Archive of Our Own

It’s the second time watching the tape, and; admittedly, Jeongguk is far more frustrated than the first. He still remembers it, already a year ago and fresh from a loss. The sting of that; coupled with his wounded pride, had been the center of his world back then, and he couldn’t take in the playback of the game. Couldn’t concentrate enough to see where they went wrong, only knew that they had, and it cost them the final.

He doesn’t turn to check, but he knows the rest of his teammates have picked up on it, eyes glued to the screen, watching their past-selves as they shift on their chairs in the present, discomfort painted in their posture. They lean forward out of his peripheral to get a better look and come to the same realization he has, that eureka moment—

A grimace takes over Jeongguk’s features when the overhead lights turn on, far too harsh after being in the dark. Several of the guys let out groans of complaint, but are ignored. Coach Sejin pauses the video, mouth set in a familiar thin line while his gaze sweeps over each one of them, expression stoic.

“When we played against Hanyang last year we were at a disadvantage. Can anyone tell me why?”

“Because they’re the best in the league,” Seokjin mutters to his right, Sejin’s eyes snapping to him, pinning the wingman with one of his trademark stares, intense and unwavering. 

“ Why ?” He demands again, and Jeongguk sighs when he’s hit with that same look, heavy with expectation, prompting him to elaborate. 

“Because they have some of the fastest center linemans,” he answers, watching as Sejin reanimates, clapping and then pointing at Jeongguk as if he’s proud.

“Exactly,” he calls, pressing play on the remote he still holds, their eyes returning to the screen when the video picks up right where it left off. 

Jeongguk watches, unable to help the embarrassment he feels over what he sees. Compared to Hanyang, his own team looks like a bunch of amateurs on the ice, bumbling and uncoordinated, their precision clearly lacking almost as much as their speed.

“We’re too fucking slow,” Yoongi huffs from the back, a collective murmur rising up in consensus as they continue to observe.

"Too loose," Namjoon adds, and Jeongguk hums in agreement, eyes narrowing at how off their form is.

“You’re too slow, and you’re too sloppy. The tournament is less than a month away, we can’t afford to make the same mistakes twice,” Sejin declares, pausing the video once more. “You need to be faster. You need to be better.”

He says it plainly, simple facts that Jeongguk knows to be true. 

This is your problem, here’s your solution.

The issue is figuring out how to get from point A to point B, and Jeongguk knows as captain of his team, he’s the one who’s going to have to come up with the answer.

❄⛸🏒❄

Something nudges against Jeongguk's side, but for the most part he's able to ignore it, sleep heavy and encompassing as it reclaims him.

But then the nudging is back, insistent this time and continuous, refusing to let up until a groan slips past his dry lips and the lids of his eyes flutter open. 

He's made aware of several things at once. The first is Yoongi's displeased face glaring down at him, hair a disheveled mess. The second is the shrill tone of his alarm blaring in the room, and the third is the cold, a glance down revealing that his covers have been stolen and lie in a sad heap on the floor. 

"M'awake," he promises, voice rough, Yoongi raising an unamused brow at him, cheeks puffy and flushed.

"Some of us don't have to be at the rink for another two hours," he complains. "Why am I not sleeping, Jeongguk-ah?"

"I slept through my alarm again?"

"Are you asking me?"

"I slept through my alarm again," he states this time, hoarsely, Yoongi giving a low hum that sounds oddly similar to a growling cat. 

"Yup."

"I'm up, hyung, I'm up," he repeats, and then he actually does get up, removing himself from the temptation that is his sleep-warm bed, swaying on unsteady legs.

Yoongi sniffles, staring at him a second longer before he gives a satisfied nod, ambling back to his own room—appearing far older than his years—and quietly closing the door behind him.

Jeongguk lets out a tired sigh, beating his alarm into submission before he sets about remaking his bed and getting ready. 

He eyes the empty coffee pot on his way out the door, making the quick decision to get it setup for Yoongi to use when he drags himself out of bed.

Thanks for the wake up call —he writes on a colorful sticky note, as is their custom— here’s yours, we’re even.

He draws a crooked smiley face at the bottom and grins, leaving as quietly as he can.

❄⛸🏒❄

Four in the morning is an ungodly hour to be awake, let alone function. 

The strap of Jeongguk’s gym bag digs into his shoulder on one side, while the tied laces of his skates do the same to the other. The building is freezing when he enters; as per usual, air heavy with the smell of ice. The frigid temperature seeps into the locker room in spite of the heaters interspersed throughout, the cold unforgiving and waking him further, teeth chattering, still not used to it after all these years. 

It's a struggle to shove his gear inside the narrow metal locker labeled ' fifty-eight,' fingers numb, movements clumsy and stilted as a result. He has a meeting with the coach in less than fifteen minutes, no doubt to discuss strategy; of which he has nothing concrete to offer. 

Jeongguk rubs his hands together, blowing against the cupped palms in an attempt to generate warmth and heads back out, the tell-tale sound of blades on ice reaching his ears, so overly familiar that he nearly overlooks it. He approaches the walls, the guards down and leaving his view unobstructed, eyes already tracking the graceful figure that glides passed, one leg extended up in the air, mirroring its twin that guides his path along the frozen surface, creating a perfect line. 

It’s not an unfamiliar sight. Part of being the captain of the hockey team means getting to the rink before anyone else in order to set up for the day, and while their allotted time to practice is early, there are others who come even earlier. Others like the figure skater out on the ice.

Having never spoken to him, Jeongguk knows entirely too much about Park Jimin. 

It’s not like he went fishing for the information, or anything. He’s not that desperate; despite what his so-called friends may claim. It simply comes down to the fact that the ice sports division of Yonsei University—while garnering acclaim and prestige—is still a world of its own. A very small, somewhat claustrophobic world that consists of his hockey team, synchronized skating, and the figure skaters, pairs and soloists; of which Jimin is a part of.

Everybody knows everybody, people talk, he hears things, that’s all.

What Jeongguk has learned since joining the university, is that Jimin prefers solitude to relationships, consistently denying those brave enough to ask him out, choosing instead to focus his attention on his sport. He knows that his favorite season is winter, and the only time he looks happy is when he's around friends; which consists of two other members of the soloist division. They’re little, inconsequential facts that he’s picked up on in the time he’s been made aware of Jimin’s existence, like the way they share two classes together—Jimin sitting a few rows in front of him—or how he secretly watches baby animal videos on his phone when he’s supposed to be paying attention to their professor.

Though small, they paint a picture, and Jeongguk never stood a chance. Not really. Because everything he’s seen of Park Jimin is as endearing as it is admirable. 

Some of the things he hears , however, try to claim otherwise.

He's never been one to put much stock in gossip, regardless if it’s criticisms or compliments. Jeongguk has heard everything from how unapproachable and snobbish the male soloist figure skaters are; resembling more of an exclusive club, to the dismissive way they treat others. 

They come from money , some of the students whisper, as if that explains everything. It’s always said with raised brows and wide eyes. A ‘you know the type’ look. The same type that believe themselves to be above their peers—better than even those in their own division, due to the competitions they win and the absolute untouchable talent they exude.   

That last part he can attest to, but only because he sees it almost every single morning. 

As if privy to his thoughts, Jimin executes a perfect spin in the air, landing it effortlessly before positioning himself for the next move in whatever routine he's doing. There's something about him that makes everything he does; every move, every expression, captivating to watch. It's almost as if the ice he glides across is an extension of himself, a part of him in a way that cannot be separated, his footwork controlled, movements sure.

The way he covers the rink in such a short amount of time, gaining speed with minimal effort and movement, is so different to Jeongguk's own style and what he's used to. It's as if he expels almost no energy, and yet somehow manages to cover more ground than those that physically exert themselves to do the same...

His hair is blue this week. A dark, almost gray-sapphire color, that goes well with his cream-white sweater, and though he has yet to remain still long enough for Jeongguk to truly take it in, he thinks it compliments him well. 

There is very little in the world; if anything, that could make Park Jimin appear unflattering, Jeongguk is sure. He’s one of those people who’s blessed in that way.

Registering movement to his right, Jeongguk's gaze drifts over, eyes widening when he sees coach Sejin watching near to him. For a moment he fears he's late, but the digital clock hanging above the rink states otherwise, setting his nerves at ease. Sejin continues to observe Jimin—or more precisely—his feet, and when Jeongguk turns to look, it's almost like he can see the gears turning in the man's head, hear the thoughts running rampant in his mind, because his own echo the exact same thing. 

Jimin's precise on his skates, his technique impeccable. He's also fast.

Very very fast.

As if sensing his gaze, Sejin looks up and spots him, beckoning him over and numbly, Jeongguk goes, unsure why he feels trepidation and a weighted ball in the pit of his stomach. 

"Do you know him?" the hockey coach asks in greeting, getting right to the point.

He gives a small shake of his head, concealing his disappointment over the fact.

"I know of him."

"What do you think?"

Jeongguk has no idea how he's supposed to answer that question without embarrassing himself.

He thinks entirely too much when it comes to Park Jimin.

"I don't know much about figure skating," is the answer he settles on.

"Neither do I, but I meant his skating in general."

Jeongguk looks back at the rink, watching as Jimin spins with impossible speed and grace, back arched dramatically, one leg extended behind him up and over his head, where his hands hold it steady.

"He's fast. Talented. Clearly knows what he's doing."

"My thoughts exactly." Sejin says with determination, as if vindicated, his own gaze still on Jimin. "The control he uses, and the way he covers the space…"

"What are you thinking?" Jeongguk finally asks, unable to stay in suspense a moment longer, suspicion growing by the second.

"Speed, talent, precision," he lists off, finally turning to look at Jeongguk. "All the things you need to win the tournament."

He feels it when his mouth falls open, Sejin clapping him on the back but offering no further comfort.

"I'm going to ask him to join the meeting with us, see if he'll be willing to help."

"Help—"

"Go ahead and make your way to my office. I'll be there shortly."

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he calls after the man, uneasy when he turns to face him, walking backwards with an easy smile.

“Do you have a better one?”

Jeongguk goes to answer, but the words die out on his tongue, nothing forthcoming while Sejin shakes his head in amusement. 

“Go on, I won’t be long.”

Jeongguk watches him circle the rink, moving towards the opening that'll allow him onto the ice, waving at Jimin like an overly excited fan to get the skater's attention. He's a big guy. Tall with bulky shoulders. Anyone would find him intimidating, but from here Jimin looks irritated at the interruption.

Jeongguk can't stay to watch, wanting nothing more than to hide his face in embarrassment, and instead does what he was told and makes his way towards the staff wing. 

❄⛸🏒❄

If he was embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to the way that he feels after Sejin makes his pitch to Park Jimin, practically dragging the skater into his small, freezing office and sitting him down next to Jeongguk in one of the two unbearable plastic chairs that face his desk.

Jeongguk sinks lower in his seat; or as much as he’s able to without the thing buckling under his weight, watching from the corner of his eye at the way Jimin frowns over the proposal, the furrow in his brow deepening by the second. He’s clearly taken aback, uncomfortable, even. The cold turns his skin pale, lips a deep crimson, parted in speechlessness, eyes wider than usual. 

Sejin; in turn, appears eager, expression hopeful and earnest, like he can’t read the room. Jeongguk turns back, watching as Jimin visibly swallows, straightening in his chair and pointedly clearing his throat.

“Sejin-ssi,” he starts, somewhat tentatively, carefully choosing his words, as if he’s afraid to offend him. “With all due respect, I’m a figure skater, a completely different animal from hockey—of which I know nothing about.”

Jeongguk’s gaze slides back over to Sejin, who holds his hands up imploringly, face softening in a way it rarely does when he addresses the hockey team. 

“I understand that, trust me. I know how strange a request this is. But I’ve seen you skate. You’re fast .” 

He says it like a compliment, with just the right amount of awe to appeal to anyone’s ego, though when he looks back, Park Jimin does not appear swayed. 

“I have to be. I’m a figure skater ,” he responds, putting emphasis on his title. 

“Hockey isn’t so different, you know. Speed is important in the sport as well. I just thought that, maybe, if you had some tips, you could give a few pointers. Perhaps a demonstration, if possible.”

Jimin still doesn’t look convinced. 

“I’m busy trying to perfect my program. My division is also competing soon, and my free time is limited.”

“I understand,” Sejin repeats, tone contrite. “It was just a thought. Any help you could provide, no matter how small you might deem it, we would be grateful. After all, if one aspect of this department does well, we all do well.”

Jeongguk’s eyes slowly travel back over to Jimin once more, and he watches his teeth sink into his plump bottom lip while his gaze remains fixed on his lap, contemplating. It gets quiet, and Jeongguk feels as if he’s in the middle of a game, pulling his arm back, ready to take a slapshot and waiting to see if the puck will hit the net—

“I’ll take a look at the tape.”

It’s not a yes, but it’s definitely not a no, either.

Sejin lets out a sigh of relief before he gives a sharp nod, moving to the flatscreen to set everything up as quickly as possible, almost as if he’s worried Jimin will change his mind if he’s given long enough to think about it. Looking at the way the figure skater shifts restlessly in his seat, Jeongguk thinks that particular worry is not unfounded.

Sejin hits the lights, sitting back down in his chair before picking up the remote and pressing play on last year's game. 

Jeongguk doesn’t bother to watch it again. Instead, he finds his gaze repeatedly drawn towards the other, attempting to read his impassive expression as he takes in the playback and wonders what he sees. What he thinks. 

Five minutes pass, maybe less when Jimin gently; but firmly, interrupts. 

“I’ve seen enough.”

Sejin quickly pauses the tape, gaining his feet to bring the lights back on. He looks at Jimin with a clear question in his gaze, and Jeongguk feels something akin to excitement when he recognizes a few emotions that show themselves through the usual mask of indifference that Park Jimin chooses to wear. 

One of which includes curiosity.

“What do you think?” Sejin wonders when the air remains hushed for far too long. 

The furrow in Jimin’s brow smooths out, his eyes regaining that hardened edge as he looks up at the hockey coach.

“I wanna see him skate.”

He says it without looking at Jeongguk directly, but his stomach still swoops at being somewhat acknowledged by him, his eyes meeting Sejin’s when he inclines his head towards the door. 

“Gear up.”

Jeongguk doesn’t need to be told twice. He leaves the room without a backwards glance, traveling the familiar route towards his locker. It takes no time at all to don his equipment, the movements practically muscle memory after all these years. He puts his guards on his skates and makes his way back out to the rink, where both Sejin and Jimin are already positioned at the walls. Removing the guards on a nearby bench, Jeongguk glides out onto the ice, approaching the two for further instruction. 

“Why don’t you do some speed drills,” Sejin suggests when he’s close enough. “Explosive starts on my mark.”

Jeongguk nods and gets into position, clearing his mind and focusing on the destination. He takes off when the coach’s whistle rings out, extending his left leg first then quickly alternating, trying not to feel the pressure of having others critique his form. He makes it to the far wall and immediately pivots and turns back, racing towards the starting point. He's about to do another circuit when a voice calls out. 

“Crossovers.”

Jeongguk shreds the ice as he comes to a stop, eyes finding Jimin’s through the guard of his helmet. He can just see the screen of his phone, open on what looks to be a stopwatch.

Nodding once at the request, he gets into position again and moves when the whistle blows for the second time, crossing his legs over each other while he glides along the rink, but even he knows it’s not fast enough. 

“Pivot,” that same voice calls again, authoritative.

Jeongguk does as he’s told and pivots, doing backwards crossovers as he’s put into a more defensive position. 

There’s no further yelled instructions, so he removes his helmet, holding it against his hip and approaches the wall the other two are still leaning up against. He can see the struggle in Jimin’s expression, clearly warring with himself. 

When his eyes fly up, they meet Jeongguk’s wide ones, his breath catching, shocked when he addresses him rather than Sejin.  

“I’ll help,” he declares, and something that feels like relief spreads throughout Jeongguk’s core. “But on my time.”

“Of course,” Sejin rushes to reassure. “Anything you need, just let us know.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he mutters quietly, the clipped words serving as his farewell, Jeongguk watching his back retreat all the way to the locker room. 

❄⛸🏒❄

Park Jimin ‘gets in touch’ two days later, giving Jeongguk enough time to warm the rest of the team up to the idea, assembling them for the impromptu demonstration that the figure skater fortuitously had time to give during their regularly scheduled practice block. 

He’s already waiting on the ice when Jeongguk exits the locker room in his gear, unable to help how nervous he feels when he approaches. They’re going to have to work together, though, and despite his nerves, striking up a conversation to ‘break the ice,’ so to speak, is probably for the best.

He skates towards the figure skater at a leisurely pace; wearing what he hopes to be a friendly smile, and holds out the hand that isn't holding his helmet in offering once he's close enough. 

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk, captain of the hockey team.”

Jimin eyes the gloved hand with a raised brow, making no move to take it, disdain in his features. When their eyes meet, Jeongguk feels a large, unpleasant lump forming at the back of his throat, making it difficult to swallow. 

“You do remember we met a few days ago, right?”

Jeongguk’s smile falters. 

“We weren’t...technically introduced.”

Something flashes across the smaller man’s face, and Jeongguk can’t be sure if it’s the cold or their awkward social interaction that has pink blooming over his round cheeks when he finally shakes his hand. 

“Of course. I’m Park Jimin, soloist in the male figure skating division.”

“Nice to meet you,” he responds sincerely, Jimin gazing up at him from beneath his long lashes. 

His eyes are really pretty.

Jeongguk's hand is dropped quickly, and he goes to run it through his hair in a nervous habit before he remembers it’s gloved, letting it fall awkwardly at his side.

“Is coach Sejin going to be joining us, or…”

“He doesn’t usually hang around for morning practices. I supervise those.”

Jimin sighs as if put out, and Jeongguk tries not to take it personally, even if his pride is a bit wounded. 

“I wanted to talk to him. Unfortunately, today is the only day I’ll be able to show up at this time. I usually have class, but my professor canceled, so,” he trails off with a shrug. “If you want further help, it’ll have to be later in the evening. It’s the only time I have available.”

“I’m available during the evening,” Jeongguk blurts out, obviously eager, mouth opening and closing as he rushes to elaborate. “If you’re okay with it, you can give me any pointers or advice you have, and I’ll pass it along.”

Jimin studies him, eyes narrowed, brow quirked.

“Like, one on one training?”

Does that sound creepy? He didn’t realize it sounded so creepy, he just thought—

The corners of Jimin’s lips twitch upwards in what could be a smile, something bright shining in his eyes that has Jeongguk suspicious that he's being taunted.

“I’ll give you my schedule later.”

A shaky exhale escapes him at the agreement, and he goes to make an attempt at an intelligent response only to be left staring after Jimin’s back as he skates towards his waiting teammates, who are all lined up shoulder to shoulder on the ice. 

Jeongguk skates after him, rushing to catch up. 

Upon their approach, all conversations cease, attention trained on the both of them and making Jeongguk breathe a sigh at their good behavior. Jimin comes to a stop using the toe of his skates, hands clasped behind his back while Jeongguk slows beside him, nerves spiking while they wait in silence. 

“I’m Park Jimin,” he announces with confidence, voice even and easily heard. “I’m part of the figure skating division for men’s soloists. I’m here on the request of your coach in an effort to help you become better and faster skaters.”

It falls quiet again, some of the guys chipping at the ice with their blades. 

“Any questions before we begin?”

Nobody speaks. 

“Alright then. I’m going to do a few laps around the rink and then I want to see you do the same.”

He turns to do just that, Jeongguk getting out of the way and standing with the others as they all watch him cover the ice, his speed and agility clear for everyone to see. 

When he returns, blue hair windswept and cheeks slightly redder than before, Yoongi is the first to comment, drawing Jimin’s attention. 

"Not to question you or anything, but most of us don't exclusively use crossovers."

"Or figure skates," Jaeseok mutters.

“Show me, then,” Jimin orders, authoritative, moving to clear the line and surprising Jeongguk when he comes to a stop next to him, their shoulders nearly touching. He pulls out his phone from his back pocket, opening his clock app and maneuvering it to the stopwatch. 

“On three, to the wall and back.”

Everyone spreads out and gets into position, bending their knees to lower their bodies as far as they’re able.

“Ready? One. Two. Three.”

They take off at once, and Jeongguk watches, slightly impressed. They’ve definitely improved from last year, though he still feels they’re nowhere near good enough to beat Hanyang.

When they make it back to the starting line, Jimin stops the clock, already shaking his head, bottom lip jutting out. 

“They’re terrible,” he mutters, and Jeongguk tramps down the offense he feels, reminding himself that the whole reason they’re doing this is to improve. Taking anything personally; whether it’s on behalf of him or his teammates, won’t do them any good in the long run. 

“They might not respond well to insulting criticisms from a stranger,” he warns instead, hoping that Jimin has another approach to turn to.

That hope is crushed with Jimin’s next words.

“I’m not a hockey coach, so you tell me, what will they respond to?”

Jeongguk turns to look at him, surprised to note that Jimin appears genuinely curious.

“How does your coach teach you ?” he wonders, taken aback when Jimin laughs without humor.

“Insulting criticisms.”

That piece of information makes Jeongguk's eyes widen before he purposefully smooths out his expression, having the feeling that Jimin doesn’t take kindly to sympathy, especially from those he doesn't know. He shrugs instead, fixing his gaze back out towards the guys as they wait for further instructions. 

“Show them?”

“Show them,” Jimin repeats slowly, glancing up at Jeongguk with a frown and sighing when he nods. “Alright then,” he says, determination clear in his tone as he skates down the line to address the team. “How about a race,” he calls, pivoting until he’s skating backwards. “I’m obviously a novice at the sport, so you shouldn’t have any trouble beating me.”

“We’re in our gear,” Namjoon points out, eyeing Jimin’s ensemble of black pants that appear to have been painted on his shapely legs with a matching oversized sweater. 

“So give me your gear then,” Jimin huffs with just a hint of exasperation, Jeongguk’s eyes widening when he effortlessly circles back around and slides to a stop in front of him. 

“You. Give me your gear," he orders, Jeongguk’s mouth falling open at the command even as Jimin turns back to speak to the others. "Let’s all have a race, shall we? I’ll wear the same thing you do. Hell, I’ll even let you forgo it, if you want. But I bet I’ll still beat you.”

A murmur starts up in his teammates, most of them rushing to remove their padding as they crow excitedly, eager to make the figure skater eat his words. 

