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Scott Moir’s mother raised him right. She taught him to say please and thank you, hold doors open for strangers and to always put others first. He prides himself on following all of her rules to the letter. It hasn’t been difficult, because he’s never wanted to do the wrong thing. That is, until he meets Tessa Virtue.
He hears about her before he sees her. When he and his partner, Lindsay arrive at their new training rink in Canton, Michigan, she's the topic of a great deal of speculation and gossip. He tries not to listen because that would be on the list of things his mother would not approve of, but Lindsay feels the need to fill him in on all the details. If Lindsay wasn’t his partner he wouldn’t spend any time with her but because she is, he nods and listens.
“Apparently,” Lindsay says with too much glee. “She’s been gone for a couple of months and no one knows where she’s been.”
Of course, he knows who Tessa is. As Canada’s great white hope to finally win a second Olympic gold medal in ladies skating, and one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, how can he not.
“She either was suspended for her terrible attitude or she was pregnant and had to go get things taken care of, wouldn’t be much of a surprise given how much she sleeps around,” Lindsay continues. She may have been talking for awhile. It’s surprisingly easy to tune her out.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asks in the hopes that she’ll stop and they can get back to skating.
“Because she’s coming back to the rink tomorrow.”
He hears her before he sees her. Hears her when he comes out of the change room and is walking down the hall to the rink, because she’s cursing a blue streak at her coach, Igor. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard such colourful language and volume come to of such a small body. The language is all but forgotten as he finally really lays eyes on her. If he thought she was beautiful before, it’s nothing compared to the slight before him.
She’s definitely stunning but what he wasn’t expecting is how incredibly sexy she is too. As she screams an impressive string of expletives at her impassive coach, he notices the red that creeps across her cheeks and down her collar bone. His eyes unwittingly travel down her body to where her shirt is knotted revealing very toned abs and a belly button ring that almost winks at him. He never considered piercings tantalizing until this moment and now it’s all he can think about.
It’s not just her body, it’s the confidence in her stance, her slightly husky voice and the way she draws all the attention in the room right to her. He should be horrified by her behaviour, not turned on.
“Who does she think she is?” Lindsay’s sharp voice pulls him out of his haze.
“Oh, um,” he can’t quite work out the right answer.
“Scott, don’t even think about it. She’s poison.”
“Oh, I wasn’t.” He lies to himself.
It takes a long time for them to officially meet and it’s not under the most ideal circumstances, at least for him, Tessa seems to enjoy it quite a bit, if the moans are any indication.
Of course, they train at the same rink so he sees her all the time, but she keeps to herself and Lindsay seems pretty determined to keep him in a bubble with the other dancers. They’re on ice in different sessions, so their only interactions come when they occasionally cross paths entering or exiting the ice. Usually, she looks him up and down, and raises an eyebrow, but never says a word. He’s not sure he could form words around her, even if he could think of something to say.
He figures it probably would have gone on like that indefinitely, if he hadn’t stayed late at the arena one night. Igor had given them a new lift that was more difficult than anything they’d done before and they just can’t get it right. Lindsay wants to cut it and go back to the one they used the year before, but he’s determined and knows it’s his job to figure it out. He stays late, long after everyone is gone, first on the ice until the night crew kicks him off and then off ice until he’s sure he understands the mechanics of what he needs to do.
Since the arena is nearly dark, he assumes he’s alone, so he’s more than a little startled when he walks into the change room to find two people there. More accurately he walks into the change room to find a completely naked Tessa Virtue draped across a bench and being serviced by a man he’s never seen before. Her devastating face is the picture of satisfaction and he can’t help stare at her. Can’t take his eyes off her. Only her. The man with his face between her legs, might as well not even be in the room. Even when her eyes fly open and she realizes he’s standing there, he can’t look away.
Instead of screaming, or sending him away, she just locks eyes with him and moans a little louder. He knows that he should walk away, that it’s the right thing to do, but he’s never been less interested in doing the right thing in his life. He's rooted to the spot as she moves the hand she had resting on her forehead, down her face, across her lips and then slowly down her throat until she finds a nipple and tugs. The moan she lets out is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He can’t stop the noise that spills out of his lips and her eyes bore deeper into his in response.
