Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance

by Keira Andrews

  “You can’t come until I tell you.” Dev’s voice was firm.

  Misha could only whimper and submit as Dev slapped the backs of Misha’s upper thighs. He hung his head again and thought he might explode and come anyway, but then the pleasure and anticipation seemed to go even deeper, and he shivered, eager for more. His ass was raw, and he cried out with each strike as Dev moved back to his cheeks. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and his arms and legs shook.

  Suddenly Dev was hauling him up and Misha was on his knees between Dev’s legs. Dev’s hands were steady on his shoulders. “Let me see you come.”

  Misha barely touched himself before he was shooting, splattering the bedspread that hung down over the end of the bed. The wave of his orgasm rushed through him, and the pleasure was so intense he had to close his eyes, his head back and mouth open. He would have toppled over if not for Dev’s strong, safe grasp.

  He wavered as Dev moved, still not opening his eyes as Dev bent him over the mattress. Chest heaving, Misha pressed his cheek to the duvet, warm from where Dev had sat. He could hear Dev swearing under his breath, along with the sound of a zipper. Then Dev’s cock was against him, and Misha braced himself for a rough fuck.

  But Dev only slid his cock into the crease of Misha’s ass. Grunting, he slid up and down, his sweater harsh against Misha’s tender flesh. With only a few thrusts, he was coming, splashing Misha’s ass. Dev groaned and dropped his head to Misha’s back. His breath was hot.

  “Oh my God. You’re amazing. Have I mentioned that before? Because you are.”

  Misha wanted to answer but couldn’t summon the will.

  With gentle hands, Dev lifted Misha’s hips and helped him climb onto the bed far enough to flop down on his stomach. Dev collapsed beside him on his side, still dressed except for his jeans and underwear pulled down to his hips, his softening dick hanging out. Dev smoothed his palm over Misha’s back.

  “Okay?”

  Misha found the energy to smile. “Da. Very good, in fact.”

  “I didn’t hurt you? I mean, not too much? I mean, not in a good way?” Dev’s brow furrowed and he grazed his hand over Misha’s tender skin. “You’re really red.”

  “It was perfect.”

  Dev propped himself up on his elbow and bent to inspect Misha’s ass. “Are you sure?”

  “I am sure. I would say otherwise.”

  “Okay.” For a moment, Dev appeared flustered, and he smiled awkwardly. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Neither have I.” Misha lifted his hand and brushed back Dev’s curls. “But I liked it. I think you did too?”

  “Oh yeah. I liked it.”

  Dev grinned his beautiful smile that made Misha’s stomach flip-flop, and Misha drew him down for a lazy kiss. “Then we are in agreement.”

  “We are.” Dev snuggled in close. “We should get cleaned up.”

  “Hmm. In a minute.” Misha shifted. The burning in his skin was fading, being replaced by a tingly soreness that pleased him. “I hope I will not fall tomorrow. Perhaps we should not do this when we are to skate.”

  Dev laughed. “Good call.” He pushed himself up and leaned over Misha’s ass again. “Don’t worry. I’ll kiss it better.”

  Misha shut his eyes as he felt the careful softness of Dev’s lips against his tender skin. He moaned in disappointment when Dev raised his head.

  “But next time we should have a safe word. Just in case it goes too far. Do you know what I mean?”

  Misha peered over his shoulder. “Like a codeword to stop. Our little secret, yes?”

  Dev smiled tenderly. “Da.” He bent his head to kiss Misha’s ass again.

  Humming, Misha closed his eyes. This secret he would be delighted to keep close to his heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Orchids—my favorite.” Bailey touched a delicate purple petal and cradled the bouquet in her arm. “But of course you knew that. Thanks, Misha.” She went up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She waved him into her hotel room and shut the door behind him. “Let me just put these in water.”

  “I hope you will forgive my thoughtlessness.” He played with the zipper pull on his hoodie. It would affect his relationship with Dev if Bailey was angry with him, but more than that, Misha found himself genuinely contrite. He liked Bailey and did not want to upset her.

  As she squeezed the flowers into a glass of water in the bathroom, Bailey called back, “Apology accepted.” She plucked her purse from the bed. “We all have our moments. Is everything cool with you and Dev?”

