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Michael rings his hands nervously as he waits for his scores to be announced. The camera is facing him, and he knows millions of people are currently watching him live.
He’d just aced his freestyle skiing routine, if he does say so himself. It’d only taken place a few minutes prior, so he’s still out of breath and covered in sweat. His limbs ache despite all of the practice and training he’s done for the very routine he’s just pulled off.
But he’d done it so flawlessly though. No screw ups or failed landings. It went just as perfectly as he’d hoped it could. It was what he and his coach have been striving for ever since he began.
He can worry about the minor pains later though, right now all he cares about are his scores. And why the judges are taking so long to announce them. A longer wait time is rarely good news, and it only makes him more nervous.
"You did fucking good, Michael," Geoff reassures him. His coach, Geoff Ramsey, is sitting next to him, and has a hand on his shoulder to keep him settled. He’s thankful for it. Without it, he’d probably be up pacing and walking around.
He looks up, meeting Geoff’s eyes for the first time since he’d finished his routine.
Afterwards it had just been a flurry of celebration. Hugging his parents, friends, and anybody else nearby even if they were complete strangers. The roar of the crowd cheering for him did nothing but boost his confidence and happiness. It didn’t even matter if he was hugging one of the cameramen. He’d worked so hard for this moment, and fuck was he going to enjoy it while it lasted. It didn’t even matter if he got the lowest score possible. He did good, he knew he did, the crowd knew he did. He didn’t give a fuck if the judges thought the opposite.
But now that he’s sat there waiting for his score, he can’t think of anything he cares about more in the world. It’s probably only been a few seconds, but to Michael it feels like hours.
Which is why he’s confused when he meets Geoff’s eyes for the first time. He’s known the man long enough to know when he’s wearing a fake smile. But this time it’s different. This time the smile genuine. He’s proud of Michael, undeniably happy for him and overjoyed at how well he’s done. But there’s a hint of worry in his eyes. As though something has gone wrong and he feels guilty.
The only other time Michael has seen this expression on his bosses face is when his daughter, Rosie, had fallen off of her bike and scraped her knee. He’s extremely protective of his family and always feels at fault if something happens to one of them.
Which is why Michael is concerned now. Something must have happened and Geoff didn’t want to tell him. Either because he didn’t want to ruin Michael’s big moment or throw him off his game. But now it’s over. He’s done his routine (pretty fucking well) and despite the fact that he doesn’t know his scores yet, he wants to be filled in on what happened now.
He cares more about Geoff and his family and he does about gold medals. The tiny family has practically become his own over the past few years.
"What’s going on?" he asks.
Geoff doesn’t bothering try to act vague about it, knowing that if he says he’ll explain later, it will only result in an argument. So instead he gives up, and just looks Michael straight in the eyes and says it.
"Gavin’s in the hospital."
And Michael hardly even registers the scores that indicate that he’s earned himself a gold medal.
*
Michael’s leg is bouncing furiously only due to his refusal to sit still. He wishes he could get up and pace, or punch something. Staying in the waiting room is awful and he just wants to know if Gavin is okay.
Griffon has reassured him numerous times that he’s going to be fine. She’s heard it from the doctors herself, and he feels guilty for not believing her. Her words could just be a ruse to make him calm down. But he can’t calm down when his boyfriend is in the hospital, it just isn’t possible.
Gavin had been outside, playing with Geoff and Griffon’s daughter Rosie when it happened. The young girl has always had an interest in figure skating ever since she’d met Gavin. Him getting a gold medal in the event only heightened that love even more.
Despite the fact that they were leaving soon to go watch Michael’s performance, they went outside to play on the ice for a short while.
The hotel that they’re all staying at is next to a park, which has a small lake. Rosie, still being super excited that Gavin won a gold medal, asked if he could teach her how to skate. Originally, Gavin said no. Neither of them were wearing skates, only boots. Besides, he had no idea how safe the ice was. But one puppy dog pout from her had him wrapped around her little finger.
According to Rosie, she demanded that he try to do ‘one of those pretty spin jump thingies’ and he lost his footing. His head hit the ice, and colored it red.
Luckily there were others at the park who witnessed what had happened. Ambulances were called and people came forth to reassure and soothe the young girl who was sobbing uncontrollably. By the time the ambulance had arrived, Geoff had left the hotel to go gather the two from the park. His heart stopped when he’d seen the flashing lights and crowd of people.
