takes an embarrassingly long amount of time to break free of his jeans, but soon they're replaced with sweatpants and his shirt is discarded entirely. 

from: hannie

u left me on seen, asshole !! 

Seungmin snorts at the message, changing Jisung’s contact name and typing up a quick response. 

to: spoiled brat 

[image attached] minho didn't kill me, thanks for ur concern tho 

from: spoiled brat 

YOU TOOK A SELFIE WITH HIM??? 

WHAT THE FUCK KIM SEUNGMIN ANSWER ME!!!

Seungmin, satisfied, exits his chat with Jisung and instead opens his thread with Minho. 

to: pretty boy [derogatory] 

[3 images attached] maybe you aren't as terrible as i thought. happy bday dumbass 

from: pretty boy [derogatory] 

you aren't too bad either. thanks for coming, i actually had a lot of fun. i’ll be in america for another few days if you wanna meet up?

to: pretty boy [derogatory]

sure, i have skating practice every day til 7 this week so any time after that is fine 

from: pretty boy [derogatory]

saturday at 7? i'll get you from practice and we can pick up takeout n go to my parents place. they're back in korea, vacation house is mine rn

to: pretty boy [derogatory]

sounds like a plan. see you saturday loser 

from: pretty boy [derogatory] 

sweet dreams, asshole 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"You left me on seen again last night.”

Seungmin casually skates next to Jisung, the both of them circling the rink for a bit since it's nearly the end of practice. "You deserved it.” 

Jisung whines, shoving Seungmin lightly. It does nothing to Seungmin’s balance. "You took a photo with Minho, what the fuck is that about? I made you go because I thought he was gonna bully you or something.” 

"You're an amazing friend, Jisung.”

"Seriously, though. Tell me everything.” 

"There isn't anything to say. We just talked for a while, that's all.” 

Jisung squints, scrutinizing him. "You’re weird.” 

Seungmin ignores that, instead breaking away from Jisung so he can practice his own things. Jisung seems to get the idea, so he leaves the ice, instead watching from the bleachers. 

Seungmin does two quick triple axels, landing smoothly. His legs don't hurt, and he's still pretty energized, so he thinks he could make a few more attempts at his quad. 

The first few attempts fall short, just four rotations instead of the four and a half he needs. He needs more momentum, but he can't push it too far or he'll risk injuring himself. 

His next attempts make a little over four rotations, but fall just shy of four and a half. His legs are starting to burn a bit, and the cold soaks into his pants in the places he landed on. 

His final attempt makes the full four and a half rotations, but he misses the landing completely. It's okay, it's progress, and he isn't hurt, which is always a good sign. 

When he gets up and skates to the exit, Jisung is waiting there with a grin. "You're getting closer, Min.”

"I'd hope so. I've been spending hours and hours on it every day.” 

"It's good that you're dedicated, but you need rest.”

When they enter the locker room, Seungmin downs a whole bottle of water. He's tired, the effects of practice finally catching up to him. He’ll try and go easier on himself tomorrow, since it'll be Saturday. 

When he finishes putting his gear away for tomorrow, he looks at his phone, and Jisung makes a noise. "What the hell, you never check your phone.”

Seungmin doesn’t see any new notifications, so he turns it off and slides it into his pocket. "I do, you just never see me do it,” Seungmin says. 

"I'd believe you if it didn't take you almost a month to answer my text one time.” 

"In my defense, the way you text is really stupid.” 

Jisung pouts, looking slightly offended. "It's not stupid, you're just boring. Get with the times.” 

Seungmin flicks Jisungs forehead in lieu of a response. "I'll see you tomorrow, brat,” Seungmin says, shrugging his coat over his shoulders.

"See you tomorrow, Minnie!”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Jisung is there before Seungmin whenever he arrives at the rink. Then again, Seungmin is half an hour late. 

"Where the fuck have you been?” Jisung asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He attempts to look intimidating, and it fails. 

Seungmin opens his locker, taking out his skates. "I stopped for breakfast on the way here,” he says, sitting on the bench to tug on his skates. 

Jisung huffs, kicking the side of the bench. "You could’ve told me. Buy me dinner after this so you can apologize.” 

"I'd love to, but I can't,” Seungmin says, double checking his laces to make sure they're tight enough. "I'm going to someone's house after practice.” 

"Someone?”

"Yes, someone.”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. "Are you going to tell me who it is?” Jisung asks. 

"No, thank you.”

Jisung kicks the bench again, and Seungmin looks up at him, glaring. "You're going to scuff your skates if you keep doing that,” Seungmin warns. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out in protest, kicking the bench a final time before heading to the ice without Seungmin. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seungmin runs through both of his routines multiple times, losing count after the fifth run through. 

He makes some more attempts at his quad axel, only making four and a half rotations a handful of times. He’s improving, but it'll take ages before he actually lands it. 

He spends less time on his own practice, instead choosing to stay on the sidelines a bit while Jisung practices. 

Eventually they switch out again, Seungmin going over his routines once more. Jisung disappears during the run through, but he comes back right as Seungmin exits the ice. 

"Seungmin, I have a quick question.” 

"Go for it.” 

"Why is Minho in the locker room?” 

Seungmin doesn't respond. Jisung stares at him for a good five seconds before his mouth drops open and his eyes widen in realization. "You're going to his house!”

Seungmin walks past him, and Jisung gapes. "Wait! What the hell? Kim Seungmin, explain! Get back here!” Jisung yells, trailing after him. 

Sure enough, Minho is sitting on one of the benches in the locker room, scrolling on his phone. He’s wearing a heavy-looking sweater and a scarf, seemingly overdressed for the fall weather. Seungmin himself is wearing a lighter sweater, a thin shirt under it to keep him slightly more warm. 

"You owe me like fifteen meals because of this,” Jisung says. 

Jisung’s voice alerts Minho to their presence, and he looks up, raising an eyebrow. "Fifteen? Make it thirty, you've gotta milk the fuck out of blackmail.”

Seungmin glares at Minho. "Stop encouraging him.” 

"Hello to you too, honey,” Minho says in an overly sweet tone, smiling fakely at Seungmin. 

"Aren't you a little overdressed for fall?” Seungmin asks, not acknowledging Jisung despite the younger tugging on his shirt incessantly. 

Minho shrugs, looking at his own clothes. "I get cold easily. I don’t like being too cold.” 

Seungmin blinks. "Minho, you're an ice skater. ”

"Okay, so?” Minho says, hugging himself tightly. "I prefer summer. Winter’s never really been my thing.” 

In Seungmin’s mind, that really makes no sense. Seungmin specifically chose ice skating because he loved winter. Summer is too hot and sticky and suffocating. Winter is freeing, plus it's prime skating season. 

"Whatever. Move over, I have to take my skates off,” Seungmin says, sliding next to Minho on the bench. 

Minho nudges his shoulder. "He looks like he's about to start screaming,” Minho says, tilting his head in Jisung’s direction. 

Seungmin hums, not bothering to look at Jisung and instead slipping his skates off. "He probably will.”

“You're not going to do anything about it?” 

"No, I stopped trying a couple years ago.” 

" Seungmin! ” Jisung yells, frustrated. "I'm telling Jeongin that you're going on a date with Minho!” 

Seungmin finally looks up at Jisung, sighing exaggeratedly. "We aren't going on a date. Also, what is Jeongin even gonna do?” Seungmin asks, slipping his sneakers on. 

Jisung finally moves to take his own skates off, sitting on the bench across from them instead of their usual bench. "They’re gonna tell Felix, and Felix can’t shut up so he’ll probably tell everyone.” 

"Everyone’s going to find out anyway.” Seungmin says, placing his things in his locker and putting the lock on. "We’re famous, Jisung, a couple fans probably got pictures of Minho coming in already. They'll get some when we leave together too.”

Jisung makes a point of kicking his skates off, sighing as loud as possible and making sure everything he does makes an unnecessarily loud noise. Seungmin just watches, amused. 

Minho looks between Seungmin and Jisung for a few moments, confused. "Is he always like that?” 

"I'm right here, you dick,” Jisung mumbles, throwing one of his shoes at Minho. He soon realizes his action and quietly gets up, retrieving his shoe so he can put it on. 

"So you think I’m annoying,” Minho says, making eye contact with Seungmin, "but he isn't?” 

Now that Seungmin thinks about it, Jisung really is quite annoying. Even so, he can't hate Jisung. Nobody can. 

"He gets away with it because he has a baby face.”

"I'm not a baby!”

"I’ll take that into account when you stop acting like a seven-year-old.” 

Minho chokes back a laugh and Jisung gawks at him, affronted. "Bully Seungmin, not me! You don’t even like him, and I’ve never done anything to you!” Jisung whines. 

Seungmin slips his bag over his shoulder, walking over and patting Jisung’s head. "Remember, this is your fault for ditching me on Thursday night.”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

They don’t really talk much on the way back. Minho's the one who picks up the food, apparently having already placed an order before he left. It's only a short walk, and it's not too dark, so a car was unnecessary. 

