help me
The touches are soft, barely there. Fleeting grazes of Apolo's fingertips on his shoulder, his upper arm. They're never anywhere that could be construed as inappropriate, but JR wants them to be. Oh, he wants that more than he wants to win gold in all of his events in Vancouver, more than he wants to be an architect. He wants Apolo.
But Apolo doesn't know that.
Apolo can't know that, because if he did, JR is entirely sure that the world would end and he would die of embarrassment and get kicked off the team. He's so thankful for what Apolo has done for him: helping him train, getting him Dr. Heiden when he had his accident, and now they stretch together and Apolo always watches him as he rubs cream and ointment into his scar and sometimes JR just cannot handle it, okay? He flushes when he feels Apolo's eyes on him, focuses on rubbing the scar just how the doctor told him to until Apolo leaves and he can breathe again.
As a result, his scar looks much, much better.
--
JR cannot believe he's here.
He's in Vancouver, and everyone around him is so happy and it's so cold and bright and the best thing he's ever experienced. Everyone at the rink knows Apolo, keeps calling him 'Chunky' and it takes JR a billion years before he even remembers that it used to be Apolo's nickname. He always forgets that his brothers used to skate in-line with Apolo and this guy watched him skate from time to time, probably doesn't even remember it. JR doesn't even know why he's thinking of it now, during the freaking Olympics of all things, so he forgets again, focusing his mind.
--
When he wins his first bronze, he's ecstatic. He can't believe that he's at the Olympics and he just won a bronze and Apolo just won silver. What? And then- then he's being lifted off the ground and he's grabbing at shoulders, trying not to fall. That would be embarrassing.
It takes him a moment to realize that Apolo has him hoisted high in the air, and it knocks the breath out of him.
"Good job," Apolo says, putting him down. "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks," JR responds, breathless. "You too."
--
That night, JR celebrates.
He's nineteen, it's totally legal for him to have a drink or two or five in Canada, and he just won bronze, so whatever, he definitely deserves it.
He's stumbling back to his room when he runs into Apolo in the hallway.
"Where have you been, kid?" Apolo asks, and JR forgets how to speak.
Apolo waits for an answer, but JR can't come up with one so Apolo sighs, opening his door.
"Just be careful, we have another in a few days."
The door clicks shut behind him, and all of JR's breath leaves him in a rush.
--
He wakes the next morning with a monster hangover. He gets up and shuts the curtains on the window and stumbles into the bathroom for a hot shower, trying to make himself feel better.
There's a knock on his door as he gets out, and JR walks over to it, towel firmly around his waist. It's probably just someone from the team, whatever, they've all seen way too much of each other anyway.
But, of course, it's Apolo.
"Hey," he says, and JR nods.
"Just wanted to make sure you're okay. You looked pretty wrecked last night." He's smiling wryly, like he totally knows what JR went through and what he feels like currently.
"Yeah," JR manages. "I'm good. Thanks."
They stand awkwardly together. JR doesn't miss the way Apolo's eyes flick down the length of his torso, the way he licks his bottom lip before biting it. He's always done that, but it still makes JR shiver and flush.
"Breakfast?" Apolo asks, and JR nods.
--
"You sure are quiet today," Apolo says over the table in his room, and JR watches as he eats two tablespoons of some oatmeal thing and an egg. That's it.
"Are you going to eat more than that?" JR asks, eyebrows raised and Apolo just smiles at him.
"Gotta do what it takes."
All of a sudden, JR realizes that he's been watching this happen for months and months but hadn't even realized it. No wonder Apolo's so skinny. No wonder the skin suit sags off of him and he looks so tired all the time. He's killing himself for this sport that he loves. JR feels sick.
He stands, and Apolo raises an eyebrow at him.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, I just- I need to go," JR says, heading toward the door. "I have to sharpen my skates."
"We don't have training until-"
"Yeah, I just need to leave."
He pretends not to see the hurt look on Apolo's face as he closes the door.
--
They win bronze in the relay. That's a second bronze, a second Olympic medal for JR, and he still can't believe it. He has the flag and they do a lap with it, all of them, and Apolo is just skating around and JR thinks, well, that's it, the end of the Olympics.
But it's the end for Apolo, too. He's not coming back. A third Olympics that he had to nearly kill himself to get to? JR would probably kill Apolo himself if he mentioned something about Sochi. Why would he come back? He has eight medals. Eight. What does he have left to prove?
He stays away from Apolo that night, at the party. He watches from afar as he eats a slice of pizza, and he can feel himself flush as Apolo licks his lips, savoring the taste. It's driving JR crazy. Absolutely insane.
--
"Apolo, I think you need to go back to your room, man," JR says a little while later, after Apolo has had like, two beers and is obviously feeling them. It's probably because he's so skinny and hasn't eaten anything except like, two eggs and some oatmeal stuff and a slice of pizza. He'll need water, definitely.
"I'm fine JR, what are you talking about?" he laughs, and JR gets butterflies in his stomach. He's maybe had a little too much as well, but he's been eating like a normal person, and it's nowhere near as much as he had the other day.
"Come on, dude, just come with me," JR grumbles, taking Apolo's arm and dragging him toward the hallway, back toward his room.
"You need some water," JR mumbles, but Apolo trips and catches himself by pressing JR to the wall, and they stay like that for a moment. Mashed together uncomfortably, JR can feel Apolo's elbow in his hip, and he can also feel his own dick hardening in his pants, and so, apparently, can Apolo.
"Well hello there," he says, and JR doesn't even have time to think before their mouths are connected and he's kissing like he's drowning.
--
Apolo is surprisingly soft.
Not his body, his body is ridiculous muscle and JR is certain Apolo could just pick him up and carry him where ever he wanted, that's how strong he is. But his mouth, his hair, his fingertips as they brush under JR's shirt; they're all incredibly soft. JR can't get enough. He can't stop running his hands through Apolo's hair or moaning into his mouth when he feels his fingers on his skin and the push of his lips, soft but hungry, claiming JR's in a way he's never experienced before.
It's so good he can't breathe. He doesn't want to breathe, but he needs to. He pulls back with a gasp, hands still firmly in Apolo's hair and he takes a quick breath but Apolo's mouth has already moved on, moving down his neck to mouth at the tendon, teeth scraping over his adam's apple, and JR whimpers, tightening the grip on Apolo's hair.
This is so good. This is what he's always wanted, ever since he was 15 and met Apolo and saw him lick and bite his lip for the first time. He hadn't even known he could be attracted to men, and still really isn't, not in a big way, but Apolo. He will always want Apolo.
This isn't how he wants Apolo, though. He doesn't want just some drunken mistake at the Olympics that no one will ever speak of again. He's an all or nothing type of guy, go big or go home, do or die, and he knows Apolo is too. This isn't right. This shouldn't be happening.
"Apolo," he murmurs, grabbing his wrists, pushing him away. "This isn't- you're going to regret this in the morning," he says, and takes Apolo back to his room to fall asleep.
--