Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance

by Keira Andrews

  He couldn’t avoid his partner, and he smiled in what he hoped was a low-key, completely normal way. His mouth felt raw. Jesus, do I have beard burn? Bailey’s brows knitted together, and she reached up and straightened his hair. Shit. His hair.

  Everyone knows! It’s flashing all over me in neon letters. Neon and all caps!

  Breathing deeply, he struggled to unscrew the cap from the bottle of water placed on the table in front of him. It took two tries, but he got it, and gulped. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it.

  “Everything okay?” Bailey murmured.

  He nodded.

  Under the table, she squeezed his thigh. “We’re almost there. Just think—tomorrow we leave Kyoto and get to sleep in our own beds again. At least for a few weeks.”

  With a rush of affection, he took her hand. If there was one thing he could count on, it was having Bailey beside him. He exhaled and concentrated on her familiar warmth.

  Mikhail entered the room, head high and shoulders back, his hair artfully swooped over his forehead. He managed to make warm-up pants and his red Russian team jacket look like Armani. Expression calm, he took his seat next to Kisa. While Dev wanted to crawl out of his skin with a mess of emotions from shock and anger to a shameful craving for more, Mikhail Reznikov appeared utterly unaffected.

  Dev had never hated him more.

  Chapter Two

  February: The Olympic Games

  “You need to get laid.”

  Dev choked on his energy drink and glanced around the bus to see if any of their teammates had overheard. In the seat behind, Andrew Quinn smirked.

  “She’s not wrong.”

  “See?” Beside Dev, Bailey gave Andrew a sweet smile from her window seat. “Even the kid can tell.”

  Andrew squawked. “I’m eighteen! And the new men’s champion! When are you going to take me seriously?” His fair cheeks reddened, the blush sweeping all the way to his blond hair.

  “When you have your braces removed.”

  “They’re supposed to be invisible,” Andrew muttered.

  “Besides, you don’t want an old lady like me. I’d tell you to turn down your rock and roll and give you mints from my purse.”

  “You’re not even that old,” Andrew insisted. “Dev’s way older.”

  “Dev’s twenty-nine, and he’s staying that way,” Dev said. “Which means Bailey will be twenty-four indefinitely. You’ll catch up with her soon enough, Andrew.”

  As the bus made a turn, the glittering expanse of Lake Annecy came into sight, an icy blue in the sunlight. The conversations on the bus petered out as they peered in awe. Nestled near the Swiss border, Annecy was often referred to as one of France’s jewels. The Alps soared beyond the water, and a fresh layer of snow covered the town’s narrow streets and medieval rooftops.

  Bailey’s green eyes glowed, and she blew out a long breath. “Wow. This is just…wow.”

  They’d traveled the world for competitions and seen more than their fair share of beautiful places, but Annecy had to take the prize. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

  “Me either.” Eyes glued to the sights, she reached for his hand, finding it unerringly.

  Dev squeezed her fingers. “We did it, B. If nothing else, we made it here.”

  “Now we just have to win. No biggie.” She whispered, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you need to get laid. There’s a lot of hot man flesh here. Get some of that tension out.”

  “What about you? You’re tense. We’re all tense.”

  She flashed him a grin. “I’ve heard the stories about the Olympic Village. Believe me, I’ll be having all kinds of sex as soon as our event’s over. In the meantime I have my vibrator.”

  Andrew whimpered.

  “But seriously, D. The past few days you’ve been so wired. We’re all nervous, but…” She turned away from the window. “You’d tell me if something’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Of course. I’m just wound up. It’s the Olympics!”

  She shuddered with excitement and bounced in her seat. “We’re at the Olympics! I finally made it.”

  Andrew hooted, and Dev high-fived a short-track speed skater who’d begun running up and down the aisle as the bus buzzed again with laughter and chatter. It had been eight years, but Dev had made it back to the Olympics. He had the right partner, and he was trained and ready.

  Now he just needed to get a certain Russian competitor out of his head.

  After the Grand Prix Final, he’d written off what happened in the locker room as temporary insanity and focused all his energy on preparing for Nationals in January. He and Bailey hadn’t been perfect, but they’d easily won their fourth US title. They were training hard to put the finishing touches on their programs and make them the best they could be. Aside from the usual aches and pains that went along with being professional athletes, they were injury free. Everything was in place.

  So why did Dev feel as if he was balancing on a precipice? He’d competed against Mikhail Reznikov since they were juniors. Why should it be any different now?

  Because we shared orgasms.

  More than that, Mikhail had taken on the starring role in Dev’s jerk-off fantasies. Every time he tried to watch porn and think of other men—any other man would do—his brain refused. The only way he could get off these days was to think of Mikhail and remember the sensation of his hard body and the taste of his mouth. God, that mouth. Dev imagined fucking it with Mikhail on his knees and then pulling out and flipping him over and taking his ass and—

  Coughing, Dev shifted in his seat and crossed his legs into the aisle. Bailey was right. He needed to get laid. The opening ceremony was in a week, and their short program was two days later. Sex was the last thing he should be thinking of before the most important competition of his life, but maybe a bathroom blowjob would take the edge off.

