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Going For Gold

Summary:

Winter olympics AU where Jean is in his first winter games, and meets a very attractive figure skater..

Notes:

AHHHHHH!!! Hello there! This is my First proper multi-chapter fanfic so i'm hella nervous! It might start off kinda bad and the chapters might be a little short, but i'm going to do my best!

Chapter 1: Breaking the ice

Chapter Text

Jean zipped up his suitcase and lifted it off his bed. He sighed as he looked around his dormitory. The absence of the snowboarding posters that had been on the walls just yesterday made the room seem bigger. It was almost saddening to see them gone. But the sadness was soon replaced with copious amounts of excitement.

He had been snowboarding his whole life, it was like he had been born with a board in his arms, ever since his first time on the slopes when he was just five he knew that this is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

And after years of training, tournaments, twisted wrists and broken bones, he was finally fulfilling his dream.

He was going to compete in the winter olympics in Sochi.

He had dreamed of this his whole life. And now that it was happening, he found it almost impossible to believe.

A shout from the corridor drew him out of his thoughts as he turned his attention to getting ready to leave. He took one last look at the dorm he had shared with his team mates for the last few weeks. He was on the German team with Eren Jäger, Connie Springer, and Armin Arlert. It was weird to think that just a few weeks ago they had been introduced for the first time. They were like family now. In Erens’ case, an annoying little brother.

As if on cue, Eren stuck his head into the dorm and stared telling him to hurry the fuck up.

“Seriously, the snow’s going to be fucking melted by the time we get there if you keep zoning out like that.”

“Yeah, yeah i’m coming. Keep your fucking pants on.”

Jean dragged his bag out of his room and brought it to the awaiting bus. He tossed his bag in with the others and took one last look at the building he had made his home over the last few weeks. The huge, four story, Georgian looking building. With the backdrop of the mountains that he had trained on, It looked beautiful. His thoughts were, once again, interrupted, by Connie this time, who slung his arm around Jeans’ shoulder.

“This is it man.” said Connie, a smirk on his face as he sighed and looked at the house. “We’re in the big leagues now.”

“Yup.” replied Jean.

“We’re going to the olympics.”

“Yup.”

“In fucking Russia of all places.”

“Yup.”

“You nervous?”

“Nah man.” Jean scratched the back of his neck. “Just a few million people. No biggie”

“Very fucking funny.”

“You’re not going to pussy out now are you Connie?” Came a shout from behind them. When they turned they saw Eren walking towards them with Armin in tow.

“And give up a chance to kick your ass on live T.V? No chance!” Connie shouted back, the nerves sill evident in his voice, though less then before.

“We’ll be fine.” Said Armin, “We’re more than prepared after all the training, so all we have to do is go out there and do it.”

“Always the optimist aren’t we Armin?” said Eren, ruffling the shorter blondes hair, him and Armin had been friends before coming here to the training camp. So they had always been close. “Now lets get on the bus before it leaves without us.”

The four boys piled onto the bus and made their way to the back. they were the first stop on the way to the airport. The bus was picking up some of the other teams as well, so Jean sat by the window, plugged his earphones into his phone and blasted ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’, as loud as it would go.

Their trainer, Levi, sat at the front of the bus and the driver shut the door as the bus drove down the long, winding driveway of the centre. Jean felt a sharp prod in his ribs as Connie elbowed him. He removed one of his earphones and heard the chants of, “SOCHI! SOCHI! SOCHI!” Ringing throughout the bus. Jean rolled his eyes and placed his earphone back in, drowning out Connie and Erens’ shouting. He looked over at the three boys sitting beside him.

Connie, who sat directly beside him, was competing in the snowboard cross and Slope style events. He was sixteen years old and the youngest of the team. He’s very good at gaining speed, and when he’s in the zone, his tricks are phenomenal. But he’s thickheaded, lazy, and forgets to think a lot. But when he gives it his all, it’s a sight to behold.

Eren sat beside Connie, talking to him with great enthusiasm about something that Jean didn’t really care about in the slightest. Eren was competing in the Parallel slalom, Parallel giant slalom, and Slope style events. Eren, who was seventeen was an ass at the best of times in Jeans’ opinion, but to give him credit, he worked hard to get where he is today, doing extra training whenever he could and he always tried to push his limits. Sometimes pushing them too far and fucking up. But most of the time, his pure determination paid off and he could pull some pretty impressive tricks.

