send in the clowns (for EVERYONE) [2/2]

[critcapmods.livejournal.com]

“Joonmyun!” Lu Han doesn’t seem to have changed from what Joonmyun can see as he slides into the booth opposite him. Aside from his now bright pink hair, he still has that rosy complexion and that smile that always looks like it’s going to break his face. He also looks less like the wind is going to blow him away. His arms are fuller and he looks healthy, which makes Joonmyun happy. “Hey!” Joonmyun greets. He’s about to ask where Minseok is, when the aforementioned guy, with shocking short platinum hair appears and sits beside Lu Han. He places three drinks on the table. Isn’t it too early for beer?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Never too early for a celebration,” Minseok tells him with a wink, pushing his replica glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And you being back is definitely cause of one,” Lu Han finishes. It’s really like nothing has changed. Lu Han and Minseok still finish each other’s sentences like they’ve known each other since they were born. Close enough, though. They’ve known each other since they both started figure skating, along with Joonmyun. They were all together in their junior years. They catch up like Joonmyun hadn’t avoided seeing them in the last three years he’s been back in Seoul for the South Korean Figure Skating Championships. It’s not like Lu Han and Minseok both continued figure skating after Joonmyun had left the sport; in fact, both of them had decided to move on to things that aren’t even really connected to skating. Lu Han had pursued his love for baking; while Minseok had gone on to get his law degree. But Joonmyun’s always felt embarrassed somehow, for some reason, and thought he couldn’t face them when he’d failed. “How’s Soojung?” Minseok wants to know, taking a big gulp of his beer. It really is too early for beer, being only four in the afternoon, but Joonmyun grins at him. “Good,” Joonmyun tells them, leaning forward on the table. “She wanted to come by the way, but she got herself on lockdown until the competition here is over.” Krystal is poised to go head-to-head with Yuna in two days and she’s taking it very seriously because this could be one of the many highlights of her career. Kim Yuna isn’t Queen Yuna for nothing. “And how are you guys doing?” Minseok wiggles his eyebrows up and down. There was a time that such teasing would make him blush to the roots of his hair, if only because he thought the world of Krystal. Joonmyun still does. But it’s not the same. Not when Joonmyun thinks the heaven of Jongdae. He shrugs. “If anything, I’m glad she still accepted me as her friend,” Joonmyun admits. He and Krystal had never really defined their relationship in the past. The kisses spoke for themselves. Lu Han scoffs into his beer, sending bubbles spewing on the table. Minseok shoots him a look as Joonmyun leans back a bit. Joonmyun watches as their fingertips linger on a bit longer when Minseok hands Lu Han a tissue paper. “Krystal thought the world of you,” Lu Han tells him, echoing Joonmyun’s own sentiments. “Of course you broke her heart, but you forgive if only to preserve a little bit that wasn’t destroyed.” Joonmyun worries his lower lip. He didn’t know exactly what happened when he left. But the moment that he was certain that he was going to stop skating, he decided to leave everything that reminded him of skating as well. His relationship with Krystal was one of the casualties. They never spoke about them even when Joonmyun was telling her his goodbyes. Krystal had cried through her smiles and wished him well. “Thank you for looking out for her.” Joonmyun smiles at Lu Han and Minseok, close-lipped, in a way that doesn’t even encompass his gratefulness for having them take care of her in his absence. Minseok waves dismissively. “She didn’t need it,” he reminds her. “We hardly did anything.” Six months later, Krystal was in Toronto to skate under Brian Orser, much to Joonmyun’s surprise. It was where he went away to maybe start over. But meeting her there brought him right back to where he said he was never returning again. Krystal was the reason why Joonmyun met Jongdae again. “Anyway,” Lu Han announces, slapping his hand on the tabletop. “Past is past, right? What’s important is the present.” He grins at Joonmyun like he knows something. Joonmyun shifts in his seat as Lu Han leans across the table. “How’s Kim Jongdae doing?” Joonmyun swallows, pulling his hands