Rosie cried the entire time Gavin was being placed on the stretcher by paramedics. She held her arms tightly around her father’s neck, soaking his shirt with tears. When asked who was coming in the ambulance, he was about to volunteer, but Griffon (who he’d called over immediately once he’d figured out what was going on) told him not to. He had to go support Michael. She’d text him updates or call if anything serious happened, but right now Michael’s big day couldn’t be ruined. Gavin would be heart broken if he caused that.
And that’s why Michael’s only slightly pissed that he wasn’t told until hourslater. Gavin is his goddamn boyfriend. He’d give up competing in a thousand Olympics to make sure that he’s okay. Regardless of how many times Griffon tells him that he would have spent all of that time in the waiting room, he doesn’t care.
Even Rosie is still upset. A few tears still stream down her cheeks every so often while she plays with the toys in the waiting room. It’s been difficult to convince her that none of this was her fault.
He stands up immediately as soon as he sees Geoff walking out of the doors with a doctor. They’re talking quietly to one another, but neither look overly concerned or heartbroken. Okay, nothing too bad then. Gavin might be alright. The more Michael repeats the words over and over again in his head, the more relaxed he feels.
When Geoff sees him practically run over, he engulfs the boy in a hug.
"He’s fine, Michael. I swear he’s okay," he says, his words muffled against Michael’s shoulder.
"Thank God," he mumbles, pure relief coursing through his veins as he detaches himself from the older man, "So, what’s the verdict?"
"He had to have stitches, but other than that he only has minor bruising on other parts of his body. No brain damage." The doctor informs, and Michael has to resist the urge to reach out and hug him too. "He’s awake right now and doing wonderful. But I should warn you, he’s on some pain medication and seems to be slightly disoriented from it. He had no recollection of who Mr. Ramsey was. So, don’t be alarmed if he doesn’t remember you, he’ll be fine once the drugs wear off."
"Can I see him?"
"Yes. Just be patient and try not to speak too loudly."
Michael doesn’t care if they have to duct tape his mouth closed. He just wants to see his boy.
*
Michael wrings his fingers together nervously as he steps into Gavin’s hospital room.
The man is sitting up in his bed, wearing a hospital gown. But what Michael really notices is the bandage wrapped around his head. It almost makes him look broken, but the simple smile on his face contradicts it.
He tries to walk in slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movement, but he can’t stop the sigh that escapes his lips. It’s such a weight off of his shoulders to see Gavin sitting here, awake and okay.
"Hey, buddy," Michael murmurs with a relieved smile.
"Hi," he responds, his eyes slightly drooping as he speaks. It isn’t hard to tell that he’s out of it. But once he finally gets a good look at Michael, who sits down on the chair next to his bed, his eyes widen. "Who are you? You are ungodly attractive. Did you walk into the wrong room?"
Michael raises an eyebrow and resists the urge to laugh, “Uh, no? I’m pretty sure I’m in the right room. My name is Michael.”
"Michael," he repeats the name to himself a few times, as though trying to place why it sounds so familiar to him.
"The doctor said you’re pretty drugged up. Do you remember me?"
"Not really. Do we know each other? Did you fix my head? Are you one of the doctors?"
It’s amusing to hear him ask so many questions at once as though he’s a curious child, but difficult not to smile at how charming and cute he is even when he’s in a hospital and his words are practically slurring together. He kind of sounds like a drunken toddler.
He’s only just alert enough to hold a semi-understandable conversation.
"No, sorry. I’ve tried for many years, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix that messed up head of yours."
"We’ve known- We’ve known each other for years?”
"Yeah, we’ve been dating for quite a while now." He smiles as he thinks back to their first meeting. When Geoff first became his coach and he was introduced to his bouncy practically-adopted British son that was also hoping to compete in the Olympics one day.
It’s hard not to fall head over heels in love with someone when they beg you a million times to watch their figure skating routine and point out any mistakes. Michael always said yes even though he knew nothing about figure skating. Anything Gavin did on the ice was flawless to him.
"Dating!? I’m dating you!?”
"Yes," he says, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of Gavin’s hand, "Calm down a little bit though, okay? I don’t want to get kicked out for getting you too excited."
Gavin begins trying to sit up, and fights back weakly against Michael’s hands on his shoulder that are pushing him back down. He doesn’t pay any attention to it other than that, and continues to be shocked at the news.