Armin sat at the end of the row reading a copy of, ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird.’ Armin was competing in the half pipe and Slope style events. Armin was sixteen, but looked about twelve and very feminine with his shoulder length blond hair and large blue eyes. But behind his girlish exterior lay a snowboarding genius. Whenever Armin put his brilliant mind to it, he could do tricks that could blow your mind. What he lacked in brute strength, he made up for in skill. He had been working at his technique for years and had nearly perfected it.

Unlike the others, Jean was a one trick pony. He was competing in just the Half pipe. He had worked at it all his life. When he was younger he did a few slope style events but never felt like it… clicked with him. He never did overly well anyway. Then one day, when he was about ten, he mixed up the times for the slope style and half pipe events and decided to just go for it and enter the half pipe. And when he did it.. he felt the click he was looking for. The adrenaline rush when he flew off the bank for the first time, when he flew into the air, it was like time stopped and he just hung there for a while. His heart thumped hard in his chest,and adrenaline pumped through him. He felt himself start to fall back towards the ground and from then on, the movements were natural to him. He twisted and flipped and felt like he had been doing this his whole life. He came second in that competition, but every day after that, he trained in the half pipe and only the half pipe. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt as if he wanted to dedicate himself completely to this discipline, as if it was a part of him.

The bus slowed to a halt and the door opened, Jean looked up towards the front of the bus and saw a few people enter the bus. One girl, who was eating a chocolate bar looked towards the back of the bus and smiled.

“Well, we must be pretty fucked for snowboarders if they're letting losers like you on the team!” she shouted towards the group of boys. All of them looked up at the same time and stared at her.

Connie then stood up and laughed loudly, adding to the confusion of the other snowboarders.

“Well fuck me!” said Connie, with a stupidly big grin on his face, “If it isn’t Sasha!” He ran down the middle aisle of the bus and hugged her. “I haven’t seen you in fucking years, what are you doing here?”

“You, my dear friend, are looking at the speed skating representative for this dear little country of ours.” said Sasha, jabbing her chest with her thumb with a smug smirk, chocolate bar in hand.

“No fucking way!” said Connie, laughing again. Jean found it weird that Connie was laughing so much.

Connie turned around to face the boys again, throwing his arm around Sasha’s shoulders.

“Guys, this is Sasha, we were best friends in middle school. Sasha, this is Armin, Eren, and Jean.”

“Nice to meet you all!” She said with a cheerful grin, Jean could see why her and Connie were such good friends.

Sasha stood talking to Connie, Eren and Armin for a while. Jean was too tired to engage in conversation. He had woken up at 4am that morning and wasn’t in the mood for socialising. He stood up and moved to the seat in front of the one where he was sitting, explaining to Connie that he wanted to get some sleep before they got to the airport. He sat down and laid his head against the cool glass of the window. He closed his eyes and thought of snowboarding down mountain trails.

 

When Jean opened his eyes, he could make out more voices then before. A hum of conversation went around the bus, the odd shout or laugh coming over the noise. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and kept his head in his hands for a moment. He sighed and sat up, taking his head out of his hands and leaning his head against the headrest on the bus seat.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Jean turned in his seat to face Connie, who had Sasha’s sleeping head on his shoulder. “The driver says we’re only a few minutes from the airport, so you better get your ass in gear.”

“M’kay.” grunted Jean, stretching out his arms and yawning. He ran his hands through his hair and blinked a few times, still not quite awake and the sensation of flying in his dream still there. He looked out the window and saw that they were in the city, the sign for the airport alerting him that they were only five minutes away.

After a while, the bus halted outside of the terminal, and the door opened allowing the athletes out of the bus. Jean was more than happy to get off the bus, his legs felt stiff and his neck was sore from sleeping at an awkward angle. He retrieved his suitcase and the bag that held his gear off the bus and put them on a baggage cart. He then joined Connie, Eren and Armin, who were standing in a circle around coach Levi.

“Listen up, you’ve all competed abroad before so I’m not going to wipe your asses for you.”

Always the charmer.

“You get your gear, check it in, then check in the rest of your shit and meet me at the entrance to security. Alright?” ordered Levi in his usual stern tone.

The boys nodded and headed in to the airport, a blue sign hung from the ceiling that read, “Best of Luck to Our Sochi Athletes!” in large white font with snowflakes around it.