off the table to place them on his lap, and sucks in an inaudible breath. There’s no way that anyone knows; he hasn’t told anyone. Krystal only found out because she’s perceptive that way and because she knows Joonmyun more than others do. But, other than her, no one knows. No one should. “He’s… good,” Joonmyun says, going for the professional route. “His skating has improved from last season. I think he’s more determined now, more than ever, to get the gold medal.” His back is pressed on the seat, feeling like he’s cornered. “C’mon, Joonmyun,” Lu Han continues, smirk growing bigger. “We know he’s a good skater. How was your date in Paris?” Minseok chuckles when Joonmyun turns bright red. “How—“ Joonmyun chokes. He furrows his brows and lets out a breath. “Do you—did Soojung tell you?” He can’t think of anyone else who would keep Lu Han and Minseok updated like this. Brian Orser certainly isn’t buddy-buddy with them. “We’ve remained friends throughout the years,” Lu Han tells him, his smile annoying enough that Joonmyun’s hand twitches a little in the want to slap it off. “She likes updating us with what’s going on with her.” “But Jongdae and I have nothing to do with her,” Joonmyun blurts out. Minseok laughs a little and shakes his head and Joonmyun feels the uncertainty creep up on him like cold goo. “On the contrary,” Minseok mutters with a knowing but sad smile. “You underestimate how much she cares about you.” Krystal had introduced Joonmyun to Jongdae, reconnecting two friends who haven’t seen each other in years, Jongdae rising up the ranks, while Joonmyun fell off the radar. Krystal always invited him to go out and Jongdae always tagged along. Krystal and Jongdae trained together until such time came that Brian hired him to be one of the assistants. They went out together, ate meals, watched movies, and toured Toronto together. Eventually, Krystal became busier and busier and she started missing their outings, until she completely stopped going with them. Joonmyun opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. How could he have not known? How could he ever apologize to Krystal and repay her for what she’s done for him? For giving way, for letting go of her pride and feelings for his. Joonmyun thinks that anything short of returning her feelings would be adequate, and he can’t give her that. The more painful thing is that she knows this. Krystal has known this all along and she did it anyway. “You do know that she doesn’t care, right?” Lu Han nudges Joonmyun’s foot with his own. “I mean she’s okay now. She’s moved on so you don’t have to worry about that.” “I don’t know what to say,” Joonmyun breathes out. And he really doesn’t. There is nothing he can say. “There’s nothing to say,” Lu Han responds. “Just be happy. That’s what she wants for you.” He quirks an eyebrow up. Being happy means a confession, telling Jongdae how he feels, how he’s always felt all these years. But that would be unprofessional. Joonmyun is an assistant coach and breaking that trust could get him fired. Even if it didn’t, Jongdae could feel like Joonmyun’s taken advantage of their friendship all these years. It could mean losing Jongdae. Even if he didn’t lose Jongdae, there’s nothing else that Jongdae sees. Figure skating is his life. All Jongdae wants is to be the best figure skater he can be. Joonmyun isn’t sure how he can fit into that dream. Joonmyun can be happy without telling Jongdae that he’s in love with him. He’s been doing it and managing for four years. He can do it for four more, at the very least, if it means watching Jongdae achieve him being his best in figure skating. “I think,” Joonmyun begins in measured tones. “That this, what we have right now, is okay. There is nothing more I can ask for.” Lu Han looks at Joonmyun with something akin to pity and Joonmyun looks away, staring at his hands on his lap. Even friends he hasn’t seen in years can see through the lie. Joonmyun doesn’t know how he lives with it, but he’s managed to everyday until now. “Don’t you think it’s about time you ask for more than just okay?” Minseok beats Lu Han in asking the question. Joonmyun’s phone beeps just as Minseok continues. It’s Jongdae. “What if it works out?” What if? Joonmyun asks himself as he traces Jongdae’s name on his screen. Joonmyun doesn’t confess. Why ruin a good thing? Granted that it’s not exactly good the way Joonmyun wants it to be, he’s still not going to go and tell Jongdae that he loves him when it could mess up