“I said show them, not goad them,” Jeongguk drawls, removing his own equipment and passing it off to Jimin. 

“Why are there so many straps,” he grits out in complaint, attempting to put the pads on by himself, pulling a sigh from Jeongguk when he struggles. 

He shoos his hands out of the way, replacing them with his own, not wanting him to damage anything. It's his personal gear, after all.

“You sure about this?” he asks, finishing with the shoulder and elbow pads before kneeling down to secure the knee pads, the wetness from the ice seeping into his pants.

“A-Absolutely,” Jimin stutters, making Jeongguk look up at him in concern, only to realize their position is...slightly compromising. The pink that dusts his cheeks is now red, eyes fixed somewhere off in the distance as he tacks on, “give me some skates, too.”

Jeongguk shakes his head at the additional order, but moves towards the walls where he keeps the extra equipment, eyeing Jimin’s feet and finding a spare pair of hockey skates that look to be about his size.

"It's gonna be a yard sale," some of the boys joke while Jeongguk makes his way back towards Jimin, skates in hand.  

The smaller man sits down right on the ice and changes them out, lacing up as tight as he can and bringing a wince to Jeongguk’s features. 

“What’s a yard sale,” he questions, a pout overtaking his lips that Jeongguk can’t help but find ridiculously cute. 

“Hockey jargon,” he answers, not wanting to elaborate further. 

“I gathered as much. What’s it mean?”

“It’s when you fall on the ice and all your gear flies off.”

Jimin stops to glare up at him, and Jeongguk can’t help but laugh. 

“ I didn’t say it.”

He doesn't acknowledge that fact, but once he finishes with his skates Jimin holds out his hand almost like an olive branch, tightly gripping the one Jeongguk offers so he can regain his feet. He’s slightly unsteady when he stands, though quick to find his balance, a grin settling over his lips as if he's proud of himself. Jeongguk watches him skate a bit, clearly trying to get used to his new attachments.

“Am I ready?”

Jeongguk shakes his head, revealing the helmet as the only item he’s missing. Jimin appears less than thrilled but he dons it anyway, lopsided like a too-big hat. 

It’s damn near impossible to keep from smiling. Jimin looks unbearably adorable, his gear ill-fitting on him, and making him appear tinier than he is. Like a puffed up marshmallow.

When he deems himself adjusted enough, Jimin sets his unused skates behind the walls and takes off again towards the rest of his teammates, leaving Jeongguk to follow as they take their place with the others.

“Right, I’ve got the gear, the skates. Anything else?” he addresses the team, showing no reaction to the snickers that echo in response. 

They all line up, fanning out while Jimin looks to his left, then his right. 

“To the wall and back again, on three. One. Two. Three.”

The sound is deafening when they all take off, Jeongguk so focused that he can’t tell who’s in the lead. It’s only when he touches the back wall and pivots that he sees...

Jimin beats them all, and it isn’t even a close race, he simply dominates everyone, a cocky grin visible even through the guard of his helmet as he skates circles around them when they reach the finish line, rightfully gloating after the others doubted him. 

Despite the loss, the sound of his joyful laughter brings a misplaced smile to Jeongguk’s lips. That is, until Jimin comes to a stop in front of him, purposefully shredding ice all over the bottom of his pants, a reminder that he shouldn’t be happy at being defeated. 

"Looks like I won. Says quite a bit, don't you think?” he brags good-naturedly, that wide smile still gracing his lips, making him look carefree, and whimsical.

"It says enough," Jeongguk easily agrees, keeping his eyes on Jimin, unable to look away even when Seokjin calls to him.

"What'd he say, Captain?"

Jeongguk continues to hold Jimin's gaze when he answers.

"He called you a bunch of plumbers."

There are groans of complaint, but also begrudging agreement, and Jeongguk can't hold back a smirk when Jimin's expression morphs into one of offense.

"I never said that."

"More hockey jargon," he explains with a shrug, smile widening as he watches Jimin skate back towards the others in his gear, addressing them as he goes up and down the line. 

For the next hour, Park Jimin corrects posture, calls out form, and gives various tips to whoever he’s addressing at the time, complaining about ‘weak footwork’ or someone sticking their ass too far out that it displaces their weight. 

The guys take it all in stride, and Jeongguk is proud that they never once give the other man shit, and instead, acknowledges his advice and takes it to heart. Every single one of them wants to redeem themselves and beat Hanyang this year, and to do that, they’ll need all the help they can get. 

When the hour is up, their practice block over, the guys rush out of the rink and go straight for the locker room, leaving Jimin and Jeongguk alone. They come off the ice slowly, Jeongguk following the skater, unsure if he’s meant to linger as Jimin remains comfortable in his silence. He takes a seat on one of the benches, and Jeongguk watches him pull at his gear.

“Can I help?”

“Please,” he begs, voice weary as he extends his arm. 

Jeongguk removes the padding quickly, eyes flying up when Jimin lets out a groan. 

“How do you skate in that stuff,” he complains, head falling forward once he takes off the helmet to slowly roll it to the left and then the right. 

“At least I’m protected,” Jeongguk answers. “You’re the one who has to skate in those tight costumes and throw yourself into the air.”

Jimin is staring at him when he finishes removing the pads, a half-smile turning his plump lips mischievous and heating Jeongguk’s ears.

“What?”

"Tight costumes, huh?"

"Well, they—they are," he defends, feeling like a child.

Jimin shakes his head, muttering "throw myself in the air," but he's got a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. “You have a way with words.”

The heat in Jeongguk’s ears travels to his cheeks, and he ducks down, keeping his hands busy with the guards he helped remove from the smaller man.

Jimin doesn’t seem to mind his silence, moving instead to untie the hockey skates with a whine, and Jeongguk forgets he’s trying to distract himself.

"You okay?" he asks, frowning when Jimin hisses once his feet are pulled free, rubbing at his delicate-looking ankles. 

"Yeah, fine. I'm just used to more support."

"Ahhh,” Jeongguk hums in understanding. “We need the mobility, so the material's not as constricting as you’re used to. No fancy jumps or spins in hockey." 

He immediately wants to berate himself. His remarks regarding the sport probably sound condescending...

Relief floods through him when Jimin merely snorts, not appearing to take offense, and when he glances back up, his hair obstructs just enough of his eyes to make him appear brazen.

“So what does plumber mean?" he asks, taking Jeongguk by surprise. "Earlier you said that’s what I called them.”

He shrugs, not used to explaining this kind of stuff. 

“It’s like...someone who tries hard, but doesn’t look good.”

“That’s dumb, just say that , instead. Why are there so many terms and phrases?”

“I’m sure figure skating has just as many,” Jeongguk retorts, watching as Jimin’s lips stick out in another pout, a hum rumbling in his chest as he concedes the point.

He turns, collecting his sports bag from beneath the benches, digging around inside for a warm pair of socks and some comfortable; yet worn, sneakers. Jimin lays them at his feet before pulling his phone out of his back pocket, a small crack running along the corner of the screen. 

“Give me your number,” he instructs, confusing Jeongguk with the sudden order. 

When he takes too long to answer, Jimin rolls his eyes, but his expression is friendly enough. Almost fond, even. 

“It’ll be easier to text you my schedule, that way we can coordinate times to meet up.”

“Right,” Jeongguk rushes out, quickly listing off his phone number, confirming it to be correct when Jimin repeats it back to him. 

“I texted you, should be available in the next few days,” he assures, slipping his shoes on quickly.

“Yeah, okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” he repeats, mimicking his tone, clearly teasing. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of his plush lips, again, though. 

Jeongguk quickly turns away before he’s caught staring, shaking his head as he remembers his manners. 

“Thank you for this, Jimin-ssi. I know you told the coach that you’re busy, so really. Thank you.”

Jimin’s smile softens, a genuine and; from what he’s seen, rare occurrence, and Jeongguk feels his heart rabbit against his ribs. 

“When were you born?”

The question throws him off for a few seconds, unsure if he heard correctly, but he still provides an answer. 

“Ninety-seven.”

Jimin's smile widens, only this time, it’s like he’s won a prize.

“I was born in ninety-five, so you can call me hyung, Jeongguk-ah ,” he declares with a glint in his eye, his tone gentling with his next words. “And you’re welcome.”

They stare at one another, Jeongguk feeling awkward and wondering if he’s meant to say something, mouth falling open to do just that when Jimin beats him to it.

“Until next time.”

And with that, he watches him go, collecting his skates and heading for the exit. Jeongguk only manages to shake himself out of his wandering thoughts when the figure skater leaves the building, reminding him that he still has to clean up and put away the equipment before he’s free to leave. 

❄⛸🏒❄

He gets a text from Jimin three days later right after his midday lecture. 

Meet me in the locker room at 5:30 pm.

He frowns down at the message, agonizing over how to respond, tapping the thumbs up emoji before deleting it with a huff. He types out see you then, only to delete that as well. 

Jeongguk settles on a simple okay, and makes his way to his next class, pushing down the urge to bang his head against the wall at his social ineptitude. 

He arrives at the rink twenty minutes early, and waits in his car until the dashboard clock reads 5:21.

Grabbing his bag from the passenger seat, he stumbles out in his excitement, forcing himself to slow his steps and calm down once he enters the building, the cold slapping him square in the face. 

Jimin is already waiting in the locker room, sitting on one of the benches in the first row, right in front of locker thirteen. The smaller man eyes him when he approaches, gaze settling on his bag and the skates thrown over his shoulder with an apologetic expression. 

“Sorry, should’ve told you but you won’t be needing those today.”

“I won’t be needing my skates?” Jeongguk asks, perplexed, and Jimin saddles him with a grin that looks far too impish to set him at ease. 

“Not tonight. We’re going to the gym.”

Jeongguk’s confusion mounts, but he doesn’t question him, and instead shoves all of his equipment in his locker; sans his water bottle, and follows the skater towards the section of the building that houses their training and gym equipment. It’s empty, most of the department preferring to take advantage of it during the early hours of the morning.

“What kind of exercises do you do that positively affect your playing?” Jimin asks distractedly, stopping on an open mat and digging in the small gym bag he brought with him.

“You want a list?”

“Lists are good,” he answers, still searching. 

Jeongguk looks up and considers, naming them off as they come to him.

“Box jumps, broad jumps, mountain climber sprints, stairs—”

“Well we won’t be doing any of that today.”

Jeongguk snorts, watching as Jimin finally pulls out what looks to be painter’s tape.

“We’re gonna try something a little different.”

He follows his movements, frowning when the figure skater tapes a long line down the mat before measuring out the center, where he adds a small ‘V.’

Once complete, he flashes Jeongguk a grin, clearly pleased with himself and appearing to seek approval. 

“Uh...what is it?”

Jimin rolls his eyes but moves to demonstrate, stretching his left leg down the long line, while placing his opposite foot angled along one of the smaller ones that makes up the ‘V,’ Jeongguk’s eyes widening when he recognizes the stance. 

“This is the position you need to be in for explosive starts, correct?”

“Correct,” he answers, barely recognizing his voice.

“I did some research. Both of the center linemans for Hanyang are taller than you. The taller you are, the longer your stride. The longer your stride, the more ice you cover, the faster you are, right?”

“Thought you didn’t know anything about hockey,” he wonders with a raised brow, watching as Jimin narrows his eyes.

“Like I said, I did some research ."

"And how do you know my position? Or how tall I am?"

Jimin gives him a truly withering look.

"You know all of that stuff is available on the university's website, right?"

"...Of course I do."

"Sure, now, am I right?”

“You’re right.” Jeongguk admits. 

“Which means you’re going to have to get down even lower to the ice if you want any hope of keeping up with them. You need to widen your stride. This is going to help you do that,” he finishes, motioning towards the lines he’s created. 

Jeongguk nods as if he understands, the quiet stretching and making him nervous, until finally, he asks, "How?"

Jimin remains patient as he beckons him forward, and Jeongguk goes, taking his position. 

“Lower,” he immediately orders, so Jeongguk goes lower. 

“ Lower ,” he demands again, and Jeongguk frowns up at him. 

“Are you trying to injure me?”

“No, I’m trying to help you, now go lower. Knees in front of toes. And," he draws out, "alternate.”

Jeongguk alternates his legs, far less graceful than he is out on the ice. 

“Push up more with your leading knee, don’t keep it static. Use that momentum to cover more ground as your other leg is extended.”

Jeongguk does as he’s told, finding the advice helps to rectify how off-balance he was before. 

“Good, that feels better, doesn’t it?”

“This feels awful,” he mutters honestly, turning to look when he hears Jimin’s tinkling laugh. 

“Your glutes must be on fire,” he says without remorse, blatantly staring at Jeongguk’s ass. 

He stumbles, nearly losing his footing and face planting on the mat, but catches himself in time. Jimin remains unmoved, and merely ‘tsks’ when Jeongguk sends a glare over his shoulder.

“Again,” he orders, so Jeongguk gets back into position and goes again, determined not to stop until he’s been given permission to do so. 

“This is all about repetition. The more you do it, the more used to it you’ll be, the easier you’ll find it is to do out on the ice.”

“Is this...all I’m going to be doing tonight?”

“Why,” Jimin wonders, amusement clear in his voice. “Not challenging enough for you?”

"Which answer would get me in the least amount of trouble?"

Jimin laughs again, charming and airy.

"Maybe you should just focus on your exercises, then. Better safe than sorry."

He takes the advice to heart, putting all of his energy into the movement and attempting to ignore the strain in his muscles every time he switches legs. After several minutes of quiet; interrupted only by Jeongguk's grunts and deep breaths, Jimin hesitantly speaks.

"So, what exactly do center linemans...do?"

“Didn’t research that?”

“I didn’t have time.”

"It's hard to explain," Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth, continuing his reps. It's only because of the discomfort that he's able to conceal how pleased he is at Jimin's interest. 

"Center is usually an offensive position. We carry the puck up the ice, watch for openings, or make them ourselves. We have to try to disrupt the defensive setup of the other team. And those faceoffs where two players come forward to fight for the puck, I'm the one who does those."

Jimin hums, and Jeongguk wonders if he imagines the impressed cadence of his tone or not.

"Sounds like a lot to keep track of."

Jeongguk shrugs as much as he's able, not wanting to affect his balance again. 

"No wonder your skating needs work."

He coughs on the saliva in his mouth, shooting Jimin an incredulous look. 

"Don't be upset," he says consolingly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, eyes lighting up in that familiar way when he teases. "After all, that's why I'm here."

Jeongguk continues to eye him for a moment, hoping to make the figure skater squirm, but his smile only widens the longer they stare, and he decides to let it go.

"Can't argue with that."

"How long have you been playing?"

"Seven years. Started as just an extracurricular activity, but I fell in love with it pretty fast," he admits, eager for the attention to switch off of him. "What about you? How long have you been skating?"

"Mmm...twelve—thirteen years, maybe."

"Wow," Jeongguk exhales, impressed, wincing when he alternates legs. "That's dedication."

Jimin comes into his line of sight, shrugging like it's unimportant. 

"There are people in the program who have been doing it longer than I have."

"But they're not as good," Jeongguk blurts out honestly before he can stop himself, feeling his cheeks heat from more than just physical exertion.

"And how would you know that?" Jimin wonders in amusement. "Have you been to one of our performance nights?"

Once or twice, but Jeongguk doesn't want to admit to that just yet, so he shrugs instead, not sure what to make of the smirk Jimin wears.

"Do you love it?" he asks, changing the subject, nearly forgetting what he's supposed to be working on when Jimin's expression turns contemplative.

"As much as anyone can love something in a competitive field," he shrugs. "I love it when I'm perfect. When I learn something new and execute it without a single flaw. I love it when it goes well and I win," he smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Not so much when I fail, though."

Jeongguk doesn't realize he's stopped moving until Jimin pins him with a wide-eyed stare and inclines his head at him in a motion to get going, his legs immediately alternating as he lowers himself closer to the ground.

"What made you start skating in the first place?" he wonders, feeling something melancholic over the way Jimin describes his relationship with the sport.

"I wanted to dance," he reveals softly, candidly, a kind of wistful look in his eyes that makes him seem more carefree than Jeongguk can ever recall seeing him. "This was the closest thing I could get to that my parents would accept at the time."

Jeongguk's mouth falls open, though words elude him. If there's one thing he's sure of when it comes to Park Jimin, it's that he's proud, and pity would not be well-received.

"For what it's worth, I think you skate beautifully. It really does look like you're dancing."

This time, the smile does reach Jimin's eyes, and it's genuine. The same one he can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen it make an appearance.

"So you have watched me perform."

"I have," Jeongguk admits, "and I see you almost every morning when I set up for practice."

"Of course," Jimin murmurs, and there's something almost...satisfied in his expression that makes Jeongguk avert his eyes, feeling diffident and finding comfort in focusing elsewhere.

He goes for ten more minutes, the entire lower half of his body on fire by the time Jimin calls it, and Jeongguk nearly collapses to the ground, sweat trickling off of his brow and hairline, chest heaving.

“Got anything for muscle pain?”

“Of course,” Jeongguk answers breathlessly, while he shakes out his drenched hair. 

“Good. You’re gonna wanna use it before you sleep, otherwise you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

He watches Jimin gather his things, the smaller man catching his stare and directing another smile his way while he moves towards the door. 

“We’ll skate next time. Keep your muscles moving so they don’t lock up," he advises, far too cheerful and unaffected.

Jeongguk huffs as he watches him go out the door, a short wave his farewell while he himself struggles to gain his feet. His legs shake, a tingling sensation under the skin that has them almost feeling numb, muscles turned to jelly.

It takes him longer than usual to leave the building.

❄⛸🏒❄

The next day is hell. 

Jeongguk’s body is in constant agony, protesting with every move, a perpetual wince gracing his features as he hisses with the slightest movement.

“You look like you got ridden hard and put away wet,” Yoongi greets absently as he collapses into his usual seat.

His words nearly have Jeongguk spitting out the rushed lunch he prepared this morning, a hand coming up to beat on his own chest as he chokes. Yoongi continues, oblivious to Jeongguk's struggle.

“I didn’t hear you last night, though. Did you suddenly learn how to be quiet during sex?” 

Both Namjoon and Seokjin turn their gawking stares at Jeongguk, inquisitive and awaiting his reply. 

“I wasn’t having sex," he hisses, "And could you be any more inappropriate?”

“I could,” Yoongi answers with an apathetic shrug, pulling out his own lunch as he settles. “But you told me to tone it down, so…”

“The effort,” Namjoon sighs, taking another bite of his gappchung, eyes glued to the latest book he’s been reading. 

“I’m sore because I went to the gym last night,” Jeongguk explains, his eyes tracking the group of figure skaters out on the ice, Jimin among them. Everyday they eat lunch in the same row of seats that make up the audience portion of the rink, the ice open to anyone who wants to use it at this hour, and the figure skaters usually take advantage.

“Trying something new?” Seokjin presses, eyeing Jeongguk in interest. “You go to the gym all the time, I’ve never seen you look like death warmed over the next day.”

“Jimin had me doing reps to help with speed.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen when the guys ‘ oooh’ obnoxiously. Even Namjoon has momentarily looked away from his book again.

“So it’s just Jimin now, huh?" Seokjin smirks, batting his lashes. “How informal.”

“When’s the wedding,” Yoongi mutters. 

“ Hyung ,” Jeongguk corrects himself, gritting his teeth. “Jimin hyung.”

“So he’s the reason why you’re walking so bow-legged.”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk huffs. “Just wait till I make you do what I had to do. You won’t find it funny.”

“I’d rather not do anything with you that you two have done together . You’re like a little brother to me.”

Jeongguk shoves Yoongi’s shoulder, glaring when it only makes them laugh harder. 

“I need better friends, and a new roommate.”

“My name’s on the lease. You’re stuck with me,” the smaller man grins. "Besides, who would wake you up in the morning?"

"I'm sure I'd find a reason to pull myself out of bed," he mutters, watching as Jimin spins on the ice with incredible speed and agility, back arching, body graceful in the pose. 

Yoongi follows his gaze out across the rink, his expression somewhat serious, pinched with a familiar kind of worry. 

“You gonna tell him about your big fat crush?”

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Good one,” Seokjin snorts. “And I’m ugly.”

“You said it.”

Jeongguk throws himself back towards Namjoon to avoid being smacked. 

“Settle down, children,” the defenseman orders, keeping his gaze resolutely on the page he’s reading. 

“It’s almost like you guys forget I’m your captain, and that I decide whether you do drills or not.”

It gets quiet before Jin suddenly exclaims, “Did you guys see Jeongguk yesterday? Your hair is getting so long.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, his tone of voice higher than usual, and laced with admiration. “You’ve got great flow.”

“ Amazing flow.” Seokjin embellishes, making Namjoon snort in amusement.

“You should just tell him,” he shrugs, turning the page while Jeongguk shoots him a betrayed look when he takes their side.

“I don’t know him,” he argues sensibly. “You can’t just tell someone you don’t know that you like them.” 

“This isn’t grade school. Get to know him.”

“Joon’s got a point,” Jin agrees. “If you’re spending some one on one time together, it should be a piece of cake.”

“You have too much faith in me. I feel like I become a bumbling idiot whenever I'm around him.”

“I believe it,” Yoongi mutters. 

“You’re lucky he’s not my type,” Seokjin declares. “The way he humiliated all of us on the ice the other day was hot.”

“Seriously?” Namjoon demands, clear judgement in both his tone and gaze. 

“Don’t kinkshame me.”

“I second that motion,” Yoongi states, raising his hand, and Jeongguk can’t help but join. 

“Third."

Namjoon looks at them all before shrugging again, shaking his head as he goes back to attempting to drown them out. 

“How’s he so fucking fast,” Yoongi wonders, and they all turn to watch as Jimin speeds across the rink, their eyes barely able to keep up with him. 

“He’s filthy,” Jin whispers, a collective murmur of agreement resounding before Jeongguk reaches over and cuffs the back of his head. 

“What was that for?” he complains, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sounds obscene when you say it.”

“...Fair enough.”

“Is it a requirement for figure skaters to be pretty?”

Jeongguk turns and raises an imploring brow at Yoongi before looking back towards the ice, following his gaze and settling on one of the other male solo skaters, someone he’s seen Jimin hanging out with often. 

“The one in green?” Seokjin wonders, clear interest in his voice. 

“No, the one with the rainbow stripe on the side of his pants.”

Jeongguk eyes them both, snorting over how enamored they look. 

“Unbelievable.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi sighs.

