As Chuuya walked through the automated sliding doors, the familiar, chilly air of the skating rink surrounded him. He shivered, pulling his jacket on a bit tighter before making his way to the locker room to get ready to practice his routine for Nationals, which was approaching faster than he expected.

Of course, Chuuya was no stranger to sharing the ice. It was a free-to-use rink, after all—but he wasn’t expecting it so early. Usually, people began to fill in later, not at 5 A.M.

Chuuya stood by the plastic barrier that separated the ice from the carpet floors, his jaw slack as he stared down the hockey player, who proceeded to whip past the redhead, swerving and hitting the puck right into the opposing net as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

Chuuya scoffed as the guy took off his helmet and turned around to face Chuuya, a shit eating grin on his face. Chuuya could practically smell his ego.

Finally getting a better look when the hockey player approached him—well, that was a problem.

He’s gorgeous. Like, problematically pretty. The way the messy brunet locks framed his face, his stupid dimples and freckly skin—yeah, this guy was going to be an issue. Chuuya wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

Chuuya and Dazai (he had found out the brunet’s name that same day through the owner. That wasn’t creepy, right?) had been sharing the ice at the exact same time before the sun came up for the past two weeks. Chuuya was, frankly, getting sick of it.

How can someone have so much to say at 5 in the morning? Chuuya was missing the peace and quiet from before he met this idiot. He swore, the brunet could talk for two days on end and still have more to say afterwards.

Chuuya was taking a water break, when Dazai skated up to him, hopping off the ice and sitting down beside the figure skater. He took a small swig of his own bottle, before nudging Chuuya’s shoulder playfully.

Chuuya held back a scoff at the unprecedented contact, glancing away. “What? What do you want this time?”