Melting the Devil

No Goodbyes

A/N: Hello! Anyeong! Bonjour!

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On Sunday afternoon, when Cantaloupe opens his door to reveal Tin in a sleek navy suit that fits him like a second skin, holding a bouquet of flowers and smiling sheepishly, he quietly thinks he could probably come up with a way to get them both out of the day's events. People might look for the project head of the launch and the CEO of the company that owns the facility, but he thinks he could pull a few strings to make it work. And then he could keep his gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend hostage at his apartment for the rest of the day and maybe forever, right?

Tin clears his throat, effectively snapping Cantaloupe out of his elaborate plan to get out of the launch he'd spent the better part of the last month planning. "Ready to go, bud?" His smile is a touch too smug.

Cantaloupe feels his cheeks heat. "Yup," he says, taking Tin's arm when he offers.

It's early when they arrive at Perault, still hours before the event officially begins. Cantaloupe hadn't been able to keep the program from Tin for much longer after they stepped into the lobby and found Mr. Pakorn already there with Oskar "Full" Fulmer and Patrick "Pasta" Gagne, two of the Falconers' starting players. Tin had raised an inquisitive brow at Cantaloupe upon spotting them but Cantaloupe had just smiled at him, dragging him by the elbow to say hi.

After a quick and easy conversation with them (mostly Tin congratulating them on their season and Pakorn asking after Tin's father), Cantaloupe leads Tin down one of the hallways. He's sure Tin has probably gleaned the nature of the event from their little chat, and by the looks of it—at least judging by the way he's smiling down at Cantaloupe, all soft and fond—he seems pretty pleased with it.

"So it's a soccer camp," Tin says simply.

"It is a soccer camp, yes."

"For children."

"Mm, yes, that does seem to be the primary target for soccer camps."

"With the Falcs."

Cantaloupe hums in agreement, still walking straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tin grinning widely at him. "Yes, I believe you just talked to a couple of them. I started setting up a long-term partnership with them, Pakorn seemed kind of pleased that I had suggested it, anyway, so I've got them talking to PR—" 

Tin grabs Cantaloupe by the elbow, forcing him to finally stop and look. "Can."

"Yes, Mr. Medthanan?" Cantaloupe aims for a casual tone, but his voice comes out reedy.

Tin presses his lips together, like he's trying not to laugh, as he takes a step forward. "I would ask you how you managed to pull this together, but I feel like that would discredit the fact that I know you're an incredible planner and that you somehow work magic when it comes to these things."

Cantaloupe shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat. "There may have been a few pies involved..."

Tin laughs. "Of course."

"Anyway," Cantaloupe says, hand slipping down to grab Tin's. "I wanted to show you something. Before I gotta run around like a headless chicken and make sure we're on schedule."

Tin gives him a curious look, but gestures forward. "Lead the way."

Cantaloupe takes them down the hall and into the rink (through the massive balloon arch and a row of flowers), stopping abruptly at the entrance.

Tin turns to him, brows furrowed even though he's still smiling. "You wanted to show me... the rink?"

"No, silly." Cantaloupe rolls his eyes, placing his hands on Tin's biceps to turn him around bodily. "I wanted to show you that."