Chapter Text
December 5th.
First home basketball game of the season.
First home game that Baku and Gotak are starters for. An impressive feat for two walk on juniors.
The third biggest game of the season. Trailing just behind the last game of the season and their spirit week home game.
Huge crowd. This season is projected to have the largest crowds in their college’s history. Loud noises. Fan chants that every student must know and participate in.
Face paint. School colors. The smell of sweat, jocks, and cheap food vendor snacks. Hair bows. School merch.
Not at all Sieun’s scene.
He much prefers to stay in his quiet little off campus apartment. Nose buried in a textbook. A lecture or some sort of podcast playing while he studies. After he’s caught up on his material, he enjoys curling up on his plush couch with a book and something hot. Some documentary or video essay playing in the background for noise.
Sieun’s world is ran by routine. Quietness. Textbooks. Notes. Lectures.
Juntae calls it autism. Sieun just considers himself a nerd.
He doesn’t leave his apartment on his off days. Unless he has plans with his friends but even then, they have to do lots of begging and pleading. 9 times out of 10, they just end up back at Sieun’s anyways. Since he’s the only one with an off campus apartment.
He’s a ghost on and off campus. Doesn’t speak unless he has too. Hides in corners. Blends in with a crowd. Walks to where he needs to be. Never drifts. Never lingers. Not because he’s shy or scared of people. He just doesn’t see the point in unnecessary distractions or people he doesn’t consider worth his time.
Again, Juntae calls it autism. Sieun says he’s an introvert.
However.
This version of Sieun vanishes at the start of December. And it doesn’t reemerge until the end of March. Sometimes April depending on the season.
Because from the start of December until early spring, Baku and Gotak are on the court. Playing their hearts out. Putting their all onto that hardwood floor. Sweating. Crying. Bleeding sometimes. All of their training and dieting and strict regimes culminate for this.
They live and breathe basketball. It owns their hearts and souls and has saved them on more than one occasion from very bad life decisions. Basketball is their life. Their passion.
And while basketball games are not Sieun’s scene, he loves his friends and he loves his friends interests.
It started their senior year of high school.
Baku had slyly asked Sieun if he had any interest in basketball. Sieun shut it down right away with a firm ‘No. Not happening.’ And he didn’t go to the first game of the season.
And he wasn’t planning on ever attending a game. Much more content to listen to Baku and Gotak rant and rave about how the game went after the event.
But then Juntae had told him how dejected Baku was at the game. How even though they won, he moped the whole end game celebration because their friend group wasn’t complete.
Sieun isn’t good with people. He doesn’t make friends easy and he sure as hell doesn’t keep friends easy. Really, he kind of has no idea what he’s doing in the friend department.
This was one of these lessons he learned: Even if it doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, it’s a big deal to them. Humor them. At least a little bit.
So, he went to the next home game. And the game after that. And the game after that.
And now, four years later, he hasn’t missed more than two home games. One because he was sick. The other because his mom had absolutely demanded Sieun have dinner with her and threatened to stop paying his rent for the rest of the semester if he refused.
Last year, he even took the train with Juntae to Busan to watch them play in the season championship tournament. Even volunteered with Juntae to be water boys during the semi finals.
And this year? This year was huge for them.
Baku and Gotak had officially weaseled their way into consistent starting positions. Center and forward guard. No more sitting the bench and waiting for a teammate to get injured or foul out. No more being thrown into whatever position they were needed.
They played a lot more last year than they had their freshman year, but it was no starting positions.
This year they would have their names called out for the entire stadium to hear. This year they were the ones that had to make sure not to foul out or make a really stupid play.
And Sieun would be there. Every home game. Even the post season games if they made it that far. Because he cares about his friends and this is a really big deal to them. And truthfully, he is proud of them.
He sees the amount of effort both of them put into their sport. Even on the offseason. Remembers how nervous they were to tryout as walk-on’s. How hard the first season was when they realized they were not going to be playing as much as they hoped.
And maybe, buried deep down somewhere no one else could see it, maybe he enjoyed the sport.
