| TITLE : Peninsula
Diaries 10 - A Night in the Village RATING : R to NC-17 AUTHOR : Arlyn Jayde EMAIL : PAIRING : Kim Nam-Il, Park Ji-Sung, Choi Tae-Uk, Kim Tae-Young ARCHIVE : Football Fiction Archive - Anyone else ask first DISCLAIMER : Don't own them, don't know them, don't sue me. AUTHOR'S NOTES : Apparently Kim Nam-Il wasn't all that bummed about not making the Asian Games squad, since he took a trip to New Zealand in late September through early October to complete a photo shoot as well as take a much-needed vacation. He calls the experience very 'refreshing'. I'll bet... Very recent reports indicate that PSV Eindhoven is very keen on Park Ji-Sung, with Hiddink confirming a trip to South Korea in November to hold talks with Park and his agent (the same agent who handles Song Chong-Gug). Where does Nam-Il fit into this picture? I'm not sure. I just hope Meneer Hiddink hasn't forgotten about his other favourite boy... In this part, I'm just trying to be mushy, let my manic obsession about detail run rampant, and make it clear that I don't think very much of Lee Dong-Gook.
Busan Athlete's Village "If anyone finds out you're here, we're both dead."
The words are a murmur spoken against my bare chest, where Uke's head is pillowed snugly. I smile and run my fingers through his hair, pausing to kiss his forehead.
"I didn't know visiting my friends in the athlete's village was illegal..."
"No, but being in bed naked with one of your national team players probably is." he says deadpan.
I laugh softly and hold him tighter against me. The room he shares with Young-Pyo has two single beds instead of one large bed, which limits our movements quite a bit, but all the more reason to have him closer to me.
"Where is Young-Pyo, anyway?"
"Went out." Uke says. "Says he wanted to take a walk down the plaza, get some fresh air or something."
"They're having a concert at the cultural stage right now, I think."
"Yeah, and most of the others are down there too..." Uke says. "Or at the video game parlour. This is Saturday night, anyway...and it's our night off."
"Don't you want to go out?"
He shakes his head slowly. "Too tired. Tonight's match was pretty exhausting."
"You scored a beautiful goal, too...I'm real proud of you."
He looks up at me and frowns. "Nam-Il, if you go mushy on me I swear I will bash your head in with my medal."
"What medal?"
"The gold medal I'm going to win, stupid."
"Ahh...so sure of it now, aren't you?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
"Uke, you're starting to sound alarmingly like Chun-Soo."
"Everybody's starting to sound alarmingly like Chun-Soo..." Uke says. "...well, except Chun-Soo himself."
"Really?"
Uke nods. "You don't see it on the pitch, of course...still same old Chun-Soo, spirited and with a hunger for goals...and still making a comment or two to the press about how confident he is of our chances, but other than that..."
"What?"
"Utter silence." he says, his face all seriousness. "Once we leave the stadium and go back here, he shuts himself down. Doesn't go out much, stays quiet during meals, doesn't talk much to anybody."
I furrow my brows at this. It doesn't sound like Chun-Soo at all. "Is he...okay?"
"I tried to talk with him during breakfast yesterday." Uke rests his chin on my chest. "Says he's okay, he just wants to stay focused and all..."
"Hmmm..."
"Can't really argue with him because everyone thinks he'll do much better this way, you know...scratch one potential troublemaker off the list."
I frown at him. "Is that how you feel, Uke?"
"Hell, no." Uke says. "I'm worried about him, honestly. But most of the others are glad that he's not mouthing off as much as he used to...or they're too focused on the tournament to care."
"Who's his roommate?"
"Choi Song-Gook. You know, the kid from Korea University. I don't think Chun-Soo talks much to him, either."
For a while I try to think about what might be causing Chun-Soo's sudden change of attitude. While I can't argue with the fact that his quietness will limit the chances of another media blowup caused by his comments, it still alarms me.
"This has been going on for a while, anyway..." Uke says, interrupting my thoughts. "At least ever since we got into national training camp."
Or ever since Chong-Gug left, I think to myself.
"Nam-Il?"
"Huh-what?"
"Do you know something I don't know?"
His eyes are looking at me, again, the way they always do, the solemn inquiry that makes me feel more naked than I already am. Can I tell him now?
