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No Tears for Us

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Late May/Early June 2019


When are you coming? Yuzu texted from the hotel in Sendai.

Never, Shoma thought, lingering near the backdoor to the stairwell. His manager, at least, was still taking care of him, and had told him how to enter the hotel without attracting media attention.

He wanted to vanish. Drown in the blackwater ocean waiting out there, and dissipate to nothing. He didn’t want to greet his lovers, however long it had been since they’d seen each other. Two and a half months, the words whispered in Shoma’s mind as he texted Yuzu back.

I’m coming up.

He hated those words, but he had to abide by them. His words always rang true as katana steel.

So he plodded up the stairs and to Javi and Yuzu’s room. Well, technically Javi’s because he received the least media attention. Yuzu had taken up residence with Javi at every hotel during their time together at Fantasy on Ice.

Shoma knocked. He heard rustling in the room, Yuzu saying “He’s here!”

Javi opened the door, revealing his kind face and sweet eyes. Shoma wanted to punch him.

The door snapped shut and Yuzu bounced over the bed, wrapping Shoma in his long, thin arms. Javi clutched Shoma as well, and between the two of them Shoma should have felt warm, and safe, and loved.  

“Don’t touch me,” Shoma snapped in Japanese.

It was the language the spoke together, excepting Javi's Spanish endearments.

Shoma shook them off.

“Mi amorcito,” Javi said, shocked.

“Shoma --” Yuzu said, still clinging to Shoma’s wrist.

“Get off me,” Shoma snarled, yanking his arm from Yuzu.

Yuzu looked like a drenched puppy left out in the rain.

Shoma sat at the edge of the bed and crossed his arms.

“We just know how hard it can be . . .” Javi ventured.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Shamefully, he began to cry. Neither Higuchi-sensei nor Yamada-sensei would want this.

“No tears for us Shoma,” Higuchi-sensei had instructed.

Her last instructions.

“Remember only the love between us. Which is always.”

She’d hugged him.

Crying felt like a betrayal of her, of her instructions, of those long years together. So he sobbed harder.

Javi brought him a tissue and Yuzu kissed his ear and cooed it was going to be okay.

“It’s not okay,” Shoma growled, shoving Yuzu off.

He blew his nose. Sometimes he wished Yuzu would go away and it would just be him and Javi. Javi understood what Shoma needed better than Yuzu. Javi would be stern when Shoma required. Yuzu liked to smother Shoma in affection no matter the circumstance. Shoma loathed what he felt as being babied. He was a grown man and had been in this relationship for two years now. He was not a child, no matter what him and his coaches had decided about parting.

Now, Javi and Yuzu regarded him warily.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t,” Javi said.

“Thank you,” Shoma said through the tissue. “How’s Sendai been?”

Yuzu rolled his eyes and flopped on the bed without touching Shoma.

“He means to say it’s been stressful because of the stalkers,” Javi said.

“Why can’t people leave me and my family alone?” Yuzu whined, in his very Yuzu way.

It made Shoma laugh.

“It’s not funny,” Yuzu glowered.

He sighed.

“I love skating too much to stop, even for my family. Does that make me selfish?”

“Mi amor,” Javi said, leaning down to kiss Yuzu. “You are terribly selfish. Like all of us.”

They were quiet for a moment and Shoma relished it. He relished their silences, delicate and fragrant as cherry blossoms. There was something calming about being with one’s lovers and not having to speak.

He thought of being small, so small the boards were higher than him. He thought of learning his first axel. He thought of cantilevering across the ice. He thought of when he began to be taller than the boards. How his shoulders broadened. He thought of his first Worlds silver, and then his Olympic silver, and then his NHK trophy, and Four Continents. And every other competition and medal besides. How before each performance there had been a smile which said you can do this. And how after each performance a warm pair of arms had been waiting for him.

It felt like a nest of wasps in his chest.

Finally, Shoma said: “I’m angry. More than anything.”

Javi arched his brow.

“I’m angry that I didn’t do enough to be a good student.”

Shoma shrank.

“Oh amorcito,” Javi said. “You told us yourself you needed to move on. To grow.”

“But I failed,” Shoma said. “I know I asked Higuchi-sensei if it was time for me to move on, but . . .”

The wasps buzzed in his chest and stung.

“Well, it’s done,” Javi said. “Both Yuzu and I have changed coaches and even though it felt bad, it was a good thing.”

“Morozov was a bastard,” Yuzu groused.

“He is,” Javi said. “But Shoma, you have done something brave. You have taken a step into the unknown, for your future. And that’s a good sign.”

Yuzu nodded. “You have to have an open heart to grow.”

“You will forget about all this anyways. Not your good memories. Just your doubt,” Javi said.

Shoma laughed and leaned into the both of them. Home. No matter where they were in the world.

And they were right; he knew that. Just like he knew their love: a stone in the pit of his stomach, heavy and miraculous.

No tears.

He tilted sideways and kissed Javi. A deep kiss, with tongue and teeth.

“My turn,” Yuzu tugged at Shoma’s collar.

Such a different kiss. Like tart sweets, tongue gentle and then Yuzu’s nips quick, devilish.

Shoma drew them to him, three bodies flush until they reached under each other’s clothes, giggling, laughing. Javi’s hand slid down Shoma’s jeans and cupped his ass, while Yuzu left a very interesting mark on Shoma’s neck. Their clothes shed like flower petals in fall and they ringed the bed, sucking each other’s cocks. Shoma felt Javi’s broad palm over his stomach and moaned around Yuzu’s cock. Yuzu hummed in return around Javi’s.

Yuzu came first, as he was want to do, vibrating like an electrical wire. Then Shoma, gasping as Javi’s tongue swirled his head. And Javi last, with Shoma sucking his cock, while Yuzu sucked his balls. They lay, entangled, on the bed. Shoma felt dazed, but bright as a sunflower.

He kissed both his lovers and drew them beneath the sheets with him. Javi’s drowsy arm looped around him, and Shoma in turn spooned a very placid Yuzu. They all smelled like wild onion: sex and sweat. Shoma didn’t mind. He had to leave in a few days: first for Korea, with Javi, and then, the unknown.