what they have. He’d rather have Jongdae like this than not at all. Joonmyun won’t risk not having Jongdae in his life. So he distances himself. He hangs out with Jinseo and Junhyoung the whole time they’re in Sochi, actually helping them out and not just pretending to coach them. Whenever Jongdae asks for him, Joonmyun pleadingly delegates some of his tasks to the other assistants (none of whom refuse because Joonmyun is always so kind), sometimes even to Chanyeol, and tells Jongdae that he’s busy with paperwork and with handling the team’s press commitments. Even when Jongdae throws something like a tantrum, Joonmyun doesn’t budge. Not this time. He needs the space to breathe and to make sure that he’s not going to do anything rash, that he’s not going to go and do something that might ruin the carefully put up façade he’s had around Jongdae all these years. Jongdae needs Joonmyun, his friend and assistant coach, not Joonmyun, the boy who’s been madly in love with him. He doesn’t talk to Krystal either. It’s not because he doesn’t want to; he just doesn’t know how to. After all this time, she still manages to surprise him and still manages to make him feel special in a way that makes him feel lucky. Krystal is picky with friends; she’s even pickier with whom she dates. Joonmyun really was lucky to have been her choice once upon a time. He still is lucky to be her friend. Jongdae’s irritation is noticeable with how he practically snaps at everyone who comes close to him that isn’t Joonmyun. Joonmyun observes as Jongdae seemingly struggles without him by his side. He almost gives in when Chanyeol unintentionally gives Jongdae food that has an ingredient that he’s allergic to, but stops himself when Jongdae shuts the door when he makes a move to follow him to his room. Joonmyun’s gaze is intent on Jongdae as he practices his routine for the short program, sitting in a part of the bleachers near the exit. He tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, even wearing all black in his hopes not to be noticed. Jongdae is having problems, though, his movements not up to par as his usual and Joonmyun notices Brian trying to pacify Jongdae, as he gets frustrated. “Whatever it is that you’re trying to accomplish, I think you’re failing.” Joonmyun jumps when Krystal plops down beside him. She’s wearing her performance clothes, sparkling red, that suits her long, dark hair. Joonmyun wonders if she’ll wear it down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joonmyun mutters, staring at his hands. His nails have gotten longer. He should really cut them—Krystal grabs both his hands and squeezes them to make him look at her. “I know what you’re trying to do.” Krystal is always so straightforward, sometimes to the point that people misconstrue it as being offensive and rude. But she is only ever honest. Joonmyun has always appreciated that about her. “It’s really not working,” she goes on. “If anything, it’s just making him and everyone else miserable, you included.” Joonmyun looks at the way their hands are clasped together. He’s always been a bit fairer than she was, Krystal tanner, being an outdoor kind of girl, constantly out in the sun. Her fingers are slender and pretty in contrast to his thicker and stubbier ones. But they fit; their hands fit together. They have always fit in all ways, Krystal with her more outgoing personality and Joonmyun with his more conservative one. She’s never failed to fill in the gaps of his silences with her stories and melodic laughter. He was the patient one, content with what he has, while she was the eager one, looking for adventures and going for her dreams. They complemented each other so well that Joonmyun truly felt the loss when he left Seoul, when he left her. “Soojung,” he starts softly, turning their hands so that hers were the ones on top. She really has lovely hands, so he lifts them up to his lips, eyes finally meeting hers. “Don’t,” Krystal interrupts him. She pulls her hands away, placing them first on her lap and then pocketing them when they continue trembling. “We’re beyond apologies.” Joonmyun swallows at the unfairness of that statement. Krystal deserves an apology from him, one that is four years too late. “I appreciate that you think that,” he says, sounding like he’s making too much of an effort to get his words out. It’s even more difficult to say things when you know you’ve hurt someone and you never made it right immediately. “But I can’t do that. I should