Intro and a fic :)
There had been a mysterious tightness in Chazz’s chest since he and Jimmy stood on that podium together. He’d thought at first that it was from being out of his mind with pain. He knew now that that wasn’t true. Because when he walked back into the hotel room after staying late at the bar, feeling the need for some reason to drink himself into oblivion although he had every reason in the world to be happy, he saw Jimmy lying there fast asleep already in his own bed. And his ankle was still killing him, but they’d fixed it up and doped him up on painkillers hours ago, and that fluffy numb feeling of being disconnected from his body had done nothing to kill the pain somehow. He’d had to go straight from the hospital to the bar although he was in no condition to go anywhere by himself as Coach had said.
He’d expected to hear those words from Jimmy. The guy was such a mother hen. But it wasn’t surprising really that Jimmy hadn’t said anything-even as high and delirious as Chazz had been, he hadn’t been blind. He’d still been able to see Jimmy clutching Katie’s hands and looking into Katie’s eyes, and just looking so goddamn happy.
“We won the gold, Chazz.” He’d said, that angelic smile on his face as he tried once to distract Chazz from the foul mood he was slipping into.
Then why aren’t I happy? Chazz had wondered. It hadn’t really occurred to him at the time that he hadn’t won what mattered. So he still felt like a loser.
He limped carefully to his own side of the room and sat down on his bed, watching Jimmy’s dark silhouette; the steady rise and fall of his chest. He could see the outline of Jimmy’s arm and knew that Jimmy’s thumb was tucked into his mouth. Normally it would be tucked around his favorite teddy bear too. But they’d had to pack light when on their way to the competition.
The tightness in his chest turned into an ache, and he suddenly felt like bursting into pathetic tears. How could he be so damn depressed when he’d just had a day millions would kill for? It didn’t make any sense.
But right in front of him, probably dreaming sweet dreams of Katie Van Waldenberg, was all the gold he cared about. Everything he’d ever wanted. And everything he’d never have. And well, that gold medal around his neck that he hadn’t taken off all day was starting to feel like a dead weight dragging him down into Hell. It was crushing him, turning everything sweet into something unbearably bitter.
He couldn’t help it. He had a serious lapse in judgment. Maybe because of the drugs or the booze, or both. Whatever the reason he stumbled from his sitting position, managed to bend over without falling (he wasn’t an ice skater for nothing; even in this ridiculous state he had impeccable balance) and plant a not-so-gentle kiss on the corner of Jimmy’s full, relaxed mouth. The kiss was sloppy because Jimmy was drooling a little, and not exactly on center because Jimmy’s thumb was in the way. But whatever-it was the closest Chazz would ever get to the real thing, and he was well used to taking his scraps and being grateful for them.
He stood up and grabbed his duffel bag from its spot next to his bed side table. It was ready and waiting, nothing out of place. He’d always been ready to run. He knew that now.
Slinging the bag over his shoulder he clutched at the medal around his neck. “It’s Fool’s Gold,” he whispered brokenly. “You’re the only kind that matters.”
He would have turned around to look at Jimmy one last time but it was dark and he couldn’t see, so there was no point in it. And he would have ripped the medal from his neck and flung it somewhere, anywhere, but he’d worked too hard for it and he wanted something to remember Jimmy by. Although forgetting had always been less painful.
He limped with mindless determination toward the door, prepared to walk out and never come back. He knew he wouldn’t even be missed.
But he heard the sweetest sound in the world then, and it froze him right in his tracks.
“Chazz.”
He turned around and saw the dark outline of the only person he’d ever loved sitting up in bed. He was in shock for a moment and didn’t know what to think. And then the obvious thought that of course you can’t just kiss someone while they’re sleeping and not expect them to wake up, because life never works like that except in the movies, occurred to him. And then he wanted to kick himself. Right on his broken ankle.
“Uh. Hi.” He said intelligently.
TBC… maybe.