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TITLE : Gentlemen's Agreement 14
- Someone's Waiting to Love You
Be brave, little one Always keep a little
prayer in your pocket Have faith, little one "Someone's Waiting For You" - The Rescuers June 11th 2003 Hong Sung-Min had begged and pleaded with his father to be allowed to stay up to watch the game with him, and despite his mother's objections and his younger brother's indignant look as he was ushered off into bed, his father had ultimately relented, on the condition that he promise to not let his toys scatter all over their apartment as he'd done in the past. And yet now, as the first strains of the Argentinian national anthem began to play and the Telemundo commentators ceased their incessant jabbering in a language he couldn't even begin to comprehend, Sung-Min was already asleep. Smiling, Hong Myung-Bo leaned down and kissed his eldest son's forehead, as he lay curled in his father's lap, his bare feet brushing on the upholstery of the living room couch they sat on. As he'd predicted, Sung-Min couldn't keep himself awake long enough for the match, what with the energy he'd expended all day long both at pre-school and running about at home, his mother chasing after him with spoon in hand. Sung-Min was five now, ever growing, talkative and curious about the world and everything in it, and at three years old his other son Cheong-Min was fast catching up. Myung-Bo took great pride and joy in seeing them grow, complete with the tinge of regret he knew every parent must have felt at one point or another, the sense that their babies were growing up much faster than they could savor every moment of it. Still, Sung-Min wasn't old enough to be able to keep himself awake past midnight, and for a while Myung-Bo debated whether or not he should put his son to bed right away, but he decided to wait until after the national anthems were finished playing. Earlier that week Argentina had demolished Japan 4-0, and the least he could hope was that his friends and juniors were not about to suffer the same fate. As the first strains of 'Aegukka' began playing, the camera did its customary pan to the line of Korean players, each holding his hand over his heart with but one exception-as befitting his current status as a member of the military, Ahn Jung-Hwan held his right hand to his temple in a crisp salute. Myung-Bo studied his expression intently for as long as he could before the camera moved over to focus on Cho Byung-Kuk. Ahn had that look about him, the look of a man shouldering a great responsibility and determined to come through. Myung-Bo had been among those shocked when it was revealed that the military had succumbed to the public's demands and allowed Ahn to take a two-day leave to participate in this match. He'd condemned it as a near-sighted attempt to appease the public and win back their waning support of the K-League and the national team, an attempt that he feared would not do much good. Most of all, he hated the way it thrust Ahn into a spotlight he surely didn't want and seemed to brush everyone else off. The faces, both familiar and new, continued to appear. Determined-looking Kim Nam-Il, with Kim Tae-Young as expected at his side, Song Chong-Gug with his eyes closed as always, Lee Chun-Soo looking spirited as ever, confident Lee Woon-Jae, a more mature-looking and rater somber Lee Young-Pyo, the tall youngsters Kim Dong-Jin and Kim Jin-Kyu, and at the very end of the line, wearing the captain's armband, was Yoo Sang-Chul. As the last verse of the national anthem faded, the crowd at Seoul Sangam erupted into loud cheers, and the now-familiar drumbeat resumed. Myung-Bo stood, carefully cradling Sung-Min in his arms so as not to wake him, and quietly walked towards the children's bedroom. With luck, he could settle his son into bed without much protest, if any, and return to the living room in time for the kick-off whistle. Seoul 22.45 p.m. He shut his eyes and listened. A multitude of noises came drifting in his ears, each demanding attention, each sorted and catalogued and set aside. The sounds of traffic seven floors below the hotel room, the drone of the air conditioner, the rustle of the bedsheets, the harsh, masculine grunting against his shoulders, and his own strangled, pained moans into the muffling cotton of the pillow case underneath his head. He wound his fingers in the sheets, clutching so tight he knew the creases would be permanent. It hurt, of course-and for once he didn't try to ignore the pain, didn't try to detach himself from the experience or from the person inflicting the pain on him. For once he welcomed it, relished it in all his self-loathing frustration as he felt the weight of another body pressing onto him, pounding its own frustrations ruthlessly into his being. He felt like he was being punished, like they were both punishing themselves. For the lack of coordination they showed out there on the pitch tonight, for the two goals they conceded. And for the big fat zero they scored. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, amazingly enough it's the only place he's bleeding so far. Perhaps he was more of a well-used whore than he previously thought, a notion that gave him no comfort whatsoever. And the place he usually retreated to in his mind, the one he would go to when he needed to separate himself from his surroundings, was no longer the safe haven it used to be. If anything, what he found there was even more disconcerting than his bitter reality. Long, torturous moments later, the body on top him went slack, sated and exhausted, and abruptly rolled off him and to the side, without so much a parting kiss or a kind word-not that he expected there to be. The mattress shifted, the heat over his back dissipated, and soon he found himself alone once again, alone and lonelier than he'd ever been in his life. He heard the bathroom door open and the sound of water, and as much as he longed to feel water over his damp skin, wash away the stains and the blood and the tears, he did not move a muscle. He would not do so unless commanded. That was part of the deal. In any case he doubted it would've done him any good-the water would not wash away the tainted, dirty feeling he had in his soul. Sighing faintly into the pillowcase, Lee Chun-Soo rolled onto his side and forced himself to sleep. "Well, it wasn't *that* bad of a performance. I'd say we played better than we did against Uruguay." Ahn Jung-Hwan nodded in agreement, but it was an empty gesture. Lee Young-Pyo, who had offered that small consolation from his station near the window, added a helpless little shrug. "We put up a fight." he said. "Not a good one, though." Song Chong-Gug said from the bed, where Jung-Hwan's small suitcase lay open. "Or at least, not good enough." Jung-Hwan tucked the last of his belongings into the slit pockets of the suitcase and closed it, zipping it up. Tomorrow he would be shuttled right back to the military training base in Gwangju, where he would serve the remainder of his one-month mandatory service having been allowed two days' leave to play the Argentina match. To the disappointment of millions but not to the surprise of anyone worth their salt in analyzing the game of football, his presence was of little effect. "Whatever the argument, this puts Coelho under even more pressure.." he said as he hefted the suitcase from the bed and set it on the carpet. "Isn't it too early to be talking about that?" Young-Pyo looked slightly incredulous. "He's only been here for a few months." Jung-Hwan threw him a sardonic smile. "Young-Pyo, we're talking about the same people who worked their asses off trying to find a loophole in our military service law to bring me here. I don't think you can count on