CHINGUX 2014: sink or swim (1/4) for chajatta

[chinguline]

Title: Sink or Swim
Author: ANONYMOUS
Recipient: chajatta
Pairing/Focus: Kyungsoo-centric, OT4 (with more Kyungsoo/Baekhyun and Chanyeol/Jongdae)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: highlight [minor character death, descriptions of drowning, mentions of medical issues and hospitals, group sex, double penetration, use of sex toys]
Length: 31k
Summary: The South Korean men’s medley swimming team has hit an all-time low. What they need is a spark, and Do Kyungsoo might have just found exactly what-or who-they’re missing.
Author's note: so i’ve been watching too many sports animes these days (hello, free!) which translated perfectly into raging feels for your second prompt (and… me sneaking in free! references haha :3) ty to e, m, s and g for being patient idea bouncers/betas and listening to my wailing. this was great fun to write and i hope you enjoy it!



THE RACE: Sink or Swim

The water parts in front of Kyungsoo.

He extends his arms, pushing out towards the sides, cutting through the depths. Surface. Breath. Plunges back in. Repeat. Repeat. Keep the rhythm.

In front of him are the shadowy figures of other swimmers-Japan, China, India-at least a metre away, and pulling even further apart. Desperation courses through Kyungsoo’s veins as he pushes his already aching muscles to slice through the water, faster, faster.

Kyungsoo’s fingers hit the touch pad.

There’s a whoosh above him as Chanyeol dives, flying through the air before landing with a splash.

“Good job!” he hears from above, as Jongdae reaches down to help Kyungsoo out of the pool. “Don’t mind the turn, Chanyeol will catch up.”

Kyungsoo smiles weakly as he climbs up, draping a towel over his head. The water had been particularly unforgiving today, and he’d lost a lot of speed on his turn. His limbs are paying, arms and legs feeling more and more jelly-like by the second. Behind him, Jongin moves to the edge of the pool, readying himself to dive as Chanyeol powers his way back with deft strokes.

“Fighting, Jongin!” Jongdae cheers, and Jongin gives an uneasy smile before pulling his goggles down over his eyes and climbing up to the diving platform. “Last stretch. You can do it!”

Chanyeol’s hands hit the touch pad.

Jongin does not dive.

“Jongin?” Chanyeol pants, standing up in the lane. Jongin’s face is pulled into a pained grimace, and Kyungsoo’s stomach churns with unease. The swimmers in the other lanes have already pulled out ten, twenty metres in front, and Jongin’s still there on the platform, frozen, rooted to the spot. “Jongin, what are you doing? Dive!”

Jongin starts, plunging into the water with an ugly, formless splash, and Kyungsoo’s heart sinks.

2014 Asia Games in Incheon, South Korea. 1:30pm, October 4.

Men’s 100 metre medley relay finals.

KOR: 3:39.14.

“Last place,” Chanyeol says quietly, looking up at the scoreboard. This was the race Korea’s swimming community had been looking forward to the entire year-the debut of a phenomenal men’s medley team with brilliant track records, as the media had touted; the start of South Korea as a world-class swimming nation-and they’ve gone and screwed it up. The bitterness is positively oozing out of Chanyeol’s voice. “Last place. By four seconds. Four whole seconds.”

“We’ll do better next time,” Jongdae offers hopefully, resting a hand on Chanyeol’s shoulders. Chanyeol shrugs him off, picking up his towel and heading in the direction of the changerooms.

Kyungsoo turns to the pool. Jongin’s still in the water, grasping the lane rope, his gaze fixed on the lit-up numbers on the black screen.

3:39.14.

“Come on, Jongin.” Kyungsoo reaches out. Jongin clenches his jaw, hands curling up into fists. “Don’t let it get to you. Let’s go get changed.” The flashes of sport reporters’ cameras are burning into Kyungsoo’s back. The changerooms are the fastest escape route.

Jongin’s eyes meet his.

Devastation.

🏊 🏊 🏊 🏊

“What happened out there?”

The atmosphere in the changerooms is gloomy, air thick and suffocating. Kyungsoo leans against the lockers, clammy hands sliding into his tracksuit pockets. Chanyeol is sitting on the bench opposite, head held low, hands interlocked at the nape of his neck. Jongdae has a comforting hand on Chanyeol’s back, and Jongin, hands still balled, is standing next to their coach Minseok.

Minseok sighs, uncrossing his arms. “That was ten seconds off your best. The turns were sloppy and the exchanges were slow-Jongin, what happened with your rolling start?”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin mutters. He’s tracing patterns with his foot, not meeting any of the others’ gazes. “I’m really sorry, I just…”

“You were completely out of sync,” Chanyeol accuses. He furrows his brows. “You paused. You froze. And then you practically bellyflopped into the water.”

“I know, I know,” Jongin says. The corners of his lips twitch downwards and his eyes well up with tears. “I-I should’ve been concentrating harder. I’m sorry.”

“We could’ve placed-”

“Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo’s voice is quiet, but it’s enough to stop Chanyeol from barrelling on. Jongin looks like he’s going to burst out crying at any moment now, and all Chanyeol’s doing is dumping salt onto a fresh wound. They don’t need any more mood dampeners, not today. “Stop. Not now. We know.”

“Take it easy, all of you.” Their manager, Kim Joonmyun, hands everyone a bottle of sports water, which they accept gratefully. “You’re all frustrated, I understand, but what’s done is done. There’s no point getting angry about something that’s already happened. Rest well tonight and focus only on what’s ahead: your next competition.”

“God,” Jongdae groans, thumping Chanyeol’s back particularly hard. “I’m not looking forward to tomorrow’s headlines. We’re on home ground too. This is going to be a hell of a week.”

Kyungsoo closes his eyes. He can already see tomorrow’s news flashing in front of his eyes. ‘South Korea’s Swim Team Suffers Embarrassing Defeat on Home Turf’. ‘Big Loss for South Korea: Why the Swimming Prides of the Nation Came Last’. There would be speculation and criticism of all kinds of irrelevant things-the relationship between the team, the quality of coaching, the management, the time and effort put into preparation…

The sporting world is unforgiving; the press even more so. They would be ripped apart.

The ride back to Seoul is silent, and perhaps for the best. Chanyeol doesn’t usually get this fired up or angry-heck, he’s one of the most laid-back people Kyungsoo knows, even when Jongdae leaves his smelly underwear and unwashed clothes all over Chanyeol’s bed on laundry day-but once he’s opened that door, it’s best to avoid his wrath. The pressure has gotten to them all: months of intense training and high expectations; four boys carrying the weight of a nation’s hopes and dreams. To fall like that at the last minute would make even the most composed athletes upset.

Kyungsoo sits back, earphones in, watching the buildings, trees, and cars pass him by, just like the years he’d spent in the water had passed him by.

‘Korean Swimming: Dead Before its Birth?’

Kyungsoo curls up in the seat and closes his eyes.

