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The ice skating rink was cold.
It pressed into Sunghoon’s skin all the way to his lungs. It was familiar but really heavy, like greeting an old friend after too long apart. He hadn’t stepped onto the ice yet, but he already felt it.
Beside him, Sunoo stood frozen in place, breath fogging the air as his gaze swept over the vast sheet of glittering white. Under the lights, the rink stretched out quiet and endless, like a pane of untouched glass waiting for the first crack.
“Wow,” Sunoo murmured. “It’s so quiet.”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon said. His lips curled, not quite into a smile, more like nostalgia pressed against the corners. “Been a while since I’ve been here.”
Sunoo tilted his head, curious. “How did you even get this place all to yourself?”
Sunghoon exhaled a slow breath, already tasting the question. “Some things,” he said with deliberate mystery, “are better left unsaid.”
The truth was far less glamorous. He’d just called in a reservation and swiped his card.
Sunoo’s reaction was zero glamorous too. His brows lifted, into a unimpressed-but-too-polite look that screamed oh really? wow.
Sunghoon smiled anyway.
The truth of why they were here was also less glamorous and more surprising.
It had started in the kitchen. Sunghoon was eating a ramen Heeseung had cooked while scrolling absently through his phone when Sunoo’s voice broke in.
“Hyung, are you free this weekend?”
Sunghoon looked up with his mouth full. “No. Why?”
Sunoo blinked. “Wait…you have plans?”
“Sleeping.”
The deadpan answer earned him a blank stare.
“It’s free day, Sunoo-yah.”
Sunoo exhaled, more frustration than air. “Fine. Let me rephrase.” His lips pressed together like the words weighed more than they should. “Can I ask you a favor?”
That froze Sunghoon mid-bite. Sunoo asking for help wasn’t new. But asking him? That was new.
“…What do you need?”
And that was how he’d ended up here.
Because Sunoo had asked. Because Sunoo had chosen him.
He looked at Sunoo. He was practically vibrating with excitement, his shoulders tense with anticipation, even though faint purple shadows smudged under his eyes. He looked tired—Sunghoon noticed—but his smile burned so bright it made the exhaustion easy to miss. Easy, but not invisible.
Sunghoon almost forgot how much he’d wanted to sleep when he saw it.
“So,” he said. “Are you ready to learn some ice skating?”
Sunoo’s head snapped toward him, grin all teeth and light. “Yes.”
Something tugged in Sunghoon’s chest before he smoothed it away with the curl of his lips. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Sunghoon tightened the last lace of the skate with a practiced tug. Years of habit. Smooth, easy, automatic.
He glanced sideways to Sunoo. He was still hunched over his skates, brows furrowed, fingers fumbling with the laces.
“Do you need help with that?” Sunghoon asked.
“No,” Sunoo muttered, yanking harder. “I got it.”
The laces slipped right back through his fingers.
Sunghoon smirked. “Sure you do.”
“I do!” Sunoo snapped, cheeks puffing slightly, refusing to look at him.
“Sunoo-yah. Stop being a baby. Let me help you.”
“I said I—” Sunoo broke off, the stubborn line of his mouth faltering as another knot refused to form. He exhaled sharply through his nose, defeated. “…Fine. But give me instructions. I want to learn.”
Sunghoon raised a brow. “Instructions?”
“Yes,” Sunoo said firmly, finally looking up, eyes bright with determination. “If you’re going to help me, at least tell me what you’re doing. Otherwise I won’t remember for next time.”
Something fluttered in Sunghoon’s stomach at the mention of a next time but he ignored it.
“Alright,” he said. “Lesson one: don’t strangle the laces like you’re mad at them.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes.
Sunghoon slid off the bench, crouching in front of him like it was second nature. And it kinda was, years ago, Sunghoon had laced up skates for kids half Sunoo’s age in exchange for pocket money.
“Actual first step: anchor the tongue. Flat against your ankle, no folds. If it slips, your foot will hate you tomorrow.”
Sunoo bent forward, watching intently, lips pursed in concentration. “Okay. Got it.”
Sunghoon tugged the laces, firm but even, then held them out toward Sunoo’s hands. Their fingers brushed as Sunoo took them. Fleeting. Nothing special. Except Sunghoon felt it linger.
