darrus (darrus) wrote,

  • Music:


Завих ещё февральский.
Презжаем мимо.


: darrus
Pairing: Chris Mabee/Jeff Buttle
Rating: PG
Time: Canadian Nationals 2007 and some time before
Summary: friendship turning into... Chris Mabee's POV
Disclaimer: I don't know if it ever happened, ask them if you want to know.



Music is filling the rink, resounding off the walls, floating under the ceiling, horns and violins and drums, a whirlwind of sounds. Strange rhythm that doesn’t even seem to have rhythm at first, more a cacophony than actual music. Gets you dancing easier than any disco tune could.

Axel combo. Flip combo. Spin.

I’m leaning on the board instead of doing my own warm-up. Jeff is skating.

If funny looks Lee is throwing in my direction is any indication, I’m going to hear some unpleasant stuff from him. Not that I’m the only one here who is watching Jeffrey instead of going about their business, but what does my coach care, huh?

Lutz doubled, oh well. Happens.

Armenian music, yeah. Not that I know much about this Armenia, and where it is anyway – Europe? I’d bet Jeff looks nothing like people from there. Music suits him though.

That’s Jeff.

Ina Bauer – almost without an arch, he’s still favoring his back, and yesterday he was telling me that there is no pain… Liar. Salchow.



He takes his sweet time getting up, already way behind the music.

“Once more”, says Lee calmly.

As if Jeff was ready to do full run-throughs yet. These damned coaches always know better, right?

Jeff obediently turns around, picking up speed with a few strokes. The music is finished already, but he begins this section of program again.

Ina Bauer – or rather a hint of it. Salchow.

And one more fall.

“Once more”.

Jeff makes a face in my direction and I grimace back hoping that Barkell won’t notice. And even if he does, who cares anyway?

This time Jeff manages to hold on. Scrappy landing, but landing all the same.

“Once more”, Lee seems to have forgotten that other words exist.

Jeff sighs and starts crossovers again.

My music plays. Stop thinking about Buttle’s battle with jumps. Think about choreography.

At the corner of my eye I see the shadow flying past me – Jeff’s entrance to the double axel is astoundingly fast, the jump itself so huge, so high it seems it’s higher than the boards.

I merely skate. Jeff is flying.


He’s hiding his hands deep in his pockets and lifts the collar so high that half of his face is hidden by it.

“Cold, huh?”

“Brrrr”, he nods, shivering. “Damn winter”.

The sun is shining so brightly I have to blink all the time. Is he really cold?

“I hate falling”, says he absently and then adds as an afterthought: “Hurts quite a lot, too”.

This jump will drive him mad. If it didn’t already.

He’s quiet, walking beside me. Looks pretty subdued.

“Blame Ulrich Salchow for all the problems you have in life?”

He laughs. Really laughs. Than falls silent again.

I wish I was better in all this stuff like getting one to stop thinking about his problems. Would’ve come in pretty handy right now. Whatever Jeff’s troubles are.

He stops, looking straight at me.

“What will happen now?”

“Now? Now we’ll have a couple more days of training, then we’ll go to Nats and show them all how it is done”. And I’m not talking about myself there, for sure…

“And then?”

“And then we’ll go to Four Continents and show them all how it is done. And then we’ll go to Worlds and show them all how it is done…”

“And then?”

“And then…”, caught me here, alright. And then… “And then it’ll be the next season!”

We laugh. And laugh. Jeff wipes the tears off his face, then looks at me… And starts laughing again.

Now that is my Jeff.

He should always be laughing.


He shakes his head and laughs again.

At me?


“Once more”.

Lee is ruthless.

Jeff looks like he’s in pain already, but stands up again to try for the next time.

What does our coach want, to kill him before the competition even starts?

I should be thinking about my own program.

I should be thinking about my own program.

I should be thinking about my own program.

Damn, this was a really, really nasty fall.

Good for them to be laughing at me sitting on my a** at the center of the rink.

Lee looks at me as if I suddenly turned into some very interesting insect, while Jeff, still smiling, reaches out with his hand to help me stand up.

I am much more clumsy than I always thought. Instead of standing up I manage to tip him over, so he lands on top of me with a surprised yelp. Well, at least I am softer than the ice.

