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"Gustave, Gustave! What do you say to your worst critics that there is no life, no passion to your skating?"
Gustave laughed, his head falling back. "I would say that passion is a vital and important part of figure skating, but just as much as that is execution and precision. I went in with a design, a plan, and came out victorious!" He held up the medal with a grin. "Engineered myself a victory!"
Verso hit the power button on the television, standing in the middle of the room, his hands clenched into fists. "Engineered myself a victory," he mocked, snarling. "I hate him!"
"You could learn something from him," Renoir pointed out. "He has not only optimized a routine he knows he can do, he has-"
"I know what he's done!" Verso snarled.
Renoir adjusted his hole on his cane and looked at his son. "You know that he is working on the Quadruple Axel. Look at how many quads he landed in that particular long program alone. The Quad Toe Loop in particular-"
"I know," Verso repeated, his voice trembling. "I heard it. Practically perfect, they all said it."
"They all meant it," Renoir continued. "Which is the far more dangerous thing for both you and us. You will beat him at the National Championship. No matter how much work you need to put in to do it, you will defeat him."
Verso sank into the chair as his father stormed out of the room and covered his face with his hands. As angry as he was with himself for falling out of a jump that he had landed hundreds of times, and as much as he had barely been able to keep it together skating a routine that felt like it was made for another person, not for himself, his father was right. He needed to beat Gustave at Nationals, or he was going to end up forgoing his chance for redemption at the Olympics, and he could already hear the critics now. Verso Dessendre, the once-golden boy who had fallen so far, had not been able to keep up with the turn Figure Skating had taken, while rising Star Gustave Écrivain became the new darling of them all.
Even his nickname - the Engineer, suited the way that he built his routines for not only optimal scores, but for audience engagement, and his own skillset. Every factor was considered, like he was balancing an equation. He'd heard the interview, everyone had heard the interview, and though there were some that had hated that level of detachment, looking at the scores today where Gustave had beat him by nearly ten points, he could not deny the effectiveness. Where Verso might have once held the edge in artistry, by virtue of his experience, that was rapidly melting away as Gustave gained more confidence in his skills and his jumps.
Verso rubbed his face again and took a deep, shaky breath, fighting down the tears that wanted to escape. Even if it was all orchestrated to account for every proper variable, even if that was the case, he still had to make the jumps, had to do the routine, and had to get the crowd engaged and cheering with him. And Gustave Écrivain could not only do that, he could do it better than Verso had ever be able to. He snarled again and jumped up, throwing his chair behind him as he stalked back to the locker room, ready to be gone from Japan, and back at home, training, losing himself in the chill of the ice so he didn't have to think about anything else.
~!~
"Shhhh, shhh, Gustave is going to hear you."
"Supposedly Gustave reached out and offered to let him train here!"
"Aren't they rivals? Why would he do that?"
"It's Gustave, do you think he needs any other reason?"
Gustave sighed, loudly, and pointedly. "I can hear you," he called out, and watched as both young girls went immediately scurrying down the hallway, shooting him glances, and he fought down a smile, shaking his head. A glance down at his calendar showed exactly what they had been talking about. A promised in-person meeting with Verso Dessendre, who had announced that he and his coach - his father, were separating, and he would be competing in Nationals unregistered to any other coach. Gustave tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk, itching to be out on the ice, practicing, even though he had another hour before his rink time, so Emma and her class of lovable hooligans and gossips could get their exercise and stretches in.
A knock on the open door made him look up and Gustave's breath caught at the sight of a clearly exhausted Verso Dessendre, holding a skating bag against his side like it was a shield. "Come on in and shut the door," he said, gesturing to the door behind Verso. "This way we're not interrupted. Though, I can't promise that you won't be noticed. Least a dozen of the girls and all of the boys here are major fans of yours."
Verso snorted. "Not fans of yours? Somehow I doubt that."
"I think the shine wears off after they see me crash to the ice for the thirtieth time in a single day," Gustave said, giving Verso another smile and gesturing to the seats in front of him, waiting for Verso to settle in. "So, would you like me to tell you that I know everything and get straight to offering you practice time here, as long as we work around my current schedule?"
Verso blinked.
"Or would you like to explain the entire sordid story, deal with the anguish wondering why I would ever help a rival, and then find yourself surprised when I do exactly that?" Gustave asked, his smile widening as he watched the man simply stare at him.
Verso frowned. "You cannot know everything."
