Chapter Text
Frost is biting Crowley's cheeks and fingers as he skates across the outdoor ice rink just outside of Moscow. Russia can be so unforgiving in winter, but he cannot stop training because of something so minor as negative temperature, double digits or not.
It's early in the morning and the sun is barely peeking from between the twisted branches of trees bending over the frozen lake. Ghosts bearing witness to Crowley's murderous endavours, setting long shadows across the horizon.
It would be too dark to skate if not for Lukyan—Crowley's coach—setting up construction lights on the trees around the rink. This way Crowley can start practice early and stay until late, almost entirely undisturbed by anyone.
He doesn’t even feel the cold that much anymore. And it's not so bad now he’s much older, doesn't get wet and frozen from multiple falls on the ice after every other messed up jump. He has come so far since then, made his way up through the competitions and to the very top, and he's only seventeen years old.
The thrill of the upcoming competition is warming him up from the inside, the thought that soon enough he's going to be skating in Pyeongchang, South Korea on his very first Winter Olympics. Even just thinking about it makes him giddy with excitement.
The Winter Olympics.
Everything Crowley worked so hard for is finally within his reach, he just has to work a little harder, grit his teeth for a little while longer and give his absolute best on the last stretch. It's not going to be easy, but he’s not alone. With his coach Lukyan by his side, he feels like he can reach the stars and conquer the world.
Maybe one day he will, Crowley thinks smiling to himself. They truly are one of a kind couple, which Lukyan himself often says himself. It only made sense that within the last year they had become lovers.
So what if Crowley is only seventeen and Lukyan is almost twice his age. He'll be legally an adult soon and after that why should anyone care who he is fucking? Definitely not his mother. Even before Crowley's father died she was too busy to ever be a part of his life, she barely kept up with his career, but this at least she did care about. Wanted for Crowley to be coached by someone important, someone big. Lukyan didn't train groups, didn't run classes. He picked the best of the best and focused on their careers exclusively.
Crowley remembers precisely the day he got accepted, taken under Lukyan's wings. His mother was so ecstatic she called all of her friends to tell them about her success, her hard work, and sacrifices she had to make in order for this to happen. As for Crowley, well, he’s only done what was required of him. It hardly deserved any praise. He remembers meeting Luk for the first time too—confident, tall, with long dark hair tied at the back. Funny and charming, and so eager to become Crowley's coach.
They had been inseparable ever since.
It might have been the happiest day of Crowley's life, now that he thinks back to it, the turning point that tilted his whole world on its axis. He's not only perfected his skating style, learned to land quadruple jumps and execute the more difficult spins, but he felt happy working on it all. As the cold wind rushes through his long hair, tightly pinned in place and he glides over the ice surface, he can see Lukyan observing his every move intently and he feels like a star. With Lukyan by his side, there is nothing that Crowley can't achieve.
Crowley always wanted to be an ice princess, ever since he was little. Yes, princess , not a prince. He wanted to be all pretty and admired and loved. He wanted to meet someone who would keep him and take care of him. Skating has given him that chance with its colourful outfits and audience that applauds him, but what's more it has given him Lukyan.
As the music in Crowley's earphones changes and he is approaching the insanely difficult quadruple lutz he clears his thoughts and tries to focus. It's all a muscle memory after all, borne out of repetition, repetition and once more repetition. Because Crowley practices until he feels like he can practice no more, and then he practices those jumps again. This is how knows he can do this, that he can land it perfectly if he only focuses.
He turns around and swings his left leg in a backward take off. So far so good, but jumping off the ice is really not that difficult, unless you mess up any of the fundamental rules, it's the landing that's tricky. Crowley swings in the air four times with the hand pulled to himself and then gracefully drops on one skate. It's perfect.
Lukyan created a truly murderous routine for Crowley's both programs but especially the lasting four minutes free skating one with as many as five quadruple jumps. To maximise Crowley's points he added even more difficult elements like having his arms above his head in some jumps and a combination jump in the later part of the routine for the extra points. At the end of the day everything came down to points.
As impossible to overcome as it may seem, Crowley knows he can do this. Lukyan said so and therefore it must be true. His coach is a multiple gold medalist himself, won his first Grand Prix at the age of only sixteen (Crowley managed it only earlier this year). Frequently overtook his rivals by twenty points in a sport where the very decimal points matter. His jumps were flawless and his style captivating. He was the only figure skater to date to land five quadruple jumps in a single competition.
