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"My main competitor is myself" – Evgeni Plushenko
“Can you watch where you fucking skate, asshole? You almost slashed me!” Steve threw his hands out. If Hargrove didn’t stop skating like a fucking hockey player someone was going to get hurt. And it was only a few weeks until Skate America, where they would both be competing, maybe Billy was really trying to hurt him.
Hargrove stiffened, his back going into a straight, hard line. “If you didn’t wobble around like a two year old in his first class, maybe the other skaters could avoid you. God knows I was tryin’ to, Gorgeous, but you make it so hard.”
Steve scowled, throwing his arms up, “I have a lot of medals that say I don’t wobble around like a two year old, Hargrove. What about you?”
Hargrove turned to glance over his shoulder, his blue-green eyes sparkling in the bright fluorescent lights. “I got the one that counts, don’t I?”
Steve clenched his fists at his sides, though the gloves wouldn’t let him go as tight as he wanted.
At last year’s World Championships, Hargrove had taken the gold by only two points. An extra spin of a rotation that could have pushed Steve’s jump into a quad. That’s all it would have taken.
But instead he’d been stuck on the second rung of the podium, his costume itching his neck, as he looked out over the crowd and tried not to fucking cry.
Steve didn’t think, he just shoved, temper flaring hot. Hargrove looked truly shocked, floating back a little on his skates, blue-green eyes wide. Like he didn’t actually expect Steve would have the balls.
But it didn’t take him long to recover, easily eating up the distance with his skates and grabbing Steve by the collar, jerking him close. Cold air blasts down the collar of his pullover, and the heat from Hargrove’s breath sears his upper lip with heat.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re putting your hands on?” Hargrove’s voice is as ice cold as the stadium.
“The biggest asshole here,” Steve huffs, struggling to undo Hargrove’s grip on his shirt. “Get the fuck offa me, man.”
“You started this,” Hargrove just hangs on tighter, pulling Steve forward on his skates.
Coach Byers appeared out of nowhere, pulling at Billy’s arm, “Break it up.” Her voice was flinty cold, and it doused some of the anger in Steve’s chest with a fresh roll of shame.
Jonathan shoved himself between them, pushing Steve back a few feet.
“He started it,” Billy said wildly, though the fight seemed to have gone out of him as soon as his Coach began to speak low in his ear.
“I don’t care!” Jonathan looked between them. “You’re disrupting. Go to the cool down room, and figure this out. We’re about to have the beginners class here, and I don’t want five year olds to see two grown men acting worse than them.”
“But he-”
“Steve, your dad may own this place but right now I own the ice, and I’m telling you. Go. Cool. Down.” Jonathan was wirey, but there was something in his tone that was even stronger than Billy Hargrove.
Steve stared past him into those glacial blue eyes, and then deflated a little. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Hargrove bit out.
They skated across the ice and Steve wiped his blades quickly, putting his covers on without really thinking about it
He shook his head, muttering a little about his practice time, anger burning in the pit of his stomach. With nationals coming up, he couldn’t exactly afford to miss a day, but Jonathan was right. He also couldn’t afford to give or get a black eye right now.
Hargrove’s steps behind him had all the warmth of a serial killer’s, but Steve endeavored to ignore him, heading to the “cool down room.” It was really just an odd storage space where Coach Hopper had laid down a few mats to keep people from stretching in the hallways. Someone had hung up a few blown-up glamour shots of Team Harrington, Steve’s parents posing dramatically in all their 80s, hairprayed, gold medal glory. He looked away swiftly, looking down at his own skates. The sounds from the rink were muffled, just the barest hint of ‘Clare de Lune’ making its way into this quiet space.
Luckily the room was empty, just in case they decided to get into it on the mats.
Hargrove entered the room behind him, and locked the door.
Looked like they were getting into it on the mats.
“Listen, Hargrove-”
“Oh, me listen? Guy tries to jump me on the ice but I gotta listen,” Hargrove shook his head.
“You almost slashed me!” Steve cried.