  A flicker of excitement went through him. “Yes.”

  Her eyebrow lifted sky high. “Oh, I see. You guys made up but good, huh? You’re practically glowing.”

  He didn’t bother denying it and only smiled slyly.

  “I love it.” She grinned. “Okay, we’d better hit the road.”

  Misha opened the door as Bailey mumbled something about lip gloss and hustled back to the bathroom. He turned, blinking at the slight blonde in the doorway with her fist raised. “Caroline.”

  She blinked back. “Mikhail! I’m sorry, I must have the wrong room.” Her eyes widened as she peered around him.

  Bailey was there at his shoulder. “Sweet! Hey. I was just coming to meet you in the lobby.”

  “Sorry. I wanted to borrow your team jacket because stupid Grant spilled tomato juice all over mine at breakfast this morning. He and I have a photo thing this morning with this reporter from Buffalo.” She glanced at Misha. “That’s where Grant’s from. Buffalo. It’s in New York. State, I mean. Obviously. But you probably need yours, Bailey, so I can just get it dry cleaned or we won’t wear our jackets in the pictures, which would be fine. Totally fine.”

  Still a teenager, Caroline rambled the way she always did in Misha’s presence. He wasn’t sure if it was him or just her normal state of being—flustered and uncertain.

  “It’s no problem. Let me just grab it,” Bailey said.

  Misha and Caroline smiled awkwardly at each other. Misha cleared his throat. “I was just here to…” His mind was frustratingly blank.

  “It’s cool! None of my business. I shouldn’t have just shown up unannounced.”

  Bailey reappeared and thrust the blue jacket with red-and-white adornments at Caroline. “Here you go, Sweet. Mikhail and I were just going to meet Dev and Kisa. We’ve got another joint interview thing later, so we’re going over our answers.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” Caroline nodded rapidly. “Okay, bye!” She scurried away and disappeared around the corner toward the elevators.

  Bailey sighed. “Terrific.”

  “She thinks that we are…” He motioned between them.

  “Yep.”

  “She will speak to others?”

  With a snort, Bailey closed her door. “This is figure skating. Gossip is like, our fifth and most important food group. Her thumbs are undoubtedly tapping out tales of our scandalous hook-up as we speak.” She linked her hand through his arm. “On the bright side, no one will suspect a thing about you and Dev.”

  A frown creased Kisa’s face as she and Misha stroked around the rink. “Has something happened? Why do they whisper?”

  Bailey had been right, of course, and it was clear the rumor of their supposed affair had spread through the cast as if Caroline had set a match to fireworks. Andrew glared at him as he skated by, and Misha sighed. “They think Bailey and I are a couple.”

  Kisa laughed. “Close, but not quite. Why in heaven would they think that?”

  As Misha filled her in, she laughed even harder.

  He huffed. “It is not funny! Look at how Andrew stares at me. I do not want to be a villain.”

  “Misha, we have been the villains for years. Pay them no mind.”

  Dev and Bailey were taking a break at one end of the rink, leaning by the boards and eating bananas. Misha willed Dev to look up as he neared, but to no avail.

  “Kisa and Mikhail?” One of the PAs called out.
“It’s your turn to practice your solo.”

  Most of the other skaters hung out in the stands, snacking and chatting, while Dev and Bailey were still in the far corner. Misha turned away, tugged off his black warm-up jacket, and straightened his gray T-shirt. Time to concentrate. He and Kisa took their opening position, holding each other’s hands and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. As the music began, Misha took a deep breath. It was “Time After Time,” an old song Kisa had loved since, as a child, her mother had secretly listened to it on pirate radio. It was perfect for an exhibition—stirring and romantic and nostalgic for many people in the audience.

  In exhibitions, they never did side-by-side jumps, and neither did most pair teams. Too much risk, since a fall in an exhibition could ruin it. Later there would be a throw triple toe since Kisa could land those in her sleep, and their first big trick was their split triple twist—one of their very best elements.