"Maybe." I say. "I'm not sure if it's the real reason behind it, though."
"That's okay...you don't have to tell me." he smiles sweetly, then rests his head on my chest again. "Why don't you tell me about New Zealand instead?"
"Cold." I deadpan. "Very, very cold. Especially when I went to this ski resort in the South Island. Snow was everywhere..."
"Colder than our winters?"
"Yes, colder." I say as I start running my fingers through his hair again. "But it's a very peaceful place. Very beautiful."
"Describe it to me." he murmurs against my chest.
"Well, there's lots of peaceful little towns with beautiful buildings, you know...old-fashioned ornaments and woodcarvings on the porches and all..."
"Victorian." he says.
"Damn, you're smart..." I smile down at him. "Yes, Victorian. And when you drive from city to city the roads are so smooth and lonely, and everything you see around you is just pastures and hills, some covered in grass, others still covered in snow..."
"Sounds beautiful."
"It is..." I say as I try to recall the images of my recent trip from memory. "So quiet, so peaceful...with farmhouses and rugged beaches, and oh yeah, lots of sheep."
"Sheep?"
"Sheep. Lots and lost of sheep. They've got more sheep down there than people."
"Wow. And what about the indigenous tribe?"
"The Maori? I didn't get to learn much about them, really. Not enough time. I did get a chance to visit one of their cultural centres, learn about their native crafts and all..."
"I heard they made jewelry from grass and bone..."
"Not just grass and bone, mind you..." I correct him. "They also make jewelry out of silver, jade, and seashells...ah, I remember now."
"What?"
Gently, I disentangle myself from him and reach to the floor, where our clothes lay in untidy heaps. I find my jacket somewhere in the pile and reach into the pocket, drawing out the gift I bought for Uke in New Zealand.
"This is for you..." I show him the necklace.
It was made of a black leather cord, and the pendant was a seashell pounded and shaped into a large spiral. Iridescent colors flash along the seashell everytime it moves, making it shimmery.
Uke's eyes go wide as he sees it, a smile breaking onto his face.
"Nam-Il! You didn't have to..."
"I bought it the day you scored the opening goal against Maldives. I had to get something for my favourite goalscorer." I smile.
"It's beautiful..." he says as he holds the pendant in his hand.
"Come on, turn around...let me put it on you."
Uke obliges and turns around as I drape the necklace around his neck. "Tell me if it's too tight..."
"No, this is okay."
"The Maori call this shape the koru," I say as I tie the cord at the back of his neck. "To them, it symbolizes life, harmony, and new beginnings..."
"It's so smooth..." he says in awe. "I can't believe it's made out of a seashell..."
He turns around and I see the pendant dangling from his neck, his hands brushing along its polished surface.
"They probably won't let me wear it on the pitch, though..." he says regretfully. "The pendant's a little too big..."
"That's okay..." I smile to assure him.
"Nam-Il...thank you." he flings his arms around my neck. "I don't have anything for you right now..."
"Never mind that." I tell him. "Just win that gold medal for me, okay?"
"I will," he says, then smiles wickedly. "But don't think I'm going to give that to you when I win it, though."
"Brat!" I say as I pounce on him, wrestling him down to the bed again. His laughter rings loud in my ears, like music. My heart is telling me that this is what I'm looking for, that this is where I belong. With Uke, who makes everything feel so easy and so right whenever I'm around him.
It took me a near-fatal mistake to realize just how much Uke really means to me. The way I left him in the dark about my whereabouts as I disappeared following my falling out with the Chunnam management, the way he looked so hurt and angry as I stood in his doorway, as he shoved me nearly off my feet.
I saw tears in his eyes, and that made me crumble.
I walked down his corridor on that night with every intention of playing it cool, of acting like nothing serious happened. I only wanted him to know that I was okay. After scanning through my unanswered calls and messages and seeing his name there, repeatedly, the tone of the messages becoming more and more urgent with each day, I panicked. I knew I had to get in touch with him, I just didn't know how. And after seeing his performance in the friendly against North Korea, I realized that I had done something
That's why I went straight to his apartment. I wanted to explain things, to tell him that I was okay. But the first thing I got was his angry remark, and a door nearly slammed in my face. I knew that if I'd let that door slam shut, all would be over. I would lose Uke.