“But I didn’t? You almost sideswiped my car on the way into your fancy ass parking spot, but you didn’t.”
Steve put his hands on his hips. “I could have guessed. This is about your fucking car. I almost lost my career because of you and that stupid car.”
“You love my car,” Billy said with a pout. “Gorgeous. You’re cranky as hell today. Need to relax.”
Steve glowered at him, anger tightening like a coil in his chest.
He sprang forward without warning, backing Billy into the door, tasting that burning hot breath on his lips again.
They slammed against the metal door, all tangled limbs and tongues. Someone’s elbow smacked one of the light switches, throwing half the room into shadows, making this all feel just a little more private.
Steve held Billy’s jaw tightly, afraid suddenly that Billy might pull away. He’s not sure why he was afraid though, but it didn’t matter he needed Billy to be right here, right in his arms. He shoved away the panicked feeling in his chest and through himself into the kiss. He couldn’t take anything else.
Billy wasted no time in adapting to Steve’s sudden change, all but climbing up, wrapping his thick thighs around Steve’s waist and gripping his jaw with both hands.
“Fuck, I missed this,” Billy groaned.
“We did this last night,” Steve protested weakly, but then he closed his mouth over Billy’s, silencing them both.
Every time felt like the first time. Every kiss tasted like that hot fuck after Billy took the gold, their medals clanging together in the supply closet as Steve groaned into Billy’s mouth.
Only now, they knew each other. They could play each other like pairs skaters. When Billy moved back, Steve moved forward to catch him.
Billy’s tongue was teasing, soft, but his grip was hard, and Steve melted, grinding into Billy with rough, unstudied thrusts. Steve felt hot, dangerously over sensitive. He could feel the drag of Billy’s fingerprints where they dug into his skin, the beat of his long eyelashes. The cool metal of Billy’s earring brushed Steve’s knuckle and he shivered. Their leggings left almost nothing to the imagination, and Steve felt like he could definitely get off like this.
He panted into Billy’s mouth, holding onto his thighs with a white knuckle grip to keep Billy right where he wanted. He just wanted Billy to stay still, stay right here. Not spinning away or skating off but right where Steve could see him and hold him and kiss him.
Billy broke the kiss, chuckling just a little. “But last night’s not enough for me, Gorgeous. Come on, give it to me.”
Steve groaned, leaning against Billy’s shoulder.
Wasn’t enough? Steve was at his beck and call. Came on command and everything.
The thought soured in his stomach for a second, made his hands tremble as he tried to grip Billy tighter and hold on.
Billy nipped at Steve’s earlobe, chuckling a little. “Look at that. One touch and you’re so hot for me.”
“Shut up. God, you could have really hurt me today.”
“Never want to hurt you,” Billy groaned. “‘M sorry.”
“Shut up,” Steve said with a broken moan, writhing against Billy like a cat in heat.
“I bet you dream about this. I bet you’re always thinking about getting me right where you want me,” Billy teased, gripping a little tighter with his thighs.
It’s natural to be slotted here between his thighs, so ingrained in Steve’s body, it feels like they’ve rehearsed it a thousand times and now is just the competition.
Steve ran the cold tip of his nose up and along Billy’s neck, then his jaw, before burying in Billy’s hair. Billy could’t bite back the stifled gasp completely, arching into Steve for an electric moment.
Billy’s fingerless leather gloves let him grip hard at the nape of Steve’s neck, tugging the hair back so that Steve had to break away.
“Mat, baby, let’s go to the mats. Need to feel you inside me, come on,” Billy ordered, his lids heavy over his eyes, long lashes fluttering.
Steve whimpered, trying to chase Billy’s kiss. His heart is suddenly in his throat because he doesn’t want to break this hold, he’s scared. Suddenly he’s so scared, and-
“Be a good boy, Gorgeous,” Billy tugged a little harder, until Steve’s scalp tingled.
Steve nodded softly, hastening to let Billy down and going down easily when Billy shoved him back onto the mats. The plastic mat caught his fall, but he still groaned, sitting up on his elbows.