have said something, should have apologized, a long time ago, back when we saw each other again in Toronto, maybe even earlier than that. I should have…” He trails away and takes a deep breath and stuffs his own hands in his jacket pockets. “Well,” Krystal responds, pausing her when voice comes out shaky. “I appreciate that and I accept.” She leans back on the next bleachers step and inhales then exhales. “I was never mad at you, Joonmyun. Sure, it hurt,” she says, chuckling to ease the seriousness of her words. “But I understood. You did what you had to do for yourself. Who was I to stop you?” “I never wanted to make you feel like you didn’t mean anything to me,” Joonmyun says, turning in his seat to face her, even when she looks straight ahead. Jongdae has just restarted his routine. “You were everything to me,” he says and hopes that she understands just how much she meant to him, how there was a time in his life when he thought he couldn’t be Joonmyun without Soojung. “You still mean… a lot to me—Soojung, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t mean to—I never want to.” He’s scrambling for words to explain how valuable she is and how he is so sorry for doing this to her, for falling in love with someone else by her hands, as if that was her intention. “I know.” Krystal has her head bowed, her hair forming a curtain around her face. If Joonmyun didn’t know her well, he wouldn’t think much of it. But Joonmyun does know her and he knows that she’s crying. But instead of putting an arm around her and pulling her close so he could wipe her tears away like he wants to, he clenches his fists tightly inside his pockets. It’s not the right thing to do. It wouldn’t be fair to comfort her when he’s the source of her tears. Joonmyun shifts in his seat and leans back on the next step as well. He keeps his eyes on his lap, on the creases of his pants, how the cloth overlaps. Krystal is trying to be as quiet as she can, but Joonmyun can hear her sadness even with the way she keeps her feet together and with the rustle of her dress when she moves ever so minutely on her seat. Joonmyun wishes there was something he could do, but he knows that he’s done enough. He tries to focus on something else, in the way that the air suddenly feels so humid or the way he’s shoelaces are unraveling or the fact that Jongdae is going through his routine for the fourth time. Joonmyun shakes his head. He can’t think about Jongdae right now. Not when he’s not sure when he’s apologizing to Krystal for his feelings for him. “Don’t,” Krystal suddenly speaks up and Joonmyun whips his head to look at her. Her hair is tucked behind her ears, face clear of tears, although her eyes are red-rimmed. “I can hear you thinking,” she tells him, shaking her head. There’s a small smile on her face and Joonmyun tentatively smiles back. “Don’t be sorry for falling in love with Jongdae. That’s one thing you shouldn’t be sorry for. You shouldn’t be guilty for feeling that way. You didn’t cheat on me. We already broke up.” She pauses and chuckles, her eyes turning into crescents. “Well we weren’t actually together together so…” Shrugging, she runs her fingers through her hair. “You’re my first love, Soojung,” Joonmyun croaks when he says it, the emotion surging through him, but he means it. Just because he’s never said it, doesn’t make it any less true. Krystal smiles and it’s genuine. Joonmyun can’t see a hint of resentment in her features as she cups his face. “You’re mine, too,” she whispers and, even when there’s a trace of regret in her tone, Joonmyun can also hear the delight in it. They had a good thing, even if it didn’t last forever. “Always will be.” “Well you can only have one first love, after all,” Joonmyun says, laughing as Krystal slaps his cheeks before taking her hands back to her lap. Krystal sighs, the smile on her face is bigger. The lines on her shoulders are relaxed. She’s beautiful, Joonmyun thinks. He hopes that she finds someone who will make her happy. “I’m serious, Joonmyun,” she says. “Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for being in love with Jongdae. You’re allowed to be happy, too. Stop thinking of other people for a change.” It’s only then that Joonmyun finally looks up to actually watch Jongdae skate through his routine. Jongdae goes through a series of complicated footwork, one that he’s been practicing relentlessly, into a quad, which is a jump he has perfected, but fumbles with right then. Joonmyun can’t help