Ulsan Munsu Stadium
October 8th 2002
Asian Games Football Quarterfinals

Korea Republic 1 - 0 Bahrain

There was an all-too familiar buzz in the air of the dressing room, hanging there amongst the sweat and humidity and freshly-showered bodies, a tangible note at the edge of every conversation, every spoken word.

Lee Young-Pyo knew that feeling well. It was the feeling that victory was near, that the goal they had set their sights upon was now within reach.

He'd felt it back in 2000, before the match that clinched the K-League title for his club, Anyang Cheetahs. He'd felt it again in the locker room in Busan's Main Asiad stadium in June, before their first match against Poland. He'd felt it, subsequently, in Incheon, in Daejeon, and in Gwangju.

He even felt it, he noted with a sense of alarm, before the match with Germany, which they ended up losing.

Maybe that was why he couldn't bring himself to enjoy this buzz, to talk about their semifinals against Iran in optimistic tunes the way the others were, these youngsters in their first international tournament, believing that the gold medal was all but theirs.

Beside him, Uke was quietly stuffing his belongings into his traveling bag, looking a little quiet and subdued as well. Occasionally his gaze would wander, more often than not to a corner of the room where Park Ji-Sung was chatting with Kim Eun-Jung and Choi Song-Gook, entertaining them with stories of his exploits in Japan with Kyoto.

Ji-Sung's presence seemed to be a source of unease for Uke, though Young-Pyo would bet on anything that it had very little to do with competition for a place in the starting line-up. Either Uke knew that Nam-Il was not completely over Ji-Sung, or the subject of Ji-Sung had never even been brought up between them. Knowing Nam-Il, he suspected it was the latter.

He hadn't mentioned to Uke about his encounter with Nam-Il in the apartment block corridor. He didn't know what it would do to Uke, and at this stage of the tournament he did not want to take his chances.

"Uke..." he asked lowly.

"Huh?"

"Where's Chun-Soo?"

Uke looked around, noticing for the first time that Chun-Soo was not there. "I don't know...still in the showers, maybe?"

Young-Pyo frowned and looked at his watch. Around them, many of the players were starting to file out of the dressing room. "Somebody better go get him...the bus will leave shortly."

"I'll go." Uke zipped up his bag and set it on the floor. "Are you going to wait here?"

"Yeah. Be quick about it, okay?"

"Sure."

As Uke disappeared out of the door, Young-Pyo let his gaze wander across the room, trying to scan the expressions on his teammate's faces.

Woon-Jae, taciturn as always, said very little and was quietly packing up his things. Ji-Sung was still talking and seemed to be in good spirits, but then again he deserved to be after a good performance that saw several attempts on goal tonight. For a player who'd just come off a flight from Japan, he did just fine.

Dong-Gook sat on a bench across from Young-Pyo, flexing his right leg thoughfully. Even though he was the one who scored the lone goal of the evening, Young-Pyo noticed that most of the cheer of previous matches was gone from his face. Instead the captain looked somewhat forlorn, his expression reflecting some of the nagging worry that was starting to creep into Young-Pyo's spine. When Dong-Gook caught his eye, the captain stood from his bench and walked over to where Young-Pyo was, sitting down beside him..

"Young-Pyo..." he said, a low murmur that the others couldn't hear.

"What?"

"I don't think I can start the semifinals." Dong-Gook said, a tone of resignation in his voice. "My leg..."

"Is it serious?" Young-Pyo asked.

"I don't know," Dong-Gook shook his head. "It's from that freak collision I had with the Omani keeper two matches ago."

Young-Pyo cringed as he recalled the sickening impact he witnessed just in front of the Oman goal during their second group match.

"If I don't start, you get to wear the armband, okay?" Dong-Gook said.

Wordlessly, Young-Pyo nodded. Not that it was much of a surprise to him. Coach Park had long made clear the list of succession should Dong-Gook be unable to start a match or have to be pulled out. His name was on top of that list.

"We could've gotten more out of this match, you know. More than one," Dong-Gook commented.