Billy stripped off his thin zip up, and his shirt. His skin practically glowed under the fluorescent lights, all golden bronze and gleaming. He fumbled with something in the waist of his leggings, tossing it onto Steve’s chest.
“Fuck. I never asked. Do you go to tanning beds?” Steve asked, looking down at the lube packets in a daze.
“Shut up,” Billy knelt down and began to unlace his skates hastily, but he laughed too, shaking his head and soothing the worry in Steve’s chest a tiny degree. “Pants off.”
“So that’s a yes,” Steve smirked.
“Hurry, will you?” Billy shook his head.
“Keep the gloves on,” Steve said, pulling his shirt and pullover off together.
Billy pulled off his skates and swiftly divested of his tights, crawling over Steve, “Pervert.”
He settled with his thighs on either side of Steve’s hips, his skin cool and soothing. Steve felt like he was burning up inside, and Billy was the only thing keeping him from lighting on fire.
“I thought I was gorgeous?” Steve said, laying back on the mats and lifting his hips to let Billy pull down his own tights.
Billy traced his fingers over Steve’s lips. “You’re my gorgeous pervert.”
“You’re the one with the lube.”
“Gotta stay prepared for you,” Billy smirked. “You’re insatiable.”
Steve breathed in once, then twice, his eyes never leaving Billy’s as he opened his mouth and laid out his tongue like a red carpet.
Billy smirked, haloed by the lights above, and slid his fingers into Steve’s mouth, holding it open as wide as possible. They tasted like salty sweat and leather, and Steve’s eyes rolled back.
“Fuck. You’re so,” Billy was staring down with his sweet, open expression, even as he rubbed his fingers against Steve’s tongue and ground his ass into Steve’s dick. “Steve. Fuck.”
Steve could only nod, making a keening noise that he would never admit to making in a million years. Billy smirked, swirling his hips in a circle.
“Can’t wait, baby, can I fuck you?”
Steve nodded rapidly, lifting his hands to Billy’s hips.
“Yeah?” Billy cocked his head. “You want it? Gonna be good for me, Gorgeous?”
Steve cried out, choking a little on Billy’s fingers.
Billy slid them back away and the words came spilling out.
“Please fuck me, pleaseplease-”
Billy chuckled, “Ok, ok.”
He leaned in, nipping at Steve’s lips quickly, and reaching for the lube packets that got tossed aside in the confusion.
It was a little more awkward than hot for a moment, as Steve did the same, rapidly slicking himself down while Billy pulled some hurried prep.
They had done it last night, and this morning before heading into the rink, so it didn’t take much. Billy made a noise that might have been pain as he sunk down on Steve’s cock, but then Billy giggled, almost drunkenly, and began to roll his hips. Any rational thought Steve might have had was overcome by that rolling pleasure.
They weren’t together, exactly. This arrangement, for lack of a better word, had followed them back from the World’s Championship, and progressed to several nights a week. Steve had a stack of clothes over at Billy’s. Billy kept a bottle of aquanet under Steve’s sink.
They didn’t say what it was. Not in words. Words were hard, fucking was easy. Sliding into Billy was easy. Gasping around Billy’s fingers was easy. Squirming into Billy’s touch was easy. The heat between them was easy.
And so much of this was difficult. The rivalry and the losing and the fear and the constant, constant pushing himself. The nerves and the injuries and the tears.
Sometimes he just wanted to be easy. Sometimes he just wanted to not think anymore. Billy gave that to him. Sometimes Steve thought he was the only one who understood.
Billy gripped Steve’s jaw, waggling his head from side to side. “Still with me, Gorgeous?”
He was sitting on Steve’s cock, not moving, his eyes glimmering with happiness. It was possible that this was how he looked best, splayed wide, hard cock sitting up against his stomach, golden hair glowing.
Steve swallowed, dazed. “Billy.”
“That’s my name, pretty boy. Don’t wear it out.”
Sweat broke out all over Steve’s body. “Move. Please?”
Billy pouted. “But you weren’t paying attention to me.”