They looked up at the screen indicating where to check in, they made their way to the desk and checked in their gear and suitcases. They made their way over to the security check and met up with Levi. When they were finally done with security, (Connie had a switch knife in his pocket and got searched and had it confiscated.), they made their way to the executive lounge where some of the other athletes were already waiting and relaxed. Jean was fucking sick of the airport already. He leaned back in his chair, sighed heavily, and closed his eyes. An announcement came over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the flight to Sochi International Airport has been delayed until further notice due to bad weather.”

A collective groan went around the room as Jean cursed under his breath. This is just what he fucking needed. Hours stuck in a fucking waiting room. He turned to the others, they looked just as tired and pissed as he did. This was going to be a long fucking wait. He could tell.

Chapter 2: Snowed In

Notes:

Well. Here it is! chapter 2! Sorry i upload the chapters so far apart, i have no internet in my moms house during the week so I'll try to upload on weekends! Chapter 3 is in the works so I will upload it soon!

Chapter Text

After about an hour and a half trying to beat his high score on Flappy Bird (a whopping 9.), Jean decided he needed a drink. He got up and made his way over to the bar, pulling up a stool near the end. He ordered a Cidona and placed his elbows on the counter, put his head in his hands and sighed.

“Been here a while huh?” asked a voice beside him.

“You have no fucking idea.”

“Trust me, I do. I’ve been here for nearly two hours now.”

Jean lifted his head out of his hands and looked to his right towards the owner of the voice. The guy had short, dark hair that was parted down the middle. He had deep, dark eyes and a dusting of freckles on his cheeks.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

The other boy turned towards Jean and extended his hand.

“Marco Bodt, male figure skater. And before you ask, yes, I am gay.”

Jean felt kind of shocked. How could this guy, who he had just met, be so open? He seemed so chill about it, Jean could be a homophobe for all this Marco guy knew, and still he came right out and said he was gay. Not that Jean was a homophobe.

“Jean Kirschtein, snowboarder, nice to meet you.” Jean took the other boys hand and shook it.

“Sorry if that surprised you.” said Marco, looking a little embarrassed, “It’s just the first thing everyone thinks when I tell them I’m a figure skater. And they try all these, ‘subtle questions’ like, ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ and, ‘You must have girls falling at your feet.’ It gets kind of annoying after a while.”

“Nah man it’s fine.” Jean said, rubbing at the hair on the back of his neck. “I totally get it, that’s one of the good things about being a snowboarder, you don’t get that kind of shit from people.”

“Must be nice.” Marco muttered, looking a little distant. “I’m kind of nervous going, you know, with all the anti-gay stuff going on over there.” He looked down at his hands and fidgeted with his thumbs.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, I doubt anyone will give a shit once the competitions start anyway.” Jean tried to sound comforting, he knew how scary it was going to Russia as a gay athlete. Little did Marco know, Jean was in the same boat, and he was just as, if not more, nervous.

“I guess so..” muttered Marco, he was hanging his head now, but he snapped up and looked at Jean with a soft smile on his face. “On a lighter topic, what events are you doing?”

“Half pipe,” Jean replied, “You?”

“Mens’ singles.”

“Another one-event man like myself eh?”

“Yeah.” Marco looked back down at his hands again, “I just wasn’t ever that good in pairs.”

“Nothing wrong with that my friend, means the spotlight is on you and you alone.”

“Just how I like it.” said Marco with a smirk and a chuckle, Jean laughed too, he found it surprisingly easy to talk to this guy. It was like he didn’t feel like he had to try too hard to keep the conversation going.

They sat and talked for about another hour before deciding to move to one the couches dotted around the lounge. They found one a little away from the others near the door and sat down.

“So if you think about it,” Marco continued from where he left off, “Figure skating is manly as hell. I mean, we get girls asses in our face all the time, and do you know how many people have had their fingers cut off by skates?”

“I’m guessing a lot?”

“Damm fucking right a lot!” said Marco. The two guys laughed for reasons they didn’t even know.

“Ok, when you put it like that, it does seem pretty badass, but I think the frilly outfits kind of out weigh the sliced off fingers thing.” Jean gestured to his own outfit of worn, baggy jeans and over sized t-shirt.

“Not all of our outfits are frilly.” protested Marco, “Sometimes, we wear leather.”

“Oh yeah, like that’s any better.” Jean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and smirking.

“I’d like to see a snowboarder do a triple axel in skin-tight pants.” protested Marco, crossing his arms and smirking right back at Jean.

“I have no idea what that is, but it sounds difficult.”

“It is. And I can do it.” Marco smiled, looking even smugger now.

“Well mister high and mighty,” said ‘Jean leaning forward, propping up one of his elbows on his knee and resting his chin on his fist, “If you show me this, ‘triple..thing..”