but stand up in concern as Jongdae falls, his hands catching him just in time. Jongdae’s hands will be bruised. “He never remembers to wear his gloves,” Joonmyun mutters to no one in particular. “Do yourself a favor and start talking to him again,” Krystal tells him, almost insistently, as she stands up as well. “You’re both torturing yourselves unnecessarily.” “I’m not—“ Joonmyun starts but cuts himself off at the knowing look that Krystal gives him. “Be happy, Joonmyun,” Krystal says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Whatever that means for you.” Joonmyun watches her walk away until she disappears through the exit. He continues staring in gratitude even when it’s been a couple of minutes since she’s left. Joonmyun knows what Krystal is saying. It’s the same thing that Lu Han and Minseok suggested to him, the very thing that made Joonmyun stay away from Jongdae. He looks up to check on Jongdae’s progress in his practice and finds that the music is still playing, but Jongdae has stopped skating at all. Jongdae is just standing there, unmoving, fists clenched, looking intently at Joonmyun. Suddenly, there are many things Joonmyun wants to say but before he can settle on one thing, Jongdae has turned around and has skated off the ice. For some reason, Jongdae makes it easy for Joonmyun to avoid him the following days. It’s almost as if Jongdae goes out of his way so that Joonmyun wouldn’t spend so much effort in trying to dodge him. Even when Joonmyun goes to Jongdae’s practices, even when the South Korean team gets together for meetings or meals, Jongdae sits right by Brian or Chanyeol and Yuna, much to their confusion; Jongdae and Yuna barely talk. It’s not fair to Jongdae, Joonmyun thinks, when he’s mulled things over some more. It’s not Jongdae’s fault that Joonmyun fell in love with him and has all these feelings bottled up to a point that it’s in danger of exploding. So Joonmyun tries to be a little less like a child and approaches Jongdae just before he’s set to skate his short program. “Jongdae,” Joonmyun calls, a light touch on his arm to make him stop walking. Jongdae almost topples over in his surprise that Joonmyun doesn’t hesitate to grab his shoulders to keep him steady. “What do you want?” Jongdae asks when his two feet at stable and pushes Joonmyun’s hands away from him. It stings, but Joonmyun supposes he deserves that. “I just wanted to wish you lu—“ Joonmyun starts to say, but Jongdae cuts him off. “No,” Jongdae snaps. “You don’t get to wish me luck. Not when you’ve been purposely avoiding me these past few days without any explanation.” Joonmyun nods, accepting Jongdae’s anger. “I’m sorry,” he tries, looking at Jongdae, and is started to find two steely eyes looking back at him. Jongdae has never looked at him that way before. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking and—“ “You weren’t thinking because you were too busy doing something else that’s not your job,” Jongdae interjects before Joonmyun could even finish. Joonmyun takes a step back, stunned at the harsh tone and the even harsher words. Jongdae has never spoken this way to him before. In fact, even when everyone calls Jongdae a diva, he is never truly rude and disrespectful. “Jongdae,” Joonmyun says, voice shaking even when he tries to keep the shock at bay. “I’m—“ “What, are you going to apologize?” Jongdae snaps, crossing his arms on his chest as he frowns and averts his gaze. “What else are you going to do?” He scoffs. “I don’t understand you, you know. If you wanted your space to do… whatever it is that you want, you could just tell me, instead of avoiding me and…” He takes a deep breath. “Whatever, I’m done. You can do whatever you want with your life. It’s not like you’re anyone who—“ “Jongdae, shut up.” Joonmyun’s voice is like fire and ice at the same time and it hits Jongdae like a speeding bullet. He keeps his hands to his sides, although he wants to do something else with them, aside from clenching and unclenching them into fists. “I am an assistant coach, not your personal slave. I am not someone you can just demand things of, yell at or talk to like the way you did just now. You should never talk to anyone that way. I’m not going to allow you to talk to me that way anymore. I am your coach, too, and you should see me as such, as a person, who looks out for your well being, and respect me.” He takes a very deep breath when he feels his resolve wavering. “I understand that skating means the world to