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Playing for the Win, for everyone (1/3)
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Originally posted by minyoonficex at Playing for the Win, for everyone (1/3)
Title: Playing for the Win
Recipient: Everyone
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: swearing, smut
Summary: After an unfortunate incident, Seungyoon reluctantly becomes the manager of his university basketball team.
Notes: Hello! This is an attempt at writing a funny fic. I don't know if I succeeded, but I hope it makes you laugh at least once. Please forgive some errors, this work was un-beta'd. Also, a little rushed. Sorry. But, yeah, enjoy. :)



This is all Taehyun’s fault, Seungyoon thinks, believes with all of his heart.

Because Nam Taehyun is a difficult son of a bitch who, for god knows what reason, looks for fights and enjoys taking punches as much as giving them.

Because years of therapy so Taehyun can deal with his anger management issues since he was nine only worsened his temperament through time (Seungyoon doubts any shrink can solve something congenital), and if he hadn’t been such a good drummer – the best Seungyoon has seen in the local band circuit – he would never have considered being friends with him. At all.

Because Taehyun is a ticking timebomb, and for the most part Seungyoon doesn’t really care as long as he explodes on stage, behind Seungyoon while he shreds his guitar in perfect sync to his beats. In those moments, only in those moments, Seungyoon is actually glad Taehyun has a lot of pent-up rage.

But most of the time, Taehyun just gets him in trouble. And this, by far, is the worst of them all.

“Just sue the university,” the subject of his ire drawls, twirling a drum stick in between his fingers lazily, completely oblivious to the murderous glare Seungyoon has been giving him for the better part of an hour. Unlike Seungyoon who is absolutely livid he could mangle one of Jinwoo’s throw pillows – the very same one he’s been using as a stress reliever by wringing its edges over and over to get rid of the furious tension in his bones, Taehyun is reclined on the couch without a care in the world. Like he didn’t just cause Seungyoon a shitload of problems. “I’m sure this is some illegal fuckery they’re pulling.”

“No it’s not,” Jinwoo says as he emerges out of his kitchen with a few bags of chips. He throws one at Taehyun who catches it with a small smirk – the only trace of positive emotion they ever get from him, or more accurately, food gets from him. Jinwoo offers another to Seungyoon but he just shakes his head.

Jinwoo takes a seat beside him, looking smug and all-knowing because unlike Seungyoon who still has one semester left, Jinwoo graduated last year and he never misses a chance to lord that fact over him. “The university has the right to compel him to do this. It’s a disciplinary action,” Jinwoo pops a chip into his mouth. “And besides, his department director already agreed. He has to serve time or he doesn’t graduate this year.”

Seungyoon lets out a pained groan and he considers, no, he’s on the verge of – crying. He didn’t juggle band practices, gigs during the weekends, boring ass lectures and his arduous thesis on music therapy – only to be blackmailed into… forced servitude.

Taehyun shoots up from the couch and apart from the purplish-brown bruises on his face that made him appear even more menacing, Seungyoon sees something like nefarious amusement in his expression.

“Working for the basketball team might not be so bad,” Taehyun says, quirking an eyebrow up. “Think about it. You like dudes, and this could mean being surrounded by sweaty guys all the time. That should get your juices pumping. Maybe even get you laid if one of them swings that way.”

“I’m going to fucking murder you.”

Taehyun doesn’t flinch, shrugging as he pushes a handful of chips into his mouth. “I’m only suggesting you look at the bright side, grumpy,” he mumbles with his mouth full, and Seungyoon… well, Seungyoon grits his teeth as his nails dig deep into the pillow, shifting his feet in preparation to launch himself onto Taehyun because the audacity. Something that Jinwoo notices because his legs are promptly on Seungyoon’s lap, locking him in place. And Jinwoo may be tiny but he’s all muscle and power and there’s little Seungyoon’s skinny frame could do to wriggle his way out.

“Please. Just let me punch him once. He’s covered in bruises anyway, it won’t make a difference,” he pleads.

