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He didn’t hope for much at this point.
A smile.
A look.
A thought.
Just a thought. One that wasn’t tainted with anger and hatred. One that didn’t make the younger’s thin blond brows furrow and his nose wrinkle and his mouth turn into a frown of disdain. He didn’t want to see those sparkling green-blue eyes shine with hatred when his name was brought up, when they laid upon him. He didn’t want to read yet another social network status expressing how much he despised him.
They say hate is better than nothing, because at least you matter for the person.
Jean-Jacques couldn’t tell as he experienced both. He spent countless hours scrolling through Yuri’s social networks, in the hope of any mention of his name. Waited for days. Only to finally be met with anger and disdain the rare time Yuri actually acknowledged him -most of the time prompted by someone else.
He didn’t ask for much at this point.
He wanted Yuri to look at him without hate.
Without disdain.
I want you to look at me like you look at Otabek.
He could say he hated the other man. He actually did, on some occasions. But at the end, he knew Otabek wasn’t to blame. He knew he didn’t really hate him. He was terribly jealous, envious of the luck the Kazakh had. Sure, they were “only” friends. But Jean-Jacques would give anything to have this privileged relationship with the one he loved since more than two years.
Two years.
Two years since curiosity and amusement merged into love. At first, it didn’t hurt. On the contrary, it felt awesome. Discovering your feelings for someone and accepting them, feeling your chest lift from all the love inside, as if it wasn’t able to hold it all and was going to explode. A new world of possibilities. Laughing and smiling in awe at every little thing they can do, cherishing any shared moment, celebrating any aspect of their being, feeling like they’re the only truth on earth.
No, at first, it didn’t hurt. Jean-Jacques embraced all of this. Yuri’s animosity toward him was cute, and after all, if he hated him so much, it meant Jean-Jacques mattered for him, right ? He was putting so much efforts into his routines just to beat him. Him. He was important for the younger, right ? And maybe all this hate was just here to hide how much he loved him ?
He indulged himself in the sweetest daydreams. He imagined countless ways that Yuri could confess to him. A blush during an interview, a sweet word unintentionally slipped between two insults, Otabek coming to him to talk about his friend’s feelings… And then he imagined how it would feel to hug Yuri, to bury his nose in his blond hair and smell its scent -maybe even kiss the top of his head ? He imagined how it would be to be allowed to call him “his boyfriend”, to scream to the world how much he loves him and how awesome he is. How it would be to run into the kiss and cry after an awesome performance and hug him and spin him around before kissing him. Kiss. How much he imagined themselves kiss. For the first time -Yuri would be so shy !- for the 100th time. Surprise kisses, quick kisses, long passionate kisses. He thought of the sex too, of how he would treat him like the most beautiful being on earth, how he would do anything to make him feel good and loved and cared for. He saw himself as the one who could make Yuri loved after his short life of hardships, the one who could bring joy on this constantly angry face.
But as time passed, reality settled in. He saw the smiles he only gave to Otabek. He saw the hate he threw at him, always the same, always violent. He saw Yuri leave the room if he happened to walk in. He found himself blocked from all of Yuri’s social networks, forcing him to make new anonymous ones to still be able to follow his updates. The bliss of the first times faded, and he was greeted by the harsh reality. Yuri didn’t love him. Yuri outright hated him. It hurt. It hurt so bad it felt like his heart was being snatched from his chest.
He thought of giving up. Of moving on and putting an end to these feelings. But “I never give up how high the mountain rises” right ? He painfully laughed at this line. Keep going ? For what ? More pain ? More of these moments where he’d see Yuri look at Otabek with this rare, precious smile ? Where he’d see Yuri affirm without batting an eye that he didn’t have any feelings for anyone at the moment ? It was useless, and he knew it.
But part of him felt revolted. No. It can work. It will work. He just doesn’t like him now. If he just waited a little more, just a little, then maybe his feelings would change ? They would be perfect for each other. Jean-Jacques would spoil him, support him, still pushing him to move forward and surpass himself by being his biggest competitor. And Yuri would be the same for him. His muse. His inspiration. His motivation. Their personalities would complete each other. Their talent would shine brighter if they were together. After all, they were the two top skaters of the young generation!
*Ding*
A notification.
“Tweet from @ Hisashi_Morooka
@yuri-plisetsky How do you feel about @Jjleroy!15 ‘s FS for this season’s GP ?”
The reply came two hours later.
“@Hisashi_Morooka I don’t give a fuck about this guy. With or without him, I’ll win this GPF.”
Oh, true… Yuri still hated him. He hated those moments , these sudden bursts of hope. They were always met with the harsh reality and hurt more than the calm acceptance of his fate. If he forced himself to smile at those demonstrations of animosity in public, he would cry out at night, alone in his apartment, face buried in the pillow -crying until it couldn’t hold the tears anymore. He would fall asleep, his mind wandering to imagine what it’d be like if Yuri was here. His body behind him, gently spooning him. His arms around his chest, around his neck. His hand in his hair, gently petting it. His voice -a murmur- gently telling him it was ok. That everything would be alright. That he was loved by the person he loved the most. That it was ok to cry. And somehow it hurt even more, and he only fell asleep hours later, when his body and mind were too exhausted from crying and yelling at the injustice, when he had no more tears to gave, when he felt like an empty shell -finally out of any emotions to feel.