🏊 🏊 🏊 🏊

It’s been fifteen years since Do Kyungsoo, breaststroke specialist on the South Korean men’s medley relay team, started swimming. “It’ll be good for your asthma,” the family doctor had told him, and that had been the start of his love affair with the water.

Water is peaceful. It doesn’t discriminate. It envelopes, muffling the sounds of the outside world, creating a universe where you can get lost in yourself. Kyungsoo had always been a quiet kid, so this suited him just right.

But, Kyungsoo quickly caught wind, the difference between swimming and every other sport, is that it’s lonely.

It’s peaceful, but lonely, a single person in two and a half million litres of water, fighting to stay afloat and reach the other end. His older brother Seungsoo had joined the middle school basketball team, surrounded by friends and crowds to cheer him on, and Kyungsoo practised day in, day out, doing lap after lap after lap, alone.

While Kyungsoo is by no means loud or extroverted, the silence had, sometimes, been too much.

“What’s the most important thing about sports?” Seungsoo had asked one day, after his team had scored a crushing victory over Teikou, a middle school team from Japan who had flown to Korea for a series of practise matches.

Kyungsoo had shrugged. “Practise?”

Seungsoo laughed. “Well, yes, that’s important too. But you know what? I think teamwork is more important. My team wouldn’t have been able to win today if we didn’t work together.”

“Teamwork,” Kyungsoo deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. That’s nice and all, but… “Hyung, you know that swimming doesn’t have teams, right?”

“What?” Seungsoo laughed and flicked Kyungsoo’s forehead. “Of course you do. There’s a medley relay, isn’t there? You should join the school swim club and give it a go. You’d probably make a lot of friends there.”

His brother’s words stuck. Kyungsoo signed up for his school swim squad the day after, insisting on being in the relay team. Suddenly, the lonely pool wasn’t so lonely or quiet anymore, with a group of people waiting for him at the other end to pull him out and yell encouraging words during practise. Their middle school had made it all the way to nationals, with Kyungsoo the fastest there, and he’d been scouted for the national junior team. It was there he met Chanyeol and Jongdae, and they’d instantly clicked.

“Swim in the medley relay with me,” Kyungsoo had requested. Jongdae was a backstroker, the fastest in the squad, and Chanyeol’s butterfly cut through the water in ways Kyungsoo’s breaststroke never would.

“I was just thinking about that.” Chanyeol grinned, dragging Jongdae into a headlock and chortling when he started choking. “We’d get our own coach and own dorm, too. Although, I’m not sure about living with this one…”

“Look who’s talking.” Jongdae jabbed Chanyeol in the ribs, hard. “The one who has a collection of rainbow speedos.”

Even with an incomplete team, rotating through freestyle swimmers more often than Chanyeol changed his underpants, they smashed records. It was rare for a junior team to keep the same lineup when they transitioned over to the national squad, but there they were, Park Chanyeol, Kim Jongdae, and Do Kyungsoo, the three pillars of the medley relay.

Kim Jongin, one year their junior, was matched up with them six months before the Asia Games.

“He’ll stay in the individual dorms,” Joonmyun had explained. “But I expect you to work as a team, alright? Try to sync with each other. Understand each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and train around that.”

Jongin was a hard worker. He came to all the practises, staying in the pool on his own much later than the other freestylers in the team had ever done. He was fast, and a quick learner-but, Kyungsoo, noticed, not completely with the other three.

Just another freestyler to their three-man team.

🏊 🏊 🏊 🏊

“Take the rest of the week off,” Minseok says as they pull into the bus depot. “You’ve worked hard these past few months. You should all give your bodies a rest, and come back refreshed on Monday.”

“That, and the training centre will be teeming with reporters the next few days,” Joonmyun adds dryly. He tugs at his hideous green jumper-who even wears a jumper in summer?-and flashes a smile. “Remember to drink lots of water!”

Chanyeol, still in one of his moods, stalks out of the bus wordlessly. Jongdae follows behind, turning around to shrug his shoulders and pull a funny face at Kyungsoo. “We’ll meet you back at the dorm,” he mouths at Kyungsoo, then points at a sleeping Jongin. “Take care of the kid.”

The corners of Kyungsoo’s lips twitch into a smile. “Okay,” he mouths back, waving Jongdae off. He turns to the figure sleeping in the seat opposite him.

“Hey. Jongin. Jongin-ah. Wake up. We’re here.”

Jongin mumbles something, shifting to turn away from Kyungsoo, before he jerks sharply and winces. “Hyung,” he grunts, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and muffling a yawn. “Hey. We here?”

“Time to get off the bus, sleepyhead.” Kyungsoo grabs Jongin’s rucksack and stands up. Jongin hesitates, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey. Don’t think too much. Chanyeol’s just frustrated. He’ll be back to normal and cracking those dumb dick jokes of his again in no time.”

Jongin laughs, then shakes his head. “No, it was my fault. I let you all down, and I’m sorry.” He takes his bag from Kyungsoo’s hands and gives him a pat on the arm, moving past Kyungsoo to the front door of the bus. “But it’s okay. I made up my mind today. You won’t have to put up with my slow exchanges for much longer.”

Kyungsoo frowns. Made up his mind? About what? “What does that mean? Jongin, what are you talking about?”

Jongin simply smiles ruefully and gives Kyungsoo a wave. “Nothing. Get some rest. See you Monday, hyung.”

And with that, he steps out of the bus, leaving behind a very confused Kyungsoo.

🏊 🏊 🏊 🏊

Kyungsoo comes back to Chanyeol sprawled out on the sofa-and Jongdae’s mouth around Chanyeol’s dick.

“Jesus,” Kyungsoo exclaims, picking up a cushion and throwing it at Jongdae’s head. Jongdae rolls his eyes and wipes his mouth, hurling the cushion back at Kyungsoo’s face. “I know we just swam what was possibly the worst race of our lives, but this is taking pityfucking to a sad degree.”

“It’s not a pityfuck if we’re both moping,” Jongdae shoots back. “And not like you complained much last time we were beaten by the junior team and I sucked you off against the front door,” he drawls. Kyungsoo shoots him an exasperated glare. “What?”

“Well,” Kyungsoo says, sinking down onto the couch next to Chanyeol, “if it’s going to cool Chanyeol down, I’m not complaining.”

“On the contrary,” Jongdae says, sliding Chanyeol’s cock out with a plop and replacing his mouth with a slickly-lubed hand, “I think I’m getting him hotter than ever. Isn’t that right, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol lets out a grunt, which quickly turns into a keen as Jongdae flicks the tip of his tongue across the head of Chanyeol’s cock multiple times in quick succession. “Yeah, I-shit, Jongdae-”

It’s been like this for a while-this strange teammates-with-benefits situation-ever since they were upgraded to regulars on the national team. A group of hormonal young adults facing extreme stress and pressure tend not to make the most rational of decisions, and hey, if it helps to take the pressure off the gruelling competitions and strenuous practises, anything is worth it. Plus, both Chanyeol and Jongdae give great head, and Kyungsoo’s been told he’s not bad either, if Chanyeol’s incoherent moans and curses are anything to go by.