“Triple axle”

“Whatever, I will show you a back-side 180.”

“You’re on.” said Marco, leaning forward on his knuckle also. Coming closer to Jean and lowering his voice slightly. “I look forward to seeing your back-side Jean.”

Jean blushed a little at this. But quickly shook it off as Marco leaned back in his chair and laughed loudly.

“Hah hah, very funny.” Jean said, trying to keep a serious face,and failing, smirking and laughing too.

After another while of talking and laughing, two girls approached them and asked if they could sit with them. The two boys obliged and allowed the girls some room. The girls introduced themselves as Ymir and Christa. The two girls were competing in the first ever women’s olympic ski jump.

Christa was a tiny thing, about four foot eight in height and looked about ten. Her blonde hair came just past her shoulders and she had large, child-like, ice-blue eyes. She seemed quiet and gentle, unlike her companion.

Ymir was a lot taller with tanned skin, dark brown hair and freckles on her checks. Her eyes were a deep brown and she seemed quite cold at first, and very protective over her blonde friend.

Jean and Marco introduced them selves, Marco doing his, “And yes, I’m gay.” thing again, the two girls looking as shocked as Jean had. Jean was silently happy that he knew he wasn’t the only one Marco had said that to.

“Well.” said Ymir, sounding a little surprised at first, but breaking into a smile. “Nice to know we’re not the only ones, aye Chrissy?” she slung her arm around Christas’ shoulders.

“Yes.” replied Christa, smiling kindly at Marco, “I thought we were going to be the only openly gay athletes here. But it’s nice to know we’re not alone. We want to show the world that it doesn’t matter about your sexuality, as long as you have respect for the people around you and enjoy your sport.”

‘This girl is a fucking saint.’ thought Jean.

The four of them talked amongst themselves for another hour. Ymir slowly opening up to the other two boys as time went on. It turns out, once you get to know her, she’s really funny and easy to talk to.

Their conversation about, “Is their such thing as too sweet when it comes to chocolate?” Was interrupted by an announcement from the intercom.

“Ladies and gentlemen the flight to Sochi International is now ready for boarding, please proceed to gate A15.”

A round of cheers, hoots and whistles went around the room as people started to get up and move towards the door. Jean and Marco said goodbye to the two other girls and then turned to each other.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Jean.” said Marco, extending his hand. “I hope we meet again in Sochi so we can have our little bet.” He smirked a little at the last part.

“As do I my friend.” Jean grasped Marcos’ hand firmly and shook it, smirking right back at him as he did so. If Marco wanted to be a little shit, Jean was going to be a little shit right back.

Marco lifted his hand in a half-wave as he walked away. Jean returned the gesture. He didn’t know why but, he felt kind of, sad, to see him go. He really hoped he would get to see him again. He made his way over to his team mates and coach Levi, who was handing out tickets to each of the boys.

“Where’d you wander of to Kirschtein?” asked Eren, “We were starting to think you’d ran off home.”
“And pass up a chance to watch you fuck up in front of half the planet? Not a fucking hope Jäger.” Jean smirked and crossed his arms, trying to look as smug as possible.

“Well someone seems to be feeling a lot more social.” Eren laughed and punched Jean lightly in the shoulder.

Jean laughed also and punched him back, realising he was feeling a lot better after talking with Marco. It was odd, his brash nature usually meant he usually ended up offending people in the process of getting to know them, But Marco didn’t seem to mind. He had laughed at all his sarcastic comments and came back with a witty remark. Unlike most people who just laughed it off awkwardly. He really did hope he would get to see his freckled friend again.

He followed the other snowboarders to the gate and got in line, he knew it would move relatively fast so the length didn’t bother him. He found himself subconsciously searching for dark hair and freckles amongst the crowd, until he finally saw Marco a few people ahead of him. Marco turned around, and his face that had looked slightly worried and impatient before, broke into a grin when he saw Jean, his cheeks dimpling slightly and crinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. Jean tried to ignore the little flip his stomach made when he saw him.

Jean smiled back with equal enthusiasm and waved a little, Marco returned it with a little more gusto, furiously waving his hand and accidentally tapping someone on the shoulder. Jean laughed a little at his rushed apology to the person and gave him a thumbs up. Much to his surprise, Marco shot him a little wink, which made his stomach flip again and his face go a little red. He could hear Marco laughing from here as he turned back around to face the front of the line.

