Actions

Work Header

Rarepairs on Ice

Chapter Text

“You know, I’ve not actually done this before,” Isabella Yang, wedding planner and successful career woman, was very much unused to feeling out of her depth, without the power and knowhow to tell every person in a room what they want and why they must fork out extra for this and that to make sure their perfect day was just so perfect- and expensive. She was a cold, beautiful businesswoman in control of every situation, but right now she was minutes from falling on her backside in the most ungracious manner. And in front of the biggest, most darling, delightful puppy of a man in the entirety of Canada.

“Hey I won’t let you fall.” Jean-Jacques’ grin and laugh oozed arrogance, but there was a tenderness there too as he reached a hand out; already on the ice, he’d done a lap to warm up- weaving and bobbing between schoolchildren and other couples- before finally noticing she was still clinging to the railing, legs wobbling and threatening to flail in every direction possible.

“I know, I know,” Bella took his hand before stumbling slightly, “I’m just nervous, okay?” How the hell was she supposed to balance on two tiny blades? Who thought this was the best way to travel across ice? Who thought skating on ice was a good idea in the first place? Someone with greater balance and poorer common sense than her apparently. And to think, all that practice wearing heels she’d committed to since she was thirteen so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself walking, now down the drain.

It wouldn’t be so embarrassing if JJ- as he liked to be called- was a novice too, or it was just a casual hobby for him, but no, he had to be one of the top figure skaters in the world, or so he claimed. To be honest, she’d been hoping that was just a load of shit he’d told her when they met to seem more interesting, but no, he really did seem to know his way around an ice rink. Oh perfect.

She was about to show herself up in front of an athlete. The only way this could get any worse was if any of her clients were here too, but she seemed safe on that front. They were all probably too skint for ice skating at this moment.

“It’s easy, really,” JJ insisted, though nothing in his voice told her he was being patronizing, or trying to force her to let go. For all his flaws, he was really sweet that way. “I was skating since I was five, same with my bro and sis.” One of his flaws being that he loved to boast. He was just so in love with himself she almost felt surplus.

“It’s just… you’re impossibly fast… and strong...”

“Bella, please.”

There was a selfless, gentlemanly side to JJ Leroy though, one easily seen if they just stuck around long enough. It was a side Isabella had discovered almost immediately from him, when he’d pretended to be her boyfriend to get her out of a tricky situation. All she’d been doing was sitting minding her own business at the bar- after her friend had disappeared with some hot guy- when this creep had come over breathing down her neck and reeking of cheap aftershave. She’d not been interested in pulling to begin with, but this guy was everything she hated when being chatted up: crude, forceful, and a little desperate. Being polite hadn’t helped. Neither had being firm. When she was about to pull out the big guns and jam a stiletto right down on his foot when yet another hand appeared on her shoulder, firm and protective, she supposed, but at the time it was yet another annoyance with yet another creep.

When she glanced up at this new stranger though, there was no greedy grin or lips on her ear, rather an even glare sent over her head at her forced company. His arm around her was gentle, but solid, a comfort now she had time to think about it. He glare lingered on her pursuer for a moment before softening as he glanced down to face her.

“Oh hey babe,” he’d drawled, “sorry I’m running late- got held up with work. Who’s this wiseguy? Wanna find a table?”

Isabella knew what he was up to; it was all over the boy’s face as he silently urged her to understand what he was trying to do. But it was easy to see he was giving her a way out so she simply nodded.

“Thank you, honey,” was the even reply.

Neither had paid any attention to creepy cuntbo as they wheeled round and he let her guide him to a little table in the corner of the club and even held out a chair for her. It was only when they were seated and she was thanking him for getting her out of that situation was Isabella able to get a good look at her little knight.

Handsome was definitely the first thing to come to mind, with his chiselled jaw and kind eyes. The eyebrows however… well, she’d get used to them. She hoped.

They’d introduced themselves and gotten chatting, the guy surprisingly easy to talk to despite the blaring techno music and sweaty crowd- the smell so bad it was affecting her other senses too. So, Jean-Jacques was a native to Quebec, a professional figure skater from a family of figure skaters and in his spare time he volunteered at a homeless shelter. And in return, she told him about her business, even pulling a tablet out to show him the website she’d designed herself, and oh wow he’d actually seemed interested. Turns out the guy was somewhat of a romantic and loved hearing about the wild world of weddings and planning them. Of course, he himself preferred to think of the big day itself and how wonderful it would be to walk down the aisle, all eyes on him, just the way he liked things. Isabella had laughed at that, reminding him it was usually the bride who received the most attention, and actually walked down the aisle.

He really was a lot of fun to talk to, and it came as a great disappointment when he said he should make a move, that he had classes in the morning and didn’t want to show up tired and hungover because unlike his friends he wanted to be successful. Plus he’d done it once and thrown up on his homework in front of the class and they’d still not stopped taking the piss out of him because of it.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me out?” she’d asked at that. Isabella had been expecting it, after all. Or was he not into women and their conversation purely platonic? Either way, she’d like to remain friends at least.

“I figured you’d had enough of that tonight,” his face seemed to brighten though, “but if you insist, would you like to meet me next week sometime?”

“I would like that very much.”

When JJ fumbled for a pen, she handed him one, but neither had any paper on them so he improvised, writing his number on her forehead as he couldn’t get to her arms. It probably seemed more romantic in his head, but she thought it was cute. Well, at least they’d both laughed at the time, though he did mention several strangers had sent him strange texts because of it.