He watches her hand as it explores her body always checking back in to see if she's still staring at him. She always is, and every time he checks it’s almost as if she’s enjoying him watching her more than she’s enjoying what the mystery man is doing to her. He’s impossibly hard just from watching her and knows he’s going to have to ask some higher power for forgiveness when this is over. Why does something so wrong feel so right?
She uses her hand to pull his attention back to her face and he can see the orgasm building there, rides it with her as they stare at each other. Feels it in his whole body when she comes with a shout.
He backs out of the room before her friend has a chance to notice him there. Her eyes follow him and the last thing he sees is her smirk and wink as he flees.
All he can think as he drives home in a state of perpetual arousal, is that he could have done a much better job. He refuses to touch himself when he gets home, because he knows there’s no chance he’ll be thinking about his girlfriend and his mind keeps telling him that’s wrong even if his body doesn't agree.
In the days that follow, she watches him from across the rink. He knows because he spends all his time watching her. Can’t stop thinking about her. He almost calls his girlfriend and confesses everything, but really what’s that going to do other than ease his guilty conscience?
He almost thinks she’s not going to say anything until she grabs him in the hallway and shoves him into a custodian’s closet slamming the door behind her. He’s terrified and so very, very turned on.
“You didn’t tell anyone.” It’s half accusation half compliment and he’s momentarily stunned into silence. His silence isn’t helped by the fact that she’s wearing the hottest outfit he’s ever seen. A short denim skirt that just barely makes it past her ass, a t-shirt for a band he’s never heard of and a leather jacket. She’s the kind of girl his mother always warned him about and in that moment he can’t fathom why.
“How come?” she demands when he stares at her combat boots instead of answering.
“Why would I tell anyone?” He's horrified. And terrified. And ridiculously turned on.
“Because all anyone does around her is gossip about my sex life.” She says as she comes closer to him, invading his space but not actually touching him. “So, Scott Moir, how old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-two,” and of course his voice chooses that moment to crack, when it’s hasn’t cracked once in over two years.
“Sure.” She moves closer so their noses are almost touching, but not quite. “Then why did you look like a petrified virgin when you walked in on me?”
“I…” How is he supposed to have coherent thoughts when all but one of his senses is overwhelmed by her? He’s so desperate to give in to sense number six that he flexes his hands just to keep himself steady.
“You’re not are you?” Her lips are millimetres from his. All he has to do is lean…
“Not what?”
“A virgin?”
“No.” His denial comes out louder than he intended. He’s not, but he’s only slept with his girlfriend. Doesn’t think she would be impressed with his self restraint.
“Too bad. That would have been fun.” She leans into him and licks the seam of his mouth before exiting the closet like a hurricane.
“Fuck,” he breathes. He doesn’t like to swear, his mother doesn’t approve. But Fuck.
“You’re so much better than her,” she whispers into his ear, one afternoon. He was so busy watching Lindsay on the ice with Marina, that he hadn’t even noticed Tessa’s approach, until she was sitting behind him.
“I, uh, I don’t think that’s true,” he stumbles over his words because it seems to be a requirement that he act like a complete idiot around her.
“But haven’t you heard. You’re some kind of skating prodigy.” She climbs over the seat and settles in beside him. “Best footwork in the business.”
“I guess some people say that.” He hates when people say it. Makes it seem like he didn’t earn everything he’s achieved. Like it wasn't hard work and sacrifice that got him there.
“You’d have a better shot at making it to Vancouver with a better partner.” There’s no malice in her statement, even though the words are like steel. “She makes you do all the work in the lifts and her core sucks.”
“We’ve been partners for a long time.” Almost a decade now.
He knows that Lindsay isn’t as good as him. That she doesn’t work as hard, or want it as badly. And yes she’s more interested in the quality of her costumes than her edges, but she’s his partner. They’ve been through so much together. He would never turn his back on that.
“Loyalty,” she says with what sounds like admiration. “It’s a trait a few more people could use.”
“It’s…” She renders him speechless.
“The other problem is you.”
“Me? I thought I was God’s gift to skating?”
“Oh, he's funny too,” she snorts, and he’s desperately proud of himself. “Yes, you, but you’re not ready for that truth yet.”