“Now,” he continued, steadying the skate with one hand, “it’s like…threading. It has to be tight but think about it like a secure hug, not strangulation.”
Sunoo huffed a laugh. “That’s your metaphor?”
“Do you want to skate or not?”
Sunoo didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the lace pattern, copying the movements. His fingers slipped again, and Sunghoon instinctively reached to guide them.
Their hands overlapped and his breath caught. He pressed it down, voice even. “Here. Pinch tighter. See? It holds better.”
Sunoo’s brows knitted tighter, tongue poking faintly at the corner of his mouth. He looked… cute. Too cute. And close. Too close, that Sunghoon could smell the faint scent of shampoo brushing against him. It was a different scent. Since when did Sunoo stopped using the old one?
“Better?” Sunghoon asked quietly.
Sunoo nodded without looking up. “Better.”
Sunghoon let go and stood, hovering.
“I think I got it,” Sunoo declared, tugging the knot with exaggerated confidence.
Sunghoon leaned in to check. The tongue was crooked, the knot loose. Whatever it was, it wasn’t surviving.
“You don’t got it,” he said flatly.
Sunoo pouted. “It looks decent though.”
“Not even.” Sunghoon crouched again, tapping the lace. “Here, watch. I’ll tie this one while I explain, then you copy me on the other.”
Sunoo tilted his chin, pretending reluctance, but slid his leg forward anyway.
“Remember. First: anchor the tongue flat. Then—” he tugged evenly, demonstrating—“secure hug. Pinch tighter here, or you’ll lose support.”
Sunoo’s lips moved silently with the words. Grab. Anchor. Secure hug. Pinch. He looked oddly serious, like they were discussing company business.
“There.” Sunghoon double-knotted with practiced flicks. “Solid. Now your turn.”
Sunoo bent over his other skate. “Grab… anchor the tongue…” He glanced at Sunghoon, who nodded in encouragement. “Secure hug… pinch…”
The knot came together. Sloppy, but functional.
“Done.” Sunoo sat back with a triumphant grin.
Sunghoon gave it a quick check. “Solid eight. Good job, Sunoo-yah.”
Sunoo lit up, bowing dramatically as if basking in applause. “Yes! Thank you, thank you.”
Sunghoon’s face tried for annoyed but cracked into a smile anyway.
He stood, extending his hands. “Ready to go to the rink?”
“Yes.” Sunoo reached forward, then paused as his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, screen glowing in the dim light. His expression shifted, unreadable, thumbs moving quick.
Sunghoon tilted his head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Too quick, too casual. Sunoo locked the phone, shoved it away, and grabbed Sunghoon’s hands before silence could grow.
Sunghoon steadied him, brow tightening. “You’re not seriously getting on the rink with your phone, are you? If you fall, it’ll break. And your gloves. Where are your gloves?”
“It’s fine,” Sunoo said, brushing it off with a small smile. “I got it.”
Sunghoon wasn’t convinced. But he let it slide.
Their skates clinked against the floor as they headed to the rink’s edge, blades whispering with every step.
The cold bit sharper once they stepped onto the ice. Sunghoon had queued some background music “for the mood”, and the first notes echoed faintly through the empty rink. The second Sunoo’s skates touched the ice, he wobbled. Instinctively, Sunghoon’s grip on his hand tightened.
“I got it, I got it!” Sunoo laughed breathlessly, windmilling his arms until he steadied himself.
Sunghoon didn’t let go. His brows lifted, skeptical. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“I do,” Sunoo insisted, though his knees bent a little too much to be convincing.
Sunghoon smirked but didn’t call him out further. Instead, he angled slightly ahead, guiding without tugging. “Let’s just skate for a bit. Get familiar with the ice.”
“Yes, sir.” Sunoo mock-saluted with his free hand, nearly tipping over again.
Sunoo was wobbly, but not a disaster. Maybe a 6.5 out of 10. Manageable, but not safe to leave alone. Kinda like when a kid is learning to walk: capable enough, but you stayed near anyway for caution.
Minutes passed in quiet rhythm. Then, out of nowhere, Sunoo said, “You can let go now.”