The only one up until now, because Crowley is training to match that, and one day, perhaps even surpass it. Not without a reason he was chosen to represent Russia in the Olympics.
Once Crowley lands the jump he allows himself to look at Lukyan, sees his lips curling in a smile even from a distance and it makes Crowley's chest feel full. Fueled by the approval he skates towards another jump, quadruple toe loop, which he lands perfectly. The last jump in this routine is a triple axel, Crowley's biggest nemesis ever since he started skating. It has this stupidly difficult forward approach and back landing as opposed to all of the remaining jumps.
Crowley lifs of the ice gracefully, there is a moment where he wobbles in the air, but corrects it in the split second he's there, lands on a single skate and doesn’t fall, but balances on the edge a little before continuing on. At the Olympics that might have cost him the medal. But it's okay, he still has time to perfect it.
He's going to get that gold.
Once the music in Crowley's earphone ends and he stands in the final pose, he allows himself to breathe and look at Lukyan again. His smile could have been brighter, but there is a smile on his face and that means everything. Exhausted, but satisfied he skates back towards his coach who passes him a nutrition shake.
"Not bad, you should be able to snatch that gold if you can perfect those last two jumps." Luk tells him as Crowley slurps his breakfast through the straw. His coach is also in charge of his eating plan, his daily schedule, his exercise routines. His whole life. "Perhaps we should do more running, make sure you've got the stamina to land those jumps later in the program."
Crowley whines. He hates running or any of the exercises off the rink really. There is no glory in them, no praise to be awarded. Most of the time Luk indulges him and doesn't push for them unless strictly necessary
"Oi, you cheeky thing. Be a good boy and stop whining." Luk's words are harsh, but his tone is playful.
He pats Crowley lightly on the cheek and Crowley takes that opportunity to sneak himself into the man's open coat, plasters himself to his warm body and nuzzles into the crook of Luk's neck.
"Whatever you say, handsome."
Luk chuckles, putting one hand the small of Crowley's back and pulling him even closer. "I suppose you deserved this for managing such a difficult routine. No mistakes next time, alright?"
"Mhm," Crowley confirms, feeling the warmth of Luk's praise spreading all across his chest.
Crowley looks up, hopeful, at those dark eyes which have already seen the splendour of competition and admiration, the glory of being the best. Luk kisses Crowley slowly and passionately with a promise of a reward and Crowley knows that Luk's rewards can be very satisfying.
"Once we get to the Olympic village we won't be able to be a couple this openly," Luk says once they part. Squeezing Crowley's buttocks before letting him go. "But don't worry, I got us a common room," Luk winks and Crowley already feels heat filling his body.
Keeping their relationship secret has always been a difficult part of it all, but Crowley knew people wouldn't understand. He was less sure why they were so against it to begin with. It's not like Crowley didn't consent and surely he was the only one to decide here, right? Especially once he finally legally becomes an adult next year.
"I've got something for you," Lukyan says, rummaging through the pockets of his coat and fishing out a small box. "Here," he opens the box to present to Crowley the most beautiful, sparkling earrings Crowley has ever seen. They are shaped like little stars, light bouncing off every white stone and silver surface. Crowley is so shocked he doesn't know what to say.
"Do you like them? I saw them and I thought of you. I thought they would match your skating outfit very well."
"Luk! This is… are you sure?" Crowley put them on his hand, they are heavier than they look.
Lukyan only smiles and helps Crowley clasp them on his ears. "Anything for my rising star," he whispers, making Crowley's skin prickle. His heart is melting and for a brief second he feels pleasantly limbless.
"Thank you," he says and kisses Luk then. He can’t help it, happiness is filling him to the brim. Out of all the possible coaches he could end up under, he got the best, the most caring and handsome one.
Life couldn't have been any better.
Crowley has never been to South Korea before. Everything here seems strange and magical— the language, the culture, the cuisine. It's almost a shame that for the most part he's going to stay within the border of the Olympic Village, training.
He's not going to see his mother for at least three upcoming weeks, but he doesn't think she will even notice the difference.
As soon as they enter the Olympic Village and head towards their accommodation, everyone stops to at least exchange a few words with Lukyan, others nod or wave to him. He might have a tough reputation, but he is also well respected and seems to know everyone. Crowley couldn't be more proud to be his student.