  Gabby, one of the figure skating federation’s young media coordinators, appeared in the aisle with her usual wide smile, her tight dark curls bouncing around her ears. She gripped the edge of a seat as the bus made another turn.

  “Hey, guys! The AP reporter wants to move up your interview. When we get to the village, I’ll take you to the media center and you’ll have your sit-down right away. Okay?”

  “Sure, Gabby. No problem,” Bailey replied.

  “You got your copies of Sue’s talking points, right? She wanted to make sure you stayed on message.” Gabby smiled awkwardly.

  Dev nodded. “Don’t worry. We know the drill.”

  “Oh of course. She just wanted to…” Gabby seemed to be trying to find the most diplomatic phrasing.

  “Make sure we show absolutely no personality and are blandly inoffensive?” Bailey suggested.

  Gabby tried to laugh. “Well, she just wants to be sure American figure skating is portrayed in the best possible light.”

  As Bailey opened her mouth, Dev cut her off. “It’s okay. We understand. Right, B?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes. I promise we won’t say anything about how we’re hoping Kisa Kostina and Mikhail Reznikov will implode spectacularly and miss half their elements.”

  Gabby appeared extremely constipated.

  With a sigh, Bailey squeezed Gabby’s arm. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it. We know you’re just doing your job, and we’ll do ours. Promise.”

  They both smiled at Gabby before she returned to her seat. The mention of Mikhail had Dev’s mind spinning off in entirely inappropriate directions and he refocused. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  “It’s fine. You know I give good interview. I may not always follow the talking points quite to the letter, but close enough.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think Sue Stabler and the rest of the Feds would agree.”

  “They can’t see the forest for the trees. Honestly, what figure skating in America needs is personality. When we’re all pleasant little ciphers, it doesn’t draw in the viewers. Remember Matty Marcu
s? He was the best. That’s what we need. Personality.”

  “You know I’m on board, B. Look, we try our best to be ourselves while still playing the game. God, I will not miss the politics in this sport.” He groaned softly. “Could I feel like being interviewed any less right now? We just got off a plane. I don’t even know what time it is.”

  “It’s”—Bailey pulled out her phone—“eight-twenty a.m., and we have to stay up all day anyway to beat the jet lag. Might as well be our charming selves for the press and get some attention. Unless you wanted to go get laid.”

  “You have a one-track mind.”

  “It’s true. I’m a huge perv. But it’s one of the things you love most about me.”

  Laughing, Dev pressed a kiss to her head. “I can’t deny it.”

  Andrew cleared his throat behind them. “So if you’re such a perv—”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “But—”

  As Bailey and Andrew bickered, Dev closed his eyes and did some deep-breathing exercises. It would be fine. Everything was fine. When he and Mikhail saw each other again, it would be the same as always. Dev would smile and pal around with the affable Chinese skaters, and Roger Jackman would tell dirty jokes while Mikhail ignored everyone, aloof as always. Nothing had changed, and nothing would.

  “Dev, you first competed at the Olympic Games eight years ago with your former partner. How is this experience different?”

  Smiling easily, Dev tried to relax. They were holed up in what was called an interview suite. In reality, it was little more than a small windowless room with three hard-backed chairs facing one another. “Well, I’m older now, and I hope wiser. The first time I wasn’t a medal contender, so it was all about the experience. This time around, expectations are much higher.”

  The middle-aged American reporter, who’d introduced himself as Rich with a firm handshake and efficient smile, addressed Bailey. “Are you feeling the weight of those expectations? How do you cope with the pressure?”

  For a split second Dev was afraid she might say her vibrator, but of course Bailey was on her best media-friendly behavior.

  “I have a great support system. My family and friends are always there for me, as well as our coaches and teammates. And of course Dev is a constant source of strength. We just remind each other that no matter what happens, we’re going to do our best and soak up every moment of this experience.”

  “Are you disappointed the team event was abolished after its trial run in Sochi?”

  Dev and Bailey shared a glance, and Dev answered for them. “Yes and no. Of course it would be great to go for a medal together with our teammates in ice dance and singles, but it was a lot to ask to do our programs twice in competition, especially for the pairs since we’re first up and the team event was at the beginning of the Games.”

  “Do you think you have a shot at the gold? The Russians dominated pairs skating for decades, and with Kostina/Reznikov they’ve returned to the top of the sport. Many say they’re unbeatable.”

  Bailey’s smile was razor sharp, but she kept her tone light. “You never know what’s going to happen on the day. We’ve worked our whole lives for this, and we’re going to give a hundred and ten percent. We absolutely believe we can win.”

  “You also face stiff competition from the Canadians and Chinese,” Rich noted.

  Dev jumped in. “Absolutely. Nothing’s guaranteed for any team.” Except the Russians since the judges think they shit gold. “We all have to go for it, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”

  “There’s been a great deal of controversy regarding the judging system for several years now. Do you think there’s still too much room for bias in the system?”

  Do one-legged ducks swim in circles? Dev kept his expression placid. “Skating will always be a subjective sport. Sometimes we don’t agree with the judges’ marks, but my mother used to tell me, ‘trying to please everybody is like asking a goat to be an elephant.’” He chuckled. “I think it makes more sense in Malayalam. But possibly not.”