“I..”
“What are you doing tonight?” she cuts him off and moves her hand to his thigh. He watches as she moves it up and down, getting closer and closer to his cock with each pass. His whole world narrows to her hand, and how desperately he wants her to sweep just a little higher. And how very, very bad an idea that would be.
“I have a girlfriend,” he finally manages to choke out.
Her hand instantly stills. Dangerously close to where he wants it to be.
“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow and looks even more intrigued. “I haven’t seen her around.”
“She lives in Canada.” He knows how stupid his answer is the second it leaves his mouth. Doesn’t need her bark of a laugh for confirmation.
“Isn’t that what they all say?” she sweeps her hand up his thigh, lightly palms him and walks away. It’s relief and torture all at the same time.
It takes him a full minute to start breathing again.
His girlfriend comes to visit. And he's so relieved. She’s like a ray of sunshine wherever she goes and he needs the distraction for the decidedly dark places his mind has traveled since his move.
He’s determined to focus all of his attention on her. Use her lightness to ease his burden and it works until he lays her down in his bed and all he can think about is someone else. How the brief times Tessa touched him are better than anything he’s ever done with the woman he supposedly loves. When he comes, it’s the wrong name on his lips.
They break up the next day and she seems almost relieved. Promises they’ll stay friends. They won’t, but it’s nice to pretend. He’s not sure if the breakup is the best or worse idea he’s ever had.
“You’re always watching her. It’s affecting your skating.” Lindsay spits at him after she misses the lift. Again.
Usually he just accepts her baseless accusations. She needs him to accept the blame for her mistakes so they can feel like equals and he’s never minded the compromise before. But he can’t this time, because it’s a lie. Tessa may invade ever moment of his mind but when he’s not on the ice, but when he’s there he’s focused on his job and nothing else.
“Maybe you could spend less time worrying about what I do and spend more time learning how to engage your core instead. Maybe then we’d be able to do the lift.”
Her face crumples and silence engulfs them. He’s never snapped at her before. Not in ten years of partnership and countless justifiable incidents. She looks at him as if she wants to slap him, as if he’d just slapped her.
“I don’t like who you’re becoming over that slut.”
She storms off the ice before he has a chance to answer.
But the reality is, he’s not sure he’s ever liked who Lindsay is.
Tessa shows up to practice with a brand new nose ring to match the one taunting from her belly. She winks at him as she enters the arena and he can hear Lindsay’s huff of disapproval across the room. Igor explodes when he sees her and they scream at each other for the next twenty minutes before he finally lets her on the ice.
“The judges are going to mark her down for that.” Lindsay informs him.
“It’s her body. She should be able to do what she wants.”
“No one owns their body in skating,” she answers. It’s the wisest and most painful thing she’s ever said to him.
He waits for her after practice. Tries to look busy so it doesn’t seem like he’s waiting, but he runs out of things to do after a half an hour, so he finally gives in and sits in the stands, pulls out a book and reads. Lindsay clicks her tongue at him as she leaves, and he can hear her talking about Tessa with her friends as she exits the building.
“That’s a good one?’ Tessa says as she plops down in the seat beside him. He was so engrossed, he didn’t even notice her leave the ice.
“You’ve read it?”
“Yeah, I know. Tessa Virtue reads?” she mimes shock and horror.
“Of course you read.” He can’t quite understand why she thinks so little of herself or of him. “But this one just came out.”
“I read it last night,” she answers with a shrug, and cuts him off before he has a chance to respond. “You were waiting for me?”
There’s no point in denying it and he’s not sure he wants to. “You’re protecting your right leg and not following through after your jump. That’s why you’re not landing your triple lutz.”
She stares at him and for a brief moment lets her mask drop. But just for a moment. “I thought you were going to take me up on my offer.”
“Are you injured?” he pushes forward, won’t let her distract him.
“Something like that.”
“I think if you could even get another inch on your follow through, you could land it, even if it is painful.”
“What’s a little more pain these days.” She stands up and walks away, limping slightly. It’s not something that a casual observer would notice but he's become an expert in how she moves. She stops before he’s out of earshot. “Anyway, thanks.”