They don't hold hands, even though Crowley wants nothing more than to tell the whole world that they are together. Wants to scream: look! I am the happiest man alive! Instead, he rubs his starshine earrings as a consolation. It's okay. Deep down in his heart he knows the truth that Luk loves him deeply and will never let anything happen to him. It's all that matters.
He collapses on the nearest bed as soon as they enter their bland, impersonal room with two beds next to each other. They will probably push them together later on.
Crowley is used to this of course, the liminal space that's neither a part of this or outside world. A placeholder for his life, but this is the life he chose.
"Rest, baby. You must be exhausted." Luk says as soon as Crowley cocoons himself with the nearest blanket.
"Stay with me?"
"Ah, I wish I could! But I ran into some old friends on the way and it would be rude to leave them hanging. You're free to come with us if you want?"
"Nah," Crowley waves his hand in the air, taking his pyjamas out of the suitcase. "You go, I'll have a nap." Luk kisses his head and then he’s gone.
Crowley drifts in and out of sleep for the rest of the evening. He rarely sleeps well in new places, not to mention the jet lag. Having Luk with him helps immensely, but he rarely wants to go to bed as early as Crowley needs it.
He finally takes out his phone to see what everyone is doing, swiping through the photos on Instagram. Of course everyone's out already—mingling or catching up with their old friends. All the WhatsApp groups Crowley's in also seem to be buzzing and he's sure he's only in a fraction of them. There are a lot of people who don't take it well that Crowley is such a suck up to his coach.
They can fuck themselves.
Crowley doesn’t need anyone, except Luk, and his own skates. He is doing just fine in life without people.
After torturing himself with a sufficient amount of Instagram photos, he tosses his phone away and turns to the other side with a firm resolution that this time he will fall asleep, when suddenly the doors swing open with a creak.
"Already asleep, darling?" Lukyan slurs a little, making Crowley raise up on his elbows to gauge if his coach will need any help. It's not like he never saw Luk drunk or under the influence. They take care of each other, this is how it works.
"Almost," Crowley responds truthfully.
Lukyan closes the distance between them in two quick steps.
"Waiting for me? Do you want me to make you feel good, hmm?" Luk drawls, hand sliding over Crowley's thigh suggestively as he whispers. "It might be the last time before your performance. You know the rules, no sex before big competitions."
He reeks of alcohol and Crowley doesn't particularly want him like this right now, but he somehow finds it hard to refuse. Whether it's the proximity of their bodies, Luk's arousal or Crowley's desperation for connection, he doesn’t know. But he makes his decision quickly and relaxes, trying to get himself into the mood and his body into submission. He has practice, ice skating is all about bending your body into impossible shapes and ignoring the pain.
"Of course," he says in the most seductive voice he can muster. "Always."
The smile Lukyan gives him even through the haze of the alcohol is blinding and Crowley wants to bask in its glow forever. "Good boy," he whispers into Crowley's ear, making him shiver.
Crowley lets out a shocked gasp, when Luk starts palming his cock through the pyjama bottoms. It quickly hardens under his touch.
"That's it, baby, let go. I'll take care of everything."
He does. He always does. And it makes sense in Crowley's mind to let Luk lead in their sex life, he has infinitely more experience than Crowley after all.
The pyjama bottoms are quickly discarded and before Crowley knows it, he's eased onto his back and Luk has his lips on Crowley's cock, his fingers already nudging his entrance. He tries not to cry out and only allows himself to moan quietly, while biting his palm (walls have ears after all). He feels his cock throbbing in Luk's mouth, the impatient slide of his tongue and the rushed push of his fingers inside of him. It's too much too fast and Crowley finds himself trying to adjust to the sensations. It's not long before Luk decides Crowley is stretched enough and lines his cock with Crowley's entrance.
There's a bit of a sharp pain and burning, but Luk does finally slide past the tight entrance and inside of him. Crowley is opening his legs as far as they go, adjusting the angle as much as he can to ease the unpleasant sensations. Above him Luk purrs in approval.
That's all that matters.
"You're so tight, darling, so good. So perfect. "
Crowley moans. He could come from the praises alone. He thinks about their first time back at Lukyan's posh flat, so very different from his messy family house. Clean, clutter free, tidy and minimalistic. Crowley promised himself he would own a similar one of these days.