you, that it’s your life. But, once in a while, you should also look at the people around you. They’re worth caring about more than the sport you’re destroying relationships for.” Jongdae’s mouth is hanging out, his arms having fallen to his sides, when Joonmyun turns around and walks away, mostly running away really. He locks himself in one of the bathroom stalls and sits on the closed toilet bowl, arms wrapped around his body, hunching in on himself. Several deep breaths calm him down considerably but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. If he’d stayed any longer, he would’ve gone on to tell Jongdae to care more about him than figure skating. It was a good thing that he managed to reign himself in because that wouldn’t do. If Joonmyun would ever tell Jongdae about his feels, it won’t be when he’s angry. As it stands, it doesn’t look like he’s even going to get the chance to talk to him any time soon, much less confess. Joonmyun buries his face in his hands. Jongdae’s eyes are focused on Brian as the coach gives out final instructions before Jongdae goes out to skate his free skate program. He’s skating second to the last, just before Yuzuru who’s short program score broke the 100-points barrier. The thought almost sends Joonmyun reeling. He’d picked a really bad time to pick a fight with Jongdae. This is one of the highlights of the season; they’re at the Olympics, which only happens once every four years. If Joonmyun screws this up for Jongdae, he wouldn’t forgive himself. Jongdae probably won’t forgive him, too. Jongdae avoids his gaze like the plague. He flinches and frowns when Joonmyun so much as breathes in his general direction, which makes Joonmyun just curl up into himself even more because this is the last thing that he wanted. The reason why he’s never even entertained the thought of telling Jongdae his feelings until Lu Han and Minseok suggested it was because Joonmyun didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want him and Jongdae to be awkward around each other; didn’t want them to be in a fight. Joonmyun doesn’t ever want to lose Jongdae. Just before Jongdae goes on the ice, Joonmyun takes a leap of faith and reaches for Jongdae’s hand. Jongdae trembles at the touch but doesn’t pull his hand away. “You’re going to be great out there,” Joonmyun tells him, eyes bright, and Jongdae’s own eyes widen with surprise, disbelief and gratefulness. He squeezes his hand and smiles, hoping that it’s enough of an apology for now. “Just like you always are.” Joonmyun’s eyes never leave Jongdae for a second as he glides through the ice. His hands grip the metal railing, knuckles turning white at how firm his grip is, which tighten even more every time Jongdae does a jump or a spin. Jongdae is known for skating perfectly, his spins, footwork, and jumps always by the book. What Brian always tells him is that faultless technical elements only get a skater so far. What Jongdae needs to do is to skate from the heart. Jongdae tries, he always does, but it’s nothing like the way he’s skating now. Jongdae is skating like each gesture, every wave of his hand, every spin, and every step has meaning. His jumps gain a height he’s never reached before and he lands each one of them with a flourish, as if he’s rejoicing about something more than just landing his jumps well. Jongdae’s face is expressing, his eyebrows furrowing at the right moments, his lips lifting to a smile when the song calls for it. Jongdae is just explosive and Joonmyun can already imagine the remarks the commentators are giving on the live broadcast: He’s on fire tonight. He’s really into it and you can tell with the way he skates. He’s a joy to watch. They don’t fully encapsulate what Jongdae’s skating is like. But, then again, they’re not supposed to. They can’t. Jongdae is too breathtaking, beautiful to be described in just a sentence. The audience is on their feet the moment Jongdae’s music stops and he does his last pose. His chest is heaving up and down as he breathes like he’s been holding his breath the whole time he was performing. Which he probably was. Joonmyun has been holding his own breath, at least. Joonmyun covers his mouth with both hands in anticipation of Jongdae’s scores. Patrick Chan’s program earned marks close to Yuzuru’s, currently placing him in first place. Joonmyun knows how much this means to Jongdae, how standing on the top most position on the podium would make him so happy. But, even if Jongdae doesn’t get