“A king would hardly let his queen fall,” JJ’s smooth voice brought her back to reality. Wow really? This was the second time she’d met him and he was going to straight up say that? It was rather sweet though.

“Your queen?” His hand was on her waist, guiding her smoothly across the ice. Maybe she was smiling a little at that. Sometimes she’d wondered what it would be like to have a boyfriend treat her like a princess, but a queen sounded way better. Suited her more.

“Well yes, if that’s okay,” an apologetic grin this time- he seemed to have quite the collection- “but I can’t have anyone less than a queen.”

“And you think I can be that one?”

“Well you have the makings to be, but I’ll need a few more dates to be certain,” he laughed. “If that’s okay with you.”

“It’s perfectly fine, thanks.”

Chapter Text

There were moments in Guang Hong’s life when he knew the best course of action would be to say a firm ‘no, that sounds like a terrible idea and something I’ll regret’ but deep in his heart, he knew the only thing he’d be saying was ‘let’s do this Leo. That’s a great idea, Leo’. ...I’m in love with you, Leo and would do anything for you down to watching the worst films in existence.

At this point, Leo didn’t even need ‘Viktor Nikiforov will be there’ to convince Guang Hong to do the reckless and ridiculous. He could do it with his own charm. Nothing Leo suggested they did was something Guang Hong would be genuinely uncomfortable with, or either illegal or immoral, just things that made him question what exactly his heart was doing here. It was now thanks to Leo that he’d taken Viktor Nikiforov’s actual real life boxers to the face; had stayed up til four in the morning swapping local memes when he had an exam the next day, purely because it was fun; prank-called half their friends; both dressed up as playboy bunnies last halloween to go trick-or-treating, which ended up in them receiving more money than candy; and end up buying a whole horde of stuffed animals every time they met up without fail.

Still, this would be a laugh. Sure, he’d hate himself, his life and worry for the future of cinema, but there would be a few laughs along the way, right?

Right?

Movie ‘dates’ between them were commonplace now, squeezed into whatever time they both had together that wasn’t interrupted by school, college, practice or much-needed sleep. First thing on the agenda was both their top favourites, get that squared out of the way, then films that had been banned or censored in each other’s countries and new releases neither had seen yet. When the pool of possible films to watch started becoming a little underwhelming, Leo suggested they go all out with finding films so bad they were an adventure. As something of a film snob, Guang Hong wasn’t sure he could see where the humour was there. Even when Leo put on ‘the Room’, Guang Hong had mostly been terrified. For humanity and every film industry in the world. It was agony. Torture. Only the start of a string of terrible ideas.

Over time, Guang Hong did find these late nights all the more enjoyable, no school or practice the next day, curled under his bedsheets in his and Leo’s own little world. Well, maybe Leo couldn’t be there in person, but Guang Hong could cuddle up to his tablet. Between Leo’s jokes and some genuinely unbelievable moments, Guang Hong found himself having to stifle laughter more often. He still felt bad for the world though.

There was no way one could not laugh in mild terror at the poorly animated Titanic musical with the rapping dog, though Leo’s laughter seemed to turn to sobbing at the singing mice. The other Titanic musical, the one where no one ended up dying, created more confusion than humour though, but even they had to laugh at the ridiculous plot. Foodfight was just straight up disgusting though, same with the bee-human relationship in Bee Movie.

And now, all Guang Hong had to do was read the title of the youtube video on their shared screen to know he was in for a long night.

Birdemic.

Birdemic…

Bird… demic...

BIRD-FUCKING-DEMIC?

Or to give it it’s proper title: Birdemic: shock and terror.

Shock and terror seemed to be pretty apt words here.

“Where do you find these?” he groaned.

On a webcam in the corner, Leo just shrugged. “Internet.”

“Why can’t you watch hentai like a normal person?”

“We can watch some of that together if it floats your boat, babe,” Leo told him slyly.

“Nah, my parents might walk in. Not that I’d want them to walk in and see me watching this either.”

“Shall we start then? I’m in the mood for some self-loathing.”

Guang Hong chuckled. “I’m not but play away.”

“Let’s do this.” Leo hit the play button, and after some poorly animated company logos, Guang Hong was greeted with a car scene. Not a car chase, but a guy driving his car along a country lane. For the first four minutes of the film. That was it. There were credits, of course, and some calming music; an overture? Really? Didn’t that go out of style in the sixties or something? Okay, not a terrible start, but it was a little dull.

“My favourite bit so far is the Portuguese subtitles,” Leo commented. “I think whoever wrote them’s brain broke from this.”

“I don’t speak Portuguese,” replied Guang Hong sadly.

“Neither can I, technically, but you don’t really have to to understand a sarcastic ‘Ator 10/10’,” he gave a slightly worried smile, “I should warn you, I’ve only seen one scene from this beforehand and… we’re in for a treat, let me tell you.”

“Yay,” Guang Hong groaned, “camera’s a bit… lopsided.”

“So’s his parking,” replied Leo once the overture had finally stopped and what was presumably the main character got out of his car.

“He looks lost.”

“And confused.”

When the main character finally entered a cafe, the waitress greeted him… or what Guang Hong thought was meant to be a greeting. It seemed more like a threat. Who edited this? “What the-”

“I’m gonna need to replay that.” Yup, the waitress definitely seemed to shout ‘hi’ at the protagonist. What did he ever do to her? Was it going to cut to a ‘one month earlier’ scene of him leaving a lousy tip?

“Why does the audio keep cutting out?” he asked.

“Because someone apparently got their cinematography degree free in a cereal box.”

“I wish those were really a thing.”

“I wish this wasn’t a thing.”