  Rich smiled. “Speaking of your family, I’m told you’ve become quite the celebrity in southern India. When was the last time you visited?”

  “Not since I was a teenager, but I’d love to go back. The support has been amazing. Not just from Kerala, but from all of India and the Indian communities in the States. A lot of people have told me they’d never watched skating before, and I think it’s wonderful for our sport to become more multicultural.”

  “How did you both get started in figure skating?”

  Bailey glanced at him and spoke first. “I can remember watching the Olympics on TV when I was a little girl in Evanston. I told my parents I was going to do that someday. They just laughed and thought I’d forget about it, but for the next week I nagged them about taking skating lessons. And here I am.” She grinned. “At the Olympics. I have to pinch myself sometimes. Dev wanted to be a hockey star first, but he came around.”

  Dev chuckled. “I sure did. My parents put me in all the sports they considered quintessentially American. Baseball, of course, and football, and hockey. There were elite figure skaters at the rink, and I loved the way they spun and jumped. I knocked out my front tooth trying a jump without a toe pick. After that, my parents bought me figure skates. I’d always loved music as a kid, and the idea of mixing music and sports was just perfect to me. Our extended family thought my parents were nuts. They said Indian boys don’t skate. But they came around.”

  “When you and Bailey won your first US title, there was a spate of vicious, racist comments on Twitter. How did you handle that?”

  Dev shrugged. “There will always be ignorant people who call me a terrorist because of the color of my skin, or who say I’m lying about my family’s religion. Just like the States, India’s a diverse country. Where my parents come from, twenty percent of the population is Christian. But if people want to believe I’m a secret Muslim, at least I’m in good company.”

  Rich chuckled. “Indeed. Bailey, how does it affect you when Dev is attacked?”

  “It really makes my blood boil.”

  “And trust me when I say you don’t want to get on Bailey’s bad side. She may look delicate, but she’s tough as nails,” Dev added.

  Bailey smiled. “Fortunately the vast majority of people out there are supportive, and we ignore the bigots. They’re not worth it.”

  “Dev, you mentioned Bailey’s tough. I’d think you’d have to be, not only as an athlete, but as a female pairs skater. The lifts and throws can be incredibly dangerous. Do you ever get scared, Bailey?” Rich asked.

  “Never. I trust Dev completely, and I love to fly. It’s the whole reason I became a pairs skater. Throw me, twist me, spin me—I love every second. He hasn’t dropped me yet.” She grinned.

  Dev groaned. “Quick, everyone knock on wood.” He rapped his knuckles on his own head. “I obviously know a lot of figure skaters, and pair girls are a breed apart. They’re fierce. Bailey inspires me every day.”

  Rich scanned his notes. “You’re considered by many to be the greatest American pairs team since Babilonia/Gardner. In the decade before you became champions, we saw a revolving door of teams at the top, with none able to achieve international success. You won your fourth national title last month and regularly stand on international podiums. What’s the secret to your success?”

  “Obviously a lot of hard work, but I think one thing that’s set us apart is that we’ve actually stayed together for more than five minutes,” Dev answered with a smile. “You can’t throw in the towel as soon as something goes wrong. When we teamed up, we committed to the long haul. It took a couple years for everything to gel. We had to be patient.”

  As they answered the standard questions about training and preparation, Dev found himself wishing he had a coffee. Not that he was really supposed to be drinking coffee, but it was going to be a long day without one and everyone had to have a vice, right? They had to be at the practice rink in the morning, a
nd the thought made him want to curl up and take a nap.

  “You’ve said you’ll be retiring at the end of this season. What are your plans for life after skating?”

  Dev’s mother had been asking the same question for two years. Dev glanced at Bailey. “Well, we’d both love to keep skating together professionally in shows and competitions like the Japan Open. There aren’t as many opportunities for professional skaters as there once were, unfortunately. I’d love to get into coaching in the future. I’m so passionate about the sport.”

  “Honestly, it’s almost impossible to think of anything past the next two weeks. Our whole lives, and especially this past year, have been focused on the Olympics. It’s like…” Bailey trailed off. “Like tunnel vision. We know there’s a whole world waiting for us once we’ve finished competing, but it’s theoretical. I’d like to go to college and travel, but right now everything comes down to these Games.”

  “There’s often a drop-off in competitors for the world championships in March after an Olympic Games, many citing exhaustion and the difficulty in revving up for another major competition so quickly. But you’ve said you definitely plan on competing, especially since the event will be in Dev’s hometown of Boston.”

  Dev smiled. “Absolutely. We’re really looking forward to it.” Truthfully they couldn’t even deal with thinking about it until after the Olympics were in the record books. One thing at a time. “It’s quite challenging after a huge event to get back to the practice rink and do it all over again in a few short weeks. But we can’t pass up the chance to perform for so many friends and family. While we train in Colorado Springs, we’re both from the northeast and this will be a homecoming.”

  “Did you consider continuing on past this season and competing for another four years? Top pair teams are usually on the older side for skaters, and it’s possible you could still be contenders for a few years to come.”