them to act on good logic and reasoning." Chong-Gug chuckled bitterly. "Great, only a year since the World Cup and our own FA already has its head so far up its ass." "Well, we wouldn't be having this problem if we were *winning* matches." Young-Pyo observed. "Let's face it-it all comes down to us, the players, in the end." Jung-Hwan sighed. "Of course. But it would help if people actually realized that they can't expect miracles every single time." "I second that." Chong-Gug added. "As for me, it's back to the barracks." Jung-Hwan sat down on the bed his suitcase had just vacated. "For another two weeks." "And back to Japan after that?" "Yes, back to Japan." Jung-Hwan said. Back to Hye-Won, he thought silently. "What about you, Chong-Gug...ready for the big day?" The Feyenoord player smiled, warmly this time. "About as ready as I can be." "You'll be fine." Jung-Hwan patted his teammate's knee. "How about your honeymoon plans?" Chong-Gug looked across the room at Young-Pyo. "Well, we'd talked about that, and-" "We decided to do it together." Young-Pyo finished for him. "Him, me, and Seol. At least for the first leg of it." "Oh, that's nice." Jung-Hwan said. "Where?" "Cheju." Young-Pyo said. "I know, I know, tourist trap and all-but we can't really go far, we still have things to do here." "Right. The Peace Cup." Jung-Hwan said. "Well, it doesn't start until next month, but the rest of the PSV team will be arriving in less than three weeks," Young-Pyo said. "They'll want me and Ji-Sung to be match-fit and ready for it." "And I've got the Asian tour with Feyenoord." Chong-Gug said. "We'll be going to Japan to play with Shinji's old club, Urawa Reds, and then back here to play Busan." "Well, well.." Jung-Hwan folded his arms in front of him. "You two sure chose a heck of a busy month to get married." Chong-Gug smiled. "What about you?" "Me?" "You didn't exactly marry during a lax period, my friend.." Jung-Hwan smirked. "A year before the World Cup, there's practically *no* lax period. And we got the whole winter break for our honeymoon, too." "Well, I guess that's right." Jung-Hwan ran his fingers through his hair-his short, close-cropped, military-style hair. It probably won't take long to grow back-he knew his wife had nearly been in tears when they sheared it off, but Hye-Won nonetheless put on a brave face as she waved him off into the military compound nearly two weeks ago, giving him a smile that had made his days without her at least somewhat bearable. And while they waited for his hair to grow back, he knew exactly what he wanted to do to pass the time. June 13th Kwangnyang 19.40 p.m. "Wake up, sleepyhead...dinner time." "Hmmm?" "Wake up." "Hmmm..." Kim Nam-Il felt a gentle pair of lips nipping at his right shoulder and smiled drowsily, opening his eyes to find Choi Tae-Uk hovering over him. The dimness of the room told him that it was already dark outside, which meant that he must've been sleeping for a good few hours or so. Above him, his boyfriend smiled and gestured towards door leading out of the bedroom. "I've got dinner set up." Nam-Il pulled himself up to rest on his elbows, blinking several times. "You could've woken me up earlier...so I could help." Uke snorted derisively. "Asking you to help preparing dinner is like asking an elephant to balance himself on teacups." Nam-Il, his sleep-fogged brain registering just enough of Uke's words to understand their meaning, could only offer a smile. "Hand me my pants, will you?" Uke bent over the side of the bed to retrieve the requested object and handed it to Nam-Il, who pulled it on all the while letting out a big yawn, prompting another smile from his lover. "Tae-Young called while you were sleeping." "Really?" Nam-Il swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked up his shirt from the floor-thankfully, no lost buttons. Uke had been quite impatient to get it off him earlier that afternoon. "Why didn't you wake me up?" "He told me not to." Uke scooted off the mattress. "Asked about how the planning was going-you know, for our little getaway trip. He suggested several more places on the south side of Cheju." Nam-Il smiled as he stood up. "Ever helpful, isn't he?" They went to the dining room of Nam-Il's apartment, where Uke had dinner set out on the circular table. While they ate, Nam-Il noticed that Uke had his cell phone nearby and was constantly checking it and texting with it, his thumb flying over the keypad faster than the eye could register. "Something wrong?" he asked quietly. Uke put the cell phone down and shook his head as he returned to the meal. "It's just...I've been a little worried about Chun-Soo." "What's up with him?" "I don't know..he's been acting strange since about two days before the Argentina match. Real sullen, you know. And he hasn't returned any of my calls or messages since." Nam-Il was annoyed at himself for still harboring jealousy at how close Uke and Chun-Soo were, but he fought not to let it show on his face. "That is strange." "I think what worries me most of all is that he and Sung-Kuk...well, they just don't seem as close as they were earlier in the training camp. Like they've drifted apart or something." Nam-Il remembered the closeness he'd witnessed between Chun-Soo and the younger, smaller Sung-Kuk and nodded his head. "Maybe they had an argument." "Maybe.." Uke didn't seem convinced. "With their kind of temperament, I wouldn't be surprised..but Chun-Soo doesn't usually mope and sulk just because of a small argument." Nam-Il swallowed hard as an unpleasant thought occurred to him. "You don't think..Sang-Chul has anything to do with it?" "I hope not," Uke said bitterly. "I'd hate to think that the old bastard can have *that* much effect on Chun-Soo." Nam-Il hated it too. "Maybe it's something else though," Uke spoke again. "Maybe he's upset..or sad, or whatever-you know, about Chong-Gug's wedding." "Ah." Nam-Il said. "Could be." "When is it, tomorrow?" "Day after." Nam-Il corrected. "June 15th. Matchday, unfortunately, so none of us can attend." Nam-Il wanted to add 'except for Young-Pyo' but quickly refrained. He didn't know if bringing up the subject of Young-Pyo with Uke would be a good idea. For the time being, he decided against it. "Hmm..it could be that-though he's told me several times that he feels okay with it." "Well, 'okay' can mean a lot of things." Uke smiled bitterly and helped himself to some more rice. "Yeah, tell me about it.." June 15th 2003 SkyCity Convention Center, Seoul 15.45 p.m. Song Chong-Gug studied his reflection in the mirror one last time-trying to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming. There he stood, decked head-to-toe in the expensive garments that had been prepared months before, hair swept and styled and sprayed in place, fingers already starting to sweat under the white gloves he wore, his throat convulsing nervously against the stiff collar of his shirt. And just behind him he saw another face, so alike his own but older, calmer, more self-assured. "You ready?" Chong-Hwan's voice asked, his hands carefully settling on his little brother's shoulders so as not to crease the fabric of his tuxedo. "Is it time?" "Almost." Chong-Gug felt his stomach churning in a not-quite-unpleasant way. It's a feeling he's known before, a heady mix of nerves and excitement, like standing in the tunnel at Busan's Asiad stadium with a small child's hand in his and a tall, strong Polish defender just one feet away and thinking to himself, this is it. "This is it.." he said quietly. Chong-Hwan corrected the position of the white rose corsage pinned to Chong-Gug's chest and nodded. "This is it, baby brother.." "Hyung.." Chong-Gug muttered. "I can't thank you enough." "What are older brothers for if not to make their little brothers