Minho's place is more spacious than Seungmin remembers, but it's most likely because there were so many people in it before. Everything is clean and in its proper place, but it still feels homey. 

"How often do you stay here?” Seungmin asks while they're eating, a box of pizza open in front of them on the counter for them to share. There’s two barstools set up on each side of the counter, Seungmin and Minho sitting on opposite sides. "In California, I mean.”

Minho shrugs, spinning around on his barstool. "I don’t know. My family normally comes once a year, but sometimes I come by myself.” 

Seungmin hums, not knowing what to say. It's odd speaking to Minho like this, just the two of them, without any bickering or passive aggressiveness. It's unfamiliar, but it's growing on him, and it's slightly concerning. 

"You spent your childhood in Korea, right?” Minho asks, throwing away his empty paper plate before turning back, attention fully on Seungmin. "Why’d you come to America?”

"Partially for skating,” Seungmin says, discarding his own plate and spinning once on his barstool. "Partially because when my mom got diagnosed with cancer, she wanted to spend the rest of her time here.” 

"That’s sweet, that you came with her.” 

Seungmin half expected Minho to say something like ‘I'm sorry’ since that's what most people do. It's refreshing to hear a new response, something genuine, something that isn't an apology. 

Seungmin smiles. "I loved her a lot. We spent a lot of time in the gardens. She liked the butterfly orchids, they're my favorite too. She used to give me one after every competition, whether I won or not.” 

"It sounds like she loved you a lot, too. I'm glad you have good memories with her,” Minho says. 

Seungmin spins once more on his chair before sighing, standing up from his seat. "Do you have any good movies?” He asks, switching the topic of conversation before he gets emotional. 

"I have Kiss and Cry if you want to watch that.”

"Oh, so you're a man of taste, I see.”

Minho grins, jumping down from his barstool. "Of course, I do have you in my house.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"This movie is so fucking sad.”

"Can you stop talking during the movie?” 

"No,” Minho says, draping himself over Seungmin. "Shit, no wonder you love the cold. You’re like a fucking heater. Maybe you are useful, after all.”

Seungmin ignores him, turning the volume up so he can hear it. Minho grabs his wrist, taking the remote from his hand. "It's too loud.” 

“ You are too loud. Shut the hell up. Give me back the remote.” 

"You are a guest in this house.” 

"Therefore, as a polite host, you will hand me the remote.” 

Seungmin snatches the remote from Minho's hand, turning the volume back up. Minho reaches for it again, but Seungmin blocks his hands. 

Minho scowls, swatting at Seungmin’s arm. "Give me back my remote, asshole. We aren't even paying attention to the movie anymore.” 

"That's your fault for not knowing how to shut your damn mouth.” 

"Not commentating during a movie is fucking boring. You are fucking boring.”

Seungmin shuts the volume off, setting the remote on the far end of the couch. "What happened to you saying that having me in your house was good taste?” 

"You've got a gorgeous face, darling, but every time you open your mouth I want to shut you the hell up.” 

Seungmin makes a split second decision. "Shut me the hell up, then.” 

Minho looks at Seungmin silently, studying him. In response, Seungmin raises an eyebrow—a silent challenge. What's the next move? Pointedly, he drags his gaze down to Minho’s lips before looking back up at his eyes. 

Minho takes the bait and surges forward, grabbing Seungmin’s face in his hands and kissing him square on the mouth. 

Seungmin kisses back eagerly, threading one hand through Minho's hair and placing the other on the side of his neck. Minho pulls him impossibly closer, throwing one leg over Seungmin’s lap. 

"You're blocking the movie, Minho.” 

"I am the movie, shut up and kiss me harder.” 

Seungmin laughs, pulling Minho fully onto his lap and meeting their mouths together again. Minho sighs, draping his arms around Seungmin’s neck. 

He can't pinpoint exactly what he's feeling right now. He's pissed off, definitely, but somewhere in his distaste for Minho, there's a shred of attraction. He wonders how long it's been there. 

Seungmin doesn’t romantically like Minho, and he’s completely sure of it. Minho gets on his nerves, pushes all of his buttons, but he'd be absolutely lying if he said Minho wasn’t attractive. They’re simply expressing their frustrations, albeit a bit unconventionally. 

He isn't sure how long they stay there, clouded in the feeling of each other's mouths, but when Minho pulls away his lips are swollen and shiny. Seungmin assumes he looks the same. 

Minho wordlessly slides off of Seungmin’s lap, reaching over to grab the remote from Seungmin’s other side. When he retrieves it, Seungmin doesn’t protest. 

"I’ll compromise,” Minho says, slightly breathless. "Volume stays low, but I'll stop talking.” 

"Deal.” 

Minho rewinds the movie back to where they left off, turning the volume to his own personal preference. Minho leans into his side and goes silent for the rest of the movie, and Seungmin can’t tell if this is a victory or not. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seungmin leaves Minho's place at eleven, when it’s still dark. His apartment is close by, so he doesn’t bother asking Minho for a ride, instead choosing to walk home and clear his head a bit. 

He checks his phone when he gets home, seeing one message from Minho. He hesitates to open it, but he sucks it up and opens the thread. 

from: pretty boy [derogatory] 

we should argue more often, kim seungmin. 

Seungmin really can’t handle the implications of that message right now. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"I don’t know how to speak French.” 

"Jisung, you can speak English. We’re in Canada.” 

" Oui , but we’re in Montreal. ”

Seungmin slaps Jisung on the back of the head, earning a dirty look and an elbow in the side. 

Jeongin nudges Seungmin’s shoulder, pointing towards the other side of the hotel lobby. " Ton copain t'attend. ”

Chan chokes back a laugh and Seungmin has no idea what Jeongin just said, but honestly, he doesn't really think he wants to, since Jeongin is pointing at Minho. 

"I have no idea what you just said,” Jisung pipes up, not caring that it wasn't meant for him. 

Jeongin glares at Jisung. "Half of Montreal is bilingual, the other half is mostly French speakers.” 

"Okay, well, I'm from Virginia, so that doesn't matter to me.” 

"Can you please just check us in, Jeongin?”

"Sometimes I forget I have an actual job to do,” Jeongin says, breaking away from the group and heading towards the front desk. 

Seungmin turns to Chan, but before he can open his mouth, Chan is already speaking. "I'm not telling you what Jeongin said, go learn a language.”

" I speak multiple languages already!”

There's a tap on Seungmin’s shoulder. " Bonjour, chérie. ”

Seungmin turns around, staring blankly at Minho. "You speak French too?” he asks. 

"Pfft,” Minho laughs, "not at all, I just memorized that so I could tell you. I already know three languages, honey, I don't need another.” 

Chan looks between both of them, sighs, and walks away. Jisung stays in place, squinting at them, frowning. 

Minho looks at Jisung, raising an eyebrow. "Do you need something?” 

"Nope,” Jisung answers, remaining in his spot. 

"Anyway,” Minho says, drawing out the last syllable as he looks back at Seungmin. "I'm going to go. See you at the competition, baby.” 

Seungmin doesn’t respond, and Minho just smiles, blowing a kiss in Seungmin’s direction as he turns around and walks away. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

When Jeongin tells Seungmin that they're rooming together, a wave of relief passes over his body. 

He doesn't dislike rooming with Chan or Jisung, not at all. However, Jisung has been even more annoying than usual, and Chan is kind of boring to room with. 

Yet, he begins to realize that he's poorly mistaken. 

"We’re going to have a talk.” Jeongin is sitting on Seungmin’s designated bed, hands folded over their lap with a look on their face and Seungmin wants to run out the door. 

Seungmin slowly walks towards Jeongin, sitting across from them. Jeongin smiles. "Don't look so nervous, there's nothing to worry about. You're safe here.” 

"You're my manager, not my therapist.” 

"I'm your friend, and we are going to talk, like friends do.” 

Seungmin shifts uncomfortably in his spot, avoiding Jeongin’s eyes. "No, this really feels like therapy.” 

Jeongin sighs, putting their hand on Seungmin’s knee. "So, in regards to you and Minho—” 

Seungmin immediately gets up and walks right out the door, slamming it behind him.

He remains in the hallway for a few moments, before realizing something. 

His keycard is in there. Shit . 

He turns around and knocks on the door shyly. "Can I have my keycard?” He asks through the door, embarrassed. 

"Not unless you agree to come in and talk. If you don't want to, I'll give you all of your stuff, just not your card.”

Seungmin stands outside of the door, stunned. He knew Jeongin could be stubborn and petty, but not to the extent of kicking Seungmin out of his own hotel room. 

"There's nothing to talk about,” Seungmin argues, but he has a feeling Jeongin won't let him off that easily.

There's some shuffling behind the door for a moment, and it opens, but before he can comprehend anything, his suitcase is on the floor in front of him and the door is slammed shut.

to: spoiled brat

jisung please be nice for once. jeongin kicked me out of the room and won't let me back in and i need a place to sleep PLEASE jisung 

from: spoiled brat 

lmao good luck finding a place to sleep

His contact name becomes even more fitting every day, Seungmin thinks. 