"I know enough," Gustave countered. "I got the rest from my sister." He shrugged. "I know your father has kept you stifled and pushed to only do what the Olympic committee considers best, rather than what you want to do as a skater. I know he hand picked your music selections, I know that he had instructors design your routines for you, and that your diet, schedule, schooling, and life has been under his full control since you were approximately six years old." He smiled faintly. "I know that you told him in no uncertain words to go to hell when you nearly injured yourself doing a Quad Toe Loop during practice, and walked out with no intention of going back, and have filed to compete as a solo skater in Nationals and the Olympic Trials."
"Right," Verso swallowed weakly. He hadn't realized just how much of that was public knowledge and he stared down at the desk. "So why are you helping me?"
Gustave stood up, got both he and Verso cups of water and went to go sit in the seat next to Verso, rather than behind the desk, saluting him with it before he took a sip. "Because no matter how much the world tries to say we're rivals who hate each other, that's never been true for me. Not for one minute. I always wanted to be your friend, but your father ordered me to stay away from you and..." he paused, looking at the surprised expression on Verso's face. "And you had no idea he told me to stay away from you."
Verso shook his head. "No, I thought. Well." He cleared his throat. "I haven't been particularly complimentary of you. Even though you are a brilliant technical skater."
Gustave's lips twitched. "I seem to remember you saying I wouldn't know what a Biellmann was, let alone be flexible enough to attempt one." He started to grin. "And that was after you said I was so stiff it was as though I skated with a pole up my ass."
Verso let out a frustrated sigh. "I have not... been at my best."
"I can tell," Gustave said, scooting closer and reaching out to give Verso's arm a squeeze. "So let me help. Emma and I own this rink. My sister runs it, actually, and I'm just the face of it. We're happy to offer you a job if you want to teach some of our younger student classes to free the both of us up, and we're happy to sponsor you at both Nationals and Trials if you want."
Verso stared at Gustave, his heart soaring at the simple, direct reassurances. "Why?"
Gustave shrugged. "Well, I never liked your father, and since it seems that he is as much of a cunt as I always figured, seems the perfect way to stick it to him." He stood up and walked back over to his desk. "Do you have local lodgings, or do you want to move into the dorm?" His nose wrinkled. "No bringing anyone home if you do, I know you're more than old enough, but we do have teenagers sharing the communal areas and don't need to give them any more ideas than they already have."
Verso let out a chuckle. "While I'm training, the dorm is a good idea. And I'm more than happy to acquire a hotel for a night if I need anything. Do you have support staff?"
"Yes," Gustave said, pulling up the calendar. "It will take a little shuffling, but we should be able to fit you in without any issue. I suspect we're going to get a lot of inquiries in the near future if we do put you on our teaching staff, but we'll handle that when it happens." He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. "Have you thought about what happens after you retire from figure skating?"
Verso stiffened and cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I, I hadn't."
"Well, we're happy to work with you on that, too. Especially if you're going to be teaching here. Emma and I have been talking about buying that building next door and expanding, but there's no way we can do it between the two of us," Gustave said, tossing some of his curls out of his face. "But first thing's first, let's go over your current training schedule, what you want to do and then we'll figure out the rest."
Verso swallowed and turned his attention to the schedule. The fleeting picture of a future that he'd never considered here in the outskirts of Boston, having lived in the midwest his entire life, where they could buy an expansion to the excellent facilities the Écrivain twins already maintained... It was so easy. Gustave made it seem so easy.
It couldn't... couldn't be that easy, could it?
~!~
Over the course of the next two months in the lead up to Nationals, Gustave Écrivain indeed went on to prove to him that it was, exactly, that easy.
Verso adjusted the bag on his shoulder and sipped his protein shake as he squinted at the already-bright lights of the rink and frowned at them. He was supposed to have been the first one in, considering it was five in the morning, but someone had clearly been here, and been here for a while, since there was no starting hum of the lights as they got up to full power that he was used to. The sound of skating drew his attention and Verso wandered toward the rink, leaving his bag against one of the benches and watched as Gustave rushed by the boards, coming within inches before he turned and launched himself into a Quad - the Toe Loop, landing it flawlessly before taking one step and throwing himself into a triple. He landed it, but this time with a wobble and Verso huffed as Gustave slid to a stop, panting and cursing quietly to himself.
Based on the sweat that Gustave had worked up, it was clear that he'd been there for a while. Verso got his skates laced up and on before he stepped onto the ice as well, drawing Gustave's attention.
"Putain, it's five am already?" Gustave checked his watch and cursed. "I can go level the ice for you, Verso, I know you prefer it fresh. Merde, I lost track of time." He pushed his fingers through his curls and headed for the rink exit.
"How long have you been here?" Verso looked around the rink. It looked worn, and Gustave looked tired. More tired than usual. "What's wrong?"