He watches her until she’s gone, packs up his stuff and heads home for a quiet night with his book.
They end up at Skate Canada together, although they barely see each other with their conflicting schedules. He’s never been more nervous heading into a competition. Their free dance is still a bit of a mess. Lindsay misses the lift at least a third of the time and Marina won’t leave him alone about taking charge and being the man in the program. If she says the word passion to him one more time he’s going to lose his mind.
Their first two segments go well, but they’re in second, when they want to be in first, and he’s not sure their free dance is going to be enough to overcome it. He can’t find that calm, inner place that he always goes to when he’s competing and their warm up is a disaster. He misses the twizzles the first round, she does on the second and both of them are off on the third try. When they get off the ice, Lindsay already looks tired and done and Marina looks like she’s going to blow a gasket.
He separates himself from all the people he’s disappointing and searches the crowd for a familiar face, even though he knows his family couldn’t make it to the competition this time. He’s about to give up hope, when he sees her in the stands. Tessa isn’t watching the skaters on the ice. She’s watching him.
She’s watching him and he knows she wants him. Looks like she’s consumed by him. He knows because if he had a mirror, he’d see the same expression on his face. She stares at him and he stares back and it’s like the whole arena melts away. It’s just the two of them, as stares at him and slowly licks her lips. He runs his hand through his hair and tries not to vocalize the groan he can feel in every part of his body.
They stare at each other until Marina, taps him on the shoulder and tells him it’s time. He can feel Tessa’s eyes on him as he takes the ice and he grips Lindsays waist a little harder than normal. The music starts and he does something he’s never done before. He doesn’t think about his partner. He thinks about the woman in the stands. Thinks about how good she’d feel under his hands, all the things he’d like to do to her, and all the things he’d like her to do to him. Lets his mind journey to that place he’d studiously been avoiding.
It should distract him. Ruin his concentration. But he skates better than he ever has in his life. Wills Lindsay through her lift. Hits every beat of his choreography.
When they leave the ice Marina thumps him on the back and says, “That’s the passion I was talking about.”
They win, because how can they not, but the celebration is hollow, because when he looks for her afterwards, Tessa is gone.
Tessa’s free skate is a disaster. She misses three of her jumps and falls from first to third. Worse the judges give her a terrible score for her artistry, even though she’s by far the most elegant skater on the ice. Igor makes a point of telling her it’s because of her nose ring. She just smiles beatifically at him, but her eyes betray her real feelings.
Scott’s approach to the party at the end of any competition is to go, have one beer, and leave early. He’s not sure how he feels about the loss of control that comes with two beer Scott and he doesn’t want to have to hold Lindsay’s hair while she pukes. He’s consumed his one beer, talked to the people who expect it and is about to leave when Tessa walks in.
She locates him immediately, but doesn’t come over, instead making eye contact with him as she crosses the room and gets a drink. She downs half of it before she starts to make her way towards him. He waits, while she snakes across the room, occasionally stopping to talk to someone. She never stops looking at him, so he stays rooted to his spot.
“Good free dance,” she says when she finally makes her way to him.
“I like it,” he stumbles over his words and then tries again. “The nose ring.”
“You might be the only one.” She chuckles. “Drink?”
She offers him the glass she's holding. He hesitates because it looks like gin or vodka and he’s never been one for hard liquor. When he hesitates, she raises an eyebrow at him and he grabs the the glass out of her hand and downs it in one gulp. The liquor burns enough that he’s not even sure what he drank.
“Wanna dance?” she asks, cocking her head towards the dance floor. There’s always a group dancing at these parties, even when there’s no dance floor or DJ. He doesn’t usually partake, but the way she bites her bottom lip, works it with her lip is enough to convince him.
He can’t do anything but nod his consent, and she takes the empty glass from his hands and leads him to the dance floor.
It’s already packed and no one pays them the slightest attention as they join the crowd of lewd bodies. Tessa starts working her hips almost immediately, and she's such a good dancer, so in touch with the music that he just watches her.
