Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance

by Keira Andrews

  Dev sighed, thoughts of Misha swirling in his mind accompanied by a dull ache that his tenth-grade English teacher would have called yearning. “I know. You’re right.”

  “Well duh. That goes without saying. Come on. The clock is ticking for Worlds, and we have one more chance to stand on the top of that podium. We got this.”

  “You can do it!” Andrew seemed wide awake now, and he sprang from bed. “You’re going to win in Boston, and I’m going to kick ass. I blew my quad toe and my Axel in the long yesterday, but I’m going to nail them at Worlds. I may not be near the podium yet, but I’m going to do the US proud. Come on, let’s all go for a run.” He dashed to the bathroom and paused by the door. “And hey, Bailey, I scored tickets for slopestyle this afternoon. You want to come?”

  “I have no idea what that is, but hell yeah. It sounds awesome.” She smiled. “Thanks, Andrew.”

  He flushed. “It’s this new skiing thing. Sounds really cool, and…yeah. Okay. Cool. It’s a date.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

  Bailey’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what just happened?”

  Dev grinned. “I believe you have a social engagement with young Mr. Quinn.”

  “I guess I do.” She shrugged. “What the hell. Speaking of social engagements, we’re staying in a veritable hotbed of sexy men, and it’s high time we did something about that.” She perched on the side of Dev’s bed and smiled sadly. “Because I think you’re wallowing over more than just the silver.”

  He couldn’t deny it. “I wish I could just put him out of my head.”

  “Have you talked to him?” she asked quietly.

  “You want me to talk to him?”

  “Look, he’s historically not been my favorite person, but in all the years I’ve known you I’ve never seen a guy get under your skin like this. He’s obviously not all bad. He’s actually probably pretty wonderful if you like him. And for the record he’d better be wonderful, because if he hurts you, I’ll make those Russian spies look like the Golden Girls.”

  “Been watching reruns, huh?”

  “Blanche Devereaux is my spirit guide even when she’s dubbed in French.” Bailey squeezed Dev’s leg. “Kisa and Misha are gliding into the sunset. They already said at last year’s Worlds that it would be their last. What’s done is done. I’m not going to hold a grudge.”

  “You’re being awfully zen.”

  “Do you enjoy it? I thought it was worth a shot. So far, so good. But seriously, they’re not our competition anymore. He’s free game. But please don’t start fucking Roger Jackman, because we don’t need Worlds to be a dramarama too.”

  He thumped her with a pillow. “As if I’d hook up with Roger. For starters there’s no way he’s gay. And I think his wife might object.”

  She giggled and hit him back. “Hey, I never thought Robot Reznikov was gay either.”

  “He’s not a robot.”

  Bailey smirked. “It’s kind of cute when you defend him.”

  Dev thought of what Misha had said about Bailey and guilt soured his stomach. He shouldn’t miss someone who would think that about his best friend. But the hollow in his chest still ached. He sighed. “I’m a fool, Bailey. From the start he said I was just his ‘little rebellion.’ But I went and fell for him anyway. God, I’m moping around and he probably hasn’t given me another thought. He won the gold and he’s moving to California, and he doesn’t need to rebel anymore. He doesn’t need me.”

  “Then he’s a moron and he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Dev fought the urge to defend Misha again. “You know what? Forget him. You’re right. Let’s go for a run. Put the past in the past and look toward the future.”

  Bailey shot to her feet with her arm raised and index finger pointed. “Onward and upward. Faster, higher, stronger. Now put on some pants and get your fine ass out of bed.”

  The commanding knock echoed through the small room, and Dev slung his towel around his hips, hurrying from the steamy bathroom. “Since when do you knock?” he called. “Andrew went to your room to pick you up.” But when he opened the door, it wasn’t Bailey standing there.

  Head held as regally as ever, Misha stood there, his back ramrod straight. He opened his mouth but then closed it again.

  Dev swallowed hard. “Oh. Um, hey. I…” He stepped back. “Come in.”

