Go Figure
Title: Go Figure
Pairing: George/Alex
Word Count: 2,285
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Image prompt response.
Status: Complete
ALSO: This is a video of my competition (my first ever) from last year. I did some of the moves mentioned in the story, so if you want to take a look click here. Comment if you can, please! ^.^
Summary: George knew everyone had skeletons in their closets. In Alex's case, though? Well, he's got figure skates.
Seattle
Midwinter in Seattle was like it was in any other place that wasn’t Hawaii: cold and wet. Though in this case, Seattle was both of those and covered in snow. It was a perfect time for couples to cuddle in front of a fire.
In fact, that was what Alex and George were doing this very moment. They’d gone back to Alex’s place and only after going across town, remembered Alex’s heater had broken.
“Nice, Alex.”
“You forgot, too!”
So now, hours later, they sat in front of Alex’s fireplace with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. The temperature had dropped to around twenty below zero, leaving the two with no other option than to huddle together under the cloth.
Not that they had any objections. They had been together for five months now. They’d long since told their friends and coworkers, figuring it’d be easier than someone walking in on a…private moment. Their friends hadn’t cared, though Alex had received his fair share of threats that if he hurt George he was basically screwed-“And not in the fun way.” Their coworkers on the other hand were a different story. The men had been shocked, some disgusted. The women…oh, there was no other way to say it. They’d been pissed.
Like any other relationship, theirs hadn’t been a walk in the park. Admitting their feelings, telling everyone, dealing with the homophobic people they ran in to. It hadn’t been easy. There’d been a few fights, but they’d gotten through it.
Maybe that’s how Alex knew they’d work. With any of his ex-girlfriends, they would have fought, stormed out, cheated, and ended. He and George had both said they were in for the long haul and now, it really looked like it hadn’t just been a heat of the moment promise.
Alex shifted against George’s body, catching his boyfriend’s attention. “I’m gonna get something to eat. You want anything?”
George gently took the back of Alex’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. They separated a moment later. “Nah, I’m good.”
Alex rolled his eyes as he rose off his knees and disappeared into the kitchen.
George smiled, eyes drifting around Alex’s living room. God, he loved Alex’s apartment. The rooms weren’t over-the-top, but it was easy to see that his boyfriend had had fun decorating. The walls were splashed with a soft green, a plush couch of a darker green sitting against the far wall. A silver flat screen hung on the wall directly above a long bureau. George knew they were filled with movies and such. Action in one drawer, horror in another, drama, the few romances old friends had dragged him to, TV box sets.
George frowned. That’s five. There are six drawers. What’s in the other? He got to his feet, shuffling silently to the bureau. Pulling the drawer, his eyes lit up like a tree on Christmas. Home movies. He smiled devilishly. Perfect.
George pulled one from the collection. Topeka, 1987. Slipping the video into the VCR, George rushed to lower the volume so that Alex wouldn’t hear.
It wasn’t that Alex would be mad at him. It’s just that, George knew Alex wasn’t big on reminiscing. He’d do it if he had to, but mostly, he’d rush through it as best he could.
“Why waste time looking back on the past?” Alex had asked. “You can tell a story sixty times, but the person listening will never really understand. You know about my dad, but you don’t know the things he’d scream.” He’d laid his head on George’s shoulder. “I know you worry and that you want to know, but it won’t do anything. We can’t change the past.”
The way he’d said it had been both indifferent and reassuring. He’d been showing George that his father’s memory didn’t turn him into a bawling mess and that despite what he’d gone through, he was okay. George had only seen Alex cry once and that was only after he’d lost an abuse victim and her unborn baby in surgery. He’d found Alex in an on-call room. He’d looked at him for a moment and when George’s arm had enveloped his shoulders, Alex had let go. He’d cried for his past, cried for the woman, cried for the baby who would never get to live its life.
George bit his lip, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. Alex hadn’t broken down like that again after that day. He knew he couldn’t make Alex open up. He needed to give Alex time and maybe after some more had passed, Alex would let him in again.