Sunghoon blinked. His eyes dropped to their still-joined hands, realizing he hadn’t released him since they’d stepped onto the ice. Heat prickled at his ears. He let go quickly, coughing into his fist as if it were nothing.
“…Let’s go,” he muttered, skating ahead a little faster.
They circled the rink, laps folding into laughter and clumsy slips. Then Sunoo piped up again. “Hyung, teach me a trick.”
“A trick?”
“Yeah. Something cool. Something that the ice prince can do.”
The nickname tugged at Sunghoon’s lips. “You’re not ready.”
“Try me.” Sunoo puffed his chest out and attempted a dramatic half-circle only to nearly crash into the wall. He turned back with a grin anyway. “See? I’m totally ready.”
Sunghoon sighed. But screw it, if Sunoo wanted to learn a trick he would learn a trick.
“Fine. Watch.”
He coasted backward, knees bending as he spun into a neat twirl, stopping smoothly right in front of Sunoo. Sharp. Precise. Muscle memory in motion.
Sunoo’s jaw fell slightly open. “Okay, that was kinda hot.”
Sunghoon froze. “What?”
“I said that was kinda hard. Anyway, teach me that spin.”
“Alright.” Sunghoon skated behind him, hands brushing Sunoo’s waist to guide his stance. “It’s about your core, not your feet. Balance centered. Like this.”
Sunoo glanced over his shoulder, lips twitching. “Hyung, if you wanted to hold my waist, you could’ve just asked.”
Sunghoon’s pulse stuttered. Sunoo didn’t notice, already attempting the spin. Messy, wobbly, but upright.
“See? Nailed it,” Sunoo declared proudly, right before drifting sideways.
Sunghoon caught his wrist. “You looked like a penguin learning to walk.”
Sunoo clutched his chest dramatically. “Wow. The disrespect. I give you the honor of teaching me, and you insult me? You are so lucky I’m generous,” He swayed again, and Sunghoon steadied him, again. “Well, we can’t all be cute penguins like you.”
A laugh slipped out of Sunghoon despite himself. The thought flickered, quick but undeniable: Was Sunoo flirting with him?
“Do you want to try again?” Sunghoon asked.
“Yes. I do.”
The second attempt was less tragic, but still clumsy. Sunoo finished with a proud little sing-song, “Ta-dah!”
“Not bad,” Sunoo’s smile widened—until Sunghoon added, “Yet.”
Sunoo groaned and shoved his shoulder, though the push nearly sent him off balance. Sunghoon caught him automatically, their laughter tumbling together with the sound of skates on ice.
And somewhere in that rhythm—the brushes of hands, the easy teasing—it hit him.
This… feels like a date.
Not that he had been on one before, but he had seen some dramas, and it felt like one.
He didn’t know when the thought slipped in, but once it did, it stuck. The way Sunoo looked at him, smiling. The way their hands kept finding excuses to meet. The subtle, undeniable flirting.
Yeah. This had to be a date.
It’s also not like he didn’t knew about Sunoo’s crush in him. He did.
Back in I-LAND, Sunoo’s gaze had lingered too long, his compliments were a little too frequent. And Sunghoon didn’t knew what it meant. Didn’t knew, but never forgot. Until one day Heeseung teased him about it, and suddenly, everything clicked.
So when Sunoo asked for a favor—to learn skating from him, of all people—it made sense.
That’s why Sunghoon had planned this: a late-night rink, just the two of them, music echoing across the quiet.
He wasn’t sure about his own feelings yet. But one thing was clear: if he was going to spend time with Sunoo, he wanted to make it easy for him. Gentle. Comfortable.
But now, he realized it was the perfect cover practice disguised as something else.
And maybe… just maybe… Sunoo had chosen tonight to confess.
He suddenly thought about how he’d respond, to Sunoo’s confession.
Maybe he’d just go with the flow…
A sudden buzz broke the spell. Sunoo pulled his phone from his pocket, and typed back.
Curiosity pricked, but Sunghoon held back. Whoever it was, it couldn’t matter now. Not when this was their moment.
When Sunoo shoved the phone away, Sunghoon forced the lightness back into his voice. “Want to learn another trick?”
“Yep.” Sunoo smiled, eyes crinkling.