The line moved quickly as Jean had thought,and he reached the top quickly. He handed the steward his ticket and took one last look at the airport. This was it. He was going to the Winter Olympics. He made a silent promise, that he wasn’t coming back here without a medal. He turned and made his way to the plane.

‘This is it.’ Jean thought.

‘My life starts now.’

Chapter 3: First Fall

Notes:

Hello peoples! Im so so so sorry this is coming so late! :( I am building/moving house at the moment, and school is a real fricking pain. But I shall try to update as frequently as possible. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Jean made his way down the aisle of the plane to his designated seat. Luckily, he had the window seat. He sat down and turned off his phone, staring at the runway outside. It had started to rain at some stage while they were in the airport. Jean watched the raindrops trickle down the window.

The plane began to taxi to the runway. The engine roaring as they gained speed. The plane took off and Jean sat back from the window, taking a large gulp of water to prevent his ears from popping. He leaned back in his seat, waiting for the seatbelt sign to turn off so he could listen to his music.

He looked out the window, the city and towns below getting smaller and smaller. Roads looking like lines drawn on paper, cars looking like dots on the landscape. Until the plane disappeared into a cloud and the view was replaced with empty whiteness.

Jean pulled down the blind and reclined his seat. He couldn’t understand why he was so tired lately, he had slept on the bus to the airport, so why was he so fucking tired? He didn’t really care. He decided that there was fuck all else to do. So he might as well sleep. He lay back and closed his eyes, his last thoughts as he drifted off were about how Marco had winked at him at the airport, and his stomach had flipped.

Jean was at the starting gate, ready to push off. He looked to the half pipe below, the crowd cheering and whistling. He took a deep breath and waited for the go ahead. Then he pushed off. The crowd let out a loud cheer as he began his run, the snow felt good under his bored as he ramped off the edge of the pipe. He went up the side of the bank, twisting into a frontside 180. The crowd watching his every move with anticipation. As he landed, he gained speed, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He left the bank again, twisting and flipping as the crowd roared in excitement. A huge smile crept onto his lips, his eyes narrowing in concentration, all other thoughts abandoned. He left the bank of the pipe again and again, each time pulling an impressive trick, and every time the crowd going crazy. He finished his run and punched the air, the sheer ecstasy of the run he had just done hitting him. He unclipped his board and leapt in the air. He then turned to the crowd and spread his arms wide, reviling in the glory. Armin, Eren and Connie ran out onto the snow, tackling him to the ground in a group hug. They laughed and cheered as they got up off of the snow, Jeans’ ribs hurt from laughing and his stomach was filled with butterflies. He looked into the crowd and saw Levi, who shot him a thumbs up and a smirk, his parents who were cheering at the top of their lungs and jumping up and down with excitement. But then he saw a familiar freckled face amidst the spectators, eyes sparkling as he laughed and cheered, and freckles pooling in the dimples in his cheeks. Jean smiled in his direction, giving a wave and a smile. Marco shot him a cheeky wink and Jeans’ stomach did a flip. Marco laughed at Jeans’ reaction, before jumping the barrier separating the spectators from the course. He walked up to Jean, a grin on his face and a sly twinkle in his dark eyes. Jean felt his face heat up as Marco came closer, removed his helmet and leaned closer, closer, Jean closed his eyes.

Jean woke up with a start, eyes shooting open and a surprised gasp escaping his lips. No. He did not just dream about a guy he had just met in an airport kissing him. He can’t afford to think about stuff like that. It’s stupid. Nope. Not gonna happen. He sat up in his seat and looked at the time. 4:30. Still some time to go. He decided to watch a movie on the in flight T.V. He needed a distraction from the tingling on his lips.

He chose ‘The Hangover’ from the menu and called the stewardess to ask for a sandwich and some water. He only realised how little he had eaten when his stomach gave a loud growl. He put on the headset and tried to relax a little. When his food arrived, he quickly ate it, he was so fucking hungry. The sandwich was decent at best, but it did the job, satisfying the nagging empty feeling in his stomach.

The rest of the flight was uneventful. Jean watched ‘The Hangover’ and then ‘The Lion king’, because he was a sucker for Disney movies. After the 3 hour long flight they finally landed in Sochi. As the wheels of the plane him the ground, a few cheers went around the plane. Jeans heart kept in his chest. He was here, in Russia, about to go to the winter olympics, his lifetime goal. And no stupid dream was going to wreck that for him.