George fidgeted, curiosity growing in the pit of his stomach. Quickly pushing the PLAY button, he sunk into one of the overstuffed chairs that sat in front of the television set.
The screen lit up to the image of…Is that an ice rink?
“Next up: Alex Karev of Okoboji, Iowa,” a voice boomed over the speakers.
A small figure came into view, going to the middle of the rink. As the camera focused in, a body began to become more defined. Small. Thin. Brown hair. Pale skin. Cocky eyes. One cheek still holding baby fat ever so slightly smaller than the other as the boy discreetly chewed his cheek.
The eyes were enough to tell George that the tiny form on the screen was most definitely Alexander James Karev. He was a lot younger, but it was him.
The smaller Alex bent his knees, sprawling his hands in front of his face and froze. The seconds ticked by and still Alex didn’t move.
“What are you doing?”
George jumped, his fingers fumbling for the STOP button on the remote. “Nothing!”
“Sure,” Alex said unbelievingly. “What are you watching?” he asked, grabbing the cassette jacket from the floor. “Topeka,” his brows furrowed, “I think I got second that year.”
“That year?” George shook his head. “Never mind. But I have to ask, what were you doing?”
Alex turned his eyes to the floor. “Figure skating.” Don’t get him wrong. He wasn’t ashamed that he figure skated. He just knew that it wasn’t something that people would expect from him. He’d gotten a lot of grief for it in school.
“You figure skate?” George’s jaw was somewhere near the floor. Alex Karev the big shot wrestler from Iowa figure skated? He didn’t doubt Alex, but had anyone other than his boyfriend told him, George would have told them to see a shrink.
“I did. There’s no time for me to go anymore,” Alex replied almost sadly. He used to feel so at home on the ice and now that he couldn’t get out half as much as he used to, he really missed it. “You want to finish watching it? I’m actually kind of curious. I can barely remember this routine.”
“I thought you don’t like talking about the past?”
“I don’t,” Alex said. “But watching it is another story entirely.” He reached over, grabbing the remote from George. “I’ll walk you through it.”
George nodded, grabbing the blanket he and Alex had abandoned earlier. He wrapped it around them, instantly snuggling against Alex’s chest. For such a muscled guy, he made an amazing pillow.
“Comfortable?” Alex pressed PLAY, chuckling.
“Yup.” George raised an eyebrow when the music began to blast through the speakers and Little Alex erupted right into a spin. “Bon Jovi?”
“Shut up,” Alex said, slapping George’s arm softly. He began to sing softly, “Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”
George smiled softly, his cheek rubbing against Alex’s sweater. Alex’s voice, though untrained, was nice. Soft and melodic. He could mimic the singer’s voice almost to a tee, missing only a few notes here and there. “What are those?”
Alex focused on the television, eyes instantly falling on his past self. Black pants and a shirt with blue flames. Ah. Now he was remembering the routine. “Crossovers.”
“What about that?”
Alex chuckled. His boyfriend was beginning to resemble a curious five year old. “That’s a spiral.”
George’s face was a perfect vision of confusion. “But you aren’t spinning.”
“Hey, I had no say in what they named the move.” He shrugged. “You lift your leg as high as you can behind you and what do they call it? A spiral. Freaks.” Alex’s head dropped to the side. “There’s a version of it in ballet, too. I just can’t remember what it’s called.”
Deciding it would be better not to ask why Alex knew the name of ballet moves, George turned his eyes back to the television. His eyes bugged. “How the…how…how the hell did you get your legs to go like that?! They’re like-”
“Parallel? Yeah, I know,” Alex chuckled. “It’s called an ina bauer. You have to start practicing it when you’re young, before your bones stop shaping.” He shrugged. “I guess you can learn it once you get older, but it’s a lot harder, painful.”
After seeing the move done, George had no doubt that it would hurt. “You had to have started young. You’re what, eight in the video.”
