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corner-stories · 11 months

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ice dancing on his own

Bart Allen. Jesse Chambers. Ice Rinks. Podiums. Himbos With Chiselled Jaws. Figure Skating AU. 3618 words. (ao3.)

A month ago, Bart Allen was perilously performing an ice dance routine at Junior Nationals that would net him and his partner — the immeasurably talented Cissie King-Jones — fourth place and a spot on the podium. Despite his age and his slender frame, he managed to make the act of lifting a seventeen-year-old girl with one arm for three rotations over a slippery surface look utterly effortless.

At the time the lovers of the sport cheered for the duo of King-Jones & Allen, as it had been the first time they had podiumed at a competition in their junior career.

But right now, Bart was just trying to get through class.

As per usual, school was a slog. Each moment he spent in the classroom felt wasted. Every few minutes he would find himself glancing at the clock in the corner, only to be disappointed to see that the short hand had barely moved.

He tapped his foot restlessly against the floor as his English teacher spoke in length about how deep the (something something) in the second act of (something something Shakespeare play) was (something something symbolic) and definitely not a (something something phallus joke). And at the end of it all, everyone was a better person for knowing it. Or something.

Clearly, the works of Billy Shakes were not Bart’s forte.

Once the bell rang and Bart was free from the shackles that were the American education system, he was quick to leave the classroom and even quicker to leave the campus.

Keystone was still chilly this time of year, but the bite of winter did nothing to stop him on his commute. Somehow, he was more patient when waiting for the bus to arrive at his stop, as what awaited him on the other side was something he actually cared about.

With his headphones placed on his ears Bart placed his music on shuffle, then was immediately brought to a song he hoped to not hear. Listening to the music of his rhythm dance from the current season was the last thing he wanted to do.

As the first few bars of the song played, his mind quickly recalled the way he and Cissie had tango’d across the rink, proudly performing what could only be described as “Cheetah Girls 2 on Ice.”

With the memories of Nationals and his partner now in his head, Bart quickly texted Cissie to ask how her ankle was healing up.

When the bus arrived at his stop, Bart stepped off and practically sped-walk to the rink across the street. Even if he was training sans-partner, he was going to make the use of his rink time no matter what. His coaches would certainly come for him if he didn’t.

His mind felt like a blizzard of thoughts as he came into the building.

As he entered the lobby of the Keystone Ice Skating Center, he pondered the apparent “tea” regarding certain Senior skaters at Nationals last month, as the mere implication of figure skaters dating could send the lovers of the sport into a fervent frenzy. He had been told many times to not dig deep into the business of other skaters, but after seeing enough tweets about who was seen hanging out with who at a cafe near the North Metropolis Ice Arena, the rabbit hole began to make him curiouser and curiouser.

After doing his usual stretches and warm-up, he laced up his skates and made his way to the rink. For now he could work on his step sequences while trying not to think about whether Cissie’s ankle injury would equate to her early retirement, and perhaps his as well.

He knew it was absurdly selfish to make his good friend’s injury about him, but it was hard not to when his coaches were doing that exact thing. Obviously, ice dance was a sport that required two people, and being partnerless was far from what most people on his level would prefer to be. Having danced with Cissie since they were ten years old didn't help either, as Bart was truly unable to imagine what it was like to compete with someone else.

If the ISU would accept Bart ice dancing on his own, then he would be practicing for his solo debut. But instead he was here, sitting on a bench near the ice rink and wondering if Cissie’s ankle injury would spell the end for the duo that was King-Jones & Allen.

Sitting on a bench near the ice, Bart checked his phone again and saw a reply from Cissie. In response to his question pertaining to the state of her injured limb, she sent him a photo of what she was doing at the moment.

Evidently, the wonderful ice dancer that was Suzanne King-Jones was spending her recovery time holed up in her bedroom watching episodes of The Bachelor on her laptop. To give her some sense of comfort during an uncomfortable time, she had permitted herself to consume the foods she would never touch in the middle of the season.

Judging by the multiple ice cream pints by her computer, one could easily assume that the astounding Suzanne King-Jones was recovering from a rather nasty break-up and not an ankle injury.

And to think all of this had started because Cissie — of all things — tripped while exiting her mother’s car. Perhaps the weather wizard that created the Keystone City winters were out to get her.

In response, Bart sent a handful of sympathetic emojis and hoped they would tide her through.