happy?" Chong-Hwan smiled. "Oh please.." Chong-Gug sighed. "Make me cry later, not now." Chong-Hwan patted his brother's cheek lightly. "You're right. We'd ruin all this makeup on you." "I'm scared, Hyung.." the younger one said. "In a good way, but scared nonetheless." "Of course you are." Chong-Hwan said understandingly. "But everything's going to be okay, Chong-Gug..trust me." "You'll be there, won't you?" "Every step of the way, baby brother." "Good." The door to the dressing room creaked open and in peeked the head of a young man, wearing black, with a headset and a microphone, clutching a clipboard to his chest. "Mr. Song? We're ready to begin.." "We'll be right out." Chong-Hwan replied politely before Chong-Gug could say anything. The organizer nodded his head and closed the door again. "What if I forget what to say?" "Just follow the minister's words, Chong-Gug..slowly and surely." "What if I drop the ring?" "You won't." "What if I slip on the stage?" "I ordered non-slip carpeting." "What if I forget how to dance?" "There's a few hours between the end of the ceremony and the start of the reception. After you change your clothes, I can refresh the lessons a bit.." "You thought of everything, didn't you?" "And then some." Chong-Hwan smiled. "Come now, Chong-Gug..let's not make them wait." Sighing heavily, Chong-Gug drew himself up to his full height and turned away from the mirror. His shiny black leather shoes felt stiff against his feet but he ignored it, willing his mind to attain the same focus that had made him so valued as a player. One thing at a time, he reminded himself. One thing at a time... Seongnam Stadium Away-Team Dressing Room 17.38 p.m. Choi Sung-Kuk checked his shinguards and shoelaces for one last time before standing up off the bench, ready to go out and join his teammates in the tunnel before heading out into the pitch. Seongnam may not have the largest stadium in Korea, seating just under twenty-five thousand, and it wasn't part of the building frenzy that preceded the World Cup, but it still had an intense atmosphere and a near-fanatic crowd of supporters, one that meant away teams needed a strong mentality to get results there. The crowd, however, was the least of Sung-Kuk's worries. He looked back and saw that Chun-Soo was still on the bench, bare-chested as the Ulsan Tigers' head physical trainer carefully strapped on the brace for his right shoulder, making sure it wasn't too loose or too tight. While the trainer did his strap, Chun-Soo just sat there, eyes to the floor, looking ghostly pale and not the least bit happy. Sung-Kuk felt deeply conflicted about how he should deal with all this. Chun-Soo had made himself all but inapproachable for the past few days-not returning calls or messages, and calling his home number resulted in an answering machine. The only thing Sung-Kuk could conclude from that was that Chun-Soo had spent most of the days since their return from Paju and the Argentina loss with Sang-Chul, a thought that made his insides churn. Sang-Chul wasn't here-though his injury had healed enough for him to captain the national team against both Urugay and Argentina, the veteran midfielder was still serving the last days of his lengthy suspension after the Busan incident. And Sung-Kuk had a gut feeling that Sang-Chul had little to do with how uncharacteristically somber Chun-Soo had been for the last few days. Even the others, like Young-Min and Ho-Jin, had noticed the difference. They'd asked Sung-Kuk about it, but he knew little more than they did. And what he knew, he wouldn't share with them. "There..all set to go, Chun-Soo." the trainer finished strapping Chun-Soo's brace, getting off the bench as the player thanked him with a quiet nod. Sung-Kuk waited for Chun-Soo at the door, faintly listening to the sounds of the crowd from beyond the tunnel. A tough match this would be, no doubt about it, against the current league leaders and defending champion. Chun-Soo stood and flexed his shoulder a few times before walking towards the door. "You okay?" Sung-Kuk asked. "Hmm.." "Big match today." "I know." Chun-Soo nodded, as if it meant little to him. "Let's go, they're waiting." He brushed past Sung-Kuk and out the door, leaving his teammate watching his back as he walked towards where the players of both teams had gathered, ready to step out onto the pitch. Sung-Kuk sighed heavily and shook his head. Better wait until the match is over before raising the subject again-he could afford to wait that long. Pohang Steelyard Stadium 20.49 p.m. When Kim Tae-Young returned to the away team's dressing room after a lengthy shower, the only other person left was Kim Nam-Il, who was packing his belongings into the traveling bag he carried to matches. The younger man looked up and gave his teammate a smile as Tae-Young walked in, toweling his hair. "Good game today.." Nam-Il said. "Pretty good, yes." Tae-Young agreed. Their club, the Chunnam Dragons, had just scored a crucial away win at Pohang, at the imposing Steelyard stadium. The win meant staying within the top five in the current K-League standings, something they hoped to maintain going into the lengthy break coming up in July to make way for the World Peace King Cup tournament and other international friendlies on the U-23 level. "I just heard the news.." Nam-Il said as he zipped up his bag. "Ulsan Tigers won at Songnam." "Really?" Tae-Young pulled on a fresh t-shirt over his head. "What's the score?" "Two-zero." Tae-Young shook excess water off his hair. "Chun-Soo?" "No." Nam-Il said. "Dodo and Sung-Kuk." "Hmm..he's getting good, that little one." "Like you said." Nam-Il nodded. "Anyway, that means the gap at the top is closing..we might have a shot at the title after all." Tae-Young smiled as he emptied his locker into his bag. "It's getting interesting, this league.." "Yeah." "And if Sung-Kuk's scoring so well, I guess that's a good sign for the U-23s." "Guess so." Tae-Young recognized the sullen tone in Nam-Il's voice and turned around. "Something wrong?" Nam-Il shrugged. "I don't know..it's just that-well, Uke said he's been worried about Chun-Soo." "Why?" "Said he's been acting real strange since before Argentina. Real closed-off and such, not returning messages or calls since we got back." the tall midfielder explained. "And now, with Chun-Soo not scoring..of course, that's not cause for concern on its own, but you know Uke..he gets these hunches." "And they're right most of the time." Tae-Young added. "Yeah." The senior defender closed his locker and swung his bag over his shoulder. "What does Uke think is bothering Chun-Soo? Does he have a guess?" "Only one." Nam-Il said as he stood up off the bench. "Chong-Gug's wedding." Tae-Young narrowed his eyes slightly. "Ah. It's today, isn't it?" "Earlier today, yes. Reception's tonight." Nam-Il said, then he tilted his head slightly. "Tae-Young..did you know?" "Know what?" "Well..about Chun-Soo and Chong-Gug." It was the older man's turn to shrug. "A little bit." Nam-Il looked slightly confused. Not surprising, considering that to Nam-Il's knowledge nobody had ever explicitly told Tae-Young that Chun-Soo and Chong-Gug had once been lovers, nor was the matter ever discussed between them, and Tae-Young knew that nobody would categorize him as being particularly observant about the flings and flirtations that were happening within the national camp leading to the World Cup. Tae-Young, however, ignored the younger man's gaze and changed the subject. "You're going home?" Nam-Il, shaken off his momentary silence, seemed to remember something. "Ahh..no. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about." "What is it?" "I'm going to Gyurie-spend the weekend at Uke's. He told me to ask you if you'd like to come over and have dinner tonight." Nam-Il looked hopeful, very hopeful in fact, and Tae-Young knew it was because he'd sorely missed spending time with his older teammate, the way they used to do before the whole mess with Young-Pyo's wedding came about. Tae-Young had gradually allowed both Nam-Il and Uke back into his life, convinced that letting them do so would help ease their mind as well, but the group chemistry, especially the one between him and Nam-Il, wasn't quite back to where it was before Young-Pyo left. Most of it was because Tae-Young wanted Nam-Il to spend as much time as he could with Uke, as the whole Young-Pyo situation had also done their relationship a bit of damage. Evidently, both Uke and Nam-Il felt like it was time for Tae-Young to feature more in their lives again, and the older man was flattered that they felt that way. So it was with a heavy heart that he smiled at Nam-Il and slowly shook his head. "Can't. I'm sorry..got some things that I need to do back at Kwangnyang." Nam-Il didn't bother to hide his disappointment-an expression, Tae-Young thought, which made his rather weathered, rugged face look endearingly childlike. The lips that would normally curl in his trademark smirk now gave a slight pout, one Tae-Young quickly remedied by leaning in close and kissing them. Nam-Il gasped softly, but didn't shy away from the kiss. It was their first in a long, long time..and for a while Tae-Young tasted what he knew he'd been sorely missing also. "You go be with Uke.." the older man whispered and tapped an index finger against Nam-Il's nose. "Don't worry..if I get lonely, I'll know who to call." Finally Nam-Il smiled, and hefted his bag onto a shoulder. "Take care, then.." "You too." After the younger man left the dressing room, Tae-Young stared after the empty doorway for a few long moments before sighing heavily and walking out after his teammate. Yes, he had some things he needed to back at Kwangnyang. He had to do someone an important favor, and perhaps regain something for himself in the process. SkyCity Convention Center 20.05 p.m. Song Chong-Hwan allowed himself a self-satisfied smile as he leaned back in his chair, observing the proceedings of the wedding reception from the table where he sat with his wife, Koh Ji-Yeon. They had just finished their dinner, a five-course banquet by a caterer specializing in French and Korean fusion, and he couldn't have asked for a better meal to highlight such a beautiful occasion. There was a great relief in his heart, too, after months of hectic planning, knowing that everything had gone off without a hitch. Secretly, he was thankful he only had *one* little brother. Beside him, Ji-Yeon leaned against his shoulder and smiled. "You seem very pleased with yourself.." He patted her hand. "Shouldn't I be?" "You're not considering a career change, are you? Wedding planner?" He laughed softly. "No, don't worry..the only reason I did this one is because it's for Chong-Gug." Ji-Yeon looked up at her husband and stroked his cheek. "Chong-Gug is the luckiest little brother in the world.." "Yeah, well..he's hard not to love." "I agree." Ji-Yeon nodded. "And your new sister-in-law seems to agree, as well." Chong-Hwan glanced over to the main table, where his newlywed brother and sister-in-law sat. The reception was being held in SkyCity's Grand Ballroom, a cavernous, lavishly-decorated space one floor below the main convention hall where the nuptials had taken place earlier that afternoon. The bride and groom sat flanked by their parents at a long table set on a raised platform in one end of the ballroom, before a stunning backdrop of satiny, floor-to-ceiling white curtains and tall, gilded latticework pergolas festooned with white roses. The guests were seated gala-dinner style, at circular tables, also draped in white with candles and rose bouquets, awash with light from ten crystal chandeliers hanging from at even intervals. The rococco ceiling was painted with a heavenly vista of blue skies and white clouds, from behind which peeked angels and cherubs playing a host of classical instruments. The real music, however, came from the twelve-piece orchestra seated just to the right of the main table, augmented by a small band. Chong-Hwan and the bride's siblings had combined their efforts to design the space in such a way that the press would still have access but without obstructing the guests or causing them any inconvenience. The camera crews and journalists had an area all to their own to the left of the small stage with the main table, with security present in strong numbers, carefully observing the proceedings. If Chong-Gug even noticed any of the grandeur surrounding him he surely wasn't showing it-his eyes were almost permanently fixed on his bride, leaning in to exchange words with her, smiling almost constantly, pointing out something in the crowd, holding her hand, commenting on something she was wearing, or admiring the wedding band that now graced their fingers. Chong-Hwan smiled, thinking that he'd never seen his baby brother happier in all his life, and he took great pride in the fact that he had contributed to that happiness. Jung-Ah looked stunning, he had to admit, in her shimmery peppermint-silver dress, hair swept back into a neat bun decorated with silvery spiral ornaments. Chong-Gug looked even better in his silvery-gray suit than he did on the first fitting, and instead of the nervous uncertainty he'd worn on that day, it was all smiles and confidence this time around. And that confidence did not fade even when the announcer politely requested them to take the floor for their first dance, to begin the night's entertainments. With the same poise and grace he displayed on the football pitch, Chong-Hwan saw his little brother lead his bride onto the floor, where the arrangement of the tables had left a considerable open space on the deep burgundy carpet. Soon the lights dimmed and the band and orchestra began playing the song Chong-Gug and Jung-Ah had selected, a sweet love ballad that first became popular when they were dating each other, back at Yonsei University. Ji-Yeon laced her fingers through Chong-Hwan's and rested her head against his shoulder. "He looks very happy, doesn't he?" "Yes, he does.." "I don't think I've ever seen him happier." she said. "It won't be easy for them, though. Moving to the Netherlands and all-I mean, she's so young.." "I know." Chong-Hwan said. It was true, Jung-Ah was barely twenty, and soon she would be leaving everything she knew behind to follow her husband's career in a foreign land. "We'll do our best to help them, won't we?" He felt his wife squeezing his hand. "We will." As the newlyweds danced, the announcer also beckoned other couples to take the floor. First to do so was Lee Young-Pyo, a teammate and close friend of Chong-Gug's, whose own wedding was scarcely a week ago. He and his petite wife were soon dancing at the periphery, leaving the center spotlight to the bride and groom. The next couple to join the dance was another teammate of Chong-Gug's, the tall Seol Ki-Hyeon, who had only recently married his longtime girlfriend. Chong-Hwan saw Seol's wife leave their toddler son in the hands of Park Ji-Sung, who had come to the occasion dateless, and who seemed to be more than happy to babysit the young boy while his parents danced. Chong-Hwan knew that the three newly married couples planned to have their honeymoon together, the plans for which had been carefully arranged by their wives, Chong-Gug had told him. Chong-Hwan could only hope that the honeymoon went smoothly, too, knowing the busy schedule that awaited his brother on his return. Knowing that his task was well and truly done, Chong-Hwan stood up and extended his hand to his wife. "Shall we?" Smiling, she took it