“We don’t have t-time, Billy.” They never do, always rushing in these quickies. They’ve fucked all over the rink, and Steve is incidentally in serious trouble with his parents because they caught him fucking in their executive office.. And yet, Steve is still helpless to it, can’t seem to stop himself.
“Yeah.” Billy purred. “What if someone comes in and sees you?”
Steve gasped, a shiver rolling down his spine.
“All splayed out under me. Getting fucked.” Billy slid his hands down to Steve’s throat and pressed a little on the sides with his fingertips, the leather of his glove butter soft against Steve’s bobbing adam’s apple.
At the same time, he tightened down his ass, gripping Steve hard.
“Inside me,” Billy purred, leaning in close and licking Steve’s lips. “You’re so big. So fucking big. I bet you want everyone to see.”
They wouldn’t even be able to hide what they were doing. Billy was naked, ass full of cock, and still looking cool, calm and collected. For a moment, the idea that Billy was doing this to get them caught passed through Steve’s mind. Maybe he wanted to humiliate Steve.
“Hey,” Billy stroked Steve’s neck. “You ok?”
Steve’s vision swam, not with lack of air, but with tears. “Please, Billy, please, feels so good, feels so good, I want it, please. Don’t want them to see, don’t-”
“What do you want?”
“U-use me.”
Billy blinked a little, surprised, and unconsciously sat a little forward. Steve keened, back sliding against the mat.
“What?”
“Use me, use me, Billy please, please-” He broke off with a choked sound as Billy began riding him hard and without warning, giving his throat another slight squeeze. It would be such a relief to be used. To just empty his mind of worries and give in. He doesn’t want to think about the competition, or what he means to Billy.
Steve doesn’t want to think of anything at all.
Steve slid up on the sticky vinyl of the mat in short bursts, mouth open as Billy bit his lower lip.
“I’m the one who gives the orders around here, Gorgeous,” Billy said, eyes boring into Steve’s.
All the while, he resumed grinding into Steve, holding his thighs wide.
“F-fuck yes,” Billy groaned, shoving them across the mats. Steve’s blade guards scraped on the floor as he tried to writhe with the rhythm of Billy’s grinding. His skin felt far too tight, stretched taut with wanting.
“B-billy, Billy-”
“You’re filling me up so good. You feel that, Gorgeous?” Billy whispered, bouncing just a littlew. “So good. Feel so fucking good.”
Steve blinked, his eyes hazy with tears. “Use me, use me-”
“Shh,” Billy cradled Steve’s face, “You ok? You’re crying.”
Steve bit his lip and nodded. “I’m… I’m so stressed out. Please. I need this.”
Billy just nodded. “Ok. Ok, Gorgeous.”
He covered Steve’s mouth with one hand and took one of his hands with the other, lacing their fingers together and holding them close to Steve’s heart on his chest.
“Squeeze if it’s too much,” He said. Steve gave a quick squeeze through their joined hands.
Billy smiled. “Just like that. I… I… good boy.”
And then, he began, hips working furiously, like he could hear someone coming towards the room. And maybe he could. Steve couldn’t hear anything beyond the rush of blood in his ears, beyond the slap of skin and Billy’s little gasps and moans.
“You’re gonna come inside me, Pretty Boy. Is that ok?”
Steve whined and groaned into Billy’s hand, eyes rolling back.
Billy giggled a little drunkenly. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”
Steve back was slicked with sweat on the mats and his leggings were a tight band around his upper hips. Billy was chasing his own pleasure, eyes closed, skin glowing, like Steve wasn’t even there. His skin glistened with sweat, gleaming gold like the medal he won. And he’s blissed like he won too, pink lips stretched into a self satisfied smile. Like Steve was just something to be conquered, like he’s not even there.
Steve closed his eyes, letting the humiliation and shame and confusion wash away until all that was left was the tight spiral of pleasure winding around him and the tears tracking down his face. All that was left was him, and Billy, and that was all he wanted.
The thought was scary, but it wasn’t the first time it had occurred to him. That this was all Steve ever wanted, more than he would ever get. His throat was tight with tears. He threw his arm over his eyes, covering his own face.