He spends all of three minutes standing helplessly in front of his door before a solution comes to mind, and it's the worst possible solution. However, it's also the only solution. 

to: pretty boy [derogatory] 

you have a hotel room to yourself, right?

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"Didn't think I would see you again so soon.” 

Seungmin lets himself into Minho's room, dramatically dropping his suitcase onto the floor. "This is due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Minho snorts, walking to one of the beds and dropping himself onto it. "What did Jeongin even want to talk to you about, anyway? Surely it’s something extreme, if you chose to room with me instead,” Minho says, picking at his nails indifferently. 

"That's none of your business.” 

"Isn't it my business?” Minho drawls, glancing over at Seungmin. "After all, this is my hotel room. You’re the one who rudely invaded it.” 

"You could've said no.” 

"I'm a bitch, but I'm not mean. I'm not just gonna leave you to sleep in the lobby or something.” 

Seungmin hauls his suitcase onto the other empty bed, which is next to Minho's with a little bit of space between. In that space there’s a nightstand with a lamp and a hotel notepad, as well as a charger set-up. 

He can feel Minho watching him as he unpacks his things, and he tries to ignore it. By the time he's almost done, he gives up, looking at Minho. "Do you need something?”

"You do realize how long you’ll be staying here, right?” 

Seungmin blinks. "Yes.” 

"You say Jeongin is stubborn, yet you’re the one who is willing to spend an entire week sharing a room with me purely because you don't want to talk to them.” 

Seungmin doesn't say anything, instead placing his empty suitcase next to the bed. Minho gets up and heads to the bathroom, and Seungmin ignores it, opening his phone. The shower starts running soon after. 

from: jeongin

you aren't outside anymore, and you aren't in the lobby. either you went out, or you were kidnapped. 

to: jeongin

i'm staying with minho

from: jeongin

you are never going to hear the end of this, you know. 

i thought you hated minho? you two are confusing. 

to: jeongin 

listen, it was the only option i had.

he's literally singing in the shower right now and it's super annoying. 

i wish i was kidnapped instead

That's a lie. Minho is, in fact, singing; but he has a really nice voice and Seungmin doesn't mind. He doesn’t recognize the song, but it suits him well. 

Seungmin busies himself on his phone, not bothering to look up when he hears Minho leave the bathroom. 

"You can't just avoid looking at me, Seungmin, we're practically living together for the next week.” 

Seungmin looks up. Minho doesn't have a shirt on. He looks back down at his phone. "I can do what I like.” 

"Nobody ever got anywhere in life doing what they liked.” 

"I’ve gone pretty far with skating.” 

"Lucky for you, then.” 

Seungmin doesn't really register the true meaning of those words until a moment later, and he immediately turns back to face Minho. He has a shirt on, this time. "You don't like skating?” Seungmin asks, incredulous. 

Minho sighs, sprawling out on his bed. "Do we have to talk about this? We barely know each other.”

"We went on a date.” 

"We were simply hanging out. You even told Jisung that it wasn't a date.” 

Seungmin laughs, shaking his head. "Well, when the night ends with making out on your couch, I believe the lines between ‘date’ and ‘hanging out’ become quite blurred,” Seungmin says, and that stupid annoyed feeling is in his stomach again. 

Seungmin closes his eyes when he's done speaking. Minho is oddly silent. Seungmin doesn't even have to look at Minho to feel the suffocating tension in the room. They never talked about the kiss, this is the first time it's been brought up. 

He hears Minho moving, and the bed dips slightly at the end of it. Seungmin opens his eyes. Minho is sitting almost in front of him, watching him, studying him. 

"I don't like skating,” Minho says plainly, as if the words mean nothing to him. "I like dancing, and I like performing for an audience, but I don't like skating.” 

Seungmin straightens his posture, watching Minho subconsciously mimic the movement. Interesting. "So why skate then? Why not dance?” Seungmin asks. 

"I don't know.” Minho's voice is oddly quiet. "I was going to quit when I got injured, but I didn't, for some reason.” 

"Doesn't it get stressful?” 

"Of course it does, I want to quit, but I'm afraid I'll be letting people down. Plus, I wouldn't have an excuse to…” Minho trails off, staring behind Seungmin instead of at him. 

Seungmin sighs. “Minho, if your heart’s not in it, you shouldn't keep doing it. When the season’s over, if you really want to, you should quit.” 

"I don't understand why you care,” Minho says suddenly, his voice quiet and unsure. 

Seungmin is slightly taken aback. "You're annoying, and kind of a bitch, but I do care about you, Minho.” 

Seungmin thinks he can see a hint of a smile on Minho's face. "Thank you, Seungmin. I really do appreciate it.” Minho's voice is sweet and genuine, a tone he's not used to. 

Minho opens his arms widely and Seungmin stares at him, confused. Minho huffs, waving his arms a bit. "Hug me, you fucking dumbass.” 

"Are you sure? I thought—”

Seungmin is cut off by Minho toppling him over in a hug, landing on his back while Minho laughs and squeezes him. 

After a solid minute of being unable to breathe, Seungmin tugs at Minho's arms, trying to free himself. "Minho, moment’s over, you can stop suffocating me now.” 

Minho makes eye contact with him and grins. "What if this is my evil plan to suffocate you and take the gold medal for myself?” Minho teases, squeezing Seungmin harder. 

"I thought you were a silver dancer, therefore you need a silver medal.” 

"I'll be lucky if I even get bronze, with the way my knee has been.”

Seungmin abruptly sits up, bringing Minho with him and pushing him off. "Let me see.” 

Minho looks alarmed, like a deer caught in headlights. "No, it's fine. I’ll just rest it. The injury was two years ago, I recovered, I should be—” 

"Let me see it, Minho.” 

Minho swallows, sitting up properly. He slowly and carefully rolls up one leg of his sweatpants, and yeah, his knee is fucked. 

It's red and swollen, especially towards the front. There's small bruises on his legs that indicate he's been practicing often, and therefore falling on it as well. 

When Seungmin gently presses on his knee, Minho immediately retracts his leg and curses. From what he felt, Minho has another injury that he neglected to tell anyone about.

"You sprained it,” Seungmin says, looking back up at Minho's face. He looks guilty, caught. Ashamed, almost. 

"I didn’t think it was that bad. It happened last night, I came here when it was a bit okay but it's getting worse, I think if I just rest it then—” 

"You can't skate on this, Minho,” Seungmin says, pulling Minho's pant leg back down. "You’ll make it even worse, to the point where it's unusable. You need to elevate it and get some ice on it, or you could do serious permanent damage that you won't ever properly recover from.” 

Minho is silent. He’s looking at his hands, avoiding any eye contact with Seungmin and playing with his fingers. 

Seungmin sighs, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder. "Why did you even show up here? You knew you were injured.” 

“Because I kind of hoped I would see you.” 

Seungmin’s breath hitches, and he stares at Minho to try and figure out if it's some sort of joke. Minho looks dead serious. Vulnerable, even. 

Minho bites his lip, and then looks back at Seungmin. His expression turns from something weak to something more determined, like he has an idea in mind. 

"Can I kiss you?” Minho asks suddenly, eyes flitting over Seungmin’s face. 

Seungmin blinks a few times, confused, but his answer is confident. "Yes.” 

It's not as intense this time. The approach is slower, more methodical, and Seungmin has the opportunity to fully drink in the moment. 

Minho's lips are soft and taste faintly of coconut, and when Seungmin threads his fingers through his hair, the strands are still damp and smell of roses. It's calming, heavy in a way that makes him feel like his veins are filled with honey. 

Even though this is only the second time they've kissed, Minho somehow knows exactly how to match Seungmin’s rhythm. They move in tandem, their kissing styles extremely compatible. 

"Seungmin,” Minho exhales, tilting his head to the side slightly. Seungmin gets the message, moving his mouth to Minho's skin, basking in the revelation that Minho's neck is sensitive and the sounds he's making are heavenly. 

Just as Seungmin is about to move to a new spot, there's incessant knocking at the door, and Minho groans, pushing Seungmin away and sliding off of the bed. 

"I swear to god, I'm going to kill whoever is on the other side of this door,” Minho grumbles, padding over to the door and squinting through the peephole. "Ah, it's Jeongin. Come and see what they want.” 

Seungmin quickly glances at himself in the wall mirror. His face is flushed, hair slightly messy and lips glossy and red. Jeongin is going to know. 

"I look wrecked,” Seungmin says stupidly. "Minho, sit down and rest your knee. I’ll handle it.” 

Minho stands at the door for a few seconds before walking back to his own bed. Now that Seungmin is paying attention, he can see the way Minho is limping slightly, avoiding any pressure on his left leg. 

When he opens the door, Jeongin is standing there, as expected. Their mouth is open to say something, but they freeze when they actually take in Seungmin’s appearance. 

"Woah,” Jeongin whispers, practically in shock. "You—You two—Huh?” 

"It’s not what you think, Jeongin. It's a long story.” 

Jeongin blinks. "You two made out.”

"Okay, well, maybe it is what you think, but—” 

"I don't want to hear about it,” Jeongin interrupts, taking something out of their pocket and extending their hand towards Seungmin. "I'm giving this back. What you decide to do is your decision, and we will be talking about this.” 

