Dev opened his mouth, and Misha aimed for it, splashing Dev’s cheeks and up onto his forehead, his milky cum pale on Dev’s skin. They were marking each other like animals, and it made Misha come so hard. Dev’s eyes were closed, and he swallowed every drop he managed to catch.
Then they were kissing again, and the taste of them both mixed on their tongues. They were sticky and sweaty and together, and Misha had never been happier as he licked Dev’s face clean. Dev ran his fingers through the mess on Misha’s belly and wiped it over the lines of the tattoo on Misha’s hip. Carefully, Dev traced the eagle’s wings with his spunk before following with his tongue as Misha shuddered.
Breathing heavily, Dev finally flopped onto his back. “You’re the best jet-lag remedy ever. You should bottle that. Although no, on second thought, I want it all for myself.” He idly caressed Misha’s thigh. “God, you’re amazing.”
Misha shrugged and tried not to smile. “Yes. This is true.”
“And as modest as ever.” Dev laughed before yawning widely.
“You are tired.” Misha curled on his side, sliding his leg over Dev’s. Drawing his fingertips over the hair on Dev’s chest, he kissed his shoulder. “Perhaps we should have waited. It will be a long day tomorrow.”
Eyes drifting shut, Dev shook his head. “No way. I waited long enough to have you again. No one else even comes close.”
Misha’s heart skipped a beat, and his hand froze on Dev’s chest. The question came out before he could stop himself. “Have there been others since I saw you?” His stomach clenched at the thought.
Dev’s eyes snapped open. “What? No, of course not.” Hurt flickered across his face. “Have you…?”
“No.” They were both rigid, and Misha soothed his hand over Dev’s chest, breathing deeply. He leaned over and kissed Dev softly. “There is only you.”
With a long exhale, Dev relaxed. “Good.” He rubbed their noses together. “I guess we should have talked about that, huh? I just figured we were on the same page.”
“Yes. The same page. The same sentence, I think.”
“Same word.” Dev grinned before his smile faded. “Hey, you didn’t bring Zoloto. I miss her.”
“Sorry, but tonight you are all mine, Vassenka.”
Dev nuzzled Misha’s cheek. “Tell me what that means.”
“It does not mean a thing, really. We do not have your name in Russian. But Devassy, it is a little like Vasiliy or Vassya, so…Vassenka. My little name for you.” He kissed Dev lightly. “If you do not like it, I will stop.”
“No, no. I like it. I like it a lot.” He smiled. “Just as long as you’re not secretly calling me an asshole.”
“Never. Well, perhaps from time to time.”
They laughed, and Dev rubbed his calf against Misha’s leg. Misha played with the hair on Dev’s chest. “Do you ever wear your tiny elephant?”
“After Worlds, I gave it to my mom. She was worried about some tests the doctor did, and I told her that little jade necklace would be her good-luck charm too.”
“Tests? You did not mention this.” Misha frowned. “Is everything all right?”
“Absolutely. She passed with flying colors.” Dev smiled.
“Good, good.” Misha was relieved, but there was also a twinge of sadness that Dev hadn’t told him about it. But why should he? She was fine, and there was no reason Dev should tell him every small thing.
“I’m so glad I’m finally here. Damn hurricane.”
“I checked the weather so often Kisa threatened to take away my phone.” Misha’s chest was sticky but he liked the sensation as it tightened on his skin. “I am very happy now. The whole summer we shall be together. And fall and winter and spring.”
Dev ran his fingers over Misha’s arm where it lay across his waist. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Not going back to training? Usually after Stars on Ice, it would be a week of vacation and then back to the rink. Meeting with the choreographers for new programs. Seamstress for new costumes. Then work, work, work to get ready for the fall. It’s going to be so strange not to be at Skate America this year.”
“It is finally over.” Misha sighed with a smile.
Dev shifted onto his side facing Misha. “You sound so glad. Won’t you miss it at all?”
“I would much rather be here in your bed than on the rink in Moscow.”