and allowed him to pull her gracefully out of her seat. "I thought you'd never ask.." Kwangnyang 22.45 p.m. Chun-Soo stared long and hard at the near-featureless door in front of him, distinguished from the others only by the small numbered card insert on the wall beside it. The hour was late, and his body sagged heavily against the wall, a mixture of emotional fatigue and physical exhaustion. His teammates had wanted to hang around Seoul and celebrate their victory against Seongnam but he'd declined. First of all he was in no mood to celebrate anything, and secondly the victory might have been his team's, but not his. He was barely present during that match, dutifully herding or stealing balls or passing it over to better-situated teammates but never asserting himself, never pushing forward with the aggressive tenacity that was expected of him. He just couldn't. He knew the coach had refrained from stiffly dressing him down after match because they'd won it, they'd won against the league leaders and it was all that mattered and his lethargy would be pardoned this time around but not in the future. It wasn't his win. It was Sung-Kuk's and Dodo's and the rest of the Ulsan Tigers', but not his. Not Lee Chun-Soo's. He knew Sung-Kuk was worried about him, was angry with him for not returning calls or messages and Chun-Soo saw the carefully-concealed accusation in his friend's eyes when he'd declined the offer to join the others earlier that evening. Sung-Kuk thought he was going to drive straight back to Ulsan and crawl into Sang-Chul's bed. Well, for once Chun-Soo didn't bother to defend himself, didn't offer any excuses. He allowed Sung-Kuk his thoughts, his accusations, his suspicions. He felt like he deserved it. But the only thing he wanted to crawl into right now was a hole in the ground and never come out. Perhaps he had no reason for being so miserable, he was just overreacting, letting the melancholy take over him instead of the alcohol he'd strongly considered. And yet there he was, ready to take in even more of an emotional beating, ready to succumb to days of repression and restraint and just let it all out in one big, ugly, tidal wave of misplaced angst. And here, of all fucking places. Chun-Soo rang the bell once, twice, and waited. He heard muffled footsteps, heard the locks being undone, and when the door finally opened he nearly fell right through, his tired legs barely supporting his weight. "There you are..I was starting to wonder when you were gonna show up." It was a line Sang-Chul often used, welcoming Chun-Soo into his posh apartment suite, the niceties which preceded the brutality, giving him just enough time to take off his jacket or kick off his shoes before dragging him into the bedroom and fucking him raw. "Sorry," he said, a word he'd tried to use as sparingly as possible with Sang-Chul. "It's okay. Please, come in.." Sang-Chul would never have said that. Sang-Chul would never forgive him even the slightest of violations, the tiniest bit of insolence, he always punished Chun-Soo as he saw fit and good whore that he was, Chun-Soo never objected. "I..I hope I'm not giving you too much trouble." Chun-Soo said before the door was even closed behind them. "Not at all," the voice was not Sang-Chul's, not silky with seduction nor thick with innuendo. It was ragged yet sincere, unpolished and warm, without pretense. "I made some tea for you..there, in the kitchen." As Chun-Soo bent down to take off his sneakers he felt a hand take hold of the bag strap on his right shoulder and remove it, taking the weight off him in one swift movement. A little startled, he straightened up. "Tae-Young, you don't have to-" "I'll just put this in the living room.." the older man said. "Better give that shoulder of yours a rest." Chun-Soo stared after him, watched as the senior player deposited his heavy bag on the armchair in the apartment's living area and returned to the kitchen, still wearing the tender-hearted smile on his face. "Here, have a drink.." he said as he poured the tea he'd prepared into two cups. He even stirred in some sugar before handing one of the cups to Chun-Soo, who accepted it awkwardly, still a little dumbstruck. "Ahh..thank you," he said as he took a careful sip, letting the heat of the ceramic warm his hands. "Heard you won today.." Tae-Young said. "Congratulations." Chun-Soo offered a shrug. "I had little to do with it." "Well, Seongnam's loss is our gain, of course." Tae-Young took a sip of tea himself. "Have you eaten? I can fix something up for you, if you'd like.." "Uh..no. I mean, no thanks-you don't have to." Chun-Soo said quickly. "I think I've troubled you enough today-you know, this being so sudden and all.." "Don't worry about it." Tae-Young said, looking like he meant every word and he probably did. Chun-Soo detected no falseness in him, no deception. And he was no longer the stoic, detached Kim Tae-Young he'd spoken to just a few days earlier back in Paju. Was this the real Kim Tae-Young then, the one Uke and Nam-Il were so fond of? As they stood in the kitchen drinking their tea Chun-Soo studied the apartment. It wasn't flashy like Sang-Chul's, nor was it the animal den that often characterized the dwellings of younger players. It was well-kept and understated, no display cases, no obvious touting or showing off on behalf of the resident's long and fruitful career. Personal mementos were also scarce, save for a few framed pictures setting on the tall shelf unit that separated the kitchen area from the living room. What few pictures there were seemed dominated by the images of two children, a boy and a girl, from infancy to toddler to pre-school, posing alone or with each other, carried on Tae-Young's shoulders, in his arms, or with a woman Chun-Soo guessed was their mother, the ex-wife, divorced now three years or so but a presence still. What was notably missing from the display was a picture of all four of them *together*, as a family, a unit, and there seemed to be no effort to conceal that fact. "Your kids?" he asked. "Yeah.." Tae-Young said. There was a quiet sadness in his voice, a proud but distant father. "Yoo-Hyoun, my son, he's four and a half now, I think..his sister Da-Hyoun's just turned three." He said this with a bit of difficulty, as if his children's age was something that silently gutted him, the years that were passing by without his presence, the fear of being forgotten or being shut off into an unsignificant corner of their young minds along with other casual acquaintances. Chun-Soo put his cup down and patted his hands against his neck, letting the warmth seep through. He knew he looked like shit-dark circles under his eyes and such. Sleep had become elusive the last few days, and he knew Tae-Young was quietly assessing his condition also, bruises on his wrists and so forth. "I've already rewinded the tape.." the older man said, gesturing at the living room area where the big-screen TV was. "All you have to do is play it." "Thanks.." Chun-Soo nodded, but he didn't move. "Why am I doing this again?" Tae-Young's response was a smile that wasn't one of pity, or sympathy. It was one of understanding. "Because this is the only way you can let go." "Right.." Chun-Soo said. "So, with permission from the host, allow me to go there and make a complete fool out of myself." Tae-Young patted his shoulder. "Go ahead.." Chun-Soo went to the living room area, where he fell into the plushly upholstered couch facing the TV set. On the low coffee table in front of him were a stack of magazines, a variety of remote controls, and the empty slipcase of a Sony VHS 180-minute tape, torn shrinkwrap still twisted about it. He picked up the remote for the TV and turned it on, noticing that the VCR was already on standby. With his other