Kyungsoo would normally join in at this point, undo the string tie of his track pants and slide his cock into Chanyeol’s open mouth, make Chanyeol suck him until he came down Chanyeol’s throat in thick strings, but today has been… Rough.

That, and Jongin’s strange parting words are still stuck in his mind-much like the way Chanyeol’s come is stuck to Jongdae’s cheek right now.

“Gross,” Kyungsoo says, bending down to wipe the spunk off Jongdae’s face. “Hey, Yeol, you almost made Jongin cry today, you know?”

“Not now,” Chanyeol moans, thighs still tensed. “Holy shit, Soo, I know I shouldn’t have flared up at him like that, and I feel like shit for it, but are you really going to give me a lecture while-” Jongdae puts his lips back on Chanyeol’s sensitive dick, and Chanyeol whacks Kyungsoo in the face, fingers scrabbling against the sofa cushions, trying to find purchase.

“Ow!” Kyungsoo holds his nose and punches Chanyeol in the arm, hard. “As long as you know. Bastard.”

“Never kick a puppy when he’s down,” Jongdae says wisely, words muffled as he licks the underside of Chanyeol’s cock. “That’s animal cruelty, Chanyeol.”

“I’m going to bed,” Kyungsoo announces, standing up and shooting his teammates the dirtiest look he can muster. His nose stings. Jongdae waves cheerily in his direction, mouth now connected to Chanyeol’s balls, and Chanyeol lets out a gasp, lying down so his long limbs are draping over the sofa cushions, Jongdae shifting from his place on the floor to the space between Chanyeol’s thighs. “I hope you bite his dick off,” Kyungsoo mutters darkly, “horny little shits.”

🏊 🏊 🏊

Jongin turns up on Monday an hour into practise, not in his usual swim gear, but regular clothes-complete with bandages around his shoulder and waist.

“What the fuck,” Chanyeol says, ripping the swimming cap off his head. He’s breathing hard from the laps he’d just completed. Kyungsoo pulls up next to him, a dreadful realisation settling over him. “Jongin, what happened?”

Jongin gives one of his little smiles. “Hey, hyung. Sorry I’m late.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” Jongdae, who’s just pulled up at the end of the pool, sounds alarmed. By this stage, Minseok is jogging up the length of the pool, with Joonmyun following close behind.

“Jongin!” Minseok sweeps his eyes up and down Jongin, frowning at the bandages. “You’re injured? When did this happen?”

“Two weeks ago.” Jongin’s voice is quiet.

There’s a heavy silence.

“That was… before the Asia Games,” Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo can see the gears in Chanyeol’s brain whirring, working at lightning speed to piece it together. The missing piece of the puzzle clicks into place. “Jongin, were you swimming in the relay while injured?”

Jongin grits his teeth. “Yeah. Sorry, hyung, it was a selfish decision. I should’ve told you all sooner and gotten subbed out, but…” His voice wavers. “I thought I could do it. Power through it with sheer force of will, you know? I really wanted to represent the country, but in the end, I just let everyone down.”

Even Joonmyun, meticulously organised Joonmyun-Joonmyun, who knows everything from their body fat percentage to their favourite pair of underwear-is as white as a sheet. It seems like no one except Kyungsoo had a clue. Jongin is exactly that type-the type not to tell his coach, his manager, his teammates, about his worries, his injuries, about anything.

“I overstrained my shoulder ligaments before heats and the finals made it worse. The physiotherapist says I should take a break for a couple of months and focus on recovery.”

“Does that mean…” Chanyeol gulps, running a hand through wet hair. They’re no strangers to teammates leaving them, but… “Does that mean you’re leaving the relay team?”

“He’ll have to,” Jongdae mutters. “The next championships are in three months. There’s not enough time to recover and get back into practise in three months if he’s out of action until next year.”

“Yeah.” Jongin forces out a laugh. He shrugs, then winces as he clutches his shoulder. “Look, relays aren’t my forte, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Joonmyun-hyung will be able to find someone who fits in better.”

“I…” Chanyeol bits his lower lip. “Hey, Jongin, I’m sorry for shouting at you like that the other day. I had no idea-god, now I feel like an idiot for not noticing-”

“Jongin.” Joonmyun interrupts. “You have to tell us these things. I’m… not going to harp on about it, because what’s done is done, but you owe the team that much. I’ll have to let the board know and make arrangements for you and the team. Let’s have a chat.”

Jongin turns to Chanyeol, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo, bowing his head. “Sorry. Good luck with everything.”

“Coach,” Joonmyun says, motioning to Minseok. “Come with us for a moment.”

“Do laps for a while, okay?” Minseok instructs, turning to follow Joonmyun and Jongin up the stairs.

“Well,” Jongdae says, when it’s just the three of them left in the pool. None of them move to follow Minseok’s instructions. “It’s been a hell of a year.”

Kyungsoo rubs his temples. “You don’t say.” They’d already had to deal with Chanyeol’s injuries earlier this year, and just when they thought they’d be able to recover from that setback…

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us,” Chanyeol moans. “What was he thinking, swimming with an injury? Doesn’t he know he could injure himself beyond recovery?”

“You did the same thing,” Kyungsoo mutters, raising an eyebrow. “He’s just learning bad habits from his respected seniors.”

“Ugh,” Chanyeol grunts. “Shut up. I need a drink.”

“You stay away from the alcohol,” Jongdae says, splashing Chanyeol gently. “Last time you had too much to drink, you stripped, threw up in the hallway, then sat naked on the toilet hugging yourself while yelling ‘NOBODY LOOK AT ME!’”

“If I don’t remember it,” Chanyeol yelps, blocking his ears, “it never happened!”

“What happened to doing laps?” Kyungsoo reminds, grabbing Chanyeol by the neck and dragging him down into the water. “Come on, children.”

“You’re so violent.” Jongdae snorts as Chanyeol flails and gurgles in the water. “No complaints though.”

“Losing one teammate wasn’t enough, and now you want to drown him?” a voice says from behind them, and Kyungsoo turns his head to see Minseok standing at the edge of the pool, an eyebrow raised. “Hey. You all good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chanyeol splutters, coughing as Kyungsoo finally releases the pressure on his neck. “Just wonderful.”

Minseok gives him a weird look and crosses his arms. “So. We had a talk, and there’s bound to be media running all over the place now, now that Jongin’s out of the team to focus on therapy. It won’t do any of you good to face unnecessary stress, with the Korea National Games coming up.”

“So?” Jongdae takes his goggles off, shaking the water out of his hair. “What do we do?”

“So,” Minseok says. “You can get out of the pool now. None of you will be in the right mindset to practise today. Joonmyun and I are sending you out of the city for a while.”

“Out of Seoul?” Kyungsoo blinks. “Where?”

“Anywhere, Kyungsoo,” Minseok says, voice tinged with amusement. “I’m telling you to take a holiday. It won’t do you any good to train when you’re in a slump. Clear your mind and come back when you’re all calm and focused.”