He wasn’t sure when it happened. What cause the shift. But somewhere during their freshman year, he began to look forward to the games. To decorating his face with face paint and hanging in the stands. Cheering until his throat was sore.
And sometimes, when he really has to cram, he brings his notes to the games. Tucks himself high up in the stands, somewhere where he can watch but not be disturbed. Just because he likes it. Because he likes basketball.
“Sieun-ah! This one’s for you!”
What he doesn’t like, is Ahn Suho.
His gaze lifts up from his book just long enough to watch the basketball hit the rim, bounce once, and fall out of the basket and onto the court.
Sieun blinks once, throughly unimpressed with Suho’s antics, and refocuses on his book.
Baku howls with laughter. His voice filling the entire half empty stadium, followed by the sound of him clapping and Gotak guffawing. Sieun doesn’t give Suho the satisfaction of looking twice.
Ahn Suho. Point guard. 22. Also a starter but he was starting point guard as early as last year. Scooped up by an athletic scholarship and never looked back.
Baku and Gotak really like him. Even hang out with him outside of games and practice. Not with Sieun of course. Everyone knows Sieun does not like Ahn Suho.
“Wait! Sieun-ah! Watch hyung again. I’ll make it this time!”
Except Ahn Suho it seems.
Sieun does not know if Suho is oblivious to his discontentment or chooses to ignore it. He’s always calling out Sieun’s name. Throwing ridiculous shots in Sieun’s name. Finding him between quarters. In the stands. Before games. After games.
Tries to spot him in the crowd during games. Tries to pull off ridiculous stunts mid game when Sieun is focusing on him because his friends aren’t in.
Has almost cost them more than one game because of these antics.
Objectively, Sieun knows Suho is a good basketball player. He’s broken the schools records for most rebounds in a game as well as most individual points put up during a game. When Suho became their starting point guard, there was a noticeable improvement in their team as a whole.
Subjectively, Sieun wishes he would get pulled.
It’s infuriating watching Suho go from cool and composed and downright deadly on the court one second; to a fumbling idiot whose shooting form looks like a 12 year olds just because he noticed Sieun watching.
And Sieun knows he’s not just making this up. He knows it’s not in his head. He’s been keeping stats.
Originally, he and Juntae recorded just Baku and Gotak’s stats from each game and reported them back so they knew what to improve on. Last year, the team had heard this and begged the two of them to keep stats for them as well.
They do. But Sieun keeps special stats for Suho.
Juntae tracks his actual stats. Rebounds. Steals. Points put up. How many times he was blocked. Things like that.
Sieun tracks how many times he searched the crowd for Sieun. How many times he’s pointed Sieun out and proceeded to miss a basket. How many times they make eye contact and Suho loses control of the ball. How many times Suho hears Sieun cheer and gets the ball stolen from him.
Things like that.
The first home game of the season hasn’t even started yet, and Sieun already adds a tick to his Suho stat list.
One missed basket after dedicating it to me.
There’s about four hours before the actual game. Most of the team is here now, fucking around. Warming up. Playing children’s games like PIG or knockout.
Most students aren’t actually allowed in the stadium yet. Doors don’t open until an hour before the game starts.
Most students are not Seo Juntae and Yeon Sieun.
After last year, the coaches told them they would be granted special privileges this year. Early entrance to the stadium. They could be water boys if they wanted. Access to the locker rooms.
All they had to do was give the players and the coaches the stats of each game. And promise to keep painting their faces. For school spirit or whatever.
Face paint is not allowed to be worn by players during the game, unless it was spirit week. But during opening ceremonies? They were allowed to go crazy.
Sieun likes to keep his face paint simple. Unless it’s post season games.
He switches between a handprint and the dots that swirl around the bridge of his nose and up to his eyes. Along with either Baku or Gotak’s number on his cheek. Juntae and him switch between Baku and Gotak each game.
“Seongje!”
Juntae’s voice suddenly echoes around the stadium. Heads turning. Sieun lifting his from his book.
