Little gasps escaped Misha’s lips, and Dev pressed soothing openmouthed kisses to his spine. “Okay?”
“Porasitel’no,” he murmured.
Dev forced himself to stop moving. “What?”
“Amazing. It burns beautifully. Go on.” Misha bore down, sweat beading on his back as he worked to let Dev into his body.
His heat gripped Dev’s cock, and Dev breathed deeply to control himself, wondering when Misha had last had sex, considering how tight he was. At the thought of Misha on his hands and knees for someone else, jealously flared. With one hand on Misha’s shoulder, Dev thrust his hips. Misha’s ass stretched tight as he filled him, and he pulled out a few inches to admire the view of his dick in Misha’s sweet, pale ass before he slammed in deeper. Misha urged him on with soft cries and pleas to fuck him harder, harder, harder. For someone so quiet in the dressing room over the years, Misha was vocal in bed, alternating Russian and English as he moaned.
“Da. Yes, yes—like that. Eshe.”
Lips parted, Dev worked Misha’s ass. Their flesh slapped together, loud with their pants and groans in the small room. Misha was down on his chest now, head to the side and hands clutching the sheets. Dev thought of him on the top of the podium, imperious and untouchable. Now Misha was bent over for Dev, needing his cock.
Dev held him down by the back of his neck as he leaned over and angled in deeper, his hips snapping as he pounded Misha harder.
“Pozhaluysta. Pozhaluysta,” Misha begged. Please.
Balls tightening, Dev slowed for a few moments, schooling himself as Misha whimpered. Dev wasn’t going to be the one to break first. This is one competition I’ll win. Thrusting again, he grunted as he pulled Misha’s hair, lifting him up from the mattress onto his elbows. He slapped Misha’s ass. Once, twice—
Misha reached down and stroked his cock with a desperate cry, his eyes closed and sweat dampening the back of his hair. He shuddered as he came, his tight ass clamping around Dev, as he growled something hoarsely in Russian. Dev’s hips stuttered in short little thrusts as he let go, his orgasm ripping through his body like a tornado. He swore he actually saw stars as the white-hot bliss seared him.
Gasping for air, he collapsed on top of Misha in a heap of sweaty limbs. He never thought he’d see Misha so undone, and he reveled in it—in the fact that Misha had surrendered to him so beautifully. They were both flushed and sweaty and Dev felt the way he did after a perfect run-through. Victorious.
Finally he forced himself to move to get rid of the condom in the bathroom. By the light of the moon, he tossed it in the trash and hesitated as he stared at himself in the mirror.
I should get out of here. Wham, bam—it’s been fun. Catch you later. Do svidaniya. They’d had their fun, and he should sneak back to his own room. Get a good night’s sleep. Focus on his job. The opening ceremony was in three days, and tomorrow they’d start official practices with everyone watching. He should distance himself from Misha now. After all, he’d had him. What more did he want?
But as he watched his reflection, the thought of leaving filled him with shame. He wet a washcloth, hesitating by the bathroom door, suddenly uncertain. Perhaps Misha didn’t even want him to stay and he was presuming too much. But Misha had rolled onto his back, and he waited with a small smile and beckoning hand. Dev cleaned him off and tossed the cloth back into the bathroom.
There was hardly room for one of them on the single bed, so Dev could only sprawl over Misha’s body. Their legs entwined, he rested his head on Misha’s chest, the hair there tickling his cheek in a way that made him smile. He closed his eyes as Misha played idly with Dev’s short curls.
“You know, if you’d asked me before all this, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a bottom. I wouldn’t even have pegged you as gay,” Dev said. He felt utterly relaxed and loose-tongued, even though he should go back to his room and never look back.
Misha’s chest moved as he chuckled. “Oh yes, I love being fucked.”
“Works out well, since I love doing the fucking.”
“Have you tried the other way?”
“A few times. There’s just something about plowing into a tight ass.”