Seungmin looks at the keycard in Jeongin’s hand. "Thanks,” he says, “but keep it.” 

Jeongin fake gags, shoving the keycard back in their pocket. "I'm leaving, then.”

"I'll see you tomorrow.” 

"Yeah, whatever.”

Jeongin turns and walks down the hallway without a word. Seungmin silently watches them leave, and when he shuts the door his mind is blank. 

Minho is staring at him with an eyebrow raised, prompting him to say what the conversation was about. 

"They came to give me my keycard,” Seungmin explains, laying back down on his bed. He's on his side, facing Minho's side of the room. They make eye contact. 

"So you’re leaving?” 

"No, I gave it back to them.” 

The corners of Minho's lips quirk up. "Good.” 

Seungmin returns the smile, not saying anything and just looking at Minho. No makeup, no special clothes, no perfect hairstyle. It's just him, natural and glowing and pretty. God, how did Seungmin not notice any of this sooner?

"You should really get to sleep now, Seungmin. You have the competition tomorrow.” 

"You're dropping out of it, right?” 

Minho subconsciously tugs his knee closer to his body. "Yes, I am. I’m dropping out of figure skating altogether. I have a plan for after this properly heals.” He’s smiling. Excited, almost.

Part of Seungmin’s brain is proud, and glad. Minho is going to do something he loves, and give himself time to heal. 

A smaller part of Seungmin’s brain doesn't want Minho to go. He's gotten too used to him over the past month and a half, he's become familiar, but it's different than how they were years ago. 

Four years ago, they didn't even speak to each other that much. They stayed away from each other, but on some occasions they would bicker or throw light insults at each other when they had the chance. 

Leading up to a few months before Minho's injury, they had started talking a bit more frequently, but the conversations were always passive aggressive. Minho was purposely flirty and incessant because he knew Seungmin hated it, and Seungmin was purposely ignoring him because Minho thrives on attention. They exchanged numbers during an intervention staged by Chan, but it proved unsuccessful. 

Seungmin had hated him. He isn't going to sugarcoat it, because it's the truth, and what's done is done. He had despised Minho. 

He isn't sure what changed within the two years of Minho's hiatus. Things were normal the first time they saw each other, but at the banquet things just spiraled out of Seungmin’s control. 

Hate relationships thrive when your vulnerable emotions are kept in check. Seungmin acted guarded, Minho acted confident, but pairing that with Seungmin’s empathetic and sensitive mindset and Minho's insecurity and knee injury caused the control to slip away. 

Now, he isn't sure where they stand, or where he wants to stand. Minho is insufferable and annoying but only on purpose, and maybe if they tried they could actually get somewhere. Yet right now, they're in a grey area. 

He had hated Minho because it was easy, but the most valuable things in life are always harder to achieve. 

"You're thinking very hard about something,” Minho comments, snapping Seungmin out of his thoughts. "Wanna share?” 

Seungmin contemplates deflecting it, but that would be easy . He needs to talk to Minho properly. "Are we friends, Minho?” 

Minho opens his mouth, closes it, and furrows his eyebrows. "I don't know,” Minho says. 

"Do you want to be friends?” 

"Not necessarily friends , no.” 

Seungmin blushes, breaking their eye contact and staring at Minho's bed frame. "We’ll see.” 

Minho laughs quietly, reaching forward to turn the lamp off. "Goodnight, Seungmin.” 

"Goodnight, Minho.” The room goes dark, but Seungmin feels a lot lighter. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Lee Minho Reported To End Figure Skating Career Due To Unknown Reasons.

Figure Skating Fans Are Shocked To Hear Lee Minho’s Retirement From The Ice!

Speculation: Lee Minho Suffered Unreported Injury?

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Seungmin doesn't get gold. 

He saw it coming the moment he stepped on the ice; and instead of his routine, all he could think about was the news reports he had read earlier. 

He scores lower than usual on his short program, and fails to make up for it during his free skate. There's a silver medal around his neck by the end of the competition. 

Despite rooming with Minho, he rarely saw him unless it was right before bed. Seungmin spent most of his day at the actual event, while Minho remained resting in their hotel room. 

The day his flight is scheduled to leave, he wakes up and Minho is already gone. His suitcase and things have disappeared, and his keycard sits on the nightstand. 

However, when his eyes land on the bed Minho was using, his heart skips a beat. 

A single yellow butterfly orchid, placed right in the middle of the bed. 

There's a small note next to it, and Seungmin reads it carefully. 

You didn’t get gold, idiot. Am I really that distracting? I can't blame you. Fun fact, this flower means new beginnings. You can't bring a vase on a plane, so this is just holding off until you arrive home and there's an actual one on your doorstep. 

xoxo Lee ‘pretty boy’ Minho

P.S. — Get a stronger phone password. Your birthday? Really?

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

There is, in fact, a butterfly orchid sitting outside his apartment door. He half thought that Minho was joking, but he must've gotten Seungmin’s address from Jisung or Jeongin. 

He places the vase by the window in his bedroom, checking the soil and watering it. His mother taught him how to take care of all types of plants, especially orchids, so this comes as second nature.

Seungmin’s phone buzzes when he's finished unpacking his things, and he checks it immediately. It's a message from Minho, who apparently changed his own contact name when he infiltrated Seungmin’s phone. 

from: amazing hot great kisser lee minho

text me when you get home, honey

Seungmin snorts at the contact name, but he switches it to something else. 

to: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

i’ve been home for a while, just finished unpacking. 

from: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

will you take me on a proper first date?

to: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

you certainly know how to get straight to the point. aren't you in korea? how will i take you anywhere?

from: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

i moved into the house in cali, dumbass. once my injury heals completely, i’m going to be teaching dance classes at chan’s studio. 

It takes a few seconds for Seungmin to realize the meaning of what Minho just said. He lives in California, his house is about a ten minute walk from Seungmin’s, and he asked him out. 

to: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

i’ll take you on a date but there's one condition

from: pretty boy [complimentary?]

and that is…?

to: pretty boy [complimentary?]

don't try to impress me, don't dress up specifically for me, don't do anything like that. be genuine

from: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

can i still make myself look hot 

to: pretty boy [complimentary?]

you already do look hot, but absolutely

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"Jisung, you've been silently staring at me without saying anything for like five minutes.” 

"Will you please let me be dramatic?” 

Seungmin sighs, slipping his skates on. He was planning on practicing alone, but he ran into Jisung, who was on his way out when Seungmin entered. Now, Jisung is staring. 

"Jeongin said you kissed Minho.” 

Seungmin nearly chokes on air, but he quickly composes himself, ears burning as he stares at the ground. "That isn't any of your business.” 

Jisung’s eyes widen and he points at Seungmin accusingly. "So it's true! ” 

"Yes, Jisung.” 

"You hate him!” Jisung cries, slumping onto one of the benches. "You would always rant to me about how much you found him annoying. Not only that, but...” 

Seungmin lets him ramble, tuning him out while he tightens his laces. After a while, Jisung realizes he isn't listening, and he whines, clapping to get Seungmin’s attention. "You aren't even listening!” 

Seungmin takes a deep breath, finishing off his laces and planting his skates on the ground. He gets up, walks over to Jisung, and stands in front of him. 

"Minho and I are working things out, I'm taking him on a date in a week, we've kissed twice and no, I don't hate him anymore. Have a good day, Jisung.” 

Jisung gawks at Seungmin when he walks away, left speechless. Seungmin considers that as a success. 

When he gets on the ice, surprisingly, Chan is there. He’s not on the ice, he's on the bleachers, so Seungmin skates over to him. 

"Chan?” 

Chan looks up from his phone and smiles a bit when he sees Seungmin. "Hey, Min. I was waiting for you, I figured you'd come here.” 

Seungmin hums. "Any particular reason?” 

"Yes,” Chan says, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Jisung’s told me about your quad axel progress so far and I'd like to see it. You can warm up first, just come over when you're ready to work on it.” 

"Of course.”

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

The first time Seungmin lands his quad axel, it’s sloppy. 

He just barely makes the full four and a half rotations, and he lands shakily on his right foot, left leg extended behind him. He doesn't even register that he landed for another five seconds. 

" Seungmin! ” Chan yells from the bleachers. When Seungmin turns to face him, he’s staring in awe, phone in front of him. He was most likely recording. 

Seungmin smiles brightly, heart racing and legs tingling. It's exhilarating, knowing he just did something like that. 

He skates over to the exit of the rink, meeting Chan at the bleachers. Chan pats him on the shoulder before engulfing him in a tight hug. "You fucking landed it, dude.” 

"The landing was pretty bad, though.” 

"Yes, but there was a landing! You didn't fall, you made the full rotations, do you have any idea how insane that is?” 

Seungmin can't help himself from grinning, pulling away from the hug. "You recorded it, right? Send it to me.” 

Chan nods, pulling his phone out and showing him the video. Seungmin was right, the landing was pretty shaky, not the best but definitely still progress. When the video is over, Chan texts it to Seungmin. 