Jeongguk takes another bite of his food, unable to help the way his eyes follow Jimin.

"Hypocrites."

❄⛸🏒❄

The second night with the skater consists of putting into practice what he learned in the gym, only this time on the ice. 

Jimin watches from the walls, leaning over them as he calls after Jeongguk repeatedly, voice echoing in the vast quiet of the rink.

“Open your hips,” he keeps yelling, tone clearly losing patience each time. 

How is he supposed to open his hips ? 

Why is he opening his hips? 

After the fifth instance of Jimin shouting the same phrase with no further explanation, Jeongguk turns his feet, shredding the ice to come to a stop and raising a confused brow at him. 

“Are you gonna tell me what you mean—”

Jimin moves towards the rink's entrance in an instant, walking out onto the ice in his Chelsea boots and peacoat, wearing one of those newsboy hats he has no idea what the official name of is. He's not even slightly unsteady as he marches towards Jeongguk, stopping directly in front of him. 

He looks like a dream.

“Keep your glide leg pointed forward,” he explains, oblivious to Jeongguk’s thoughts as he moves around his body to position him how he wants, hands burning with heat when they travel down the muscles of his calf, easily discernible even through all of his layers. “Turn your extended leg out.”

Jimin backs away and does so himself in demonstration, nodding when Jeongguk follows suit. 

“You're closing up, and if your form is closed you won't get as much range of motion, so, open your hips,” he concludes motioning to his stance, and Jeongguk surmises that it’s figure skating terminology, or something. 

He gets back to it, Jimin continuing to periodically yell after him. 

“You’re extending too far that your glide leg is suffering. Lower. You need to be lower to the ice!”

Jeongguk winces and tries, but he’s still sore, legs shaky, muscles protesting. 

“Push through,” he encourages, and Jeongguk finds himself gritting past the pain, wanting to do just that. “Knees in front of toes!”

He corrects himself after every reminder.

When his form is up to par, Jimin tells him to wait at the walls, phone out and the familiar stopwatch open. 

“There and back, just once.”

Jeongguk nods at the simple instructions, getting into position.

“On three. One...two...three.”

He takes off with one thought on his mind. There and back, just like Jimin said.

❄⛸🏒❄

He’s panting when they finally call it a night, sweat beading at his hairline and an exhaustion settling heavily in his bones. 

“You did well," Jimin praises, making his cheeks burn. "You’re already faster than you were before.”

“Yeah?” He wonders, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Yeah,” Jimin assures with a smile. “Your ankles are bending too far, though, but we’ll correct it next time.” 

“Are we still going to be working on the ice?”

“For now. Have to give your muscles a few days to recover. Then it’s back to drills.”

Jeongguk groans, but smiles when he sees Jimin smile, and despite how sore he is, it's the good kind. The kind that solidifies he worked hard.

"It's late,” he mumbles, attempting to summon courage where there is none. “Let me walk you to your car," he offers, trying not to appear too nervous when Jimin looks up at him with a knowing grin.

"It's ok, it's not too far."

"Still," Jeongguk insists, his eyes flying to one of the windows. "It's really dark out, and the parking lot isn't that well lit."

"Alright,” he concedes, smile softening. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would,” Jeongguk admits, nodding adamantly. 

It’s slightly warmer when they step out of the building together, but still chilly enough to have Jeongguk shoving his hands in his jacket pockets in an effort to keep them warm. 

“This is me,” Jimin says as they approach a sleek, black car that Jeongguk is pretty sure costs more than his grandparent's house, unlocking the doors with a remote on his keys. “Now who’s going to walk you to your car?”

He can’t help but toe at the ground, a shy smile making his cheeks puff up. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“You sure? You’re at a disadvantage right now with those strained muscles.”

“Which is your fault.”

“I know, that’s why I brought it up.”

“Don’t wanna feel guilty if something were to happen to me?”

“Now you’re catching on. I'm more worried about how I'll feel.”

“Naw, I bet you’re lying. Probably a big softie on the inside, you’d definitely feel bad.”

“If that’s what you need to believe, keep telling yourself that,” he shrugs, but Jeongguk smiles when he hears him giggle softly.

“Goodnight, Jimin hyung. Thanks for all your help.”

Jimin pauses as he goes to climb in, placing an arm on top of the still-open driver’s side door, leaning forward in order to rest his chin on top of his hand. 

“You’re welcome, Jeongguk-ah. You did really well today. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees happily, turning and slowly making his way to the other side of the parking lot. 

He’s halfway there when he’s caught in headlights, and Jeongguk shields his eyes, heart thumping in his chest as his vision tries to adjust. For a second he feels regret for claiming he'd be fine on his own, but then he spots Jimin behind the wheel, following him at a crawl, making sure he gets to his car okay. 

Jeongguk can’t help the giant smile that takes over his lips, Jimin staying with him until he’s got his car started, the two of them leaving the parking lot, one after the other.

❄⛸🏒❄

There's something almost satisfying about the sound of his teammate's groans as he walks up and down the rows they've created, while Jeongguk puts them through the same workout drills that Jimin put him through.

"Lower," he calls, smirking when the groans turn into whines. 

At least he can say he wasn't this dramatic when he was going through it. And if he was, well, they weren’t there to be able to claim otherwise.

"You're gonna give me a groin injury," Seokjin complains as he passes, legs visibly shaking where they’re stretched out along the taped lines. 

"Make sure your knee is over your toes, and use that leg to push up more. If you keep all your weight on your glide leg you'll be a lot less stable."

Repeating the advice Jimin gave him and visibly seeing the way it helps fills him with anticipation for his next practice session with the skater.

"Lower," he yells again, chuckling when the whole room echoes in a fit of grumbles.

❄⛸🏒❄

They're in the locker room, empty save for them this time of night, and Jeongguk raises a brow as Jimin studies his skates from his seat on the bench.

"How long have you had these?"

Longer than he knows he should, but Jeongguk prefers that pair to any of his others. 

"A while," he answers, not wanting to elaborate.

"You're leaning inwards on your inside edges, which means you're not getting enough support here," he explains, pulling at the sides of the skate. "This doesn't even feel stiff anymore."

"I told you, we need the mobility." 

"Right, but you can still have a range of motion front and back while your ankles are supported, which they need to be if you wanna make your turns."

Jeongguk swallows nervously as Jimin studies his skates a while longer, passing them off with a frown.

"Put them on for me. I wanna see something."

Jeongguk does as he's told, slipping them on and lacing them up with practiced motions. 

Jimin approaches once he's finished, lowering himself onto the ground next to him.

"May I?" He asks, holding up a hand, two fingers pointed while the others curl against his palm.

Jeongguk nods, even though he has no idea what he's agreeing to. He watches silently as Jimin takes his index and middle finger and guides them down the inside of his skate near his instep, making Jeongguk shiver. He does the same on both sides for both skates, guiding them around before gaining his feet with a shake of his head.

"The heels are fine, but your ankle has no support where it needs it most. The foam has lost all of its shape and the sides are too loose. You need new skates."

Jeongguk sighs, that being the last thing he wants to hear. 

"I don't want to break in a new pair of skates right before the final."

"I don't think you wanna break an ankle, either, so the former option is probably better. I'm actually impressed you haven't damaged yourself yet."

"Thanks?"

"Why'd you wait so long to change them out?"

Jeongguk shrugs, looking down as he hesitates. 

"They were a gift from my dad."

"Oh, well I'm sure he'd understand—"

"He died two years ago."

"Oh... shit ...I'm sorry."

Jeongguk gives what he hopes to be a reassuring smile and shakes his head.

"It's okay. Really. It was a long time ago."

It gets quiet after that, and Jeongguk wants to kick himself for making everything so awkward.

"Come on," Jimin suddenly says, exiting the row of lockers after Jeongguk removes his skates.

"Where are we going?"

"The gym, for now, until we can get you new skates."

"We're not working on explosive starts, are we?" He asks, trepidation clear in his voice, much to Jimin's amusement.

"Not tonight," he answers with a grin, leading them towards the training room. "Tonight we're doing ankle strengthening exercises."

He says it so excitedly that Jeongguk gets a bad feeling.

❄⛸🏒❄

There's a resistance band wrapped beneath each set of his toes and tied at the top of his feet, the ends of both coiled around and gripped tight in his hands. Jeongguk alternates between pointing one and then relaxing it to switch to the other.

"How's it feel?" Jimin asks absently, watching from his slumped position on the leg press, chin in the palm of his hand.

"Fine," Jeongguk answers honestly, thighs protesting every now and then from residual soreness, but other than that it's a piece of cake. "This is so much easier than the last exercises you had me doing.

Jimin snorts. 

"You'd be surprised."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Try rotating your foot to the side."

Jeongguk does and continues his reps, guilt pulling at him whenever he looks over and sees how heavy Jimin’s eyes appear.

“You look exhausted.”

As if in answer, Jimin yawns and shrugs. 

“A lot of projects to finish up for classes, trying to get some extra practice time in whenever I can on top of everything else. Haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”

Jeongguk blinks, motionless while he processes that, jumping back into his exercises when he remembers himself. 

“You know, if it’s too much...we don’t have to meet up anymore. I appreciate all your help, hyung, but you’ve done more than enough. You should be your first priority.”

Jimin gazes at him, stricken, lips parted, eyes wide. Jeongguk stares back, wondering if he may have said something to offend the skater, but then breathes a sigh of relief as Jimin directs a soft, sincere smile his way. 

"I’m okay, Jeongguk-ah. Really. Plus, I want to help you. I’m invested now.”

Jeongguk smiles back at him, feeling warmth burn in his stomach as he continues with his exercises. 

A strong wave of relief washes over him that Jimin is choosing to stay. He meant what he said, of course. If Jimin is too busy, he’d rather end this now so he won’t burn himself out. But the selfish part of him still wants to hold onto the skater with both hands. 

It’s nearing eight when they end it, and when Jeongguk goes to stand he nearly falls to the mat, saved only by Jimin’s hand wrapping around his bicep. His heart hammers in his chest at his close call, ankles feeling like gelatin and not wanting to cooperate. 

“They’ll be sore for a while,” Jimin explains, giving him a sympathetic look. “Should probably soak ‘em in ice when you get home.”

“Why is it that after every gym session I have with you I can’t walk afterwards?”

He says it jokingly, but Jeongguk watches the way a blush spreads over Jimin’s round cheeks, his eyes seeming to look anywhere but him.

“You have to train the right muscles if you wanna skate properly,” he offers in a rush, appearing almost frazzled as he leads them out of the gym and back towards the locker room. 

Jimin gathers his belongings quickly, explaining about how he has some study group to get to and exiting the building before Jeongguk can even offer to escort him to his car again. 

Not that he can, in his condition.

Jeongguk sighs to himself in disappointment, and makes the short trip home, only realizing once he’s through the door to his shared apartment that he doesn’t have his skates. 

❄⛸🏒❄

His feet look blue. 

Collapsed on the couch in his living room, Jeongguk eyes the aforementioned feet in an ice bath, frozen packs strapped to his hips. That's how Yoongi finds him when he comes home. He takes one look at him and scoffs with a shake of his head, appearing horrified.

“Tell me we’re not gonna do whatever it is you did tonight.”

Jeongguk only beams at him in answer, delighting in the way the older man groans, cursing his way to his room down the hall. 

His phone vibrates near his thigh a moment later, and Jeongguk checks it with a frown, sitting up when he sees it’s from Jimin.

I was in such a hurry I didn’t realize I grabbed your skates. I’ll get them back to you asap, but you really should start practicing with a new pair.

Jeongguk’s anxiety on the matter is alleviated, grateful that he didn’t misplace them and that they’re in Jimin’s possession, but that relief is short-lived when the rest of the message sinks in. He’s going to have to replace the worn pair.

You’re right. I’ll start using new ones tomorrow. Thanks for letting me know. Thought I’d lost them.

No problem. How are your ankles?

Jeongguk clicks his tongue, getting a picture of his feet in his makeshift ice bath and sending it to Jimin with the frozen face emoji, the skater sending an immediate reply.

Keep them elevated too! Hope they don’t hurt too bad. See you tomorrow Jeongguk.

See you tomorrow, hyung.

Jeongguk tolerates the ice bath for five more minutes before he heads off to take a scalding hot shower.

❄⛸🏒❄

The new pair of skates suck, just like Jeongguk knew they would. They’re too stiff, digging into his ankles and making the vulnerable skin protest. But Jimin is right. In the end, sore ankles are better than broken ones. 

He still has the others working on speed drills, and every time he has to tell someone to go lower he threatens to add on five more minutes to their time. He’s never seen them so determined to keep that from happening. 

“I hate you,” Yoongi growls as he passes by him, and Jeongguk can’t help but laugh. 

“You’ll thank me later.”

“After I murder you, maybe,” he threatens, pivoting and heading towards the back wall. 

Every one of his teammates is glaring at him, and it only subsides after he dismisses them when their time is up, the groans of complaint following them to the lockers. 

He doesn’t have much in the way of sympathy. They’re trying to win, after all, and right now, with Jimin's help, it feels like he’s set them on the path to achieve that goal.

It’s just not an easy path to follow.

❄⛸🏒❄

End of the year always means projects and tests. Just another thing to add to the growing mountain of assignments that is only rivaled by the sheer size of his stress.

Jeongguk is resisting the urge to pull his hair out by the time he gets to his bio class, the professor immediately opening with the news of an upcoming quiz, valiantly ignoring the crescendo of groans and complaints that rise in answer.

His eyes drift to a few rows in front of him, a seemingly automatic response learned out of familiarity.

It's instinctual now.

Jimin sits up straight in his seat, perfect posture while one hand props up his textbook, the other covering his phone, hidden away in the pages.

He's watching baby animal videos again. What looks to be kittens, this time, and Jeongguk can't help but feel the figure skater is on to something.

Maybe his stress would be more manageable if he took the time to watch something healing.

Or maybe he needs an outlet, like art or...writing? Though hockey tends to take up the majority of his free time.

"You just need to get laid," Yoongi mutters, after Jeongguk poses the dilemma to him later at home.

He can't really argue with that.

❄⛸🏒❄

“Check!” Jimin yells again when he turns, moving from one side of the rink to the other. He does that far too often; ordering him around using terms Jeongguk has no idea what the meaning behind them is. It’s frustrating. 

“Check,” Jimin repeats again, his indignation trying Jeongguk’s own patience. 

“Check what ?” He calls back, irritation in his voice. 

“Yourself,” Jimin huffs, taking a deep breath in what must be an effort to calm down. He glides gracefully up to him, gripping both of Jeongguk’s shoulders in his smaller hands and forcing his posture to straighten. 

“Sometimes I forget you don’t know what I’m talking about, so I apologize,” he admits easily, and Jeongguk opens and closes his mouth, the skater moving on before he finds the words to acknowledge the apology or voice his gratitude for it. 

“Your control suffers every time you pivot, which keeps slowing you down. When I say check, I want you to be more aware of your upper body. You should be using it to pull against the rotation you’re doing in order to gain more control,” he explains before skating away.

“Watch me.”

Jeongguk watches, but he’s still not sure if he can emulate what Jimin shows him. 

“When you pivot, you’re mostly using your lower body to do all the work, but if you added the momentum of your upper body, using your torso to lead the turn, you wouldn’t use up half the energy you use now. Your control will be better, it won’t be as tiring and you’ll be faster. Now, you try.”

Jeongguk goes, listening when Jimin yells, “ check ” this time, but he nearly falls when he makes the attempt. 

“Again.”

Jeongguk does it again, and this time he manages to keep his footing, but his technique is shit. 

“Better. Again.”

Jeongguk goes again and again and again, until Jimin is clapping, an adorable look of delight gracing his features that makes Jeongguk feel more proud at being the cause of, than he does at executing the rotation properly. 

“Much improved. How’s it feel?”

“I feel faster,” he admits. “More in control of my turns.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Now, once more from the start.”

❄⛸🏒❄

“Any progress?” Sejin asks from behind his desk, gaze critical, and Jeongguk nods, trying to dispel some of the nerves he always gets when he updates the older man on the team. 

"I’m taking all the advice I get from Park Jimin and implementing it into training sessions and practices. It’s steady going, but I am seeing positive results. Timing is better, as well as form.”

Sejin raises a surprised brow.

“Park Jimin is still helping you?”

“During the evenings, when he’s free.”

“That’s good to hear. I was sure he would stop after the one time he spoke to me about. What does he have you focusing on?”

“Drills, mostly, and strengthening exercises that help with performance and speed.”

“How are the others taking it?”

“They’re not easy exercises,” is Jeongguk’s answer. “But the complaints are minimal. They just want to do what needs to be done in order to win.”

Sejin nods, a furrow between his brows. 

“Keep me updated.”

❄⛸🏒❄

“You’re the devil,” Seokjin grumbles as he attempts to lower himself in his usual spot, nearly losing his lunch in the process, but quickly catching it.

“The pet names are cute,” is Jeongguk’s distracted answer as he sends a reply to Jimin's text, assuring him that he’ll be able to meet later in the evening, his eyes automatically finding him as he laces up his skates across the rink, using his lunch hour to practice.

As per usual.

“Even Namjoon is starting to dislike you.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” the defensemen mutters, reading yet another book, different from the last one. 

“All I know is I’m hearing a bunch of whining when I’m just trying to keep us from losing and embarrassing ourselves the way we did last year. But if you’d like a repeat of that experience feel free to slack off.”

“You’re no fun when you use logic,” Yoongi mutters, inclining his head towards Namjoon. “You’ve been hanging around him too long.”

“Sounds to me like you’re admitting I’m the only logical influence in this group, which isn’t the insult you think it is.”

“I think you think you’re logical. When really you’re just a stick in the mud.”

Seokjin snickers, and even Jeongguk can’t stop his lip from twitching upward. 

“At least I’m not crying about my legs hurting all day.”

“I’m not crying about it all day,” Yoongi growls, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Fine, half the day. The other half you won’t shut up about that guy,” Namjoon huffs, finally looking away from his book in order to point towards the ice, Jeongguk’s gaze following. 

“Put your hand down, for fuck’s sakes,” Yoongi whisper-yells even though no one is around, yanking desperately on Namjoon’s arm, without success. The man is as immovable as a brick wall with biceps just as thick. "You can't just point at people like that."

Jeongguk remembers the willowy man on the ice. Yoongi was staring at him the last couple of times they had lunch, and he’s seen him with Jimin on plenty of occasions, around campus and practicing together. He’s also pretty sure he has a class with him…

“Hoseok,” he blurts out. “I think his name is Hoseok.”

“ Jung Hoseok,” Yoongi corrects. 

“So you’re whining about him, huh?”

“Don’t you start—”

“After you gave me shit about my crush.”

“I’m not the only one,” Yoongi deflects hurriedly, turning towards Seokjin, the older man’s eyes widening from the attention.

“Don’t drag me into this," he warns. "I haven’t even said anything.”

“He likes that other skater.”

“You bitch.”

Jeongguk feigns shock as he turns back towards the ice once more.

“It wouldn’t be the one in beige, would it?”

“None of your business,” Seokjin answers haughtily, only to have Yoongi answer for him.

“Kim Taehyung,” he mock-sighs, batting his lashes, undeterred by Jin’s glare.

“You’re literally in the same boat as me, I’d watch it.”

Yoongi stops, though his mouth settles into a thin line. 

Jeongguk shakes his head and clicks his tongue. 

“What happened to all that wonderful advice you guys gave me before? You remember? All the 'just go talk to him,' and 'what's the worst that could happen?'”

“We didn’t want to make fools of ourselves.”

"But it was okay to watch me make a fool of myself ?"

"Doesn't negatively affect me," Seokjin shrugs.

“I hate you guys.”

“At least you get to spend alone time with Jimin. I’m still trying to find an in. So far it's just been meeting eyes accidentally ,” Jin complains, and Yoongi nods in commiseration. 

“I’m never talking to him,” he declares with finality. “I just like to look at him.”

Namjoon chuckles, eyes still glued to his book. 

“You’re all going to be single forever.”

Jeongguk looks back at the skaters on the ice, immediately finding Jimin as he lowers himself into a tight spin, one leg extended out.

He sincerely hopes Namjoon is wrong, and that he somehow works up the courage to tell Jimin about his feelings. 

Someday.

❄⛸🏒❄

“Get your hips under you,” Jimin orders, powder-blue hair windswept as he keeps up with Jeongguk, but stays out of his way. The color keeps lightening, likely fading with each wash. 

Jeongguk still thinks it’s pretty.

He’s on the ice this time, explaining that he intends to get a closer look at his form, and Jeongguk tries not to get distracted as he skates around him. 

“Straighten your body, use all of your weight through your pushing foot. If your hips are back, your weight is forward and you can’t get as much speed. Now, knees bent, hips under, feel that? You can put more pressure on the ice this way. The more you’re able to push, the faster you’ll go.”

Jeongguk does as he’s told, a giddy kind of elation filling him when he experiences the improvements as soon as he takes the advice. 

“Better?” Jimin calls out, and Jeongguk nods.

“Better.”

“Good, now pivot.”

Jeongguk pivots, feeling less confident as he skates backwards, his control immediately suffering, speed slowing.

“This is what we need to work on now,” Jimin reveals, as if he knew this would happen. “You’re going to be put in a defensive position during the game. You need to perfect your form for when you are.”

Jeongguk nods and listens as Jimin begins to correct him. 

“Your ankles are bending too far inwards, always be aware of your ankles. They will make or break you when it comes to speed. Straighten up.”

Jeongguk pushes his ankles out, the position less comfortable, but Jimin nods in approval. 

“Good, knees bent a little more, but not too far, you don’t want your ass to stick out too much or all your weight goes to the back. Good, just like that. Now, alternate your legs.”

Jeongguk does, and immediately he feels a difference, recalling the drills Jimin had him doing that first night, and Jimin smiles at him, as if reading his mind.

“You remember those exercises, don’t you? Are they helping now?”

“They are,” Jeongguk admits with a smirk of his own, and it’s worth it to see how pleased Jimin looks. 

“We’re going back to the gym next time to do them again. The better and faster you become doing those, the more it’ll transfer over when you’re on the ice.”

Jeongguk wants to groan, but Jimin is smiling, so Jeongguk smiles with him instead.

❄⛸🏒❄

Between the blur of college assignments, team practice, and working himself into the ground during Jimin's gym sessions, Jeongguk experiences burnout. His muscles are in a constant state of ache. The sleep he gets is fitful and rare and he finds himself sinking deeply in inappropriate places, body heavy, lids blinking only to not reopen until he's roused.

