“let him play,” hyukjae says, after practice one day. “we have a match in a week, let him play. it’ll be a trial run.” the coach sighs.

“i’ve only trained him for what? three weeks?” the coach says.

hyukjae meets his coach’s eye, refusing to back down. “and i’ve trained him every day for almost four months. he’s ready.”

“i thought you said this is my choice?”

“i said when it comes time for the olympics, you can decide whether or not you want him,” hyukjae corrects. “you’ll never know how well he plays if you never let him play. this match isn’t the end all be all. it’s the perfect opportunity.” he can see the coach’s signature slouch of defeat and he smiles.

“fine,” the couch says. “that will be his test.” hyukjae nods.

“i’ll let him know,” he says, making his way back to his bag. he reaches into his bag, pulling out his jersey, his fingers running through the smooth material. number 17.

his coach had asked him to retire his number when he had forced to stop playing.

at first, he had considered it.

but after meeting donghae… well it didn’t take long to make up his mind.

he tightens his grip on the jersey, spotting donghae helping ryeowook through a setting drill. he catches donghae’s eye and waves.

“donghae!” he calls. “come over here.” donghae nods and hands the ball off the kyuhyun before jogging over.

“yes, hyung?” he says. hyukjae gestures for donghae to follow.

“come, i need to talk to you,” he says, making his way out of the gym through a rarely used exit. the door slams shut, the slam echoing through the vast empty halls. when the echo fades, the hall is silent. hyukjae stands, donghae across from him, carefully considering his next words.

“hyung?” donghae asks, his eyes wide with concern. “is something wrong?” hyukjae shakes his head.

“no, not at all,” hyukjae reassures. “just the opposite. we have a match in a week. coach wants you to play.”

donghae’s mouth falls open and he stutters in shock.

“i — really?” he says. “i get to play?” hyukjae chuckles.

“yes, donghae,” he says and suddenly his breath is knocked out of him when donghae collides with him in a hug. hyukjae hesitates before he slowly wraps his arms around donghae, rubbing small circles on the other man’s back.

when donghae finally pulls back, hyukjae misses his warmth immediately.

“thank you, hyung,” donghae says. hyukjae shakes his head.

“you worked hard for this,” he says. “you earned it. here.” he holds out his jersey. donghae stares.

“is… is that your…” donghae stutters.

“my jersey?” hyukjae finishes. he gently pushes the shirt into donghae's hand, curling his hand over donghae's so that he’s actually holding the shirt. “it’s yours now.”

“b-but,” donghae says. hyukjae raises an eyebrow.

“but what?”

“but it’s yours! it should be retired with you!”

“and i think you should have it. are you going to accept it?” donghae’s eyes widen almost comically and bows.

“hyung,” he says, and hyukjae can hear that he’s crying. “it’s an honour and — i’ll wear it when i play in the olympics.”

when, not if.

hyukjae swallows thickly and pulls donghae into a tight hug.

“thank you, donghae,” he whispers.

—

hyukjae can hear the cheers of the crowd from the changeroom. hyukjae is sitting in the center of the room, the rest of his team shuffling around him and the buzz of thrill and adrenaline shooting through his body.

donghae is standing in front of him, looking awkward and out of place, slouching with his sweater still on. hyukjae beckons donghae over.

“nervous?” hyukjae asks. donghae scratches the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.

“a little bit, yeah,” he says. hyukjae pulls donghae closer with a hand on the man’s wrist.

“don’t be,” he says. “you’ll do fine.” donghae chuckles.

“okay,” he says.

“five more minutes,” someone calls. donghae sighs and s his jacket, revealing his jersey for the first time. he’s not wearing hyukjae’s jersey, but hyukjae knows donghae has the jersey tucked safely in his backpack. instead, he’s wearing twenty-one.

donghae makes quick work of stripping off his sweatpants, pulling on his knee pads, and tying his shoes. hyukjae admires the man’s lithe form, a weapon packed in the form of a slender man.

“let’s go,” hyukjae calls to everyone. he gets to his feet and watches as everyone leaves the changeroom. donghae lingers for a second and hyukjae places a hand on the back of his neck. when donghae looks over at him, hyukjae smiles reassuringly. “let’s go.”

donghae nods and catches up with the group. hyukjae trails behind them, lis