The rink was sparsely occupied as Bart pulled the guards off his blades. A handful of juvenile level skaters were getting coached, some were practicing on their own, and on the far end were the rink’s pride and joy.

Tall and slender, Wally West was able to glide across the ice with the grace of a swan soaring under the stars. And he wasn’t alone, as he was joined by the rink’s other golden glider. Lisa Snart was well-versed in the art of making it look easy, as she made skating circles around her rinkmate look like child’s play.

Unsurprisingly, the fact that both Wally had placed second and Lisa had placed first at Nationals led to their little rink in Keystone gaining an increased amount of media attention. Then again, the fabled Lisa was known for podiuming at every Nationals since her senior level debut, but that's besides the point.

Bart often imagined that the fancy rinks in Gotham and Metropolis were boiling mad that a skater as decorated as Lisa managed to accomplish her feats while training in a dingy midwest rink.

As the two champion skaters did their thing on the ice, their coaches watched from the sidelines. Jay Garrick and Max Crandall — the rink’s most famous coach and choreographer duo — kept a close eye on Wally as he showed off, just as they were doing a month before. Additionally, Lisa’s coach — Roscoe Dillon — stood beside them and paid particular attention to the way she would spin on the ice.

Joining the coaches on the side of the rink was a local news crew, which consisted of one cameraman and one reporter.

Said cameraman was doing his best to record both of the star skaters. At one moment Wally would be showing off his famous double axel-triple loop combo, then at another Lisa would perform her triple lutz for some extra pizzazz, leaving the press member to frantically pan between both skaters.

A bothered Bart couldn’t help but watch on with a glare, particularly towards the spinning ginger on the ice. The cocky smirk on Wally’s face was unavoidable.

Perhaps that was the most frustrating thing about Wally freakin’ West, the fact that for all his ego he was actually as talented as he claimed to be. Even Bart couldn’t deny that Wally landing a quad salchow at Nationals was phenomenally impressive.

Before Bart could steam in his envy for any longer, another native to the little rink in Keystone walked into his vicinity. Fortunately, he happened to be a lot more fond of this skater than the pair showing off on the ice.

Jesse Chambers was clad in her usual training gear as she joined Bart on the bench. In her hand was a steaming overpriced oat milk latte and in her eyes was a look that implied she was getting a less-than-ideal amount of sleep. In contrast to the absolute poise she exuded on the ice, her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun and her skates were lazily slung over her shoulder by the laces.

“Enjoying the show?” asked Jesse, then she let out a yawn.

As if on cue Lisa glided by and seamlessly transitioned into a triple toe loop. Bart swore that he could see her winking smugly towards the skaters on the bench.

“Kinda,” Bart said, shrugging.

For a few more moments the two watched Wally and Lisa making their ice center proud, then Bart looked to Jesse with a confused, mildly bewildered eye.

“Why aren’t you out there?” he asked. “You placed pretty high too.”

Jesse gave him a knowing look before letting out a sigh. “I know, but name someone who actually gives a shit about sixth place.”

Bart winced, then tried not to think about it — which of course led him to immediately thinking about it even harder.

He was no expert in regards to Women’s Singles skating, but a month ago he was in the audience to cheer Jesse and Wally (but mostly Jesse) on during the competition, just as they had done so when it was him on the ice.

Judging by the way the audience cheered when Jesse landed her double axel-triple lutz combo, he thought that she would at least podium at the end of it all. But perhaps the judges had other things in mind as they chose their winners. At least both Jay and Max held her hands tightly in the kiss and cry as they awaited her scores.

If it was any consolation, Jesse's performance during the Gala Exhibition reduced the audience to putty in her hands. In contrast to Lisa’s effortless elegance, Jesse absolutely exuded athleticism and intensity on the ice. Her jumps were strong and her spins reminded Bart of a freakin’ jet engine. Once unbound from the restraints that came with the short program and the free skate, Jesse could finally show the world what figure skating meant to her, and for that Bart thought she should be proud.

“It’s bullshit,” Bart soon said, and he meant every word of it. He gave Jesse a sympathetic gaze. “You skated better than half those girls last month.”

For a moment Jesse looked at Bart peculiarly, then soon she let out a polite chuckle.

She looked down smiling, then said, “I envy you.”

Bart raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you still think it’s all only about skating.”