“But…” Chanyeol frowns as he hoists himself out of the pool. “What about our next race? We can’t do a medley relay with three swimmers.”

“What do you think Joonmyun and I hang around half-naked guys all day for?” Jongdae sniggers and Minseok shoots him an exasperated look. “We’ll find someone from the individual squad who’s willing to give up some personal practise time to train with you guys. Now go get changed.”

Sometimes, Kyungsoo thinks as he dries himself off, no matter how strong three pillars are, it’s not enough to support the weight of an entire nation.

They need a fourth pillar to complete the set.

🏊 🏊 🏊

“When are you coming?”

“Tomorrow.”

Chanyeol, always pumped up about swimming, had departed last night to California to challenge the beach currents. Jongdae was off to explore Jeju with his family. Not one for extravagant vacations, Kyungsoo had opted to go back to his hometown and spend a quiet week there while Minseok and Joonmyun sorted things out. “Is that okay, hyung?”

Kyungsoo hasn’t been back to his hometown since he’d moved to Seoul to focus on competitive swimming six years ago. It’s about time he spends some time with them, anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone.

“Yeah, should be-hey, Jeongah, don’t put that in your mouth, no, put it down-sorry, Jeongah’s being difficult again, but we can get the guest room ready for you.” Seungsoo sighs heavily. “Hey, you think you can look after Jeongah and Jeongmin on Friday? The babysitter can’t make it. I promise they won’t give you too much grief.”

Children, Kyungsoo thinks, gritting his teeth, are vile, soul-sucking, energy-leeching creatures from the depths of hell-but one day with his niece and nephew wouldn’t hurt. “I guess. But only for one day.”

This is how Kyungsoo ends up in the bleachers of a local swimming festival, a cap low over his eyes, while his niece and nephew run amok in swimsuits. Being a nationally-ranked swimmer, apparently, is enough reason for the two kids to insist on him accompanying them to the pool so they can show him off to their friends.

“I don’t know why I agreed,” Kyungsoo bemoans to a cackling Jongdae over the phone. Down below, Jeongah and Jeongmin get onto their starting block, preparing to dive for the 100m freestyle. “I came here to get away from swimming, and this is what they make me do?”

“Don’t be such a grumpypants, Do Kyungsoo,” Jongdae chides. “Maybe this fulfilling life experience will make you a more pleasant person.”

“I’m plenty pleasant,” Kyungsoo grumbles, pulling his cap lower. The starting gun fires, and the racers dive into the water. “I’m in so much pain here. Whatever. Enjoy Jeju, asshole, I’ll see you back in Seoul.”

The Bucheon Swimfest is Gyeonggi’s largest local swimming festival, held during the middle of autumn, where kids and adults alike compete in friendly competitions and chat with the other locals. On the opposite spectator stands, Kyungsoo can see a group of elderly people in plastic visors, holding up banners, cheering for the ongoing race. There are teenage kids in uniform running around, having just finished classes for the day and no doubt skipping after-school coaching to have some fun in the water before they have to buckle down for final exams. Staff are walking around the bleachers with trays of drinks and ice-blocks strapped to their necks, and near the edges of the pool, rows of kindergarten-aged kids are sitting, dangling their legs into the unused lane.

It’s not a bad atmosphere, truthfully. Kyungsoo relaxes, clapping along with the rest of the spectators when Jeongah pulls in first. Everyone here seems to be enjoying themselves, a one-eighty from the tense atmosphere and dragged-out silences of official competitions. It’s refreshing, and reminds Kyungsoo of his childhood feelings, of the fundamental joy of swimming, before that had been dampened with duty.

“Excuse me…”

There’s a girl of about five standing to Kyungsoo’s right. Kyungsoo blinks, looking behind him, then pointing at himself. The girl nods and flushes red.

“Excuse me, but are you Do Kyungsoo? Our national relay team’s breaststroke swimmer?”

“Uh…” People are turning around and looking in his direction now. He pulls his hoodie cap over his hat and shades his face with a hand. “Sorry, you must have the wrong-”

“Yejin! Come back, what are you do-oh!” A middle-aged woman, the girl’s mother, Kyungsoo presumes, stops in her tracks when she catches a glimpse of Kyungsoo’s face. “You’re…”

Yejin runs back to her mother. “Mummy, that’s Do Kyungsoo, right? The one we saw on TV the other day?” By now, the crowds around Kyungsoo are murmuring, looking up at him curiously. “Remember? His team placed last!”

Ouch. Kyungsoo grimaces, and Yejin’s mother looks visibly flustered. “I’m-I’m sorry, please ignore her-come on Yejin, leave him alone, we’re going back.”

The girl and her mother leave, but the attention has already been diverted to him: national athlete, Do Kyungsoo, at a modest local swimming event. Kyungsoo can see people fumbling around in their backpacks for paper and a pen, ready to ask for an autograph or something of the like, and he groans internally. He should’ve worn that Doraemon mask like Chanyeol had suggested.

“Why did Kim Jongin quit the relay team?”

Kyungsoo blanches, turning to see a group of middle-school boys gathered close by. They’re all wearing swimsuits, towels wrapped around their shoulders-swimmers in today’s event, no doubt. The boy at the front cocks his head to the side and puts his hands on his hips.

“We saw the news last week. Is he injured?”

“Who’s your new freestyle swimmer?”

“What about the FINA Championships? Are you gonna swim there?”

The interrogative questions swim around in Kyungsoo head, disorientating, and he grits his teeth. Heck, it’s not like he knows the answers to half of them himself. He’s here on holiday, damn it, not to deal with shit like this. “Excuse me,” he mutters, standing up and walking away from the gathering crowd.

Jeongah and Jeongmin are walking up the bleacher stairs, having just changed out of their swimsuits, brightly-coloured towels slung over their shoulders. Kyungsoo waves them over to the entrance, heart heavy.

“Sorry, Jeongah, Jeongmin, uncle’s not feeling well. We’re going home.”

🏊 🏊 🏊

“Where did you leave it?”

“The changerooms, I think…” Jeongah drags Kyungsoo by the hand until they’re in front of the entrance to the pool changerooms. It’s been an hour since the festival has ended, but here Kyungsoo is, back again, because Jeongah’s left her swimming cap and goggles behind. “Sorry, uncle, I’ll be quick!”

Kyungsoo can’t blame Jeongah for this, really-it was him who’d dragged the two kids back home without a second word because he’d been shaken by the gathering crowd. At least now, the pool is empty, and there’s no one around to bother him about upcoming championships or ask nosy questions about injuries and future plans and things that Kyungsoo’s not ready to deal with.

The golden rays of sunlight hit the pool water, giving off a brilliant shine as they reflect off the gentle ripples made by the wind. Kyungsoo leans against the walls of the complex while he waits, watching as the breeze skirts across the pool surface. Open-air pools have a certain charm to them, one that the enclosed indoor Olympic pools lack. It would be nice to have a dip in the empty pool, completely unseen, pressure free.

Something moves in the water. Kyungsoo squints, shading his eyes. He didn’t notice it before, but it’s obvious now, the shadowy figure in the swimming pool, heading in Kyungsoo’s direction.

