Chanyeol wipes the sweat off his brow with his wristband, spinning his racket in his hands and tightening his grip as he waits from the ball to be served. There’s only this final set left between him and the championship title. He can almost taste it.

The serve is almost an ace but Chanyeol throws his arm out as far as he can reach, catching the ball with the top of his racket and belts it back down across the court.

They go at it back and forth, neither one of them relenting. Chanyeol pulls in a couple of points before Joohyeon wins them back, leveling out the score again. The ballboys dash across the court quickly, gathering the stray balls that hit the net.

Chanyeol swallows dryly, fiddling with the shaft of his racket before stepping forward to serve. A small movement catches his eye; one of the ballboys crouching on his side of the net, pushing his hair aside with his hand. Chanyeol has noticed him before, having seen him pass by in couple of other games too, catching his interest. He takes a closer look at him now, noting how tall and lean he is, even as he crouches down low on the ground by the end of the net, keeping his knee close to his chest. He keeps shaking his bangs out of his eyes; it’s both incredibly cute and extremely distracting. Maybe he’ll get his name after the game this time if he catches him in time.

He sends another powerful ball sailing over the net and Joohyeon runs to smash it back. It’s almost out of his reach and Chanyeol streaks over to the over side of the box, grunting as he s his racket out and pounds it back towards the net before he staggers off balance. The crowd roars and Chanyeol blinks when he gets his footing again, confused. Joohyeon hasn’t moved from his spot and Chanyeol can’t see the ball anywhere. Instead he sees a small cluster of people gathering around someone by the end of the net, and that’s when he spots the ball lying a short way off.

Horrified, Chanyeol dashes over and recognizes the ballboy uniform. It's none other than the cute ballboy himself, lying flat on the ground in shock, sporting a very bloody nose.

The medics rush onto the court, helping him sit up slowly and Chanyeol watches dismayed as the ballboy squeezes pained tears from his eyes.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Chanyeol tries to call out over the huddle of people but his coach, Kyungsoo, shows up behind him, tugging him away.

“Give him some space and let them handle it,” he says, patting him on the shoulder. Chanyeol can’t do anything but watch as one of the medics helps him up onto his feet, holding him steady when he sways dizzily.

Chanyeol doesn’t get a chance to say anything before they lead him away, just catching sight of the bundle of tissues coming away bloody in the medic’s hands.

The umpire calls for the match to go on and Chanyeol takes his place again, swallowing down the guilt. Undeterred, Joohyeon throws the ball up high and smashes an ace right past him. Gritting his teeth, Chanyeol shakes himself and exhales slowly, focusing on getting his head back into the game. It’s his turn to serve.

The roar of the crowd is deafening when he snags the final point he needs to win the match and the trophy. Chanyeol drops to his knees and throws his arms up triumphantly, gripping his racket so hard his knuckles go white. Kyungsoo leaps over the barrier and hurls himself right at him, wrapping an arm around Chanyeol’s neck and cheering happily, not even caring about the sweat when he ruffles his hair.

There’s nothing quite as incredible as feeling the heavy weight of the trophy being pushed into in his hands, and he raises it up high to the cheers of the crowd. His cheeks ache from the force of his smile but he can’t stop.

Kyungsoo takes the racket from him so he can keep the trophy in hand and make his rounds along the court staff, shaking everyone’s hand and signing a few autographs. Joohyeon clasps his hand tightly and thunps him on the back before disappearing with his manager to the locker room.

When Chanyeol finally comes down from his celebratory high, the accident from earlier suddenly crosses his mind again and his stomach churns guiltily. Kyungsoo is busy scooping up the plushies and flowers littering the tennis court; gifts from devoted fans who came to watch the game. He spots a puppy plushie lying face down on the floor by his bags and he picks it up, dusting it off.

The med bay is on the other side of the locker rooms, sectioned and partitioned by some folding screens. Chanyeol finds him sitting on one of the stretcher beds, swaddled in an oversized hoodie as he clutches some cotton buds against his nostrils.