I wish we were a thing, Guang Hong’s brain slyly told him. He hoped he’d not said that out loud. It was hard to tell this late at night.

“Hot girl alert!” cried Leo, breaking Guang Hong’s heart ever so slightly. “What’s she doing in a movie like this?”

“Probably can’t act.”

“Yeah...”

“Did he just get up without ordering anything to chase after her? Who does that?”

“Yeah, wake up and smell the restraining order already!”

“He’s so creepy,” Guang Hong whined.

“And you were right, she can’t act,” replied Leo, “I mean, he’s still the worst, but-”

“Lee Seung Gil trying to be sexy is less wooden than him,” the boy finished helpfully.

“He’s creeping me out too,” Leo wrinkled his nose.

“I’m a fashion model.” “And a beautiful one too.”

“Ever seen an ugly model?” asked Leo.

“He’s running after her again?”

Leo burst out laughing. “She looks so uncomfortable leave her alone!”

“So are we just watching his day now?” asked Guang Hong after a few minutes, “like, his whole boring day?”

“Seems so.”

“Give this film all the awards. All of them.”

“Oh good, now he’s at work. Fucking riveting.” Leo flopped back in his chair, giving a groan like a dying buffalo.

“At least it’s going well from him.” The protagonist had started cheering, but even that sounded fake and half-assed. “I hope his office is more than fifty feet away from any modelling studios.”

“Speaking of which,” Leo nodded at a shot of said studio, “let’s see how she’s getting on.”

“Are we just watching her have photos taken in different clothes now? Yay.”

“Oooh, she got signed by Victoria’s Secret.”

“That easy, huh?”

“So they’re letting everyone’s dreams come true before they’re killed in the Birdemic? That’s nice of them.”

A few moments later, and Leo burst out laughing. “She has a flip phone? What the hell? Even my grandma has a smart phone.”

“This conversation’s so fake I’m surprised Phichit isn’t using it as makeup.” He didn’t know why he said that; Phichit was lovely. He’d probably have laughed at that anyway.

“That’s mean,” Leo chided, “they’re not very good at splicing each shot together though. Wow.”

And a few moments even later, Guang Hong was watching a basketball scene, for some reason. Or two guys giving up playing basketball because of a heatwave… in winter? Okay. “‘A day without sex is a day wasted man’? What on earth-”

“A day watching this film is a day wasted.”

“I had cake today; I wouldn’t consider that a day wasted.”

“I wish I had cake.”

“I wish we were watching something else.”

The next scene, however, was even more absurd.

“This guy’s installing a solar panel… is that all there was to that scene?”

“Seems so,” Leo gave a shrug.

“Where are the birds anyway? You promised me a birdemic, de la Iglesia.”

“Give it some time. There’s the bad romance plot to get out of the way first.”

And bad romance plot there was, complete with dates devoid of all chemistry. Really, it was the characters repeating pretty much what had happened in the movie already, with bad audio. It was so boring, in fact, that Leo left halfway through to make himself a Margarita. The cocktail, not the pizza. Guang Hong didn’t blame him, but it also meant Leo missed an actual moment with some chemistry involving the love interest talk about her cat.

“If I could afford it, I’d have at least ten of them.”

It was then that Guang Hong wondered, in horror, if this was actually a webcam filming one of Yuri and Otabek’s dates. He was going to throw up.

When Leo came back, complete with alcoholic drink, Guang Hong requested he pause the movie so he could sneak into the kitchen and grab a milkshake. Maybe they could make a drinking game out of it. The next scene involved Love Interest [he couldn’t remember any of their names] summarizing to her mother everything that happened. Leo downed his cocktail and went to make another.

“Did her mom suggest she get herself a sugar daddy?” he asked when they’d resumed watching.

“Best character in the whole damn film.” Guang Hong wondered if that’s what Yuuri’s mom had told him at some point.

“Please don’t let the two friends do it,” whined Leo, “I’m not sure I could take the weirdness.”

“Why does she have one plain white poster with ‘imagine peace’ on it? Who has that in their room?”

“She’s hot too,” Leo mumbled.

“If only she could act… if only any of them could...”

The next scene almost broke Guang Hong. “Are they just gonna… keep clapping… this whole time?”

“Whilst the audio keeps cutting out? Oh God.”

“Your God cannot help you anymore,” Guang Hong moaned.

“No really, that was the whole meeting? Them all clapping? Who made this?”

“Oh no wait, the guy’s friend has a remote controlled car. Think that was in his briefcase?” Guang Hong giggled, “it’s what I would take to a meeting.” Oh boy, did he just love Perpetually Horny Friend.

“-Chicks love cars, if you wanna get into their pants you better have a nice, hot ferrari.” “She’s my hot ferrari.”

“You’re my hot ferrari, Jiji,” said Leo with a lopsided grin, now on his third Margarita. Guang Hong really needed to have a word with him about that nickname...

“You’re mine, treasure.” Sometimes Guang Hong didn’t know if what they had was bromance or just straight up romance. That was also something he needed to talk to Leo about at some point, and was looking forward to it less than explaining Leo kept affectionately referring to him as ‘penis’. It was funny when they were alone, less so when walking down a busy street in Shanghai.

“Wow, a double date to see ‘an inconvenient truth’, how romantic.” Leo rolled his eyes. “And is that girl wearing an ‘imagine peace’ t-shirt?”

“Of course, guy who wants ferrari how wants an environmentally friendly car. This by any chance trying to push a clean energy agenda?”

“Maybe. Though to be fair, when I saw ‘an inconvenient truth’ I wanted to live in a cave.”