“And I feel there is something about being…what did you say? Plowed. Perhaps it is because so much in my life is…hidden. Controlled. To give myself over and let go—I find no shame in it. Only pleasure.” He rubbed his foot over Dev’s calf. “Especially with you. You are excellent at fucking.”
Dev smiled and caressed Misha’s stomach, his fingers ghosting over Misha’s soft cock. “The feeling’s mutual.” Not that they should be having any feelings whatsoever. Dev pushed the thought away.
“Where will you live? Once this is all over. You are retiring, yes?”
“Yes. I’m not sure where I’ll settle down. After the show tours, I’ll pack up my apartment in Colorado Springs. I’ll go home to Boston for a visit. My family wants me to come back for good, of course.”
“Boston is a good place.”
“It is. I’m just…I don’t know. I’m not sure. I have to figure out what I want my life to look like once I’m not competing. It’s hard to imagine.”
Misha sighed. “I imagine every day. I will return to America. Perhaps California this time. I would like to live by the beach. I will have a dog and walk for miles with my toes in the sand.”
“If you love America, why did you go back to Russia after the last Olympics?”
His fingers stilled in Dev’s hair. “I was given no choice. We failed to win gold and return honor to our country. Our bronze medal was nothing. Twice now, non-Russian pair has won gold. It is matter of great embarrassment. They brought us home to monitor training. Make sure we work harder and win this time.”
Dev shifted and propped his head on his hand. “But how could they do that? It sounds like the Soviet era all over again.”
“Yes. It gets worse and worse. They…” Eyebrows drawn, Misha stared at the ceiling.
“What?” Dev caressed Misha’s chest while a little voice in his head screamed. It was bad enough they were fucking—now they were talking? It should have been utterly surreal to lie in bed with Mikhail Reznikov, the ice king, but it felt strangely natural. Strangely right. He silenced the voice. “You can tell me.”
Misha’s gaze, still distant, became wistful. “I had a boyfriend in Connecticut. An accountant. David. We met in a bar one night. It was wonderful to go out in America, where no one knew me. He barely understood what figure skating was. In Russia, it is different.”
“So what happened?”
“They found out. Had many pictures.”
“How? They followed you?”
“Of course.” He shrugged.
“Who? Like, the KGB?”
Misha smiled slightly. “Now it is FSB. Federal’naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti. Federal Security Service. But yes, even with a new name they are same old KGB. The SVR spy for them overseas.”
“The what?”
“Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki.” Misha paused. “It would translate as foreign intelligence. They all do what they want with no laws to stop them. We are powerless.”
“But…that’s insane! Russia’s still a democracy.”
Misha snorted and met Dev’s gaze. “That is big joke. They say democracy to the world but at home control everything. Everyone.”
“What happened? They blackmailed you?”
“You know of the antigay laws, yes?”
“Of course. The total human rights violations? Scary shit.”
“It would have been very bad for my family, if people knew about me. They told us we were to come back to Moscow. ‘Russians should be in Russia,’ they said.”
“Jesus. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine. I mean, Bailey and I complain about the Feds being too controlling, but they’re just an occasional inconvenience.”
Misha’s brow furrowed. “Feds? I thought…FBI are Feds? They are controlling you?”
“No, no. It’s our nickname for our
skating federation. They can be nosy as hell sometimes, and we had to kiss a lot of ass before we started winning, but it’s nothing, really. I can’t believe Russia’s doing that to you. You must hate them.”
“Government, yes. Leader who is dictator, yes. But my country I still love. Always. Government is destroying many good things. Beautiful things about my country are going away now. My father says it’s like communism without…” He seemed to be searching for the right word. “Without ideals. Not for the greater good this time. For the good of those in power. Not the people.”
“Was Kisa pissed about going back?”
“She told them we wouldn’t go. She knew what David meant to me.” He stared at the ceiling again. “Kisa is from the east. With our prize money, she was able to buy her family a new house. Her skating changed everything for them. When her mother became sick the year before, officials made sure she was able to see the specialist in Novosibirsk. That night, after Kisa refused to go, she came to my apartment very late. She wept, and I knew what they had done.”