She smiles, what feels like the first real smile she’s ever given him, and puts his hands on her jean clad hips, so close to her piercing, on display just below her cropped top. She turns around so her back is to him and returns to swaying to the music. This time he follows. Naturally falls into the rhythm she sets. Again the world narrows down to her. Everyone in the room fades away, the music becomes a low pulse in his brain, but with her this close, how can he possibly think about anything else.
As they dance, she moves her ass closer to him a fraction at a time until she’s pressed tight against him, grinding in time to the music. When she can’t get any closer, he takes a chance and swipes both his thumbs across the bare skin at her waist. She moans. He does it again and she slams back against him. The third time, he does what he’s been wanting to do for as long as he’s know her. He reaches out across her stomach and gives the ring a tug.
“Moir,” she hisses and turns round to face him. Drags her hand down his chest to his cock, which is so hard, it’s almost painful. “I really, really need someone to make me feel better. Do you think you can do that for me?”
He nods and tugs again, before she leads him out of the room.
She takes him to her room, which both surprises and pleases him.
Once they’re inside she pushes him up against the door and steps far enough away that he can’t touch her. The alcohol is starting to zing through his veins, but he's only drunk on her, as he watches her slowly remove the skin tight t-shirt she was wearing. She follows the same slow, torturous process with her jeans, never losing eye contact, but never making a move to come any closer. Even when she standing in just her bra and panties, a surprisingly lacy light pink, she stays just out of reach.
“Now, you said you could make me feel better, do you really think you can do that?” she asks, running her hand causally down the side of her breast, and across her stomach.
“Yes,” he manages, and forces himself to keep his hands at his sides lest he do something stupid like touch his dick like an inexperience teenager.
“But, here’s the problem. I’m not sure I believe you. Because I like I man who can take charge, and I’m not sure that’s you.” She reaches behind her back and undoes the clasp on her bra but doesn't let it fall off. “Because it seems to me, you’ve spent your entire life letting people tell you what to do.”
He nods in response, because it’s the truth.
“But I think,” she lets the bra fall to the ground and all the air leaves his lungs. “I think you desperately want to be in charge and you’ve been holding back all these years. Is that what it is or are you really as good a boy as you pretend to be, Scotty?”
He’s on her in a flash. He fucking hates being called Scotty and one look at the smug smile on her face as he pushes her down onto the bed, tell him she knows. So, he feels no particular guilt when he drags her panties down her legs and tears them in the process.
“Open your legs,” he growls at her as he stands over the bed. Her face is full of shock and desire, but she does what he says. “Wider.”
She opens them even wider and licks her lips. It’s the lewdest thing he’s ever seen.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks as he strips off his shirt.
“Whatever I want.” She moans so loud, he thinks he might come in his pants. He takes two quick breaths to steady himself and the lowers himself down and holds himself over her in a plank. She tries to kiss him but he pulls away. “And you’re going to do whatever I tell, you aren’t you?”
“Moir…”
“Because I have a theory about you, the same way that you have theories about me,” he makes for her lips, but misses them in favour of her neck. That neck he's been thinking about for months. He sucks and nips and bites at all the places he finds. Leaves marks and doesn’t care. Doesn’t care if people know that he did it. “Are you going to do whatever I say?”
“Anything you say,” she agrees desperately.
He doesn’t bother with the rest of her body, immediately leaves her neck and finds himself eye to eye with her pussy. He hasn’t been able to stop himself from thinking about eating her out since he walked in on her. Her legs are still wide open for him. Turns out she's an excellent listener.
He takes in her scent for a moment, wants to know this part of her as well as he plans to get to know the rest of her. And then he looks, stares at the beauty of her spread out before him, before he finally lets himself touch her. First he lets his fingers explore, listens for what makes her moan and gasp. Everything he does pleases and he can hear her breath rapidly speeding up, but he doesn't want her to come on his fingers, he wants her in his mouth.
He pushes her legs closer together, and she follows without question.
“Good girl,” he praises before takes her in his mouth, mapping mound with his tongue.
He’s not sure if the moans are from the name or the pleasure. He doesn't care. Just takes his time with her, before he pushes her legs open again and sets to work. Mapping her, fucking her with his tongue. Finally, once she’s writhing so hard he has to hold her down, sucking her clit in his mouth. He alternates his tongue and teeth until she’s panting and when he knows she’s close when, he feels her grab his hair, he sucks as hard as he can and pulls her piecing at the same time. She comes with a scream.