Before Bart could think about what she said for any longer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Upon checking his notifications he found a new message from Cissie, which consisted of a textless picture of her right hand. At the moment, her most expressive finger was raised, a gesture that easily summarized her current post-injury state of mind.

“How’s Cissie?” asked Jesse, clearly trying to steer the conversation into any other direction.

Bart wisely hid the picture from her. “She’s coping.”

When he glanced at Jesse again she was taking another sip of her coffee. Her eyes were sympathetic, but not overly so, not enough to make Bart feel like she was pitying him. Deep inside, he appreciated that about her.

“So… what are you gonna do for the reason of the season?” Jesse asked, genuinely curious.

Bart sighed and ran a hand through his already unruly hair. “I have no fucking clue.”

He placed his phone onto the bench and finally stood up, opening the door to the ice and stepping onto the slippery surface. The second he began to glide he felt free, but the heavenly sensation did nothing to quell the worry in his heart. He promised himself to not panic at his coaching session today, but now he knew for a fact that his internal vow was a dirty fucking lie.

“At least I got that Skate Camp to look forward to,” he said, twirling on the ice to face Jesse on the bench. “Two weeks of single twizzles and step sequences, I guess.”

“The one in Gotham, right?”

Bart nodded. “Yep.”

There was a beat, then Jesse knit her eyebrows as she began to think. “Hmmmm, maybe Max’s idea will work out after all…”

Bart blinked, both utterly entranced and confused at her use of ‘Max’ and ‘idea’ in the same sentence. Seeing as Max was currently busy watching Lisa Snart literally skating circles around Wally West, Bart figured that the sleep-deprived skater on the bench in front of him would be the first step to him getting any sort of answer.

“What idea?” asked Bart.

“He didn’t tell you?” asked Jesse, confused.

Bart crooked his head to the side as he began to look more and more lost. “Does this look like the face of a guy who has been told a thing?!”

Jesse blinked, then said — “Okay, so um… for the record this is just an idea, but with that whole thing about Tim stepping back from competition-”

“TIM’S RETIRING?!?!?!” Bart yelled in a thundering tone.

Unsurprisingly, his voice echoed in the rink and garnered the attention of everyone in the area, the news crew included.

As the coaches, skaters, and media briefly glanced at the flabbergasted junior ice dancer with the messy hair, Jesse did her best to keep her cool.

“First of all, he’s not,” she made sure to clarify. “And second of all, did you see his Instagram story?”

Immediately, Bart skated towards the boards. Instead of opening the doors and stepping off the ice like a normal human being, he instead hopped forward and rested his stomach on top of said boards as he fruitlessly reached for his phone on the bench, haphazardly kicking his legs in the air.

After Jesse handed him his phone, Bart remained on the boards as he unlocked his device and opened the correct app. It took a quick search to dredge up the profile of his close friend, and almost immediately he managed to pull up the fabled Instagram story that apparently explained it all.

Said story consisted of a photo of an empty Gotham City ice rink and a paragraph of text explaining the scenario. Tim’s prose was gentle as he told the world of his ordeal, that his commitment to ice dance had caused his grades in school to falter, so much so that he was very likely to be held back all together.

After coming in second at Junior Nationals, he made the very difficult choice to step back from the sport he loved. On top of his schoolwork beginning to pile up, the shoulder injury he had sustained from his silver-medal-winning curve lift had also put his career into a different perspective. Stepping back on a high note felt a lot better than stepping back after a potentially life-changing injury.

At the end of the paragraph, Tim wished the rinkmates he had made over the years luck in the future, and especially gave love to his partner of the last few years. Despite coming off of a silver medal at Nationals, only the gods of ice dance could help Cassandra Cain now.

“Ohhhhhhh shit!” Bart yelped, staring harder at his phone. He gave Jesse a desperate look. “This was posted like, an hour ago, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You’re always on your phone! I thought you’d know!” Jesse exclaimed, although at a less audible level than Bart.

For a few more moments Bart spent time re-opening the Instagram story, reading it again and again as if to get it down by heart. The circumstances of his ice dance career started to feel less and less real every day, and the current news was no exception.

However, the one upside to the chaos was beginning to become more clear to him. If anything, at least Max was a quick thinker.

It was almost too convenient — two ice dancers in the Junior division were now left without partners due to circumstances outside of their control, and both of whom would presumably be attending the fabled Gotham City Ice Skating Camp in march. It would almost be stupid to not even consider dancing together if both wanted to retain their skating careers.