  They rounded the rink with crossovers as the music built to the chorus, and he gripped Kisa’s waist, both of them skating backwards. As Kisa used her toe pick to spring up, Misha turned, skidding a little with his left blade to open up his body and vault her above his head, watching her rotate through the air in a blur and reaching up to—

  Everything went black as pain exploded below his eye. He grappled blindly for Kisa as he lost his balance and crashed back onto the ice, the breath knocked from him like a punch. Kisa sprawled on top of him, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. For a moment he could only see bright lights before Kisa’s stricken face swam above him. She was saying something, but he couldn’t understand what.

  Then, as if he had removed ear plugs, sound returned. He could hear the panicked shouts of the PAs and producers calling for the medics, and Kisa knelt at his side, touching his face gently. Then Dev appeared on his other side, eyes wild.

  “Misha!” Dev touched his head and body, as if prodding for injuries. “Can you hear me?”

  “Of course.” Misha tried to sit up, but Dev and Kisa held him down.

  Bailey hovered behind Dev, her face pinched.

  “No. You might have hit your head when you fell,” Dev said. He brushed back Misha’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He took Misha’s hand. “Does it hurt? Of course it hurts; you just got an elbow in the face.”

  Tears slipped down Kisa’s cheeks. “It was my fault. I didn’t pick in hard enough. I was too low.”

  “Shh.” Misha patted her. “I am fine. Truly. I can get up.” His cheek throbbed and he would likely have bruises on his back, but he was sure he had kept his head up when he fell. Although there was so much pain throbbing through him, he couldn’t be positive.

  “No!” Dev kept his hand on Misha’s chest. “Just wait.” He yelled over his shoulder. “Seriously, where are the medics?” He kissed Misha’s forehead. “Just don’t move until they check you over.”

  Near Misha’s feet, Caroline and Hanako stood, watching with matching head tilts and baffled expressions. Andrew and Grant looked at each other and then back at Misha and Dev.

  Grant cleared his throat. “Um…what’s happening? Are you guys…”

  “Yes, they’re fucking!” Bailey announced. She leaned over Dev’s shoulder. “How are you doing, Misha? Hanging in there?”

  “Fine. Let me up.” He tried to move, but Kisa and Dev were unrelenting.

  “But I thought…” Caroline trailed off. “Dev and Mikhail? Wait, Mikhail’s gay?”

  In unison, Bailey, Dev, and Kisa answered, “Yes!”

  Misha laughed, grimacing as his back spasmed. The medics shoved through the assembled group and ordered Kisa and Dev out of the way. They poked Misha and shone light in his eyes, asking him questions and insisting on a neck brace and backboard. When Misha protested, one of the producers stepped in.

  “It’s a liability issue. We’re transporting you to the hospital for tests. No argument.”

  “But…” With a grumble, he gave in.

  “Kisa and I are riding with him,” Dev told the producer firmly.

  The rest of the skaters still stood nearby, looking back and forth between Misha and Dev with varying degrees of astonishment as Misha was loaded onto a stretcher.

  Bailey rolled her eyes. “For the record, you guys are all, like, totally blind. And once you get over the shock, they’re pretty freaking adorable. So get over it already.” She gave Misha’s arm a squeeze. “Good thing you’ve got a hard head, right?”

  “Very solid,” Misha agreed.

  Then they were wheeling him off the ice and through the back of the arena. He could only see the vast ceiling above him, pipes crisscrossing through the concrete. He caught glimpses of the head of one of the paramedics, and his chest tightened, although he was sure Dev and Kisa were close behind. He relaxed a bit as he heard clomping that had to be them running to catch up in their skate guards.

  Snow landed wet on his face as he was rolled outside and maneuvered around into a waiting ambulance.

  “Sorry, only one person can ride with him,” a paramedic said nearby, his voice sounding too loud to Misha’s ears. He could only clearly see the roof of the ambulance with his head immobilized, and he tried to look down at where Dev perched by his other side, Kisa on the steps.

  Kisa’s eyes glistened. “I will go in taxi.”

  “No, you’re coming with us.” Dev tugged her onto his lap, glaring at the paramedic. “It’s fine; we both fit.”

  Misha couldn’t see the paramedic, but after a moment, the man sighed. “Okay, okay, but only since the hospital is close.”