With a chuckle, Dev kissed him. “Duh. But sometimes I still can’t believe it’s all over.” His smile faded. “I know it’s different for you. Now you can leave Russia.” He caressed Misha’s cheek. “They can’t control you anymore.”
His chest tightened. “I hope they will not try now that we have given them gold. My family tells me not to worry about them, but things have become worse. Many arrests. Threats. Intimidation. The government says it is all to protect children, but they lie.”
“I’m so glad you left.” Dev exhaled sharply. “God, it’s so horrible what’s happening over there.”
“They were very angry when I refused to do a Russian tour. We said we had already committed to other tours. It was true enough. I hope that before long, they will forget about me. As long as I stay out of the papers, they should. There will be more skaters for them to control.”
Dev grimaced. “Yeah. I think it’s best if no one finds out about us for the time being. Best for Bailey and Kisa too. We have to think of them. The illusion of romance is part of pairs skating. If people knew about us, would they still buy me and Bailey skating to some Celine Dion love song? We all need to make money doing shows while we can. Never know when the offers will dry up. There’s no pro circuit the way there used to be. And you know how gossip spreads like a rash in skating. It’s better to fly under the radar. Not rock the boat.”
It was, although Misha wished it could be different. “What about your family?”
Dev rolled away and stared at the ceiling. “I haven’t told them yet. I just…they’re okay with me being gay. They are. But I’ve never really been serious about anyone, and I think that’s made it easier for them. You know what I mean? Like, it’s easier to accept that I’m gay in theory as opposed to reality. My mom has tried to set me up with guys, but she knows I won’t do blind dates, so it’s safe. I worry about how my parents will react if I…” He looked at Misha. “If we…”
Misha nodded. “Right now, it can be our secret, yes? Let us see how we feel after the summer.” He ran his thumb over Dev’s lower lip. “Part of me wishes I could scream from the rooftops how I care for you.” He chuckled. “Everyone would be very shocked, I think. They believe we hate each other very much.”
“They definitely do.” Dev laughed. “In the shuttle to the hotel tonight, Brad was all, ‘Wow, those Russians haven’t thawed out, huh?’” He traced the contours of Misha’s face with his fingertip. “If only he knew how hot you are. How passionate.”
Desire sparked in Misha’s belly, and Dev’s light touch sent a shiver down his spine. “It is enough that you know. It is just ours for now. Well, and Kisa and Bailey. And Zoloto. No one else needs to know until we decide.”
Dev’s lips quirked up. “I’m just imagining the looks on people’s faces. I think the Feds would have a group heart attack. By the way, they tried to convince me and Bailey to un-retire. Sue Stabler was at her most charming and persuasive when she came to see us on Stars on Ice.”
Misha’s breath caught. “Your federation wants you to continue?” A barrage of thoughts tumbled through his mind. Dev moving back to Colorado Springs to train. Traveling around the world to compete. Misha only seeing him a few times a year. No, no, no.
“Hey, hey.” Dev held Misha closer. “It’s okay. Bailey and I are done. We decided that last year. We’re going to do shows and get all the money we can before America forgets about us. And we’re going to enjoy the hell out of not being up at five a.m. every day to train.”
With an exhale, Misha relaxed again. “Okay.”
“We get to travel Asia together all summer, and then we’ll find a
house right by the water in LA. I loved that one rental listing you e-mailed.” His eyelids drooped. “Looks perfect.”
“I thought so also.” Misha smiled.
Dev’s eyes closed. “Mmm.”
“Comfortable?” Misha pulled the thick covers over them.
“Uh-huh. I think…” Dev trailed off, his lips parting.
Misha kissed Dev’s forehead. “I think you sleep now.”
For a long while, he closed his eyes and listened to Dev’s soft snores. He knew he had to return to his own room and that they would be together again the next night. And the next and the next and the next. But he snuggled in closer. Soon he would go, but not just yet.
Chapter Twelve
“Chert,” Misha muttered as he dug his phone out of the wet sand. That’s what he got for keeping it in the pocket of his hoodie and not his jeans.