He stays where he is, rest his hand on her stomach, gently plays with her piercing until she returns to her body.
“Don’t you continue to surprise,” she rasps at him, tugs at his hair until he lies beside her on the pillow. He doesn’t tell her, but he surprised himself. He definitely never done anything like that with his girlfriend, who never wanted him to go down on her. Was somewhat mystified by the idea that he’d want to.
“My turn,” she says and starts to work the belt on his pants. He’s so hard, that it hurts when she brushes him.
“You don’t…” he starts but sees the disappointed look in her face and stops talking and instead pushes her head down towards his cock. Watches as she frees him from his pants and licks her lips at the sight of him.
“If you do a good job,” he says, tilting her chin up to look at him, finding that Scott from a few minutes before. “I’ll make you come again.”
She smiles at him before she engulfs him with her mouth. And it takes all the willpower and stamina he possesses not to come in that instant.
He makes her come three times and then goes back to his room. He fucks her with his fingers and his tongue but not his cock. He’s not ready for that. He might lose his mind and his soul to her if he does.
When they return to the rink, she ignores him and he thinks that it must just be a one time thing. That maybe they did enough to get each other out of their systems. For her to get him out of her system because she’s all he can think about. Replaying that night over and over in his head. He’s skating like a man possessed. Marina looks at him likes she found Jesus. And even though, Tessa won’t look at him, he decides it’s all for the best because he would absolutely lose himself to her if it continued.
And it is, until Tessa had a particularly horrible practice, one where she can’t land anything and Igor tells her she’s fat and a disappointment. She laughs in Igor’s face. Calls him old and senile. When she looks across the rink and finally meets Scott’s eyes, he knows she needs him.
When practice ends, he demands she meet in the closet, makes her wait for him for ten minutes and then uses his tongue on every part of her body until she’s shivering and begging him for release. It only takes three thrusts of his fingers before she comes hard enough that her legs give out. He catches her before she can fall. Thinks he could spend a life time catching her.
He holds her in the closet while she cries in frustration, anger and release. Kisses her lips and tells her it’s going to be ok.
Unfortunately, Tessa’s not the only one having trouble with skating. Lindsay can’t seem to get anything right. Their lifts are a disaster, she can’t hit a twizzle to save her life and starts having trouble with stuff they mastered when they were kids. They have to pull out of NHK claiming injury, just so they don’t embarrass themselves. Lindsay starts staying out late, drinking too much and won’t believe this is a temporary set back no matter how often Scott reassures her.
When she just doesn’t show up for practice one day with no explanation and no phone call, Scott knows he has to do something. He’s just not sure what it is.
“She’s not a good partner for you.” Marina says, sitting down beside him in the stands where he’s been watching other people use his practise time.
“She’s going through something. I’ll help her figure it out.” He feels like he’s failed as a partner.
“Yes, yes. We all go through things. That’s not what I’m talking about.” Marina says and speaks to him in a voice he's never heard her use before. “You are a one in a generation talent and Lindsay is merely a good skater, but this is not what I mean either. You have the drive and passion to go all the way, to be the very best. I think you would give up anything to win that medal? No?”
He shrugs because he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true.
“Lindsay, doesn’t feel the same and never will, no matter how much you want her to. You need someone with the same drive as you. Someone with the same passion, who will be your equal.”
“I’m not going to find another partner. I made a promise to Lindsay.”
“Your loyalty is admirable, if stupid.” Marina pats him twice on the thigh, shakes her head and walks away.
Lindsay is back at the rink the next day, with no explanation. He doesn’t bother demanding one. She’s skating better, but like a robot, won’t look him in the eyes and only speaks in monosyllables. He’s so frustrated by the end of practice that he finds Tessa, shoves her into the closet and orders her on her knees. She looks like she’s been given a gift when she takes him in her mouth.
The holidays offer him a much needed respite from his troubles at the rink. It’s good to be around people who love him for him, not because of what he can do on the ice. His brothers, who treat him like one of the guys and stuff snow down his jacket and make him play pool late into the night. His dad, who’s quiet confidence and steady mood is all he could ever aspire to. And his mother, who’s thrilled when he helps with the dishes and vacuums the living room without asking.