The man in question is currently fumbling with a basketball and trying to cover the blush on his ears with his hair. Juntae merely waves his paintbrush.
“It’s your turn for face paint.”
Sieun watches wordlessly as Seongje drops the basketball immediately and high tails it for Juntae. A few more players and they’ll swap off and Sieun will finish the ones Juntae didn’t get to.
“Sieun-ah. Seriously. Watch me this time!”
Suho’s voice whips through the half-empty stadium again. Loud. Commanding. Irritating.
Slowly, without a word, Sieun turns his head to the source of his irritation. Blinking. He will not give Suho the satisfaction of an over the top response. Those are his favorite.
Suho’s already staring at him with wide eyes. Similar to a puppy. He has a basketball in his hand. He notably lights up when Sieun’s gaze focuses on him.
“Watch your hyung,” Suho calls.
Sieun stares.
Suho beams. And then he’s straightening his form. Planting his feet just behind the three point line. Jumps up. Releases the ball from his grip.
Sieun watches the ball hit the rim, the sound a mockery of what it’ll sound like tonight. The ball slowly follows the bright orange rim, teeters on the edge.
And falls out on the opposite side of the basket. Clattering onto the floor. Not into the basket.
“Wow.” Sieun deadpans. “It’s crazy that the NBA hasn’t called to steal you away to America with skills like that.”
Even from his spot in the stands, Sieun can see the red forming on Suho’s face. The flush of his ears. The way his face tightens when he’s embarrassed.
Sieun hates that he’s learned to read the point guard so well.
“It’s just warm up! I’m warming up. Just you wait Sieun-ah! I’ll blow your socks off tonight! I’m gonna put up 40 points all by myself!”
Sieun snorts. The bait so obvious and obnoxious he can’t help but fall for it. “If you put up 40 points in this game, I’ll wear your jersey to spirit week.”
A hush falls over the gym. Makes Sieun’s words seem like he yelled them instead of talking in his usual tone of voice. There’s not even a dull thud of someone dribbling.
“What did you just say?” Suho immediately demands.
Sieun’s aware of what implications his words mean. Wearing the jersey of someone on the team was basically announcing to the whole school that you were together. A thing. Very much an obnoxious high school tradition but one that clings around stubbornly.
Sieun has never, and will never, wear someone’s jersey to a game.
40 points is unheard of for players at this level. Suho may have broken the school record but even his own best is 28. 40 is almost double that. It’s why Sieun felt bold enough to make such an outlandish claim.
Suho couldn’t do it.
“Do your ears only work when you’re on the court?” Sieun answers.
Suho’s still staring at him, jaw slack. Basketball long forgotten at the edge of the practice court.
“You look stupid. Close your mouth,” Sieun snaps.
Suho blinks once. Closes his mouth. “You can’t take that back.”
Sieun shrugs. “And you can’t achieve that.”
Something crackles between their bodies. Even with all this distance between them. The air pulls taunt. Charging with something. This is also something thats been happening recently whenever he goes the rounds with Suho.
The air between them shifts into something unknown. Something Sieun doesn’t like.
“Sieun-ah! Your turn to face paint!”
Suho breaks eye contact first.
On his way down the bleacher stairs and over to where Juntae has set up their supplies, he notices Suho shuffling closer. Sieun, keeps his gaze straight ahead. Pretends not to notice how suddenly Suho seems to be shooting closer and closer to the edge of the court
Their shoulders brush as Sieun steps onto the hardwood.
“Watch it.”
Sieun doesn’t so much as blink at Suho as the words leave his mouth. Keeps marching straight on, not dignifying Suho with the attention he’s still so clearly begging for.
“You could be a little nicer to me if you’re going to be wearing my jersey.”
Sieun grinds down on his teeth so hard, he thinks they’ll crack right down the middle. It’s easy, it so easy to rise to the bait Suho lays out for him. He doesn’t know why he lets himself be baited so easily by Suho. Sieun does not get rage baited. He rage baits.