"Can I post this?” Chan asks, looking up at Seungmin for confirmation. Seungmin nods. "Go ahead.”

"I'm really proud of you, Seungmin, seriously. You should go home and get some rest,” Chan says, tapping away on his phone. 

"Yeah, definitely. Thank you, Chan.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

YouTube Video Goes Viral - Kim Seungmin Lands Quad Axel In Practice!

Korean-American Figure Skater Kim Seungmin Lands Quad Axel - Watch It Now! 

Reports Say Kim Seungmin Has ‘Record-Breaking’ Potential, Could He Land The Quad Axel In Competition?

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

"We never talked about Minho,” is the first thing Seungmin hears when he enters his apartment. 

Jeongin is sitting at the table, and Seungmin's definitely regretting giving them a spare key, because they show up all the time out of nowhere. 

Seungmin kicks his shoes off by the door, choosing to walk right past Jeongin and to the fridge for a bottle of water. "Hello, Jeongin. Do you want anything to eat?”

"No, I ate before I came here. Listen—” 

"Can I at least sit down first?”

It’s silent, and Seungmin downs half a bottle of water before sitting at the table across from Jeongin. He's being analyzed, which Jeongin normally does before a conversation. He has a feeling he's going to be interrogated. However, that isn't the case. 

"Does Minho treat you okay?” Jeongin asks, crossing their hands on the table. "Like, do you enjoy hanging out with him, and doing whatever you two do together? Is everything good?” 

Seungmin blinks. "Well, other than the fact that he can be annoying sometimes, he’s good with me. He'd never try to hurt me or be mean to me on purpose,” Seungmin says, and it's true. 

Jeongin stares at him for another moment, and after a while their lips quirk up. "Good,” they say, standing up from the table. 

Seungmin gapes at them, confused. "That—that's it? That's all you wanted to ask?” Seungmin questions, watching Jeongin head for the door. 

"Of course,” Jeongin says, hand on the doorknob. "Like you said, I'm not your therapist. As long as you're happy, I'm not going to press you for any details. Goodbye, Seungmin. Congrats on your quad.”

Seungmin doesn't have a chance to say anything back before Jeongin heads out, the door shutting behind them. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Over the next few days, Seungmin does a lot of practicing. He manages to successfully land the quad a couple more times within the span of five days, and by the end of the week his legs burn with every movement. 

He decides to lay off a bit on practice on Friday, and on Saturday he skips practice altogether. His date with Minho is on Sunday, they’re going to be walking around a garden and go to Seungmin’s apartment afterwards. 

Since he has the entire Saturday to himself, he doesn't really know what to do. Most of his alone time is spent practicing, but he can't be tired and sore tomorrow. 

He glances over to his bedroom window. The butterfly orchid is healthy, beautiful blooms brightening up his otherwise simple and monotone apartment. Seungmin’s never been one for symbolism, but maybe Minho is changing that. 

That gives him an idea. 

Seungmin’s never been the best at expressing himself through words—another reason why he chose skating. He tends to go for displays, or performances. Even as a kid, he would make or buy little trinkets to give to his friends and family as tokens of appreciation. 

He doesn't know Minho well, and he doesn't know much of what he likes. He could buy him something, but it seems too superficial. He looks around his room for ideas, and his eyes land on some colorful squares of paper.

Jackpot.

Minho has three cats back in Korea. Their names are Soonie, Doongie, and Dori; and Seungmin has never met them but he's seen pictures. He knows that Minho loves them dearly. 

His origami skills are rusty, but muscle memory saves the day on this one. His fingers delicately fold and crease the papers, years of childhood experience coming to the center of his brain. 

When he's finished, there's three origami cats in front of him, small enough to hold them in the palm of his hand. One is grey, the other two orange. 

He grabs a small box, around the side of his fist. It’s just the right size to store the cats without crushing them, so Minho can safely bring them home. 

It suddenly strikes him how odd his situation is. Here he is, hand crafting a meaningful gift for someone he used to hate with a passion. It's laughable how unconventional he and Minho are. 

Nevertheless, Seungmin continues making his gift. The box is white, so he doodles small cats and flowers on it. In the center, he scrawls Minho's name in practiced hangul. 

Maybe he's doing too much. Surely there's a line somewhere, a hidden boundary, one that he could've already jumped over entirely by mistake. Everything is confusing, he doesn't know the rules. 

Are there even rules? Surely rule number one must say ‘don't date your past rival’ in big red letters, but Seungmin seems to have skimmed over that. What if he messes up? 

He places the box out of sight, to the far corner of his desk so he can give it to Minho when he comes over. His fingers tap against the desk, he's restless and antsy. It's just Minho, why is he so nervous?

It's not just Minho, his brain supplies. Things with him aren't ever just anything, they're simple but they're complicated and it's so easy but it's so, so hard. 

He needs a distraction. He itches to get up and head to the rink, but he can't do that. He told Jeongin to take the keys and refuse to give them to him no matter what. His eyes land on the paper again. 

He folds twenty more origami cats, eighteen origami flowers, and he loses count of how many paper cranes he makes. It's silly, to be sitting here at his desk, so wrapped up in his thoughts that in a period of a couple hours, there's origami littering his desk and even the floor. 

Breaking him out of his thoughts, there's a knock on the door. He knows who it is. "Come in,” Seungmin calls out. 

The door opens. "Holy shit. ”

Seungmin doesn't look over at his guest. There's a half finished origami crane in his fingers, which are trembling as he tries to fold the creases. 

Hands come over his own, gently prying the paper from his hands. "I think it's time you take a break.” 

"Can I at least finish th—” 

"No, Seungmin.” 

Seungmin swallows, watching Hyunjin put his unfinished origami to the side. He knew the older was coming. In fact, he's the one who invited him. 

Hyunjin is originally from Korea, but he transferred to California for middle school and onward. He's lived here ever since. They were best friends in high school, but drifted a bit when Seungmin started doing figure skating full time, and Hyunjin went to university. 

Hyunjin's now a licensed therapist, specializing in art therapy. They don't hang out as often as they used to due to busy schedules, but Hyunjin says he's always free if Seungmin needs a helping hand, especially with his anxiety. 

"I have a date tomorrow,” Seungmin says, his eyes following Hyunjin when the older sits on his bed. "I don't know what to do.” 

Seungmin slides his desk chair closer to the bed, holding his hands out for Hyunjin to squeeze. It's a grounding technique his mother taught him, which he relayed to Hyunjin early in their friendship. 

"That's new,” Hyunjin says, pressing his thumb in circles on Seungmin’s palms. "You haven’t dated in a long time. They must be special, right?” 

Seungmin gulps. "It's Minho.” 

Hyunjin pauses his circles, looking up at Seungmin. "Don't you hate him?” 

"I used to, but things… things are changing,” Seungmin says quietly. "I don't—I don't know. We've gone places together before, I don't understand why I'm this nervous about it.” 

"Possibly because now it's labeled as a date.” 

"That's… that's true.” 

"Do you have romantic feelings for him?” Hyunjin asks simply, and the question is out there. 

Seungmin pulls his hands away, rolling back over to his desk and shuffling around for his half finished origami. "No,” Seungmin answers honestly, "but I feel like I definitely could later. I'm really attracted to him, but it's not… that far.” 

Hyunjin walks back over to him, trying to take his origami again, but Seungmin makes a noise. "It helps me calm down.” 

"Okay,” Hyunjin says, retreating back to Seungmin's bed. "Since when have you started to do stress origami?” 

Seungmin finds his unfinished crane and picks up where he left off, shakily folding one of the wings. "I made paper cats for Minho, and then it got out of hand.” 

"Do you want to show me the cats?” 

"No, I don't.” 

"That's alright. I'm sure Minho will like them.” 

They sit in silence for a little while, Seungmin making two more paper cranes before finally sighing and pushing his origami to the side. "Thank you for coming over. I really appreciate it.” 

"It's no problem, Seungmin, seriously,” Hyunjin says, offering Seungmin a genuine smile. "Do you want to tell me about Minho?” 

Seungmin relaxes into his chair. "Sure.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

The drive to Minho's place is extremely short.

Minho looks really well put together, dressed down for once since it's shockingly warm outside. He's wearing a loose white sweater and black pants, his faded purple hair styled away from his face. There's a brace on his left knee, and he has one crutch under his right arm. 

Seungmin offered to assist him into the car, but Minho simply scoffed and did it himself, albeit struggling slightly. He's always been stubborn like that. 

When they reach the gardens, Seungmin insists on helping Minho this time, to which he is allowed. After helping Minho, he breathes in deeply, looking around at the blooms. 

"This place is gorgeous,” Minho comments, making his way through the entrance. Seungmin follows. "I should've brought my journal.”

"Journal?” Seungmin asks, continuing to follow Minho as they go along the path. 

Minho hums. "I write sometimes, it helps me come up with inspiration for my dances.” 

"You write?” 

"Are you going to keep repeating every word I say instead of asking actual questions?” Minho teases, and Seungmin flushes, looking down at the ground. When he glances back up, Minho is grinning, a certain glint in his eye. 