The figure is…fast.

Kyungsoo watches as the figure pulls closer and closer, closing in at a rapid speed. It doesn’t look like any of the kids who were fooling around in the pool earlier-the way he swims is too explosive for that age. It’s a man, probably in his late teens or early twenties.

The figure hits the edge of the pool, tumbling into a turn, and Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker to the large stadium clock opposite him.

16:25:16.

The man’s pushes off, arms pulling his body through the water, and Kyungsoo follows, inadvertently holding his breath. He’s seen plenty of swimmers in his time, from the junior squads and national squads, yet none of them have that same…rawness and spark that he’s seeing now. It’s not a perfect form-the swimmer’s elbows are coming out from the water at the wrong angle, and he’s turning his head too far on his breath intake-but the way this man swims is full of feeling.

A tumble turn. Heading back towards Kyungsoo at full speed. Rough, unpolished, but…

16:26:04.

100 metres in forty-eight seconds.

Kyungsoo breaks into a cold sweat.

The man’s stands up in the water, panting, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the water out of his eyes. He’s not wearing goggles or a swimming cap, Kyungsoo notes, and he’s in a pair of billowing board shorts that are definitely not optimal for reducing hydrodynamic drag.

With some refinement…

Kyungsoo finds himself walking up to the edge of the pool and extending a hand.

The man looks at said hand, eyebrows furrowing. “Er, can I help you?”

Kyungsoo clears his throat in embarrassment. He retracts his hand, wiping it on his pants. This is possibly one of the more stupidly spontaneous things he’s done, and Minseok might shout at him, but… it’s nothing compared to some of the shit Chanyeol and Jongdae get up to. Plus, they do need a freestyle swimmer, and this man had come within two seconds of the world record in a local pool.

“Hi, um,” Kyungsoo starts. The man looks up at Kyungsoo’s face, and narrows his eyes, expression unreadable. “Hey, I saw you swimming. I’m Do Kyungsoo, nice to meet you.”

A look of recognition flickers across the man’s face, and his face softens. “Do Kyungsoo. You’re a swimmer on the national relay team.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Now that Kyungsoo’s closer, he can really see the details he’d missed while watching from afar. The man’s not much taller than Kyungsoo, and he has a slim frame, but he’s not lanky-Kyungsoo can see toned abs, obliques, and pectorals tightening as the man reaches upwards to stretch his shoulders. Slim, but built; a swimmer’s body, one that could only be shaped from hours and hours in the water. This man is serious about swimming. Kyungsoo feels himself relax a fraction. Maybe it’s not as absurd an idea as it seems. “I was just wondering… are you trying out for the national team by any chance?”

The man frowns. “National team? You mean, the national swimming squad?” Kyungsoo nods. “Who, me?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “You’re fast. You could do it.”

The man’s eyes cloud over, and he gives a small smile. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t timed myself for years.” He has really nice eyes, Kyungsoo notes, sad-looking, downturned eyes. “I’m not cut out to be on a national team.”

Familiar words. Too familiar. Kyungsoo’s thrown back to summer of 2011, when he’d first qualified for the national team, no longer a junior member. There had never been a time when the water had felt so heavy before, more like a constricting, suffocating quagmire than the freedom he’d always been searching for. What had pulled him out were his teammates-Chanyeol and Jongdae, who’d supported him during his worst slumps, lifting him up until he found the confidence to cut through the water again.

“I thought that too,” Kyungsoo blurts out. The man looks at him, somewhat alarmed at his sudden outburst. Kyungsoo clears his throat. “I mean, we all go through these moments. But you never know until you try, right?” He scratches his head. “Actually, we’re looking for a fourth member. For the medley relay. Our freestyler’s injured, and we need one more to make a team. What do you say to trying out?”

For a moment, Kyungsoo thinks he’s managed to convince the man, because just for a split second, there’s an intense, hopeful look beaconing off his face, but the reticent look is soon back. “I’m-I’m honoured, really, but…” The man bites his lip. “I don’t do competitive swimming.”

There’s a long pause. The man’s fidgeting, looking visibly troubled. It’s like he’s forcibly holding himself back, trying to contain himself, for whatever reason, Kyungsoo doesn’t know, but…

Kyungsoo can feel that he loves the water. It’s the way that his fingers are still skimming the water surface, the way he’s swaying with the flow of the water. He wants to swim.

“Okay.” Kyungsoo stands up, fishing inside Jeongah’s bag. There’s no point pressing. The man will come to his own conclusions. “Give me your arm. Please.”

“My arm?” Kyungsoo nods, pulling out a waterproof marker. The man looks apprehensive, but extends his right arm, and Kyungsoo wipes the water away before scribbling something on it.

“My phone number,” Kyungsoo announces, capping the marker. He looks down at the man in the water, who’s staring at his own arm with an amused grin spreading over his face, and chuckles sheepishly. “The offer still stands. Call me if you change your mind.”

The man smirks. “I can’t believe it,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “Is Do Kyungsoo, national athlete, pulling a Carly Rae Jepsen on me?”

Before Kyungsoo can give his answer, Jeongah comes barrelling out of the changerooms, waving her goggles and swimming cap. “Uncle, I found it!” she hollers, running up to Kyungsoo. “The nice aunties at the counter looked in lost property for me.”

“I gotta go,” Kyungsoo says, taking Jeongah’s hand. Jeongah tugs on Kyungsoo’s hand, heading in the direction of the parking lot. “Call me!”

Kyungsoo’s almost out of the pool complex when a voice rings out.

“Kyungsoo-sshi!”

The man’s leaning on the edge of the pool, arms crossed on the ledge. He waves a hand. “You give me your phone number and you don’t even ask for a name?”

Kyungsoo flushes. In his excitement, he’d completely forgotten that crucial detail. He turns around, scratching the back of his neck. “Right. Your name-”

“-is Baekhyun,” the man finishes, eyes twinkling. He has a warm smile. “My name is Byun Baekhyun.”

🏊 🏊 🏊

Oh Sehun is tall, lean-and not made for sprints.

“Fifty seconds twenty-two,” Minseok shouts, eyes on the display. Next to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol groans audibly, then tries to stifle it with a cough. “Bit slow on the second lap, Sehun, make sure you speed up your kicks in the last fifty metres and pull through fully with your arms.”

“Yes sir,” Sehun says, obediently gearing up for another lap.

“He’s too used to long-distance,” Jongdae mutters, watching Sehun swim back and forth, long limbs slicing through the water with gazelle grace. “He usually swims the 1500m and the 10km. One of those open-water marathon types.”

“But no one else would join the team,” Chanyeol gripes. He frowns. “All they want to do is improve their own individual records. Park Taehwan refused because he wanted to focus on the 400m free, and he’s the fastest in the squad. Sehun only joined because his marathon coach told him he needed to improve his short-twitch muscle function for a power-up in the last stretch of the 1500. They all think we’re a waste of time.”

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo mutters, getting up as Minseok motions for them to join Sehun in the water, “but he’s all we have right now.”