He won’t take this one though. Not before he has to paint and risk accidentally taking his anger out on some poor, innocent player.
Instead, he swallows down the insults and sets his stuff down beside Juntae. Rearranges the work space and turns to his friend with a heavy sigh.
“Why didn’t you do Suho?”
His friend (allegedly), just smiles softly. “He likes it better when you do.”
And then Juntae is scampering away like some sort of woodland creature. Before Sieun can snap anything, or throw anything. Instead of debating the ramifications of homicide, he turns his attention to the list of players he has to work through.
Ahn Suho is first.
Sieun will do him last.
“Baekjin-ah!” He calls instead. “You’re up!”
Sieun flies through the players. His face paint is never as detailed as Juntae’s but it’s neat and full of school spirit. He always finishes faster than Juntae does.
He dots across Baekjin’s nose and cheeks. Paints a basketball in their school colors on Gotak’s cheek. Adds a hand print to Wooyoung’s face. Kitten whiskers in their school colors on Minho.
And then there’s that last name. The final name. The player moping around the edge of the court in hopes Sieun finally calls his name. Trying to appear like he just so happens to be this close to Sieun, but he hasn’t actually shot the ball in 10 minutes.
“Suho.” Sieun’s tone is notably drier than when he calls the others.
If Suho notices, he doesn’t act like it. Or maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe any form of Sieun’s attention is enough for him to act like an idiot over. The point guard brightens instantly. Smiles so wide Sieun has to wonder if it hurts his cheeks.
He throws the ball away without looking. Someone, it sounds like Baku, yelps in the distance.
Sieun busies himself with cleaning his brushes so he doesn’t have to watch Suho approach him.
And when Suho does sit down, it’s dramatic and full of flare. Like everything he does. A heavy sigh full of emotion and an elbow on the table as he leans his head in his hands. Shaking the table and the water.
Sieun lifts his gaze up long enough to glare.
Suho’s already smiling. “Give me puppy face paint. In the school colors. Like you did to Minho.”
Sieun’s mouth pinches into a frown. “Minho was a cat.”
“So make mine a dog.”
“And how do I do that if you don’t have any ears?”
Suho’s response is instant. Like he was waiting for it. His hands come up to his chest and he cups them to look like paws. “Woof woof.”
“Don’t ever do that around me again.”
“Sieun-ah! You’re no fun. C’mon. It was cute. Admit it.”
“You’re 22. Why the fuck are you acting like a dog?”
Something in Suho’s gaze flickers. Just for a second. Fast enough Sieun almost wonders if he hallucinates it.
“You know, some people are into that.”
Sieun’s eye flare without him meaning to. He stares. Blinks once. Twice. Ignores whatever emotions are swirling in his chest.
“Act like a normal human being, or as normal as you can, or I’m not painting your face.” Sieun spits out.
Suho’s mouth pulls into a pout and the urge to take face paint and smear it all over his face, hits Sieun strong.
“Wahhh, Sieunnie you really are mean to me.”
“Pick something else Suho.”
“Fine.” Suho sighs again, eyebrows pinching into a dejected look. “Your hand print then.”
Sieun glowers. Not at all trusting Suho’s motive but unable to find something objectively wrong with it. At least on the surface.
So, he lathers his hand with their school colors. Swirls the three different colors of black, white, and red along various parts of his hand. Lifts his hand up.
“Look straight ahead. And don’t move,” he instructs.
Suho nods and goes oddly still. Not even a smirk or a twitch of an eyebrow. Sieun brings his hand up, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth as he focuses. Suho’s gaze darkens, eyes flicking down to narrow in on Sieun’s mouth.
Sieun ignores him. He’s good at that. “Close your eyes.”
Suho obeys and Sieun gently plants his hand across Suho’s face. His edge of his palm grazes the edge of Suho’s mouth. The rest of his fingers sprawling out across the left side of Suho’s face. His thumb pressing against Suho’s jaw like, his fingers pressing down on his forehead.