"Jeongguk-ah," Yoongi calls, louder than he usually speaks.

He starts, jerking upright, disoriented. There's a plate next to him, rice sticking to his lips, but thankfully nowhere else. At least he didn't fall asleep in his food.

This time.

"Dozed off," he rasps in explanation, wiping at his puffy eyes and dislodging the rice from his mouth.

"Bed," the older man orders, no room for argument, which Jeongguk has no desire to do.

He doesn't learn after that incident, and falls asleep in worse places. Class, the locker room. Even at the gym, when he's supposed to be working on reps, Jimin gently shaking him. 

"You okay?"

"M'fine," he slurs, inhaling deeply and looking around with narrowed eyes. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. We can end it now. You should get some rest."

Jeongguk shakes his head, stretching his arms up with a groan.

"Too much to do."

"You're not going to be able to do any of it if you don't get some sleep."

"I'll be okay."

"Sure, but I'm not letting you drive home like this. Come on."

Jimin leads him down the hall, entering the staff room with the small kitchenette. It has a coffee pot, and other caffeinated beverages in a vending machine.

Jeongguk combs the cupboards, setting about making some coffee while Jimin nurses his water bottle at one of the tiny circular tables. Jeongguk joins him once he's got a steaming mug cupped in his hands, taking care to make sure he doesn't spill it.

The first sip has an instantaneous effect, the heat nearly scalding his tongue, but it wakes him up. Jimin watches him with intent eyes, and Jeongguk has to fight not to fidget with nerves.

"End of the year kicking your ass, too?"

The tension drains from him at Jimin's posed question and he nods with a rushed exhale, taking another drink. 

"Don't remember it being this hard last year."

"Me neither. I'm surprised you and I didn't meet sooner. We're in the same department," he mutters, absently motioning around, a gesture that Jeongguk can't help but focus on, delicate and graceful, like his skating. Like the rest of him.

"I knew who you were before we met," Jeongguk reveals without thinking the words through, too tired for his usual, careful filter.

"You did?"

His eyes widen when realization hits, and Jeongguk doesn't want to admit to it, but from Jimin's expression alone, it's clear he already has an idea of what he means.

"I learned coming here that people talk a lot."

Jimin smiles, though it's not the kind that reaches his eyes.

"Ahhh," he hums in understanding, the small smattering of freckles that adorns his cheeks for once visible without his usual flush from the ice. "I transferred here after freshman year," he starts, gazing at the generic tabletop, unseeing while he speaks. "I didn't socialize much, and people tend to fill in the blank spaces with whatever they want when they can't get answers," he finishes with a shrug, as if to say 'what can you do.' 

But these are rumors that specifically attack his character or background, and Jeongguk hates that, feeling an even greater sadness that Jimin feels he just has to accept it. 

"They're idiots," he grumbles, and the older man huffs out a laugh, lids fluttering as he glances at Jeongguk. 

"Never believed any of the rumors?"

"Never," he affirms, taking another sip of coffee.

Something feels as if it shifts between them, a new path revealed that they could traverse if they choose. Jimin seems to wait there with him, wondering which way he'll go.

❄⛸🏒❄

"You're sure you're okay to drive home?

"I'm sure, hyung. Wide awake, now," he assures, motioning to the caffeinated drink he bought from the vending machine before they left the small staff lounge. 

Jimin walks him to his car this time, looking down at the scuffed up toes of his shoes, the apples of his cheeks turning pink, but Jeongguk can't tell if it's a blush or from the cold.

"Will you text me? Let me know when you're home?"

Jeongguk's chest constricts for more than one reason, lips dry and a lump in his throat.

He nods, not yet trusting his voice, but after a moment of stretched silence feels compelled to fill it. 

"Thank you for looking after me, hyung. It means a lot."

Jimin's eyes seem to shine in the dim parking lot lighting, his expression soft and open. Jeongguk wants to see him like that all the time, vulnerable, because he knows Jeongguk will take care of him as well. 

"Text me," Jimin reminds, motioning for him to get in his car. "Come on, silly. It's cold and you're tired."

Jeongguk gets in, but he still follows Jimin to his car, making sure he's safe before they both drive away. 

He texts Jimin as soon as he's through the door to his apartment. A simple made it safely with a smiley face. 

He's collapsed on his bed when he gets a response, the red heart emoji seeming to laugh at him as it throws his mind into chaos.

Don't overthink it, a part of him says, while the other has a meltdown, that single red heart following him into sleep.

❄⛸🏒❄

It’s cold on the sidelines, and Jeongguk shivers from behind the walls as he takes a break, watching with rapt attention while Jimin skates across the rink, performing what looks to be a routine of sorts, keeping time even without music. 

Once again he is reminded of how multifaceted and talented Jimin is, movements graceful and elegant, from the tips of his fingers to the blades of his skates, everything is perfectly in balance, poised, and beautiful. 

When it ends and Jimin comes to a slow stop near Jeongguk’s resting place, he gathers the courage to ask. 

“Was that your routine? You're competing soon, right?”

He nods, looking almost hesitant to meet Jeongguk’s gaze.

“What did you think?”

“I think you’re amazing,” he blurts out honestly, heart quickening when Jimin’s eyes snap up. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“There’s still a lot I need to fix,” he says, trying to avoid the compliments. 

“Not from where I was sitting. You were perfect.”

Jimin gives a quiet snort and shakes his head, but there’s red blooming in his cheeks, fingers tugging and pulling at his sleeves in a nervous habit. 

“Haven’t had much time to make changes.”

Jeongguk frowns at that admission. It’s not the first time, and a sinking feeling pulls at his stomach. 

“Hyung, if you need more time, we can end the sessions right now. I promise I’m more than okay with it.”

“No,” Jimin denies quickly, and something hard and determined flashes in his eyes. “I don’t need more time, Jeongguk-ah. I practice enough, I promise. And there is such a thing as practicing too much. I only meant that if I wanted to add anything to my program or take something out, I haven’t given it much thought, that’s all.”

Jeongguk is reluctant to let the issue go, but he can’t argue with the older man. 

“If you’re sure, hyung.”

“I’m sure. I know it like the back of my hand, it just...it feels like something’s missing. Like it needs more.”

“More what?”

Jimin shrugs.

“Not really sure,” he admits, and Jeongguk wants nothing more than to help him find the answers, but then the skater claps his hands together and motions for Jeongguk to join him. “Let’s get back to it.”

❄⛸🏒❄

Skating backwards isn’t necessarily difficult. However, when speed, precision and control are required, the difficulty level is raised, and Jeongguk fumbles sometimes, losing his balance entirely on more than one occasion, embarrassed. He’s been skating for years, and he still falls on his ass.

“Again,” Jimin calls, though he does offer a hand, pulling Jeongguk to his feet easily. 

Jeongguk goes again, ankles straight, alternating his legs as he attempts to follow the rink in his peripheral, so as not to run into any walls. 

“You’re being too careful when you need to be faster. Again!”

Jeongguk goes again, only to lose his balance and fall on his ass for the tenth time. Jimin leans down, offering his hand once more, but he doesn’t pull Jeongguk up when he takes it—not right away—just holds it in his own, gaze intense. 

“You’re sacrificing control for speed when you need the two together. Now,” he pulls Jeongguk up with a grunt and releases him, “watch me.”

Jimin is...well, he’s always been fast, but his talent is clearly unparalleled, and Jeongguk watches in awe of how easy and effortless he manages to make it appear, which is far from the truth. 

“It’s like you panic when you attempt to gain speed,” he calls as he glides across the ice. “Your movements become jerky and uncoordinated. You need to be more fluid and smooth. Keep that control. Remember your form.”

Jimin skates up to him, and Jeongguk’s breath hitches when the distance between them gets smaller and smaller. 

“Can I try something?”

Jeongguk struggles to swallow but nods. 

“I’ll move forward, and you move back. Just do what I do. Get the feel for it.”

He nods again, moving when Jimin inclines his head, concentrating.

“Not too fast,” he corrects right away, reaching out, his warm hands gripping Jeongguk’s hips. 

Oh no.

“We’re going slow, for now. Getting used to the movements.”

Jeongguk slows, but even then Jimin doesn’t release him, and the two of them skate across the rink, Jeongguk’s movements mirroring Jimin’s own, even if their eyes never stray from each other’s. He goes when Jimin goes, right leg matching his left, left leg matching his right, while Jimin’s touch grounds him. 

“Good,” he praises, “you’re doing well. Now, a little faster.”

Jeongguk reaches out in a knee-jerk reaction when Jimin speeds up, his hands gripping the figure skater’s shoulders, their movements becoming quicker.

“Got it?”

“Almost fell again,” he admits, and Jimin gifts him with a warm smile. 

“I’ve got you. Straighten your ankles, and keep following my lead.”

Jeongguk does, and for a moment, it feels like they’re not skating at all, they’re just moving in tandem, staring into each other with an openness that makes his heart rabbit in his chest, butterflies flapping their tiny wings in his stomach.

Time slips away, the laps they’ve done around the rink too many to count when Jimin releases him—to Jeongguk’s immense disappointment—but lets his own hands fall as well. 

“Now, try again by yourself, and we’ll see if that helped.”

It did. Jeongguk already feels back in control again, his speed improved, but he almost wants to lie and say it didn’t, just so he can have an excuse to be back in Jimin’s arms once more.  

❄⛸🏒❄

“I have something for you,” Jimin admits in the locker room, head down, cheeks pink, and his hands attempting to hide whatever it is behind his back. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, panic setting in as he wonders if he’s missed something crucial that would point towards the reason why Park Jimin is potentially giving him a gift.

“For me?”

Jimin nods, taking in a deep breath, bringing his hands around and revealing…

Jeongguk’s own breath leaves him on a shaky exhale. 

“My skates,” he says in awe, because that’s what they are. Jimin holds the skates his father gave him all those years ago, the last pair he bought before the accident. His hands shake as he reaches for them, and before he makes contact with the lining he knows they’re different. They look better than they have in a long time. Maybe even better than they were brand new. 

“What—"

“I had them repaired,” Jimin reveals before he can ask. He looks sheepish and more than a little nervous, hand fluffing up the back of his hair. “I have a friend who owns a skate shop, and they owed me a favor, so…” he shrugs, as if to say it's no big deal. 

Jeongguk's eyes become glassy, vision swimming and his throat closing up. He doesn't want to break down, especially not in front of Jimin after this amazing gesture, so he takes deep, even breaths and blinks away the moisture in his eyes, words seeming inadequate. 

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment, eyes downcast while he wipes at his face. "I'm really overwhelmed. Don't know what to say. How to thank you," he admits, and when he looks back up, Jimin is gazing at him with such fondness that it takes Jeongguk's breath away for the second time.

"You don't have to say anything," he assures softly. "I was more than happy to do it."

Maybe it's what Jimin did for him and his old pair of skates that gives him the courage, but when he sees a shiver run through the figure skater just as they're leaving, he takes a chance. 

"Did you...do you wanna get some coffee? There’s a small shop around the corner that’s really good. Warm,” he finishes lamely, trying not to give away how anxious he is as he waits for the other man’s answer, hugging his skates to his chest.

“I don’t like coffee,” Jimin shrugs absently, and Jeongguk thinks that’s that . He’s just been let down easy.

But then Jimin looks up at him from beneath long lashes, halting his breath in his chest as his lips soften in a smile. 

“But I could go for some hot chocolate.”

The relief that floods him feels like a tidal wave, and Jeongguk can't help but give a nervous; but elated, smile. They leave their cars in the parking lot, walking close enough on the sidewalk to have their shoulders bumping, sides brushing.

"Did you want to leave those in your locker, or your car?" Jimin asks, motioning towards the pair of skates he still holds.

Jeongguk shakes his head, tightening his grip.

"I'll just, um...carry them," he answers, not really sure he can explain his attachment to them at this moment, after he was sure he lost them and then went through having to replace them.

They feel like a much needed safety blanket now. 

Jimin smiles at him sweetly, like he understands, and Jeongguk feels a little less ridiculous.

It’s cold out, and even though the coffee shop is close, Jeongguk still regrets not offering to drive Jimin when he sees the smaller man shiver again.

“Cold?” he asks. A silly question given that he knows the answer. 

“A little,” Jimin shrugs, and before he’s done talking Jeongguk is already gripping the tops of his skates between his thighs and taking his jacket off to offer it to the skater, who adamantly tries to refuse.

“No, no. It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“Take it,” Jeongguk insists. “We’re almost there, and I run hot anyway.”

Jimin eyes the jacket before he sighs and gives in, putting it on hastily and humming in relief. 

“You really do run hot, this feels like it just came out of a dryer.”

Jeongguk softly chuckles, hugging his skates tightly again, the two of them lapsing back into their comfortable quiet. The coffee shop is warm, and the smell inside has Jeongguk’s senses tingling, coffee beans and vanilla a soothing combination. 

Jimin orders first, a large hot chocolate with extra whip and marshmallows, while Jeongguk orders something called a sugar cookie latte with drizzle. It’ll probably give him a tummy ache later, but that’s for future him to worry about. He pays for them both, ignoring Jimin’s disgruntled protests and leading the way towards one of the many empty tables, the shop slow at this hour.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jimin tells him, still fixed on Jeongguk paying. “You are younger than me, after all. I should be treating you.”

“You treat me enough by helping me, and you repaired the skates my dad gave me. It’s just hot chocolate, hyung. It’s the least I can do. Plus, this was my idea.”

Jimin gives him a fond smile that Jeongguk can’t help but return, the quiet that settles over them a little more awkward this time, like it’s full of anticipation, expecting something to happen, to change between them, but not sure when it will. 

"Your dad," the skater starts off hesitantly, drumming his fingers on the tabletop in a nervous gesture. "He was...supportive of you playing hockey?"

Jeongguk beams.

"He was," he admits, remembering how proud his father was. "I could be a bit of a terror. Bouncing off of walls, running around screaming," he chuckles. "Hockey gave me something to focus on. Something to release all that pent up energy into. He used to come to all my games, never missed a single one, even when he had to drive up from Busan."

"Busan?" Jimin asks, tone surprised. "I'm from Busan."

"Really? I didn't realize, your accent…"

"My parents moved me to Seoul when I was a teenager, so my accent has faded a bit." 

Jeongguk nods in understanding, watching as Jimin leans further across the table. 

"He sounds like he was a great father. Going to all of your games."

"He was."

"And your mom?"

"She, uh. She doesn't leave Busan anymore. That's actually how...my dad died in a car accident, so."

It gets quiet again, Jeongguk's gaze never leaving the skates he has cradled in his lap, not able to mention the fact that his father got in that accident attempting to make it to one of his games. 

Jimin's side of the table is still, though Jeongguk nearly jumps when he feels cold hands engulf his own, small fingers squeezing him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Jeongguk-ah."

When his eyes dart up, the sincerity he sees in Jimin's eyes is nearly his undoing—

Their conversation is interrupted by the barista calling his name, and Jeongguk feels such startling relief at the end of the awkwardness he's already imposed. Jeongguk excuses himself, gently extricating his hands and goes to collect their drinks. 

“Thank you,” Jimin says immediately when Jeongguk sets his down, leaning forwards to close his mouth around the top of his whip cream mountain, eyes sliding closed as he makes a pleased noise.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” he confirms, and Jeongguk beams at him, tasting a bit of his own whip cream.

"You said before that your parents didn't approve of dance, but they were okay with figure skating?"

He doesn't know why he asks. It sounds like a sore subject, but still. There is a burning desire to learn and understand everything about the older man, and he feels that one decision that was made for him has a lot to do with who he is today.

Jimin nods in answer, whip cream decorating his top lip.

"That's why they moved me to Seoul when I was younger. Better programs out here."

"Do they come to watch you perform?"

Jimin gazes up at him through lowered lids, something bitter flashing over his features.

"They don't have time."

"Do you...do you want to keep skating?"

"I do," Jimin admits with a shrug. "But there's also a part of me that feels like I let my parents win by enjoying it. That I gave up on something that I genuinely wanted to do in order to please them. Liking it feels like a betrayal to myself."

"Or maybe you just made the best out of a bad situation."

The corners of Jimin's lips twitch up, and Jeongguk is eager to change the subject, not wanting to discuss anything heavy. He wants Jimin to be at ease. To have a good time, not be plagued by this conversation later.

“How’s your routine going?” he asks, hoping to positively engage the other man. He gets the feeling it's not the right thing to ask when he gets a sigh.

“It’s okay,” Jimin answers, but there’s that slight disappointment in his tone that he acquires whenever he speaks of it. “Taehyung and Hoseok keep telling me it’s perfect. Even my coach says it’s good, it’s just…” he trails off with a shrug, eyes gazing around the shop. “I feel like there should be more to it.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve done it so many times that it’s lost some of it’s spark.”

“Maybe,” Jimin offers, but he doesn’t sound too convinced, staring off towards the counter. 

Jeongguk is just about to try to further reassure him when Jimin claps his hands together, a smile covering his lips that feels forced while he quickly changes the subject.

“So, I have something I’ve been wondering for a while now that I want to ask you about.”

Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat, this is it, running on a loop in his mind, hope filling him as he feigns nonchalance. 

“Ask away.”

“How did you become the hockey team captain? Aren’t you like, the youngest player?”

Jeongguk’s hope crashes and burns, and he feels a little lost as he tries to focus on the question, replaying it in his head so that he can answer.

“The, um...the last captain was graduating when I joined, and most of the team was already established. There wasn’t really anyone who wanted the position, so I put in my name and the rest of them were in favor.” 

He shrugs after the explanation. It’s not really a glamorous story, but it’s the truth.

“That’s really impressive.”

“It is?”

“Of course. An established team trusting a new, younger player to lead them. I understand why. I see how hardworking you are.”

Jeongguk blushes over the compliments Jimin easily gives, his heart racing again. 

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” he says honestly, though he’s barely able to meet the figure skater’s eyes. 

“Speaking of hockey, do you have any more of those terms that you guys use? Like plumbers and yard sales?”

Jeongguk snorts at the question, shaking his head in amusement. 

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

Jimin grins, absently stirring his drink. “It’s nice to learn about the sport I’m helping you with.” 

Jeongguk's tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he thinks.

“Well...there’s face wash.”

“Face wash,” Jimin repeats, giggling in a way that constricts something in Jeongguk’s chest. 

“Yeah, it’s when you put your glove in another person’s helmet.”

To his surprise, Jimin appears delighted, asking him for more. 

“Light the lamp. That’s when you score a goal and the lights flash. Then there’s flow. When we talk about someone’s flow, we’re usually complimenting their hair.”

“Their hair,” Jimin exclaims, incredulous, and he’s got these creases next to his eyes when he smiles that make him look prettier, which shouldn’t be possible. 

“Yup. The more it hangs out of your helmet, the more impressive it is.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Then there’s gongshow. That’s when there’s fighting and things get out of hand.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Depends on who we play,” he admits. “Most teams don’t cause problems. Others do.”

“Is Hanyang one of those teams?”

“Not usually. They don’t really have to resort to fighting when they’re team is as good as they are,” he admits.

“What else,” Jimin asks, changing the subject back, and Jeongguk is grateful, not wanting to focus on the upcoming game. 

“Filthy is another one.”

“And what does filthy mean?” he questions, those creases gone, and there’s something almost...predatory in his gaze that steals Jeongguk’s breath, but then he blinks and it’s gone.

“It’s someone who’s really good at the game.”

“Now you’re just pulling my leg.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“I’m looking it up when I get home,” Jimin promises, brow suddenly furrowing. “There’s a test coming up in our biology class.”

Jeongguk blinks at the information, surprised that Jimin is aware that they share the same period. They've never acknowledged each other in their classes.

“There is,” he agrees simply, having nothing further to offer. It's just another thing adding to his stress and general exhaustion.

“It’s worth a lot of points,” Jimin continues, looking contrite as he softly brushes his hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but I won’t be able to meet up and practice with you for the next couple of days. I’m gonna need the extra time to study.”

“It’s alright, hyung,” he reassures, more than understanding. He needs to cram, too. And that’s when the idea hits him.

“Do you...maybe wanna study together?” he asks somewhat hesitantly, but Jimin lights up at the idea. 

“Like a study group?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where would we meet?”

“We could do it at my place,” he blurts out, cheeks heating when he processes his own words. “My kitchen table is big,” he attempts to explain, only to huff in frustration. “For studying. It’s big for studying...a lot of...book space.”

Jimin’s smile turns his eyes into upside down crescent moons, and Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat.

“Send me your address, then. Are you free tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow is good,” Jeongguk confirms, already pulling his phone out.

“Is it okay if someone else comes? My friend has the same class.”

He’s a master at hiding his disappointment, a part of him had been hoping to enjoy Jimin’s company alone, but he conceals it behind an easy smile. 

“Of course,” he agrees. “The more the merrier.”

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk collapses onto Yoongi as soon as he gets home, letting out a frustrated whine. Yoongi doesn’t even complain; he never does, just shifts so he can see whatever drama is currently playing on the flatscreen.

"Where's your jacket, you oaf? You're cold ," he complains. "Now I'm cold."

"Jimin has it," Jeongguk sniffs, curling up against Yoongi even as he protests. 

"Why'd you give him your jacket?"

“I like him so much, hyung,” he bemoans in answer, voice muffled from the older man’s oversized sweater. 

“I’m happy for you, Jeongguk-ah.” 

“I’m miserable.”

“Good for you.” 

“I took him out for coffee but he doesn’t like coffee. And then he didn’t want me to pay for his drink, but I did anyway. Then we talked about hockey terminology.”

“Sounds like a shitty first date.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Only it wasn’t a date."

He pauses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

"I told him about my dad."

Yoongi glances at him, his eyes softening.

"C'mere," he murmurs, wrapping Jeongguk up in his arms, hands rubbing soothing circles into his back. "You okay?"

"I think so. He told me his parents don't really support him, which is hard to get my head around cause, well. You remember how my dad was."

"I remember," Yoongi softly assures. 

"He's just so sweet, hyung. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Look, Jeongguk-ah. Sometimes we like people."

Jeongguk stays quiet, waiting for Yoongi to elaborate, but as time stretches on, he realizes he's not going to.

"That's it? Sometimes we like people ?"

"It's a part of life."

"You're not helping."