“Alright,” Sunghoon said, skating a smooth half-circle around him. “Let’s try something simple. Glide on one foot. Solid base, weight centered. Watch.”
He pushed forward, body cutting clean through the ice, one leg stretched behind him in perfect balance. Graceful, controlled. Very princely.
He nodded toward Sunoo. “Your turn.”
Sunoo mimicked the stance, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth again. He pushed off, lifted one foot and immediately wobbled, arms flailing. Sunghoon reached out instinctively, steadying him with a hand on his elbow.
“Relax. Don’t fight the ice. Let it carry you.”
“Okay. Let me try again.”
And just as he straightened, his pocket buzzed.
“Wait a minute,” he muttered, already pulling his phone free. His thumbs tapped quickly for a reply. “Alright. Now. ”He tried the glide again. It was…messy, a little wobbly but upright.
“Acceptable,” Sunghoon said, lips tugging at the corners. “Again. Smoother this time.”
Sunoo’s eyes lit with determination—until the phone buzzed again.
“Sorry!” he said quickly, fumbling it out once more. Another pause. Another reply.
Sunghoon folded his arms, waiting. He exhaled with a weight of a scolding waiting to happen.
At last, the phone disappeared. “For real this time.”
Sunoo pushed forward, lifted his leg, and this time the glide stretched longer, steadier. His grin broke wide as he coasted to a stop. “Better?”
“Better,” Sunghoon admitted, keeping his voice calm though full of pride.
And that was how it went. Trick after trick, stumble after stumble. Sunghoon demonstrating, catching him when he slipped. Sunoo laughing, parroting instructions, determination to be better at every trick.
Teasing was also involved.
“I’m starting to think you only hold my hand so I trip.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“HYUNG, NO—GET BACK HERE!”
Sunghoon’s laughter echoed across the empty rink. Sunoo shot him a side-eye.
“Why does it feel like you enjoy making me panic more than teaching me?”
“Because it’s fun.”
And between it all, there was that damn phone. Lighting up Sunoo’s face, pulling him away in bursts of silence. Each time he was too quick to reply, and each time it tugged at the edge of Sunghoon’s patience.
After a while, Sunoo asked Sunghoon to recap the second trick he’d taught. And Sunghoon obviously agreed.
“Okay,” Sunghoon said, steady, patient. “You can do this. Remember, weight forward, arms relaxed, and let the glide happen. Don’t rush it. Patience.”
Sunoo nodded, murmuring under his breath, “Weight forward, relax, easy.” He pushed off, lifted his foot, held steady for half a heartbeat—but then his ankle betrayed him.
He would’ve hit the ice if not for Sunghoon’s hand snapping out to catch him. But Sunghoon’s balance faltered too, and they both went down in a tangle.
Sunghoon hit the ice first, the impact jarring through his back, thankfully he didn’t really felt the impact, being used to falling all those times he went to competitions and practice. Sunoo fell squarely on top of him.
They froze like that. Sunoo clinging, Sunghoon holding firm. Their faces too close.
Sunoo’s heart thundered from the near-crash; Sunghoon’s raced for reasons he didn’t dare to name. He looked at Sunoo, really looked, and the thought struck him, sharp and sudden: he’d never noticed how pretty Sunoo was before.
And in that instant, Sunghoon realized: maybe he didn’t need to “go with the flow” when Sunoo confessed. Maybe he already knew his answer.
“I almost died,” Sunoo blurted.
“Yeah, you did,” Sunghoon said, his voice rougher than he meant. Then, softer, almost reluctant: “You scared the shit out of me.”
Sunoo’s nervous laughter bubbled out. “I’m sorry. I lost my balance.”
Sunghoon’s grip eased, though his gaze stayed searching. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, hyung. I’m fine.” Then, gentler: “Thank you for catching me.”
“You’re lucky I was paying attention,” Sunghoon muttered. “If not, you’d be flat on your face.”
That made Sunoo laugh, probably out of nervousness. “That would’ve been tragic, wouldn’t it? Is your back okay?”
“Yes,” Sunghoon deadpanned. “Though I saw the whole ‘Hello, this is BE:LIFT entertainment’ message flicker twice.”
Sunoo cracked up, head tipping back, laughter spilling across the rink. The sound of it pulled a grin out of Sunghoon too, fangs flashing.