"Hi, uh-," Chanyeol squints, reading the name tag on the front of his shirt. "Jongin?"

Jongin turns and blinks in surprise to see him, squeezing the cotton buds a little tighter. His nose really does look awful and swollen. Chanyeol swallows and prays that it's not broken.

"I'm really sorry about your nose," he starts, gingerly setting the puppy plush down on the stretcher beside Jongin.

He wonders for a moment if he can get sued for this kind of thing before pushing the thought aside quickly, bringing his focus back to the fact that he half broke this guy's face. Maybe it’s just Chanyeol trying to be optimistic, but Jongin still looks distractingly cute even with the swelling.

Jongin looks down at the puppy contemplatively, lowering the cotton buds for a moment when he faces him again.

"Buy me a latte and we're good?" he mumbles, his voice sounding nasal and thick.

Chanyeol blinks, a little slow on the uptake before realizing what's happening. He nods quickly, breaking into a relieved smile. Buying him lunch is the least he can do anyway.

He gives Jongin his number, suggesting one of the cafes in the area that he usually gets coffee from, agreeing to meet there once they’ve cleaned up.

“i didn't catch the last part but, uh,” Jongin says just as Chanyeol turns to leave. “That was a really great game today.”

Chanyeol can tell he's trying to work up a smile, though it's clear that it's a little hard to move his face too much right now.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says sincerely before heading out to look for Kyungsoo and get his bag.

He ends up taking him out to dinner later too when their cafe stop together turns into a long, heated argument over Star Wars that definitely needs to be settled. Chanyeol’s heart squeezes a little at the way Jongin winces with each bite of food but he stirs up enough conversation to distract him. Talking too much has always been his charm, or so he likes to think anyway. Jongin’s laughing, so that’s a good sign. He looked cute on court but he’s so much more adorable up close, even with his swollen nose. His bangs keep falling into his eyes and his smile takes over his whole face, laughing with his entire body. Unsurprisingly, he’s passionate about tennis even though he doesn’t play. Jongin’s cheeks go pink when he admits how he’s followed Chanyeol’s career from the very beginning. Flattered, Chanyeol beams a little bashfully, lowering his eyes to his food.

They go for drinks afterwards, finding a nice, snug corner at a bar to start off with a round of shots before moving on to cocktails. Chanyeol’s already a couple of drinks over his limit, getting pretty buzzed on the alcohol and laughing so hard he keeps forgetting to breathe. Jongin’s own laughter rings loudly in his ears when he leans in close to his side. His nose looks even more puffy, though Chanyeol isn’t seeing particularly straight by this point.

They stumble drunkenly out into the street when they finally leave at some ridiculous hour of the night.

"My nose hurts," Jongin whines, pawing clumsily at Chanyeol’s shoulder, struggling to keep himself upright and steady.

Chanyeol hums thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his chin. “Maybe I should kiss it better.”

Except when he leans down to press a kiss to Jongin’s nose, he finds himself dipping down lower to press his mouth to Jongin’s. It’s a quick peck but Jongin looks up at him and giggles.

“Do that again,” he smiles, wobbling as he tilts his head up. “Feels nice.”

Chanyeol grins and stumbles into him when he dips down again, nudging him back right into a lamp post. Jongin arches his neck up to meet Chanyeol in a proper kiss, keeping him close with his hands fisted in his front.  

How they stumble back to Chanyeol’s apartment is a little fuzzy, both too caught up in making out to take much notice of anything else. At some point, Jongin has Chanyeol pinned to his own front door, mouthing at his throat while Chanyeol struggles to get the key into the lock. The stagger inside when he finally pushes it open, tripping over each other in fits of laughter, knocking things over in the dark because Chanyeol doesn't have the presence of mind to bother with the lights.

Chanyeol's entire body is burning hot, everything is spinning and Jongin's mouth is so warm and soft on his own. That's the last thing he remembers before they tumble down onto his bed.  

Chanyeol wakes up to a pounding headache ricocheting in his skull. It takes immense effort to sit up and crack his eyes open, shivering at the icy draft nipping at his skin; he must have forgotten to close the window last night.