Gustave skated a circle around Verso and turned to face him, shrugging. "I couldn't sleep. Came out here around midnight, hoping to wear myself out. Clearly that didn't work like I planned."
Verso skated closer and stopped just in front of Gustave, who was refusing to meet his eyes. There was guilt there, and worry, and a hundred things he was all too familiar with. Which could mean only one thing. "What is he trying to do?"
"Nothing that Emma and I can't handle," Gustave said, holding up his hands. "Nothing that we didn't expect. But it is causing some concern in some circles, so we need to address it."
"Tell me what's going on," Verso demanded. "What is he trying to do?"
Gustave swallowed and took another deep breath. "He's trying to get our teaching licenses and safety certificates revoked, saying that we bought off the regulators, using my accident as proof." He gestured to the prosthetic. "It's not the first time someone has raised the concern, but-"
"He has the money and influence to make it far worse than a random accusation from a parent," Verso finished, biting down a groan, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.
"Don't worry. Lune and her firm are engaged, they are very aware of what is going on, and why it is happening, and they will handle it," Gustave promised. "We haven't done anything wrong, Verso, and neither Emma or I have anything to hide. They can turn over every single stone related to the rink and our business and the only thing they will find is that I am a workaholic who skated for too long and permanently injured himself instead of dealing with heartbreak in a normal fashion. That's it. There's no skeleton in the closet."
Verso swallowed and clenched his hands into fists. "This is because of me."
Gustave skated closer and reached out to take Verso's hands in his, holding them between him. "So what if it is? I agree with you, this is likely precisely why. He can't attack you any longer, because we are protecting you, and now he is coming after us. We expected it, and we will handle it. You have our word on that. You have to focus on Nationals."
Verso narrowed his eyes. "And what about you?"
Gustave shrugged. "I will do what I can, like I always do. If it's enough, I'll be thrilled, but if it isn't, that's all right too. I've done better than I could have ever imagined." He reached out and gave Verso's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to go pass out on my couch for a few hours before everyone else comes in. If you need the rink leveled, come talk to me."
Verso watched him go and did a handful of warm up laps around the rink before he was certain that Gustave had made it up to his office and skated to the rink exit and grabbed his phone, pulling up Emma's number.
Verso: I will not have Gustave give up his dream of Nationals, or the Olympics. How can I help with my father?
Emma: About time you woke up, loverboy. I'll fill you in after practice today. We're going to need your help.
Verso sent her back an affirmative, looked up toward Gustave's office and watched the light flick off, tightening his hand into a fist around his phone. He took a deep breath and sent out another two texts, because he was not going to let whatever his father was planning stop what Gustave and Emma were building together. He was not. No matter what his father attempted to do.
~!~
Two months, half a dozen meetings with lawyers, and then a few more lawyers, and multiple orders of protection filed, and a whole new routine that felt much more like him, Verso piled into a van with Gustave and Emma, both of them laughing with how excited they were as they at last were on the way down to Nationals. He'd always been flown to competition, so the novelty of driving (even if it wasn't a terrible amount of driving, something they would easily split between them in a single day), and spending the time with the two siblings was one he was looking forward to. Especially when he found out junk food was a requirement.
Verso laughed as they got underway with Gustave and Emma bickering in the front seat and held up his phone, snapping a few seconds of video as they got onto the road and their journey began, before he uploaded the video to social media and tagged them both. (It prompted outraged shouting from both of them, and he knew that they would get him back later, but it was worth it to continue their plan of making sure that the focus stayed on the three of them, how they were friends, how they were working together, and how there was nothing for them to hide, or that was wrong behind the scenes.)
It had been a boring plan, to counteract what his father had attempted, in the end. Continue on as they were, but add small glimpses for the public into what they were doing and how they did it. It meant that Verso posted clips of his routines (and a compilation video of Gustave swearing as he dropped out of jump after jump - a video that had gone viral and still circulated more than it should), and Gustave posted videos of him landing on his ass, repeatedly, after attempting and failing a full Biellmann. It was fun, in a way that figure skating hadn't been for a long time - even if Emma had taken to sending videos of the two of them doing their warm ups together, when they would skate around the rink faster and faster, seeing how close they could come to colliding without ever actually doing it.
Some people called it fighting. Some people called it flirting. The people who got it right were the ones who called it exhilarating. Every single brush of clothing where they came almost too close, the brief snags of their eyes on each other as they went around again and again, until eventually they were exhausted, or they crashed together, laughing and loving each moment.