“You all feeling better?” Joonmyun asks, holding his trusty red clipboard. Jongdae flashes Joonmyun a grin and gives him a thumbs up. “Excellent, it’s back to training. I see you’ve all met Oh Sehun? Unfortunately, he still has individual training for the marathon, but he’ll be training with you once a week, Sehun, this is Kyungsoo, Jongdae, and Chanyeol.”

“Hey,” Sehun says, giving a wave. “I’ve heard things about you guys.”

“Bet you didn’t hear about how handsome I am,” Chanyeol jibes, a toothy grin on his face as he flexes his arms, biceps bulging. Jongdae rolls his eyes and Kyungsoo whacks Chanyeol in the face. “Ow! What was that for?”

“It’s nice to have you on the team,” Kyungsoo says, pointedly ignoring a grumbling Chanyeol. He extends his hand for a handshake. “We look forward to swimming with you.”

“Me too,” Sehun replies, taking Kyungsoo’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Sorry,” Joonmyun mutters to the three regulars when Sehun turns back and heads towards the pool. “I tried to find someone with a faster 100m record, but none of them were interested in dedicating time to train for the relay. I’ll keep looking, but train with him for now.”

“It would be nice to have someone with a faster short-distance record,” Jongdae muses. “Don’t get me wrong, Sehun seems like a nice kid, but he hasn’t gone below fifty seconds today.”

Someone faster.

Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo frowns, shaking his head. It’s been a week since he’d met Byun Baekhyun at that festival in Bucheon, and he hasn’t heard a peep. Nada. Not even a text. If Baekhyun hasn’t called by now, he’s probably not interested.

And yet…

“What if…” Kyungsoo licks his lips. “What if I told you I found a guy who could swim the 100 free in forty-eight seconds?”

Chanyeol stares at him, narrowing his eyes. “From the national team? We’ve tried them all, they’re not interested.”

“No, no…” Kyungsoo shrugs. “I don’t think he’s a professional. I met him when I was taking my niece and nephew to a festival. It’s hard to explain, but he’s… fast. Really fast.”

“Does he want to join the team?” Jongdae sounds hopeful. He turns to Joonmyun, who’s looking at Kyungsoo contemplatively. “Hyung, can Kyungsoo’s friend swim with us?”

“He’s not exactly my friend…” Kyungsoo mutters under his breath, but nobody hears him, too excited about the prospect of this mysterious swimming genius.

“I’m just thinking…” Joonmyun purses his lips. “I mean, he’ll have to come in for a time qualifier and drug test, standard stuff, but if he makes forty-eight seconds consistently, then… I don’t see why not.”

“Well?” Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo by the shoulders, gripping tightly. Kyungsoo smiles tightly, slapping the offending hands away. “Go on! Call him in!”

“About that…” Kyungsoo says, chuckling nervously. “Um. I kind of. Only met him the other day. I gave him my number. I don’t have his.”

There’s a long silence. Jongdae groans and facepalms.

“You’re an idiot, Do Kyungsoo.”

🏊 🏊 🏊

“Should’ve gotten his number,” Chanyeol remarks, fingers digging into Kyungsoo’s thighs as he arches his back. “If it was me, I would’ve gotten it, easy.”

Kyungsoo whacks Chanyeol on the chest, hitching Chanyeol’s legs over his shoulders and sliding a lube-slicked finger into Chanyeol’s entrance particularly roughly. “Don’t you dare say-”

“He’d have been begging for my number. I would’ve charmed the pants off him.” Chanyeol groans as he finishes his sentence, clenching around Kyungsoo’s fingers. Kyungsoo grunts, and Jongdae steadies him from behind, watching in amusement as Kyungsoo’s expression turns murderous. “Not that it would’ve been hard, you know, considering swimmers are already half naked-”

“Park Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says between gritted teeth. “Shut up. You are ruining the mood. Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and makes a zipping motion across his mouth. “Fire away, soldier.”

“God,” Kyungsoo mutters, sliding his fingers out and replacing them with his cock. Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s hips and pulls Kyungsoo towards him, sliding Kyungsoo’s cock in all the way to the base. He clenches tightly, once, and Kyungsoo swears he sees stars. “You are incorrigible.”

“Takes one to know one,” Chanyeol retorts. Kyungsoo scowls and thrusts in, relishing the way Chanyeol yelps in repentance. Jongdae crawls up besides Chanyeol, kneeling next to his head and sliding a cock into Chanyeol’s open mouth. Chanyeol sucks greedily, lapping at the head of Jongdae’s cock, precome smearing across his lips.

“You know,” Jongdae says, running his fingers through Chanyeol’s mussed-up hair, “for once in my life, I agree with Yeol.” Chanyeol raises his hand and gives Jongdae a high-five, mouth still bobbing around the base of Jongdae’s dick. “Not about the pants part, that’s just him being a cockslut. You really should’ve asked for this dude’s number.”

“You too?” Kyungsoo’s voice goes high as he rocks his hips, setting a rhythm and pistoning into Chanyeol. Chanyeol lets out a muffled keening sound, Jongdae’s cock still sliding in and out of his mouth in smooth glides. Kyungsoo leans over Chanyeol’s body, grabbing Chanyeol by the wrists and pinning them to the mattress as he thrusts in deeper, faster, harder. “Fuck, it’s not like you two found anyone while you were gallivanting around in California and Jeju.”

Chanyeol makes a sound of protest, choking and gagging around Jongdae’s dick as he tries to speak. Jongdae throws his head forward, taken off guard by the sudden pressure, and groans as he pulls out of Chanyeol’s mouth right before he comes all over Chanyeol’s face.

“And that’s what you get for trying to talk shit about me,” Kyungsoo says, eyebrow raised.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol gripes. Kyungsoo lets go of Chanyeol’s wrists, reaching to stroke Chanyeol’s cock, and Chanyeol reaches up to punch Jongdae’s leg. “You could’ve given me some warning, asshole.”

“You were the one who tried to talk around my dick,” Jongdae retorts, wiping Chanyeol’s face with a tissue. “Anyway. Kyungsoo-yah, you haven’t even told us this guy’s name.”

“It’s-” Kyungsoo squeezes Chanyeol’s cock, thrusting shallowly into Chanyeol’s ass. “Baekhyun. His name’s Byun Baekhyun.”

“Byun Baekhyun.” Jongdae tries the name out, humming in approval. “And how old is this Byun Baekhyun?” Jongdae’s lying on his side on the bed now, head propped up on his elbow as he watches Kyungsoo fuck Chanyeol disinterestedly. “Kyungsoo, I’m asking-”

“How the fuck would I know?” Kyungsoo growls out.

“The optimal age for a swimming athlete is between sixteen and twenty-six,” Jongdae says wisely, smug grin on his face. “These are things we have to think about, Kyungsoo-yah-”

“I will fuck your face up,” Kyungsoo threatens. Chanyeol beneath him has his eyes closed, and his hands are curled into fists around the bedsheets. “Let me-let me finish here, okay, Jongdae? We don’t have all day-”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol breathes out. “You’re taking your sweet time today, Soo. Maybe you’re getting old. Soo-gramps.”