Last night. Whipping around, Chanyeol nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds Jongin lying next to him, cocooned in the sheets with his face buried in the pillow. Mortified, Chanyeol is suddenly acutely aware that neither of them are wearing shirts. He groans quietly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before lifting the bed sheet up from his hips. His breath comes out in a relieved whoosh; he's still fully clothed down there so nothing must have happened then past what he can recall from the night before.

Slipping out from under the sheets, Chanyeol pads out of the room silently, picking up a stray shirt and winces at the touch of the freezing floor. Jongin is still fast asleep when he pulls the door closed behind him, trying not to make a sound.

He presses the heel of his palm against his forehead, trying vainly to tamp down the headache throbbing behind his eyeballs. He’s barely stepped into the kitchen when he stops dead, gaping at the window by the sink.

“What the-”

He can’t see anything outside at all through whatever it is that’s covering up the glass panes from the outside. Narrowing his eyes, Chanyeol reaches for the handle and pushes, struggling to make it budge.

He gets his answer when a mound of snow tumbles down into his sink. Chanyeol groans, closing the window again when the freezing gale outside blows more snow into his face. The snowstorm wasn’t supposed to hit for another couple of days. He checks the front door and the rest of the windows just to be sure; the house is completely snowed in.  

Sighing, he heads back to the kitchen, pulling the blanket off the couch as he goes to keep out the chill. Coffee. He needs coffee.

Chanyeol stares at the kettle while it boils the water, mulling over everything he remembers from the night before. He remembers enjoying dinner with Jongin enough to ask him out for drinks later on. Everything up till there is still pretty clear, from the details of their entire conversation down to the way Jongin’s eyes crinkle when he laughs. Things get a little fuzzier a tray of shots later; he remembers stumbling out of the bar, pressed up close to Jongin and then. Kissing him. A lot. He remembers the soft warmth of his mouth that drowned out everything else. Chanyeol touches his lips absently before he catches himself and lets his fingers fall away.

He hears a sound behind him while he’s shoveling some sugar into his mug and turns to see Jongin standing by the doorway, looking thoroughly exhausted. Chanyeol freezes awkwardly, suddenly unsure of what to say or how much Jongin even remembers. And how much of that Jongin actually liked.

“Hi,” Jongin says quietly, wrapping his arms around himself uncertainly. “Uh.”

Chanyeol tries not to focus on the fact that Jongin’s wearing one of Chanyeol’s t-shirts rather than his own.

“Coffee?” he offers instead, trying to ease the palpable awkwardness between them. Jongin wrinkles his nose at that before groaning in pain, his hand flying up to hover over his nose gingerly.

“I feel like ,” he groans, squinting through the ache. Chanyeol hums sympathetically, eyeing the nasty shade of purple spreading along the bridge of his swollen nose. Popping a tea bag into another mug, he sets them both on the table and pats the chair beside him in invitation.

Jongin finally shuffles closer, dropping into the seat heavily and folds his arms again with a violent shiver.

“It’s freezing out here,” he says, glancing over at the window curiously. “Is that- are we snowed in?”

Chanyeol nods with a sigh, thinking about the hours of shoveling it’s going to take to clear the path once the storm has passed. It’s snowing too heavily right now to do anything about it. It also means that Jongin’s going to have to stick around a little longer.

Jongin cups his mug of tea quietly, staring down at the steaming liquid and Chanyeol wants to ask so badly. It’s right on the tip of his tongue, desperately wondering what he’s thinking. He can almost feel the giant elephant standing in the room between them; they’d just woken up in the same bed, half , after all.

“I remember most of last night,” Jongin says suddenly, like he knows exactly what’s going through Chanyeol’s mind. He’s still not looking up at Chanyeol, his fingers tightening around his mug.

“I, um. It was nice,” he ends lamely, lifting his mug to take a sip. He doesn’t specify exactly what ‘it’ is but he doesn’t exclude anything either. His uncertainty as he waits for Chanyeol’s reaction is familiar enough to read.

