Cole returned to his apartment after a late victory dinner with the rest of the team, still riding the high from their win, and the fact that he’d scored a goal and got two assists. He hadn’t even minded the ribbing the guys had given him after the game, about how he always showed off when a certain figure skater was in the audience.
Making his way through the dark, quiet space, Cole found Valeri curled up in bed sleeping off the jet lag, blue light from the muted television making his milk-pale skin glow.
Quietly, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled onto the mattress next to Valeri, shushing him when he began to stir.
“Shh, baby, it’s just me. Go back to sleep.”
Valeri groaned something that might have been a response, shuffling forward into Cole’s arms, his head tucked beneath Cole’s chin. His dark hair, a bit shaggier than it had been the last time Cole had seen him, tickled Cole’s nose.
For a moment, Cole just held him, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Valeri was here, in his arms. In his bed. It had been three months since they’d been in the same country, let alone on the same continent. The season was in full swing for them both, and outside the summer months, it was incredibly difficult for them to manage to see each other in person.
And yet, as soon as there had been a gap in his schedule, Valeri had hopped on a plane.
“I can’t believe you flew all the way here from Finland,” Cole murmured, his hand smoothing down Valeri’s back, feeling the bumps of his spine beneath his—Cole’s—t-shirt. “Boris can’t have been happy about that.”
“Boris can live without me for a few days.” Valeri tipped his head back, giving Cole a sleepy smile. “You played well tonight. I am proud of you.”
Cole grinned and pressed his lips to Valeri’s in a sweet kiss that after a moment deepened, Valeri whining softly into Cole’s mouth as he was rolled onto his back. The hand that had been stroking Valeri’s spine slipped beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the curve of his waist, the flat plane of his pale stomach, and then moving up to tweak a pert nipple.
“Kolya,” Valeri whimpered, and that was all the encouragement Cole needed to keep going.
Afterward, when they lay spent and sweaty beneath Cole’s sheets, Valeri sucked in a breath and said: “I have been thinking about Beijing.”
“Beijing?” Cole frowned down at the top of Valeri’s head where it was pillowed on his chest. “Babe, that’s five years away. Don’t you think we should try and get through Pyeongchang first?”
“I will be thirty-two,” Valeri continued as if Cole had not spoken. Raising his head, he met Cole’s gaze. “I think, no matter what happens in Beijing, I will retire.”
Silently, Cole searched Valeri’s face, but he saw no hint of laughter or mirth in his blue eyes, nothing to indicate that Valeri wasn’t serious about this.
“Are you sure?” he finally asked, running his hand up and down Valeri’s spine comfortingly. “I mean, Tarnovsky skated until he was thirty-five.”
That did earn him an eye roll. “Dmitri and I are not same person, no matter what the press says.”
“Retirement, though,” Cole pressed. “Isn’t it scary to think about?”
Valeri shrugged one shoulder. “I have been skating competitively since I was twelve. Twenty years is good career, impressive career.”
“What will you do after?”
For the first time, Valeri looked—not nervous, but unsure. “I think perhaps I will try my hand at coaching. Become dual citizen, relocate to America. Spend the off-season in Canada. That way I can be closer to my partner.”
Cole was silent for a beat, two. His hand paused at the base of Valeri’s spine and stayed there, frozen as the rest of him. Finally, he said: “All this talk about retirement—is this your roundabout way of saying you want to move in together?”
Valeri worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Is this…something you want?”
“Idiot,” Cole said fondly. “We practically live together already.”
Valeri’s answering grin was cocky, and yet also, somehow, relieved. “So that is yes? You must be clear, Kolya—”
Cole leaned in and cut him off with a kiss.
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