“I like your laugh,” he admitted before he could think better of it.
Pink bloomed across Sunoo’s cheeks. “Well… I like your fangs.”
Sunghoon blinked. “Really?”
“Really. Tell me the truth, hyung.” Sunoo’s eyes glittered mischievously. “Are you actually a vampire? I won’t tell anyone, promise.”
Sunghoon tilted his head, a sly smile curving his lips. “Didn’t I tell you, Sunoo-yah, that some things are better left unsaid?”
Sunoo’s lips parted, ready to spit another teasing reply when his phone buzzed. Again.
He shifted off Sunghoon, kneeling, fumbling the device out with practiced urgency. His thumbs were already flying across the screen.
And that was it. Something in Sunghoon snapped.
With a sharp, decisive motion, he plucked the phone straight out of Sunoo’s hands.
“Yah!” Sunoo yelped, scandalized. “Give it back!”
Sunghoon held it just out of reach. “You want your phone back? Then come get it.”
Before Sunoo could react, Sunghoon pushed smoothly off the ice, gliding away with his phone still in hand.
“Hyung!” Sunoo’s voice echoed across the rink, half outrage, half disbelief.
Sunghoon spun lightly, tone teasing. “If you want your phone back, you’ll have to catch me.”
And Sunoo tried. He really tried. But every time he was close, Sunghoon would veer out of reach with effortless precision.
“Yah!” Sunoo shouted, laughter tangled with annoyance. “You’re doing this on purpose!”
“Of course I am,” Sunghoon shot back smugly, skating backwards now just to show off.
Sunoo pushed harder, nearly caught his sleeve, but Sunghoon twisted away again, still grinning, still untouchable. The game stretched on until finally Sunghoon slowed down, letting Sunoo think he’d caught up. Except he hadn’t. With one swift move, Sunghoon shifted, pulling him close so Sunoo’s chest collided with his own.
Sunoo gasped at the sudden closeness but his hands strained for his phone. “Give it back!” he demanded, wriggling in his arms.
Sunghoon steadied him with ease, one hand firm at his waist, the other holding the phone high above his head. “Not until you answer me something.”
Sunoo’s eyes flashed with impatience. “What?”
“Why did you ask me to teach you how to skate, Sunoo-yah?”
“Why do people ask to learn things?” Sunoo snapped, as if it were obvious. “Because I wanted to learn, hyung.”
Sunghoon leaned down slightly, voice firmer. “You already know the basics. You’re not a pro, but you’re solid on the ice. You didn’t really need to learn. So… why?”
“Because,” Sunoo muttered, breath uneven, reaching again, “Please, give me my phone back.”
Sunghoon wanted to crash out, toss the phone out of reach and pin Sunoo against the wall until he got answers. But the wall in Sunoo’s expression was unyielding. He wasn’t getting anything from Sunoo this way. So, with a long sigh, he relented, lowering his arm and pressing the phone into Sunoo’s palm.
Sunoo didn’t hesitate. He unlocked it, and answered so fast his thumbs seemed like they were flying, then tucked it away as if he weren’t pleading a few seconds ago.
“Is that the manager?” Sunghoon asked, carefully.
“No. It’s… someone else.”
Sunghoon’s voice slipped colder, more teacher than friend. “I don’t mind you using your phone, Sunoo-yah. But when I’m teaching you, I’d like you to actually concentrate.”
Sunoo’s head dipped, guilt flashing in his face. “I’m sorry. Really. I asked you to postpone your plans just to help me and then I—” His voice cracked, rushed. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon-hyung. Truly.”
Sunghoon exhaled, gentler this time. “If it’s urgent, it’s fine. But I would’ve liked it if you told me beforehand.”
Sunoo shook his head, a bitter little laugh escaping. “It’s not urgent. It’s stupid, really.”
Confusion flickered across Sunghoon’s face. “What do you mean?”
Sunoo hesitated. “It’s… the texts. It’s the same reason I asked you to teach me how to skate.”
Sunghoon’s pulse stumbled. Something in the air shifted, he could feel it. Sunoo’s breath hitched. His eyes avoided his. His hands trembled.