Taehyun snorts, says something about Seungyoon being a wimp at fistfights, but he’d like to see him try. Seungyoon thinks Taehyun could be fucking Dave Grohl on drums and he’d still think it was a mistake to take him in as their drummer if he knew then what he knows now. Jinwoo gives him a shake of his head –  be the bigger man – his expression reads, but the glint in the older boy’s eyes indicate silent enjoyment of Seungyoon’s misery.

Seungyoon shrinks back, resigned and near tears, wondering how the fuck this happened to him.


It started at a bar.

The same bar Seungyoon frequents with Jinwoo and Taehyun after their gigs – Byblos – an ironic name because the last thing you’d see there are books, but it’s a favorite among college students because of its proximity to Yonsei University. Not to mention, the music is good, drinks are cheap, and the patrons are all young, trendy intellectuals like themselves ready to get shitfaced for one or two nights a week. It’s more of a pub than a club, which is perfect for drunken existential conversations and drinking games and the occasional one-night-stand pick-ups (Seungyoon had only done this once though, which was a disaster from start to finish – Finance major dude would agree. And guess which friend got him drunk enough to do it? Don’t answer that.)

Seungyoon is far more exhausted than usual after pulling an all-nighter on a composition project the day before, and he would have foregone the night out if Jinwoo hadn’t insisted on him coming – something about Jinwoo’s dry spell and Taehyun being a terrible wingman because more often than not he just broods there, judging everyone from his seat. And majority of the girls are shallow because they always fall for the bad boy, which Jinwoo is definitely not and Taehyun is, in every sense of the term. The worst part is Taehyun couldn’t care enough about Jinwoo’s feelings to resist someone’s advances. And Jinwoo never gets angry because he’s too nice a guy for his own good, and well, that’s just who Taehyun is.

So Seungyoon caves, albeit crabbily, and most of his time is spent at the pool table where he could be relatively far from the buzzed chats that only get more stupid or more true (not mutually exclusive) in proportion to liquor consumed.

“All I’m saying is maybe we should consider Mithra hyung’s offer. Add Wednesdays to our schedule,” Jinwoo says as Seungyoon eyes the orange ball. “We could use the extra cash.”

“You know I can’t handle more than two nights, hyung. Midterms are coming up, too,” he sighs. Seungyoon knows Jinwoo needs the money now that he’s officially cut off from his parents and is still on the job hunt. But Seungyoon couldn’t risk it; he’s been hanging on for dear life as it is and they only have the Friday and Saturday gigs now. He needs to graduate so he can finally get his Mom off his back about doing music on the side.

Seungyoon easily pockets the five ball and beams. Jinwoo crinkles his nose; he’s now down by three shots. Then again, he and Taehyun never win against him at this game anyway. Taehyun has long given up trying, because if there’s one thing Taehyun hates more than happiness, it’s losing.

“Fine,” Jinwoo huffs as he leans on his pool stick and Seungyoon takes his position to take the eight ball for the victory. “Then can you ask around if anybody needs a stand-in bassist on weekdays? I’m so desperate I’m willing to play for a show band.”

“Sure,” Seungyoon answers in time with the hit. The black ball goes in and Seungyoon does one fist pump in celebration. Jinwoo groans, takes out two one thousand won bills from his pocket and claps it against Seungyoon’s chest.

“You have no heart,” he grumbles. Seungyoon only shrugs. He plans on spending Jinwoo’s money to buy the older boy another drink anyway.

In the middle of his celebratory beer and Jinwoo’s consolation one, Seungyoon sees a familiar silhouette by the bar. His broad frame stands out, as it did the first time Seungyoon noticed him last… June, was it? He isn’t a regular here, and if Seungyoon isn’t wrong, he’s only seen him twice or thrice in the last three months.

And it’s not even a matter of how he remembers, rather how can he not? Especially when the guy has the deepest pair of dark eyes under two thick brows Seungyoon has ever seen. His jaw is sharp, his nose high, his lips… delectable, Seungyoon supplies after some thought. He looks about his age, maybe slightly older.

Seungyoon isn’t one to pick someone out of the crowd and creep in the way Jinwoo and Taehyun do. It’s just never his style, which is why the one-night stand pick up was such a nightmare it still leaves him cringing whenever he remembers. And other than the rare double-takes when someone attractive catches his eye, Seungyoon doesn’t give it much thought. Or action, for that matter.