He presses down a little harder, careful to not wiggle his hand so it comes away clear and crisp and not smudged. And he holds it there for a few beats, just to really make sure it takes in one go.
Neither of them speak. Their breaths syncing up. Suho’s breath coming out in hot puffs against Sieun’s palm. Sieun just stares at Suho’s face. Noting the few moles littered across his skin. The beads of sweat along his hairline.
Suho moves.
Just a touch. Wouldn’t really be noticeable if Sieun wasn’t literally pressed against his face. It’s just a centimeter but his head turns. His lips pressing further against Sieun’s palm.
And then his lips pucker slightly. Again, only noticeable because Sieun is literally pressed against him. Warm, soft skin grazes against Sieun’s palm.
It’s a kiss. Soft, fleeting. Doesn’t last long at all. Literally a pucker of Suho’s lips against his skin and then his mouth is falling back to a smooth line. Like nothing happened.
Like it didn’t just ignite a fire under Sieun’s skin.
Like he can’t feel his face start to burn. Like he doesn’t feel a pulse of something shoot through his body and he almost has to squeeze his thighs closed to ease it. Like he’s not wishing-
Sieun yanks his hand back quickly. Eyes wide as he stares at Suho’s face agin, lying to himself and saying that he’s staring at the handprint. It comes out the same as the others. Crisp. Clean. Full of school spirit.
But the others didn’t leave a fire simmering away under Sieun’s skin.
“You’re done,” Sieun announces. Praising himself for the way his voice doesn’t shake.
Suho’s eyes flutter open, careful to not accidentally smear paint into his eye. Their eyes meet. Sieun prays he doesn’t say anything about the blush Sieun clearly feels on his skin. Or he will stab something sharp into the athlete.
“I hope you know,” Suho suddenly starts. It makes Sieun’s spine straighten and eyes widen. Just a tad. “You may have been kidding but I was not.”
Sieun’s brow furrows. “What?”
Suho is standing. A sly grin playing on his lips. “I hope you’re ready to wear my jersey during the spirit week game baby. Because I’m putting 40 points up tonight.”
Sieun can only gape as Suho winks and strolls away. The awkwardness that normally flutters around him long gone. Sieun is not dumb. He knows Suho is interested in him. For what purposes, Sieun isn’t sure. Maybe he sees Sieun as a challenge. Maybe he sees him something to be tamed.
Sieun isn’t sure. Doesn’t really care because he never will let himself fall under the sway of Ahn Suho. But whatever just happened there… that was a Suho Sieun has never dealt with before.
He knows how to handle the annoying athlete. The bumbling class clown who thinks laughing the loudest will hide any pain he feels. The awkward flirt who points Sieun out and airballs after he shoots. Sieun does not know how to handle this smooth flirt.
And for the first time since he’s really met Ahn Suho, he’s realizing he may be a little out of his depth.
—
1 rebound for Baekjin.
Sieun’s gaze flies up from his notebook as the roar of the crowd fills his ears.
The predictions for today’s game were right. This is a record breaking crowd. By far the largest Sieun has ever been crammed into. Every square inch of space is filled with bodies. He knows the crowd spills out the stadium doors and crowds around the outdoor monitors too.
This game feels different too. The energy pulsing through the crowd is one Sieun has only ever felt once before. Last year when they went to the semi-finals. He’s never felt this raw, crackling energy surge like this before. It’s breathtaking. It’s easy to get swept away in.
The players seem able to pick up on it too. All of them are on fire. Very few mistakes have been made. Gotak has fouled twice. Seongje turned over the ball once after a nasty back and forth. Other than that, they’ve been playing like a well oiled machine
Sieun and Juntae have been recording more good stats than bad.
“Baekjin-ah!”
“The ball goes to Ahn Suho. He’s at the three point line. Two guards on him. Is he going to shoot or will he pass?”
And then there’s him.
The level at which Suho has been playing at today is freaky to say the least. Sieun has never seen him this focused. This razor sharp before in his life.