  With a small nod, Misha swept by him and stood by the guest chairs. He wore dark jeans and a form-fitting black sweater that showed off his lean muscles and narrow hips. His hair swept over his forehead, and there was a few days’ worth of stubble on his face. He was beautiful, as always.

  The longing was like the throbbing in Dev’s muscles after a long program. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” He waved his hand. “I mean, obviously I’ll see you at the gala performance next week. But I didn’t think I’d see you…like this.”

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted to. I thought not.”

  “But here you are.” Dev’s pulse thrummed.

  “If I’m not welcome, I will leave.” Misha took a step toward the door.

  “No, no. Stay.” The silence stretched out between them, and Dev cast about for something to say. “How’s Kisa?”

  Misha’s lips quirked into a little smile. “Uncomfortable. She is pained whether sitting or lying, and standing is no better. But she rests and has much chocolate and vodka and what’s the word? Romance novels that are…ah! Trashy.”

  Dev laughed. “That’s good. She deserves a break. Man, she gritted it out. I admire her.” He realized as he said it that it wasn’t simply lip service. “She’s going to be able to skate in the gala?”

  “Nothing could stop her,” Misha replied fondly.

  “I really do admire her. Both of you. It was an amazing skate. One for the history books.”

  “Spasibo. You also skated beautifully. You and Bailey.” Misha frowned and stood up straighter, clasping his hands behind his back. “I must make an apology. I should not have said those things about Bailey. I knew when I spoke it was untrue. She is an honorable competitor. An honorable woman. Please forgive me.”

  Warmth bloomed in Dev’s chest. “It’s okay. You were stressed. We both were.”

  “It was not okay. You are also an honorable man, and I should not have said otherwise. In that moment, after Vladimir from the federation nearly discovered us…I was very afraid. I acted as if you were the one to blame for my recklessness. As if you were the one to blame for Kisa’s injury. It was very unfair. I am ashamed.”

  Dev wanted to reach for him but crossed his arms awkwardly over his chest instead. Maybe he’s only here to apologize. Maybe that’s all he wants. The few feet between them felt like the Grand Canyon. “Apology accepted. I shouldn’t have said what I did either.”

  Misha stared intently. “Do you still wish those things? That we had never met? That we had never…”

  Dev didn’t have to think about his answer. “No. Not even a little bit.” He took a deep breath as his heart thumped faster. “Because this thing with you, it’s been…” He motioned with his hands, trying to find the words. “Different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Better than anything I’ve ever felt. What about you? Does it feel different?”

  Misha stepped closer, his eyes bright and breath shaky. “Yes. I cannot explain why. It is not only touching you, but speaking. I want…I want so much. Vse. Everything. Everything of you.”

  Joy and laughter rushed through Dev as he threw his arms around Misha. “Yes. Everything.” He breathed in Misha’s woodsy cologne and kissed his neck, content to just be in Misha’s arms again. Misha held him tightly, his firm body pressing against him.

  When they stumbled to Dev’s bed—Misha’s clothes scattered on the floor along with Dev’s towel—Misha straddled Dev’s hips and ran his hands over Dev’s chest before bending to tease his nipples with fingers and a clever tongue. Misha’s new stubble scraped the sensitive flesh, and Dev shivered as his cock swelled.

  “Misha,” h
e murmured.

  Misha glanced up with lust-darkened eyes. “Oh yes. Say it again.”

  Dev repeated it as he yanked Misha’s head close for a kiss. “I want…” Dev thrust his hips up, moaning.

  “Tell me.”

  Dev had never been one for talking much during sex, but the words spilled out. “I want to fuck you every way I can. I want your ass and your mouth and your cock. I want to come all over you. I want you to come all over me.”

  Misha muttered something in Russian and reached over the side of the bed to snag his jeans. He pulled a condom and lube packet from his pocket.

  Laughing, Dev ran his hands over Misha’s strong thighs. “Aren’t you the Boy Scout.”

  A furrow appeared between Misha’s brows. “I do not understand.” He squeezed the lube onto his fingers and reached back for his hole.