And that thought scared me. It absolutely scared me. I didn't want to lose Uke.
>From that moment on I lost all pretense of being cool and panicked. I even cried, more or less shamelessly, as I held him and pretty much begged for his forgiveness.
Once again, my own stupidity, my own insensitivity, almost cost me something that means so much to me. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let that happen again. I will not let Uke be taken away from me the way Ji- Sung was.
Well, Nam-Il...maybe that's where you're wrong. Ji-Sung was never taken away from you. You gave him up.
Yeah, sure, whatever...but I'm willing to lock that one up in a closet and never open it up again now. I'm done straddling the fence. I'm done asking 'are we or aren't we' questions. As far as I'm concerned, we are. I'm with Uke now. I'm with the person who makes me happy. And if Ji-Sung is happy with Sang-Chul, then it's good for him. It's about time I move on and stop wondering about what might have been. That way, everybody comes out happy.
And most important of all, I won't have to feel guilty towards Uke anymore.
Kim Tae-Young took a spoonful of his chocolate chip ice cream off his large cup and into his mouth, while across the table from him his companion was twirling his own spoon a little absent-mindedly around the his cup.
"What's the matter? You don't like it?"
Lee Young-Pyo looked up, a little shocked, but quickly shook his head. "No, I'm okay."
"I can get you another one if you don't like strawberry..."
"No, it's okay, I like it." the little midfielder said as he spooned a little of the ice cream into his mouth.
They were sitting in a window booth of the small ice cream shop in the athlete's village, with the large cultural stage at the plaza in full view. There was a concert there by some well-known Korean bands as well as bands from other countries, and many athletes and visitors alike were down there enjoying their Saturday night.
"I'm still, you know...surprised to bump into you here, Tae-Young." Young-Pyo said.
"Well, getting a visitor's badge isn't that difficult as long as you're willing to pay the admission price..." Tae-Young said.
"I know, but..."
"You're wondering what am I doing here in the first place?"
"Well, yeah."
"Tell you the truth, I kinda miss being in an athlete's village. You know, the atmosphere. Plus I heard they've got some great stuff going on in here on the weekends."
Young-Pyo nodded, still looking a little nervous. Tae-Young had been taking a stroll down the main plaza when he noticed Young-Pyo walking alone, clad in his Korean national team jacket and all. He'd offered to buy him dinner somewhere but the younger man had declined, so Tae-Young opted to treat him to some ice cream instead. Either Young-Pyo really did want some ice cream of he was just too polite to refuse, but they ended up here.
"You seem a little...worried about something." Tae-Young said.
"Huh?" Young-Pyo looked at him. "Oh, well...it's just that I'm a little worried about the team."
"You guys are doing just fine, it seems."
"I know, but I'm afraid that we're getting a little too complacent. The first three matches, we're still shaky at the back. We even conceded two goals against Oman."
Tae-Young smiled. How characteristic of Young-Pyo to be worrying about the team just as the others are celebrating going into the second round and enjoying their night off. "You can't expect to keep a clean sheet on every tournament you know...not even when you go against opponents like Oman."
"I know, it's just that..." Young-Pyo took another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "I'm worried that overconfidence is going to cost us. Especially in defense."
"Where is Hong Myung-Bo when you need him?" Tae-Young smiled at the younger man.
Young-Pyo returned the smile. "And where is Kim Tae-Young when you need him, too?"
"You're just flattering me." Tae-Young said. "Word I get on the news is that you've been a pretty influential figure on the pitch yourself...the 'beating heart' of the national team, they say."
Young-Pyo looked down again, his cheeks turning into the same shade as his strawberry ice cream. Tae-Young never knew any other twenty-five year old that could blush so fiercely-or so beautifully. There was always an element of shyness to the way Young-Pyo talked or conducted himself in life, so starkly different to the fierce, commanding figure he played on the pitch. Tae-Young found the contrast very amusing, and oddly enough, very attractive when he thought about it.
"Try talking to the others about it..." Tae-Young suggested. "They should listen to you, right? With your experience..."
Young-Pyo shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know...I'm never good at trying these motivational pep talks..."
"Maybe your captain should do it."
"Who? Dong-Gook?" Young-Pyo snorted. "It doesn't help that your captain is pretty much walking on air himself after scoring his three goals..."