“If they wanted to make more of an impact with their global warming message, they should’ve set it here instead.”

“Is that guy’s friend talking about sex again?” Leo pulled a face, “he makes Chris look like a nun.”

“Funny image. Wish there were birds in this.”

“Give it time.”

So Guang Hong did. What he got instead was more stiff, lifeless romance right up to a drawn out dance scene in an incredibly empty bar. Seriously, just the main couple and the guy singing. Not to mention the dancing was less than impressive. Or was it impressive in how bad it is? It was like watching his parents, or a drunk Yuuri. No wait, drunk Yuuri was way more entertaining.

“I know what my next short programme music will be,” Leo commented with a laugh.

“Not if I do it first,” replied Guang Hong, grinning stupidly. He’d even steal the couple’s crap dance moves.

That scene, as long winded as it was, ended all too soon for them, and now they were faced with what could be the most awkward, wooden sex scene in the history of film. No really, it just looked like someone was filming to random people making out in their underwear. It was just unedited kissing on a bed… Oh God, was Leo showing him porn? He wished it was them in that motel. Was that what Leo was trying to say?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though because, at last, he was greeted with the birdemic. And boy was that worth the wait. He’d almost jumped out of bed at the sudden onslaught of screeching from what he assumed was poorly-animated birds.

“Holy fuck,” whispered Leo.

“Are those birds… dive bombing into houses and exploding… whilst making plane noises?” Guang Hong’s brain was on the verge of melting at this point. Oh, and the explosion effects were just as bad as the birds themselves. This was hell for him, but at the same time there was something glorious about it.

No wait, the animations of the birds hovering in the air was the worst special effect. He was going to cry.

“They’re just floating in front of those houses,” hissed Leo in disbelief, peeking out between his fingers, “there’s no attacking animation.”

“I know this is probably not what needs to be focused on,” said Guang Hong, “the couple are wearing the exact same clothes from the night before. They’re not even rumpled or anything, not even their hair.”

“Must’ve got tired from sucking face and not done anything else. Just gone straight to sleep.”

“Weak.”

Leo’s eyebrows shot up. “Christ. I’m almost scared to find out what it would be like to make lo-”

“Oh I’d cover you like a birthday cake. I would condition your hair with my jizz.”

“Dude, same,” Leo drew out the last word, grinning stupidly. “I’d bend you over like a car seat.” No wonder Phichit- along with everyone else- had no idea if they were dating or not.

“It’s late and I’m being silly,” Guang Hong tried to explain.

Leo wiggled his eyebrows and held up his glass, “don’t worry about it; I’ve not been adding lime juice to the last five of these.”

“You’ve had five...”

“Have you been watching this damn film?”

“Not recently, we’ve been talking.”

“Well the best scene’s about to come up,” Leo rubbed his hands in anticipation.

Guang Hong’s eyes flickered back to the video on screen. “Who’s this dude and why is he collecting coat hangers?”

“To fight the birds.”

“...Coat hangers?”

“I know right? They’re birds, not abortions.”

“Leo!”

Leo held up his glass again. “Five! Remember?”

“Bloody hell...”

“Here we go,” Leo grinned with glee and Guang Hong’s brain finally melted.

They were swatting at birds… with coat hangers. If that wasn’t enough, the birds were just poor animations, barely moving on the top layer of the shot. They weren’t hitting them, and the birds kept flapping, stationary. This was it, this was what was going to kill him.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, covering his face with his hands and keeping the tablet propped on his knees.

“Told you!” Leo had actually fallen off his chair laughing. He was purple in the face by the time he’d managed to climb back up.

“How long of this crap is there left to go?” he moaned.

“About forty minutes. Why?”

“I’m not sure I can make it,” Guang Hong wiped his forehead, “the birds got me… go on… without me… tell my wife I love her...”

“Babe please, hold on for me!”

“I… can’t...” And Guang Hong collapsed on his pillow, eyes shut and tongue lolling.

“Come on man stop fucking around we still have forty minutes of this shit to go.”

 

Chapter Text

If he didn’t know any better, Lee Seung Gil would say his boyfriend was pranking him. He’d suspected as much ever since Phichit first suggested… what on earth was wrong with the man? This had to be a joke, right?

If it wasn’t he was straight up jumping out of the window. In fact, he might just do it anyway.

But Phichit’s flushed face and darkened eyes as he nibbled at his bottom lip seemed genuine. Very genuine, in fact. Thick curtains blotted out the evening sunlight, one triangular strand illuminating a bare bronze shoulder, Phichit sprawled on the bed in nothing but a pair of white lacy boxers- manties, even if they didn’t turn Seung Gil the fuck on Phichit would’ve bought them for the name alone- and barely able to keep himself propped on his elbows. Oh, and he was wearing matching thigh-highs too. Forget everything else; Seung Gil wanted to jump on him right away.

But no, Phichit wanted a little ‘show’ first, in a costume Seung Gil had thought was a good idea at the time but now joined the many- many- embarrassing garments in boxes in his cupboard, until Phichit had found it again. Seung Gil had thought he would die from the humiliation when his boyfriend had first showed it to him, more so when Phichit, with the cutest blush, had asked him if he could wear it sometime. In bed.

He wasn’t sure which aspect- or aspects- Phichit found kinky, and he didn’t want to ask, but suspected it had something a little more to it than just the sensuously low neckline. He’d wanted to ramp up the sex appeal that year- because he wasn’t a goddamn android like some people believed- but hadn’t realised its effects would only be felt a few years later. Not that he’d bothered to check if his fans had found the performance appealing.

Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow. Seung Gil wiggled his hips in a way he hoped Phichit would like. Quick, quick, together. Quick, quick, together. And a mambo too. Just what was going through Phichit’s mind when he suggested this?

But it seemed to be working. Through his forced concentration on his own hips, Seung Gil saw one of Phichit’s hands twitch towards his boxers, but he restrained himself. Hey, Seung Gil wasn’t going to judge. Not vocally, at least.

He tried to just focus on the music, moving his arms and twirling to make sure Phichit got a good look at that butt he loved so much, along with the guy attached to it. When he turned back around, he made sure to stick his chest out, bending slightly so Phichit could get a good eyeful. At times he even forgot to be embarrassed.

But soon enough the music stopped, and with it whatever force had been chipping away at his inhibitions. He struck a pose, hand covering his face in a way he hoped looked coy but sensual.

“I love you so much,” was all Phichit cared to comment. And to think he’d gone to so much trouble...

“Lucky for you, I love you too,” maybe a tiny smile betrayed him there, when he was trying so hard to look disgruntled.

“Lucky for me indeed.” It seemed Phichit couldn’t hold back any longer, and slipped in a cheeky grab of his junk. Really? Was Seung Gil missing something here? What was the appeal of rainbow feathers?

“Can I take this off now?”

“Be my guest,” Phichit breathed. “Or better yet, let me take it off you.”

“I’d like that, actually,” Seung Gil moved closer, resting a knee on the corner of the bed; “don’t hold back now; just rip it off.” Make sure he’d never have to wear it again.

“Subtle.” Phichit sat up to pull his boyfriend back down on top of him, a hand on Seung Gil’s chest as he kissed him slowly, sweet and tender. Before Seung Gil could savour the moment though, Phichit had flipped him onto his back, straddling him and bombarding him with kisses all down his jaw and neck. When Seung Gil felt a nip, he inwardly sighed and resigned himself to a week of turtlenecks. Well worth it though.  

Never quite sure to to do here himself, Seung Gil ran his hands up and down Phichit’s back, dragging his nails across his shoulder blades whilst his neck was sucked and nibbled, the only pause being to gasp into his collarbone. At that, Seung Gil scratched ever so slightly deeper.

“What’s this?” murmured Phichit, pulling away and holding a bright red feather between them, delicately poised between his fingers.

“It’s a waffle toaster,” replied Seung Gil, “what does it look like?”

“An idea.” Oh fuck. There was that glint in his mischievous eyes. The one that never bode well for him. The corners of his mouth curled upwards as he licked his lips, glancing from the feather to his boyfriend’s flushed face.

Just what the fuck was he planning to do with that feather?

“Say, darling, are you ticklish?” Oh boy, he was pulling out the ‘darling’s and everything. At least the feather wasn’t going up anywhere though.

“No,” Seung Gil replied, a little too quickly. He’d better not-

“Oh really?” Phichit waved the feather in front of his nose, almost eliciting a sneeze from him. “So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” Quick hands ducked the feather downwards to brush against his already sore neck. Seung Gil bit his lip because there was no way in hell he was laughing.

He lasted all of two seconds.

“Stop it!” he spluttered. He wasn’t laughing. He wouldn’t. He was flailing like a fish though.

“Hey you lied to me!” Phichit seemed to be laughing for him now.

“Is this my punishment?” he asked slyly.

“If you want it to be!”

And it almost was, had Seung Gil’s knee not jerked up and caught Phichit in the stomach. Accompanied by profuse apologising, Phichit grunted and keeled over, lying in a ball on the bed.

“I’m so sorry!” babbled Seung Gil on repeat, “it was an accident!”

“I guessed you didn’t deliberately kick me,” the other mumbled, “maybe we should stop with the feathers now though.”

 

 

Chapter Text

He loved Leo de la Iglesia, he really did, but sometimes the guy could be a colossal bellend.

Not often, mind you, given that he was one of the sweetest people in existence and sunshine personified, but once a year the two of them just descended into an overly-competitive mess that brought out the worst in them. And funny enough, it was not at any figure skating event- because despite everything they would always support each other’s skating careers. Believe in each other. Inspire each other.

But their school sports day? An event that wouldn’t ultimately matter in ten or even two years? Oh they were going all out on that.

Maybe it was the fact that the school always picked the hottest day of the year, leaving Guang Hong a sunburnt, sweaty mess in a perpetual bad mood and less willing to tolerate others, even the love of his dramatic teenage life. Maybe he was sick of the fact that Leo had beaten him in javelin for four years now. There was nothing wrong with second place, and he knew it was pointless and they didn’t even get medals, but he just wanted to beat Leo dammit! This was his last year to succeed, and when he did, he would rub it in his stupid beautiful face. Ah, just his stupid face. His stupid one.

Guang Hong had kind of been hoping their competition would rile up the sexual tension over the years, but everything regarding that seemed tragically one-sided.

Right now the boys’ javelin competitors were milling about on the main field of the sports’ ground, watching the girls already competing, and waiting their turn. And, of course, six bored teenagers standing together with fried brains usually descended into foolishness pretty damn quickly. It was almost impressive.

“Me early man,” Leo grunted, lolloping around the field waving his javelin as their friend Phichit doubled over laughing and JJ joined in dragging his knuckles and stabbing at imaginary prehistoric wildlife, and Yuri and Otabek just looked mildly disgusted at the display; “me kill mammoth with spear, make fire, bring mammoth home to wife!” At that, Leo doubled over to catch Guang Hong by the stomach and lifting him onto a broad shoulder, almost spearing him in the process. Guang Hong squealed and wiggled, kicking out and catching him in the stomach. Leo grunted, but still managed to hold on.

