Keep on Dancing (til the world ends) Tessa Virtue/Scott Moir Figure Skating AU PG
Title: Keep on Dancing (til the world ends)
Author: elly427
Rating: PG13 for an apocalypse and allusions to sexy times. Tessa Virtue/Scott Moir Post Apocalyptic Figure Skating AU. Yes, you read that right.
Summary: Scott has always known Tessa is stronger than she looks.
A/N: I blame/thank taragel for this.
For the curious: http://bit.ly/HY9bZp I dare you not to adore them and wish them well during the zombie!apocalypse.
[][][]
Scott has always known that Tessa is stronger than she looks. Figure skaters always are, but Tessa in particular. He doesn’t know a single person who could have skated weeks after surgery.
But as she cleans the blade of her knife, raccoon carcass neatly gutted in front of her, he’s never been more aware of her strength. Never more afraid, either, he thinks to himself as she catches his eye and flashes him a sharp toothed grin.
“Told you you should’ve read The Hunger Games on that last flight,” she says. He rolls his eyes.
[][][]
At night they sleep curled together in the most defensible bedroom in the house that looks the least dilapidated. Detroit was a mess before the asteroid and the fever; sometimes they have to walk for miles to find somewhere with the windows still intact.
The going is slow. They’ve heard rumors that the border is closed, but they both carry their passports strapped to their bodies in the hopes that someone will listen when they get to Windsor.
Tessa had lost hers, days, maybe weeks ago, and they’d spent frantic hours backtracking, retracing their steps until they’d found it, sitting in the middle of road they’d had to hustle across when they’d heard something behind them. The hologram imprinted over her unsmiling face had glinted back at them both in the unforgiving August sun until she’d snatched it off the asphalt, holding it to her chest like the life line it might prove to be.
When they’d finally taken cover that night, exhausted, Scott had her face between his hands and his lips on her face before he’d been able to stop himself. Tessa had been holding onto his biceps so tightly he’d had bruises for days afterwards. It’d taken a million frantic kisses and her lips on his, stilling them, before he’d realized he’d been repeating “never leave you, never leave you, never never never” over and over against her hot, sunburnt skin.
When he woke the next morning, skin still pressed against skin, he’d smiled. Tessa had shifted against him and he’d smiled, smiled until something, a hawk, or a coyote, or what used to be a man shrieked somewhere in the distance.
“We should go,” she’d said, unnecessarily, and had reached down for her underwear where they lay on the floor next to the bed.
He didn’t know what to say to her anymore, after their previous night, after the feeling of her back arching in his hands in pleasure, not just for a judge’s score, but for them alone, here.
Instead he’d dressed himself in agreement.
[][][]
Tessa hums as they walk, but only when she’s tired enough to forget herself. They’re both in great shape, though part of him wishes the asteroid hadn’t hit during the first week of training. He’d indulged in a few too many Timbits and too much of his mom’s home cooking during their season break.
He finds himself humming along, under his breath when his legs start to ache like the hundredth time they’d do The Goose in practice. Tessa shoots him a look.
“Told you you’d like Farrucas eventually.” Scott chooses not to dignify that with a response.
[][][]
The last they’d seen of Marina had been - well.
It was the last they’d seen of Charlie and Meryl, and it’s taking everything Scott has to block the rest.
Because the last time he’d seen his friends, they’d been crouched over something that had been wearing Marina’s favorite leggings, her Prada bag on the ground next to her, contents spilled across the ice.
He’d pushed Tessa away soon enough that she hadn’t seen Charlie look up, hadn’t seen his blood stained lips, his wild, inhuman eyes, his lust for their fragile skin.
Sometimes at night, Tessa’s nightmares wake them both.
He thinks I didn’t do enough.
[][][]
Lake Michigan is not the colour it was the last time he was here. The water that laps at the shore is thick and green, viscous.
Tessa’s shoulders slump, and his hand finds them before he knows he’s moving.
“Maybe Canada is okay,” he says. It doesn’t sound any more convincing coming out of his mouth than it did in his head.
“Yeah,” she says, and leans into him.
[][][]
The night before they make their final approach to the Ambassador Bridge, Scott kisses Tessa. His arms curve around her like the protection he can’t offer tomorrow.
She kisses him back just as fiercely.
[][][]
In the morning, they make it half-way up the incline of the bridge before they are met by soldiers.
Scott takes Tessa’s hand.