This was it. This was the moment. Sunoo was about to confess.
“I’m seeing someone,” Sunoo whispered.
That…was not the confession Sunghoon was waiting for.
I’m seeing someone.
Sunghoon’s chest tightened, but all that came out was: “Oh.”
The silence stretched, thick and cold. He felt a sting under his ribs, raw and unwelcome. Still, he reached for humor.
“As in… like a ghost? Or dating someone?”
“Dating,” Sunoo said, flat. No smile, no laugh.
Sunghoon nodded, pretending casual. Pretending the words hadn’t just lodged in his throat like glass.
“How long have you been seeing each other?” His tone came out careful, too careful.
“A couple months,” Sunoo replied. “We’ve been talking about going on an actual date, and one of the options he gave…”
Sunghoon heard it—the he. Sharp as a blade.
“…was ice skating,” Sunoo continued. “And I thought… well, I didn’t wanted to look like an idiot in front of him.”
Something twisted in Sunghoon so hard it almost made him laugh. You’re worried about looking like an idiot for him? What about me? You act like that in front of me a thousand times.
He forced a smirk. “You? Embarrassing on the ice? Nah. Impossible.”
He waited for the shove, the “yah!” But Sunoo only looked at him, wide-eyed.
“Am I really that bad?”
Sunghoon didn’t joke this time.
“No. You’re good. A little wobbly, maybe… but good.”
And the ache sharpened into something uglier. He likes me. He always liked me. Who is this guy?
The sting under his ribs had two faces. One he couldn’t name, and one he knew to well: jealousy.
Jealousy gnawed at him. It wasn’t that Sunoo was his, he couldn’t claim that, but Sunoo was his Sunoo. The one who trailed after him, laughed at his dad jokes, would look at him as if he hung the moon in the sky.
Mine. My Sunoo. Not his. Never his.
“Is he an idol?” Sunghoon asked before he could stop himself.
“He’s in the industry.”
Sunghoon’s stomach dropped. Idol, staff, manager, it didn’t matter. Whoever he was, Sunoo was answering his texts like they were holy, handing him attention that used to belong here. With him. Always with him.
What does he have? What is he giving you that I can’t? Two heads? Theee arms?— am I already replaced?
The jealousy hissed ugly questions in his head, each one sharper than the last. He shut them down before they spilled out, but they kept buzzing like angry bees under his skin.
“Is he—”
“I don’t really want to talk about him,” Sunoo cut in quickly, almost pleading.
For a moment, Sunghoon froze. Denied. Shut out.
But then Sunoo added, softer: “I just… don’t want to jinx it. I want to keep it private as much as I can.”
And against his better judgment, Sunghoon understood.
He let the questions rot in his chest, heavy and sour, and instead reached out to ruffle Sunoo’s hair. “Our Sunoo-yah is all grown up, huh?”
“Shut up,” Sunoo muttered, batting his hand away.
Sunghoon grinned, fangs flashing. But the grin didn’t reach his chest, where everything still burned. “Okay, okay. Let’s keep going.”He pushed himself farther across the rink, needing to place some space between him and Sunoo.“You’ve got to impress that boy, don’t you?”
Sunoo’s shy smile nearly unraveled him.
“But I’m keeping the phone,” Sunghoon declared, palm out.
Sunoo hesitated but surrendered it anyway.
Sunghoon pocketed it like a prize, like a shield, like proof he could still claim something. Something that was Sunoo’s.
He slipped into his teacher’s voice. “Alright. From the top. And this time, don’t rush your steps.”
Sunghoon seemed possessed. He was on a roll now, there was no hesitation, no gentleness left in him. Every correction came sharp, every instruction clipped, all wrapped in the same excuse: “Do you want to impress that guy or not, Sunoo-yah?”
But really, it was armor. A way to channel the ache into something he could control. A way to keep distance. If Sunoo had someone else now, surely he wouldn’t want to linger too close to another man… right?
Sunoo, was tired, panting so hard he almost couldn’t breathe after another failed attempt. He just allowed himself to collapse against the rail.
“Hyung, I’m tired. Please.” He plead.
“It’s getting late anyway. We should go.”
The glare Sunoo shot him could have killed, eyes almost popping out. “Please.”