He hasn’t lost control of the ball a single time. Hasn’t turned it over once. Stole it from the other team three times-
“He shoots! He’s crazy! Will he make it?”
Sieun’s on his feet, hands on his head and mouth wide open as his stomach tightens in anticipation.
The ball swishes into the hoop without even hitting the rim. A perfect shot. Suho couldn’t have aimed better.
The crowd goes absolutely ballistic.
Deafening roars fill the stadium, Sieun’s own voice among them. He swears he feels the stadium shake from the intensity. Suho’s face lights up for just a split second, his eyes finding Sieun on the sidelines; as close to the court as non players can get. Sieun’s breath catches for a second.
“And another three points for Ahn Suho! That makes a total of 31 total points put up in three quarters! This officially his best, and the schools best performance! Will he manage to keep up the momentum?”
Just as fast as Suho’s gaze found Sieun’s, it’s gone again. His focus back on the game. On diving between sweaty bodies and slapping the ball away.
“Did you mark that down?” Juntae yells over the roar of the crowd. His glasses swapped out for contacts. Easier than trying to keep his glasses on his face while he’s leaping around.
“I am now!” Sieun yells back, his gaze back on his notebook.
Three pointer for Suho. 31 total points.
The buzzer sounds. End of the third quarter.
Sieun’s gaze whips up.
Suho’s already crossed the court. Face red. Sweat pouring down his face. Jersey damp and dark along his sides and neckline. Compression sleeves half fallen down his arm. Knee banged up from where he scrambled for a loose ball.
He lifts his jersey and wipes at his face.
Sieun’s mouth dries up at the sight of his abs. Bright with sweat. Chiseled. Heaving from exertion.
The crowd behind him absolutely loses their mind.
He wipes his forehead off first. Then drags the jersey down his face with a groan loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
Sieun straightens in his seat.
Their eyes meet as his jersey falls down, stomach hiding from view. Suho’s mouth pulls up into a sly smirk. Sieun knows what he’s thinking without him having to say it.
‘You’re wearing my jersey on spirit week.’
And for the first time all night, Sieun believes him. He hasn’t doubted himself all night. Confident that Suho would not be able to pull it off. That he would get close. Maybe beat his record again. But he wouldn’t actually achieve it.
But now, as they break eye contact and Suho squirts water into his mouth, Sieun knows.
He’s lost.
Sieun doesn’t lose at anything.
“Sieunnie!”
Baku pops into view before the rage can truly settle into Sieun’s little body. His gaze immediately refocuses on his friend.
“Yes?”
“How many shots have I blocked?”
Sieun tilts his head down, scanning for Baku’s name. “6.”
“Oh. That’s it?”
Sieun brings his gaze back up. “You’re leading the team in blocks today.”
His friend visibly brightens. “Fuck yea! I’ll make it ten before the end of the game just watch me!”
And then the coach is calling for them to circle up. They’re leading the game but only by 12. That’s an easy gap to close with 12 minutes left. Sieun’s sure the coach is discussing how to move next.
“Juntae!”
Both their heads shoot up. Seongje is staring at Juntae. “Who is their biggest scorer?”
Sieun doesn’t miss the way his friends ear tips turn pink. “Number 12!”
Seongje winks and turns back into the huddle. Juntae has turned absolutely red.
Sieun has to smother his smile.
The whistle blows. The team breaks up.
“Sieun-ah!”
Sieun is going to kill their star player.
Suho catches his eye as he backs back onto the court. Cocky smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. He winks. “Make sure you watch me.”
If hurling things onto the court didn’t get you permanently banned from school sporting events, Sieun would so throw his shoe at Suho.
“He seems… more intense than normal.” Juntae notes as the ref blows the whistle again.
Sieun watches the other team set the ball into motion. His gaze focused on Gotak. “I hate it.”
“Since when do you lie Sieun-ah?”
Sieun stiffens, his gaze still on the ball. Watching it bounce from player to player. Large hands slapping at it. Swears and call outs.
“I’m not lying,” Sieun bites out.
The ball is thrown up into the air, for the opposing team. A hush falls over the crowd.