He met up with Eren, Connie and Armin at the baggage carousel, Armin looked sleepy, dark bags hanging under his lidded eyes. Connie and Eren didn't look tired in the slightest, jumping around like little kids, taking about what they were going to do when they got to the hotel.

“I bet the hotel is going to be awesome!”

“Yeah! With a big-ass bed and a fucking minibar and everything!”

“And I bet we get a shit ton of booze in it too!”

Their eyes lit up like kids on christmas morning as they went on, talking about how wasted they were going to get because of the lack of drinking age limitations.

That was, until Levi showed up.

“No one is going to be drinking anything even remotely alcoholic while you are here.” Eren and Connies’ faces fell.

“All you brats are going to be drinking is sports drinks and water, the last thing I need is fucking Springer wasted going down the fucking mountain.” They all laughed at Levis dry attempt at humour. This was as close as he got, might as well humour him.

They got the airport shuttle to the hotel and checked in their bags, Jean was happy he had a room to himself, he would need the space if he was going to be competing at this level. He was a light sleeper anyway and before a competition he slept even less, so he was glad he would be able to walk around his room to clear his head during the night without Eren throwing a fucking pillow at his head.
His room was next to Connies, who had also gotten a room to himself, while Armin and Eren shared a room two doors down the hall. Jean carried his bags to the door of his hotel room, retrieved the key from his pocket and opened the door. He wanted to get rid of his shit so he could go into Sochi for a hot chocolate.

The sight that met him as he opened the door was not one that he had expected. The room was big enough, a large double bed sitting against the left wall. A desk on the other side of the room held a room service menu and… a framed picture of the Russian president. It creeped Jean out. He turned it to face the wall He did not need a guy who would kill him if he had the chance staring at him while he slept.

He put his bag on the floor and walked over to the window at the back of the room. He looked out at the mountains, huge,snow-peaked giants just begging to be boarded down. Jean stared out his window at the beautiful scene before him, the way the mountains sparkled as the sun reflected off the snow. It never got old. Jean gazed out the window, mesmerised.

Until the curtain pole fell and landed on his head.

“Fuck!” Shouted Jean, he threw off the curtains and rubbed his head, a dull pain throbbed where the pole had landed. That was going to be a fucking bump later. “Son of a bitch.”

“Hey, are you alright in there?” A voice asked behind him. Jean realised he had never closed the door behind him.

He turned to face the person at the door while muttering something along the lines of, “yeah, yeah i’m fine.”, and his stomach flipped.

Marco was standing in the door way to his room, looking a little concerned. His face softened a little when he saw that it was Jean as he made his way towards him.

“Wow, we just seem to keep running into each other don’t we Jean?” Marco asked as he stopped just short of him.

“Heheh, yeah.” Jean rubbed the back of his neck, he could feel it warming up.

“How did you manage to break the hotel room in under five minutes?”

“I honestly have no idea. One minute i’m looking out the window, next thing the fucking curtain’s trying to kill me.”

Marco laughed, his laugh as infectious as Jean remembered from the airport, Jean let out a small chuckle.

“Hey, i’m going into Sochi to get some hot chocolate after I unpack, wana come with?” Marco asked, gesturing with his head to the door.

“Sure.” Jean said, a little too eagerly, “I was going down that way myself anyway, so I might as well join you.”

“Cool, i’ll be about ten or fifteen minutes, i’m next door by the way.” Marco made his way to the door, turning around just before he left, “Oh ,and Jean.”

“Hmm?”

“Close your door. Don’t want any weirdos coming into your room while you have your back turned.”

“Weirdos like you?”

“Yes, weirdos like me, but, as I am a kind weirdo I have allowed you to escape with your life.” Marco waved his hands in a ‘menacing’ manner as he backed out of the room. “Let this be a lesson to you.”

“I’ll try to remember.” said Jean, laughing a little as Marco closed the door behind him. Jean sighed into his hands and stared at the ceiling because every time he spoke with Marco the image of how close his face had been in his dream popped into his mind. He could still remember the dark, umber tone of his eyes as they fluttered shut..

Jean shook the thought out of his head and went back to unpacking, he put his clothes in the wardrobe beside the desk and changed into some dark, skinny jeans, a slightly better fitting red t-shirt, and his favourite, black, My Chemical Romance hoodie. Before going next-door to get Marco.

He knocked on the hotel room door as a muffled shout of, “One minute!” came from within.

Jean took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, it had been twenty minutes since Marco had gone to his room to change, Jean rolled his eyes and smirked. “Should I get a few drinks, maybe go for a swim and come back?” Jean shouted through the door, “Or are you going to need a little more time?”