Said Gotham skating camp was where Bart managed to make most of his rinkmates in the first place, though admittedly he didn’t know much about Cassandra Cain. All he really did know was that she was about a year older than him, rarely talked to anyone aside from her partner Tim, and that she absolutely emanated a sense of elegance and decorum on the ice.

The way Tim could hold her on the ice and spin around gave one the image of a person holding a delicate doll, then suddenly he would release her and the two could dance around the ice like two friends in a heavenly paradise.

There was definitely a reason why Bart and Cissie placed fourth at Nationals and why Tim and Cassandra managed second.

Eventually, Bart got off the boards of the rink and back onto the ice.

“So… Max thinks I should dance with that Cass girl, right?” the mopheaded dancer said. He looked back up at Jesse on the bench.

The blonde nodded. “Only if you want to though — if it doesn’t work out, I’m sure there are other people who could use you as a partner.” She sucked in a nervous breath. “That may put you out of the season for a while.”

Bart kept looking at his phone screen and shrugged. “Could be worse,” he admitted. “But I guess it’s worth a shot.”

About a million thoughts were running through his head, but if one thing was for sure it was the ice dance career of the one Bart Allen was not completely dead.

As Bart made mental plans to discuss things further with Max, he randomly swiped around Instagram on his phone. Before he could close the app he saw a certain post that caught his attention.

To say that the figure skating community remained close-knit was an understatement, but to say that news and rumors in said community could spread like wildfire was an even bigger understatement, one of potentially lovecraftian proportions.

The current post from a talented pairs skater from New York only further proved Bart’s point.

“Oh…” Bart said. Soon a mischievous smile crept up on his youthful face as he swiped through Rick Tyler’s apparent Nationals Photo Dump.

It seemed that Rick’s killer short program wasn’t the only thing he was focusing on during the competition. Aside from the pictures of the North Metropolis Ice Arena and of his fellow rinkmates during some pre-competition downtime, there were a few images of a cafe table, wherein shared a latte with the other blonde known for training at the Keystone Skating Center. In fact there were several photos of said blonde, even some depicting the two exploring the Metropolis streets together.

It seemed that coming in at sixth place wasn’t the only thing they had in common.

After a few moments, Jesse gave Bart a confused expression.

“What?”

Bart gave her a smirk. “I knew you hung out with that himbo from New York,” he said teasingly. “But I didn’t think you hung out with him that much.”

Bart had known Jesse for long enough to know when she was getting flustered. As she sat on the bench near the ice, her grip around her coffee cup tightened as a slight red tint came upon her cheeks. He hadn’t seen her get that excited and nervous since they both ran into Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir at a hotel lobby.

“His name is Rick,” Jesse managed to say. “And we… spent some time together during the competition…” She then took a quick sip of her coffee, perhaps to hide the bashful look on her face. “... and a little bit after.”

Bart let out a playful, slightly devilish chuckle. “Oh, I know — Jay and Max said you were a little late for gala rehearsals.” The little eyebrow waggle he did to punctuate his words simply added to the theatrics.

Though to be fair to Jesse, Bart didn’t blame her. After seeing Rick Tyler and Jennie-Lynn Hayden's incredibly flamboyant gala performance, in the middle of which the male skater dramatically tore off his shirt to the sensual beat of a Marvin Gaye song, how could one not find themselves drawn to the muscular arms of the brunette himbo with the chiseled jaw?

Jesse’s once sheepish look slowly morphed into one of annoyance. In every way but blood Bart easily viewed her as an older sister, but in the same vein she also viewed him as a very annoying little brother.

“Jay and Max also said that you should learn to mind your own damn business,” Jesse finished off.

And with that said, she stood up from her bench and walked away from the rink, choosing to disappear into the hallways leading out of the arena (to perhaps scream into the void) and leave the nosy little ice dancer to his own devices.

Even when she was gone Bart rolled his eyes and laughed, then reminded himself to skate by the old fogies of the rink to inquire for the rest of the tea.

#Bart Allen #Jesse Chambers #Wally West #Lisa Snart #Cissie King-Jones #Cassandra Cain #Jay Garrick #Max Crandall #DC #Flashfam #Figure Skating AU #some people are destined to be himbos in every universe

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