They continue through the garden, Seungmin stopping every so often to point out a specific flower. Minho frequently takes his phone out, snapping photos and occasionally sneaking pictures of Seungmin. 

At one point while they're walking, Minho stops. "This might be difficult to do with my crutch, but I'm trying it anyway,” Minho says. 

Seungmin is about to ask what he's talking about, but before he can, Minho's hand is extended towards him. His palm is open, inviting, and all Seungmin can do is blankly stare at it. 

"Are you going to hold my hand or not?” Minho complains, waving his hand and raising an eyebrow. 

Without any extra thought, Seungmin takes Minho's hand, lacing their fingers together. Minho's palm is warm, and Seungmin’s hand easily envelops the older's. Experimentally, he squeezes Minho's hand, and receives a squeeze in return. He smiles. 

"You've got very nice hands,” Minho compliments, beginning to walk along the path again. Despite what Minho thought, he has no issue with his crutch, since it’s on the other side. 

"It's because I'm a guitarist.” 

"Wonder what else you can do with those hands.” 

"Minho!”

Minho just laughs, tugging Seungmin closer by his hand. "Sorry, sorry. I had to.” 

Seungmin shakes his head, grinning as his eyes flit to their hands before returning to Minho's face. The apples of Minho's cheeks are dusted rose, and a few loose strands of hair fall into his face. He looks pretty, too pretty. 

"You know,” Minho says, "the media is going to have a field day with this.” 

Seungmin doesn't find it in himself to care. "Let them.” 

"You aren't even openly gay, Seungmin,” Minho says quietly, tightening his grip on Seungmin’s hand. "You aren't worried about what they'll say?” 

Seungmin leans closer and bumps Minho's shoulder with his own. "I've never cared. I do what makes me happy, and if they have an issue with that, that’s their problem.” 

Minho smiles softly, his gaze trained to the flowers around them. Seungmin can't help but study the way sunbeams reflect off of his irises. 

"I wish I was more like you in that aspect. I’ve always been wary of the media,” Minho says quietly, and that's new. Even now, Minho rarely opens up, let alone admits things about his insecurities. "You know, I never felt as free as I did when I was on hiatus.” 

"Maybe your knee acting up was a sign from the world that you need to follow the right path.” 

Minho laughs, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't. You were the sign, Seungmin. You knocked some sense into me, and I'm very thankful for that.” 

Something tugs at Seungmin’s heartstrings. 

Seungmin gets compliments all the time, but this—it’s different. Hearing that he helped someone, someone who used to hate him, causes a steady warmth to seep into his chest. 

"Still,” Seungmin says, “you're the one who followed through. It takes a lot of bravery to do that kind of thing.” 

Minho snorts. "Quitting isn’t brave, Seungmin.” 

"It's extremely brave,” Seungmin argues, tugging on Minho's shoulder a bit so they’re making eye contact. "It's brave, because you made a really hard decision. Sure, the decision improved your life, but you had to take a lot of things into account. You changed your entire life course. It takes bravery. If I had been in that position, I probably wouldn't have made the right decision.”

Minho is silent for a few moments, before stopping in his tracks and facing Seungmin. "Would it be impulsive if I kissed you in public?” 

Seungmin blinks. "It would, but I like being impulsive sometimes.”

At that, Minho removes his hand from Seungmin’s, instead using it to tug Seungmin down by his shirt collar so their mouths connect. 

This kiss is nothing like their first, or their second. It's gentler, warmer, softer. It's the type of kiss fueled by inner emotions and not just mutual attraction, and it's lovely. 

It doesn't last long, though.

Minho is the one to pull away first, laughing softly and readjusting his hold on his crutch. "If the news outlets didn't have anything before, they definitely do now.” 

Seungmin laughs, subconsciously adjusting his shirt collar as Minho's hand finds his again. "I don't mind. I’ll definitely be hearing about it from my friends later, though,” Seungmin muses, beginning to walk again. 

"I can only imagine,” Minho hums. "You know Changbin, right? The speed skater.” 

"Of course.” 

"To make a long story short,” Minho says, “in a way, we have a similar relationship to you and Jisung, except he knows nothing about this entire ordeal.” 

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows, looking at Minho curiously. "How did I not know that? Changbin is one of Felix’s friends. I didn't know we had mutual friends.” 

Minho blinks a few times, then meets Seungmin’s gaze. "I don't know either. Then again, us skaters have similar circles.”

"Makes sense.” 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

The two walk for a little while longer, exiting the garden around half an hour later. They end up stopping for lunch close to Seungmin’s place, exchanging stories and sentiments as they eat. Afterwards, they end up in Seungmin’s apartment. 

"You're very organized,” Minho comments as he enters Seungmin’s room. "Are you always this clean or did you do this for me?”

Seungmin can't help but throw a glare at Minho. "I'll have you know it's always this nice, thank you.” Seungmin does not mention the origami pile he had to clean up earlier that morning. 

Oh, right. The origami. 

"I have something for you,” Seungmin says, heading to his desk and grabbing the small box. “I’m not too great with words, so...” 

Seungmin holds out the box, and Minho stares at it for a few moments before accepting it. “You can sit down, if you want,” Seungmin offers, gesturing to his bed. 

Minho sets his crutch to the side and settles himself on the edge of Seungmin’s bed, and Seungmin takes a seat next to him, nudging him gently with his elbow. “Go ahead, open it.” 

“The box is cute,” Minho muses. “You surprise me more and more every day, you know.” Seungmin wants to question that statement, but he doesn't, instead watching as Minho lifts the lid off of the box. 

“Oh,” Minho says quietly, examining the origami. “It’s my babies.” 

Seungmin laughs softly, amused by Minho's endearment towards his cats. “Do you like them?” 

“I’d be insane if I didn't like them, Seungmin.” 

Seungmin exhales in relief, smiling. 

Minho looks at the origami cats for a little longer before carefully placing them back in the box, setting it to the side. “You know, you said you're not good with words, but I somewhat disagree.” 

“Hm?” 

“A lot of your words have affected me positively,” Minho clarifies. “Even today, when you called me brave. It really made me think.” 

“Oh,” Seungmin says, swallowing the lump that has formed in his throat. “I'm glad I could help you, then.” 

Minho ends up leaving a couple hours later, wanting to leave before it gets dark. Most of their time was spent catching up on each other’s lives, recounting how things have been for the past two years. The time that isn't spent talking is spent making out, but that's neither here nor there. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Former Rivals Kim Seungmin & Lee Minho Spotted On A Date – Read More Here!

American Skater Kim Seungmin Seen Kissing Former South Korean Skater Lee Minho! 

Former Skater Lee Minho Reported To Have A New Knee Injury. Could This Be The Reason Behind His Retirement?

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

Minho shows up to Seungmin’s next practice session. 

Jisung sits next to him on the bleachers, attempting to act annoyed. Really, Jisung is just as excited to watch Seungmin skate as Minho is, but he's still petty that Seungmin is keeping the details of his ‘relationship’ secret. 

Seungmin doesn't attempt the quad axel until the end of the practice session, mainly just running through his routines a few times and receiving surprisingly helpful pointers from Minho. 

Minho, despite not liking skating, is shockingly good at what he does. He doesn't offer much help with the technical aspect of things, but he gives amazing advice on the general presentation of everything. He definitely has the eye of a dancer, which helps Seungmin add more flair to his routine. 

When he moves on to working on his quad, Jisung cheers loudly from the bleachers, and Minho observes silently. The first few attempts fall flat, but he gets up every time, smiling when he sees Jisung shoot him a thumbs up after each attempt. 

He feels more confident now that he's in the rhythm of it, so he feels good about his next attempt. Everything starts smoothly, and he has good momentum when lifting off the ice, just managing all four and a half rotations. 

He lands wrong. 

Pain immediately shoots up his ankle. 

Fuck. 

He falls to the ice, cradling his foot to his chest protectively as tears well in his eyes. Somehow Jisung is already at his side in a few seconds, carefully helping him up and leading him off the ice and to the locker room. Minho follows close behind, helping Seungmin sit on one of the benches. 

Hot tears run down Seungmin’s cheeks as Jisung removes the skate from his right foot, but they're not from the pain. He's crying because he knows what an injury means—at least two weeks off the ice, and that's only if it's minor. This pain feels worse than the time he twisted it, and he's silently praying that he didn't break it. He doesn't even want to think about what that would entail. 

Jisung slips Seungmin’s sock off of his foot, and Seungmin squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to look. He’s barely choking back sobs, and now that the initial shock is wearing off, the pain is starting to catch up to him. 

“Can you move it?” Minho asks. 

Seungmin manages to rotate his ankle in a circle, which is reassuring. He slowly opens his eyes, glancing down at his foot. The area around his ankle is red and swollen, the beginnings of a bruise creeping along his skin. He can't hold back the whimper that escapes his throat, his vision blurring. 

“Good news and bad news,” Jisung says, and Seungmin’s breath hitches. “It's not broken, but we still should take you to the ER. It's pretty bad.” 