At that Marco opened the door and leaned against the frame with a smirk to match Jeans. “Looking this good takes time you know.” Marco brushed his short bangs off his forehead. “I don’t wake up like this you know.”

“Really, I couldn’t tell.” Jean only realised what he had said after he had said it. “That is..Um…you looked good before!…Not that you don’t look good now of course…You look great now!..I mean….shit.”

“Jean Kirschtein you charmer.” Marco bumped Jean lightly with his shoulder before laughing and walking down the hallway. Jean could feel that his face was heating up. He really needed to get his feelings under control because right now, his stomach was in a tight knot.

Jean fell into step with Marco, noticing that Marco was a little taller than him. Marco wore beige chinos with an open,royal blue hoodie and a grey shirt. He cleaned up way better then Jean did. His hair, that had been slightly mussed when he saw him last, was now brushed down and re-parted, his short bangs falling just over his temples. His face was dusted with freckles on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.

“So where are we going to go for hot chocolate?” Marco asked, turning to look at Jean, derailing his train of thought.

“I dunno. How about we look around until we find a cafe or something.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Marco smiled warmly before walking out of the door of the hotel lobby, Jean walking beside him with a smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks.

Chapter 4

Notes:

HAHAHAHAHA THIS TOOK FOREVER. I'm so sorry this took so long, school is being a horrible thing and I have my junior cert this summer so I have to do school things, BUT HERE YOU GO TAKE THIS CHAPTER.

Chapter Text

Jean and Marco walked through Sochi, looking at the various stalls and shops that were preparing for the games. Shops were full of Olympic merchandise and corny souvenirs for the oncoming wave of tourists.

“Dude look at these gloves!” Marco pointed to a pair of gloves with multicoloured fingers and the olympic rings on the back of the hands. He picked them up and admired them with a grin on his face, Jean rolled his eyes at how enthralled Marco was by them. Marco then looked at the price and his face fell slightly.

“Shit, they're too much for me to get now, meh, i’ll get them later.” He put them down and walked towards the exit of the shop. Jean picked up the gloves and looked at the price. He had brought a little extra money, he could afford them and a hot chocolate….

Jean didn't know why he did what he did next, maybe it was a sudden spurt of kindness, maybe it was to show off, either way he went up to the counter, bought the gloves and ran to catch up with Marco. When he caught up with him he slipped the gloves into Marcos’ pocket. Marco looked down and then looked up at Jean with a surprised smile on his face.

“Did you.. buy these for me?”

“Yeah.” Jean rubbed the back of his neck. “I figured you wanted them, and I had a little extra cash, so I thought I might as well.”

Next thing Jean knew, Marco was hugging him around his shoulders. He squeezed him tight and quick before holding him at arms length and smiling at him.

“Jean, I owe you one, big time.” Marcos dark eyes were sparkling with child-like delight and his freckles pooled in the dimples in his cheeks. Jean felt his face heating up, so he looked away.

“It’s fine, really.” Jean muttered as Marco let go of him and he felt his pulse settle a little.
“No, before the end of this trip, I will pay you back somehow.” Marcos remark was genuine. He was acting like Jean had bought him a fucking puppy, not a cheap pair of gloves.

“Alright.” Jean agreed, not one to turn down free stuff. He wondered why he had bought Marco the gloves in the first place. He didn't usually do shit like that, so why was he doing it for someone he barely knew? He looked at Marco, who was putting the gloves on and smiling like he had just been told he had won the lottery. When he had them on he held out his hands and looked at the gloves, his smile only getting bigger. Jean couldn't help but smile as well.

They came across a small coffee shop and ordered two hot chocolates, they then sat outside and looked around for a while. You could see the snow covered mountains from where they sat. They were stunningly beautiful in the early evening light. Jean gazed at them and let out a contented sigh.

“It never gets old, this view.” Jean leaned his chin on his palm, “I’ve been boarding my whole life and views like this never get old.”

“Mmm” Marco hummed in response, he was looking at the mountains to, Jean glanced at him for a moment, his chin in his gloved hand, multicoloured fingers on his freckled cheek. He looked back at the mountains quickly, not wanting to be caught staring.

They stared at the mountains in silence for a while, neither one wanting to interrupt the other until their hot chocolate arrived. Jean was delighted with the tall cup of steaming, cream covered, hot chocolate. He took a sip and closed his eyes. Holy shit this is as good as everyone says it is.