hand he picked up the VCR remote and pressed the play button, then he leaned back and waited. The first images came up, recorded earlier that day, a perky female reported dressed in pink, of all things, holding up a microphone as behind her people bustled about, the woman's smiling lips glossed to match her dress. "Annyeonghaseo..Lee Hya-Nae here, reporting for K-TV live from SkyCity Convention Center in Seoul," she said to the camera with a smile. "We are about to begin our live and exclusive coverage of the wedding of football superstar Song Chong-Gug and Kim Jung-Ah, with the nuptials set to take place shortly.." Just like that, he buried his face in his hands and started crying. Tae-Young watched the scene unfold from the kitchen, giving Chun-Soo a bit of privacy, stirring the spoon in the teacup as he saw the younger man's shoulder heave and fall and he cried into his hands, sobbing into them as his eyes stared at the monitor, peering through his damp fingers. Tae-Young knew how he felt-he knew *exactly* how he felt, and that was the reason why Chun-Soo was here, why he chose to ask this favor of Tae-Young and not of anyone else. It had started with a phone call early that morning, just as he was about to leave for the training grounds. It was a simple enough request, asking him if he could tape Chong-Gug's wedding so that Chun-Soo could come over and watch it later that night. Tae-Young agreed to the request without question, without asking why, because he already knew. He knew why Chun-Soo needed to watch the tape, and he knew why he was the one asked to record it, why Chun-Soo wanted to watch it *here*, in his presence. Unlike Tae-Young, who decided to hide his pain, shut it off and pretend he was okay when Young-Pyo left him and betrayed him, Chun-Soo hid nothing, as he never did. He cried as shamelessly now, with only one soul witnessing, as he had with sixty thousand people in the crowd and millions more watching at home, scarcely a year ago. He lived out his emotions in public, from jubilation to disappointment to scathing autobiography and outrageous hairstyles. But his private heartbreaks were just that, private. On the screen, the wedding ceremony was well under way, with the bride being escorted down the aisle by her father. She was a very pretty girl, high-cheekboned and fair-skinned, wearing a white, cap-sleeved wedding dress layered over with silk brocade and lace, the tiara on her head anchoring a veil of delicate, embroidered fabric. The path she walked through with her father was bordered by ribbons of white silk, held aloft by pillars of golden urns containing white roses, and a fog of dry ice obscured their feet. Tae-Young had to admit that whoever had planned Chong-Gug's wedding had pulled out all the stops, with a flair for theatrics on top of that. The lights elsewhere in the room were dimmed, and a soft spotlight bathed the bride and her father as two little girls threw white rose petals into the air, walkig just in front of them. The music was the familiar wedding march, played by a full orchestra, and the bride was all smiles as she ascended the steps that took her to the stage, where the minister and the groom waited at the dais. The groom looked very smart in a classic tuxedo, a black longcoat worn over a white shirt and vest, with a silver tie and a tight, nervous smile. Tae-Young saw Chun-Soo twisting his lips as the cameras focused on Chong-Gug's face, allowing himself a short gasp for air before starting to cry again, just as Chong-Gug took his bride's hand in his and the music faded, the guests taking their seats again in a low rustling murmur. The happier Chong-Gug looked, the harder Chun-Soo cried. Tae-Young felt a painful knot in his chest as he thought of Young-Pyo, as he thought of the wedding he'd decided not to watch with his own eyes, lest he lose control of himself. He thought of Uke and Nam-Il, who had been there, thought of how difficult it must have been for them, for Uke, especially, how it inevitably made them think of their own uncertain future, of whether they even had one. For Chun-Soo, who had given up on any sort of future with Chong-Gug long ago, it was just as painful. Tae-Young hadn't known about Chun-Soo and Chong-Gug, hadn't known it until this morning, until Chun-Soo's phone call. As soon as Chun-Soo made his request Tae-Young instantly knew why, and now he knew why Chun-Soo had told him 'I know your kind of pain' when they last spoke to each other in Paju. It was true, Chun-Soo *did* know his pain. Knew it to the letter. But he'd never imagined just how much, how deeply Chun-Soo truly felt for Chong-Gug until this moment. As the minister read the opening passages of the sacrament Chun-Soo managed to calm himself down, allowing his body to slump back against the couch, looking like he weighed ten times what his slight frame suggested, arms folded in front of his chest. He made no effort to wipe his tears away and why should he-nobody, and certainly not Tae-Young, would berate him for his reactions. "He sure looks happy, doesn't he?" Chun-Soo said. Recognizing that his involvement was now welcome, Tae-Young walked over from the kitchen and stood just beside the couch. "He sure does..lovely girl, too." "Yes, lovely.." Chun-Soo said, and Tae-Young detected no sarcasm in his voice, just a resigned acknowledgement. "Jung-Ah. That's her name. Kim Jung-Ah." "Hmm.." Tae-Young moved to take a seat beside Chun-Soo. Sensing no objection from the younger man, he made himself comfortable and leaned back against the cushions. "They met at Yonsei, I assume?" "Yeah. Three years ago, I think." Chun-Soo said, then smiled thinly. "While I was still at BooPyung, trying to steal Uke's place in the football team-and smooching his girlfriends." Tae-Young snorted-how typically highschool-like, where status seemed defined by the girl hanging off your arm and your place in the sports team or the taekwondo club or whatever. Superficial, yes, but carefree also, more innocent, unconcerned with back alley politics and marital intrigue and divorce papers and custody rights. "She looks..young." he commented. "Twenty." Chun-Soo said. "Bright girl, too-got into university through an acceleration program or some shit," "Oh." They were preparing to take their vows now, and Tae-Young felt a shift in Chun-Soo's posture, an intake of breath, and he discreetly glanced over to see the younger man's face, tear-stained but steely now, bracing himself for something he didn't even know yet, what force of emotion was going to come over him. The camera jostled slightly, looking for a better position to capture the faces, losing focus and then regaining it, just as Chong-Gug began saying his vows, repeating after the minister, and he was speaking in a soft but clear voice, beautiful and calmly handsome but still a boy, to Tae-Young's eyes, a young man and an even younger woman. He wondered about the challenges they'd face, the world that began just outside the doors of the building, beyond the champagne air and flowers. Chun-Soo didn't cry anymore. He stared and watched and curled his lips into a thin line that matched his eyes, an anguished gesture determined not to be bitter. When he heard Chong-Gug's voice he half-closed his eyes and tilted his head, taking it in, word for word, to have and to hold from here onto eternity, till death do us part, measuring every syllable and branding it into his mind, the final nail in the coffin, the death of something he wasn't sure he mourned. Tae-Young knew the feeling. It was all rather anticlimactic, honestly-by the time the bride finished her vows you knew what was going to happen and Chun-Soo seemed to ease a little, a droop in his shoulders, and the soft hush that fell over the room, tangible even through