Tae-Young smiled. "You don't really like him, do you?"
"Look, he's a good player and a decent captain, but he's not Hong Myung-Bo."
"Neither is anyone. You won't get another Hong Myung-Bo in this lifetime." Tae-Young reminded him solemnly.
"I know, but..." Young-Pyo sighed in resignation. "I wish Chong-Gug were here."
"Really?"
"I know it's a selfish thought, with him doing so well in Europe and all, but I just..."
"Selfish?" Tae-Young shook his head. "I don't see why you can call that selfish. Just wishful thinking, right?"
"Yeah...yeah, I guess so."
"I'm sure you'll be joining him soon enough. It's what you want, isn't it?"
"Who wouldn't want to play in Europe?" Young-Pyo smiled as he scooped another spoonful of ice cream. "It's been a lifelong dream for me..."
"And I think you're that much closer to getting it." Tae-Young said. "You're that good, you know."
Young-Pyo blushed again, and Tae-Young loved every second of it. He found himself thinking about what he should say next to get that sort of reaction again from the younger man, just so he could see the expression on his face.
They finished their ice cream and got out of the place, Tae-Young picking up the bill as promised. The concert at the stage was still at full swing, but neither of them wanted to join the large crowd or be at such a noisy venue. Instead, they opted to stroll down the plaza again at a leisurely place, along the path that would lead them back to the apartment blocks.
Nights were always windy in the port city of Busan, and the recent rains made the weather a little cold. Young-Pyo wrapped his jacket tightly around himself, but Tae-Young knew that the material they made those national jackets out of weren't exactly heat-retaining.
"You cold?" he asked the younger man as they walked.
"Huh, no...I'm okay." Young-Pyo said, but he couldn't hide the slight shiver that went through his body as a breeze blew past them.
"Here, you can wear mine..." Tae-Young started taking off his own thickly-insulated anorak.
"No, I'm fine..." Young-Pyo declined politely.
"Come on, I know that jacket's not good enough to keep out the cold...I've worn quite a few of them, remember?"
Young-Pyo looked confused as to whether he should take up the offer. "But, Tae-Young...you might get sick."
"Better me than you." Tae-Young said. "Now come on, put it on."
To this, Young-Pyo couldn't work up a denial. Quietly, nervously, he let Tae-Young slide the jacket onto him, going over his flimsy national jacket. Tae-Young let one of his arms drape around the younger man's shoulders. He could sense Young-Pyo's nervousness, but there was no blatant discomfort, so he let his arm stay there as they continued walking down the plaza.
"So...when's your next match?"
"Tuesday."
"Against whom?"
"Bah...Bahrain." Young-Pyo struggled a bit with the country's name.
"Hmm...I don't know much about them."
"I don't know much about them, either. We did play Kuwait and the UAE in friendlies, but I don't know if all the gulf countries are of the same type when it comes to tactics..."
They walked together towarsd the apartment blocks in silence, peppered by sporadic conversations numbering no more than three or four sentences apiece. The walkway was paved with blocks arranged in geometric patterns, brilliantly lit by evenly spaced lights placed in tall posts with banners fluttering in the night's wind.
The chill was starting to settle into Tae-Young's bones, so he was a little glad when they finally reached the entrance to the apartment block where Young-Pyo was staying. The little midfielder took off the borrowed jacket and handed it back to his older companion, smiling a little shyly.
"Thanks, you know...for everything."
"Hey, no problem." Tae-Young put the jacket back on. "You get some rest, okay? And play good on Tuesday."
"I will." Young-Pyo assured him. "Well, good night..."
"Good night." Tae-Young said as he watched Young-Pyo disappear into the doorway.
Lee Young-Pyo rode the elevator up to his floor alone, gazing at his own reflection in the mirrored walls. His heart was still beating a little rapidly, and it irritated him.
He shouldn't be feeling like this. Tae-Young, after all was jus here to enjoy the atmosphere, and they accidentally bumped into each other. He shouldn't read too much into it. Who wouldn't want to spend a night with a known friend rather than wander around the ahtlete's village all by himself?
Most disturbing of all, why was he reacting like an immature teenager to all this? So much for Lee Young-Pyo, the epitome of maturity, he thought to himself.