“You can come when I come, ok?” Billy panted, his thick thighs sticking to Steve’s every time he swirled his hips and slammed down on Steve’s cock. “Nod if you hear me.”
Steve nodded rapidly.
“Good boy. Holy fuck, you’re such a good boy for me, feel so good,” Billy groaned. “You ok, baby? I’ve been worried about you, I just want to make you feel good, just want to make you happy.”
Steve’s eyes flew open and he looked down at this golden God riding him like there was no tomorrow.
“I’m close,” Billy’s movements got choppier, rougher, and he pulled the hand off Steve’s mouth to begin jerking himself off hard, thumbing the slit of his cock with rolling motions. Someone out in the hallway laughed, and fear raced through Steve’s chest.
“Do it, Gorgeous. Come with me.” Billy tightened down and came, and Steve was helpless to follow, pleasure mixing with fear and nerves. He split open like a crack in the ice, crying out and slamming his head back against the mat.
“Steve,” Billy’s face was open and soft with bliss, head thrown back, the moment crystal with love.
Steve’s breath froze in his lungs and he choked on nothing. He squeezed Billy’s hand and Billy stopped the afterglow on a dime, panic skating across his features.
“Fuck, baby, what’s wrong?” Billy asked, leaning forward and cupping Steve’s face, rising as if to get off.
“No, I’m ok. Do you mean it?” Steve gripped Billy’s hip, but he couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. He sniffled, a snotty mess, pushing back his sweaty bangs with an impatient swipe of his hand.
“What?”
“That you were worried?”
Billy hesitated, his eyes darting over Steve’s face. “You’ve been… hard on yourself. I can tell that you sometimes use me to help you get out of your head but… it’s just felt different. Harsher. I don’t… I can’t use you. Not like that. I want to give you what you want but… I need to know, what’s happening?”
Steve closed his eyes, “I think I… Billy, what are we doing here?”
“I mean. We had sex?”
“No. You and I. What are we doing?”
Billy’s face goes cold and stiff. “Just fucking around.”
“No,” Steve holds Billy’s cheeks right back, rubbing the flushed skin. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, Billy, I can’t take it anymore.”
Billy’s eyes are so blue. Like the ice they both love. A blush was climbing up his cheeks that had nothing to do with his orgasm. It made his eyes look even more blue and deeper, fathomless.
“We fuck constantly. You come over most nights. We talk every day. We… Billy. Please. Say it. I need to hear it.” Steve’s voice was just a broken whisper. “I’m… I’m at my fuckin’ limi-”
“I love you, Steve. I only want to make you happy.” Billy said.
Steve gasped, trying to hold back a sob.
“I’m sorry,” Billy tried to move off of him immediately and Steve’s skin immediately prickled with the need to be touched again. “I tried not to-”
“No, that’s not. I’m not upset. I’m h-happy,” Steve smiled, voice warbling, holding Billy tightly. “I love you, Billy. I just want us to be together. I need us to be together.”
Billy smiled. Then he smiled wider. Those big blue eyes filled with tears and he laughed, squeezing Steve’s hand.
“We are together,” Billy whispered, looking down. “Gorgeous.”
Steve sniffled. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. I just like to rile you up,” Billy giggled once more, falling forward onto Steve’s chest, like he was hiding his face.
“What- oh my God, are you shy?” Steve asked.
“Shut up.”
“You are, you’re shy.”
“I said shut up,” Billy rolled his face so he was looking up at Steve.
“Make me, asshole,” Steve said.
It was weird to say the kiss was romantic, since Steve was covered in come and he’d just called Billy an asshole. But Billy clung to him, lips soft, and the nerves in Steve’s chest finally relaxed. He melted into the mat like a puddle, soaking up Billy’s kiss with every fiber of his being. Swan Lake was playing distantly, and the fluorescents were humming and it was quite possibly the least romantic place on earth, because it smelled a little like feet and ancient vinyl and lysol.
But it was their place. And there was nowhere else Steve would rather be.