At the airport, she tells him how proud she is of him, what a good boy he is.
All he can think about is what Tessa’s face looks like with his come all over it and he knows he’ll never be the man his mother sees.
They make the Worlds team by the skin of their teeth. Finishing third on the roster, two places below where they should have been. Tessa skates in pain and claims second, he's the only one who notices the pain. She makes the team on the strength of her result from the year before.
They end up in his room and on his bed but all they do is hold each other while she cries.
A week before they’re due to leave for Worlds, Lindsay doesn’t show up at their late practice, so he skates with a sand bag. The sand bag has as much passion as his partner and complains less. He’s about to call it a night when Tessa skates over to him. There’s almost no one left in the arena and they have the ice to themselves.
“Where’s your partner?” she asks, surprising him yet again. They don’t actually talk much.
“I have no idea,” he doesn’t bother to make up a story like he would for everyone else.
“Did I ever tell you I used to ice dance?” she says playfully, rearranging his arms around her in a proper hold.
“Oh, really.” he pushes off and she stays in hold naturally.
“Singles was obviously more glamorous. And no pesky partner to deal with.” She gives him the smile that only he gets to see.
They skate around the rink first in hold, then side by side. She matches him stroke for stroke. They even try a twizzle, she’s off but no worse than Lindsay is lately.
“Have you ever done a lift?” he asks when they stop laughing at her twizzle.
“A long time ago,” she looks doubtful and interested all at the same time. It’s adorable.
“Wanna give it a try?”
“Why the hell not.”
He picks her up and shifts into a simple carry lift. They float all the way from one end of the ice to the other. She giggles the whole way when she realizes what he’s doing. When he puts her down, she nods and he tries a slightly more complicated position, the beginning of one he does with Lindsay. She holds her position perfectly until he sets her down gently on the ice. They stare at each other until the lights flash, letting them know their ice time is up.
“That was fun,” she admits with a shrug as they skate back to the boards.
“It was.” He grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Do you want to grab some dinner? Maybe hang out for a bit?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” She answers with a shake of her head, a grim set to her mouth. But her face softens in response to the hurt that flits across his. “Worlds are in a week.”
“Right.”
He watches her while she leaves the ice. Puts on his skate guards once she’s disappeared into the change room. It’s only then that he notices Marina watching them from the stands.
He doesn’t know how she does it, because she’s in so much pain, but Tessa manages to eke out a bronze at Worlds. He thinks she might be able to take over the world by sheer will alone of she wanted to.
He and Lindsay end up in sixth place. A decent showing, but not where they need to be with two years until the Olympics. They barely say three words to each other for the rest of the trip and when they get home she retires from competitive skating. She’s lonely, misses home and doesn’t want to give up her entire life for something she’s not sure she ever wanted. He tells her he understands but he’s lying.
Two days later, while he’s still trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do with the rest of his life, Tessa shows up at his door sobbing. He just folds his arms around her and brings her to his couch. She doesn’t talk for a long time, doesn’t seem to be able to.
“Please,” she says when she finally stops crying. “Please make me feel better.”
“T…”
“You’re the only one who can.”
“Do I get know why you're crying?”
“After.” She stops the talking by pressing her lips to his.
He can't order her around when she’s like this, but he can do his best to make her feel better. Maybe that can be his new job, making life better for Tessa Virtue. Is seriously considering the idea, when suddenly, he can’t think anymore, because her tongue is in his mouth and her hands are on his ass.
He picks up, and lets her wrap her legs around his waist, carries her to the bedroom and lays her down on the bed. Takes his time removing her clothes, stopping to wipe her tears away with his thumb or his lips. She watches him while he removes his clothes, like she’s worshiping at an altar, and he wonders if she might be the person who can forgive all his sins.
By some unspoken agreement, they take their time with each other. Slow caresses and soft lips. He thinks this might be the last time he ever gets to touch her and he wants to remember every moment, every sound.
When he moves down her body, to finally give her some relief, she stops him.
“Please,” she begs him when he looks up at her confused. “I want you. All of you.”