  “It means… Never mind. Later. I’ll explain…” Dev trailed off as he watched Misha finger himself open with little moans, eyes fluttering shut and a flush rising up his chest. Dev’s cock curved to his stomach, hard and straining.

  With a sly smile, Misha rolled the condom over Dev and raised up on his knees to sink down. Inch by inch, Dev was engulfed by his heat. He wanted to grip Misha and ram into him, but he grabbed the sheets and let Misha set the pace. “Fuck you’re beautiful,” Dev whispered. He traced Misha’s tattoo with his fingertips.

  Head thrown back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, Misha rode him. With the same grace and ease he’d always shown on the ice, he rolled his hips, squeezing around Dev’s cock. “Mne tak khorosho.”

  “I have no idea what you’re saying, but keep talking.”

  With a hearty laugh, Misha met Dev’s gaze and leaned his hands on Dev’s shoulders, changing the angle and groaning. “I say that you feel so good.” He licked the hollow of Dev’s throat. “You are so good inside me, Dev.”

  Bending his legs, Dev used the leverage to thrust harder, not able to resist.

  “Da! Vot tak.” Misha kissed him and murmured, “Like that.”

  The way Misha slipped into Russian during sex made Dev’s balls tighten and sparks tingle on his skin. Digging his heels into the mattress, he found a rhythm and rocked into Misha as Misha slammed down, his cries on every stroke undoubtedly heard all the way in the dining hall. Dev grinned. Let them hear.

  Fingers digging into Dev’s shoulders, Misha panted and rode desperately, a bead of sweat slipping down his chest, and his hair in his eyes. When he stroked himself roughly he came with a groan and striped Dev’s chest, eyes locked with Dev’s as he milked himself. He squeezed with his ass, and Dev jerked and shouted, his orgasm sending the sweet burn of pleasure into every pore.

  They both breathed deeply, nostrils flaring, and Misha rubbed his hand over Dev’s sticky chest, teasing the sparse hair that grew there. “Next you will come on me, yes?”

  “Yes, but give me a minute.”

  A female voice called through the wall. “I need a minute too.”

  Laughing, Dev covered his face. “Oh my God I hope that’s not someone I know,” he whispered.

  Misha called back, “Next show in twenty minutes!” To Dev he added with a shrug, “This is Athletes’ Village. It is a fuckfest.” He removed the condom from Dev’s cock and tied a knot before merrily tossing it into a garbage can near the door.

  Dev laughed again. “We’d better do our part then.”

  Still straddling Dev’s hips, Misha reached to brush his thumb over Dev’s bottom lip. “We will go into the mountains also. There is a restaurant there. Very private, they say. With view of the Alps all around and sky so close you can touch.” A hopeful smile brightened his face. “If you would like?”

  In that moment, the bitter pill of the past few days dissolved into a sense of peace and optimism. Dev smiled back. “I’d like. Very much.”

  They kissed tenderly. Dev didn’t win Olympic gold, but with Misha warm in his arms, he felt as though he’d gained something far more valuable.

  Chapter Ten

  March: The World Championships

  “In first place, and the winners of the gold medal, representing the United States of America—Bailey Robinson and Dev Avira!”

  The home crowd cheered so loudly Dev was certain the arena would fall down around their ears, which would be a shame since he was experiencing one of the greatest moments of his life. His face hurt from grinning, but he couldn’t stop as he and a glowing Bailey took their bows and climbed to the top of the podium.

  He knew it was silly, but Dev felt as if the air they were breathing from their perch was somehow different. Better. The gold disc around his neck was a solid and satisfying weight, and he wondered if it would be completely lame to sleep with it on.

  When the anthem began and the flags were raised with the Stars and Stripes in the middle position, Dev and Bailey giddily belted out the words along with just about everyone in the building. Winning Worlds with so many of their family and friends in attendance was more magical than he’d dared hope.

  Hands over their soaring hearts, he and Bailey sang. He squeezed her shoulder with his free hand and she reached up to tangle their fingers. For once an awards ceremony was over all too soon, and the audience thundered. Posing for pictures this time was a pleasure, and when they did their victory lap it took almost twenty minutes with all the people they needed to stop and hug. Some were family and some loyal fans, including Amaya and Reiko.