Zoloto circled him, barking before scurrying away from an incoming wave. Misha hurried back to the house while she trotted along behind. After climbing the few stairs to the wooden patio and rinsing his feet with a low tap, Misha left her gnawing on a rubber bone while he slipped inside and slid the glass door shut behind him. Better to deal with the phone without her underfoot.
The sun warmed the pantry of the bright, open kitchen. Misha pulled out the bag of brown rice and filled a plastic container, nestling his damp phone inside. With any luck, the rice would soak up the moisture. As he sealed the lid carefully, Dev’s voice echoed down from upstairs.
“Hey, Ma.”
The main-floor living room had a cathedral ceiling, with the three bedrooms upstairs tucked away at the front and back of the house. The master bedroom faced the sea with floor-to-ceiling windows, and Dev used one of the guest rooms as a sort of office. He was likely there now, and Misha wondered whether he should go and tempt Dev away from work. He smiled to himself. It was late afternoon—surely he needed a break.
“Work’s going really well. I’m learning a lot from Mr. Clark. I was just tweaking the practice plans for the junior skaters.” He paused. “Of course he knows I’m doing the show in Boston on Christmas Eve. Ma, he has no problem with giving me time off to do shows. Yes, I know NBC is actually airing live skating for the first time in forever. No, it’s not a problem. Yes, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be prepared to skate. Mr. Clark has a few other assistants, and I’m the low man on the totem pole.”
Misha smiled to himself. Dev might be new at coaching, but he was a natural. Misha had no doubt Dev would have his own students one day.
“What do you mean, Ma? I’m only working part time, and he’s good with that. Yes, I’ll be home next week for rehearsals.” He paused again. “No, they’re putting us up in a hotel by the Garden. Because it’ll be a heck of a lot easier than coming in from Belmont every day. And before you ask, yes, of course I’m staying for Christmas. I’m not sure about New Year’s yet. But you know me. It’s my least favorite holiday. Much ado about nothing.”
Misha stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. He’d wanted to be back in LA by the thirty-first so they could do something special together. Since they were still keeping their relationship to themselves, he’d thought he would cook dinner—some of the traditional holiday dishes from home. Maybe get a New Year’s tree, as they’d have in Russia. Yet, perhaps Dev would not want to celebrate.
Misha tried not to feel disappointed but failed miserably. It would feel very sad not to celebrate the new year. Even when he trained in Moscow, he and Kisa and their coaches always had a tree and special dinner.
“Wait, what? Ma, you’re not setting me up.” A pause. “I don’t care if he’s a cardiologist! I’m not interested.”
Misha knew he should go back outside with Zoloto, but he couldn’t seem to stop listening to Dev’s voice from upstairs.
“Because…because I’m seeing someone already.”
Misha’s heart skipped a beat.
Dev sighed loudly. “Calm down. Of course I was going to tell you. I’m telling you right now!”
Would Dev really finally tell his mother he was living with his most hated rival? Yes, they’d agreed to keep it secret, but months had gone by. Misha knew they’d both been afraid that in the real world their connection wouldn’t last, but Misha had never been so happy.
He held his breath, knowing he shouldn’t eavesdrop but frozen on the spot anyway.
From upstairs, Dev went on. “It’s someone from…skating. From the rink. So I don’t need you to set me up.” A hush. “His name? It’s…Misha. Ma, I have to go. There’s another call. Love you!”
In the silence that followed, Dev didn’t speak to anyone else. Misha remained in the kitchen doorway, watching the sunlight dapple the light-wood flooring that ran through the house. He understood Dev’s hesitation to tell his mother the truth, but his chest still felt hollow. At least Dev had given his name, although Mrs. Avira would only know him—and dislike him—as Mikhail. The man who’d beaten her son and stolen his dream of Olympic gold.
Dev was on the stairs when Misha snapped out of his reverie. He quickly retreated and opened the large stainless-steel fridge. When Dev walked in, Misha glanced over, and butterflies frolicked in his belly as Dev smiled.
“Hey! Good walk?” Dev kissed him easily, his hand trailing over Misha’s hip.