Sunghoon sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Rest.”
Silence followed. The kind that left Sunghoon with nothing but the sound of his own thoughts. Will you pull away from me now, just because of him?
He couldn’t sit with it. So he tried to concentrate in somewhere else. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to listen. Listen to the sounds around him. And then—there it was.
The music. His lips curved before he could stop them. That song. His song. The one he’d chosen for his last competition before I-LAND swallowed him whole.
The first notes pulled him, muscle memory humming through his veins. His body moved before his mind could catch up. The blades moved against the ice, and his arms cut through the air. He spun, leapt, glided, each motion pouring out the ache, and the weight of everything he couldn’t name. In that moment, there was no Sunoo, there was no mysterious “industry guy,” no jealousy. Only the music. Only the ice. His dearest and oldest friend. The part of himself he never quite lost and will never lost.
The music came to and end and he strucked his finishing pose. Chest heaving, lungs burning, as if he was waiting for an applause.
An applause that never came.
When he turned, Sunoo was staring. Wide-eyed. Silent. Eyes shiny.
Sunghoon frowned, stepping closer. “What is it? Are you okay?” Nothing. “Sunoo-yah?”
A blink. A rapid shake of his head. Sunoo’s voice cracked when it finally emerged. “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just… You looked—”
He faltered, eyes darting, as if he could hide from whatever he’d almost said. Torn. That’s what Sunghoon saw. Sunoo looked torn in a way he didn’t understand.
“…you looked at home.” The words tumbled out with a frustrated exhale. “I don’t know how else to explain it. You just… yeah.”
Sunghoon froze, the weight of it all pressing against his chest.
Sunoo continued talking, as if he didn’t do it he would drown. “It’s fascinating, really. How you hardly skate anymore but the second you do, your body just remembers. It’s—honestly, it’s frustrating. You barely practice, and you’re still brilliant, and the worst part is that you know you’re brilliant, so you show off.” A small laugh escaped him, real and reluctant. “But… I can’t even be mad at it because to be honest, I would show off too.”
Something in Sunghoon’s chest urged him forward.
“I really like… seeing you skate.”
Sunoo’s words made him stop.
His lips parted, he could feel the weight loose, he was ready to speak…
But Sunoo flinched, retreating into his own voice. “It’s getting late, right? We should go.”
And just like that, the moment shattered.
They sat shoulder to shoulder on the bench, tugging at their shoe laces.
“Hyung,” Sunoo said suddenly. “Thank you for helping me. Really. I know I’m not the easiest, but… thanks for having me patience.”
Sunghoon glanced over, lips quirking. “You don’t have to thank me, Sunoo-yah. I’m your hyung, right? Taking care of my dongsaengs is part of the job.”
Sunoo huffed, probably ready to argue, but Sunghoon spoke first.
“Skating. I told you you’re not bad at it. And you aren’t. Actually… if you stick with this, if you really practice, you could be very good.”
“Really?” Sunoo’s eyes widened, open and earnest.
“Yeah.” Sunghoon’s voice dipped lower, just for him. “And if you ever want to learn another thing or two… I’m here.”
For a beat too long, Sunoo just looked at him, lips parting like he might say something more. But instead, he murmured, “Thanks, hyung.”
And because silence was not really safe for him this time. Sunghoon filled it.
“This guy you’re seeing. He won’t even know what hit him. The minute you pull those tricks, he’ll be baffled.” His voice was sincere, steady, like he truly believed it, like he wanted to believe it for Sunoo’s sake.
Sunoo’s laugh came a beat late, softer than it should have been. “You’re being ridiculous,” he said, the words light, teasing, but carrying a weight neither of them acknowledged.
Their knees brushed. Neither of them moved. A flicker of warmth lingered in that touch, something that could have been dismissed as nothing. Yet Sunghoon didn’t shift away, even as his chest went tight; and Sunoo didn’t either, his gaze dipping before snapping back up to catch Sunghoon’s for a breathless second.
It should’ve broken there, but it didn’t.
Instead, Sunghoon cleared his throat, mustering a smirk. “Just… no phone next time.”
He lifted his pinky. Sunoo giggled, bright and easy. He lifted his pinky too, lacing it with Sunghoon’s.
“Noted.”