“Oy!” Mr Cialdini, the P.E. teacher barked over at them, “put the poor boy down before you impale him!”

“Sorry sir,” Leo called back, gently setting Guang Hong down. “You okay man?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “but I’m not your wife, I’m the rival chief that’s gonna spear you in the chest and use your blood for my cave paintings.”

“That’s hot,” muttered Leo.

“You’re hot,” Guang Hong replied, half-joking. That was their relationship: some weird blur between romance and friendship that succeeded in confusing pretty much everyone- Guang Hong included- about what was really going on between them. They were the bestest friends in the whole wide world, but Guang Hong was never sure how to interpret all the flirting and gay jokes Leo threw at him, so just went along with it. That fact that he was secretly in love with him didn’t make matters any easier.

Either way, Phichit was convinced he was the third wheel here. In many ways he was, though the three were still close.

“Damn right I’m hot,” and the tension was gone as a pained expression graced Leo’s face, “I’m going to melt! My balls are just stuck to the inside of my thigh like my sweat is superglue or something.” For added emphasis, he tugged at his P.E. shorts. Guang Hong thought he would pass out, had he not been recoiling in horror.

“You’re disgusting!”

“I thought I was hot.”

“You’re both, like sticky melted ice cream.”

“I got something sticky and melted for ya,” Leo laughed at the absurdity of his own joke, “sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Guang Hong waved a hand, “hope you’re still up to giving it your best. I’ll destroy you this time and dance on your grave laughing.” He was going to do it. He was going to leave Leo and everyone else in the dust.

“Please I can only get so erect,” he sure did love giggling at his own words. At least someone was.

“Oy we’re starting now,” called Yuri, “stop being weird and throw some shit.”

Guang Hong was somewhat disappointed- and a little paranoid- that events unfolded in their usual manner: Yuri and JJ scored quite feebly due to heckling from the other and generally attempting to sabotage each other’s performances. Otabek scored decently, then wandered off to separate their inevitable fight behind the ice cream van. Phichit didn’t do so well, because he only signed up for this event to hang out with his friends for the entirety of this pointless day. And then came Leo.

“You’ll keep watching, won’t you?” he asked, voice calm and sober as he made his way to the starting line. His eyes seemed to sparkle with hope at that, casting an anxious glance back over his shoulder at Guang Hong. What was that all about? The boy oozed quiet confidence, like he already knew the world would be watching and that was one of the things that made his performance beautiful.

Even in his stupid bobbly polo shirt and hair soaked in sweat.

Guang Hong threw him a reassuring smile, and that was all Leo needed to get going. He took a run, javelin atop an arm reaching the sky like he was running into battle. With a noise caught between a grunt and a scream, he launched it into the air and fell to his knees as it flew.

The javelin landed with a thug, buried into the baked ground further than anyone else’s travelled. Leo pummeled the air as he gave a cheer.

“So,” he began once he climbed up and made his way back to his friends, “reckon you can beat that, Jiji?”

“Easily,” Guang Hong chirped, “though your posture was swaggie and your throw had yolo so I’ll have to try really hard to beat that.”

Leo visibly winced at that. “Err, thanks, I think.”

“Guang Hong, what the hell are you doing?” groaned Phichit.

“Trying my American.” For when he and Leo were married and living in L.A.

“You’re trying this American,” Leo joked, “good luck though.”

“Thanks.” This was his moment now. Time to shine. To be fair, he was so sweaty he was already shining like an old man’s bald spot.

He took a deep breath as he stepped up to the starting line, squeezing in one more stretch of his calves before launching into a run. He heaved his arm back before launching the javelin into the sky.

It flew like a missile, glinting in the sun before burying itself in the anaemic grass, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it travelled further than Leo’s. But he wasn’t about to celebrate before he knew for sure.

Mr Cialdini whipped out his measuring tape to dart after the javelin, giving a thumbs up when he reached it.

“First place! Well done Guang Hong!”

He couldn’t believe it. Guang Hong thought he would pass out from it all. The only thing he could do was grin as Leo and Phichit enveloped him from both sides and Leo wrenched him up to throw him in the air. Once he caught him, he cradled Guang Hong in his arms. The boy span him round once before setting him down.

“You did it!” he cried, “you beat me! I’m so proud!”

“You’re not mad?” asked Guang Hong.

“Not at all! Man, I won four times you really think I’d throw a sulk over you winning this time?” His smile widened as an idea struck him, and he got down on one knee. “May I kiss the winning hand?”

“You two get weirder every day,” muttered Phichit, trying to discretely whip out his phone.

“Sure thing,” Guang Hong beamed, gracefully holding out the back of his hand.

When Leo planted a chaste, wet kiss on his knuckles, Guang Hong thought he would finally vaporize there and then. In fact, he lost all ability to speak or think.

“Well isn’t that just the cutest.” Out of the corner of his eye, Guang Hong saw a flash of green and knew his bright red face as he was kissed would be talk of the school by tomorrow.

Chapter Text

“Bet you’ve never seen anything like this, huh?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Well, Leo was used to seeing New Year’s crowds, on his T.V. from Time Square, but never before had he found himself at the centre of such a crowd out in the cold of January. He’d never seen so many people crowded into one area, even when they’d found a dead dog in the middle of the school playground that one time, and everyone wanted to poke it. There was a better atmosphere though, even if it was freezing.