  Once Dev and Bailey finally made it around the rink, they were ushered back to the podium, where the network had set up directors’ chairs on the carpet for an interview. The TV lights glared on, almost blinding them.

  The female reporter gushed. “You were the odds-on favorites here to win a world title after your electrifying performances at the Olympic Games, and you did not disappoint! Neither of you put a foot wrong in this competition. How did it feel to skate a perfect program tonight?”

  “It felt like a long time coming,” Bailey replied with a chuckle. “After the Olympics we really worked hard to continue improving so we could end our amateur careers as champions. We couldn’t be happier.”

  “And to do it here in your hometown, Dev!” the reporter exclaimed. “This crowd was a hundred percent behind you guys, and it must mean a lot to be able to become world champs with your families here to support you.”

  “It means everything,” Dev said. “Our families have been there through it all with us, and we share these gold medals with them.”

  “Dev, I know your mother told me she’s planning a heck of a party tomorrow night!”

  He laughed. “It’s true—my mother doesn’t do anything in half measures.”

  “I’m going to eat my weight in masala dosa, just for the record,” Bailey noted.

  The reporter laughed. “So what are your plans now that your amateur career is over?”

  “We’ll be touring this summer across North America and Asia, and after that I’m going to check out some colleges and take a few classes,” Bailey answered.

  “What about you, Dev?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve thought about getting into coaching, so I’m going to explore my options. Bailey and I both want to continue skating together as professionals as long as we can when opportunities arise, so we won’t be taking on anything full-time for a few years yet.”

  “What about in the next little while? How will you celebrate? Are you going to Disneyland?” The reporter asked with a wink.

  Dev found himself smiling. “Actually, I am heading to California for a few weeks before the first tour begins. I think I’ve earned a vacation.”

  Bailey gave Dev’s knee a squeeze. “He’s definitely earned this one.”

  After a few more questions they were finished, and they made their way to the exit by the Kiss and Cry. Dev stopped and looked to Bailey. “This is it. Our last time on competition ice.”

  She took a deep breath. “End of an era, D. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.”

  “Me either. Ready,
B?”

  Eyes shining, she smiled and took his hand. “We got this.”

  “Zoloto! Come here, silly girl,” Misha called to the French bulldog puppy, who barked at the waves as they rolled in.

  They had the beach almost to themselves as the sun sank toward the horizon and the lights of the Santa Monica Pier twinkled on. With their jeans rolled above their ankles, Dev and Misha strolled along and threw sticks for the puppy. Dev loved the grit of the sand between his toes.

  A salty breeze blew off the water, and Dev zipped his hoodie. “It’s getting cold. And don’t even say it.”

  Misha scooped a rock from the sand and skipped it into the water. “What? I said nothing.”

  “Uh-huh. But you were thinking it.”

  Misha still wore just a white T-shirt. “You Americans are so thin-blooded,” he teased. “You don’t know what cold really is.”

  “I’m from Boston. It gets cold there, trust me. Plus I lived in Colorado Springs the past six years. Cold!” He bumped Misha’s shoulder good-naturedly.

  “Zoloto! Come on.” Misha tossed a stick across the sand, and she raced after it, tripping over her paws in her frenzy.

  “I still haven’t decided if naming your dog Gold is charming or arrogant. And a follow-up—I can’t believe they’re letting you bring her on tour.”

  He grabbed the stick from the puppy’s jaws and tossed it again. “They want Kisa and I to skate in their shows? Zoloto comes as well.” He grinned. “I was going to ask for Zoloto to have private dressing room, just to see if they’d agree.”

  Dev laughed. “Look, you might be an Olympic champion, but you’re not JLo. Your ass is too small for starters.”

  Misha gave him a sly glance. “You have complaint about my ass?”

  Dev gave him a pat. “Not even a little bit.” At the thought of all the sex they’d had since he arrived in California three weeks ago, heat surged through him, followed by the sinking feeling in his stomach he felt when he remembered it was all ending in a few days.