Baku leaps, his huge hands coming around and snatching the ball down before it gets the chance to hit its apex.
Sieun, as well as half the stadium, is on their feet shouting Baku’s name at the top of their lungs.
“And Park Humin with a beautiful steal! What a way to start this final quarter!”
The ball is hurled down the court, right into Gotak’s waiting hands. They definitely planned this in between quarters. Sieun’s breath is in his throat.
A defender sweeps in, fast enough Sieun hadn’t even seen him race from half court. Gotak stops in his tracks and throws the ball to his left, not even sparing a glance.
Suho snatches the ball and moves in for a layup. Another defender sweeps in, arms raised to stop the ball.
Seongje sets a screen, feet planted beautifully and the defender crashes right into him; opening Suho right up for the layup.
Sieun’s notebook is at his side. Stats forgotten as he watches Suho drive. Mentally, he makes a note to remind Juntae to jot down the screen for Seongje.
Suho drives in, brushes past another defender and the ball is in the air. It hits the corner of the backboard and falls straight into the hoop.
“And another two points for Ahn Suho! He cannot be stopped tonight!”
The announcers words are almost drowned out by the screams of the crowd. Immediately, the students starts their chant.
“You can’t stop him!” Followed by clapping. “You can’t stop him!” More clapping.
And Suho is eating it up. Enjoying every little bit of ego boosting the student body is giving him. Huge smile on his face. Waving his arms wildly to encourage the volume up. It’s easy to get swept up in him. In Ahn Suho.
“Say his name!” Someone shouts.
“Ahn Suho!” The crowd responds.
“Say his name!”
“Ahn Suho!!“
Sieun joins in on that one.
A mistake. A fatal one. Because as Suho is jogging by, he hears it. His feet stall, close to Sieun. He turns, that grin on his face wolfish.
Sieun feels cornered in this big ass stadium.
Suho cups his hands over his mouth. “What’s my name?” His voice carries through the stadium. Even over the crowd.
“Ahn Suho!” The entire stadium screams back. Not Sieun. No. Not again.
Suho licks his lips, casting one final look at Sieun before jogging into position. He’s still grinning.
“You sure you’re not lying?” Juntae suddenly snarks.
Sieun swallows. “He’s insufferable.”
“And he’s playing like this for you.”
“I never asked him too.”
“You didn’t have too. You challenged him to it.”
Sieun’s mouth pinches into a frown. “Whose side are you on?”
His friend cackles. “My own.”
Sieun ignores that comment and ignores the flutter in his stomach. He wishes Suho would go back to the bumbling idiot he knows. At least that kind of flirting he can handle. This kind…
He busies himself with filling in the stats. Ignore the burning of his ears. Only lifts his gaze back up when the whistle blows.
The rest of the game is a blur.
The team moves with precision. A well oiled machine that know how and when to strike. Rebounds. Steals. Screams. Baekjin fouls once.
Another three by Suho. Then another layup. Another one.
Point after point on the board all put up by Suho. And it’s not like he’s hoarding the ball and making bad calls by being greedy. He just consistently is the best option to pass to. The most open. The quickest rebound.
Each time the team breaks for down court, Sieun feels his death warrant being signed.
With two minutes left on the clock, his execution is finalized.
“And that makes 40 points put up by Ahn Suho! This is his best performance of his career!”
The stadium is filled with roaring. With cheers. Screams for Suho. Sieun doesn’t hear them.
All he hears is a ringing in his ears.
Suho doesn’t even spare a glance to the crowd. Doesn’t bother hyping himself up the way that drives the stadium nuts. No.
As the team breaks for the other side of the court, their eyes meet. Suho’s grinning like a fox that found its way into then hen cage.
He winks at Sieun, the ball already in motion so he can’t do any more than that.
But it’s enough. It’s get the message across. As if the 40 points he just secured wasn’t enough.
The final two minutes pass by in a blur. Sieun is only aware of what’s happening because of the fact he’s keeping stats.