“Yeah, it was,” Chanyeol says, hiding his smile behind the rim of his mug. He catches Jongin grinning into his tea, the tips of his ears flaming red and leans closer to bump their shoulders together.

Jongin stays for lunch when it becomes evident that there’s no way he can get home in this weather. It’s almost one in the afternoon anyway seeing as they slept right through the morning. There isn’t much in his fridge; he’d forgotten to stock up this week after spending so much time on the courts, focused on the final. Still, with Jongin’s help they manage a fairly decent meal of chicken with enough side dishes to make a proper lunch.

“It’s been a while since I could let myself go a little like this,” Chanyeol chuckles, shoveling a forkful of rice into his mouth ravenously. “Been focused on training and all that.”

“Paid off,” Jongin grins, stabbing a piece of chicken from his plate to push it onto Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol beams at him. He stretches his legs under the table, sliding his foot out and bumps into Jongin’s ankle. Eyes on his food, Jongin doesn’t look up but he hooks their ankles together anyway, trapping Chanyeol’s between both of his. His smile widens even if Jongin doesn’t see it.

There’s nothing much else to do in the house once they’ve cleared away the dishes so Chanyeol pops in a dvd. The movie has been out for a while now but he’s never actually gotten around to watching it yet.

“Is this the one where they’re inside her head?” Jongin asks when the opening credits of ‘Inside Out’ pop up on the screen. He’s settled on the other end of the couch from Chanyeol, hugging his knees into his chest.

Nodding, Chanyeol sets the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table for Jongin to help himself. They’re silent for all of ten minutes before Jongin passes a comment and sets them off for the rest of the movie. It’s hard to rein in his laughter with the way Jongin gets so into the movie, yelling out pointed exclamations at the screen before turning to Chanyeol for validation. His eyes are bright with laughter too, dissolving into giggles every time Chanyeol smacks his arm at a particularly hilarious scene.

At one point Jongin laughs so hard he has to stop himself, wincing when his nose scrunches up too hard.

“Does it still hurt?” Chanyeol asks, leaning closer to get a better look at the swell.

“Yeah,” Jongin groans, turning to face him with a pitiful look on his face.

Chanyeol doesn’t spare much time to think about it. He dips in closer and presses his lips to the bridge of Jongin’s nose softly, just barely brushing them along his skin. He vaguely registers the sense of deja vu in the back of his mind.

Hesitating, Chanyeol pulls back to look at Jongin. His expression is open, eyes warm and hopeful. They’re both sober this time.

Chanyeol leans in again and Jongin meets him in the middle, parting his lips to kiss him properly. He feels Jongin’s palm cupping his jaw and tilts his head to kiss him more deeply, sending a deep warmth coursing through his nerves right down to the tips of his toes.

Jongin whimpers quietly when their noses bump, and Chanyeol pulls away a fraction, slowing down and kisses him more softly, angling his head enough to steer clear of his nose. He hadn’t realized he was nearly halfway into Jongin’s lap until Jongin loses his balance and falls backwards on the couch, pulling him down with him.

Jongin wheezes out a laugh when Chanyeol lands on his chest heavily. He cards his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair gently, even as Chanyeol shifts a little more to the side to ease his weight off of him. Still, Jongin clutches him close, pushing a knee in between Chanyeol’s thighs.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs, burrowing in impossibly closer.

Chuckling, Chanyeol kisses the underside of his jaw. He hoists himself up onto one elbow, propping his chin up on his palm to look at Jongin properly, bringing a hand up to brush Jongin’s bangs away from his eyes.  

“D’you want to stay the night again?” he asks quietly, wondering if that’s too bold.

Jongin slides his fingers under the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt, pressing the tips into the smooth skin of his stomach.

“Only if you go out and get me a bowl of snow for my nose, it really does hurt a lot,” Jongin laughs at the way Chanyeol shoots up, ready to leap off the couch. He yanks him back by the shirt just before he does, pulling him back down and murmurs a ‘later’ into his lips.