“Seven,” Alex corrected. “But, yeah, I was four when I started. My mom wanted my sister and me out of the house. I wanted karate, she wanted skating. You can guess who won.”
“Did she compete, too?”
“No,” Alex shook his head, “she only stuck with skating for about a year. Funny thing is, after she quit, she started karate.”
“And you didn’t join her.” It wasn’t a question. Alex had to have stuck with skating if he competed in Topeka when he was seven.
Alex shrugged. “It was fun.”
George laughed, kissing Alex deeply.
When they broke away, Alex spoke again, “Movie or make out?”
“Movie first,” George answered. “I want to see the rest.”
Back on the television screen, Alex drifted over the ice. With the rhythm of the song, Alex jumped and turned, a smile never leaving his face.
“No one can save me. The damage is done.”
Alex glided over the ice and for a moment, it looked like he was doing another spiral until he began to spin.
“It’s a camel spin. Basically, a spinning spiral.”
George laughed. “Try saying that five times fast.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried.”
The music faded out early, matching the division’s time limit and Alex fell to his knees in a final pose.
The arena burst into applause as Alex rose and took a final bow to each section. As he skated off, moving closer to the camera, his face came into clear focus once more. Shoulders just barely showing their rise and fall as he panted, red nose and cheeks, his eyes shining in excitement, a giant smile on his face.
“You did great, baby.”
“Thanks,” Alex panted, waving at the camera.
The screen faded to black, color returning a minute later. Three pedestals, medals to the side; yup, it was the rewards ceremony.
A woman with gray roots walked to the front, a microphone clutched in her hand. “Now, for the Junior Elements Division. In first, Nora Jenson.”
A teenage girl bounced to the top pedestal, squealing as the gold medal was placed around her neck. Her blonde hair fell over her face now that it was free from the tight confines of the required hair style.
“In second, Alexander Karev.”
Alex was barely half Nora’s height as he got onto his own podium. He smiled straight at the camera as the medal fell against his chest.
“In third, Samantha Smith.”
Another teenager, a redhead this time, shouted happily as she ran onto the stands. She slapped Nora’s hand excitedly, taking control only for the second it took to get her reward.
Alex could clearly be seen rolling his eyes.
Back in the apartment, Alex laughed. “I remember those two. They should have been cheerleaders instead. Never shut up.” His head fell to the side. “They actually complained to the woman running the competition saying that Samantha should have gotten seniority.”
“Oh, you aren’t serious.”
“I am. They kept following the poor woman until she threatened to give their medals to me.” Really, Alex did hate talking about the past, but those girls...they were too hilarious to not talk about.
George didn’t even bother to quiet his laugh as his head fell back onto Alex’s shoulder. “They shut up after that?”
“They ran from the room.”
“Oh, dear God.” George shook his head. “You ever run into them again?”
“At every competition after. They accused me of stalking them.” He bit his cheek, thinking for a moment. “Then when I got older, they started stalking me. I turn them down, they said I was gay.”
“They were half right.”
“So was half my high school. You try being on the Figure Skating Team all four years and see how they question your sexuality. Those uniforms alone had more spandex than the wrestling ones,” Alex smirked. “I was the only guy on the team. The twenty-odd girls had no complaints.”
George smacked him. “Still here!”
Alex kissed him. “I know.”
George pulled away. “You still have those uniforms?”
“Figure skating or wrestling?”
“Both.”
“Yup.”
“Do they still fit?”
Alex smirked. “They’re a bit snug.”
George pounded a fist into the air. “Yes!” He ran his fingers through Alex’s short hair.
“You want to see?”
“Duh.”
“Good.” Alex bent down, his lips just barely brushing George’s ear. “I have some more moves you didn’t see in the video.”
“Like?”
“Like a spread eagle.”
George’s eyes lit up and he pulled Alex’s arm. “Let’s go!”
They kissed, stumbling towards the bedroom.
On the television screen, Alex smiled and laughed as he waved.