But this one… hmm. Seungyoon has to admit he has some strange pull. Or maybe he’s just really hot and that’s the only logical explanation there is.

The guy swivels in his seat after taking a drink from the bartender and he’s laughing. Only then does Seungyoon realize he’s actually in a group of all guys today, but he’s easily the best-looking in the bunch, if the fact that Seungyoon couldn’t take his eyes off of him is any indication. From the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down whenever he takes a swig from his drink, to how he laughs open-mouthed and uninhibited; from how clearly defined his chest is under the thin white shirt to how he brings a finger to rub at the edge of his lower lip whenever he’s listening intently to someone speaking.

Seungyoon is too focused, too fixated, to notice the guy he’s been ogling for a good fifteen minutes turn to his direction. Their eyes lock, but Seungyoon doesn’t move. He squints, however. There’s something magnetic about this man’s stare, like it holds a thousand stories and yes Seungyoon is very interested to know each and every one of them, maybe even make stories of their own.

It’s charming and sexy all at once and Seungyoon finds himself catching his breath when the guy flashes him a tiny, barely-there smirk.

Wait what. Seungyoon instantly looks away because fuck. The last thing he wants is to be that weird guy at the bar who stares rudely at people and notices their adam’s apples and their strong chests.

I’m a fucking pervert, Seungyoon thinks. With very little remorse.

He drinks from his beer bottle, all the more convinced it was a mistake to come tonight. He’d like to leave now. Inconspicuously, if possible.

Just then, the sound of breaking glass cuts above the music and everyone turns to the bar. By the time Seungyoon does, however, all he sees is a bunch of guys huddled over someone on the floor.

“Shit, fuck! Shit!” Jinwoo exclaims, jumping from his stool. He turns to Seungyoon with wide eyes and a cold chill runs over Seungyoon’s spine.

No. Oh hell no.

“It’s Taehyun! That idiot!” Jinwoo cries out before dashing for the mob. Seungyoon is up on his feet, too, and he sees glimpses of Taehyun in the commotion. But unlike Jinwoo who springs into action without a thought, Seungyoon shuffles in place, at a loss for what to do.

This isn’t the first time Taehyun has gotten himself into a fight and most of the time, Seungyoon just lets it play out until someone stops them. It’s a little heartless, he has to admit, but after the first three times Seungyoon attempted to help out by breaking it off, he only ended up with bruises of his own and a completely unapologetic jerk for a friend. Besides, Taehyun (who really should have just considered a career in professional kickboxing instead of music) is fully equipped to handle it himself anyway. Only idiots would get into physical fights in public and believe it or not, most of the people who Taehyun picks fights with are even bigger jerks than he is.

But this is different because there are more than five people coming for him. He sees Jinwoo lug someone’s shoulder away from Taehyun. This man is nearly twice his size, and Jinwoo looks innocuous next to the hunkering figure but he throws a punch that knocks him back a few steps. And all Seungyoon could think about is how one-sided this is, but damn it, Seungyoon abhors fights. Fights are for people who can’t communicate like human beings to settle whatever differences they have.

But does he really want to be that guy who lets his friends get beaten up?

Oh fuck it.

Before he could stop himself, he downs his drink in one move and jumps into the mess with faux tenacity. Taehyun is currently trying to fend off two guys, while Jinwoo is in a headlock and Seungyoon isn’t really… shit! He doesn’t know how to go about this.

So he decides to just help. He jumps behind the one attacking Jinwoo, latching onto the guy’s neck until he’s screaming profanities. Seungyoon can barely hold on, but he tries his damnedest. The guy manages to shake him off and when he staggers back and feels his back collide against someone’s chest, his adrenaline on overdrive causes him to whip around and throw a punch on reflex. The impact is so strong it leaves his fist completely paralyzed and he whimpers in pain, while the guy he just punched lands on the floor.

Seungyoon panics, thinks about apologizing but he feels his whole body being shoved from the back and he tumbles to the ground, with Jinwoo on top of his back. Jinwoo doesn’t stay down for long and he charges back with a scream.

“What the fuck,” Seungyoon groans, clutching his stinging elbow that unfortunately hit the ground first during his fall. When he lifts his head, through the mess of bangs covering his eyes, he sees a glimpse of the guy he just clobbered beside him.