Suho does not back down after securing the 40 points, no. He goes just as hard as he had before. Even though the other team has blown their chance. Everyone in the stadium knows Suho’s team is walking out the victors.
But Suho either likes to show off or he genuinely cannot be stopped. Because by the time the final buzzer rings. his final solo count is 46.
The next highest scorer is Gotak at 13.
It’s laughable, really. Sieun wishes he could laugh at how fucking absurd this whole situation is. How fucking dumb he was to make that bet.
Juntae thinks it’s hilarious. He hasn’t stopped laughing since Suho hit 40.
The final buzzer rings and Sieun feels like he just walked himself to the gallows and looped the rope around his neck himself.
After the game ends, it’s really a blur for Sieun.
The crowds surge forward. Everyone wanting to see the team. To see /Suho/. Figure what the hell happened and how on earth he’d played that well.
Sieun and Juntae get swallowed up by the crowd. Both of them knowing trying to fight their ways to the court to deliver the stats right now is a waste of time. The school will be running off this high for a long time.
“Let’s go,” Sieun decides for them. He grabs Juntae’s arm, his friend’s face pinched in confusion.
“What?”
“Let’s go,” Sieun repeats. Slightly frenzied.
“We can’t. We need to talk to coach and-“
“We’ll drop by before practice starts tomorrow. We can’t fight our way to the court. Let’s. Go.”
Juntae pulls his arm away. Not harshly because Sieun wasn’t holding tight. “You just don’t want to face Suho.”
Sieun frowns. It’s true but he will not admit it. He shakes his head. “No. I just think it’s pointless to try and find them in this chaos.”
“Sieun-ah,” Juntae’s mouth curls up into an evil, evil smile. “We don’t have to find them.”
“What’re you- what the fuck!”
All at once, Sieun is levitating. His feet leave the ground and two warm (strong) appendages are hoisting him up, up into the air.
Sieun thrashes, spits a little like a cat. But his kidnapper holds tight. “Found you.” Suho’s breath is hot and soft against Sieun’s ear. Makes Sieun’s entire body lock up and his eyes go wide.
“Come on!” Suho croons. “Coach needs to see you two!”
And well, it’s not like he has a choice.
Juntae gathers the rest of their things while Sieun is being hauled away like he weighs nothing. He doesn’t even fight it anymore. Accepting his fate. He’s been doing that a lot tonight.
“Did you see me Sieun-ah?” Suho’s breath tickles his ear again. Sieun feels his nose crinkle. “I played so well for you.”
And it’s now, halfway across the court and to the locker room that Sieun realizes what situation he’s got himself in. Suho, sweaty and hot and still puffing a little from exertion; carrying him across the court. Skin damp. Hot. Breathing right into Sieun’s ear.
Sieun stiffens in his hold. Swallows.
Suho squeezes his abdomen gently.
“I wasn’t watching you. I was keeping stats,” Sieun eventually bites out.
A warm chuckle against his ear (again), is his reply.
“Ah Sieunnie, don’t be like that. I heard you shouting my name.”
They’re almost at the locker room. Sieun is almost free.
“A lapse in judgment. I won’t make it again.”
“Was the bet we made a lapse in judgement too hm? Gonna try and back out now that I won?”
Suho releases his hold on Sieun as they approach the locker room doors. Dropping Sieun down and making him stumble a bit to regain his balance.
Sieun sniffs and wipes at his clothes. Like that can erase the burning of Suho’s touch on him. Erase the warmth curling in Sieun’s stomach.
Their eyes meet.
“I’m not going back. A deal is a deal,” Sieun admits. He knows, deep down, if he threw a big enough fit that Suho would let Sieun back out. That he could very easily weasel his way out of this.
But that feels cowardly.
Suho’s eyes widen. “What?”
“I’m not backing down and I wont take it back. I’ll wear your stupid jersey.” Sieun nudges the locker room door open and glares at Suho. “I just wish we made it 50.”
Suho’s answering grin is fiendish. “Then I would’ve just had to get 50.”