The End.
Pairing: George/Alex
Word Count: 2,285
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Image prompt response.
Status: Complete
ALSO: This is a video of my competition (my first ever) from last year. I did some of the moves mentioned in the story, so if you want to take a look click here. Comment if you can, please! ^.^
Summary: George knew everyone had skeletons in their closets. In Alex's case, though? Well, he's got figure skates.
Seattle
Midwinter in Seattle was like it was in any other place that wasn’t Hawaii: cold and wet. Though in this case, Seattle was both of those and covered in snow. It was a perfect time for couples to cuddle in front of a fire.
In fact, that was what Alex and George were doing this very moment. They’d gone back to Alex’s place and only after going across town, remembered Alex’s heater had broken.
“Nice, Alex.”
“You forgot, too!”
So now, hours later, they sat in front of Alex’s fireplace with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. The temperature had dropped to around twenty below zero, leaving the two with no other option than to huddle together under the cloth.
Not that they had any objections. They had been together for five months now. They’d long since told their friends and coworkers, figuring it’d be easier than someone walking in on a…private moment. Their friends hadn’t cared, though Alex had received his fair share of threats that if he hurt George he was basically screwed-“And not in the fun way.” Their coworkers on the other hand were a different story. The men had been shocked, some disgusted. The women…oh, there was no other way to say it. They’d been pissed.
Like any other relationship, theirs hadn’t been a walk in the park. Admitting their feelings, telling everyone, dealing with the homophobic people they ran in to. It hadn’t been easy. There’d been a few fights, but they’d gotten through it.
Maybe that’s how Alex knew they’d work. With any of his ex-girlfriends, they would have fought, stormed out, cheated, and ended. He and George had both said they were in for the long haul and now, it really looked like it hadn’t just been a heat of the moment promise.
Alex shifted against George’s body, catching his boyfriend’s attention. “I’m gonna get something to eat. You want anything?”
George gently took the back of Alex’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. They separated a moment later. “Nah, I’m good.”
Alex rolled his eyes as he rose off his knees and disappeared into the kitchen.
George smiled, eyes drifting around Alex’s living room. God, he loved Alex’s apartment. The rooms weren’t over-the-top, but it was easy to see that his boyfriend had had fun decorating. The walls were splashed with a soft green, a plush couch of a darker green sitting against the far wall. A silver flat screen hung on the wall directly above a long bureau. George knew they were filled with movies and such. Action in one drawer, horror in another, drama, the few romances old friends had dragged him to, TV box sets.
George frowned. That’s five. There are six drawers. What’s in the other? He got to his feet, shuffling silently to the bureau. Pulling the drawer, his eyes lit up like a tree on Christmas. Home movies. He smiled devilishly. Perfect.
George pulled one from the collection. Topeka, 1987. Slipping the video into the VCR, George rushed to lower the volume so that Alex wouldn’t hear.
It wasn’t that Alex would be mad at him. It’s just that, George knew Alex wasn’t big on reminiscing. He’d do it if he had to, but mostly, he’d rush through it as best he could.
“Why waste time looking back on the past?” Alex had asked. “You can tell a story sixty times, but the person listening will never really understand. You know about my dad, but you don’t know the things he’d scream.” He’d laid his head on George’s shoulder. “I know you worry and that you want to know, but it won’t do anything. We can’t change the past.”
The way he’d said it had been both indifferent and reassuring. He’d been showing George that his father’s memory didn’t turn him into a bawling mess and that despite what he’d gone through, he was okay. George had only seen Alex cry once and that was only after he’d lost an abuse victim and her unborn baby in surgery. He’d found Alex in an on-call room. He’d looked at him for a moment and when George’s arm had enveloped his shoulders, Alex had let go. He’d cried for his past, cried for the woman, cried for the baby who would never get to live its life.
George bit his lip, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. Alex hadn’t broken down like that again after that day. He knew he couldn’t make Alex open up. He needed to give Alex time and maybe after some more had passed, Alex would let him in again.
