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There was something incredibly lonely about being at the top.
It felt like no one saw him on equal standing. He was competition at the end of it all, surrounded by expectations that he had little choice but to meet. Ivan used to try to find peace in the fact that at least it meant that no one was looking down at him, but that feeling left him quite some time ago.
If people looked down on him, he at least would have something to strive for. He could work harder, put more hours into practice. There were options for growth that would feel attainable. But when he was in the position of being the one looking down on everyone else around him, where else was he supposed to go?
There was no way up.
He doesn't remember when the ice began to feel less like home, and more like a prison. Skating was all he had, but with his passion long gone, who was he?
What was left of him after skating?
Ivan was scared of the answer.
That was until he found him. The man who, albeit very awkwardly, took his hand and brought that passion back to him. Who, over the course of the last year, taught him all the things he'd forgotten about himself.
"Fuck, it's cold," The guy standing in front of him in line murmured.
It was the fifth time this guy had complained in the last ten minutes. At first, Ivan just raised an eyebrow at how shamelessly he was cursing in public. But now, it was somewhere between annoying and amusing.
Ivan had been coming to this coffee shop every morning since it opened. It was close to the rink, and he was convinced they were sneaking drugs into their espresso from how their coffee had him making the trip even on his rest days.
Recently though, the place had become much more popular. Something something influencer posted a food review, how these things usually seem to go. The line's to order frequently taking up to five minutes in the mornings, but Ivan wasn't exactly on a time crunch so he didn't mind the wait.
Somehow, he's found himself behind another athlete this morning. There wasn't anything else this guy could be. From his gym shorts and well-worn sneakers, and the obnoxious duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. Takes one to know one.
The other sunk his chin below the collar of his jacket, squeezing his sides as if that would somehow keep him warm, "It's already March, what is wrong with the weather?"
Ivan nearly opened his mouth to comment, but his opportunity was taken as the barista called for his order, "What can I get for you?"
"Americano with a shot of hazelnut, please," the other replied, and Ivan was honestly a little surprised at how polite he was considering his cursing moments before.
Before Ivan really knew what he was doing, he was muttering an "Excuse me," as he raced to put his card into the chip reader before the man in front of him had a chance to get his out of his wallet.
The barista turned to Ivan and gave him a small smile, "Another iced mocha today?"
Ivan returned her polite smile and nodded, "Yes, thank you."
"Dude? What the-" The other scoffed, and whipped his head around to look at Ivan while he tapped in a tip amount on the screen.
There was a moment of silence between them, and Ivan wondered what caused the other to stop what felt like mid-sentence as he retrieved his card.
When Ivan finally turned to him, given his initial reaction, he expected him to look more annoyed than anything. Though, someone buying your morning coffee is something to be grateful for, Ivan hadn't exactly planned on doing it in the first place and neither was he expecting a 'thank you'.
But what meet him was a blush so deep it looked like he might start sweating despite his complaints of being cold.
Ivan paused as he tried to process the mans reaction, and found something about the sharp teal of the others eyes drawing him in.
He felt like he could drown in them and be perfectly fine with that.
"We should move out of the way," He muttered mindlessly, hesitantly breaking eye contact and stepping to the other side of the pick up counter.
The other followed him, and Ivan felt a little awkward about the way he stared.
"Sorry, was buying your coffee too much? You just seem like you're having a rough day," Ivan lightheartedly apologized.
Honestly, why did he buy his coffee? Because he found him entertaining?
"What?" The guy shot out, blinking like he wasn't even aware he was staring and quickly turned to the floor, "No, actually thank you for that. Sorry for staring, I just-"
Ivan hummed, tilting his head as he encouraged him to continue.
The other sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and Ivan almost wanted to laugh. He was stranger than he thought.
"I'm a really big fan," he blurt, and Ivan froze.
What?
He was… his fan?
Ivan knew he had plenty of female fans, and he appreciated each one of them, but he had no idea that he had any male fans.
Especially not any this prickly.
Ivan found himself turning away, a similar blush crawling onto his cheeks, "Oh… thank you."
The two of them stood in silence for a little while longer, and Ivan turned to glance at the other once more when he heard more mumbling from his direction.
"What was that?" Ivan inquired, leaning back in.
"Uhm-" The other started, his eyes darting from the floor, the counter, and Ivan's face. It was kind of fun to watch.
"Could I…have your number?"
Ivan blinked, it was just one surprise after another with this guy.
"My number?" Ivan echoed.
The others face flushed darker, as impossible as that may have seemed, and he began to babble, "Yeah. Your number. You can say no, like honestly please say no. I just thought- I've always thought you were so pretty and cool, I guess you could say like, a celebrity crush. I don't know. I'll probably never meet you again, and you know what they say, you miss all the shots you don't take. Shit, I'm sorry, that probably just made you extremely uncomfortable-"
"Pfft-" the laugh escaped Ivan's lips before he had a chance to swallow it.
The other's apologies died in his throat, and he stared at Ivan in shock. Ivan covered his mouth in attempt to muffle the sound while he pulled out his phone with his other hand.
"Sure, why not," Ivan shrugged, unlocking his phone and handing it over, "I don't see any problem with that."
Ivan nearly started laughing again as his mouth dropped open, and he shyly took Ivan's phone. His hands noticeably shook as he punched in his number, and he held Ivan's phone like it was made of glass.
He really was entertaining.
Ivan grinned as he took his phone back and read off the name that had been typed as the contact, "Till?"
"Yeah.."
"That's a nice name," Ivan complimented, sending a quick text to the number.
It wasn't a moment later that their orders were called out, and Till rushed to the counter to grab them both. Ivan hesitantly took his cup from him, and a wave of something he hadn't felt before washed over him as their hands brushed.
Words were lost to him as they both left the coffee shop, and before Ivan had the chance to walk away, Till called out to him.
"I'll text you!"
Ivan turned back to him and smiled, "I hope to see you again soon."
"What are you thinking about?"
Ivan blinked his way out of his thoughts, and smiled down at the man kneeling in front of him, currently tying his skates.
"Just how happy I am to have met you," Ivan replied softly.
Till's face grew red at that, just like how they did in the coffee shop the day they met. It was kind of funny, how Ivan was still able to pull these expressions out of his lover even though they'd been together for almost a year now.
Till still made his way to each practice session he was able. Ivan really hadn't expected he'd keep coming after the first one he came to watch, but Till said it was something about the beauty of watching Ivan perfect his craft. Something about how intimate it felt, to see a side of Ivan he didn't let anyone else see, his coach aside.
"Really?" Till wondered, bringing one of Ivan's feet to his lips and pressing a kiss to the toe of his skate, "If anything I'm the lucky one."
Ivan scrunched in feigned disgusted and teased, "That's so unsanitary."
Till's mouth parted slightly in shock and he stared up at Ivan for a moment before protesting, "I was trying to be sweet."
Ivan let out a quiet laugh, "I'll admit that it was."
"You're still going to kiss me, right?" Till asked, placing Ivan's foot down gently.
Ivan thought about it for a moment before standing up from the bench he waited on, before smiling slyly and starting towards to ice, "No."
"You're lying," Till shot out, rushing to his feet.
Ivan laughed a little louder this time, rushing his way to the edge of the ice, pushing himself the ledge and letting his skates carry him away. He watched the endearing image of Till gawking at him in disbelief as he gripped the wall on the edge of the rink.
"Brush your teeth first and I'll think about it!"