And oh god. It’s him. The one with the intense stare and the adam’s apple and the chest, and the guy looks back at Seungyoon with what he could only assume as rage. This is definitely not the meet cute he expected.

Seungyoon thinks this might just be the worst night of his life.

More chaos ensues and Seungyoon doesn’t recall half of it, all he knows is some of the bar staff pull them apart, and Seungyoon scuttles away, trying to flee the scene before any of them get asked to pay for the damage (or before the guy he just punched decides to return the favor).

But before he could get any farther, a booming voice fills the bar and suddenly everyone is silent.

“Uh oh. We’re in trouble,” Jinwoo mutters, and Seungyoon is surprised he’s already standing beside him. Jinwoo’s nose is bleeding, and Seungyoon is pretty sure there’s a cut in his brow, a thin trail of blood trickling all the way down to his chin. But Jinwoo looks more concerned about the bar situation than his face. Seungyoon looks around and spots Taehyun sitting languidly against the bar, silently laughing to himself as he dabs a finger against the corner of his bloodied lips.

Seungyoon has no idea what’s happening, but judging by how the five guys they were fighting with are all standing at attention in front of a man whose back is turned to Seungyoon, then the pandemonium is over. Thank god. Now all they had to do is escape. They don’t even have to grab Taehyun – he’s on his own now. Surely they’ve helped enough to still warrant the title of decent friends.

He’s about to grab Jinwoo’s wrist to make a run for it when the man turns around.

It takes about three seconds for Seungyoon to recognize him, but when he does, Seungyoon’s heart plummets. Then he knows he’s fucked.

“Mr. Kang?” The man says, his brows edging up to his receding hairline. It was someone Seungyoon wished he never would have to see again – someone he’s successfully avoided ever meeting at the campus in the last year.

“C-coach Han,” Seungyoon stammers, looking at his Physical Education instructor. The man he duped into letting him make up for his absences in his stupid, useless class by promising he’d help in some tournament. Seungyoon bailed anyway after he got an advanced grade.

Fuck. Seungyoon’s eyes dart to the guy he punched who returned his stare with a curious one.

And that is how Kang Seungyoon became a bunch of jocks’ designated servant.



The first day Seungyoon is scheduled to report for duty as the basketball team’s official temporary manager is during some game with their rival, Korea University. Truthfully, Seungyoon was never one to care about sports even though practically everyone in uni is crazy over them. They’re a waste of time and precious resources, not to mention the special treatment athletes get simply for playing games is nothing short of repugnant. Which is why Seungyoon thinks serving as manager for these jocks is a terrible, terrible idea. It has catastrophe written all over it.

He’s missing the performance at High Ground, but Hayi owes him one and was cool enough to agree taking over his spot whenever the band’s gigs clash with his schedule as manager. But if you ask Seungyoon, the best thing about the arrangement is how miserable Taehyun is bound to be because Hayi is the one person who doesn’t take any of his shit. And poor Jinwoo has to deal with them both.

So maybe Seungyoon had asked Hayi especially as a little payback. He had to take the fall for both Taehyun and Jinwoo since Taehyun doesn’t go to Yonsei, and Jinwoo graduated already – and in exchange for not reporting them to the police for causing the fight (several eyewitnesses claimed the pale guy with parted hair and mean eyes started it all), Seungyoon had to agree to this… arrangement. It’s the perfect compromise, Coach Han had told him, since their manager quit on them abruptly and it’ll keep Seungyoon’s record squeaky clean.

Seungyoon had no fucking choice.

As Coach Han instructed, he arrives at the gym two hours before the game starts. He was told he’ll find one of the players to help him figure out exactly what his job description is and what’s expected of him as the new manager. Seungyoon doesn’t think it’ll be such a tough job – as long as he doesn’t have to wipe their sweat for them or employ first aid, giving out drinks and towels might not be completely a nightmare.


The real nightmare comes in the form of the player who’s waiting for him in the middle of the court. And Seungyoon finally believes the universe must hate him somehow.