Young-Pyo nodded, not daring to look at Dong-Gook in the eyes. It seemed only yesterday that he was willing to scratch Lee Dong-Gook up as just another one of the hotshots, out to make a name for himself by scoring goals and not really caring about the overall performance of the team.

"We made some good chances, though..." he said.

"And wasted them." Dong-Gook said darkly. "I wasted too many of them. Right from the start of the tournament. It's been our story so far."

Young-Pyo rolled his eyes. Even he hadn't perceived their journey through the tournament in such a way. Evidently, Dong-gook had been doing some serious thinking on this matter.

"We have a realistic shot at gold, I know it..." Dong-gook paused to breathe deeply. "But is it ours already? The way so many people think it is?"

Young-Pyo shook his head. "No. It isn't ours already. The day we start thinking about it like that, we're screwed."

Dong-Gook nodded. "Why do I get the feeling that we already are?"

To this, Young-Pyo couldn't find an answer.

Uke walked down the corridor towards the showers, one hand dug into the pocket of his trainers, the other reaching up to his neck to where his koru necklace was, fingering the pendant incessantly. It felt good to be wearing it again after having to take it off for the match. Moreover, it felt good to be able to assure himself that it was really his.

He didn't know why he was feeling this insecure. Ji-Sung's arrival should've been nothing but a good omen for things to come, with one of their World Cup stars back with them, adding to their striking power. He'd already shown flashes of his June brilliance tonight, and if he could find his mark in the match against Iran...

Maybe he was just being paranoid. Nam-Il, after all, had never spoke of Ji-Sung for the entire time they'd been together. And they were together, weren't they? No longer just a casual fling, just a chance encounter here and there and a passionate night spent within tussled sheets. They were together now, and Uke had the seal to prove it, now hanging proudly from his neck. In the days after that night, when Nam-Il returned to him tearful and full of regret, he never went out of touch with Uke. Even when they

And he even took the effort to visit Uke in the Athlete's Village, all the way to his room. That should've been enough to make him feel secure about the entire situation. Nam-Il wasn't fooling around with him. He knew it in his heart, and oddly enough, he knew it in his mind.

So why was he still feeling threatened by Ji-Sung's presence?

He got into the door to the showers and opened it.

"Chun-Soo? Chun-Soo, are you in there?"

Nobody answered him, but Uke heard the sound of a shower running. He stepped inside and noticed a pile of clothes on the bench, in front of one of the stalls.

"Chun-Soo?"

The shower stalls in Munsu had curtains instead of doors like they did in Gudeok, and Uke noticed the steam rising off the top of the only stall that had its curtains drawn. His steps became slow, deliberate, and he didn't even know why. He had the distinct feeling that he was about to see something that may or may not be to his liking.

There was a small gap between the curtain and the wall, large enough for him to see inside if he stood at the right spot. But why was he doing this? Wouldn't it just be easier to call Chun-Soo out, tell him to hurry up? That was the sensible thing to do. But something, something made him want to look through that little gap to see what Chun-Soo was doing.

And when he did, he wished he hadn't looked.

The shower was on full, blasting mercilessly at the figure who sat with his back against the corner of the shower, his head of wet blonde hair hanging limp between his shoulders. One hand braced himself on the slippery tile floor, while the other hand was between his spread legs, stroking slowly at his cock.

Uke felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. The only right thing to do now, it seemed, would be to walk away quietly, wait until he's done, and then go in again and pretend he didn't see anything. But something made him stay. Something made him stand there and look, and watch.

Not that Uke had never seen a guy masturbate before. Not that he, himself had never took an opportunity to jack off in the shower before.

But something about what he was witnessing now just didn't seem...right.

His embarrassment soon turned into alarm as he noticed the body language given off by Chun-Soo's posture. The hanging head, the trembling hand, the way the soft voices that come out of him sound to more of pain than they were of pleasure...

Then, just as Uke thought he'd seen it all, Chun-Soo suddenly flung his head back, hitting it none-too-gently against the wall behind him.