George fidgeted, curiosity growing in the pit of his stomach. Quickly pushing the PLAY button, he sunk into one of the overstuffed chairs that sat in front of the television set.
The screen lit up to the image of…Is that an ice rink?
“Next up: Alex Karev of Okoboji, Iowa,” a voice boomed over the speakers.
A small figure came into view, going to the middle of the rink. As the camera focused in, a body began to become more defined. Small. Thin. Brown hair. Pale skin. Cocky eyes. One cheek still holding baby fat ever so slightly smaller than the other as the boy discreetly chewed his cheek.
The eyes were enough to tell George that the tiny form on the screen was most definitely Alexander James Karev. He was a lot younger, but it was him.
The smaller Alex bent his knees, sprawling his hands in front of his face and froze. The seconds ticked by and still Alex didn’t move.
“What are you doing?”
George jumped, his fingers fumbling for the STOP button on the remote. “Nothing!”
“Sure,” Alex said unbelievingly. “What are you watching?” he asked, grabbing the cassette jacket from the floor. “Topeka,” his brows furrowed, “I think I got second that year.”
“That year?” George shook his head. “Never mind. But I have to ask, what were you doing?”
Alex turned his eyes to the floor. “Figure skating.” Don’t get him wrong. He wasn’t ashamed that he figure skated. He just knew that it wasn’t something that people would expect from him. He’d gotten a lot of grief for it in school.
“You figure skate?” George’s jaw was somewhere near the floor. Alex Karev the big shot wrestler from Iowa figure skated? He didn’t doubt Alex, but had anyone other than his boyfriend told him, George would have told them to see a shrink.
“I did. There’s no time for me to go anymore,” Alex replied almost sadly. He used to feel so at home on the ice and now that he couldn’t get out half as much as he used to, he really missed it. “You want to finish watching it? I’m actually kind of curious. I can barely remember this routine.”
“I thought you don’t like talking about the past?”
“I don’t,” Alex said. “But watching it is another story entirely.” He reached over, grabbing the remote from George. “I’ll walk you through it.”
George nodded, grabbing the blanket he and Alex had abandoned earlier. He wrapped it around them, instantly snuggling against Alex’s chest. For such a muscled guy, he made an amazing pillow.
“Comfortable?” Alex pressed PLAY, chuckling.
“Yup.” George raised an eyebrow when the music began to blast through the speakers and Little Alex erupted right into a spin. “Bon Jovi?”
“Shut up,” Alex said, slapping George’s arm softly. He began to sing softly, “Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”
George smiled softly, his cheek rubbing against Alex’s sweater. Alex’s voice, though untrained, was nice. Soft and melodic. He could mimic the singer’s voice almost to a tee, missing only a few notes here and there. “What are those?”
Alex focused on the television, eyes instantly falling on his past self. Black pants and a shirt with blue flames. Ah. Now he was remembering the routine. “Crossovers.”
“What about that?”
Alex chuckled. His boyfriend was beginning to resemble a curious five year old. “That’s a spiral.”
George’s face was a perfect vision of confusion. “But you aren’t spinning.”
“Hey, I had no say in what they named the move.” He shrugged. “You lift your leg as high as you can behind you and what do they call it? A spiral. Freaks.” Alex’s head dropped to the side. “There’s a version of it in ballet, too. I just can’t remember what it’s called.”
Deciding it would be better not to ask why Alex knew the name of ballet moves, George turned his eyes back to the television. His eyes bugged. “How the…how…how the hell did you get your legs to go like that?! They’re like-”
“Parallel? Yeah, I know,” Alex chuckled. “It’s called an ina bauer. You have to start practicing it when you’re young, before your bones stop shaping.” He shrugged. “I guess you can learn it once you get older, but it’s a lot harder, painful.”
After seeing the move done, George had no doubt that it would hurt. “You had to have started young. You’re what, eight in the video.”