Dev’s stomach twisted. “If you guys didn’t go back, no more specialist for her mother.” God. No matter how much the federation might get on his nerves sometimes, it would never be like that. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kisa cry once.”
Misha’s lips quirked into a smile. “Everyone thinks she is quite a bitch.”
“Well…” Dev couldn’t deny it.
Misha winked at him. “She is very tough. This is true. But she’s really very shy. She is devoted to her family—she only agreed to train in Connecticut because Vasily was there. He is a wonderful coach. For many years he has been there now, and they could not make him return. He said he’s an old man with no family left to threaten him with.” Misha smiled again. “I miss him. Irina is an excellent coach, and we are very fortunate to have her, but with Vasily…” He paused. “We share the same humor.”
“So, what’s it been like the last four years in Moscow? Have they been spying on you?”
“I’m sure. But without boyfriends, there was nothing to distract me from skating. I put everything into training.”
“What about David? Do you talk to him?”
Misha smiled sadly. “It was best for him to move on. I see online that he is married now. I cannot imagine such freedom—men marrying men and women marrying women. It is a glorious thing, to be so free. I hope for such acceptance one day.”
Although it hadn’t been that many years since marriage equality had been passed in some of the states, Dev was acutely aware that he already took it for granted. “Okay, no boyfriends in Moscow, but what about when you traveled for competitions? Surely they didn’t follow you all the time.”
“The problem with FSB is that you never know when they are watching. Better to assume it is always.”
“Well, if they’re watching right now, I hope they enjoyed the show.”
Misha laughed. “I think we are safe here. Even so, it’s too late now. Competition is next week. What can they do?”
A horrifying thought entered Dev’s mind. “Wait—if they’ve been watching you…have you been celibate the past four years?”
Misha nodded. “Until Kyoto. I kept my secret self locked away, but you found the key.” He brushed his thumb across Dev’s bottom lip. “Sometimes I wondered what it would be like with you, but I never thought…”
“You wondered about me?” It was flattering, and Dev’s stomach flip-flopped foolishly. Get it together.
“Of course. You are beautiful.” Misha traced Dev’s cheekbone with his fingertips.
He flushed. “Thank you. You know you’re gorgeous, right?”
Misha shrugged. “Yes, but you have such love on the ice. Love for skating. It shines from you. I watch you and wish I could feel such joy. I confess it also made me angry sometimes.”
Dev frowned. “But you love skating too.”
“Once, yes. Very much.” He sighed. “Then we moved back to Russia and everything changed. It does not lift my heart to skate any longer. You live and breathe it because you love it. For me it is a burden around my neck. A heavy thing. If we do not win…” He shook his head. “Russia becomes more and more like in the old days. I do not know what will happen if we shame the motherland like this. I pray I will not find out.”
The instinct in Dev to insist that he and Bailey would win warred with his sympathy for the pressure Misha and Kisa were under. If he and Bailey lost, it would be a disappointment to their country, but one soon enough forgotten, especially considering how skating struggled to retain viewers in non-Olympic years. “What happens to your families now if you come back to the States after the Games?”
“Kisa will return to Russia. There is a boy from her town she will marry. Alexei. A man now, but he has waited.”
Kisa Kostina with a secret childhood sweetheart? Dev had honestly never thought about her as anything but an impeccably French-manicured, bedazzled dragon lady. “What about your family? Do they know?” Dev swept his arm over their entwined bodies. “About you?”
“Yes. I thought I hid it well, but my father says he knew long ago.”
“You definitely hide it well. I didn’t have a clue.”
Misha tapped Dev’s nose. “I knew about you. There was just something.”
“I may not be officially out, but it’s not exactly a state secret.”
“And your family?”
“At first it was…an adjustment. I told my parents after high school. They didn’t know what to be more shocked and disappointed about—that I was gay, or that I wasn’t going to university. But they accepted it pretty quickly. My mom’s tried to fix me up with pretty much every Indian lawyer and doctor in America at this point.”