He was staying over that night so they could start training early the next morning. It wasn't anything new. Lukyan organised Crowley's whole life—from his diet, with all the necessary vitamins, through his training and skating lessons up to his sleeping schedule. Everything was carefully planned to the dot. Discipline and exercise were key in this sport.
They chatted a little before Crowley went to sleep in the guest bedroom. He remembers he went back into the kitchen to get a glass of water, dressed only in his pyjama shorts. He almost dropped it when Lukyan walked through the living space, tossing his black shirt to the ground. He was stunning, absolutely brilliant and half-naked he looked like a Greek god—his muscles flexed with every move and his long black hair fell down his shoulder blades. He was the most perfect thing Crowley has even seen.
His coach stopped mid-step as he finally noticed Crowley who in his state of complete awe he didn't even think to cover his very obvious now boner that was tightly hugged by the fabric of his shorts. And Lukyan saw, of course he did, but instead of berating him like Crowley was sure he would, he drew closer. Perched himself next to Crowley on the kitchen countertop.
"Like what you see?" He asked, his smile was one he would give Crowley after he landed a particularly difficult jump. It encouraged him, made him feel safe and special. Luk was asking him questions, he was interested in what Crowley was thinking.
He nodded, flushing bright red. The truth was that he thought a lot about Luk, probably more than it was healthy. He thought about Luk late at night before falling asleep and in the morning shower. Fantasised about Luk wanting him. Which was a ridiculous thought (Crowley just turned sixteenth a few weeks back and was having all sorts of ridiculous thoughts), but it didn't seem so ridiculous then.
"Have you done this before? Have you touched yourself thinking of me?" Luk droned into Crowley's ear.
"Yes," Crowley whispered, embarrassed.
"No need to be ashamed of it, you can tell me anything. There are no secrets between us, are there, darling ?"
Crowley remembers how deeply the new endearment clung into his heart, filled his chest with warmth that was burning him from the inside.
"Shall we do something about it?" Luk asked, toying with the waistband of his shorts, but didn't dare to cross the line until Crowley muttered his agreement.
He was aching already and leaking precome into the fabric of his shorts and when Luk finally took him in his spidery hand, Crowley whimpered and clung to the man in front of him. Luk pumped him in slow, but sure rhythm, smearing the precome with his thumb for better traction. It was clear Luk had a lot more experience and knew exactly what to do, how to twist his wrist exactly to draw the maximum pleasure out of Crowley and in that moment Crowley knew he would never want to be touched by another person ever again.
"That's it baby, let go."
Lukyan kissed him and Crowley came in thick pulses over Luk's hand, over his own chest and Luk's muscular torso. He shivered in Luk's embrace for a moment longer and then his stomach sank as he saw the mess he left on Luk's skin, more than sure that Luk's going to be livid. But he wasn't. He brushed the hair off Crowley's sweat riddled forehead and kissed his head, thumb sliding over Crowley's lower lip.
"My beautiful princess , you've done very well," he whispered. "I think we earned ourselves a shower here, don't you think?"
There Luk instructed him how to give head and oh , Crowley was so eager to please. He has been ever since.
Tonight is no exception.
He thinks about it all as he's lying on his back with Luk's cock moving within him in the darkness of the unfamiliar room. Until finally he speeds up, his groans become more prominent, his movements erratic as he holds Crowley firmly by the hips. Crowley’s head starts swimming with the intensity of it, with how much that sweet spot within him is being rubbed and teased. It's all good now and he lets out a moan of his own, holding onto the sheets around him.
"Not yet, baby." Luk reminds him. He likes to come first, keep Crowley on the precipice for a while longer. Crowley likes the game of drawing it out for as long as he can manage, while Luk is focusing only on him. Sometimes even calming him down and urging to relax as either the vibrator or Luk's cock are relentlessly pulsating inside of him.
Today is not like that.
Luk finishes in a few quick moves that shake Crowley's body frantically.
"Can I… come?" Crowley stutters.
"Of course you can, baby. You've earned it."
Crowley strokes himself then furiously, still feeling Luk's thick cock in his arse. Still pulsing inside of him. Distantly he thinks this is how love feels like.
He comes all over his stomach with Luk's name on his lips. Only then the man pulls out, staggering to collapse on his own bed.
"Good boy," he says once more before falling asleep and leaving Crowley to clean up all the mess.
He knows he won't fall asleep for a long time to come.