"I get that you're scared of being rejected and having your feelings crushed, trust me , but only you can stop your own suffering. You can either choose to continue quietly liking him, hoping that something good comes of it. Or you can get it over with, tell him how you feel and see if he reciprocates or not."

Jeongguk huffs.

"Don't tell me what I need to hear. Tell me what I want to hear."

"There, there," Yoongi consoles, patting the back of his head. "I'm sure he likes you too, baby."

❄⛸🏒❄

It’s strange being home so early. Jeongguk has gotten used to finishing his classes and completing his coursework in Yonsei’s vast library while he waits to practice with Jimin. He’s not going to the rink tonight. Instead, he puts effort into cleaning up his tiny apartment, desperately trying to make it appear presentable, and not like it’s shared by two college boys.  

“You’ve been running around for the last hour like a chicken with its head cut off,” Yoongi mumbles from his spot on the couch, eyes glued to their small flatscreen. 

Jeongguk lifts his sock-covered feet off of the coffee table so he can grab the empty paper plate beneath them, gently lowering his heels back down as he goes, gathering trash and straightening up. 

“I told you, Jimin’s coming over soon to study.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Shut up. Besides, it’s not going to be just us, his friend is coming too.”

“Kinky.”

Jeongguk pokes his thigh with pointed toes, grinning when Yoongi grumbles in complaint.

“You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

“No thanks. I have something I need to do.”

“What’s that?”

“This,” Yoongi answers plainly, and Jeongguk snorts and leaves him be, making his way into the kitchen to prepare some snacks. 

There’s a knock on the door five minutes later, and Jeongguk practically sprints to it before he slows his pace, running his hands through his hair and down his shirt to get rid of any wrinkles, forcing himself to take a deep breath before he answers it. 

Jimin is on the other side, looking gorgeous, the way he always does, and wearing Jeongguk's jacket. The same one he gave him on the way to the cafe and never asked to have returned. Just behind him he recognizes the other man with a bright smile and handsome features. 

“Jeongguk-ah, this is my friend, Jung Hoseok. Hoseok hyung, this is Jeon Jeongguk.”

“A pleasure,” he says, as they both bow. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?”

Jimin flashes Hoseok a look before he claps his hands. 

“Shall we? Lots of studying to do.”

R-Right,” Jeongguk agrees with a furrowed brow, moving aside and motioning for them to come in. 

The two of them remove their shoes and step inside, eyeing the apartment curiously as they move down the hall.

When they reach the living room, Jeongguk coughs pointedly in Yoongi’s direction, who still hasn’t turned to look at them. 

“This is Min Yoongi,” he introduces. “Yoongi hyung, this is Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok.”

At the sound of the second name he gives, Yoongi’s shoulders tense up, and he slowly turns with wide eyes to gawk at the other. 

"We kind of met already," Jimin awkwardly offers, attempting to cut the tension in the room.

Yoongi still hasn’t recovered, and it takes everything Jeongguk has not to fall down laughing. 

“We’ll be in here,” he finally says, taking pity on Yoongi and directing them towards the table where he has food and drinks waiting. They take a minute to get settled, setting up books and pulling out notes. 

Jeongguk is sharpening a pencil when Yoongi shuffles in with his own pile of textbooks and falls heavily into the seat next to his. 

“Joining us?” he asks without a bit of surprise and Yoongi quietly nods, not meeting his gaze. 

“What do you study?” Hoseok asks kindly, clear interest in his tone. 

“Um...musical theory.”

“Really,” he wonders in awe, and Jeongguk stares at Jimin as Jimin grins at Hoseok, something mischievous in his eyes. “That sounds cool.”

“He loves music,” Jimin shares, pointing at Hoseok with a pen. “ Loves it .”

There’s a bang under the table and Jimin winces, Jeongguk frowning at the brief flash of pain. 

“You okay?”

“Fine,” he grits. “Just stubbed my toe.”

“I love music too,” Yoongi admits in that deep voice of his, and his eyes widen as he watches Hoseok lean in.

“No kidding.”

“What are the odds,” Jimin mumbles, only for there to be another bang, Jimin hissing again.

“Hyung—"

“He’s fine,” Hoseok says reassuringly as Jimin waves away his concern, mouthing ‘toe,’ and disappearing under the table. 

Jeongguk watches as Hoseok jumps, his own face contorting into a pained expression before it smoothes out, Jimin reappearing with a satisfied grin. 

“Well, shall we study?”

❄⛸🏒❄

It gets serious after that, the three of them trading terms and the answers to review questions while Yoongi works on...whatever it is he’s working on. 

Several times, Jimin’s foot brushes against his own. Jeongguk knows it’s him, because each time their eyes meet, a charming pink color adorns the tops of Jimin’s cheeks before he averts his eyes and removes his foot. But sometime during the night, it brushes against Jeongguk’s own and stays, and his concentration suffers, but he wouldn’t remove it for the world.

It’s nearing midnight when Jeongguk yawns, but he doesn’t say anything, loath to put an end to it, not ready for that small foot to move away from his own. 

It’s Yoongi who speaks up for him. 

“We should call it,” he says, tone regretful. “It’s late, and Jeongguk-ah has to wake up in a couple of hours.”

“Same,” Jimin admits, lacing his fingers and turning out his hands, knuckles popping loudly. 

They all pack up their things, Jeongguk and Yoongi walking them to the door. 

“This was nice,” Hoseok says, though his attention is solely focused on Yoongi. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Yoongi answers, only able to meet the other man’s eyes for a moment before he looks down at the floor.

Hoseok looks endeared, and Jeongguk can’t stop the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a small smile. He meets Jimin’s identical expression, and the two of them share an amused look. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeongguk-ah,” he says quietly, and Jeongguk feels his face soften. 

“See you tomorrow, hyung. Drive safe.”

With that, they’re gone. 

❄⛸🏒❄

Jimin finds and stops him after their shared morning lecture, someone else with him. He's tall and beyond attractive, a kind of charm to him that makes Jeongguk feel strangely intimidated, along with the intense stare he directs Jeongguk's way, as if he knows something. 

The man is none other than Kim Taehyung, figure skater in the soloist division that Jimin is a part of. Jeongguk grips his notebooks tight, still not used to interacting with Jimin outside of the ice, or his terribly handsome friends.  

“Last night was fun,” he greets before shaking his head. “I mean it helped. Studying. I was wondering if you want to do it again. Study.”

“S-Sure,” Jeongguk stutters. “When did you—”

“Tonight. I mean,” he tucks his hair behind his ear, “if you’re free. I know it's Friday...”

Kim Taehyung stays quiet, though he's very distracting, eyes burning holes into Jeongguk.

“I a-am,” he stumbles to agree. “The test is in a few days anyways, so we should prepare as much as we can.”

“Exactly. So I’ll see you tonight. What time?”

“Five?”

“Perfect. See you at five, Jeongguk-ah.”

"Did...did you want to come?" he offers, extending the invite to the other skater. 

"I don't know," he admits in a deep baritone. "Is your table big enough?"

Jeongguk can't help but feel he's being made fun of, somehow, Jimin interrupts before he can answer. 

"Forgot to introduce you. Taehyung, this is Jeon Jeongguk, the hockey captain I'm helping. Jeongguk, this is Kim Taehyung, my friend."

His chest constricts at the business-like introduction, and he feels envy. He's not Park Jimin's friend or his dongsaeng. He's just that hockey captain he's teaching how to not suck.

He feels sorry for himself, a pity-party that lasts for a brief moment before he pastes on a fake smile, bowing deeply. 

"Nice to meet you," he says sincerely, Kim Taehyung returning the gesture. 

"I just might take you up on that offer," he promises. Or threatens, Jeongguk can't decide.

They leave quickly, making their way to their next class, and Jeongguk is left standing there, staring after them as he continues to grip his books like a lifeline.

❄⛸🏒❄

“Abiogenesis.”

“The synthesis in living organisms of more complex substances from simpler ones together with the storage of energy.”

“...That’s anabolism,” Jimin corrects, and Jeongguk groans, lowering his head onto the cool surface of his dining table.

“Can you read me the definition again?”

Yoongi snorts beneath his breath while Hoseok appears sympathetic, but amused at the same time. 

“A hypothetical organic phenomenon by which living organisms are created from nonliving matter,” Jimin recites, and Jeongguk huffs.

“I hate memorizing stuff.”

“I hate tests,” Hoseok chimes in, while Yoongi takes it a step further.

“I hate the educational system.”

Jeongguk laughs, rubbing at his tired eyes and blinking repeatedly, the words in the textbook swim in his vision. 

“I’m gonna make some ramen. Anyone else want some?”

“I could eat,” Yoongi answers, while Hoseok silently raises his hand.

“I’ll help you,” Jimin offers, quickly gaining his feet even as Jeongguk tries to wave him off.

“It’s just ramen, hyung.” 

“If I have to look at those definitions a minute longer I’ll lose my mind, so let me help you.”

“Sounds good.”

Jeongguk gets out a pot and takes out eight ramen packets, chuckling when Jimin opens each one meticulously as he measures out the correct amount of water. Once the stove is on and the pot is on the stove, they both silently stare at it. 

“Are we just gonna stand here and wait for it to boil?”

Jimin giggles, playfully smacking at Jeongguk’s arm. 

"When are your other friends coming?"

"Should be soon," Jeongguk mumbles, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

“I feel like I’ve already forgotten everything I’ve studied.”

“At least we are studying. I think Yoongi’s just doodling at this point.” 

Jimin giggles again before his expression turns slightly serious. 

“Is he...seeing anyone?” 

“Yoongi? No,” he answers honestly before the question sinks in, face falling. “Why? Are you...do you-”

“Oh, no,” Jimin adamantly denies when he catches on. “I was just asking for...someone.”

“Oh. Oh,” he hums, looking in the direction of the dining room table where Hoseok and Yoongi speak quietly. “That’s great. Yoongi will be thrilled,” he beams, happy for the older man that it seems like his crush isn’t as unrequited as he feared. 

It also comes with a little bit of self-pity over his own situation. Or lack of one, anyways, and he can’t help but think of Seokjin, as well. 

“Kim Taehyung is coming later, right?”

“He is.”

“And is he...seeing anyone?”

Jimin’s eyes find his, something in them appearing vulnerable, before it’s shut away behind indifference. 

“Do you like him?” he wonders, tone neutral, but slightly tight as he pulls at his shirt. “I could talk to him if you wanted-”

“No, not for me. One of my friends on the hockey team has a...nevermind. Just thought I’d ask.”

When Jeongguk looks back up, Jimin appears bright and happy, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“He’s also single, if your friend was wondering.”

Jeongguk nods at the information, jumping when he realizes the water is boiling. Jimin hands him the ramen and he puts them in carefully, loosening the noodles with a pair of chopsticks. He teaches Jimin how he makes it, the way he turns the heat down and puts the seasoning in. 

When it’s done, Jeongguk serves two bowls for Yoongi and Hoseok, but he returns to the kitchen, where he eats with Jimin, the two of them smiling as they quiz each other on terms, laughing when neither of them are sure if they’re right or wrong.  

Taehyung still hasn't arrived yet, and neither has Seokjin, Jeongguk extending the invitation to him as well when he learned of the possibility of the other figure skater joining them. 

He didn't tell him, of course, looking forward to Jin's expression when he realized who was in his apartment. 

He'd also invited Namjoon, because he liked this kind of thing. 

The door buzzes just as Jeongguk and Jimin sit back down at the kitchen table. He gains his feet again, entering the hall and pulling the door open. 

Taehyung stands just before the threshold, a long gift bag cradled in his big hand.

"I brought wine."

"To study?"

"Isn't that what people do to get through it? Drink?"

Jeongguk shrugs, taking the bottle gratefully. 

"I can hang your jacket up," he offers, opening the hall closet. 

Taehyung slips seamlessly from his coat, passing it to Jeongguk so he can hang it up with a 'thank you.'

"We're in here," Jeongguk invites, motioning Taehyung through. "I made ramen if you're hungry."

Both Jimin and Hoseok call excitedly when they see him, climbing out of their chairs to pull each other in a hug, Jimin smoothing down Taehyung's shirt with a fond expression. 

Something cold runs through Jeongguk, and he can't help but wonder if perhaps...Jimin likes Taehyung. It would explain his reaction earlier, and the way he's shot down every confession since remaining at Taehyung's side. 

But then why would he encourage Jeongguk to tell his friend that Taehyung is single?

Jeongguk quietly clears a spot for him, sitting back down in his own chair with a poorly concealed pout. It's wasted, since the door buzzes again .

"I'll get it," he mutters, maneuvering around everyone to get to the front door.

Both Seokjin and Namjoon are on the other side.

"What's got you looking so sour?" the wingman demands, Jeongguk flashing him a wide-eyed panicked expression. 

"Would you keep your voice down,'' he whisper-yells, pulling the two into the apartment, thumb thrown over his shoulder.

"There's, um, people here."

"I would think so," Namjoon explains slowly. "You did say study group , didn't you?"

Jeongguk sighs instead of answering, leading them deeper into the apartment. The only thing that uplifts his mood is Jin's face when he spots Taehyung.

His eyes widen pointedly at Jeongguk, mouthing words that he can't understand. He keeps jabbing his head towards the hall, but Jeongguk shrugs when the others seek an introduction which Yoongi is all too happy to give.

"Everyone, this is Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin. This is Kim Taehyung, Jung Hoseok, and Park Jimin."

"We've kind of met already," Jimin repeats, and Jeongguk watches as Taehyung's hand grips into his arm, eyes on Jin and Namjoon.

Or maybe just Jin?

Jeongguk looks between them, unsure if he's imagining tension or not. Seokjin doesn't seem to want to hold Taehyung's stare, while the figure skater appears more than curious. 

He shrugs it off, going back to his abandoned seat and leaving Yoongi to host. The words in his textbook recieve his glare of frustration, studying suddenly being the last thing he wants to do at this point. The chair across from him scrapes against the wooden floor, Jimin retaking his seat as well. 

A leg brushes Jeongguk's and he nearly jolts, eyes snapping up to meet Jimin's. He's smiling, gaze soft and eyes fond. A foot taps his, and he doesn't move his leg away. 

Jeongguk's frown dissipates, and he can't help but return a smile of his own.

Yoongi crowds in more chairs around the table, letting the others decide for themselves where they'll sit while he returns to his spot across from Hoseok. Jeongguk watches, hiding a small grin as Seokjin tries to put Namjoon between him and Taehyung, only for Namjoon to thwart his plan, moving clear across the other side, next to Jeongguk with a muttered breath.

“Fuck that awkwardness.”

Jeongguk almost barks out a laugh, only just managing to sustain it when Jimin's foot feels as though it's traveling up his leg.

He chokes down a swallow, looking up and across the way to judge Jimin's expression, but the figure skater keeps his gaze resolutely on his books. 

“What's everyone studying?” Hoseok asks with a beaming grin, eyes alight as he shows genuine interest. “I know the three of us have a bio test soon,” he adds, motioning to himself, Jimin, and Jeongguk. 

“Trig,” Namjoon shrugs, pulling free a giant mathbook from his book bag.

“Same,” Jin mutters, eyes swiping quickly in Taehyung's direction. 

“I'm not really studying,” Taehyung admits with a shrug. “I have an art project due, but it's mostly finished.”

“Then why'd you come to a study group, silly,” Hoseok asks, nudging him with a shoulder. 

“I brought wine,” is his answer, and Jin snorts.

“I'll take some.”

“Me too,” Yoongi adds seriously, one by one the rest of the table agrees, and Jeongguk regretfully untangles himself from Jimin's legs and goes to the kitchen for seven glasses. They're mismatched, and some of them have chips, but they'll do.

Taehyung already has the wine open, motioning for Jeongguk to hand him the first glass. They're passed around until everyone has one before them, appreciative hums sounding when the first taste is had. 

“This is really good,” Jimin compliments, swirling his glass. 

There's resounding agreement, before a quiet settles over the table, though everyone's concentration leaves a little to be desired. 

Especially the more they drink. 

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk taps his pencil against his book, clicking his tongue when it flies out of his grasp. 

Jimin giggles at the sight, and his slightly unfocused gaze alludes that the potent wine is already hitting him. 

Slipping out of his chair, Jeongguk lowers himself to the floor, searching for his wayward pencil. He finds Jimin's foot instead, toes unreasonably cute in his socks. He grabs at his ankle, not really knowing where he planned to go with this, and realizing maybe he's had a bit too much wine. 

Jimin giggles again, squirming in his hold, so Jeongguk tickles his heel and releases him, continuing on his pencil finding adventure. He finds it beneath the table leg, snatching it up like it's in danger of running away and goes to stand, forgetting he's under a table. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans, cupping his head with a hiss. 

Jimin's chair scoots back immediately and he lowers himself to the floor, concern coloring his features. 

“You okay, Jeongguk-ah?”

“Hit my head,” he explains unnecessarily, pointing at the back of his skull like an idiot. 

“Lemme see,” Jimin instructs, urging him closer. 

Jeongguk goes eagerly, not sure what Jimin plans to do, but wanting to find out. 

Gently, he grasps his head in his hands, guiding him closer. Jeongguk closes his eyes when Jimin sucks in a deep breath and blows, the strands of his hair flying in different directions.

Jimin blows a total of three times, and when he's done he lifts Jeongguk's face to his, a serious expression directed his way.

“Better?”

“Much,” Jeongguk assures, sounding embarrassingly winded. 

They stare at each other in silence, something almost…determined in Jimin's gaze, as if he—

“Did you two get lost down there?” Namjoon wonders, and Jeongguk fights back a frustrated groan when Jimin quickly releases him and backs up and out from the table. Slowly, he follows. 

“He hit his head,” Jimin explains.

“Lost my pencil,” Jeongguk mutters at exactly the same time.

They retake their seats, Jeongguk's grip tighter as he writes, Jimin's eyes fixed to his book.

❄⛸🏒❄

Not even an hour later and they're all tipsy, the wine bottle empty if every last drop. Yoongi made sure.

They're all useless as is. The unanimous decision being made to pass the time some other way until the alcohol starts to wear off.

“I've got some whiskey around here somewhere,” Yoongi reveals, making Jin snort. 

“We said we wanted to clear our heads, not blackout.”

“We could watch a movie,” Hoseok offers, eyes drooping. “Might be long enough to clear our systems so we can go back to studying. “

“S'not a bad idea,” Namjoon slurs, wiping at his cheeks with a frown. 

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Taehyung asks the table as a whole, playing with his empty glass.

“Nothing scary,” Jimin pouts at his biology book, currently trapping Jeongguk's foot between two of his own. 

“I second that,” Hoseok murmurs, raising an arm, and Yoongi gives that familiar mischievous smirk. 

“Now we have to watch something scary.”

“Don't you dare!” Hoseok orders, one finger held up pointedly.

“Scary movies are just cringey, with gore.” Namjoon informs, still messing with his cheeks. 

Jimin makes a face at his book, sticking his pink tongue out and making Jeongguk giggle.

“Cute,” he smiles, delighting in the way Jimin's cheeks turn pink.

“We've got some Disney movies, I think.”

“Disney movies are sad.”

“What!” Yoongi says, offended, pinning Jin down with a heated look.

“They are . Most of the characters have, like…sad backstories, and stuff.”

“That's true,” Jimin sighs, and Jeongguk can't stop staring at him, chin cupped in his palm. 

“Let's just put on Netflix and see what we find, then.”

They move to the living room, tripping over each other as they rush to claim the limited couch space. Jeongguk is the fastest, and as such snags the only armchair. 

Taehyung, Jin, and Namjoon have claimed the couch, while Hoseok and Yoongi take the ridiculously big bean bag. That leaves Jimin to stand alone, searching the living room for an available seat.

“Looks like it's the floor for you,” Hoseok snickers, and Jeongguk misses the teasing grin Taehyung wears. 

“Or maybe Jeongguk won't mind sharing with you.”

Jeongguk doesn't mind, especially when Jimin turns to him with big eyes, he just doesn't know what he's supposed to share, exactly. There's not a lot of room, after all.

“Sure,” he says anyway, trying to scoot over as far as he's able and only freeing up a sliver of space. 

“You're the sweetest,” Jimin compliments, and Jeongguk watches with wide eyes and an open mouth as Jimin climbs up and on, settling over Jeongguk's lap like this is something they've done before.

Like Jeongguk should be used to this. A lap-full of Park Jimin.

He can't breathe, and Jeongguk knows he's too tense, body frozen stiff and Jimin senses it immediately, a frown overtaking his face.

“You okay,” he asks quietly, the others calling out which movie or series looks the most interesting.

“M'fine,” Jeongguk chokes out, not quite able to meet Jimin's eyes.

“You sure? I'm not too heavy, am I?”

“You're as light as a feather,” he whispers, unsure where to put his arms. 

“Here,” Jimin says, seemingly taking pity on him. He grasps Jeongguk's wrists in small fingers, guiding them to encircle his waist. “That's much more comfortable, right?”

Jeongguk gulps.

“Mmhmm.”

Jimin leans back against him, finding a more comfortable position before he settles into Jeongguk's chest. 

The others have already decided on something, the opening credits playing along with an intense instrumental track.

"Sounds scary," Jimin huffs, curling deeper against Jeongguk.

"Nah, I'm sure it's fine."

❄⛸🏒❄

It is decidedly not fine. 

The guys picked a zombie movie, Hoseok passing out immediately after hiding his face in Yoongi's sleeve for too long.

Jimin does the same, burying himself in the crook of Jeongguk's neck as he whimpers. His only problem is he keeps looking back at the screen at the wrong time, distressed whines leaving him as he witnesses another character's death.

"This isn't even scary. It's just gross," he complains.

"That's really graphic," Jeongguk agrees as someone else becomes zombie food, brow furrowing when Jimin tickles his skin with each exhale, shivering when he swears he feels his lips brush over his throat.

"Tell me when it's over, 'kay?"

"It's still going."

" Still ?"

"There's a lot of him to eat, apparently."

"Fuck, I'm gonna have nightmares."

Jeongguk's arms tighten around him, not even doubting himself as he urges Jimin to straddle him so his back is to the flatscreen, fingers tracing soothingly along his spine.

"It's almost over...I think."

Jeongguk grimaces when severed limbs are passed around. 

"Maybe give it another couple of minutes."

Jeongguk glances around the room, noting that everyone is asleep, crashed in various reclined positions around the room.

"They're all out. Wanna turn it off?" he asks, having no investment in the movie. 

