That Monday Morning

The young exchange student was making his way down the halls of the aquatic centre when he was suddenly hit with the strong smell of chlorine, reflecting off the tiled walls. He now relaxed and his thoughts were brought away from this English speaking country where he survived with his basic English, to his home country where writing in syllable blocks were the norm. He missed the swimming halls that he frequented, earning him his defined muscles, extraordinary lung capacity as well as his ability to swim 1km in the span of twelve minutes. When he came to the 50m pool he bent down to feel the water.

‘Warm enough.’ He wore his goggles and went to stand on the pedestal. As he was soaring through the air, he felt like he needn’t worry about anything. Once he was surrounded by the cool waters though, he didn’t resurface until he had swum at least a third of the pool. That hadn’t affected him as he just kept swimming. Once reaching the wall he gracefully tumbled and was shooting right back to the side where he came from. He felt so free that he forgot all about time and worries, instead he was just circling the pool, length after length.

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As the blonde was making his way through the changing-rooms he noticed there was another locker in use. Usually no one was here this early, either nursing their careless hangovers from the weekend, in bed with whomever they had hooked up with or just resting until the time of their classes. The blonde was the only one here every, single Monday morning.

Once he had changed to swim trunks which fitted snugly against his hips, he sauntered through the corridors like he owned the place, stretching out his never-ending legs in the process. He stopped dead in his tracks once he spotted a figure in the waters, zooming back and forth. The figure moved so gracefully and didn’t really splash. It was as if he was born for this, born with the secrets of turning, postures of professionals, the lung capacity of free-divers. Everything about the waterborne man was captivating and had the blonde entranced. He just couldn’t stop staring.

As the black haired boy was rising from the waters for a breather, his eye lay to rest at the man in front of him. His muscles weren’t that impressive however the man’s tall stature was slightly disheartening. Chen knew he was short however back home he was still an OK height. Whilst in Canada he felt diminutive compared to the males (and some females too) he had met so far. 

As the boy was getting out, the blonde could finally accurately judge him. The boy’s height amused him, to think he was rendered speechless by someone so short. The muscles though, he had to admit, were impressive. They puffed out at right places and seemed rigid as rock, some veins were visible on his biceps, swim-trunks practically glued to his firm thigh muscles. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little envious. If his mother knew this kid, she’d say he was full of ‘chicken meat’. He snickered at the image. Maybe he’d make a friend today.

That was his last thought as he wore his swimming cap to protect his hair from “harsh” chemicals, wore the fitted goggles and dived.

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As closing time for the length swimming was nearing, the boy got out of the water. The blonde quickly followed as he wanted to strike up conversation.  

“Your technique looked good. How long you’ve been swimming?”

“Uhm… No good English…”

“Oh. What about Chinese or Korean?”

In recognition of his mother-tongue, he nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, you know Korean?” he said giddily with quick Korean. How he’s missed to speak in his native-language.

“Yeah, languages are interesting. So, how long you’ve been swimming?” the blonde replied with accented Korean. As the boy realised this was someone to speak Korean with, he immediately opened up.

“I’ve been swimming since I was 4… That’s 16 years already.” The shorter was beaming as he reminisced in the recollections he had made in those 16 cheerful years. “What about you? You looked pretty good you too.”

“I’ve been training for the merit points from contests. Just in case I need them after UNI you know? Well, basketball’s my true passion though.”

“Oh, didn’t expect that. Thought you were able to pull off the books without merits. I mean, with your body type and all I expected you to be a straight A-student.”

“Well thank you, I try– wait, are you criticizing my physique? I’ll tell you, I have the hottest body out there. Got all ‘em girls and boys all worked up,” he said with a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame. “Want me to pull out my guns?” the blonde said mockingly in English as he was lifting his arms.

“Guns?! What guns?!” His voice went up some octaves but it was the terrified look on the boy’s look face that did it.

The man burst into non-stop laughter for minutes. Once he was finally calming down, he wiped his laughter-filled tears, teased the boy about his slang vocabulary and attentively watched the boy turn several shades redder.

As he was draped the towel over his broad shoulders, he continued “Well, I’m Wu YiFan but call me Kris. That’s my English name.”

Side note: In Chinese, muscles (jīròu) sounds exactly like chicken (jī) meat (ròu)

A/N: I hate myself why did i build hype for this OTL this was probably not what u all expected hahahha

totally forgot to mark as done siht yeah this is the end sorry to dissapoint fml OTL

maybe a sequel maaaaaaaaybe (when i find time)