the gold, Joonmyun just knows that he’ll be standing on the podium either way. It doesn’t even matter if he gets silver or bronze. He never even qualified for the Olympics before. He’s a winner no matter what happens. In Joonmyun’s eyes, Jongdae never has been anything less than great. In and out of the— Silver. Jongdae is currently in first place, outscoring Patrick Chan, which means he has a sure shot at the silver medal. He searches for Jongdae in the crowd, once Jongdae’s left the kiss and cry zone. Joonmyun decides to just wave and catch his attention from a little ways from the back and holding his two thumbs up towards him, a vey lame way to tell Jongdae Congratulations! You were great!. But it’s all Joonmyun can do from the sidelines. The whole world is looking at Kim Jongdae. Joonmyun is just a speck in Jongdae’s galaxy. Joonmyun pushes through the crowd and makes his way to the locker rooms. That is enough for now. He knows that he and Jongdae have a lot to talk about, starting from his outburst the day before. Jongdae is probably wondering what brought that on. Or maybe Jongdae isn’t thinking about it at all. Why would he think about little Kim Joonmyun, who is just an assistant after all. He’s a nobody, compared to Kim Jongdae, who’s now going to be a household name and who’s going to fly so high and shine so bright that would make it hard, even for Joonmyun, to look at him. He takes Jongdae’s bag and pulls out a towel, a bottle of Evian, and Jongdae’s white South Korean jacket. Jongdae would want them immediately when he’s done receiving everyone’s congratulations and before he goes to the awarding and then the press conference. Joonmyun sits down on one of the benches, the reality of Jongdae’s win hitting him. Jongdae is a silver medalist in the Olympics. Jongdae is an Olympic medalist. He will have the title with him forever and Jongdae’s life isn’t going to be the same again. Jongdae has achieved his dream. He is the best figure skater he can be at this point in his career. Joonmyun feels so proud. He suddenly wishes that he hadn’t pulled that stunt of ignoring him and thinking about his feelings more than Jongdae’s well being. It doesn’t matter— The door slams open and Joonmyun immediately gets up as a response. Jongdae walks inside the room and kicks the door closed right into Chanyeol’s face. He locks the door and walks towards Joonmyun with a purpose that Joonmyun’s never seen from him before. Before Joonmyun knows what’s happening, Jongdae is pushing him against a wall and is kissing him. It takes Joonmyun a couple to absorb what’s happening, and when he does, he almost pushes Jongdae away because Jongdae is kissing him how what why. But Jongdae just wraps an arm around Joonmyun’s waist to keep his close, his other hand cupping Joonmyun’s cheek. Joonmyun gives in and kisses Jongdae back with equal fervor. Jongdae’s lips are chapped and cold from skating and probably from the air-conditioning, but Joonmyun doesn’t mind—he doesn’t care. Kissing Jongdae is everything he’s imagined and more, from the way Jongdae seems to be overcompensating for something by moving his lips against Joonmyun insistently, to the way his tongue traces the seam of Joonmyun’s lips, asking for access. It’s not perfect. Jongdae isn’t the best kisser out there, but Joonmyun thinks this is a cause for learning, for the both of them. There is still so much about each other that they have to learn, and so much that they have to talk about. “Jongdae,” Joonmyun blurts out, pulling away and keeping his hands on Jongdae’s chest. Jongdae’s lips are too pink, too inviting that Joonmyun leans forward to kiss him a little bit more, but pulls away when Jongdae responds all to eagerly. His hair is standing in too many different directions and his eyeliner is smudged, but Joonmyun thinks Jongdae’s never looked so lovely. “I’m sorry for what I said—“ “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like a personal assistant, if I’ve made you feel disrespected or if I was rude or made you feel anything less than you are,” Jongdae babbles. “You are great. But I work so hard at skating because I want you to look at me, hyung.” Joonmyun chokes on his own breath. “I only want you to notice me, to see me as something more that Kim Jongdae that skater who idolized you.” “You… idolized me?” Joonmyun can’t help but ask. He can’t even begin to process the other things that Jongdae’s just said. “Hyung,” Jongdae continues, almost whining. “This is all