NHL 26

“That is good. I do not do calculations.”

Just as Dylan said, he was a very different type of person from the static and calculating Joeon. He was unpredictable and impulsive, like a vibrant beast. That very point created a formless anxiety.

Joeon glanced at Dylan to hide his irregularly pounding heartbeat. It seemed he had succeeded in catching his attention, as Dylan, who had been staring only at Joeon’s lips, met his eyes with a sparkle.

“Hey, Dylan. By the way, did you not say you had a gift for me? Even if it was an excuse to get me to your house, if you prepared something, I feel like I should check it.”

Joeon changed the subject as he pushed away Dylan, who was trying to cling to him again.

“Ah, right.”

“Right?”

“Haha, it is not a lie. I really have it. Follow me this way.”

As if he had just then remembered, Dylan led Joeon to the dressing room. Unlike the bedroom, unorganized items were messily shoved into drawers and closets.

Amidst the mess, Dylan skillfully took out the item he was looking for. The new items, brought out still in their box packaging, were a helmet and protective gear, but unlike the ones for professional players, they were designed to protect only about the elbows and knees. Joeon looked back and forth between the items and Dylan.

“I bought the size by guessing, but do you want to try it on? If it does not fit, I will exchange it.”

Fortunately, it seemed Dylan had ordered the size by comparing it to the gear Joeon had borrowed before, as it fit perfectly as if it had been his own from the start.

Joeon swept his fingertips over the shiny, polished surface. A dazed, foolish expression was reflected back. Only then did he pull up the corners of his mouth and smile.

“Thank you. I will use them well. I do not think I will get hurt even if I fall. But the helmet, umm…”

As Joeon trailed off, as if he did not want to wear the helmet, Dylan hurriedly placed the blue helmet on Joeon’s head. His team’s polar bear mascot was stamped on it in white.

“Wear it. Your head should not crack open in case you fall.”

“……”

Of course, he hoped such a thing would not happen, but the hypothetical was quite gruesome. It was a black joke that only someone like Dylan, who had gone through concussion protocol, could make. Joeon, his face pale, obediently nodded. He stood up and struck a skating pose.

“I think it fits well.”

The protective gear pressed firmly on his joints, so his movement was not entirely free, but he figured it would not be a major hindrance since his body was sluggish and clumsy when he skated anyway.

“By the way, when is the next lesson? Coach.”

When Joeon asked playfully, Dylan finally wore a sorry expression. It seemed the gift was a form of compensation for the lesson time he could not provide. Though, in truth, there was no need for it.

“I am sorry. The game schedule is busy for a while. Let’s go skating again during the All-Star break.”

“It is okay. I did not say it to rush you. You do not have to worry about it at all. I am grateful just for you looking out for me like this. Thank you so much.”

Flustered, Joeon waved his hands. Dylan stared at him blankly and then, without warning again, pressed his lips against his. The surprise attack ended up smashing his forehead against the helmet, crushing the romance, but it was a completely natural and habitual contact, as if dealing with a longtime lover.

Joeon tried to match Dylan’s pace, which was faster than his own, and complied obediently. However, a question that had not disappeared from a corner of his mind remained, whispering faintly.

So, where is the final destination of this runaway locomotive?

⛸️

He was lucky. The grocery store was crowded, and there was only one cart left.

The middle-aged man who came in after them had no choice but to head toward the stack of wheel-less shopping baskets.

“First, let’s buy meat.”

The meat section was on the complete opposite side from where the two were standing. Not very efficient. While Joeon was scanning the inside of the store, Dylan proactively pushed the cart and reached the meat section.

“Joeon, which cut do you like more?”

“…I am not sure. More importantly, should we buy more here?”

Joeon responded indifferently, looking at the two packs of red meat Dylan presented before his eyes. He glanced down and saw that the cart was already full of various kinds of meat. It had all happened in the blink of an eye.

Dylan was definitely a carnivore, and like an athlete, his appetite was enormous. However, due to the nature of his job, he ate out far more often than at home, so the amount currently in the shopping cart seemed a bit excessive for him.

“Dylan. We are done with meat, so let’s go buy some vegetables.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

When Joeon took the meat packs from his hand and put them down, Dylan looked at the meat with eyes full of lingering attachment. He seemed to have rapidly lost interest at the suggestion of buying vegetables.

Just like that day when they had skated and grilled steak at the cabin surrounded by a coniferous forest, Dylan grilled the meat with simple seasoning, and Joeon, hovering around to help with something, took charge of the plating.

It seemed he definitely did not spend much time at home, as Dylan’s apartment had quite a few mismatched bowls and cups. This was not much different from Joeon’s own home. From among them, Joeon took out the only set of tableware that remained a pair and prepared the drinks. He then sat at the table and prepared mashed potatoes, made by mashing boiled potatoes and adding salt, butter, and milk.

The menu was simple and neat. It was a clean combination of arugula salad with olive oil and Parmesan cheese, steak, grilled vegetables, and mashed potatoes. Dylan said he also had instant mac and cheese and offered to make it if he wanted, but Joeon declined. Joeon’s palate leaned toward the plain side.

They had a slow and peaceful dinner. This time, it was not in nature where the sound of trickling water draped everywhere, but in the heart of the city, surrounded by a concrete jungle where drab, gray, tall buildings were packed as densely as gambi trees. Outside the window, the night sky, stained black, and the traces of life that never went out beneath it, shone ceaselessly.

After finishing their meal, the two rummaged through a part of the dressing room that was being used as a storage space and took out Jenga blocks. As the games continued, the two became fired up and engrossed themselves in the game until late into the night.