“Seven,” Alex corrected. “But, yeah, I was four when I started. My mom wanted my sister and me out of the house. I wanted karate, she wanted skating. You can guess who won.”
“Did she compete, too?”
“No,” Alex shook his head, “she only stuck with skating for about a year. Funny thing is, after she quit, she started karate.”
“And you didn’t join her.” It wasn’t a question. Alex had to have stuck with skating if he competed in Topeka when he was seven.
Alex shrugged. “It was fun.”
George laughed, kissing Alex deeply.
When they broke away, Alex spoke again, “Movie or make out?”
“Movie first,” George answered. “I want to see the rest.”
Back on the television screen, Alex drifted over the ice. With the rhythm of the song, Alex jumped and turned, a smile never leaving his face.
“No one can save me. The damage is done.”
Alex glided over the ice and for a moment, it looked like he was doing another spiral until he began to spin.
“It’s a camel spin. Basically, a spinning spiral.”
George laughed. “Try saying that five times fast.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried.”
The music faded out early, matching the division’s time limit and Alex fell to his knees in a final pose.
The arena burst into applause as Alex rose and took a final bow to each section. As he skated off, moving closer to the camera, his face came into clear focus once more. Shoulders just barely showing their rise and fall as he panted, red nose and cheeks, his eyes shining in excitement, a giant smile on his face.
“You did great, baby.”
“Thanks,” Alex panted, waving at the camera.
The screen faded to black, color returning a minute later. Three pedestals, medals to the side; yup, it was the rewards ceremony.
A woman with gray roots walked to the front, a microphone clutched in her hand. “Now, for the Junior Elements Division. In first, Nora Jenson.”
A teenage girl bounced to the top pedestal, squealing as the gold medal was placed around her neck. Her blonde hair fell over her face now that it was free from the tight confines of the required hair style.
“In second, Alexander Karev.”
Alex was barely half Nora’s height as he got onto his own podium. He smiled straight at the camera as the medal fell against his chest.
“In third, Samantha Smith.”
Another teenager, a redhead this time, shouted happily as she ran onto the stands. She slapped Nora’s hand excitedly, taking control only for the second it took to get her reward.
Alex could clearly be seen rolling his eyes.
Back in the apartment, Alex laughed. “I remember those two. They should have been cheerleaders instead. Never shut up.” His head fell to the side. “They actually complained to the woman running the competition saying that Samantha should have gotten seniority.”
“Oh, you aren’t serious.”
“I am. They kept following the poor woman until she threatened to give their medals to me.” Really, Alex did hate talking about the past, but those girls...they were too hilarious to not talk about.
George didn’t even bother to quiet his laugh as his head fell back onto Alex’s shoulder. “They shut up after that?”
“They ran from the room.”
“Oh, dear God.” George shook his head. “You ever run into them again?”
“At every competition after. They accused me of stalking them.” He bit his cheek, thinking for a moment. “Then when I got older, they started stalking me. I turn them down, they said I was gay.”
“They were half right.”
“So was half my high school. You try being on the Figure Skating Team all four years and see how they question your sexuality. Those uniforms alone had more spandex than the wrestling ones,” Alex smirked. “I was the only guy on the team. The twenty-odd girls had no complaints.”
George smacked him. “Still here!”
Alex kissed him. “I know.”
George pulled away. “You still have those uniforms?”
“Figure skating or wrestling?”
“Both.”
“Yup.”
“Do they still fit?”
Alex smirked. “They’re a bit snug.”
George pounded a fist into the air. “Yes!” He ran his fingers through Alex’s short hair.
“You want to see?”
“Duh.”
“Good.” Alex bent down, his lips just barely brushing George’s ear. “I have some more moves you didn’t see in the video.”
“Like?”
“Like a spread eagle.”
George’s eyes lit up and he pulled Alex’s arm. “Let’s go!”
They kissed, stumbling towards the bedroom.
On the television screen, Alex smiled and laughed as he waved.
The End.