" Yes ," he says in relief, hands briefly tightening around Jeongguk's neck before releasing him so he can shut everything down.

"How they can sleep through all those flesh-eating sounds is beyond me," he huffs, making Jeongguk laugh as he covers everyone in blankets. 

It's only after that he realizes he has no idea what to do with Jimin. His apartment is small; there's really only so many places one can sleep.

He toes at the old rug nestled beneath the coffee table, not really sure how to bring this up and not sound suggestive.

"Um, you can sleep in my room, if you want. I mean, I would take the floor and you can have the bed," he rushes to explain, Jimin eyes shining, clearly pleased. 

"Okay," he agrees, following Jeongguk to a door off the hall and waiting for him to show him inside. 

"This is my room," Jeongguk reveals rather awkwardly, waiting against the doorframe as the skater takes it in. 

"This is nice," he compliments, gaze wandering around, and Jeongguk preens.

He always takes care to keep his space tidy.

"And your bed is big enough."

"B-Big enough for what?"

"For the both of us. That way no one has to sleep on the floor."

Jeongguk blinks at him, struggling to swallow.

"Right."

"Do you have some clothes I could borrow?"

"S-Sure," Jeongguk assures, rushing to his dresser and pulling out a pair of faded sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt.

He leads Jimin to the bathroom, pulling out a packaged toothbrush he'd been saving for when his current one needed to be replaced and offers it to Jimin. 

"Toothpaste is there," he says, pointing at the side of the sink. "I'll get changed after you."

He leaves him to it, using the time to gather his own set of clothes, trying not to be nervous at the thought of leaving Jimin alone in his room once it's his turn.

He makes his way to the bathroom when Jimin comes back with a shy smile, murmuring, "all yours."

Jeongguk brushes his teeth thoroughly and dresses quickly, trying not to make it obvious that he rushes back. 

Jimin is sitting on his bed, still and obviously tired, and the sight of him there is too much for Jeongguk. He almost would've preferred to walk in on him snooping. 

"Tired?" he asks, even though the answer is clear. 

Jimin gives a slow blink and nods, so Jeongguk places his palm on the switch. 

"Ready for me to shut off the lights?"

"Do you have, um, a small light, or something?"

"Like a nightlight?"

Jimin hums.

"Still scared?"

"Yes," he admits, gazing at him from heavy lids. 

"I'll protect you," Jeongguk promises, more confident in the wake of Jimin's fear, wanting nothing more than to soothe him. 

He turns off the lights, eyes adjusting quickly while he finds his way in the dark. 

"I'm here," he whispers, climbing around Jimin to settle in, pulling the blankets back so that they can chase away the chill. 

Jimin burrows under the covers, waiting until Jeongguk has settled before sliding into his side, wrapping a tentative arm around his waist. 

"You're warm," he murmurs against his skin, making Jeongguk shiver. 

"You're cold, c'mere."

He wraps Jimin up tighter, smiling when the skater makes a contented rumbling sound, rubbing his face against the clothed slope of his chest, fingers tracing shapes near his side.

He falls asleep like that with a dangerous thought in mind.

He could get used to this.

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk comes awake slowly, arms tightening around a pillow. Only when he blinks his eyes open, it's not a pillow. 

Jimin is still asleep on his chest, long lashes caressing his cheeks and plump lips slightly parted, soft breath puffing over Jeongguk's shirt. 

Jeongguk's arms tighten again, an automatic response for wanting the smaller man closer, and Jimin lets out a tiny sigh.

Jeongguk has it so bad for him, he's screwed.

Jimin's brow furrows, and Jeongguk feels caught as his eyes slowly slide open, slightly unfocused. They rove, a small smile transforming his lips when his gaze meets Jeongguk.

"G'morning," he slurs, giving a small stretch, voice raspy from disuse.

"Good morning," Jeongguk  responds, his own voice hoarse. 

Jimin smacks his lips, pulling the blankets higher up. 

"Do you know what time it is?"

Jeongguk glances over at his outdated clock on his nightstand, the glowing blue numbers dim in the sunlight. 

"Just a little past nine."

Jimin hums, small hand coming up to tangle in Jeongguk's shirt. 

"I'm so comfortable. Don't wanna get up," he admits, and Jeongguk is sure his heart skips a beat as Jimin wraps his own arms around his waist. 

"We can stay," he hesitantly offers, holding his breath as he waits for Jimin's response. 

"Stay," Jimin repeats, and that seems to be his only answer on the matter before his breathing evens out, lids remaining closed. 

Jeongguk gazes at him a moment longer before allowing his own eyes to shut.

❄⛸🏒❄

His clock reads five till half past eleven when he opens his eyes next, starting when he looks down and sees Jimin already awake. 

"Hi," he greets in nervousness, Jimin's face dangerously close to his own, eyes sweeping over him, and Jeongguk wonders what he sees. What he's looking for.

"Hi," he answers after a moment, those pretty eyes seeming to linger on Jeongguk's lips. 

Jimin's hand inches up, fingers unfurling, reaching—

There's a knock on the door.

"Jeongguk-ah?" Yoongi calls in a slow drawl. "Is Jimin in there? He's Hoseok's ride."

Jimin hums a displeased noise before shifting.

"I'm in here. Be out in a minute."

The sound of retreating footsteps can be heard as Yoongi steps away from the door and Jimin sighs, giving Jeongguk one last lingering look before he slips out of bed and away.

"Let me just change into my clothes so I can give these back to you," he offers, hand smoothing down the shirt Jeongguk lent him.

"It's okay, hyung. You can just return them later."

"Are you sure?"

He nods, getting up, adamant about walking Jimin to the door, but he won't hear it.

"Get back in bed. Relax. It's your day off, isn't it?"

"It's okay, I—"

Jimin hugs him, arms once more wrapping around his waist and stealing the words from his mouth and the breath from his lungs. 

They don't really hug. Not before, anyways.

"Thank you for this, Jeongguk-ah. I had a lot of fun with you."

"M-Me too, hyung."

Jimin flashes him one of his crinkly-eyed smiles, and Jeongguk watches him go with a smile of his own. 

❄⛸🏒❄

The day of the biology test, both Jimin and Hoseok move to sit beside Jeongguk, much to the annoyance of those that have been sitting in the same spot for the majority of the year, and are now forced to find somewhere unfamiliar to sit. 

He feels his face heat at the unlikely turn of events, not used to sitting next to anyone he knows, and as a result, he sits up straighter in his chair and organizes the clutter of his notebooks. Jeongguk gives Jimin a nervous smile when he looks up to see him staring, something sweet in his expression. 

“Good luck,” he encourages, the professor passing back the tests face down. 

“You too, hyung.”

Somehow, all three of them pass. 

❄⛸🏒❄

When they come back to the ice, Jeongguk is surprised when Jimin greets him holding a hockey stick in one hand and a puck in the other. 

"Until now we’ve focused on your form and your skating, but you’re going to have a lot more to keep track of when you play,” he says, motioning towards the equipment. “Now you have to put it all together.”

Jeongguk fumbles in the beginning, a bit overwhelmed, but he’s impressed with himself when he picks it up relatively quickly, Jimin praising him from the walls. 

There isn’t really much left to improve upon tonight, so the two of them mess around, Jeongguk showing him how to do slap shots and Jimin attempting to teach him something he calls a cantilever , a harrowing move that involves bending your knees at a ninety degree angle while leaning back until your upper body is parallel to the ice. 

After several failed attempts, Jeongguk takes a break behind the walls, Jimin messing with the soundsystem he’s been given access to, playing music so he can perform his upcoming program.

Jeongguk watches Jimin skate, captivated. That’s really the only word for it. 

Jimin calls it ‘Black Swan.’

It has plenty of jaw-dropping moves, spins and jumps that Jeongguk doesn’t know the names to, technically and visually pleasing, but Jeongguk is starting to understand what Jimin means when he worries that something is missing. It’s clear he feels it even now, as he finishes performing to an audience of one. 

He looks tired, and weary. There’s disappointment in his face, as well. 

“It’s a demanding routine,” Jeongguk starts off hesitantly, watching the way Jimin’s tense shoulders shrug.

“I’m used to it.”

“Have you…” he trails off, not sure if any of his suggestions would be welcome, but the skater latches on to it.

“Have I what?” Jimin asks, and Jeongguk responds to the hopefulness in his eyes. 

“Have you thought about—I mean, maybe you could incorporate more...dance.”

“Dance,” Jimin questions flatly. 

“Yeah. I’ve been looking on Youtube, and there’s plenty of programs that include dance.”

“Those are usually long programs, Jeongguk-ah. I’m performing a short program. It has to be more technical.”

“You don’t have to change anything, really. I just thought, the song you’re skating to is sad. Kind of, haunting. I’m sure you could express it more with your body and...movements,” he finishes lamely, but Jimin grins at him. 

“Dance,” he repeats in answer, and Jeongguk nods in agreement. 

He doesn’t say anything further on the matter, but there’s a gleam in Jimin's eye that looks almost like excitement. 

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk watches his team with something akin to pride. They’re doing drills, weaving in and out of the cones he set up earlier, guiding their pucks before taking shots. No complaints so far, but that’ll likely change when he leads them to the gym later on. 

There’s movement beside him, and his mouth falls open when he takes in coach Sejin, hands clasped behind his back, watching the others as they practice. 

“You’ve done well,” he praises, clearly impressed. “I’ve watched last year’s game more times than I can count, and already I can tell they’re better than they were.”

“You can?”

Sejin looks at him for a moment, the corner of his lips ticking up in a small smile. 

“I can,” he affirms, continuing to watch. “We’ve always been a small division in the university. I never used to think we would amount to much, but with you on the team, we’ve come a long way.”

Jeongguk immediately shakes his head, attempting to refute that claim, but Sejin won’t let him. 

“You’ve taken the initiative, and led them to this point. Win or lose, I think you can rest without regrets. You’ve done everything you can, and they’re better for it,” he finishes, motioning to the others.

Jeongguk looks back out at the rink, watching the way the team moves as one, quiet when Sejin pats him on the back and walks away.

❄⛸🏒❄

"Where's Jin," Jeongguk wonders, both Yoongi and Namjoon staring out across the ice, a rarity in Namjoon's case, the book he's currently reading open and ignored on his lap.

The defenseman inclines his head, and Jeongguk follows their gaze, mouth falling open when he sees him at the walls, talking closely with none other than Kim Taehyung.

He fumbles with his phone, attempting to pull it free from his pocket when it vibrates against his leg, still finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from the two.

It becomes easier when he glances down at the screen, seeing that it's a text from Jimin.

Is he the friend you mentioned?

He is, Jeongguk texts back, a smile taking over his lips the way it always does when the skater is involved. 

He looks up, locating Jimin on the ice standing next to Hoseok, cheeks pink from the cold as he types on his phone.

Tae's been stressing over his routine for days, saying he needs to practice EVERY second. Now look at him.

Jeongguk laughs softly, the other two ignoring him in favor of seeing how Jin fares. 

I'm surprised Jin worked up the courage to talk to him alone. He talks big, but he's really shy.

All of our friends are getting together.

Jeongguk doesn't know how to read the tone of the text, so he sends back a laughing crying emoji, Jimin responding immediately.

Next it'll be us.

Jeongguk stares at his phone screen for a full minute, eyes wide. 

There are different ways that could be interpreted, and the last thing he wants to do is get his hopes up, but when he looks back at the rink, Jimin is staring right at him, phone put alway, eyes lingering before he skates off.

❄⛸🏒❄

The game is a little over a week away, and likewise, Jimin will be competing soon. The pair of them are a mess, the same kind of anxiety and nerves affecting their moods, neither one of them quite knowing what to do.

Jeongguk is sore from another night of what he refers to as ‘Jimin’s reps,’ at the gym, the figure skater practically pacing the whole time. Jeongguk can sympathize. His energy should be depleted after the workout he’s had, but even he still feels keyed up, unsure what to do next.

“Do you wanna do something?” Jimin asks in a rush of words, Jeongguk stopping short with wide eyes. 

“ Yes ,” he breathes in relieved gratitude, jogging in place to try and calm down. “What do you want to do?”

Frustration clouds Jimin’s features, lips pinched in a frown. 

“Don’t care, really. Just don’t want to go home yet.”

“We could go to my place,” Jeongguk offers easily, and Jimin latches on to it with wide eyes. 

“Yes. Let’s do that. We could watch a movie again, or something.”

They shower in the locker room, opting for the tiny individual stalls rather than the open ones. Jeongguk is sure he'd wind up in the hospital if he had to shower next to Jimin.

When they're dressed again and meet up at the lockers, Jeongguk does a double take when he notices Jimin is wearing his clothes, the same set he borrowed the last time he was at his apartment, and to top it off, he's also wearing Jeongguk's jacket, appearing to swim in it.

His mouth feels parched. 

"I'll give them back," Jimin reassures, mistaking Jeongguk's stare for something else. 

Jeongguk texts Yoongi on their way out, letting him know that he’s bringing Jimin home with him and to get off the TV.

I’m going out with Hoseok, brat. Have fun.

You too, he texts back, happy that things seem to be working out for the other. 

Jimin follows behind him in his car as they both make the short drive over to Jeongguk’s apartment.

“No Yoongi?” Jimin asks, and Jeongguk is sure he’s imagining the hopeful lilt to his tone.

“He actually just left to hang out with Hoseok, so…” he shrugs, noting the way Jimin’s teeth sink into his bottom lips as he seems to lose himself in thought. 

“They like each other.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees, moving towards the beat up bookshelf in the corner, a thrift buy that now houses their game cases and DVDs. He skims the titles of their movie collection, wondering what would be a good choice. 

“I’m happy for them,” Jimin voices behind him, and Jeongguk doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help it, and of course the figure skater hears. “What was that for?”

“You just don't sound very happy. Sound kind of upset,” he answers honestly, looking over his shoulder in time to see Jimin shrug and blow the powder blue hair out of his eyes. 

“It just seems like it was easy for them, is all. Couple of study sessions and bam, they’re all set.”

Jeongguk can’t help it. His eyes travel over Jimin’s form, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, gaze lingering while he takes in a deep breath. 

“You don’t really seem like the type who would have any trouble pulling someone.”

Jimin’s eyes focus on him, and there’s something in his expression that Jeongguk has seen before, but only in brief intervals before the intensity of that look is hidden away. 

“I could say the same for you,” he shoots back, the tone of his voice low and almost sultry, making Jeongguk’s toes curl in his socks. “What’s your excuse?”

It sounds challenging. Petulant, almost, waiting to measure the validity of his answer. 

He’s got a stack of movies gripped tight in his hands when he shrugs, unable to meet the figure skater’s eyes. 

“I like someone,” he admits out loud, trying to calm his rapidly racing heart, ears ringing. “Pretty sure they’re not interested though.

“How do you know?”

“He’s more focused on other things,” he explains, voice squeaky as he shuffles the DVDs under one arm, using his free hand to pull at the collar of his shirt. “Doesn’t really date.”

Jimin slowly moves forward, movements graceful and fluid, as if he’s on the ice. He reaches out, eyes downcast as he grabs the movies from Jeongguk’s hold, finally glancing up at him from beneath long lashes. 

“Maybe he’s just waiting for you to ask.”

The apartment is silent as they stare at each other, the ringing so loud in Jeongguk’s ears that he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyways. 

He laughs to break the tension, shaking his head while he takes the cases back and makes his way towards the flatscreen where they keep an old hand-me-down DVD player hooked up. 

“Doubt it,” he calls, making sure that everything is connected properly. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Jimin is quiet as he turns everything on, but he hears him moving, light on his feet even over the creaky floorboards. 

“What do you think? Superhero movie? Definitely not horror."

"Or anything zombie related. I can still hear the chewing sounds," Jimin mutters to himself, and when Jeongguk looks over his shoulder, it's in time to witness the smaller man shiver. 

"Right. So, superhero, action, comedy or romance?”

“Which superhero?”

“Iron Man,” Jeongguk answers, his tone implying that it should be a given.

“I like the Hulk.”

“Don't have that one.”

“Iron Man it is,” Jimin agrees, a smile in his voice. "Do you have any spare blankets?" he asks hopefully, hands gripping his arms beneath the little paws of the jacket, the sleeves covering even the tips of his fingers. 

"Of course. I'll get us one."

He rushes towards the hall closet, going straight for the fluffiest, softest blanket he owns, the apartment on the colder side since they don't really use the heat, a luxury they can't really afford. 

Yoongi and him are already accustomed to it, but even he can admit the air is chilly.

Jeongguk closes the door, arms stretched wide over the sheer size of the thing, a mint color that he couldn't help but find charming, sold on it as soon as his hand came into contact with the material.

He spreads it over the couch and grabs a few pillows for good measure before returning to the DVD player. 

Jeongguk gets the movie set up, hearing Jimin settle on the couch with a sigh behind him. Jeongguk points the remote at the player, backing up onto the couch as the opening credits start. He’s not looking when he sits down, letting out a surprised hum when he realizes how close he is to the figure skater. He goes to scoot over just as Jimin leans further in, tucking himself against Jeongguk’s side and resting his head on his upper arm.

The lights are dim in the living room, only the one in the kitchen is still on, and Jeongguk’s eyes are wide as he actively works to keep himself from tensing up, not wanting to let on how nervous he is. Jimin shifts, trying to get comfortable, his cheek practically rubbing against Jeongguk’s chest, and he lifts his arm in an effort to help, the smaller man slotting deeper against him. 

There’s nowhere to put his arm back down except around Jimin’s shoulders, so that’s where it goes, hesitant, at first, not wanting the weight of it to be a burden, but he relaxes soon enough, afraid he'll make Jimin uncomfortable otherwise. 

It's extremely hard not to be hyper aware of him, though, his focus on the movie completely non-existent.

Jimin's hand comes up, curling against his own cheek and resting on Jeongguk's chest, small fingers of the other gripping into the material of his shirt. He almost wants to panic, but a heavy exhaustion weighs his body down, crashing from the intensity and strain from both a physical standpoint as well as an emotional one, university on top of everything else taking its toll. 

The movie is halfway over, Jeongguk's lids sliding lower with the way Jimin absently traces circles over his chest, likely not even aware he's doing it. 

Or maybe he is. It's a harrowing thought.

He's pretty sure he falls asleep, a different scene playing over the screen when his eyes open next, awakened by Jimin's voice.

"Hmm?" he hums, trying not to let on that he's drifting in and out.

"I said why didn't you tell me you like me?"

"Oh," Jeongguk murmurs, eyes closing again. "Too nervous."

It gets noticeably quiet, and it's only then that his mind catches up. Jeongguk's eyes fly open, startled when they meet Jimin's, their faces close together.

"You—"

Jimin rises slowly, leaning up on his knees until he leisurely; gracefully, extends his leg over Jeongguk's lap in order to straddle him, eyes never once leaving his own. 

Jeongguk can't breathe, suddenly wide awake. His heart is pounding, limbs trembling, and his stomach feels fluttery. 

"Is this a dream?"

Jimin shakes his head, pupils dilated, shining with a light Jeongguk has never seen before. 

"I've waited a long time for you, you know."

"You...you have?"

His voice sounds off. Strangled. 

"I have," Jimin affirms, small hands coming up to sink his fingers into the strands of Jeongguk's hair. "Does this answer the question of whether I feel the same or not?"

Jeongguk hums again, as if considering.

"I'm still a bit confused, to be honest."

"Are you?" Jimin wonders, absently pulling on his long locks, a moan leaving Jeongguk's lips as his eyes flutter. "Need me to spell it out for you?"

"I think that would be best, just so there's no room for misunderstandings."

Jimin's gaze turns piercing, and Jeongguk's breath stutters out of him as the figure skater leans further down, so close their lips are almost touching. 

"I feel the same way you do, Jeongguk-ah."

"You do?"

Jimin answers with his lips, mouth sliding over Jeongguk's gently, tentatively. They're learning each other, mapping out the way they fit, and Jeongguk feels as if he's either going to cry or start hyperventilating.

He's kissing Jimin. 

Jimin.

Something he's thought of doing a lot. Something he's both dreamed and daydreamed about. 

His hands come up, a tremor running through them as he cups the smaller man's cheeks in a soft hold, thumbs stroking near the corner of Jimin's eyes just as a tongue traces his full bottom lip.

Jeongguk gasps, mouth opening to present Jimin with the perfect invitation, and one he eagerly takes advantage of. 

He tastes good, the hint of something sweet lingering with each pass Jeongguk takes, greedy for more. They fit together almost too well, the ease of which is something Jeongguk’s never experienced before, his past partners always needing direction, or instruction on how Jeongguk likes to kiss and  be kissed, how he tilts his face just so, and the way he loves to slant his lips over anothers repeatedly. 

Jimin just...gets it. He finds the nuances in Jeongguk’s movements and matches them, as if he’s been kissing him for ages, a certified veteran. 

A small hand derails his thoughts, warm and soft, and currently inching its way up his shirt and over the bare plains of his stomach, stilling immediately when Jeongguk sucks in a panicked breath. 

“What’s wrong,” Jimin husks against his lips, concern laced in his voice. 

“Nothing, I just...I really like you,” he answers in a rush, Jimin’s blinding smile taking his breath away for different reasons. It's that rare one. The one that makes his eyes crinkle and turn into upside down crescent moons. 

“I like you too, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jimin tries to close the distance between them again, and Jeongguk backs away before his mind can become cloudy, desire winning out.

“What I mean is...I don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know?”

Jimin leans back further, brow quirked, expression serious. 

“Who said this is going to be a one time thing?”

“No one. That’s why we should talk, maybe? Figure out where this is going.”

The figure skater nods, features softening as he tugs lightly at the ends of Jeongguk’s hair once more. 

“I like you,” he says simply, though his eyes are intense. “I think we’re good together, so that’s what I want.”

“I want to date you,” Jeongguk blurts out, feeling his ears heat up when Jimin looks down at him, clearly endeared.

“I don’t date,” he shrugs, and Jeongguk’s world teeters slightly on its side, his heart ready to plummet until Jimin speaks again. “You’ll have to tell me how to go about it.”

He’s never felt such relief, emotions strapped down to a rollercoaster ride that is set on ruining him. 

“Most people go out and do things together,” Jeongguk mumbles in a stilted explanation. Suddenly not sure how to go about dating, either. “Me, I don’t really care where we are, or what we do. I wanna hold your hand,” he reveals, holding out his own, palm facing Jimin, who presses his against Jeongguk’s, their fingers intertwining. “I want to hear about your day, and rub your back when you’re stressed.”