“Together,” she says, before he has a chance.
“Always,” he says, like this could end any other way.
Author: elly427
Rating: PG13 for an apocalypse and allusions to sexy times. Tessa Virtue/Scott Moir Post Apocalyptic Figure Skating AU. Yes, you read that right.
Summary: Scott has always known Tessa is stronger than she looks.
A/N: I blame/thank taragel for this.
For the curious: http://bit.ly/HY9bZp I dare you not to adore them and wish them well during the zombie!apocalypse.
[][][]
Scott has always known that Tessa is stronger than she looks. Figure skaters always are, but Tessa in particular. He doesn’t know a single person who could have skated weeks after surgery.
But as she cleans the blade of her knife, raccoon carcass neatly gutted in front of her, he’s never been more aware of her strength. Never more afraid, either, he thinks to himself as she catches his eye and flashes him a sharp toothed grin.
“Told you you should’ve read The Hunger Games on that last flight,” she says. He rolls his eyes.
[][][]
At night they sleep curled together in the most defensible bedroom in the house that looks the least dilapidated. Detroit was a mess before the asteroid and the fever; sometimes they have to walk for miles to find somewhere with the windows still intact.
The going is slow. They’ve heard rumors that the border is closed, but they both carry their passports strapped to their bodies in the hopes that someone will listen when they get to Windsor.
Tessa had lost hers, days, maybe weeks ago, and they’d spent frantic hours backtracking, retracing their steps until they’d found it, sitting in the middle of road they’d had to hustle across when they’d heard something behind them. The hologram imprinted over her unsmiling face had glinted back at them both in the unforgiving August sun until she’d snatched it off the asphalt, holding it to her chest like the life line it might prove to be.
When they’d finally taken cover that night, exhausted, Scott had her face between his hands and his lips on her face before he’d been able to stop himself. Tessa had been holding onto his biceps so tightly he’d had bruises for days afterwards. It’d taken a million frantic kisses and her lips on his, stilling them, before he’d realized he’d been repeating “never leave you, never leave you, never never never” over and over against her hot, sunburnt skin.
When he woke the next morning, skin still pressed against skin, he’d smiled. Tessa had shifted against him and he’d smiled, smiled until something, a hawk, or a coyote, or what used to be a man shrieked somewhere in the distance.
“We should go,” she’d said, unnecessarily, and had reached down for her underwear where they lay on the floor next to the bed.
He didn’t know what to say to her anymore, after their previous night, after the feeling of her back arching in his hands in pleasure, not just for a judge’s score, but for them alone, here.
Instead he’d dressed himself in agreement.
[][][]
Tessa hums as they walk, but only when she’s tired enough to forget herself. They’re both in great shape, though part of him wishes the asteroid hadn’t hit during the first week of training. He’d indulged in a few too many Timbits and too much of his mom’s home cooking during their season break.
He finds himself humming along, under his breath when his legs start to ache like the hundredth time they’d do The Goose in practice. Tessa shoots him a look.
“Told you you’d like Farrucas eventually.” Scott chooses not to dignify that with a response.
[][][]
The last they’d seen of Marina had been - well.
It was the last they’d seen of Charlie and Meryl, and it’s taking everything Scott has to block the rest.
Because the last time he’d seen his friends, they’d been crouched over something that had been wearing Marina’s favorite leggings, her Prada bag on the ground next to her, contents spilled across the ice.
He’d pushed Tessa away soon enough that she hadn’t seen Charlie look up, hadn’t seen his blood stained lips, his wild, inhuman eyes, his lust for their fragile skin.
Sometimes at night, Tessa’s nightmares wake them both.
He thinks I didn’t do enough.
[][][]
Lake Michigan is not the colour it was the last time he was here. The water that laps at the shore is thick and green, viscous.
Tessa’s shoulders slump, and his hand finds them before he knows he’s moving.
“Maybe Canada is okay,” he says. It doesn’t sound any more convincing coming out of his mouth than it did in his head.
“Yeah,” she says, and leans into him.
[][][]
The night before they make their final approach to the Ambassador Bridge, Scott kisses Tessa. His arms curve around her like the protection he can’t offer tomorrow.
She kisses him back just as fiercely.
[][][]
In the morning, they make it half-way up the incline of the bridge before they are met by soldiers.
Scott takes Tessa’s hand.
“Together,” she says, before he has a chance.
“Always,” he says, like this could end any other way.