Those, though. Where they were tangled together, laughing so hard it hurt to breathe, tangled up, groaning as they tried to get back on their feet on the ice, those moments certainly felt like flirting and felt like more. Like tension ready to snap. But Verso knew they couldn't afford that, not yet. Not while things were still... messy. But the temptation was there, and every single time it happened, it seemed like there were less and less reasons for them to say no, and more reasons that he wanted to give in and say yes. Wanted to know if Gustave's lips were as soft as they looked, wanted to massage his shoulders when his prosthetic was heavy and bothering him.
Laughing with Gustave and Emma made the trip to the National rink go quickly, and so did checking in to their hotels, and the event. The three of them were inseparable, it felt like, right up until Emma abandoned them to go hang out with Sophie, someone who Gustave had dated in the past. He blinked as the two women linked arms and marched off and into the city together and turned back to Gustave, smiling at him. "Looks like we've been abandoned."
"I think you mean we've been left, quite wrongly, on our own," Gustave corrected, reaching out to tangle their fingers together, before he started to pull Verso in the opposite direction of the girls. "Come on!"
Verso probably should have asked where they were going, and what they were going to get up to, but after six months of living in close proximity to Gustave, he had learned to go with it, and not worry about things he couldn't control. Tomorrow, he and Gustave would be competing against each other for a medal for Nationals, and to be considered in the Olympic conversation, but right now, all he could think about was the way that Gustave's eyes shined in the sun, and how his curls looked so soft he wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into them.
~!~
Where before, Verso would have been waiting and prepping with the rest of the competitors, now he watched Gustave settle in for his free skate side by side with Emma, both of them hushed as the lights flared as Gustave's song started. Gustave had been teasing about whether or not he would be trying to throw the Quad Axel, but Verso knew he was going to do it. He'd managed to land it in practice, and had been focused on it all week, and now all that remained was for him to land it during the routine. After the short program, they were neck and neck, but Verso had been in the lead by a little over a point thanks to a supposed under-rotation on one of Gustave's quads.
Gustave flew by them as the music started to pick up speed and Verso grabbed for Emma's hand, ignoring her slightly surprised laugh as Gustave dug his skate in and launched himself. The Quad Toe Loop was flawless and the crowd cheered, even as Gustave landed and began to immediately build into a second jump. A twirl, a flip of curls, and a slight shift in position, the entire stadium held their breath.
Verso couldn't look away from the small smile on Gustave's face. "Three," he whispered, watching Gustave make the final turn, his speed good. "Two." He clenched Emma's hand tight. "One, go!" he hissed under his breath, watching as Gustave's face twisted and he met the jump face on, spinning tightly before he landed, dipping low, his other leg swinging out from behind him as the entire stadium erupted.
"He did it, he did it!"
Verso was shouting along with Emma, both of them jumping up and down as Gustave added a punch to the music that had not been there before, making Verso laugh. The rest of Gustave's routine was a blur, but all of it was beautiful, the audience on their feet before he finished his last rotations, and Verso burst out laughing when Gustave, with a twist of effort on his face, pulled himself up and into a full Biellmann, cackling wildly. "That asshole!"
Emma laughed and watched her brother drop to his knees, his hand pointed to the air, his chest heaving, before he fell back on the ice, watching it immediately get pelted with stuffed animals.
"I can't beat that," Verso said with a laugh, shaking his head, watching as Gustave started to skate toward them, a victorious smile on his face.
"Does it matter?" Emma asked softly, watching her brother only have eyes for Verso.
Verso shook his head and was the first one to wrap his arms around Gustave, hugging him tight and swinging him around once in a victorious circle before he released the man to Emma and went to go take his spot on the ice. Verso skated a slow circle around the rink, adjusting the pieces of his costume that he could already hear the murmuring over. The yellow jacket was the biggest giveaway, but so were the leather and belts along with the marks on his chest that were etched into the mesh of his shirt, making them look like tattoos. There was a steadily growing wave of sound coming across the arena and Verso turned and looked over to the Kiss and Cry, and watched Gustave's face as he got the highest score of a free skate that season!
Ignoring the signal from the cameraman, Verso quickly skated over the Kiss and Cry and held his fist out for a bump from Gustave, grinning at him, before he turned and got into position, breathing deeply. Everyone might have been expecting the routine that he'd used at the last competition, but he'd spent months reworking a new one and now was time to show it off.
The first few notes got the crowd screaming, and Verso grinned, despite himself.
'Ugh, you came at a bad time, but you just crossed the line. You wanna get wild? Okay, I'll show you wild!'
Verso laughed as the crowd was on their feet, singing along as he pushed himself into his first jump, landing the triple triple flawlessly, dancing to the music as he skated across the ice, unable to keep the smile off his face. It was the routine that Gustave had had to coax him into doing, that he had spent months working through, reworking, redesigning, redoing the choreography, all of it. He had never been so exhausted in his life, but every time the music started and he felt that excitement wash over him, it was all worth it.