“Keep going,” Jimin exhales, pupils wide.

“Wanna watch movies with you, and laugh at the bad dialogue while we make up our own. I want to make you dinner, and take you to my favorite places. Introduce you to my friends as my boyfriend and meet all of yours. I wanna wrap my arms around you, and kiss your neck right here,” he whispers, running a finger over the curve above his shoulder, pleased when Jimin shivers. "I want you in my bed, pliant and warm. Wanna fall asleep and wake up to you.”

They stare at each other, Jimin’s eyes round and bright. He appears almost overwhelmed, and Jeongguk wracks his mind, searching for the right thing to say, afraid he might have gone too far. He's done it before. Knows how intense he can be when he wants something, and it's put people off…

But then Jimin’s fingers grip his hair, pulling enough to force him to bare his throat.

“Let’s do all of that,” he whispers with an intensity that matches his own, peppering kisses along Jeongguk’s jaw, traveling to the sensitive lobe of his ear. “We can start now,” he proposes, pulling a deep laugh from Jeongguk’s belly. 

"We don't have to do it all at once. We can go slow," he offers, a thrill running through him at the pout that has Jimin's bottom lip protruding.

"Slow? We can go slow. If you want."

"Don't sound so excited," Jeongguk snorts, unable to hide his amusement, much to Jimin's annoyance.

"You know how impatient I get. But relationships are about compromise, are they not?"

"And you said you didn't know anything about them," he coos, gently pressing on Jimin's cute little button nose.

He kisses the pout off of his lips, the smaller man sighing into his mouth, malleable against him, fitting perfectly in the cradle of Jeongguk's lap. Jeongguk traces the seam of his lips with the tip of his tongue, hands coming up to grip his hips, pulling him closer still, though there's hardly any room to do so. Slowly, his palms slide around, traveling over the arch of his spine and going lower still.

Jimin's breath hitches, leaning away and breaking off the kiss with scandalized features, a pretty flush coloring his cheeks.

"You said you wanted to take it slow."

"I never said that's what I wanted," Jeongguk denies calmly, a small smile painting his lips. "I asked if that's what you wanted, which clearly—"

"Fuck no it's not."

Jeongguk laughs, unable to stop himself from kissing Jimin again.

"Are you sure?"

"Ask me one more time, see what—hey!" he cries, clutching onto Jeongguk nervously as he stands, Jimin cradled in his arms.

Jeongguk carries him to his room, careful as he pushes the door open and maneuvers Jimin inside. 

He deposits him gently on the bed, next to a plastic bag he didn't notice before. There's a pink sticky note on it, marked with Yoongi's familiar, neat scrawl. 

Stay safe, kids , it reads, a winky face on the bottom. 

There's condoms and lube inside, and Jeongguk heaves a sigh when Jimin sees.

"Planned this, did you?" 

He wears a smirk with one perfectly cocked brow, but Jeongguk doesn't want him to have that impression. 

"Yoongi knows how much I like you, but how terrified I was to say anything. This is his way of making me suffer after hearing you were coming over."

"Maybe he was just optimistic we'd get our shit together."

Jeongguk smiles softly down at him, Jimin's gaze seeming to wander over his still-standing form, appreciative and admiring.

"See something you like?" he asks with more confidence than he feels. 

"I think so. You should take off your shirt, though, so I can be sure."

"Take off my shirt?" Jeongguk questions, fingers grasping the hem. 

"Slowly," Jimin cuts in, using the same tone he uses when he's instructing Jeongguk out on the ice. 

Jeongguk immediately stills, movements resuming at an unhurried pace as he inches his shirt up over his abdomen, and higher still.

"Like this?"

Jimin is flushed, but his expression is sharp when he nods.

"Just like that."

He draws it out, teasing the material just shy of his nipples, Jimin letting go of a groan in frustration before he gives another order.

"Show me."

Jeongguk pulls the shirt up and over his head, the material clinging to the tips of his fingers before he lets it slip away to the floor. 

Jimin stares, eyes roving over every bit of revealed skin, hands reaching up as if to touch, though he doesn't. 

"These next," he orders, motioning to Jeongguk's low-fitting sweatpants.

He grips the waistband, tangling his fingers in it. All it takes is one good shove and the sweats pool around his ankles, shivering from the frigid air as he's left in nothing but his boxers. 

Jimin tuts when he sees, inviting Jeongguk to him.

"Come here. I can keep you warm."

Jeongguk moves towards him, only for the skater to stop him with a click of his tongue. 

"Take these off first, sweetheart."

Jeongguk looks down when he traces one of the legs of his boxers, looking up at him with an innocence that belies his request. 

It's unnervingly quiet as he slowly removes the thin fabric. Over his hips, down his thighs and further still, relishing in the stuttered breath Jimin gives.

He takes in Jeongguk's body like one would fine art, head tilting this way and that, eyes ravenous. He's already hard, quick to respond to the slightest thing where Jimin is concerned, and Jimin's gaze fixes there and remains for quite some time.

A hunger in his gaze that sets Jeongguk's blood to burn.

"I'll keep you warm," he repeats, and it's Jeongguk's turn to take in a shuddering breath, Jimin's hands reaching for him and making contact with his sensitive skin, goosebumps following in his wake.

He's pulled forward, and Jeongguk is sure Jimin wants him to crawl into his lip, but then the skater dips his head down, plump lips opening, and—

Fuck.

Jimin's lips are as soft as they look, the wet heat of his mouth positively devastating as his tongue traces the ridges of his shaft, as if memorizing the topography of it by feel alone.

His head falls back, the room spinning in a way that makes his eyes shut tight, afraid he’ll fall even as he moans for more. Jeongguk reaches his hands out, searching for stability in the swirling colors behind his lids and finds it in soft strands, Jimin’s hair sliding through his fingers, blue against his white-knuckled grip.

He tugs; a response to Jimin hollowing out his cheeks, sinking down lower still as he sucks, tongue curling over the heated skin along the underside of his cock. 

“Jimin,” he hisses, still unable to look, the visual likely being his downfall. “Jimin,” he growls this time, but the little minx only increases his speed. 

Jeongguk’s hands slide down, following the curve of Jimin's ear, fingers mapping round cheeks where he cups and slowly pushes, easing him away. Finally blinking his lids open, his eyes meet Jimin’s still-innocent expression. 

He’s gonna be the end of him, Jeongguk is sure of it. 

Before he can explain how sensitive he is, how he wants this to last, Jimin throws his mind into pandemonium, tracing his shimmering lips with his tongue, collecting what looks to be Jeongguk’s precome along the tip. 

“You taste so good,” he hums, lashes brushing his skin as he savors it, and Jeongguk lets out a long, drawn out groan. 

He’s definitely gonna be the end of him. 

Jimin mewls when Jeongguk closes in, swallowing down his noises as he chases the taste of himself, like a starving man on the trail of food. They fall onto the bed, the plastic bag holding the box of condoms and lube crinkling loudly in protest, but ignored. He feels possessed, limbs everywhere they can reach, desperate to touch as much of Jimin as he can, to learn him as the way a seasoned lover would. He wants to know what makes Park Jimin tick. What he likes, what he doesn’t. The sensitive areas that’ll have him moaning for more, and the ones that act like reflexes, little knee-jerk reactions he can’t control, surprise overtaking his expression when Jeongguk discovers them.

Jeongguk wants him to unravel in the most shattering of ways, floating in a place where all he knows is ecstasy.

The sounds he makes are too addicting not to.

Jeongguk’s got the lobe of his ear between his teeth, hands yanking up Jimin’s shirt impatiently until it rests just above his nipples, fingers immediately going to flick at the nubs when Jimin keens, as if in pain. 

“Sensitive?” Jeongguk wonders absently, Jimin gazing up at him with wide eyes, the iris nearly overtaken by his blown pupils. 

“A b-bit,” he stutters, and Jeongguk gives a maniacal grin. 

The sound Jimin makes when his mouth closes over one rings in his ears, echoing as if they’re in a chasm, and Jeongguk could give a fuck about the neighbors, the only thing worrying him is how to make Jimin release as many of those cries as he can, until his voice is raw.

His teeth worry at each nipple, tongue swirling after to soothe the bite before he blows over it with a gentle breath, watching those pink nubs harden further before he sucks on one, fingers on the other. Jimin tosses his head back and forth, teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to turn the natural pink into a pale white. 

Jeongguk doesn’t let up until small hands slap at his shoulders, Jimin babbling in his ear as if he’s being tortured. 

“You okay, baby?”

Jimin is shaking his head before he can even complete the question, sweat collecting along his brow, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red.

“Tell me what you want, hmm? I’ll give it to you. Want me to suck you off?”

Jimin whimpers, but doesn’t answer. 

“I can eat you out for hours. Could make us both come from that, you don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about doing it.”

Another cry, but no words. 

“I could fuck your pretty thighs," he suggests, tracing the supple skin. "make you rut into the sheets until you finish. Or I could open you up nice and slow so you’re ready for me. Or I could open myself up for you ,” he offers, and still Jimin groans, eyes squeezed shut tight.

“Words, baby. You gotta use your words.”

“Want all of it,” Jimin admits on a shaky gasp, and Jeongguk beams, stomach warm. 

“Better start now,” he chuckles, and travels down Jimin’s body. 

He’s true to his word. Jeongguk sucks Jimin off with enthusiasm, the smaller man hitting at the tangled sheets with a small fist, fingers biting into the skin of his palm before Jeongguk takes it into his own and smooths it out, lacing their fingers together. 

He gets him right to that edge, only to yank him away from it, much to Jimin’s frustration. 

It’s an art form. 

Jeongguk eases down further still, tongue tracing the sensitive skin of Jimin’s perineum, enjoying the smaller man’s keyed up body, stretched taught, only to snap and bow when he finally circles his quivering rim, muscles tight until Jeongguk coaxes him to relax, whispered murmurs of filth and praise that he speaks into his skin, his opening. 

Jeongguk thrusts his tongue inside, the sound Jimin makes, and the reaction his body has is nearly his undoing. His hands find Jimin’s and they hold onto each other, as if weathering a storm; which, in all honesty, Jeongguk feels like he is, the way the skater thrashes emulating harsh conditions. 

He fucks him deep, refusing to stop unitl his tongue is swollen and numb, Jimin begging for release. He’s wet between his legs, Jeongguk’s saliva making him glisten in the dim lighting and captivating his focus. He gently eases Jimin onto his side, crawling up close beside him, back to chest. 

Jimin doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on as Jeongguk removes the seal from the lube and slicks his length, not until he eases his cock between his legs with whispered instructions.

“Clench your thighs for me, love.”

Jimin does, as much as he's able, body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

His thighs are soft and warm, but not as much as he is inside, his tingling tongue can attest to that, but it's good. It's so fucking good, he could come.

He thrusts and Jimin falls apart, strangled noises escaping his swollen lips, the head of Jeongguk's cock nudging Jimin's balls every other stroke, sliding against the heated length of his own slick shaft. His smaller body presses back against Jeongguk, the perfect swell of his ass rubbing enticingly along his skin. 

"Feel good, baby?"

"Mmmhmm. Want more."

"More what, love?"

Jimin trails his hands down his chest, lower, until he's able to reach between his legs, deft fingers encircling the leaking head of Jeongguk's cock. 

"Want you inside."

Jeongguk's hands tremble as he grips shapely hips, kissing along the column of Jimin's neck.

"You're sure?"

"Please."

Jeongguk eases away from him, coaxing the skater to lay flat on his back, retrieving the plastic bag Yoongi left them, reminding himself to thank him later. 

Reverently, he caresses Jimin's legs, skin soft, muscles pronounced and tight. He traces around the backs of Jimin's knees, gaze flying to Jimin's face when he sucks in a sharp breath. Pushing his legs up, Jimin becomes exposed, the flush on his cheeks deepening as his knees are made flush with his shoulders. 

"Keep them there for me, love."

His eyes go wide with his task, but he nods, a kind of determination in his expression. 

Taking the opened lube, Jeongguk coats his fingers generously. Jimin's eyes never leaving him, chest heaving with panting breaths while Jeongguk works the viscous liquid until it warms.

Slowly, so that Jimin sees what he's doing, he lowers his fingers to flesh, holding Jimin steady after his body jolts from the first touch to his fluttering hole.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you."

Jimin whines, fingers twisting in the sheets, as he shakes his head.

"You're perfect, aren't you?"

"Me?" Jeongguk wonders, pressing the pads of his fingers against Jimin's entrance, adding pressure, but not enough to slide in. 

"You, with your perfect body, that face, golden personality and now the pet names."

"Don't like them?"

"I fucking love them."

They both giggle, Jeongguk leaning forward, unable to fight the urge to lick into Jimin's mouth, already addicted to the taste of him.

" You're perfect," he counters. "Fuck, just look at you."

Jimin's back arches when he starts to breach him, fingers spasm in his hold of the sheets, and Jeongguk momentarily worries if they'll tear, the fabric cheap.

But then it doesn't matter, because fuck the sheets when he's got Park Jimin in his bed.

"Relax," he soothes, his free hand massaging circles over Jimin's quivering abdomen. 

Jimin's body sort of slumps, falling heavily against the mattress as he listens, trying to keep from tensing as Jeongguk's fingers continue their progression, searching. 

"Ahh!"

There it is.

Jeongguk eases off, a second finger joining the first. He scissors them open, stretching Jimin's walls carefully, watching Jimin's face for any hint of discomfort.

Small fingers circle his wrist and Jeongguk stills, worried he's hurt him. 

"Please," he begs, anxiety filling him as he tries to pull out, but Jimin holds firm. "I won't break. Please," he repeats, and Jeongguk gets it, soothing Jimin with a pointed nod.

Using a deliberate, measured pace, he pushes in a third finger, Jimin bearing down on him and swiveling his hips, wanting Jeongguk deeper, on that spot —

Jimin's body locks up when he brushes it again, Jeongguk's cock leaking at the sight of him falling apart. He teases him more, promising himself he just wants to make Jimin moan one more time, to see him arch up again and cry. 

He makes this promise repeatedly until Jimin flashes him a look with fire in his eyes, expression firm. 

"If you aren't inside of me in the next thirty seconds—"

His eyes flutter shut when Jeongguk presses against his prostate again, words trailing off into a trembling whine.

"Jeongguk," he growls, and he finally relents, pulling his fingers free and wiping them on the duvet. 

He rips the box of condoms open, tearing the wrapper with his teeth before rolling it down his shaft, sensitive enough that he hisses with his own touch. He may have been edging Jimin all this time, but he's been edging himself as well.

Jeongguk slicks himself up, watching the way Jimin licks his lips wantonly at the action and spreads his legs further in offering.

"Kiss me," he demands, and Jeongguk is more than happy to oblige, blanketing Jimin's body with his own, their lips opening for each other, Jimin's tongue slipping past his teeth.

"Breathe," Jeongguk whispers into his mouth, the head of his cock pressing against his opening, the ring of muscles giving way just as Jimin gasps.

Jeongguk's eyes attempt to roll back.

Fuck, he's tight.

Jimin tries to wriggle again, but Jeongguk wraps his arms around his chest, keeping him still, much to the skater's frustration.

"Jeongguk," he starts, tone reprimanding, until Jeongguk shakes his head imploringly, sweat beading at the ends of his hair. 

"I need a minute," he admits honestly, Jimin's features immediately gentling.

Hands come up to sweep the dark, drenched strands out of his eyes, fingers tracing the tightly closed lids, the gesture so sweet it catches him off guard. 

They breathe in the quiet of the room, deep stuttering breaths until Jeongguk gives an unstable nod, lips latching back onto Jimin's. 

He starts slow, minute movements of his hips that pull satisfied sighs from Jimin, his legs coming up to wrap around Jeongguk's waist, fingers burying themselves in his hair to pull in turns, tiny bursts of pain grounding him and setting him adrift all at once. 

Jimin is…

Jimin is everything, really. 

Jeongguk moves and Jimin reacts, responding in kind. His hips thrust and Jimin's back bows, arching beautifully, legs tightening around him.

"You're gorgeous, '' he whispers, dipping down to lick over Jimin's gleaming clavicle, feeling him tremble in his hold. 

"Jeongguk," Jimin whimpers, sounding lost and overwhelmed, fingers tensing in his hair.

"M'right here," he assures, raising his head so their eyes can meet. 

They don't look away, even as Jeongguk's hips speed up, the veracity of his movements firm with purpose. 

"Wanna watch you come," he admits in a quiet whisper, as if unsure if he should say such things aloud. "Wanna watch you fall apart, and know that I did that. I made you feel good."

Jimin's inner walls tighten around him like a vice grip, bottom lip quivering, eyes wide as he begs again.

"Please."

His hand moves down his chest, reaching for his red, weeping length, but Jeongguk captures it in his own, holding him still.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll get you there," he promises, soothing him when Jimin cries.

Jeongguk changes the angle, grinning when the smaller man seizes up, and he keeps that position, relentless as he picks up the pace, hitting Jimin's prostate on nearly every thrust. 

Jimin shakes in overstimulation, his body jolting as if fighting him, weak attempts to get away, even as he tightens himself around Jeongguk, desperate to keep him close.

"I—think I'm gonna—"

His voice cuts off, body taught, like he's unfurling, a string on the verge of snapping.

Jeongguk's hips pound against Jimin's ass, the cheeks bouncing in the cradle of his pelvis, the noises obscene.

"Go ahead, love. Come."

Jimin moans, a long, drawn out thing, and Jeongguk watches raptly as pearly strings of white decorate his chest and belly, his hard cock flushed a pretty pink to match his cheeks.

Jeongguk chokes when Jimin tightens even further around him, heat curling along the base of his spine and spreading. He chases his own orgasm, catching it quickly in the aftermath of Jimin's, the two collapsing into each other, Jeongguk mindful enough not to burden him with his size and weight. 

They breathe deep, heaving breaths, Jeongguk's fingers tracing swirling patterns over the skater's skin when it seems like he can't calm down. It takes time, but slowly, the beat of their hearts reverts back to a manageable pace. Jimin blinks open bright, pretty eyes, Jeongguk's own staring into them, trying to pin down the color. 

"Wow," he sighs, Jimin's lips wobbling.

The two of them break out into uncontrollable giggles, foreheads bumping as their bodies vibrate with joy.

Jeongguk brushes the tacky hair off of Jimin's forehead, placing a gentle kiss along his temples, lines smoothing away. 

"Hi," he murmurs like a dummy, beaming when he makes Jimin laugh again.

"Hi yourself," he whispers, their noses bumping. "Don't think I want to move ever again."

"Never?"

"Nuh-uh."

"That's a shame," Jeongguk laments. "There's still one more thing on our list we have to do."

Jimin appears perplexed, but Jeongguk knows the exact moment he remembers. 

"You want to?"

"Of course," Jeongguk answers, slowly and carefully pulling out of Jimin. "I think you'll find I'm very good at," he pauses for dramatic effect, " taking direction."

"You're a nerd."

Jeongguk feigns offense, sinking his teeth into the side of Jimin's neck and delighting in his squeals.

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk wakes to the sun peeking through his curtains, bright and warm over the lids of his eyes. He blinks a few times to help ease the blurriness of his vision, aware of the form that pins his arm down beneath it. 

Jimin is still sleeping, a look of peace overtaking his features that Jeongguk is not still barely acquainted with. He’s seen Jimin happy, frustrated and stressed, and now he’s seen Jimin lost in the peak of pleasure and the utter contentment that comes afterwards, but this.

This still feels new. 

Jeongguk stares at him, losing track of time as he commits what he can to memory, marking the rise and fall of his lean chest, and noting the way his eyes shift beneath his shuttered lids in sleep, unable to help but  wonder what he dreams about. 

He watches him so closely, that he’s able to discern the moment he wakes, even though he gives nothing away that he has, eyes still closed. 

“I know you’re awake,” he whispers, but even that sounds too loud in the quiet. 

“And I know you’re staring.”

“Can’t help it,” Jeongguk smirks, finger coming up to pull at Jimin’s full bottom lip, watching as it bounces back into place when he grants it freedom, smile softening just as Jimin’s eyes flutter open. 

“There you are,” he whispers, delighting in the blush that spreads across the skater’s cheeks. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Jimin responds, voice still a little rough. “How are you feeling?”

“Happy,” he answers honestly, fingers trailing down the slope of Jimin’s chest, tracing the indents of corded muscle. “And you? How do you feel?”

“Sore,” he grins, “but also happy.”

Jeongguk beams at the answer, stretching his body out and humming, toes curling at the feeling. Jimin is staring at him, a heat traveling through his veins at the look he gives. He’s covered in marks. Jeongguk’s marks, and the way they explored each other into the early hours of the morning leaves him breathless with the memory, but Jimin still gives him that look, the one that says he wants more. 

“You’re insatiable,” he growls, rolling over until he’s on top of the other while Jimin feigns a familiar look of innocence. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, I’ve already seen that face you're making enough times to know what it means.”

“Have you now?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Or maybe I’m just hungry—ahh,” Jimin keens, hissing when Jeongguk’s teeth sink into his shoulder. 

“Oh I’ll feed you, don’t worry.”

“You are a bad, dishonest man,” Jimin whines, and Jeongguk can’t help but laugh against his skin. 

“Why?”

“Because, you act all sweet and wholesome but then you take me to bed and you’re completely different.”

Jeongguk chuckles again, licking over the new marks he’s just made, and proud when Jimin trembles in his hold. 

“I’m usually confident in things I excel at.”

"Oooooh cocky,” Jimin intones, though the words hitch at the end as he watches Jeongguk lower himself down the length of his body. 

“How about you tell me when I’m done if I’m being cocky or not.”

Jimin’s nod is shaky, a moan escaping him when Jeongguk gets to work. 

❄⛸🏒❄

It’s nearly noon when they leave Jeongguk’s bedroom, the air cloying and smelling of sex. They’re fully dressed after their second attempt, Jimin wearing Jeongguk’s hockey jersey, and still trying his self-control even after the amount of times they’ve...well…

“Is it like a dominance thing?” he’d asked, legs bare, the bottom of his jersey caressing the tops of his creamy thighs, and by extension all of the bite marks and hickeys Jeongguk had adorned the soft skin with. 

“Hmm?” he had wondered, clearly distracted. 