“Except for dropping my phone.” Misha motioned to the plastic container on the counter. “They say to seal it in rice and not to turn it on. We shall see.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Dev bent and peered into the side of the clear container. He chuckled. “I have no idea what I’m expecting to see. But if you need a new phone, I’m pretty sure I can get a deal with adding someone else to my plan.”
“Even though we are not…official?” Misha opened the produce drawer in the fridge and rooted around aimlessly.
“Well, we can tell the phone company we live together. I’m pretty sure they won’t send out a press release.” He rubbed his palm across Misha’s back. “Hey, are you okay? Don’t worry about the phone. We’ll sort it out.”
“Of course.” Misha waved his hand dismissively and kept his tone light. He had agreed that Dev could tell his family in his own time, and there was no sense in being upset. He stepped back so Dev could see into the fridge as well. “What shall we eat?”
“Whatever you want. I’m easy.”
Misha smirked. “Yes, but what are you hungry for?”
Dev nudged him with his shoulder. “Ha, ha.”
“We could go out. I have read about a new Italian restaurant only a few blocks away.”
Dev tensed. “But what if someone sees us? With smartphones now, it’s pretty easy to get caught. I think it’s better that we stay in. Don’t you?”
“Ya, ya.” Misha shrugged. “It was only an idea.”
“Hey,” Dev murmured as he rubbed Misha’s back. “Are you upset? You know it’s not that I don’t want to. If you’ve changed your mind about keeping this quiet, tell me.”
“No, of course not. Nothing has changed in our situation. But we had dinner in Annecy and no one discovered us. Remember? Up in the mountains?”
Dev smiled tenderly. “I remember. One day we’ll go back there. In the meantime…”
“Yes.” Misha pressed a kiss to Dev’s cheek. “All right, what shall we eat?”
“You know I never met food I didn’t like.”
“You did not like the borscht.”
“I did!” Dev slapped his arm lightly. “Just because I didn’t have seconds, you’re convinced I hated it. Besides, you didn’t even like it!”
Misha huffed. “Of course I did!”
“You did not and you know it. You only made it as a joke anyway.”
Truthfully, it had been watery, and Misha needed his mother’s recipe and not the thing he’d found online. “Perhaps,” he allowed.
“Ah! Finally he admits it!”
“I admit nothing, Vassenka.” Misha tried not to smile. He plucked the carton of milk from the fridge, shooting Dev a glare when he felt ho
w empty it was. “Why do you put it back with only a few drops left?”
“There’s plenty left!” Dev took the carton from him and shook it. “Well, okay. Maybe not. I’ll pick up more tomorrow. But hey, you left the lid off the toothpaste this morning. Again. Just FYI.”
“Many apologies. I suppose I must have one flaw, no?”
Dev smacked Misha’s ass playfully. “I suppose. Okay, dinner. No borscht. But no cake tonight either. We’ve got to fit into our costumes in two weeks. Not that you’ll have any trouble, always running around the beach.” He patted his stomach. “But if I’m not careful, the five pounds I’ve gained is going to become ten.”
Misha pulled Dev close and ran his hands over the firm, lean muscles beneath Dev’s T-shirt. “You are too critical. None of us stay at competition weight. We should eat and be happy. Although we still have to lift the girls, so let’s hope they have not been too happy.”
Dev laughed. “I dare you to say that to Kisa.”
“I value my good health far too much.” He picked an apple from amid the tangerines and bananas in a bowl on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Did I mention she wants me to…how do you say it? Gift her away? At her wedding.”
“Give her away. That’s great. But wait, does that mean you’d go back to Russia for the wedding? Are you sure it would be okay?” Frowning, Dev ran his hand up and down Misha’s arm. “Do you think the officials who know you’re gay would try to use it against you? With all the arrests happening, I don’t think you should go back.”
Misha played with the stem of the apple, trying to keep his voice casual. “Kisa says it will be a long engagement so that I may attend. With more time, the people will forget about me and I won’t be of any consequence to the government. That is my great hope, at least. And that this government will fall and reason and justice will return.”
Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance Page 12