the TV screen, as the newlyweds looked at each other and smiled and the minister pronounced them, the magic words, man and wife. The kiss was short and sweet and Chun-Soo did not react to that, not visibly at least. He had a half-smile on his lips now, relieved and saddened and nostalgic. Chong-Gug looked positively jubilant and so did his wife, and they turned and bowed to his parents and then turned the other direction to bow to hers and the crowd rose and applauded and the music played, the full orchestra, what a grandiose statement that was. They did the walk, of course, the slow procession down the aisle, nodding left and right, seemingly floating now, their feet obscured by the white cloud of dry ice. They smiled and laughed and held hands and bowed their heads to the well-wishers, relieved beyond all things, and the cameras followed them, panning and zooming and switching over to other positions, and as the couple disappeared beyond the grand doors of the wedding hall Chun-Soo pointed the remote at the VCR and stopped the tape. He let the device clatter onto the tabletop and sagged back, gazing up at the ceiling. He didn't seem to want to say anything and Tae-Young didn't push him to-he got up and went back to the kitchen to make dinner. They ate their soup and noodles in silence, not a tense one but a subdued quiet, no rush to start summarizing their experiences in eloquent words. Tae-Young opened a tin of lychee for dessert and they ate out of the can, pretty much, forking the white bulbous fruit, packed in water, and Chun-Soo didn't say anything until they'd cleared the dishes and put them in the sink. "Did you.." he began. "Young-Pyo's wedding. Did you see?" "I saw pictures." Tae-Young dried his hands with a paper towel. "That was enough." "He wore gold." "Yes." "And you're sitting there thinking, how the heck did he let his mother talk him into that one?" Tae-Young smiled, an easy smile, and he took his seat across from Chun-Soo. "It wasn't that bad." "No, it wasn't." Chun-Soo. "So, how did you..I mean, what's it-you know, feel like?" "It hurt." Tae-Young said truthfully. "This was after you talked to me, remember? I ate the cake and saw the pictures the next day. It hurt." "It's not loss." Chun-Soo shook his head. "No." "It's not loss. I felt it just now. Not loss, or grief, or jealousy," he continued. "It's more like, 'what about me' sort of. What now, what do I do, where does it leave me." Tae-Young nodded slowly. "I feel.." and his throat constricted slightly. "..left behind." "Left in the dust." Tae-Young said. "Everybody's moving on-they're finding love, finding life. Sailing away into the sunset. I'm a washed-up whore drying on the sands." Chun-Soo said. "And I don't know if I can blame anyone else but me." "You want some more tea?" "I considered getting smashed, you know, before coming here. Piss-ass drunk. I almost raided my liquor cabinet." Tae-Young poured the tea and stirred in the sugar. "You have a liquor cabinet?" "They had fish at the reception, you know? Poached fillet or whatever, fancy-schmancy named." "How do you know?" "Everybody knows. They printed the banquet menu in the newspapers. The wedding's so fucking big even the food makes news. Gastronomical report-live from the kitchen." Tae-Young did a little eye-rolling and who wouldn't. "Fish..that would mean white wine, wouldn't it?" "White wine, usually." "I have those in the house-I'm thinking I should just drive up to Seoul and let them have my stash. Sauvignon-Blanc 1997, three bottles of it. I wanted to drink myself silly but I didn't." Chun-Soo drank his tea and set it down with a clink. "The temptation was there, and I had the bottle in my hands." "But you didn't." "I didn't," he shook his head and gave Tae-Young a wry smile. "Maybe that's why I'm here-so you can help protect the interests of the national team and this country's adolescent female hearts by ensuring that I don't drink myself to death." "Smartass." Tae-Young muttered over the rim of his cup. "I should wait five more years or so and sell them-sell the whole goddamn lot. Buy myself a new car." "You have that much?" "I have a small store's worth. All good stuff." Chun-Soo said, not the least bit of pride in his voice. "You sound like you don't even want them." "I don't. They were given to me." Chun-Soo said. "A gift, from someone who wants to to remind me that I have nobody to share them with, so I'll keep crawling back to him no matter what." Tae-Young was thinking hard behind his eyes now. He wasn't confused with the sentence, he understood it but he was trying to dig deeper, get into the details, who what why where when. "Is someone waiting for you at home, Chun-Soo?" he asked finally. "No.." Chun-Soo shook his head, his voice losing its edge. "It's better that way.." He was back in that territory now, somewhere between self-loathing and needy, longing for something but deathly afraid of the consequences. "Uke's been worried about you.." Tae-Young said as he refilled their teacups. "I know." Chun-Soo said. "But this isn't, you know, something I can share with him." "But you can share it with me." "For obvious reasons." "Yes, for obvious reasons." Tae-Young repeated. "But this isn't just about Chong-Gug, is it? It's about you." Chun-Soo took his tea and spooned his own sugar this time around. "I didn't know it until I watched the tape. It helped, of course..it hurt like hell and my eyes are going to be swollen for days but it helped, somehow." "But not completely." "No." Chun-Soo drank the tea and felt the liquid heat down his throat. "You're right. It's not about Chong-Gug, it's about me. I'm feeling like shit and I don't know why." "You don't?" "I have vague ideas. They all add up somehow. Personal tragedies, my ass." Chun-Soo rested his chin on his hand. "When something good ends not because of what you did, but what you *are*, then what am I supposed to do?" "You're asking me?" "Should I ask the tea leaves?" he swirled his cup. "My mother believes that shit, not me." Tae-Young chuckled. "He was everything to me." Chun-Soo said. "Everything. He shouldn't have been, of course..but he was anyway." "I'm not surprised.." Tae-Young leaned back in his chair. "People like you..live hard, play hard, love hard..fall hard, too." "We only live once." Chun-Soo shrugged. "I was too careful," Tae-Young said. "Too scared. I was waiting for things to go wrong even when they had no reason to. He told me this." "Young-Pyo?" "Yes, Young-Pyo.." the name with the heavy sigh, it was an entity, not a name anymore. Not to Tae-Young, at least. "He said I kept going back and beating myself up for past mistakes..I didn't allow myself to think that I had a future. And he was right.." Chun-Soo said nothing. "I've done some pretty bad things in the past-some worse than others. And I just can't forgive myself for some strange reason.." Tae-Young shook his head. "I didn't let myself feel happy because I thought I didn't deserve to be. When Young-Pyo left I was tempted to think it was another form of punishment. But it wasn't." Chun-Soo's thoughts wandered off to Sung-Kuk, wherever he was, angry or worried or whatever, frustrated and rightfully so. He thought of the unanswered messages, he thought of the way Sung-Kuk had looked at him all day-wanting to get close but not making the effort because he feared the rejection he saw in Chun-Soo's eyes. "I thought I was being selfless-but it was the exact opposite. It was me, me, me all the way. It drove him crazy..it drove him away." Tae-Young said. "Even when you hate yourself, you can still be an egomaniac." "Hmm.." "I thought I was being penitent..but I was just being silly." "And this is why?" "He left. You know, independent of everything else, like not telling Uke and all that shit. That's why he