At that, a sob finally bubbles up from his chest, and another, and another. Soon enough, he's practically bawling, and he hates that this is happening in front of Minho of all people. 

A pair of arms wraps around his frame, and he instinctively leans into the touch, letting Minho maneuver Seungmin’s head to his shoulder. Fuck the embarrassment, his foot hurts and Minho is warm and he hasn't cried in so, so long. 

“How's the pain?” Minho asks, rubbing slow circles over Seungmin’s back. Seungmin can feel Jisung removing his other skate and slipping Seungmin’s sneakers over his feet. He feels like a child. 

“It's bad, but it's tolerable,” Seungmin says shakily, trying to bite back his sobs and stop himself from crying. “I’m more worried about not being able to skate.” 

Minho hums, not resisting when Seungmin pulls out of his hold. “We should probably go right now,” Minho says, looping an arm around Seungmin’s waist and helping him to his feet. “We can take my car.” 

Jisung doesn't have to be told twice, already grabbing Seungmin’s things for him. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

It's a moderate sprain. 

The doctor told him that the minimum amount of time he would need to stay off the ice is three weeks, and that's only if the healing process goes smoothly. Seungmin is instructed that he needs to wrap his ankle with an elastic bandage and ice it every two to three hours, and keep it elevated whenever he can. For the first few days he needs to try to keep weight off of that foot entirely, and once the swelling starts to go down he can walk on it again but should still avoid using it too much. 

Seungmin pretty much blanks out as he's being told the information, his only thought being that he can't go back on the ice for at least three weeks. He nearly cries again in the emergency room, but he keeps himself composed, not wanting to embarrass himself a second time. 

Jisung takes an Uber back to his own place, and Minho drops Seungmin off at his apartment. Seungmin stays uncharacteristically silent the entire ride there, but Minho doesn't comment on it, turning the radio on to fill the silence. 

When Seungmin enters his room, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Jeongin sitting in his bed. 

“What are you doing here?” Seungmin asks, an ice pack in his hand, attempting to balance on one foot. 

“Jisung texted me,” Jeongin says, sliding over so there's room for Seungmin to squeeze in bed next to them. “He told me what happened. There's some pain meds on the nightstand if you need them.”

“They gave me some at the hospital, but thank you.”

Seungmin crawls into bed, mindful of his injury. He props his foot up on a pillow and wraps the ice pack around his ankle, wincing a little at the cold. He leans back, staring at the ceiling, not saying anything. 

“How are you feeling?” Jeongin asks quietly. 

Seungmin sighs, shutting his eyes. “Horrible,” he whispers. “I’m exhausted.”

“If you want me to leave, I can.” 

“You can stay here,” Seungmin says. “But I’m probably going to take a nap.” 

“Go ahead and do that, I'll take off your ice in around fifteen minutes.” 

“You don't have to babysit me.” 

“You're injured, Seungmin, and I’m your friend. I’m going to help you because that's what friends do, okay?” 

Seungmin huffs. “Fine.” 

“I think I should stay with you for the next few days,” Jeongin adds. “You should be moving as little as possible. I can get things for you and stuff.” 

“If you're going to do all that, at least let me pay you.” 

“As I said, I am your friend, and I want to help you.”

“You're stubborn,” Seungmin grumbles, not bothering to protest anymore. When Jeongin wants something, they get it. 

“Learned it from the best.” Seungmin can hear the smile in Jeongin’s voice. “Now go to sleep. You need the rest.”

“I will, let me just text someone first.” 

Seungmin retrieves his phone from his pocket, and unsurprisingly, there's already a flood of notifications on his screen. He checks Chan’s messages first, giving him the rundown of the situation; then does the same with Felix. Lastly, he opens Minho’s messages. 

from: pretty boy [complimentary?]

i’m sorry that you got hurt. i wish i knew how to help you more. but make sure you follow the doctor’s orders 

but you're diligent so i’m sure you will 

get a lot of rest, okay? 

to: pretty boy [complimentary?]

i'm about to take a nap, so i will 

and don't apologize for my injury. things happen sometimes and all we can do is handle it the best we can 

from: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

i really admire your mindset, kim seungmin 

and hey, look on the bright side. now we match! 

to: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

haha i guess you're right 

i'm really sleepy so i should probably go now 

from: pretty boy [complimentary?] 

i hope you feel better soon

[image attached]

Seungmin breathes out a laugh at the picture, smiling for the first time in a while. It's a photo of Minho with a grape filter on, his face surrounded by bright purple grapes. His expression is neutral, and despite the silly filter, he looks pretty. 

He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb and hands it over to Jeongin so they can put it on his nightstand. Seungmin’s eyelids flutter shut, and he takes a deep breath, his exhaustion immediately catching up to him. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

It's not often that Seungmin feels helpless. 

All his life, he's been diligent, he's worked hard, he's been in control of his life and his goals. He's fairly independent, he can manage things on his own, and he doesn't like accepting help from others because he knows he can do things himself. 

And yet, here he is, unable to do anything on his own. 

For the first few days of his recovery, it's like he has zero control over his own life. Jeongin does almost everything for him, including sitting outside the bathroom while Seungmin showers just in case something happens. He’s never been inside of his apartment for this long. 

Eventually, Seungmin is given the go-ahead to walk on his right foot again, albeit with caution. And, of course, the first thing he does is go to the rink. 

Obviously, he isn't going there to skate; he just needs to get out of his apartment before he goes insane, and he doesn't know where else to go. 

Surprisingly, he meets Minho there. 

The older man is sitting on the bleachers, staring at the ice with a blank expression. He doesn't have his crutch anymore, but his knee is still braced. Seungmin is suddenly all too aware of the bandages wrapped around his own ankle. 

Seungmin carefully ascends the bleachers, settling himself down next to Minho. “Hey,” Seungmin says. Minho startles a bit, but keeps his composure. “What are you doing here?”

Minho shrugs, still looking at the ice. “I came in just to watch. Jisung told me I could stay back if I wanted to. They all left a while ago.” 

Seungmin hums, looking out at the ice. “Sometimes I just come here to think,” Seungmin says. “Like right now. Normally I think while skating, but obviously I can’t do that right now.” 

“How’s your ankle feeling?”

“It's getting better. It's more of an annoyance now rather than something that is actively causing lots of pain. What about your knee?” 

“It's getting a lot better,” Minho says, finally turning to look at Seungmin directly. “You know, I was kind of hoping you'd show up here.” 

Seungmin raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “Really? Why?” 

Minho smiles, looking down at his bag and digging through it. After a moment, he procures a tiny box, slightly reminiscent of the one Seungmin gave him not too long ago. “I wanted to give you this.” 

Seungmin accepts the box, opening it slowly. His eyes widen when he sees what's inside, and the corners of his lips turn up involuntarily. Inside the box is a small origami dog, sloppily made but still cute. It's purple, Seungmin's favorite color. He wonders if Minho knows that. 

“This is really cute,” Seungmin says honestly. “Why a dog, though? Aren't you a cat person?” 

“You just remind me of a puppy,” Minho says, laughing softly when Seungmin’s cheeks turn pink. “There's a note in there too, you should read it.” 

Seungmin locates the note, carefully folded up beneath the origami. He unfolds it, and the paper is quite small, so there's only a few words on it. 

Can I take you on a second date? 

Seungmin can feel his blush deepen, and he looks back up at Minho, whose eyes are practically shining. “You couldn't have just asked out loud?” Seungmin says, fake exasperation in his tone. 

Minho giggles. “I thought you would appreciate the gesture.” 

“I do appreciate it,” Seungmin says, placing the note back in the box and sliding the box into his own bag. “And yes, obviously you can take me on another date.”

“Obviously?”

“What, is it not obvious that I like spending time with you?” 

Minho blinks a few times in rapid succession. “I mean, not really?” 

“Let me make it obvious then,” Seungmin says. 

Before Minho can question him, Seungmin takes hold of the nape of Minho’s neck, pulling him closer until their noses brush together. “This obvious enough for you?” 

“Hm,” Minho hums, one of his hands settling on Seungmin’s jaw. “Not quite. Try a little harder?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes in mock annoyance, but he closes the gap between them anyway, Minho’s plush lips meeting his own in a way that's now become slightly familiar. 

The older’s lips are slightly cold from being in the rink for so long, but Seungmin doesn't mind, pressing closer and deepening the kiss. He swipes his tongue along the seam of Minho’s mouth, tasting chocolate and coffee when he parts his lips. He feels warm all over, his skin burning at every point of contact between himself and Minho. 

Seungmin forces himself to pull away, resting his forehead against Minho’s, suddenly all too aware that they're technically in public. “Can we, um, go to your place?” 

“Sure.” Minho laughs, kissing the corner of Seungmin’s mouth. The action has a foreign feeling stirring under his sternum, a blush rising to his cheeks. 

He doesn't focus on that right now, though. He has better things to worry about. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

He's faced with the feeling head on a few hours later, bundled up in Minho’s clothes, in Minho’s blankets, in Minho’s bed; the smell of rose-scented body wash clinging to his skin. 