Joeon felt embarrassed by his own competitiveness over a simple game and tried to change the mood, but he immediately wanted to smack his own lips for accidentally bringing up the story that there was also an adult version with raunchy penalties like ‘take off an item of clothing’ attached to the blocks. It was because Dylan was looking Joeon up and down with a lecherous glint in his eyes.

Eventually, in his haste to cover up his slip of the tongue, he pulled out a block too quickly and ended up toppling the tower. Dylan laughed playfully and asked.

“Which will it be? T-shirt, pants, or underwear?”

Joeon pretended not to hear Dylan’s question, took out the smelling salts, and carried out the penalty himself. Thanks to that, he was wide awake. It was time to show the persistence of a man fired up with a competitive spirit.

In the middle of their evenly matched record of wins and losses, Dylan checked the clock and brought out some camping chairs from somewhere.

“It is almost time. Shall we go out?”

The chairs were set up on the balcony. The two armed themselves with thick winter jackets and took their seats.

“Do we have to watch it from here? The wind… is blowing unbelievably hard.”

As Joeon muttered, his legs trembling, Dylan sat down, pulling the tiny camping chair right up next to his.

“Come closer.”

He put his arm around him as if to sling it over his shoulder and pulled Joeon’s body toward him. The gap where the biting wind could penetrate disappeared. The contact, which had been only awkward at first, quickly became familiar. Joeon’s tilted head touched his broad shoulder. It was a position closer to his chest, rather.

He pulled the hood down deep, and the raccoon fur obscured Joeon’s vision. The blowing wind was so cold that even though he could not see well, he just sat there, content with the warmth, when he felt a hot breath approach right above his forehead.

“Is this a little better?”

“Much better.”

Lukewarm lips blew away his bangs and then pressed a firm stamp onto the flat skin. The lips, which pulled away with a sound, moved down to his eye. Then, they pressed close to his temple and wriggled.

“I like it more because it feels like we are camping. What about you, Joeon?”

He was truly a person who was natural with physical affection. Feeling shy, Joeon kept his gaze on the round dome of the Rogers Centre and answered.

“…Camping on December 31st. Do you not think it is more cold than fun?”

“I am holding you so you will not be cold. Am I not enough for you? Should I light a campfire?”

At the blunt expression, Joeon let out a chuckle. It seemed he really was an forward who could not go backward or take a roundabout way. Just as he was about to retort, asking what he would do if they got arrested for violating fire safety laws, a single loud bang was heard. The small sound coming from a distance seemed like a firework someone had set off by mistake.

“Look over there, Joeon. I think it is about to start.”

When he followed Dylan’s gaze and checked the clock, it was already approaching midnight. In the distance, people began to count down. The voices of the citizens gathered in front of Nathan Phillips Square in front of City Hall overlapped into one and echoed through the city.

“10!”

“9!”

Perhaps there were people in Dylan’s condo who, like the two of them, had come out onto their balconies to watch the upcoming event, as voices counting down could be heard from not too far away. The people’s voices echoed through the forest of buildings, sounding slightly slower than the actual passage of time.

And, at the same time as the count of 1, an explosion incomparably louder than the one before was heard. As Joeon flinched his shoulders, Dylan tightened his hand wrapped around his shoulder.

A beautiful light poured onto Dylan’s balcony, which overlooked the entire downtown area. The CN Tower, the pillar supporting the city, lit up, and brilliant fireworks shot up from its peak.

The fireworks exploding in all directions from the top looked like a flower stalk budding. The flower of the bleak city, blooming in the dead of winter, was the only thing illuminating the pitch-black night sky.

For a short period of just over ten minutes, the tower, as if looking back on the past four seasons, sprouted, formed buds, bloomed its brilliant petals, and then withered, shedding them in a shower. The tower, having scattered its last remaining seeds as if to spread them to the world, quietly turned off its lights. Only the occasional cheers of people drifted through the air like an echo.

Joeon was speechless for a long time.

It had been over a decade since he had settled in this city, but a deep wave of emotion washed over him at the sight he had never seen before. Dylan, too, simply expressed his own emotion through his warmth. The celebrations and cheers of people continued in the distance. Only then did Dylan greet Joeon.

“Happy New Year.”

Joeon, who had opened his mouth to reply, silently closed it and swallowed dryly. He felt like a pathetic voice, thick with emotion, would come out. Perhaps that was why, even as he eventually replied, “Happy New Year to you, too,” instead of a proper voice, he ended up letting out only a puff of white breath. Compared to the joy and blessings of the people audible from all over the city, it was an absurdly feeble sound.

The people he had met in this land were not in the least bit stingy about expressing positive emotions. In this city of people who laughed well, praised, gave thanks, and rejoiced, people did not easily despair or become pessimistic even when faced with misfortune. Like Maya, who loved to give to others despite not being well-off financially, or Tony, who did not spare his energy in caring for those around him.

Joeon had lived so dryly that he felt ashamed of his past, when he had lived simply for the sake of being alive. He had not known much about, nor had he loved, this land where people did not lose their warmth and hope even in the snowstorms that came like regular visitors every winter.

Every day, it was only about adapting and surviving. For him, life was merely survival.

Joeon now finally felt the inclination to properly criticize his attitude toward life. He felt that the time he had spent idly, without achieving anything, was a waste and a regret. He wished he had engraved more memories of swimming joyfully, rather than memories of struggling beneath the surface of pressure.

Joeon pushed away the heavy emotion and rushed to find Dylan’s lips to chase away the negative, distracting thoughts that were trying to take its place. Perhaps not expecting him to approach first, Dylan flinched for a moment. But he soon opened his lips and gently accepted him.