“The jersey. Seeing your name written on the back—" he'd turned, modeling the bold Hangul that bears his name and number. "—stating that I’m yours. Is that it?”

“You shouldn’t talk like that,” Jeongguk had warned, breathless, slowly closing in on the smaller man, Jimin’s giggles doing nothing to stop him. 

“Why, what’re you gonna do?” he’d asked, trailing his hands down to grip the hem of the oversized jersey, slowly lifting it upwards, revealing more of that bare, perfect skin, the rounded curve of his ass—

It had set them back another hour, but now they’re in the kitchen, fueling their energy with some leftover takeout Jeongguk saved in the fridge, while he still openly gapes at Jimin in his jersey.

That’s how Yoongi finds them, stopping short when he comes down the hall. 

“Just got home?” Jeongguk wonders, unable to hide the grin he wears at the way Yoongi seems to slightly panic, caught.

“Yeah, I...fell asleep at Hoseok’s place.”

Jimin wears a similar expression, the two of them sharing a look, and Jeongguk feels his chest swell until the skater's eyes widen at the time. 

“I gotta go,” he says regretfully, gathering his things. “It was nice to see you again, hyung,” he directs at Yoongi, while Jeongguk pulls away from the counter he’d been leaning against, setting his plate down near the sink. 

“I’ll walk you out.”

Jeongguk takes his bag from him, carrying it on one arm while their hands find each other with the other, fingers interlacing. He walks him down to his car, pressing him into it as he kisses his lips swollen.  

“I’m sore,” he complains again, though there’s amusement in his voice. “How am I supposed to practice like this?”

“Remember all those times you had me doing those drills that made it difficult to walk?”

“Vaguely.”

“Consider this payback.”

“Mmm, is there a chance I can get a little bit more of that payback later?”

“Absolutely.”

They smile into their next kiss, their lips uncoordinated as a result, making it all the more desperate when they do get it right. 

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

“Okay. I’m going now.”

“You really should,” Jeongguk encourages, sucking the lobe of Jimin’s ear into his mouth and grinning when he shivers. 

“You’re a menace,” he complains, attempting to pull away, only to have Jeongguk reel him back in, round eyes shining when their chests collide.

“Just one more,” he promises, and this time the kiss is slow and sweet, Jimin’s hands burying in his hair as he seems fond of doing. 

They break apart all at once, neither one of them seeming to trust themselves. 

He feels a kind of sinking feeling as he watches Jimin drive away, the familiar emotions of a fresh relationship already taking hold, the desire to be around one another constantly already setting in. With a sigh he makes his way back to his apartment, Yoongi coveting a bowl of ramen when he walks in. 

“You’re limping,” he notes absently, brow raised in suspicion. “Another gym session?”

Jeongguk knows he’s smiling far too wide when he shakes his head. 

“Nope.”

Yoongi stares at him a bit longer, nothing given away in his gaze. He raises the chopsticks to his lips and slurps down some more noodles. 

“Good for you,” he congratulates, and that’s the end of that.  

❄⛸🏒❄

The closer they get to the tournament, the more anxious Jeongguk becomes, jittery in his own skin until he’s sure he’s going to fly out of it. Jimin sits on his bed, watching him pace until he takes his hand in his own and leads them out of the apartment and to his sleek black car. 

He takes him to the rink, and Jeongguk sighs at the prospect of doing more drills, knowing it’ll help, but also sure it’ll only make the anxiety in him skyrocket. So he’s more than surprised when Jimin hands him a pair of skates. 

“Hyung? These are for figure skating.”

“Very astute of you, Jeongguk-ah. They are, indeed, for figure skating.”

“Why are you giving them to me, though?” 

“So we can skate, of course.”

It’s as simple as that. Jeongguk puts them on without further question, tying them tight when Jimin demonstrates on his own pair. 

“You’ll need the support, trust me.”

Jeongguk isn’t used to figure skates. They have a longer blade in the back, are far more constricting then hockey skates, and the tiny teeth on the very front of the blade have him falling almost as soon as he gets out onto the ice, Jimin giggling as he comes to a stop next to him, leaning down to offer a hand. 

“Toepick,” he says in a laugh, like it’s an inside joke, pulling a sigh from Jeongguk.

“Why couldn’t I wear my own skates?”

“I’ve been teaching you how to be better at hockey this whole time, tonight we’re figure skaters.”

“Are we going to do some of those fancy moves I’ve seen you do?”

“Fancy moves,” Jimin repeats with a raised brow.

“Yeah, I wanna spin around and lift you above my head and stuff.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I could do it,” Jeongguk defends, purposefully pouting. 

“Maybe we should start off slow. Learn to walk before you run.”

“I was skating before I could even crawl.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared I’ll drop you.”

Jimin raises a brow at him, shaking his head in amusement. 

“I’m just trying to make sure we both avoid injury. At least until after I perform and you’ve won your game.”

“You think I’m gonna win?”

“I know you’re capable enough,” Jimin answers, and Jeongguk can’t help but beam at him.

“You’re just trying to distract me from the fact that you think I’ll drop you.”

Jimin huffs and rolls his eyes, but Jeongguk can see the mirth in his expression. 

“You’re a big baby.”

“I’m your big baby.”

Jeongguk crowds Jimin’s space, lifting him up into his arms and skating towards the edge of the rink. 

“Told you I could lift you.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” he whispers before scolding him. “What do you think you’re doing,” he demands when Jeongguk sets him down on the rink’s enclosure. “We’re figure skaters right now, and we’re not allowed to touch the walls.”

“I’m a rebel.”

“The penalties you’re racking up. Our score is gonna be so low.”

“I’m sure our chemistry will make up for it.”

“You have no idea how scoring works in figure skating, do you?”

“Of course not, you haven’t taught me that, yet.”

“Ah, I see. An oversight on my part.”

“It really is. How am I expected to do well if I don’t even know what the judges judge. ”

“You’re annoying,” Jimin huffs without any bite. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“If you think I’m cute now, you should see me in my jersey.”

“Not gonna happen, I’m keeping it.”

“I have more than one, you know.”

“You mean we can match?” Jimin exclaims, the excitement in his voice pulling a laugh from Jeongguk. 

“Of course.”

“This is good news.”

Jeongguk nuzzles his neck, breathing in the scent of Jimin and the ice, the scents seeming to go hand in hand.

“I haven’t seen you practice your program lately," he whispers, broaching the subject tentatively.

“I’m saving it. I want you to come watch me and see it then.”

“Watch you compete?”

Jimin nods, expression open and vulnerable. 

“Of course I’ll be there.”

When he smiles at Jeongguk’s easy declaration it's breathtaking, but then Jimin lightly slaps his chest with a grin and demands to be put back on the ice. 

“I’ve got a lot to teach you.”

They practice moves that are of a slightly easier caliber, most of which consist of Jeongguk merely leading or guiding Jimin as he does all the work. 

“Your job is to make me look good,” he explains, giggling at the way Jeongguk pouts.

“I can lift you in the air and make you look good.”

“Hush. Now this move is called the spread eagle.”

Jeongguk’s brows go to his forehead, Jimin barely able to hold back his laughter as he raises a finger in the air, attempting to scold.

“Not a word.”

Jeongguk mimes zipping his lips shut and watches as Jimin demonstrates, gliding along the ice with one leg raised straight up behind him. Once he’s done showing off the movement he enters Jeongguk’s space, placing him how he wants. 

“Your body shadows mine, offering support. Arms here,” he orders, Jimin’s back to his chest while he places his hands along his ribs. “Now, you lead. Guide my movements.”

Jeongguk does, holding Jimin upright while he, well, spreads his legs in a graceful pose, leaning into the embrace.

“Perfect,” Jimin praises, slightly breathless as they skate through a small curve.

He shows him moves with names like Layback, and Biellmann, always asking if Jeongguk wants to try them.  

“How do you not get dizzy,” he wonders, nearly losing his balance.

“Practice,” Jimin answers with a grin. "I think we've done enough. We'll save the more advanced stuff for another time."

Jeongguk kicks at the ice with his blade, faking a tantrum just to hear Jimin's laugh ring out. He skates up to him, expression sultry in a way that is slowly becoming familiar.

"If you can execute this next move I'll let you take me home."

"If," Jeongguk scoffs. "You mean when."

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk sits in the crowd, flanked by both Yoongi and Seokjin, who also came out in support of Taehyung and Hoseok. He's anxious, stomach heavy as if he's the one who's going to be competing. 

They arrived at the rink too early, but Jeongguk had wanted good seats, and now he’s left with a nauseous feeling, one that gets worse as time drags on, mixing with his boredom as performer after performer takes to the ice, none of whom he recognizes and none of which are anywhere near as talented as Jimin. Nearly every university in Seoul that has a figure skating division is here, and Jeongguk simultaneously wants this to be pushed off and over with all at once. 

He’s gratefully distracted when both Taehyung and Hoseok perform, representing the male soloist division of Yonsei University along with Jimin. 

Seokjin and Yoongi tense beside him as their programs begin. They’re beautiful skaters. Clearly talented, and Jeongguk finds himself standing and clapping with the others when their routines come to an end, relief and elation taking over both Yoongi and Jin’s expression in turns. 

When it comes time for Jimin to take the ice, Jeongguk is a wreck. He can’t help fidgeting, knee bouncing so much that Yoongi reaches down and gently places his hand over it, leg stilling when he realizes what he’s doing. 

“It’ll be okay,” the older man assures firmly, and Jeongguk nods back. 

It’ll be okay. 

The music starts up, an instrumental track made up of mostly strings and brass, melancholy and what Jeongguk once described as haunting. Jimin is dressed in white, the material slashed through across the chest as if he’s being corrupted. The white swan slowly transformed into the black swan, Jimin had once explained. His hair is freshly dyed, the pretty blue Jeongguk admires so much, vibrant again.

Jimin waits for his cue, and when he hears it, he starts to move, limbs heavy as if weighted. The way he translates the emotion of the feel of the song through movement captivates Jeongguk, and he remembers all the technical moves Jimin’s program consists of, holding his breath when he knows a particularly hard spin is coming up, or a difficult jump. But there are other parts Jeongguk doesn’t recall…

Jimin is dancing. 

He’s fluid when he moves, like water before freezing, arms flowing around him as he’s continuously in motion, flexibility on display, helping to convey the story he’s trying to tell. Jimin’s shoulders jerk, hands reaching back, up and behind him, creating the illusion of sprouting wings just before his body arches, legs crossing over in order to gain speed, and then…

Then he’s flying, too fast to track as he spins in the air, landing perfectly on one foot, the other extended. He lowers himself to the ground in a move that he told Jeongguk is called a spider lunge, slowly sliding across the surface of the ice. His body curls in on itself when he comes to a stop, the music fading out. 

Jeongguk’s ears are ringing, but he’s the first to gain his feet, clapping as loud as he can as others follow, completely breathless by the absolute art Jimin just performed. 

That’s my boyfriend, he wants to shout, but Jeongguk doesn’t want to take away any of the attention Jimin so rightfully deserves, heart skipping a beat as Jimin bows to all sides of the rink, smile widening when their eyes meet, Jimin returning it with a blinding smile of his own.  

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk waits behind the walls as Jimin bows to those that flock to his side in order to congratulate him, gold glinting from his neck, and likewise Taehyung's and Hoseok's, Yonsei taking the win for male soloists. 

Jeongguk holds a bouquet of lilies, a dusty pink color, though they pale in comparison to the flush that colors Jimin's cheeks.

Time almost stands still when their eyes meet. He tracks it in the minute shifts of Jimin's expression, increments of softness seeping into his features until he's shining like a moon beam, blinding and exquisite.

"For me?" he asks when Jeongguk is close enough, the toes of their shoes bumping, Jeongguk's bouquet nearly flattened against Jimin's chest. 

"Yes," he answers simply, attention more focused on the way Jimin smiles brighter.

"They're lovely."

"Not as lovely as you," he blurts out like a horrible line, but Jimin's eyes start to glisten, knowing by now that Jeongguk means it with the utmost sincerity.

"Did you like it," he asks, referring to his program, a hitch to his voice that belies his emotions, and Jeongguk adamantly nods.

"You were…" he shakes his head, searching for a word that could do him justice. They all fall short. "You're magnificent," he finishes, and it still doesn't feel good enough, even as Jimin's blush deepens and his smile widens. 

He smells the lilies, gaze still trained on Jeongguk from beneath his lashes. 

“I don’t have to stay much longer,” he reveals, appearing coy. “I think you should take me home.”

“You’re right,” Jeongguk agrees, forcing his tone to become serious. “You should rest, you’ve had an exciting day.”

“Very exciting. I’m overwhelmed.”

“I can tell, I think it’s best if we leave now and get you into bed.”

“I think it’s best if you get into me, as well.”

“I completely agree. Shall we?”

They can’t keep a straight face for long, their arms locking as Jeongguk snorts, Jimin breaking out into cute giggles as he holds his bouquet of lilies safely to his chest. 

❄⛸🏒❄

The day of Jeongguk's game he feels sick with nerves, palms sweaty and stomach unsettled. He'd practiced with Jimin last night, going over as much as he could before the skater had cut it short, citing that Jeongguk needed to get some sleep if he wanted to stay sharp. 

He'd undermined that by riding him into the early hours of the morning, but argued it would help him relax, and as such, was necessary.

Jimin seems to know right away where his head is at, expression stern as he grips Jeongguk's shoulders tight, garnering his complete attention. 

He's wearing Jeongguk's jersey.

"You have everything you need at your disposal," he coaches, and Jeongguk nods along, strangely numb.

"Stay low."

"Stay low," Jeongguk repeats, nodding more vigorously.

"Keep your form."

"Keep my form."

"Control."

"Control."

"And mind your ankles."

"Right. Ankles."

"Jeongguk, look at me."

Jeongguk looks.

"I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"More than you know."

"Think I'm gonna be sick."

Jimin's expression is nothing short of endeared, cupping his cheeks in cold palms, grounding him.

"Breathe, Jeongguk-ah," he instructs, placing Jeongguk's own trembling hand over his chest so he can track the steady way he inhales and exhales, the comforting manner in which his heart beats giving him a focal point.

Slowly, he calms.

Jeongguk tries to relay his gratitude with his eyes, Jimin's smile confirming he sees it. He has to address the team soon, and he's the one that needs to appear unwavering, a source of strength and stability for the others. 

He clutches Jimin's arms, squeezing gently to let him know he's okay.

"Still feel sick?"

He shakes his head in answer, taking a long pull from the water bottle Jimin offers from his bag.

"It's gonna be fine," Jimin assures. "You know what you're doing, and you do it well."

"I really wanna ruin you right now," Jeongguk reveals, heat coiling in his belly at the look of pure want Jimin gives him.

"After," he promises, the word echoing off of Jeongguk's own tongue.

After.

❄⛸🏒❄

Jeongguk waits at the center of the ice, antsy, the little red circle in the middle of the cross mocking him. One of Hanyang's center linemans is opposite of him, just as jittery, while the referee closes in from the side. 

He minds his skates, chanting a mantra in his head.

Don't cross the line. Don't cross the line. Don't cross the line.

The last thing he needs is a violation. 

He leans forward, eyes finding Jin's through the guard of his helmet, slightly inclining his head to let him know that he's passing to him.

Jeongguk chokes up on his stick, tightening his hold as he watches the ref's movements out of his peripheral, arm rising with the puck. 

As soon as he let's it drop Jeongguk is on it, knocking into the other center's stick and aggressively sweeping the puck away, shooting it towards Jin. The wingman receives it easily, and Jeongguk's heart thumps in his chest as he takes off, ready to make as many openings as he can in aid. 

❄⛸🏒❄

Hanyang is short-handed. Down a player after their wingman was sent to the penalty box by Jeongguk himself, with still three minutes left to his time before he's released. 

A lot can happen in three minutes, and they're on a power-play.

Namjoon chases the puck, performing an expert steal when there's no one to guard him, taking it towards the other goalie. He tries to pass it to Seokjin, but there's no opening, and Hanyang takes it back, the player's Jersey reading Lee .

It's one of the center linemens, fast as fuck and tall. Jeongguk goes after him, lowering as far as he can towards the ice, extending his legs as much as he's able, muscles no longer protesting. 

He flies through other players, weaving in and out of obstacles expertly. He's also fast. He knows he is, and just as Lee positions himself for a shot, Jeongguk reclaims the puck, taking it back up the rink and passing it successfully to Jaeseok. 

Jeongguk doesn't dare breathe as watches him feigning left, but going right and then trading off with Jin. He carries it the rest of the way, pulls back his arm high and takes the shot…

The horn blares, their score going up by one point.

They're in the lead.

❄⛸🏒❄

The clock counts down, and Hanyang desperately tries to even the score. If they do, there's a chance this could go into overtime and then result in a shootout. But all Jeongguk needs is one more point to breathe easy. There won't be enough time for Hanyang to even the score, and they know that.

They're getting increasingly aggressive, skirting the edge of what would be deemed foul play. Jeongguk calls out what he can, while attempting to break their defense. 

Everyone is tense. He can feel it coming in waves, not just from the other players, but the audience as well. He thinks of Jimin, hands probably gripping painfully into his thighs while his teeth sink into his plump bottom lip in the way they're known to do when he's nervous.

There's a surprising desire to end this quickly so that he can get back to him, see the look on his face when Jeongguk finishes this, one way or the other. 

Daehoon struggles with the puck, surrounded on all sides as Namjoon attempts to take the heat for him before passing it off to Seokjin, who has a better opening. He pulls back to swing, going for the shot when he's practically bowled over by someone from Hanyang, the puck sliding in Jeongguk's direction. 

He tears after it, knocking into others without a care, heart racing until he connects with the disc, shielding it as much as he can with the curved end of his hockey stick. 

Jeongguk pivots, crossovers quick and efficient, keeping the others at bay, the movement now muscle memory after practicing with Jimin for so long.

His eyes fly frantically around the rink, looking for someone open, someone closer. 

Yoongi is unmistakable, smaller than most other players, but quick, agile. He's there, positioned to receive as Jeongguk passes him the puck, and he accepts it easily, lowering himself towards the ice as he stalks the goal. Jeongguk keeps as many players off of him as he can along with Namjoon, holding his breath while a collective hush seems to fall over the rink.

Yoongi takes a slapshot, puck flying through the air—

It's a top shelf hit, the lights flashing in Jeongguk's eyes before he even registers the horn blaring. 

He whoops loudly, their team surrounding Yoongi in pre-celebration. They haven't won yet, there's still some time left, but it's as good as theirs, Hanyang can't come back from this.

Jeongguk smacks Yoongi's helmet affectionately when he reaches him, tugging him into his arms as they're joined by the others. 

"That was some pass," Yoongi calls just as Jeongguk yells, "That was a hell of a shot."

The crowd is roaring, and Jeongguk's face hurts, he's smiling so wide. 

"Didn't I say you'd thank me for putting you through those drills?"

"Do you hear me thanking you?"

Jeongguk smacks his helmet again, the team a crushing force around them as they all share in their elation and relief. 

The sound of a whistle is the only interruption as they're reminded to get back to it.

❄⛸🏒❄

They win. 

It's no surprise, really, after that last shot the rest of the game was more of a formality. They run the clock, the game theirs.

Sejin gives a big, choked speech at the end, the team gathered in the locker room, pulling Jeongguk aside afterwards and explaining his intentions to gift Park Jimin with a basket of gourmet meat in gratitude.

Jimin himself finds Jeongguk still in the locker room, the two literally crashing into each other, most of his gear already removed, chest bare when they hit.

"You—" Jimin starts to exclaim, but then his lips collide with Jeongguk's, messy and desperate.

"You were amazing, Jeongguk-ah."

"It's all because of you," he whispers against Jimin's mouth, the skater already shaking his head before he can finish.

"Don't sell yourself short. You were always amazing."

Jeongguk laughs, that euphoric feeling keeping him high, his entire body singing. 

"I really don't know what would've happened if you didn't agree to help. I know you don't want to take credit," he rushes, pressing a finger over Jimin's lips when he goes to interrupt. "I just want to thank you. You took on teaching me when you didn't have to. When you already had enough to deal with."

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, nearly losing himself in the wilderness of Jimin's eyes, sparkling in the light. He cups Jimin's cheeks; can't help himself, leaning forward to place a firm kiss to his pouting mouth, sweet and easy.

" You are amazing, Park Jimin."

His laugh sounds wet, but still happy as he lightly hits Jeongguk's chest, always seemingly uncomfortable with praise.

"It's not a competition, '' he mutters, and Jeongguk wipes under his eyes when they seem to glisten, though no tears fall.

"You need to get used to me going on about how amazing you are, because I plan to appreciate the fuck out of you."

Jimin gives another wobbly laugh, shaking his head.

"If nothing else, I'll always have a potential career as a hockey trainer."

"I'll write you a glowing recommendation. Best teacher this side of the globe."

"Think you're biased."

"No one can prove that."

"I was just lucky to have a good student. You're very agreeable."

"Mmm. I can be very agreeable."

"So I've discovered."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm. Think you deserve to learn something new from me as a reward for doing so well and winning."

"You can't say things like that, we're in public."

"Then let's get out of here."

"God, you have the best ideas," Jeongguk moans, nuzzling into the side of Jimin's sensitive neck and making him giggle cutely.

"I have some knitted socks on underneath my pants."

Jeongguk's brow rises in confusion at the offered information, but he keeps kissing below the lobe of Jimin's ear, pleased when he gasps.

"Keeping your feet warm in this weather is important."

Jimin laughs, an airy sound that curves Jeongguk's own lips into an endeared smile.

"I don't think you get it," Jimin sighs, gently guiding Jeongguk's hand to the top of his thigh and pressing it there, where he feels the indent of something beneath. "They come all the way up to here."

" Here ," Jeongguk repeats, for the sole purpose of confirming what he so desperately hopes is true. He feels like he's losing his mind, in all honesty. Jimin is wearing thigh high socks, and Jeongguk's jersey, insinuating that he will only be wearing thigh high socks and his jersey, if Jeongguk gets his way.

Jimin slowly nods, eyes alight and a coy, sultry smirk curling the corner of his lips upwards.

The sounds of the locker room fade, the world slipping away as their fingers lock, grip tightening. 

Nothing else really matters.

"Take me home, Jeongguk-ah," Jimin instructs, using that same tone of voice he commanded whenever ordering Jeongguk to get lower to the ice, or to watch his form.

And just like those times, Jeongguk listens and follows through.