His brain short circuits. It’s all he wants. He's desperate for it really, but he knows she’ll own him completely after.
“Please,” she claws at his back, pulls him up so that they’re resting chest to chest. His cock is nestled between her thighs, so he can feel her heat and arousal. “Please. I need you.”
He can’t say no to her. Doesn’t know why he though he could. She must sense his decision, because she opens her legs and smiles. He eases into her, inch by inch. He’s never felt quite so overwhelmed. Once he’s bottomed out, he dares to look in her eyes. Sees everything that he feels reflected there.
After that he can’t go slow, and every time he thinks maybe he should, she urges him on with a heel to his ass or the scratch of her nails on his back. He lasts so much longer than he thought possible and when he knows he’s getting close, he finds her clit, determined to get her there first. It doesn’t take much much, just a few quick circles and she's coming, silently, her whole body locking up. He manages to hang on until she’s back with him, and finally lets himself fall, when she’s looking into his eyes.
They lay in the bed for a long time. He strokes her back and her hair and just as he thinks the might fall asleep, she starts crying again. When he pulls her tight to him, but she just cries harder.
“Tell me what’s happening?”
“I need surgery again.” she manages between the sobs. “That’s why I was gone last year. I had surgery on my legs but it didn’t work.”
“But it will this time.” He pulls her as tight to his chest as he can. He’d take all her pain if he could.
“Probably not. I’m probably never going to skate again.”
He holds her while she cries and then again when they’re in the shower.
“Fuck,” he says suddenly, while the water pours over them. He can’t tell if she’s still crying, hopes with all his heart that she isn’t. “We didn’t use a condom.”
She makes him reckless and stupid, and he can’t even regret it.
“I’ve never had sex without a condom before, and I’ve been on the pill since I was thirteen. Can’t have future Olympians getting their period at an inconvenient time.” She smirks. “At least if I can never skate again, I’ll get control over my body back.”
“There’s a silver lining to every cloud,” he tries and she laughs until she cries.
He wraps them in a towel and puts them to bed.
When he wakes up she’s gone. He's not even a little surprised.
He doesn’t hear from her in the ensuing weeks and months. Not that he expected to, but there’s no official retirement notice, so he still has hope.
Marina talks him into the tryouts for a new partner. His parents agree that it would be ridiculous to give up skating without even trying to find a replacement for Lindsay. There’s a long line of girls who want to skate with him, who’s fathers throw promises of money and cars at him if he does. But none of them feel right. None of them are going to help him win a gold medal. None of him bring out that passion in him.
“There’s one more,” Marina informs him. His latest tryout is the biggest disaster of them all. The girl could barely string together two related thoughts. Just giggled at him. Plus she’d been a mediocre at best skater. Her father had offered him twenty thousand dollars just to consider her. He said no on the spot.
“It’s hopeless.”
“Bah. It’s never hopeless. Well, that last one was hopeless.” she waves a hand at him. “But this one I think you will like.”
“Why?” He should just pack up his things and move home. Maybe he can become a fireman like his brother. He already knows how to carry people. That has to count for something.
“She’s not very experienced, but she’s a real dancer, beauty on the ice.” Marina wears a smile he’s never seen before, one that terrifies him just a little. “I think she’s the one who will help you find your passion again.”
“I doubt it.” There’s only one person who can do that.
“At least meet her. If you don’t like this one, we won’t look anymore. You can go home and waste all that talent.”
She waves her hand at him ash she walks away. Sometimes he thinks she might actually care about him under all that Russian bluster.
He gets out onto the ice. This girl at least deserves enough respect for him to skate with her. He’s just finished a turn around the ice, when he sees her.
“Tessa.” He almost falls over he stops so fast.
“I’m here for my tryout,” she says with a smile. There’s a softness to it that he's never seen before.
“The surgery?” he can’t believe she's there, standing in front of him.
“I’m not going to be able to skate singles again, the stress of jumps is too much, but ice dance…”
“So, we have a lot of work to do to get you ready for the Olympics” Marina says as she joins them on the ice. “First, we should discuss the importance of keeping a strictly business relationship with your skating partner..”
Neither of them are listening as he slips his hand in hers and they skate away.