 

There were people everywhere, making their way further and further towards the waterside, while families and couples, and more than a few tourists stood together in clumps. Leo kept ahold of Guang Hong’s hand, afraid they’d separate in the crowd and that would be it. Neither were particularly tall, and he didn’t really want to get his phone out to text anyone out in a crowd of potential pickpockets. It was safe in his inside jacket pocket and that was where he’d like it to stay.

Guang Hong’s hand was still freezing in his, and Leo rubbed the beetroot-red tips of his fingers with his thumb in the hopes of massaging in some warmth. His other hand was stuffed in his puffer pocket whilst Guang Hong held onto a kebab, nibbling away whilst dragging him through wave after wave of people.

Leo could barely see through his clouds of breath, nose and lips numb, and he wondered at what point was he supposed to ask Guang Hong to warm them up with a kiss. Midnight. Fucking midnight. What kind of idiot was he?

They still had fifteen minutes to go though. The two had arrived a little late trying street food from pretty much every vendor they came across because it was so cold and they needed warming up. Plus they were out to celebrate.

What really got Leo was that today was the first of two weeks of celebration. He was down. He was more than down to spend two weeks in China on holiday, in Guang Hong’s apartment. Sharing a room. Spending every day training with him. It would be glorious.

And either made infinitely better or worse by his plans for midnight.

Naturally, he was beginning to have second thoughts about his kiss. Did people even do that here? Would he be upsetting Guang Hong if he went and kissed him? Still, at least he could just use the excuse that it was New Year’s and he got caught up in the moment. At least then things would only be a little awkward, and not unbearably so.

He should quit while he was ahead.

No, no one got anyway being a coward.

But what if he made an idiot of himself?

No, he had to do it.

“Leo,” Guang Hong piped up, “ten seconds...”

“Oh, it is,” his tongue felt heavy as the debate raged on in his mind. Next to him, Guang Hong was counting down but Leo found he couldn’t join in. Should he do it? Shouldn’t he?

By pure coincidence, Leo decided to go ahead as midnight struck, and he got an eyeful of the most incredible fireworks he’d seen before his vision was filled with flushed cheeks and freckles. He’d been aiming for the corner of the mouth, for collateral damage, but no, he’d missed and caught Guang Hong straight in his slightly parted lips, smacking their foreheads together for good humiliating measure.

Leo jumped back as fast as he’d dived in there. “I’m so sorry! It was-”

He didn’t get to finish his mess of an apology, thanks to Guang Hong grabbing him by the scarf and pulling him back down for a proper kiss, deep and slow and only pulling away two minutes into the year. “I thought you’d never get round to this. Saves me having to make the first move.”

Leo laughed at that. “Happy new year, Guang Hong.”

“Happy new year to you too, Leo.”

Chapter Text

 

Whilst they were more than willing to support each other in figure skating, put Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin at opposite ends of a snowy field and there would be no mercy. This was an all out war.

Otabek crouched behind his snow-trench, hastily scrabbling together snowball after snowball, desperate to make sure he had enough ammo to counteract the onslaught that was sure to come raining down on him at any moment now. He was a lone soldier, half-frozen in the snow, his entire battalion wiped out, but was he going to lie down and surrender? Like hell he was! Forget the white flag, the only thing he’d be waving was Yuri’s bloodied, dismembered braid in front of his weeping grandfather.

Maybe he should’ve gotten into writing war novels instead, or worked on containing his competitive energy in the ice rink. But right now all that really mattered was making snowballs and hoping his fingers didn’t fall off in these insane temperatures. Almaty was cold this time of year, but Moscow was stupid cold. Still, at least Yuri’s grandfather would most likely have a whole pile of steaming hot piroshki ready and waiting for them when they got home, and he and Yuri could eat them snuggled up under his duvet and blankets. Oh, and Yuri’s little cat could make a wonderful hot water bottle.

All he had to do until then was keep moving, and win the battle.

Yuri Plisetsky might be the beautiful, deadly ice tiger of Russia, a powerful fairy slicing the competition away with his skates, but Otabek knew he was the stronger of the two, physically anyway. It was simple really: make more snowballs than Yuri and hit harder until he surrendered. He worried about how fast Yuri was, though, how he could sneak around like an actual big cat preying on a tiny gazelle.

Except he wasn’t some helpless animal, he was a hero, a soldier. He would not be caught unawares.

Just as he thought that, a snowball grazed the top of his head, landing splat against a tree as he wheeled round to glare at his assailant.

“So we’re starting then?” he called over. He supposed he should feel lucky that he was the only person Yuri didn’t use rock-loaded snowballs against when fighting.

“What did you think this was? A gentleman’s duel?” Yuri poked his head over his trench to laugh, “nah bro! This is war!”

“Is that so, bro?” Well then, Otabek threw his manners out the window, then a snowball straight in Yuri’s silly, beautiful face.

“Hey!” He was beetroot red now, skin probably toasty to touch as he shook snow from his hair into the collar of his coat. Yuri let out a squeal from the cold, ducking down as another snowball was hurled in his direction.

He might have heard Yuri scream that he was dead, and a rare smile graced Otabek’s face. Oh this was getting real serious now.

“Forget the trenches, we die like men!”

Oh boy, an angry kitten running around in the snow; that should be fun. Otabek pulled himself to his knees, piercing his opponent with eye-lasers as Yuri charged, over the top like a world war one teen soldier, hurling snowball after snowball in his general direction, as Otabek sniped his own back with surprising accuracy.

A snowball caught Yuri in the knee and he collapsed into a bank.