“You did not want this?”
Dev shrugged. “I’ve never really had time for anything serious. Most guys can’t understand the dedication it takes to be a champion. And it’s just been easier to keep it on the backburner. In skating I played straight the first few years, but then I just didn’t say anything one way or the other. The Feds would have flipped if I admitted it, but at least they didn’t start stalking me. Will anything happen to your family if you don’t go back?”
Misha sighed. “My parents say they are too old to leave their home. They insist that I go to America, and that they will be fine.” He blew out a long breath. “I do not know what will become of it, but I cannot stay in Russia. At least they have not closed the borders. I will have done my duty and they’ll have someone else to worry about. When we win this gold, I will be free.”
Dev clenched his jaw. Misha said it like it was a given, and Dev wanted that gold just as much. Granted, his freedom wasn’t on the line, and he couldn’t imagine the unfair strain on Misha. But what the hell was he doing in bed with the man who stood between him and his dream? What the hell was he doing feeling bad for Misha?
Maybe this is all part of the game.
He pulled away. “I should go. Your roommate might come back and—”
“No, no.” Misha cupped Dev’s face. “Let us not talk of medals or winning. We will do our best, and the judges will decide. Forget about competition when we are together.”
Shaking his head, Dev untangled himself and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. “How can we forget about competition? This is crazy.” He glanced over his shoulder at Misha, splayed out and utterly debauched. So beautiful. He fought the urge to touch him again. “We’ve both lost our minds. You realize this, don’t you? This won’t be like Salt Lake City. Only one of us can win. We shouldn’t even be talking to each other, let alone…”
Misha skimmed his fingers over Dev’s back. “Perhaps crazy. But I want your cock in me again and again. I dream of it since Kyoto.” He sat up and moved behind Dev, wrapping his arms around him as he whispered in his ear. “I dream of you filling me up until it overflows and drips out of me. Then I take you in my mouth and make you come again, and I swallow it all. Every night I am spread open for you and—”
&nbs
p; Groaning, Dev turned his head to take Misha’s mouth in a kiss. Cock twitching, all other thoughts vanished from his mind as he pressed Misha back to the mattress. He tasted Misha’s skin, traveling down his body with openmouthed kisses, licking his nipples and teasing the sensitive flesh. Misha sighed, arching up and holding tight to Dev’s hair. Lower, Dev kissed the wings of the small eagle taking flight over Misha’s hipbone. Misha spread his long legs wantonly, and God, he was breathtaking, offering himself up so freely.
Dev licked up and down Misha’s cock and nuzzled his balls, but it was Misha’s ass he wanted again. He pushed Misha’s knees up farther and spread his cheeks before diving in. He buried his face in Misha’s ass, licking at his hole and opening him up. He spit and pushed his tongue inside, and Misha cried out, his limbs twitching.
Reveling in the musky taste, Dev lost time fucking Misha with his tongue. When he glanced up, Misha was breathing with his mouth open, his skin flushed and head thrown back, revealing the length of his neck and the angle of his chin. Dev reached up and slipped two fingers into Misha’s mouth. Misha sucked them eagerly, little moans escaping. With his fingers wet, Dev squeezed them into Misha’s ass.
With tongue and fingers, he fucked Misha until Misha was panting, his leaking cock straining against his stomach.
“Pozhaluysta,” he moaned.
Dev reached blindly for the condoms. He didn’t bother with more lube, letting his saliva slick the way as he thrust inside Misha’s ass. Gasping, Misha drew his legs up even farther, and his ankles were almost behind his head as Dev pounded into him.
“So tight. Fuck, you’re so hot. So good,” Dev muttered.
Misha squeezed around him, and his fingers dug into Dev’s hips, urging him on harder and faster. He reached one hand into Dev’s hair and yanked him down for a kiss, their tongues meeting as they moaned into each other’s mouths.
Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance Page 5