"We’re dating!?”
"Yes, but please be quiet, okay?" Michael practically pleads, trying to be as sweet as possible, "Especially about the dating thing. We’re in Russia and they don’t exactly take well to homosexual relationships here."
"We’re in Russia!?”
"Jesus fucking Christ, Gavin," he mutters, "Yes. We are dating. Yes. We are in Russia. Please, just lay down. The doctor said that you shouldn’t strain yourself."
His words seem to go unheard although Gavin does stop trying to sit up “Wow,” he breaths, staring up at the ceiling in amazement, “I’ve never been to Russia before. This is amazing. And I’m dating you. What’s your name again?”
He wants to laugh at his horrible memory when he’s like this. It’s just too cute for words. Gavin’s so amazed and dumbfounded by every piece of information given to him. “Michael Jones.”
"Wow. And what’s my name?"
"Gavin."
"Gavin Jones?"
"No, not yet. Working on it though," he snickers, thinking back on their ridiculous conversations.
How they’d lay in Michael’s bed, arms wrapped around each other. Making fun of both Gavin’s fear of commitment and his desire for a huge flamboyant wedding. It was discussed that they would have no serious talks about actually getting married until after they’d both succeed in getting a medal in the Olympics. It ended up being a great motivator for the two.
"What’s that?" Gavin points, very uncoordinatedly, at Michael’s gold medal, which he’s currently wearing around his neck.
"Oh, it’s my medal. It’s why I didn’t get here sooner. Olympic ceremonies take a while sometimes."
Gavin’s eyes widen, “Y-You’ve got a gold medal?! In the Olympics?! Holy crap. That’s insane. And I’m dating you? I’m dating someone who’s won a gold medal?”
"Yeah," he smiles, not wanting to ruin this by telling him to quiet down again because it’s just too adorable, "But do you wanna know something even cooler? You have a gold medal too."
Michael has to cover his mouth with his hand to contain his laughter. The look on Gavin’s face is too priceless and he wishes he had a video camera right now to film him.
"I do not!"
"Yeah, you do." He pulls the other medal from around his neck where it was with his, but hidden underneath his shirt. "Look."
Geoff had been given the medal while the paramedics were lifting Gavin onto the stretcher. After Michael had been made aware of the accident, he was given it for safe keeping. Covering it with his shirt made it closer to his heart, and made him feel a better connection to Gavin. He’d never admit that to anyone though, just because of how sappy and corny it sounds.
Gavin takes the medal slowly, almost dropping it in the process. His eyes dance over the thing, still drooping slightly but it’s obvious that he’s trying his hardest to focus on it.
"Wow. I have a gold medal."
"Yeah, you’ve earned it, buddy."
"I bet you’ve earned yours too though. I can’t believe it. Not only am I dating the world’s most beautiful man, but I won a gold medal in the Olympics," he beams proudly as though he’s gloating or rubbing it in Michael’s face.
Michael can’t stop himself from letting out a laugh at that, “Really? The most beautiful man? I cannot wait until you’re better again so I can make fun of you for that.”
"It’s true though. You are beautiful. Like… Like diamonds in the sky," Gavin says while yawning weakly.
"How poetic," he smiles.
He knows when Gavin wakes up he’s just going to be spewing out a million apologies for ruining his gold medal celebration. Which is why Michael knows he has to milk this for all that it’s worth. Just getting to bask in the feeling of Gavin being safe in front of him, no worries or fears, both of them gold medal Olympic champions.
And even though his boyfriend is in a hospital gown, head full of stitches and wrapped in bandages, while he’s practically drooling and unable to keep his eyes open, Michael has never been more in love with him in all his life.
"Am I allowed to sleep?"
"Yeah, of course," he murmurs, "Are you tired?"
"Kind of. And my heart hurts a bit."
"Understandable, you did nose dive onto solid ice. How you managed to get a gold medal in ice skating will never cease to amaze me.”
"Will you stay here with me while I sleep?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Yeah. I don’t want to wake up and find out you were a dream. Or find out that this medal is a dream."
"I’m starting to think you love that medal more than you love me."
"No way. The medal is top, but you are perfect,” he murmurs, relaxing fully against his pillows as his eyes slide completely shut.
Michael smiles, leaning over to press a kiss to his boy’s cheek.
"You’re pretty perfect too."