“You’re late,” he says wryly, looking as annoyed as he did back at the bar. And for all the reasons Seungyoon should be just as irritated for having to be this ridiculous situation, he couldn’t speak nor react like a normal person because the man is still as gorgeous scowling under the fluorescent lights of the gym, as he did laughing in the warm yellow lights of the bar.

And in hindsight, maybe he should have apologized immediately after punching him because this guy looks about ready to give him hell as revenge.

“Didn’t Coach Han tell you to be here at 4 PM sharp? It’s 4:15.”

“Huh? Yeah sorry I just–“ Seungyoon buys time by looking behind him as if the answer would be there because he doesn’t really have an excuse for being late, but jesus it’s just fifteen minutes. What’s got this guy’s panties in a bunch?

“Whatever. Just don’t be late again. Follow me,” he says rigidly before turning around. Seungyoon trails behind, sighing with every heavy step. Already he feels exhausted and he hasn’t done anything yet.

In the meantime, Seungyoon doesn’t study the guy’s broad shoulders and the way his shirt clings to his back as they walk – or at least he tells himself it isn’t for perverted reasons. It’s not like it’s Seungyoon’s fault he’s right in front of him, but he tries to focus on something else – like the characters at the back of his shirt above the number 33. Song Mino. It could be his name?

Seungyoon is distracted enough he mindlessly enters what looks like the Coach’s office. It’s larger than it looks from the outside, and Seungyoon is greeted by racks and racks of trophies and plaques, the whole atmosphere eerily reminding him of his aunt’s house that’s practically a shrine to his overachieving cousin.

“This is the team’s schedule for the remainder of the season,” the guy says, handing him some sheets of paper. “You’re expected to come to every single one. Coach Han gave me the responsibility to monitor your performance. If you don’t do your job properly, well, you have to be prepared for the consequences. I heard you’re graduating this year, right?” He cocks a brow and Seungyoon sees the challenge in his expression. This smug son of a bitch! He’s going to make Seungyoon’s life a living hell. He just knows it.

Seungyoon looks down at the schedule and his eyes widen before matching the guy’s eyes again. “Wait. This is almost every day for the next four weeks. I’m supposed to show up to your practices, too? What the fuck?”

“That’s standard for every manager. You should be thankful the season is almost over.”

Seungyoon scoffs. “Dude. I have a life.”

“You should have thought of that before acting like a high school gangster.”

Seungyoon feels heat rise in his cheeks, and for all the wrong reasons. “Excuse me?”

The guy shrugs. “Look, I have a game in less than two hours, my teammates will be here any second to warm up. If you have a problem with this, by all means, go to Coach Han and complain to him. I also have a life. I don’t want to waste more of it on someone who doesn’t want to be here.”

And just like that, he walks past Seungyoon, straight for the door.

Seungyoon is so close to just stomping out of there and never looking back. But whichever way he looks at it, he’s going to be the one suffering at the end of the day. He might as well suck it up in the meantime.

“Song Mino-ssi,” Seungyoon calls out.

The guy stops walking and turns around, leans his shoulder against the doorway.

So it is his name. Seungyoon doesn’t even realize why he’s so curious to find out, but he glances at the sheet once more before looking up to meet Song Mino’s expectant gaze. “What… do I have to do?”

Mino’s expression softens; he lets out a resigned sigh as he regards Seungyoon carefully, his piercing gaze heating up the back of Seungyoon’s neck. But before the blush reaches his cheeks, Mino speaks. “Well first, you have to change your clothes.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He looks down at his outfit: a brown faux leather jacket over a thin white shirt and denim pants. Jinwoo once told him he should lay off the skinny jeans but Seungyoon rather likes how his legs look in them. Fabulous.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re part of the team now. You should look the part,” Mino shrugs, giving him a once over that makes Seungyoon swallow nervously. “Besides, you’re distracting.”

Seungyoon scrunches his nose. “What do you mean I’m-“

“There’s a uniform on your new locker – the one at the end. Number 121,” Mino points to the direction of the locker room, not in the least concerned that he just cut Seungyoon off. Before Seungyoon could utter a word of response, Mino is out the door, leaving him muttering curses under his breath instead.

"Suck it up, Kang Seungyoon," he tells himself. and then he heads to change.


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