Kyungsoo pulls out completely, and Chanyeol opens his eyes. “Fucker. Turn over.”

“I’m-”

“Turn over.”

Chanyeol gapes, opening and shutting his mouth, then decides to obey, getting on all fours, backside displayed for the whole room to see. Kyungsoo smacks Chanyeol’s ass, then positions himself behind Chanyeol and slides in again.

“Kyungsoo-”

“Don’t talk.” Kyungsoo’s temper is short, particularly so when he’s on the brink of orgasm but his fucking teammates keep on talking to him. He ruts in, harder, tensing his thighs and putting his entire bodyweight behind his movement. The heat pools in his stomach, pressure building, and he’s close, just a couple-just a couple more…

Kyungsoo grabs the back of Chanyeol’s thighs and digs his nails in. Chanyeol gasps, tightening subconsciously, and there, that’s it, Kyungsoo comes, waves after waves of pleasure surging through his entire body.

“You can talk now.” Kyungsoo climbs off the bed, legs shaking. Jongdae watches him lazily as he peels the condom off, tying it into a knot and chucking it into the wastebin. “God. You shitheads are the most unromantic bunch of people I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.”

“Whatever,” Chanyeol says, panting. He strokes himself off, eyes closed, biting his lower lip as he spills all over his hand. He collapses on the bed next to Jongdae, spent. “We get the job done.”

“Shove.” Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol over and lies down next to him, curling up. The post-coital sleepiness is hitting them all, and they lie there, sticky but satiated, until Jongdae shifts positions, sitting up.

“Is that…” Jongdae cocks his head. “Vibrating? I hear something vibrating.”

“Did you leave your vibrator on again…?” Chanyeol asks, words slurred from sleep. “Joooongdaeeee-”

“Oi, Kyungsoo, is that your phone?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes fly open, and he lunges for the bedside table, where his phone is buzzing on the hardwood. He doesn’t know why his first reaction was to think Baekhyun-it could be Minseok, Joonmyun, his mother, the bank, anyone, but Kyungsoo’s heart is racing. He fumbles, dropping the phone, before putting it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hi,” a voice greets back, carrying an accent that Kyungsoo remembers vividly. “Do Kyungsoo-sshi?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, completely awake now. He bats away Chanyeol’s hand, which is reaching around and sliding up his leg playfully. “Baekhyun-sshi? Is that you?”

The voice chuckles. “Yeah, it’s Baekhyun. I’m sorry for calling so late. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s, uh…” Kyungsoo looks down at himself in all his naked glory and presses his lips together. “It’s fine.” Chanyeol’s moved so that he’s resting on his belly now, resting his chin on folded arms and looking up Kyungsoo. Jongdae’s twisted around too, legs dangling off the edge of the bed, a similarly curious expression on his face. ‘Is that Baekhyun?’ he mouths, and Kyungsoo nods. “How’ve you been? Have you thought about what I asked?”

“Actually,” Baekhyun admits, “I was hoping you wouldn’t answer so I could still back out.” His tone suddenly changes, voice going high-pitched and panicky. “Wait, are you still-am I too late-”

“Tomorrow,” Kyungsoo blurts out. They have morning training tomorrow, and both Minseok and Joonmyun monitor their morning sessions. The earlier he can bring Baekhyun in to show the coach and manager what Baekhyun can do, the better. “Tomorrow, 6am, at Seoul Sports Complex, Jamshil indoor pool number one. Can you make it?”

The line goes silent. Kyungsoo frowns, taking the phone away from his ear momentarily to check that the call’s still connected.

“Hello? Baekhyun-sshi? You still there?”

“Hey,” Baekhyun says, breathy. “Hey, yeah, you just, um, caught me by surprise. Yeah, I… I think I can make it.”

“Great!” Kyungsoo says. There’s an awkward silence, and Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Um, bring your swimsuit?”

“Well.” Baekhyun sounds amused now, the edginess in his voice mellowing. “I’m not going to swim in front of the national relay team naked now, am I? Unless, of course, you’d prefer that…”

Chanyeol, who’s crawled up and pressed an ear to the other side of the phone to listen in, lets out a bark of laughter. “I like him already,” he crows at Kyungsoo, who bats him away. “Anyone who’s willing to skinny dip in the Olympic pool is in my good books,” he says into the mouthpiece, and Kyungsoo yelps, pushing a sticky, naked Chanyeol away before he can do any more damage.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that,” Kyungsoo says. Baekhyun’s laughing on the other end. That’s a good sign. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up before the others get their hands on my phone now. See you tomorrow!”

“Did we just…” Jongdae furrows his eyebrows, making eye contact with a stunned Kyungsoo. “Did we just summon him by fucking?”

“It was like some kind of satanic ritual,” Chanyeol remarks, clambering back onto the bed and draping himself over Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo can feel Chanyeol’s dick digging into his back, sticky and uncomfortable. “Fuck a bit, chant his name, and et voila.”

“I wonder if he’ll really swim naked tomorrow,” Jongdae ponders. “Well, whatever, he’ll have to get under forty-eight seconds if he wants Minseok’s approval. I hope country-boy is as fast as you say he is.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Chanyeol singsongs. Kyungsoo pulls a face and shoves Chanyeol off, glancing in the direction of the shower. They should wash up and sleep so they can wake up in time for tomorrow’s training. “6am tomorrow, we’ll know if our fourth member is Oh Sehun or Byun Baekhyun.”

🏊 🏊 🏊

47.44.

Kyungsoo gapes, slack-jawed, as the time displays on the board. Next to him, Chanyeol and Jongdae are in similar states of disbelief, eyes fixated on the screen. Even Minseok, who usually shouts out words of encouragement or advice each time one of the regulars finish a set, is speechless, staring at this proclaimed amateur who just recorded a time worthy of an Olympics final line-up.

“Did he just…” Chanyeol blinks, turning his wide-eyed gaze at Kyungsoo. “Make forty-seven seconds? Are my eyes deceiving me? Is this real life?”

“Does this hurt?” Kyungsoo asks, whacking the back of Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol yelps, prompting both Minseok and Joonmyun to look at him, and Kyungsoo shrugs noncommittally. “There’s your answer.”

Baekhyun pants as he clambers out of the pool, hands on his knees, and he shakes the water out of his hair like a wet dog. He’s still not wearing a swimming cap or goggles, and Kyungsoo hides a small grin at Baekhyun’s sopping wet shorts, the same ones that Baekhyun had been wearing that day at the pool.

Honestly, Kyungsoo doubted whether Baekhyun would turn up or not. There was no guarantee, even though they’d agreed last night, that Baekhyun wouldn’t get cold feet and leave them high and dry. Kyungsoo’s call to Baekhyun this morning hadn’t gone through either, and he’d been waiting outside the stadium, scuffing his shoe on the concrete, waiting for that memorable face to turn the corner any minute now. His worries were unfounded, though, as Baekhyun showed up, albeit five minutes late, rambling about a flat battery.