After his third Quad, this time a Lutz, Verso decided that the best thing he could do was change one of his jumping passes. He wasn't going to beat Gustave, there was no way that he could, so he could have fun with something he'd been working on, but hadn't wanted to put into his program yet. Maybe he was wrong and he could land it.
Verso nearly tripped during his footwork sequence during the rapping, laughing as he managed to pull it together, sliding across the ice on his knees and then his back, before he was up and skating into the next jumping pass. Second to last, and he landed the Quad Flip with a small bobble, but that was fine, now he needed to prepare for what he was about to do, that Gustave would call him crazy for.
It wasn't for the points.
It wasn't to stick it to his father.
It wasn't because he'd planned it.
It was because he damn well wanted to, and that was the best reason to have.
'Hear our voice unwavering!'
Verso breathed in deep and turned himself.
'Til our song defeats the night, Makin' fear afraid to breathe'
He took the turn around end of the rink hard, driving deep, picking up as much as speed as he could, flipping himself around, taking one more breath.
'Til the dark meets the light!'
Verso leapt at the start of the final word, swinging his legs up and over his head, finding the ice beneath him a moment later with a single foot before he launched into the final foot sequence and series of spins, spinning and twisting as he laughed, giving himself entirely over to the music as it carried him, faster and faster, until he planted his foot and just like Gustave, threw his hand up in the air.
The crowd erupted and Verso dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands, breathing roughly, his chest heaving. He'd done it. He'd done it, and it had felt like him for the first time in years, and that meant everything. It was everything. Verso shook himself as he slowly stood up and saluted the crowd, grinning back at all of them, picking up one of the small stuffed animals as he made his way over to the Kiss and Cry. Emma and Gustave were waiting for him, both grinning, and Verso let himself be swept up in a tight hug from them.
They'd talked, repeatedly, about Emma being the one to sit with him, hang the fucking rules, but when Verso got nudged in that direction, he reached for Gustave's hand and didn't let go, meeting his eyes. Verso swallowed and clenched his eyes shut when Gustave squeezed his hand back and after he'd put his guards on, they made their way to the Kiss and Cry together. He and Gustave didn't let go of each other's hands and Verso turned and pressed his forehead to Gustave's costume.
"How do you feel?" Gustave asked, breathing the words into Verso's hair, so the camera wouldn't catch them.
"Victorious," Verso breathed back, holding onto Gustave tighter. "Doesn't matter what the score is." And for the first time in his entire life, it didn't matter. He'd put everything out on the line. Every single thing he could have done, every single part of him, he'd left out on the ice, and based on the roar of the crowd it had been enough.
"Good," Gustave whispered. "I'm proud of you."
Verso clenched his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears, even as the crowd started to scream. He didn't want to look, he didn't want to see it, it didn't matter. Not really.
"Verso," Gustave whispered. "Look."
Verso glanced at the scores and his eyes widened at the flashing 'personal best' next to the score, and though it hadn't been enough to beat Gustave, they were still closer than he would have thought without a Quad Axel and he grinned, wrapping his arms around Gustave in a tight hug. That 'personal best' meant everything, and Verso let a few tears leak out of him and into the fabric of Gustave's costume, clinging to him before he pulled back, met Gustave's eyes and grinned.
It was the Kiss and Cry after all.
Verso tugged Gustave in, kissing him with everything that had been building the past six months. A thank you, I love you, I want you, I need you, please never let go, all wrapped up in one as they kissed desperately before parting to press their foreheads together, laughing weakly.
"That's one way to make sure you make the news cycle," Emma said, leaning against the edge of the kiss and cry, laughing at the guilty look on both of their faces and the absolute roar of the crowd behind them. "Come on, time for you two to face the reporter music if you're going to drop that before the medal ceremony!"
Gustave gestured to the cameras surrounding them and in less than a minute, he and Verso were as alone as they would be able to get and he turned back to him and raised his eyebrows. "Heat of the moment?" he offered.
Verso reached out and took Gustave's hand, squeezing it. "Heat of the moment will be kissing you after we both make the podium in the Olympics," he challenged, starting to grin. "That? That was just for us."
Gustave grinned and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Verso's waist. "Better get to work on that sloppy backflip, then."
Verso pulled back, outraged. "Sloppy?!"
Gustave laughed, winking at Verso, tugging on him as he led the way toward the interviews that were waiting for them. "Sloppy," he agreed.
"I'll show you sloppy," Verso muttered, stalking after him.