There is laughter from the stands and applause. Jeff is shooting at me angry looks, trying his best not to burst into laughter.

And I don’t even mind that the ice is cold.

How we’ve managed to stand up finally – I don’t know. We’ve fallen two more times in the process. I wasn’t doing anything on purpose, I swear.

“Out, both of you”, Lee has had enough of us for today, but if I’m not completely mistaken he’s not really angry.

And I liked feeling Jeff so close to me.


What am I thinking?!


Hot black tea. All I needed after this runaround Lee gave me was a big mug of hot black tea. Life is perfect.

Jeff is chewing at his apple absently.

“Where did you lose your axel?”

He’s the fine one to ask this, I’d say.

“The same place where you are hiding your quad”.

I grab his iPod. The music in the headphones is more than familiar – these horns and drums I’ve heard so many times, I could’ve skated the program myself – if only I was able to fly like he does.

“Chris, if you don’t make a team this year, I… I…”


“I’ll tell Mira Leung that you fancy her!”

Oh oh, how scary.

“No, I’ll tell her mother that you fancy Mira and give her your number!”

“And Mira is kind of pretty, come to think of it…” This bewildered expression on his face is priceless.

“I… I won’t talk to you till next Nationals!”

“The whole year without your bad jokes? Do you think six falls will be enough, or should I make it seven?”

“Chris!” He grabs a candy from the plate and throws it at me.

“Ok, ok, got it, I should make a team this year”.

And the candy is very tasty. He should have eaten it himself.


Violins and horns, horns and violins, and they call it music? Cacophony, I've said it already. No, honestly, no way I would have listened to something like that if it wasn’t Jeff’s program.

Lee is looking at me a bit angrily. Yes, I know I should be tracing this pattern on ice, but I’d much rather watch my training partner skate.

All right, all right, the coach always knows better.

Gliding back and forth, trying to change edges as smoothly as possible, I do my best to concentrate on task at hand. After all, I’ll see this program in two days skated to the best of Jeff’s abilities.

And with the costume.


The costume.

Goes with the music, I guess.

Only Jeff can look good in *that* thing.


He sighs, lifting his head to look at the street lamp right above his head.

“Strange scoring system it is”.

“Not that strange if you’re good at math, I suppose”, whatever the system, life is good as long as we’re one-two in the protocols.

He sighs again and starts walking.

“No, just think – a program with a fall above a clean one, how can it be, and in the short when the element is missing, no, it’s just… The jump is missing and still first with a huge lead. Unthinkable!”

“Chill out, pal. Stranger things happen, what does it…”

“You should be in first”.


Oh well…

Jeff sometimes has these strange ideas going through his head.

Does he really think that it matters if he missed that axel? Fall or no fall, he still should be first above me.

After all, I merely skate – and Jeff is flying.

I punch him lightly in the shoulder – nothing forceful, of course, just a play. To break him out of this mood.

“Relax. Who cares about placements, it’s a points game now”.

“Right”, he nods.

And what should I do with him?

“I don’t mind. Honestly”.

He nods again. “Thanks”.

No way.

Is he really so upset just because he thinks I was treated unfairly? He’d better be worried about his axel.

He looks at me. “You really should be in first”.

Good of him to be so concerned over me, but I really, really don’t like it one bit that he takes it so close to his heart.

“It’s not fair”, adds he.

Damn, he looks so desperate that I want to give him a hug.

Or maybe…

Without thought I lean closer and touch his lips with mine. Just a quick touch. Just so we both will still be able to think that nothing has happened.

Though I… Oh well. Whatever he does, I will still prefer to think that it happened.


What am I thinking?!

Jeff is looking at me with huge eyes, as if trying to decide if a… kiss, well, it was a kiss, right? If a kiss really happened.

He turns his head, looking around, and then just as quickly brushes his lips over mine.

And smiles

I punch him again.

He punches me back.

We’re laughing.


The sound of horns is filling the rink, the crowd is huge and loud. Instead of getting ready to skate, going over the choreo in my head or whatever it is I should be doing, I’m leaning at the wall at the skater’s entrance, looking at the ice.

Strange music.

Odd costume.

I can’t tear my eyes off the rink.

Jeff is flying.




Tags: figure skating, slash
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