‘Like a drenched sewer rat’ was how Chanyeol described Baekhyun when Chanyeol came out of the changerooms, and Baekhyun was already in the water warming up for his qualification test. “God, he’s so lanky-Kyungsoo, are you sure about him?”

“He’s not even wearing a swimming cap or goggles,” Jongdae had said, rather disdainfully. “And those swim pants look like a skirt. That’s gonna majorly hurt his time. I don’t know about this dude, Kyungsoo…”

Well, Jongdae’s silent now. His jaw is clenched-Kyungsoo hopes he’s eating all his words.

“Byun Baekhyun, you said?” Joonmyun, quietly standing next to Minseok the whole time, marks some things off on his clipboard. Minseok offers a towel to Baekhyun. “Impressive. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two this year,” Baekhyun says, taking the towel. “International age. Born in nineteen ninety-two.”

“Same age as us,” Jongdae mutters. “Damn, and I thought we’d have another young’un to bully.”

“Now you won’t have anyone to assert your superiority over anymore,” Chanyeol says gleefully. “Say your last words, Kim Jongdae.”

“I will skin your ferrets,” Jongdae whispers in the most venomous voice he can muster, and Chanyeol’s laughter quickly subsides.

“Baekhyun-sshi, I want to see how your exchanging skills are,” Minseok says, interrupting. “Hey, you lot, into the water for a quick warm up so we can time a relay round, no more slacking off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jongdae mutters under his breath as he dives into the pool. Kyungsoo follows suit, jumping into the pool, and Chanyeol dive-bombs in right after.

“And you call yourselves national athletes,” Joonmyun chides in disapproval.

Minseok rolls his eyes. “Okay. Two laps easy to start off, focus on your rhythm and breathing, you’ve been away from the water for a while. Two laps building up your tempo-make sure you relax on recovery-and one lap of sprint. No pulling today.”

“Back to proper training now,” Jongdae says solemnly, placing a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and squeezing before ducking under the lane rope to the adjacent lane. He snaps his goggles on, grin on his face. “Stay strong, soldier.”

Kyungsoo closes his eyes, pushes off, and paces himself to his heartbeat. His shoulders are stiff-probably a byproduct of their bedtime activities last night-and he lets out a long breath, gently stretching his joints further and further with every stroke. By the time he’s finished with his warm-up, the others are waiting at the end of the pool, and Jongdae gives his bottom a slap as he clambers out of the water to line up with Chanyeol and Baekhyun behind the diving platform.

“One round, timed.” Minseok walks over to the timer control panel. “Jongdae, you ready?” Jongdae nods, getting into his starting pose, holding the backstroke launch bar. “Let’s go!”

The launch is smooth. Kyungsoo readies himself, plunging into the water when Jongdae’s hands hit the panel. He makes it back, Chanyeol launching himself off, jump gaining more distance than Kyungsoo’s ever seen from Chanyeol.

“Guess he hasn’t been slacking off in California after all,” Jongdae remarks. He helps Kyungsoo out of the water, and Kyungsoo grins, stealing Jongdae’s towel. “Hey!”

“Don’t think too much,” Kyungsoo says to Baekhyun, who’s standing on top of the platform, biting his lower lip. “Your time was incredible.”

“It was?” Baekhyun asks weakly. “I haven’t timed myself since first year of high school.”

Chanyeol charges forward, closing in rapidly. Kyungsoo rests a hand on Baekhyun’s back, giving him an encouraging pat. Baekhyun’s back is sturdy, and he’s grounded, like a pillar. “Thank you for coming today, Baekhyun.”

The tips of Baekhyun’s ears turn red. “Don’t mention it,” he mumbles, crouching down as Chanyeol powers through the last ten metres. “Here I go!”

“Look at that majestic ass,” Jongdae says as Baekhyun dives in, perfectly matching Chanyeol’s panel-touch. “It’s enough to rival Sehun’s booty.”

“Stop perving,” Kyungsoo scolds, helping Chanyeol out, as Baekhyun reaches the other end of the pool and tumble-turns. “We’re deciding the future of our medley relay team here. This is a serious moment.”

“Still,” Jongdae says, draping his arms around both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s shoulders, “you can’t let that stop you from admiring a fine piece of art. Look, here he comes, that ass is approaching…”

Baekhyun slams his hand onto the touch pad. Everyone turns to look at the display.

“3:30.06,” Chanyeol says in awe. “We weren’t even going full power.”

“How did I do?” Baekhyun asks, panting heavily. “Sorry I’m… a bit out of shape. Not at my peak condition.”

“Baekhyun-sshi,” Joonmyun says, very slowly. He closes his trusty clipboard and walks up to the pool, crouching. “How would you like to join the national relay team? Starting today. Can you stay for training?”

Baekhyun gapes, opening and shutting his mouth a couple of times before any sound comes out. “For real?” he asks, voice cracking. He clears his throat. “Um, you’ll let me? I passed?”

“With flying colours,” Minseok says. Baekhyun could probably give unicorn poop a run for its money right now. “What do you say? Training is six days per week, Monday to Saturday. Two three hour sessions in the water separated by two hours of strength training and a lunch break.”

“That was a really great exchange,” Chanyeol says, beaming at a stunned Baekhyun. “I’ve never had someone connect so smoothly with my panel touch.”

“Training is sometimes intense, but…” Kyungsoo squats and puts his hand out so he can pull Baekhyun out of the pool. “We’re here to help out. Will you join us?”

“I…” Baekhyun licks his lips. His gaze flickers between Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Jongdae, Joonmyun, and Minseok, wary again. “This is something out of a dream. I’m just… I’m just an ordinary guy. Not a national athlete. Not like you all.”

“You will be if you say yes.” Chanyeol shrugs. “Seriously. You’re fast. I’m amazed you slipped through the cracks until now.”

“And don’t fret, we don’t bite,” Jongdae adds with a devilish grin. “Well, most of the time.”

“I’ll have to take leave from university,” Baekhyun mutters, in a daze. “My parents are… And I live in Bucheon-”

“If it’s the technicalities you’re worried about,” Joonmyun cuts in, “I’ll handle it. Accommodation, food, transport-there are a lot of perks that come with being on the national team.”

“So?” Kyungsoo’s hand is still extended. Baekhyun’s gaze is focused on it, intense. Kyungsoo has a good feeling about this. “Yes or no?”

Baekhyun clenches his jaw and grasps Kyungsoo’s hand. “I’m in.”

“Aw yeah!” Chanyeol whoops and claps while Jongdae punches the air in excitement. Even Joonmyun is smiling like a proud father, looking ten years older than he really is. “Celebratory dinner tonight! Let’s have barbeque!”

“Welcome to the team, Byun Baekhyun,” Minseok says, patting Baekhyun on the arm fondly and handing him a towel. He looks down at Baekhyun’s drenched fabric shorts and pulls a face. “Now, let’s sort out some proper swimming gear for you before training today, shall we?”

→ PART 2