It was exhausting.
The competitions didn’t feel the same now. Even today, as he’s watching the one he loves flying over the ice -spinning gracefully as he always did- he feels his chest fill again with all this pride, love. It doesn’t feel the same. Because he will have to bear a smile, to bury his feelings deep down to be “King JJ”, never affected by Yuri’s animosity. Delivering a perfect performance, full of energy and love; smiling at his fans, the cameras, the reporters, his competitors, Yuri . The more time passed, the more difficult it was, the more it hurt. And today, he doesn’t feel like it. Neither did he the day before. He showed himself unusually severe, rarely smiling. His performance was good, but it lacked his usual happiness, his punch. And he outright ignored Yuri. Which was hard to do, as he usually ached for the other boy’s presence, waiting. Again. His life was made of waiting since he started falling for Yuri. But he didn’t feel like waiting anymore. He didn’t feel like faking, and he didn’t feel like letting his feelings consume him. He was tired. So tired.
The sound of applause brings him back to reality. Yuri just finished his Free Skate, waving at the crowd as cat plushies and flowers were throw on the ice. He catches one plushie, skillfully avoiding a cat ears headband, and exits the ice. His score is high. As always. He didn’t expect less from his Russian Ice Tiger. He’s not yours. True. He looks away from the Kiss and Cry, focusing on the next skater. Otabek is preparing himself to execute his program. Focus on him. Forget Yuri. He hears a familiar sound of skates behind him, accompanied by the rough voice of Yakov and disinterested answers. Of course, Yuri would be here to watch his best friend skate. Ignore him . Focus on Otabek. Ignore that he matters more for him than you. That he’ll be closer to him than you’ll ever be. Focus.
“Hey, Leroy !”
He shivers. Both at the voice calling him and at the name -he hates being called by his last name. He slowly turns toward Yuri, with a tired expression.
“Yes, Plisetsky ?”
Yuri raises an eyebrow at the name. No “Yuri-chan” ? No “Chaton” ? That’s surprising, but not enough to alter his frown.
“What the fuck is this shit ? You better stop and get back into the game or it’s going to be insulting for all of us !”
Jean-Jacques doesn’t reply right away. Is he talking about his skating ? He did a good enough performance. Maybe not his best, but still good enough not to be worried about qualifying to the Finale. And good enough so others wouldn’t notice his lack of emotion and motivation. Especially not Yuri Plisestky. Is he referring to his attitude ? His tired, sad look ? He feels his heart race at the thought. Whether he is referring to his skating or his attitude, it means the same thing. Yuri observed him. Close enough to see something was wrong. No, calm down. Don’t hope, don’t get your hopes up over something like that. You probably just were really oblivious. You just suddenly stopped being goofy and stupid, so of course he would notice. Ignore those thoughts. Focus. Answer.
“I don’t see what you’re talking about. I got 98.96, good enough to beat you with my FS.”
He sees Yuri’s eyebrows furrow further, his nose wrinkling in annoyance. How can he be so pretty even when angry ?
“Don’t fuck with me Leroy. If you don’t give the best you got, I’ll make you regret it.”
Calm down. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t let your heart beat that fast or he will notice -can he notice ? Calm down. Focus. Answer.
“Ah ? I thought that with or without me you’ll win this Grand Prix Finale ?”
This time Yuri can’t hide his surprise. And at first Jean-Jacques doesn’t understand why. Until he realizes. Yuri blocked him from all his social networks. And he just quoted his tweet. He just basically admitted he’s been stalking his accounts anyway. He can feel his cheeks warming up from the embarrassment. And then he sees it.
What he wished for.
A look that is different. Not anger. Not hatred. It’s not quite the one he gives Otabek either. No, it’s rather a look of… curiosity ? Like he’s considering what Jean-Jacques just said. Like he’s pondering this new information. Which is surprising. Why isn’t he getting angry ? Yelling at him for being a creep ? Telling him he’s just stupid and to drop it ? Why is he looking at him with this intense expression all of a sudden ?
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t care.
Yuri is looking at him.
That’s all he wished for. The reason of it doesn’t matter. He just enjoys and cherishes it for the moment it lasts.
“You better stop fucking with me and give all that you have on the ice JJ” Jean-Jacques’ eyes widen at the familiar nickname “Or else I won’t forgive you.”
And with that, he leaves. Otabek’s performance is about to start, and Yuri wants to make sure to be in the best spot to watch it. As he looks at the Russian getting away, Jean-Jacques can feel this familiar sensation in his chest, inflating it with an outburst of joy. He doesn’t know what just happened. He replays the scene again and again in his mind, unsure about Yuri’s intentions. One thing is sure, though: the feeling taking over his whole body now.
Hope.
One he doesn’t feel like discarding right away. One that actually feels like it wouldn’t be disappointed. One he wants to trust in. The familiar feelings from the first time are swelling up in him again, and for the first time in months, his lips pull into a genuine, loving smile. He’s not sure where this is going, but he’ll do anything to please his Queen.
“Your words are my order” he whispers to himself “I’ll give my everything on the ice for you.”