His eyes were red, swollen, and Uke could detect tears running down his face along with water from the shower. Even through the thick steam, he could see it. The pain on his face was so evident, the way his mouth hung open, the way blood streaked from a corner of his lip where he'd obviously bitten down on it too hard...

Chun-Soo stroked himself faster, and now his moans came out like sobs. Maybe because they were. He sat there and jacked himself off and cried and wilted under the relentless spray of hot water, and Uke found himself a silent witness, held hostage by a tragic spectacle he wished he didn't have to see.

His brain wasn't functioning. His heart, his heart knew only pain. He felt Chun-Soo's pain. How could he not, when the other man was showing it so clearly?

Uke knew Chun-Soo must be hurting himself. If not from the scalding spray of hot water, from the way he constantly slammed his head against the wall, the way his face contorted into painful grimaces as his movements on his cock became more urgent, more desperate. For all Uke knew, he might be hurting himself down there as well.

The tears continued to flow, as did the sobs, and Chun-Soo's other hand was now at his face, brushing back strands of hair and clawing into them, none-too-gently. His eyes turned heavenwards, blinking profusely against the billowing steam.

Uke felt something catching in his throat. He wanted to get away, he wanted to leave this place, but his feet were firmly planted where they were.

It seemed like an eternity before Chun-Soo's hand finally began moving on his cock rapidly, his breathing going heavy as it did so. Then, Uke watched as the orgasm rocked through the other man's body, as spurts of his cum came jetting from the tip of his cock and onto his hand, and onto the floor, washed away into the drain. At that moment, Chun-Soo's eyes closed and his lips began quivering, moaning softly.

"Chong-Gug..." he said. "Chong-Gug..."

Uke felt like something had been ripped from his chest. That name, the instant flood of images it brought back to him. Chong-Gug. Chong-Gug and Chun-Soo. Together, in the field, playing around, laughing in the Seogwipo sunlight, wrestling each other to the ground, sleeping cuddled together in the bus, wiping each other's tears after Germany, after Turkey, things he'd always seen but never thought about, things that seem so obvious now.

"Chong-Gug..."

Uke wanted to close his ears and pretend he hadn't heard anything. Pretend he hadn't heard the raspy, painful way Chong-Gug's name drifted off Chun-Soo's lips, pretend he didn't see how Chun-Soo buried his face in his two hands and started sobbing uncontrollably.

But he couldn't leave. He couldn't leave Chun-Soo like this.

One of Chun-Soo's hands reached up, trembling, for the shower dial and turned it off. Uke felt his blood run cold. Now he really couldn't move a single muscle. With the noise of the shower gone, Chun-Soo would hear him if he made a move. But if he didn't, Chun-Soo would know he was here anyway. He stood there dumbstruck, not knowing what to do.

"I'm all right, Uke..." Chun-Soo's voice suddenly said, and Uke fought hard to stay on his feet.

"Ch...Chun-Soo..."

"I'm all right. Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine."

From the tiny gap Uke saw Chun-Soo getting to his feet, on wobbly legs, his flesh red where the hot water had struck him the most. He drew back the shower curtains and found himself eye to eye with Uke, who could do nothing but stare back.

Chun-Soo's eyes were dead.

Silently the other man began dressing himself, as if what had just happened had been completely normal, as if it didn't bother him at all that Uke had watched his entire ordeal.

"Come on, let's go back to the bus..." Chun-Soo said quietly.

Uke fought hard over the lump in his throat. "Chun-Soo, I..."

Chun-Soo held a forefinger to his lips, stalling any further words from his teammate.

"A word from the not-so-wise, Uke..." he said, his voice wary. "Don't fall in love unless you know what you're getting yourself into."

Uke felt gutshot. His knees threatened to buckle and give way underneath him, but somehow he managed to stay upright. Barely.

He watched Chun-Soo walk out the door, the words still ringing aloud in his ears. He reached up again, with a hand that was shaking terribly, and felt the pendant dangling from his neck.

Don't fall in love unless you know what you're getting yourself into

He stroked the pendant over and over again, dragging his trembling fingers across the polished seashell surface.

Somehow, it didn't feel as much of an assurance now as it did the last time.