Minho is sitting on the end of the bed, carefully wrapping an ACE bandage around Seungmin’s ankle. His hair is still damp from their shower, and a slightly-too-big hoodie sits loose on his frame, making him look smaller than usual. Cute, almost. Something about this situation is doing something to Seungmin’s heart, and he's starting to realize what that feeling he felt earlier was. 

He’s not dumb. He knows what romantic attraction feels like, and this is it. The hard part isn't identifying his feelings, the hard part is figuring out what to do about them. 

Obviously, Minho has to be attracted to him in some way, and not just in the physical aspect. He wouldn't have asked about a second date if he was only physically attracted. 

Does he want Minho to be his boyfriend? Maybe. He doesn't know. He's not exactly experienced in things like this, since most of his life was spent focusing on skating. Are there certain milestones you need to hit before making things exclusive? 

“You're thinking pretty hard,” Minho says, snapping Seungmin out of his daze. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Seungmin says. “Just zoned out a bit.”

Minho shuffles up the bed, lying down next to Seungmin and propping his head up on his elbow. “You don't regret what just happened, right?” Minho’s trying to keep a neutral expression, but Seungmin can see past it. He's worried. 

“No, I don't,” Seungmin says. “Do you?” 

“No.” 

“Then stop worrying,” Seungmin says, both to Minho and also to himself. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.” 

Minho takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking over Seungmin’s features. Seungmin lets him, doing the same, studying Minho’s face up close in a way he hasn't before. Committing each feature to memory. It's nice to exist in this little bubble they've created. 

Seungmin tries to picture what it would be like if he and Minho continued developing their relationship. Seeing Minho like this on a more regular basis, putting time towards something other than figure skating. It's something to consider. 

“Seungmin,” Minho says quietly. “I’m sorry.” 

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes at Minho. “For what?” 

“Everything, I guess,” Minho says, looking away from Seungmin. “Being a dick to you ever since we met.” 

“I mean, I was kind of a dick too.” 

“No, I was constantly rude, and you were just trying to go about your life. You were only ever mean to me when I tried to piss you off.” 

“I hated you though. Isn't that bad enough?” 

“You had a reason to hate me.” Minho looks back up at Seungmin, and Seungmin swears he can see tears forming on Minho’s waterline. “I had no reason to hate you other than jealousy. Instead of looking up to you or admiring your talents, I took out my frustration by belittling you and riling you up. And for that, I’m really fucking sorry.” 

Seungmin frowns, reaching over to wipe Minho’s tears away with his thumb. “That's in the past though. We all have things we regret and aren't proud of, and the best we can do is acknowledge it and work to be better. Clearly, we've worked things out between us, so isn't that what matters?” 

Minho stays silent, and Seungmin sighs. “Come here,” Seungmin says, gesturing for Minho to come closer. He easily obliges, tucking himself under Seungmin’s chin and wrapping his arms around the younger’s waist. Seungmin loops his arms around Minho, just holding him, wanting to be a source of comfort. The scent of roses gets stronger. 

“I hope you know that I do forgive you, Minho.” 

“Thank you, Seungmin.” 

Without thinking too much about it, Seungmin presses a kiss to the crown of Minho’s head. Minho melts in his hold, hugging him tighter, his legs tangling with Seungmin’s. The material of Minho’s knee brace is scratchy against his leg, but he doesn't mind. 

“Are you gonna stay the night?” Minho mumbles, pulling back and making eye contact with Seungmin. 

It's taking every ounce of Seungmin’s control for him to not lean down and steal a kiss. He doesn't want to get distracted while they're talking. “What time is it right now?” 

“Last I checked, it was around six.”

“I'll stay,” Seungmin says, watching Minho’s lips curl into a smile. “What do you want to do now?” 

Minho’s smile quickly turns into a smirk, and Seungmin immediately regrets asking. “Minho, if you say ‘you,’ I’m leaving.” 

“Is that a rejection I’m hearing?” 

“...I never said that.” 

Minho laughs, snaking his arms around Seungmin’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ *ೃ༄

While Seungmin recovers; he spends most of his time either at his apartment, the rink, or Minho’s place. Admittedly, even if he isn't at Minho’s, the older is more often with him than not. 

Despite their promise of a second date, it's not something that happens definitively. They don't label the time they spend together as dates, since it's not like they necessarily plan anything out. Most of their ‘planning’ is meeting each other by chance at the rink, or last minute texts saying ‘come over?’ 

Seungmin wouldn't have it any other way, honestly. 

He likes the impromptu invitations to see each other. He likes knowing that at any time, Minho is there, ready to accept him with open arms. He likes going to the rink and seeing the older man’s silhouette on the bleachers. He likes leaving Minho’s place wearing one of his hoodies, the scent of roses clouding his senses. 

The first thing he does after being told he can go back on the ice isn't going to the rink. It’s going to see Minho. 

By pure coincidence, Minho and Seungmin’s healing timelines matched up fairly well, meaning Minho was also recently cleared to go back to doing his normal activities as long as he was careful. So, when he shows up to Minho’s place with his skating bag in hand, Minho immediately asks if they can go skate together. Obviously, Seungmin says yes. 

As soon as Seungmin steps onto the ice, it's like a weight has lifted off his shoulders. The rink is cold, but Minho’s hand is warm in his, and he finally feels like he's living again. 

“I missed this,” Seungmin says, pulling Minho with him along the ice. 

“Hey,” Minho says, squeezing Seungmin’s hand. “I have a question.” 

“Hm?”

“Have you ever done pair skating?” 

“Uh, I dabbled a little, why?” 

And that's how Seungmin ends up laughing his ass off as Minho twirls him around in the middle of the ice, the older's hands steady on his waist. Minho’s smiling brighter than Seungmin’s ever seen, his cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold, and Seungmin thinks to himself that he could do this everyday. He wants Minho to be a fixed part of his life, wants to see that smile more often, wants to meet Minho at the sidelines every time he finishes a routine. He wants to see where this goes. 

And, well. Seungmin has never been one to wait for what he wants. 

When Minho lowers Seungmin back to the ice, Seungmin stays close, looping his arms around Minho’s neck. “I have a question for you, too.” 

Minho cocks up an eyebrow. “What is it?” 

Seungmin takes a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Minho’s. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

Minho’s eyes widen, then soften, then crinkle at the edges as he breaks into another brilliant smile. Instead of answering verbally, he cups Seungmin’s face in his palms and presses their lips together, both of them smiling into the kiss. After a few seconds, he breaks away momentarily to whisper yes, before meeting Seungmin’s mouth again. 

⸝⸝ ʚ ⛸ ! ⌗ °•  ⎯⎯⎯⎯ EPILOGUE: NEXT YEAR *ೃ༄

It's the last competition of the season. 

He already finished his short program, so all that's left is his free skate routine. Seungmin knows he has to make it count, knows that everyone is expecting the best from him. He knows that Minho is watching from the sidelines, waiting for him once his routine ends. He hopes Minho notices the single strand of silver braided into Seungmin’s hair. 

Once he's on the ice, his mind clears of everything except his routine and the music, the audience’s cheering barely registering in his mind. He gets into position, and as soon as the first note plays, the music takes over. 

The first half of his routine goes smoothly, each jump landed with practiced ease, each step executed exactly how it should, everything playing out the way it plays out in his head. 

His heart starts beating a little faster towards the end, the music escalating, the climax just around the corner. Despite his nerves, everything goes well, and then it's time for what should be his triple axel. 

Should be. 

He knew he wasn't going to attempt a triple axel. No, he was going to do something else entirely. 

The music rises. 

Seungmin takes a deep breath, his blood rushing in his ears, and lifts off from his left forward outside edge.

He counts his rotations in the air. One. Two. Three. Four. Four and a half. 

His right skate hits the ice, landing on the back outside edge of the blade. It takes him a few seconds to realize what just happened, but when it registers in his head, a smile breaks out on his face. 

He just landed the quadruple axel in a competition. 

The rest of the routine moves by in a blur, his heart pounding so loud he almost can't hear the music. The song fades out, and the moment the audience erupts into applause, he skates as fast as he can over to the sidelines. The second he's off the ice, he engulfs Minho in a hug, burying his face in the older’s shoulder. 

“I did it,” Seungmin chokes out, only now realizing there's tears blurring his vision. “Minho, I did it.” 

Minho squeezes him tight, kissing the underside of Seungmin’s jaw. “That you did, Kim Seungmin. You're unstoppable.” 

Seungmin pulls out of the hug, grabbing Minho’s face so he can kiss him, not caring about the huge crowd of people around them. It's not like they don't already know. 

When the kiss breaks, Minho lifts Seungmin the same way he did many months prior, twirling him around in the air with a proud smile on his face. Seungmin laughs, and he thinks that he's never felt happier than he does in this moment, adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

He doesn't know it yet, but back at his apartment, there's a rose-red butterfly orchid waiting for him. 

That doesn't matter right now, though. What matters now is the beautiful man holding him up as if he's holding the whole world in his hands. He'd be wrong, though. 

How could Minho hold the whole world, if Seungmin’s the one holding it?