⛸ shared ice ⋆˙⟡
⋆⁺₊❅ james!cortis ✘ fem!reader
ft. skating team - wonhee!illit and rei!ive ; hockey team - martin!cortis and keonho!cortis
synopsis: a figure skater and a hockey player. one rink. too many things left unsaid to still call it coincidence.
wc: 1.3k
notes: I finally wrote a short story, at least I hope it's short. I have nothing much to say lmao.
enjoy !
𝜗ৎ 𖹭.ᐟ
You step onto the ice rink slowly and carefully, blades scraping softly against the ice, at the same moment the hockey team is already mid-practice.
One of the players winds up for a slap shot, the puck flying across the rink just as another gets slammed into a body check.
"They really think that's impressive?" Rei mutters.
"It's just crashing into each other with extra steps," Wonhee adds, barely hiding a laugh.
You chuckle under your breath. "Ice cavemen."
"Exactly," Rei says, and the team breaks into quiet laughter as you all skate further in.
Meanwhile on the other side:
"Oh great," Martin says, noticing the new group on the ice. "The glitter squad's here."
"Whatever," James laughs. "Finish the round, then we deal with them."
You skate close to the boards, the cold biting through your skin with every glide. Still, you’re used to it by now.
Too focused on perfecting the new move you picked up from one of the senior skaters, you don't notice one of the rivals skating straight toward you.
You find yourself on the ice before you even fully register what's happening—until you collide with someone.
You both go down.
When you look up, it's James.
He's sitting on the ice in front of you, clearly just as stunned as you are.
Then your eyes flick to his head.
It's bleeding.
For a second, neither of you speaks.
Then—
"Watch where you're going!" he snaps.
"You bumped into me!" you shoot back imidietelly.
"You're not even supposed to be skating here!"
You scoff. "What, is this your territory now?"
"It was before your team decided it was 'important to share'," he mutters.
You open your mouth to fire back again, but neither of you notices the silence spreading across the rink.
Both teams are watching, murmuring to each other.
You sigh out of frustration and skate toward the rink's entrance, too irritated to continue practicing.
"Are you okay?" Wonhee asks you, a hint of worry in her voice.
"I'm fine," you answer, hoping you don't sound too harsh. Your mood is already ruined, but you try to stay calm around your teammates.
Keonho’s voice echoes across the rink. "Is this enough proof for you to leave now?"
"It clearly wasn't her fault," Rei snaps back. "If you wanna play hockey, learn how to skate first!"
Martin imidietelly shouts over her. "If you want to use the rink, learn the rules."
Rei scoffs, rolling her eyes, already ready to fire back.
Before she can, you step in.
"Just ignore them."
Rei looks at you for a moment, then sighs. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
⛸ ⛸ ⛸
Next day, you arrive at practice alone and early in the morning. You didn't want anything getting in your way today—you needed peace.
Just as you step into the arena, the sharp sound of skates gliding across the ice echoes through the rink.
"Are you serious?" you whisper to yourself, already losing hope for the quiet you came for.
James is already here, stickhandling across the ice.
You try to ignore his presence as you step onto the rink, skating toward the far side where he isn't.
As you skate, he leans against the goal frame, his eyes following your movements.
You attempt the same jump you’d been trying to learn yesterday—your weakest move.
You fail.
You try again.
You fall.
Again.
And again.
Then you hear his voice:
"You're leaning too far to the left."
"Didn't ask," you snap imidietelly, not even looking at him.
"Yeah, well," he replies calmly, "you're still doing it."
You exhale sharply, ignoring him—then try again.
This time, you land it.
For a second, you just stand there, frozen.
And you hate that it worked.
"Told you," he says.
You turn around. "I don't need you telling me how to skate."
He scoff-laughs.
"Right. That's why you spent twenty minutes falling on the same jump."
You glare at him. "And yet I landed it."
"After I told you what was wrong."
"Keep dreaming."
"Whatever makes you sleep at night."
Then he skates away and goes back to practice.
⛸ ⛸ ⛸
Today's Wednesday—two days until Nationals.
"I'm expecting all of you to give it your best," your coach calls out. "And on Saturday, I expect to see you holding that trophy with pride. There are only two days left. Work hard, stay focused, and you'll earn the result you've been fighting for."
Meanwhile, the hockey team has qualified for an international tournament in Tokyo, leaving just a day after Nationals begin.
Your team is exhausted after three hours of practice, already heading out of the rink.
Rei glances back at you when she notices you’re not following. "You coming?"
"I’m gonna stay and practice a bit more."
"Just make sure you actually rest when you get home."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."
The rink is almost empty.
Just the scrape of blades against ice and the distant hum of the lights above.
You spot James easily—you figure he stayed behind to practice for his match. He always does.
You head toward your usual spot, where the ice is always the smoothest, the cleanest glide, the place you go when you actually need to think.
You don’t look at him when you speak.
"So... they just let you play with a head injury now?"
A beat.
The puck stops.
You can feel his eyes before you actually turn yours.
"What?" he says.
You shrug slightly, still gliding forward.
"I mean, I guess hockey rules are different. No helmets for brains or whatever."
A scoff-laugh slips out of him before he can stop it. "It was nothing."
"Yeah?" You finally glance over. "Looked like 'nothing' was bleeding all over the ice two days ago."
He pushes of the boards, skating a slow circle, pretending like this conversation is just background noise.
"You worried about me now?"
That makes you roll your eyes imidietelly.
"You wish."
Silence slides between you for a second.
"I'm just saying, it would be annoying if that becomes your problem during Nationals."
He snorts. "Relax. I’ve had worse."
You hum like you don’t care, adjusting your gloves. "Would hate for Tokyo to be ruined because you got knocked out by a figure skater."
That earns a real laugh from him this time.
"Right. Because that’s what happened."
You finally meet his eyes properly.
"Just saying."
He taps his stick lightly against the ice, watching you for a second too long.
"…It’s fine."
You nod once, like that settles it.
"Good."
And then you both go back to skating like nothing happened.
Like nothing was ever said.
⛸ ⛸ ⛸
Friday—just one day before the most important competition of your life.
The cold hits differently tonight. Every movement feels heavier than usual.
You've been here for nearly five hours.
And of course, James is here too.
When you arrived earlier, he glanced at you and raised his eyebrows in greeting. You returned it before you could think better of it.
Maybe somewhere along the way, the rivalry between your teams stopped mattering when it came to the two of you.
Or maybe that was a thought better saved for another night.
You skate toward the exit, exhaustion pulling at every muscle in your body.
Your hand is inches from the door when his voice stops you.
"Hey."
You glance back.
James is standing near the boards, tapping the toe of his stick against the ice.
"Win Nationals."
A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.
"You too."
"Tokyo's after Nationals."
"Then win Tokyo."
A quiet scoff escapes him. "Don't mess up that jump."
"You're never letting that go, are you?"
He looks at you for a moment.
"No."
You shake your head, laughing under your breath.
"See you around, James."
"Yeah."
Yeah.
You aren't sure if he means after Nationals.
Or ever.
Maybe there was more to say.
Maybe there wasn't.
Nationals are tomorrow.
Tokyo's the day after that.
And that's all that matters for now.