“Easy,” Otabek announced to his groaning boyfriend, the only parts of him visible being his gangly legs and leopard print uggs, flailing madly. Just to be on the safe side, he armed himself with a pair of snowballs and approached the fallen soldier.

“Do you surrender?” He asked, mock-harsh tone to his voice.

Yuri gave no reply except for a long groan.

“I said, do you surrender?”

Otabek received an answer in the form of a handful of snow to the chest.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.” He leaned forward, rather boldly, and splatted both snowballs one after another right in Yuri’s face.

“How dare-!” Yuri hooked his boot around Otabek’s ankle, pulling him down and into the deep snow with a huff. Before he could even react, Yuri was piling snow on top of him, the stuff tumbling into every crack and crevice it could, especially through the folds of his scarf and down his coat, making him give an uncharacteristic screech.

“I surrender!” he cried, “have mercy!”

“Sorry, babe,” Yuri purred, “I’m not taking prisoners today.” He leaned forward, with clear intent regarding Otabek’s lips, but the owner of said lips decided to go and spoil the moment instead.

“That’s against the Geneva convention, you bastard.”

“Oh for the love of God, Beka!”

Chapter Text

They’d known each other for years now, lived through moments like this countless times before, but Guang Hong still got breathless with anticipation at the thought of what he was moments from. It didn’t matter whether it was China or America, or even anywhere else, travelling or waiting, his heart squeezed and pulled in his chest at the thought of finally being in Leo’s arms again. He could almost taste Leo’s lips on his tongue, smell that aftershave, feel that hair tickling his nose and ears. Guang Hong dragged his suitcase behind him, lost in a crowd of grim-faced businessmen and wealthy tourists, in his own world as he worked at the lump in his throat and sleep in his eyes. The last thing he needed was to croak out something that barely resembled a ‘hello’.

He trudged into arrivals, blinking slowly as he searched for a familiar face. He’d tried sleeping on the plane, but all that had done was given him a cramp in the neck. His hair was untamed and eyes weighed down by grey bags, but the moment Leo saw him, the man broke into a smile so radiant, like he was staring at an angel, or beautiful deity.

“Leo!” He broke into a run at that, dropping the handle of his suitcase before bowling Leo over with a hug. At long last, together again like things were meant to be. It was the real Leo, not a screen or grainy voice, a photo or a message. It was a sturdy, cushioning body under him, hot laughing breath on his cheek, soft stubble against his lips as he kissed every inch of his boyfriend’s face. He wasn’t even one for PDA, not in the slightest, but it had been so long, way longer than usual because everything that could go wrong or get in the way had done just that until he was crying out his frustration in the early hours of the morning after a rather dejected and lackluster video call.

“Glad to see you too,” Leo muttered with a laugh. He was growing out his hair, it seemed, now down to his shoulder blades in a messy ponytail, as seemed to be the trend among their friends. Guang Hong, on the other hand, after trying every colour he felt would remotely suit him was back with his natural chestnut, longer and fluffy with an undercut he hoped made him look more mature. 

“You’ve changed so much.”

“You haven’t.”

Leo barked out a laugh, scrambling to pull them both to their feet and collect Guang Hong’s luggage before it could be lost. Then he pulled his boyfriend into a thankfully less suffocating hug.

“I hated being so far from you,” he muttered into Guang Hong’s hair, tickling his scalp. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but…”

Guang Hong nodded, burying his face in Leo’s coat. There had been so many times over the years when he’d been lonely, when he simply couldn’t pretend the bear he was cuddling was Leo, but over the past few months there’d been something more frustrating for him. They were both close to retiring now, and even though Guang Hong knew he had a couple years left, he worried for what the future held for him, them.

He wanted to go to America. He wanted to be an actor and live with Leo in a luxury house in L.A. And they would have twenty cats who were all their children, and a pool, and maybe a bar in the basement where they could invite their friends for drinks and general stupidity. Oh, and they’d have a king size bed covered in satin blankets and dozens of pillows. But, of course, that was not something he’d ever tell Leo. It was just too embarrassing. He probably had his own plans for the future.

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” Leo added, and Guang Hong tried not to let the sinking in his chest get to him.

They were never meant to last, it seemed. How could he kid himself otherwise for so long? It was just too much. Friendship had been fine, they’d managed, but this? The commitment and responsibility? An actual adult relationship? He was just happy they’d lasted as long as they did, his told himself as his eyes and throat stung.

“I can’t keep saying goodbye to you like this. I don’t want to keep watching you fly across the damn ocean and not know when I’d see you again.”

“So this’ll be the last time?” mumbled Guang Hong.

“Damn right it will be.” Leo pulled them apart, fumbling around in his pockets for something. Apparently finding it, he got down on one knee and presented a little velvet box before him, opening it to reveal a simple, but elegant gold band.

Wait, what? He wasn’t getting dumped? Leo was… oh this wasn’t real.

“I want to spend forever with you,” Leo’s voice came out hoarse, a self-conscious blush as they attracted an audience of dough-eyed onlookers. “I want us both to live together, as husbands. Please. I’ve loved you for years now, and I wouldn’t want to spend forever with anyone else.”

He broke into a teary smile.

“Ji Guang Hong, will you marry me?”

Guang Hong was going to faint. No wait, he was going to cry like a baby right here in the middle of this crowded airport. And he did.

“I’ll have to think about it,” he sobbed jokingly, “can I get back to you in a week or so?”

“Oh forget it,” Leo closed the box with a huff, corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“Yes you fool!” he knew he was a mess, weeping and laughing coming together as a noise that resembled a hiccup. “Of course I’ll marry you!”