left me. Not because I didn't give him enough..but because I didn't *take* enough. Because I didn't absorb it. His love was wasted on me." Chun-Soo was thinking of Chong-Gug now, of the words he's said that afternoon, the ones that had been said with the sincerest sort of kindness but nevertheless had driven Chun-Soo insane for the last few days. It wasn't Chong-Gug's fault, of course..he was merely putting to words the things Chun-Soo already knew. A murky feeling inside his soul, the one that plagued him with doubt over whether anyone deserved to be subjected to his brand of nonsense, put through the arduous experience of trying to love him. But really, was that his decision to make? "You're staying, aren't you?" The question jarred him out of his thoughts. "Staying? Here, you mean.." "Of course, here." Tae-Young said. "Don't tell me you're going to drive back to Ulsan at this hour, in the state you're in.." "I'm fine." "Bullshit. The minute you came in that door, I knew." He smiled. "Can't lie to you, can I?" "Not this day." "You don't mind if I stay?" Tae-Young leaned forward on the table and regarded him seriously. "I think it would be best..both for my peace of mind, as well as the interests of the national team and the country's adolescent female hearts." Chun-Soo laughed-his first real laugh in days and he felt it in his facial muscles, an aching sort of relief. "Should I take the couch?" "Take the bed." "It's big enough for two?" "Big enough for three, even..trust me." Tae-Young said, smiling inwardly at some pleasant memory. Now, Chun-Soo wasn't the type of person to be easily shocked and this didn't quite shock him but it was something he hadn't thought of before. "They come here often?" "Nam-Il's here at least once a week..though he hasn't been here since we came back from Paju. I send him up to be with Uke in Gyurie as much as he can." Tae-Young explained. "They need their time together." "They must miss you.." "I know they do. Uke's been telling me, 'get this spoilt monkey off me for just a day, won't you? He's emptied my fridge again and won't do his own laundry'-yes, that's what he said." Chun-Soo was amused by all this and his smile showed it. "He's joking, of course.." "Of course. He loves Nam-Il to bits and pieces but that was his way of telling me, you know, that they want me there, too." "So why aren't you there?" "I have things I need to sort out on my own." Tae-Young slowly rose off his chair. "My head, mostly." "Oh, so you're getting a new haircut?" Chun-Soo asked innocently. Tae-Young narrowed his eyes. "Do I look that desperate?" "Well.." "A new dye job." "Ah." Chun-Soo nodded. "Of course. I suppose you won't want my advice on that." Tae-Young snickered as he walked over to Chun-Soo's side of the table. "Trust me, no self-respecting homosexual would ever go to *you* for that sort of advice." Chun-Soo laughed again. "Besides, red white and blue doesn't quite suit my skin tone." Tae-Young said as his fingers mussed Chun-Soo's hair, which was dark brown at the moment, thank the blessed heavens. "Didn't suit you that well, either." "Of course it didn't. I was aiming for shock value." Chun-Soo batted his eyes. "Hey, Tae-Young.." "What?" Chun-Soo stood up and felt Tae-Young's hand slide down his face and onto his shoulder. The left one, the good one. "Thank you..for tonight. For everything." "It's nothing," Tae-Young assured him. "I was just wondering.." Chun-Soo looked up into the older man's eyes inquiringly. "Any chance that you wanna fuck?" Tae-Young hardly showed any surprise. He smiled in genuine amusement rather than bewilderment. "Is that an offer?" "Well, seeing as we're going to sleep in the same bed anyway.." Chun-Soo reasoned. "I don't know..it's been a long day, I'm an opportunistic whore, you know the story." "I see.." Tae-Young took one of Chun-Soo's hands in his and squeezed lightly. "So what is this, a show of gratitude?" "If you want to look at it that way, it's fine with me." "Well, I don't want to look at it that way." "No?" "No." Tae-Young's hands clasped the sides of Chun-Soo's face. "Look at it as two friends, sharing a moment, taking each other's minds off what's been troubling them." "I like that." "So do I." They did it with an aimless sort of pace, stopping and starting and stopping again, not because either of them were hesitant but because they didn't feel dictated to finish anything-this was free of demands, free of attachments. Chun-Soo found it extremely liberating, to be able to kiss and grope around passionately for five minutes straight and then spend the next ten just lying around the spacious mattress, doing small talk about the weather and Chun-Soo's yellow Hyundai Coupe and the rising price of gasoline. Chun-Soo had never heard anything concerning Tae-Young's ability in bed so he went in there with no expectations. Not that it mattered-even if he'd gone in there with the highest of expectations he doubted he would've been disappointed. Tae-Young knew what he was doing, there was an easy flow about him, a straightforward honesty Chun-Soo never got from Sang-Chul. He was powerful but subtle, and even through all the stops and starts Chun-Soo never doubted that Tae-Young would fuck him in the end. They talked about football, about their clubs and the national team and the loss against Argentina-all that with Tae-Young's finger inside him and Chun-Soo's hand on his wrist, not quite guiding but just there, a presence, and Tae-Young fingered him lazily while he talked. Chun-Soo felt relaxed-lustful and yet relaxed, something he'd never felt before, the sense that he could let his mind drift away from the act and not feel the least bit guilty-it was meant to be a drifting sort of affair. Tae-Young saw the marks, of course-saw them and said nothing. He saw the dark bruises on his hips and the bites on his shoulders and the raw flesh of his wrists but said nothing. Chun-Soo was glad for this-he didn't want to have to explain, didn't want to have to say Sang-Chul's name and taint the experience. Even if he didn't have to say the name it still would've spoilt it-he wanted this to be completely free of a third party, even in passing thought. "Shoulder okay?" "Mm-hmm.." "I thought you said something about surgery." "Maybe later. It's an off-and-on thing, the shoulder." "Wouldn't surgery fix it?" "Not in the middle of a season." Chun-Soo enjoyed the kisses most of all, the full-bodied tangle of moistened parts. Tae-Young had the sort of kiss that could make straight men think twice, though who was he to say that. "Isn't your birthday coming up shortly?" "Next month." "I'll get you something." Chun-Soo rolled over onto his stomach and felt the naked press against his back, the heat, and when Tae-Young slowly pushed inside him he felt well-prepared and relaxed, resting his head sideways on the pillow as the older man kissed the back of his neck. It was a slow fuck, not necessarily a gentle one but it was slow and easy, like a stroll down the park on a breezy afternoon, it didn't have a mindblowing sort of energy but he would look back at it and think it was one of the better fucks he'd ever had in his life. When it was over he felt the ache spread to every bone in his body but it felt good somehow, and Tae-Young drew him into an embrace and pulled up the blankets over them with the other hand. They said nothing, looking at each other and smiling and trading small kisses on the face and Chun-Soo finally rested his head on the crook of the older man's shoulder, exhausted and weary but slightly less pessimistic now, content to save the questions for another day. He fell asleep thinking not of Chong-Gug but of someone else, a hope for his future instead of a regret of his past.
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