He remembered only one other occasion where he was made to feel like this, but that seemed so long ago by comparison, in such a different situation.
Ki-Hyeon.
To this day, he still thinks about that night with Ki-Hyeon from time to time. Not that it bothered him much. Both of them knew what they were doing, the momentary bliss of celebration, and both of them came out of it with no regrets.
Especially Ki-Hyeon, now happily sitting atop the Jupiler League goalscoring standings, with his girlfriend and baby boy to keep him in happy company.
And where does that leave him? Where does that leave Lee Young-Pyo?
He missed Chong-Gug very much. Chong-Gug had been a good friend of him even before the World Cup, and they were very much alike. Now, being in a national team filled with young hotshots who sometimes think too much of themselves and too little of their opponents, he realized just how much he missed the likes of Hong Myung-Bo and Kim Tae-Young in the team.
Even somebody like Chong-Gug, young yet with a sense of quiet responsibilty and with both feet firmly on the ground, would be a welcome change to all this overcharged adrenaline and testosterone running around the pitch with him.
He was jarred from his thoughts by the distinct ping of the elevator as it reached his floor, and he waited for the doors to slide open.
When they did, however, he saw in front of him the person he least expected to see.
"Nam-Il?"
The other man's eyes went wide with shock. "Young...Young-Pyo..."
Young-Pyo recovered quick enough to step out of the elevator before the doors could slide shut again. Nam-Il just stood there looking at him, as if not knowing what to say.
"What...what are you doing here?"
Nam-Il's expression turned a little guilty. "I was...I was just..."
"Visiting Uke." Young-Pyo finished the sentence for him. "I know."
"Young-Pyo, I..."
"Listen, loverboy...you don't have to explain anything to me."
Nam-Il paused to take a deep breath. "Look, Young-Pyo...I know you think I'm not good enough for him..."
"Hey, hold it." Young-Pyo held up a hand to stall him. "I never said that. Never."
"Okay, let me rephrase the statement." Nam-Il nodded. "I know you hold me responsible for the way he played in the friendly with North Korea. Would that be accurate enough?"
Young-Pyo bit down on his lower lip. So Nam-Il knows about that one. Well, he figured it was a good thing that he realized it. "I guess so."
"Look, I know that one was my mistake. I shouldn't have disappeared like that without telling him, without letting him know where I was..."
"He was worried sick about you." Young-Pyo said, looking straight at Nam-Il's eyes. "Before the match he was a nervous wreck, and I could barely have his focus for five minutes without his thoughts wandering off somewhere..."
"I know, I know." Nam-Il held up his hands. "And I know it's my fault, believe me. I'm trying to make it up to him."
"Nam-Il..."
"I know you probably think I'm just toying around with him, Young-Pyo. Well, I'm not. I'm really trying to make it work with him."
"Does that mean you're over Ji-Sung?"
Nam-Il's eyes widen. "You...you know about Ji-Sung?"
"I saw enough to notice, and let's leave it at that." Young-Pyo said tersely. "Tell me, Nam-Il...are you over Ji-Sung?"
Nam-Il swallowed hard, once, and nodded. "I am."
"You don't sound too sure to me," Young-Pyo said as he walked past Nam-Il, brushing aside his shoulders.
"Young-Pyo, wait!" Nam-Il reached to grab his arm and stop him. "Look, whatever I had with Ji-Sung, it's gone now...and I can't get it back. My own stupidity cost me whatever chances I had with him, and now I'm determined not to let it happen again."
"Nam-Il..."
"I know I've already hurt Uke once, and I feel damn guilty about it." Nam-Il's eyes were pleading with him. "I'll make it up to him. I won't hurt him anymore."
"Well I hope not. Because if you hurt him..." Young-Pyo stepped closer to gaze piercingly into the taller man's eyes. "...I will hurt you."
Nam-Il seemed a little taken aback by this threat, and Young-Pyo took the moment to spin on his heels and start walking down the corridor, leaving Nam-Il behind.
"I'm not fooling around this time, Young-Pyo!" Nam-Il called after him. "I'm serious with Uke...I really want to be with him."
"Well that's good..." Young-Pyo said without bothering to stop or to look back. "But have you told him that?"
The silence that answered told him that, just as he suspected, Nam-Il had not.
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