Marco was obviously just as impressed with his, as he smiled and let out a, “Holyshitthisisamazing.” before going back in for more, burning his tongue in the process.

“Ahh, fuck!” Marco put down his drink and let his tongue hang from his mouth. Jean couldn't help but laugh at his freckled companions ridiculous expression.

“How kind of you to laugh at my pain.” Marco smirked and picked back up his chocolate and took a smaller sip.

“Well it’s not my fault you look like an idiot.” Jan muttered. Marco paused and looked up from his drink. Jean looked back at him feeling a little guilty, had he taken it too far? Had he offended him? Jean was inwardly panicking now. His brutal honestly had lost him more then a few friends in the past, this one he had just got. And he didn't want to lose him.

“Speak for yourself Mr. Cream moustache.” Marco replied with a giggle, Jean ran his tongue across his top lip, catching the chocolate and cream that had stuck there. He laughed, relieved Marco hadn't taken his smart comment to heart.

“We should do this every day.” Marco said, staring back out to the mountains. “ I like it here, and you seem like not a total dweeb.” He faced Jean and smirked, he looked pretty attractive in the evening light. Jean shook that thought from his head as soon as it appeared.

“Sounds like a plan, and thanks, you don’t suck so bad yourself.”

“Lets toast to it.” Marco raised his half empty cup of hot chocolate, “To kicking ass at the olympics, lets show these other loser countries who rules at winter sport.”

“Here here.” Jean raised his cup and tipped it off Marcos, they both took a drink and looked back to the mountains. The sun setting on the mountains was stunning. Jean turned to face Marco, his eyes slightly lidded, his mouth curved up in a gentle smile. He took little sips from his hot chocolate, holding it in his hands and holding it just under his chin.

“Jean, i’m scared.”
Jean was kind of shocked by his friends sudden remark, he was snapped out of his daze and noticed the worried look in Marcos’ eyes.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s just… all this anti gay shit going on over here, what if I get into trouble for doing something stupid?” Marco looked at Jean now. “What if the Russians kick me out of the country?”

“Marco, I seriously doubt the Russians will be allowed to kick out gay athletes without causing some serious shit.” Jean put his drink down and put his hand on Marcos’ shoulder.

“Hey. It'll be fine.”

Marco looked up at Jean again. He looked genuinely worried, scared even. Jean hadn't seen him looking like this before. A small smile broke onto his face, but his eyes still looked sad.

“Yeah. Yeah it will.” Marco nodded, looking a little better now. “We’re gonna kick some ass and look great doing it!” Marco chuckled and Jean joined him, the tension in the atmosphere dropping. Jean was glad, he didn't like it when Marco was upset, he wondered if he should tell him about him being gay, maybe it would take some of the pressure off knowing someone was in a similar situation. But Jean was nervous, he didn't tell many people about his sexuality, only his parents and the others on the snowboarding team knew. And after all, he had just met Marco, but he seemed so kind and understanding. He wouldn't care would he?

“Well, we better get going, training early tomorrow for me.” Marco stood up from the table and pushed in his chair. Jean followed, the two of them walked back through the little town, the sun starting to disappear behind the mountains.

When they arrived back at the rooms, they turned to look at each other, Jean had been trying to keep calm for the whole walk home and keep himself for reaching for Marcos hand, but they way he was looking at him right now, he knew that maybe what he was feeling for Marco was going a little beyond friendship.

“Well, good luck in training tomorrow.” Marco said, sighing a little.

“Same to you.” Jean replied, he felt like he should do something else, so he extended his hand.

Marco looked down to Jeans hand and then back up to his face, he grabbed Jeans hand and quickly pulled him into a hug, Jeans breath caught in his throat as Marco put his free arm around Jeans shoulders and gave him a light pat on the back.

Marco let go of Jeans hand and pulled out of the hug. Jeans skin was still tingling and he could feel his cheeks staring to burn. Marco looked at him and the kind look on his face made Jeans stomach flip, why did Marco always make his stomach flip?

“See you tomorrow!” Marco said as he entered his room.

“Yeah, bye.” Jean replied weakly, giving him a weak wave. After Marco disappeared into his room, Jean stood in the hallway, still kind of shell shocked.

“Why am I feeling like this? It’s not like he kissed me.” Jean thought. “It was just a hug, a friendly hug.”

Jean shook his head and headed into his room, when the door shut he leaned against it and slid down to the floor. He put his head in his hands and heaved a heavy sigh.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me.”