because of you,” he tells him, his half-lidded eyes piercing into Joonmyun’s. Both his hands cup Joonmyun’s face as he presses their foreheads together. “Everything is because of you, hyung. Skating only seems like it means the world to me only because it clearly means the world to you.” Joonmyun pulls away in astonishment and confusion. He blinks several times as he tries to get what Jongdae said through his head. “What?” “Skating is everything to you, hyung,” Jongdae repeats, dropping his hands to Joonmyun’s shoulders. The touch is tentative, like he thinks Joonmyun will push him away. “The way you coach me, asking me to be precise, perfecting my spins and jumps so I figured it’s a good way to get you to notice me. If I do so well, if I become great, you’ll look at me more and you’ll see that I—“ Joonmyun laughs. “That’s my job, Jongdae. I’m doing my job when I do all those things,” he tells him, taking a small step forward to assure Jongdae that he’s not going to push him away, that he’s not going anywhere. “Besides, I only repeat what Brian tells you. Skating isn’t everything to me.” Jongdae’s forehead scrunches up, his brows furrowing, and his lips pursing. “But—“ “You are,” Joonmyun continues before Jongdae can say everything else. Jongdae’s face clears of any concern. Joonmyun smiles at him, brushing Jongdae’s hair away from his face and opens his mouth to explain further. But he does get very far, because Jongdae kisses him again. Joonmyun gives in and kisses him back with a smile on his lips. Joonmyun’s imagined the rest of his life to go differently. He’s always had big dreams for himself, ones that he’s nurtured ever since he was very young. But dreams can change and even disappear due to certain circumstances. Joonmyun’s dreams changed drastically when he got injured and he almost quit figure skating completely. Until he met Jongdae again. That second meeting changed his life. It changed Joonmyun’s priorities and made his dreams evolve into bigger, more heartfelt ones. This time it wasn’t just about him and a sport anymore. This time, it was about Joonmyun and another person, someone, he thinks, he can love his whole life. He’s imagined himself traveling around the world for as long as he could doing what he loves, while maybe being with someone he truly cared about. And, while he thought that dreams have limits, this particular one doesn’t. Because Jongdae is limitless and there are so many ways that Joonmyun can love him. one | two 1. Timeline goes like this: 2013 March – World Championships Training October – Skate Canada November – Trophee Eric Bompard December – Grand Prix Final in Fukuoka 2014 January – South Koren Figure Skating Championships February – Sochi Olympics After that it’s World Championships again. All of these are real figure skating events actually held in the months mentioned. 2. Figure Skating season start in August. 3. Brian Orser was an Olympic silver medalist, became a World champion, as well as became a Canadian national champion. He is currently a coach, coaching the likes of Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernandez, who are real skaters. He also coached Kim Yuna from 2007 to 2010. 4. Patrick Chan and Denis Ten are also real skaters. Patrick Chan is a Canadian figure skater that is said to look like Joonmyun. You can look it up. LOL. 5. Toronto Cricket, Skating and Curling Club is an actually club, where Hanyu and Fernandez train with Nam Nguyen, another figure skater. 6. Kim Jinseo and Lee Junhyoung, both mentioned briefly, are actually male Korean figure skaters. In fact, Kim Jinseo is the 2014 South Korean National Champion, Men’s Division. Both of them, however, didn’t actually qualify for the Sochi Olympics. 7. Kim Yuna is, of course, real and may or may not, have a thing with Chanyeol in the fic. 8. Jongdae’s rankings in the events are all fictitious, but Yuzuru Hanyu, Patrick Chan, and Denis Ten are almost always in the top three so I just normally moved one of them down to accommodate Jongdae. 9. Send in the Clowns is the title of an actual song. It’s also the song Kim Yuna used for her short program in the 2013-14 figure skating season. 10. I understand that there may be inconsistencies with actual figure skating events or rules or whatever, but I hope it was believable anyway. I also understand that Jongdae’s character here is different, but I felt that the fic prompt called for it. Anyway, thank you for the lovely prompts. I hope I did this justice. :-*