  As the siren wailed and they sped away, the paramedic took his vitals, his pen scratching paper near Misha’s head.

  Dev leaned over and smiled shakily. “Bailey’s right. You’ll be fine.”

  “Please, do not worry.”

  “Of course we worry.” Kisa clutched his thigh. “You will have all the tests.” She addressed the paramedic. “Do you think any bones are broken?”

  Gently, the paramedic probed Misha’s cheek. “I don’t think so.”

  “How is your elbow?” Misha asked.

  “Sore.” Kisa smiled tremulously. “You do have a very hard head.”

  Dev still watched him anxiously, and Misha took his cold, sweaty hand. “Do not worry so much, Vassenka.”

  “There are just so many things—” Dev blew out a breath. “Are we almost there?” he asked the paramedic.

  “Less than a minute out. But really, I think he’s fine. No signs of head trauma.”

  “Okay.” Dev nodded. “Okay. You’re going to be fine, Misha.”

  “This is what I tell you.”

  Dev kissed him softly. “And you’re always right.”

  “I would not say always,” Kisa muttered.

  “Good point,” Dev replied.

  “Wait, wait, now you gang up. It is unfair.” Misha winced as he tried to smile, the ambulance slowing.

  When they took him away for the tests, although his body was sore, his heart sang.

  “Okay, now sit down.” Dev gently guided Misha to the side of the bed and knelt at his feet, going to work on the laces of his sneakers.

  “I can take off my own shoes!” Misha laughed. “I am barely injured. I’m fine, Vassenka.”

  “Just because you don’t have a concussion doesn’t mean you aren’t hurt. You hit the ice hard.” Dev pulled off Misha’s shoes and socks and then stood. “Arms up.”

  Misha did as he was told, and Dev pulled off his T-shirt. “Are you going to bathe me once you have removed all my clothes?” He leered. “I would enjoy that.”

  “This isn’t funny!” Dev ran a hand through his tousled hair. “God, Misha. I can’t…” He exhaled sharply.

  Blinking, Misha reached for him, but Dev paced to the bathroom and then back again.

  “I am fine. It’s only a bruise.” He touched his swollen and tender cheek. Fortunately Kisa’s elbow had missed his eye and hadn’t broken his cheekbone. The slight bruises on his back were n
othing. “Why are you so serious?”

  “Because you scared the hell out of me! You know what kind of head injuries can happen when a twist comes down wrong like that. I heard the gasp from everyone, and I was all the way down the rink when I saw you go down. I was so scared. In that moment it was like I could see everything we haven’t done yet. Everything we would lose if something happened to you. Everything I would lose if I didn’t have you.”

  Still sitting on the side of the bed, Misha tried to think of the right words. He wanted to go to him, but Dev seemed as though he was coming out of his skin. “I am here. You have lost nothing. Do not be afraid.”

  “But I am.” Dev took a deep breath and blew it out as he started to pace back and forth on the gray carpet. “I’m afraid. That’s why I haven’t told my parents about you. Why I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s been so good—moving in together, finding a new job and learning how to coach. Being with you…it’s been perfect. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  Misha frowned. “A shoe?”

  “Sorry, it’s a saying. It means I’m waiting for something to go wrong when everything’s right. Because it seems impossible that things would be this good. And I love my parents and my family, but…I honestly don’t know how they’ll feel about us being together. I don’t want anyone to ruin this. I want to keep you all to myself in our little bubble. I want to keep you safe.”

  Wordlessly, Misha held out his hand. Dev closed the distance between them and took it, dropping to his knees by Misha’s feet. Misha caressed Dev’s hair as their eyes met. “I wish the same for you. I have my own fears.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Dev rubbed his hands lightly up and down Misha’s thighs. “Right?”

  “Right.” Misha fervently hoped it was true.

  When Dev held him, Misha couldn’t stop himself from wincing, and Dev immediately sat back.

  “Shit. Sorry.” He stood and nudged Misha back. “Lie down. You need to rest.”

  Misha did as he was told and let Dev remove the rest of his clothes. When Dev left Misha’s boxer briefs, Misha huffed and peeled them off himself. “Come. I am not mortally wounded. I want to feel you against me.”