NHL 17

Dylan, who had been standing blankly for a moment, willingly complied and moved to a stool. The electric kettle made a bubbling sound before soon switching off with a sharp click. Before it, Joeon tightened the waist strap of his bathrobe once more. It was a matter of no small concern.

Soon, two cups of tea, sending up sweet and warm steam, were placed on the table.

“Here. I mixed in some cold water, so it shouldn’t be too hot.”

The cup with the company logo was placed in front of Dylan. It was only because that one was less aged than the others. At the same time, as Joeon set the other cup down across from Dylan, Dylan pointed to the stool next to him with a nod.

“Don’t stand, sit over here. There’s no chair on that side.”

Isn’t it a bit of a strange sight to have two men sitting side by side? A useless thought crossed his mind, but Joeon feared that if he bothered to bring the empty stool from next to Dylan all the way here to sit across from him, it would also look like he was keeping his distance. So, Joeon obediently followed Dylan’s instruction, walked around the table, and sat in the seat next to him.

Even though he tried not to sit too close, Dylan’s shoulders were broad, so their elbows bumped. Eventually, Joeon compromised by placing his left arm on his thigh to avoid him. Noticing this, Dylan deliberately poked Joeon’s left arm.

As Joeon turned his head with a puzzled look, Dylan’s hand pointed with his fingertips at an object lying on the island bar. An object he hadn’t seen before was resting there.

Inside a square transparent plastic case, which seemed to be used for storing commemorative items, sat a round black object. The object, which anyone could see was a puck, had the Polar Bears’ polar bear logo engraved on its rubber surface, and today’s date and Dylan’s signature, scribbled in pure white marker in the empty space, were sparkling dazzlingly.

“…What is this?”

“It’s the puck from the commemorative goal I scored on my first day back.”

“You mean the puck from when Dylan scored a goal earlier?”

“Yes. I asked for it and got it.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Of course. There are plenty of pucks left over at the rink.”

Dylan spoke as if it were no big deal, but Joeon had just heard the praise in a short media interview held right after the first period: that he had “scored an incredibly wonderful goal as soon as he returned from an injury that could have ended his playing career.”

While it couldn’t be compared to a professional debut goal, it was certainly a quite special goal that proved Dylan’s continued capability, just as the interviewer said. It was as if he had personally shattered the negative expectations of those who had been jabbering on about how he might be on a retirement path by discussing the seriousness of his injury.

“I came here today to give this to you.”

Joeon, who had been watching in wonder, hadn’t even imagined it was a gift for him, so he asked, “Pardon?” and expressed his surprise without hiding it.

“It’s a gift for you.”

Stunned into silence, Joeon reached out toward the transparent case and examined the object inside with eyes full of curiosity.

The long, slender fingers that had been wrapping around the mug containing citron tea now carefully stroked the case. Following Joeon’s touch, hazy marks formed on the case, where the chill still remained.

“This, for me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I recovered quickly thanks to you, Joeon.”

“I’m not a doctor, though…”

Dylan leaned his body toward Joeon until their shoulders touched. He whispered like a young child confiding a secret. Joeon drew closer to listen to his words.

“Let’s call it a mental recovery.”

The scent of perfume, resembling the winter wind, mixed softly with the cozy and sweet fragrance of the citron tea turning cold into warmth, spreading through the air.

“I’m not a counselor either, though…”

The moment he turned his head toward Dylan, Joeon realized that the personal space he had been trying to protect until just a moment ago had been completely invaded. Dylan’s face had already come too close.

The moment their eyes met, both Dylan and Joeon forgot what to say and stared at each other in the silence.

Dylan’s blue eyes, lacking the light reflected from the ice, were as dark as indigo submerged in storm clouds under the dim lighting.

His deep, dark pupils, like the Ontario lake at dawn, seemed to be whispering to Joeon to keep coming closer.

He could hear his own, unfamiliar breathing loudly. For a moment, it felt as if their noses had brushed against each other.

Without Joeon noticing, Dylan, who had been stroking Joeon’s hair with his fingertips, tilted his head slightly and naturally rubbed Joeon’s small, white earlobe—which still held a hint of dampness—with his fingers.

Joeon flinched at that sticky and explicit signal. Like a beast that had lowered its body into the darkness and was waiting for an opportunity, Dylan’s eyes shone fiercely.

Only then did Joeon wake up. Dylan had just been about to lean forward and pounce on Joeon as if to devour him in one bite.

“W-wait, wait a second.”

Suddenly brought to his senses, Joeon hurriedly pushed Dylan’s shoulder away and pulled his body back. His balance was so precarious it seemed he might fall off the chair at any moment.

“I…, um, Dylan. I think there’s a, um, misunderstanding.”

Dylan, who had shown a puzzled expression, soon hardened his face. Even without Joeon—who was busy catching his breath—having to explain his feelings at length, Dylan seemed to have already understood the rejection.

Pulling back his body, which he had pressed tight as if to pounce on the other person at any moment, Dylan lightly bit his lips, which were smiling awkwardly.

“Oh my, I’m sorry. I apologize.”

“No, no. It’s not that. If I happened to make you misunderstand, then I’m sorry. I mean, I…”

Joeon wiped his forehead with the back of his hand for no reason, though he wasn’t even sweating.

“I have never thought that way toward a man before. I, I don’t have any prejudices, so please never misunderstand. I mean, even if Dylan is, you know, that way, it’s not that it’s bad, or anything like that, so what I mean is…”

Dylan, who had been choosing his words for a moment, laughed as if feeling hopeless. Even though it wasn’t much different from the smile he always showed, the situation was different, so it looked cynical.

Seeing Joeon being anxious, fearing that Dylan might have felt insulted by his reaction, Dylan replied in a much lighter voice.

“No, Joeon. This is entirely my fault. I’m the one who misunderstood that Joeon might be that way.”

Dylan playfully touched Joeon’s cheek with his finger.

“I deluded myself and even worried about it like a fool. I’m sorry.”

Saying that, he roughly pulled Joeon’s collar together. He didn’t forget to add a nagging remark, saying, “But Joeon, you need to be a little more careful. Do you know that?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m relieved now that I know it was a misunderstanding.”

Dylan replied refreshingly, as if genuinely relieved, and added:

“For reference, it’s the same for me. I’ve had girlfriends, but this is the first time I’ve felt this way toward a man.”

When Joeon showed an attitude of disbelief, Dylan made an excuse.

“Why? It’s not a lie. But if the other person is Joeon… no, um, I’d better not say things like this. It’s nothing. I’m sorry. I’d like it if you could just pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Dylan, whose voice trailed off, ultimately didn’t finish his sentence and drank the remaining citron tea in one gulp. Then, he wiped the residue stuck to his lips with the tip of his tongue. I had thought it was sweet because the fragrance was sticky, but for some reason, the aftertaste was bitter.

“Um, it’s getting late, so I’ll be going now. I only intended to give you this and leave, anyway. I’ll leave the gift here.”

“You should take it.”

Dylan, who had stood up awkwardly, stopped his movement.

“I said it was a gift. Do you want me to take it back?”

“No, but…. It must be a precious item to you as well.”

“Well, I suppose so.”

Unlike what he was saying, his tone was light, making him sound like someone who didn’t care at all.

“But I thought I had to give it to you from the very beginning. It would be even uglier if I took it back now. As if I were….”