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astronicht · 7 months

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whumptober day 1: “how many fingers am i holding up?”

(I wanna do some of these for as long as i’m feeling it as a kind of fic amnesty! get back into the swing of writing without pressure u know! it might be exactly two it might be literally just this one who knows!)

F1 rpf | max/daniel | figure skating AU | 1.5k, rated T

(mild cw for an injured kid)

The coach is a fucking joke. He’s across the lobby from Max, who is tying his sleek black skates and waiting for Christian to show up in about thirty minutes, clutching a coffee even though he’s woken up at 4AM for the last forty years.

The coach nervously leans close to a little girl sitting on the benches in her skates, her boots and blades wet with slush. She has a sleek high ponytail and still has her bum pad strapped on over her leggings to break falls and a closed-off look on her little face. The coach says, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jackass. He’s obviously a competitive skater working as a coach part-time because he looks all of nineteen, but that doesn’t fucking matter. He’s the coach. He should know better. Max’s hands feel clumsy on his laces. He’s probably going to have to— Or the mum—

As Max is scanning the little crowd of parents at the tables, the door to the rink swings open with a blast of cool wet air and Daniel strides in. He’s got new boots on, Max realizes numbly. Daniel and the little girl are also wearing the same brand of leggings, hers in miniature. She is probably seven years old.

“Hey, you took a spill, huh?” Daniel says, because if he was on the ice he’d have seen it. He’s walking a little gingerly, slush sluicing off his blades onto the rubber floor; his feet are probably rubbed bloody inside the stupid new Jackson Ultimas.

Max gets up, walks over. Daniel sees him and seems surprised, or maybe Max is imagining it. Max does not say anything. He squats on his toepicks in front of the little girl, ignores the stupid fucking coach. Daniel says, “Oh, uh— Max is just gonna do a little concussion check, yeah?” Daniel doesn’t ignore the coach at all, smiles at him, says something, but he does somehow dismiss him a little. It’s easy to see, to Max, that Daniel was coached by Christian for a long time.

Max looks at the girl. She stares back, jaw tight. He tells her, “No counting, only follow my finger with your eyes. And now you talk to me, okay? Explain exactly what happened.”

The girl hesitantly starts to describe the double loop that led to the back of her skull smacking into the ice. Max moves his finger to her left, to her right. Her words are in the right order, not slurred, but her eyes judder a little following his hand.

“Daniel, give me your phone.” Max says, squinting at the girl and sticking his hand up. Daniel’s warm hip is right next to him, shifting as Daniel fidgets, his phone probably in his fleece because he never leaves it on the boards unless he’s on the ice. Daniel hesitates, maybe, but then his cold phone is being fumbled into Max’s waiting hand. His lock screen is some fucking beach, screen protector clouding up under Max’s warm fingertips. Daniel does not even like the beach that much. Max taps to make the flashlight come on from the lockscreen and tries to ignore Daniel relaxing beside him, like he didn’t want Max to be nosy about his stupid life.

Daniel does get three incoming texts while Max is watching the girl’s pupils react to the light, flinching down to a point the way they are supposed to. But maybe a little slow. Max frowns. It is all normal for skating, injuries and concussions alike, but it makes him feel a little sick, sometimes, when it’s the little ones. He doesn’t practice around kids that often anymore, but then again, if she’s here this seven-year-old is probably thinking about breaking into juniors, probably very serious.

The girl’s mum comes in through the other set of doors, the ones leading to the rest of the rink, the other sheets of ice that Max normally rents privately for a few hundred dollars an hour — a little cheaper in euros. Someone must have texted her; one of the other mums at the tables by the window to the rink, probably, not the coach who is almost hiding behind Daniel while Max takes care of his fucking student. Max should charge him.

Max straightens up and says to the mum, but looking out at the rink through the windows, “She has hit her head. I am of course not her coach so I cannot tell you what to do. She is not confused now but some of her reactions are a little slow.” He swallows. “So yes you could of course get her checked out at a clinic.”

The woman turns to the useless coach and starts asking questions. Max looks at the kid. “Okay, good job,” he says. “Take a break, try not to fall on your head like this.” Then he walks back to his seat. He looks down at his skates again. He can’t find his gloves.

A rustle and a shadow in the fluorescent lights: Daniel is coming to sit beside him on the cold plastic bench. Daniel sighs. It is early but he looks more tired than an early morning. He only got one Grand Prix invitation this year. The girl and her mum are gone, the doors swinging shut. Max swallows. It is normal, but also he hopes the mum takes the girl to the doctor today, just to see.

“Alright?” says Daniel, almost warily. “Doctor Maxy.”

Max rolls his eyes at him, says, “It is so annoying. Of course a head hit rattles you, so it is hard to tell when it is real.”

“Well, this time she’s definitely fucking concussed,” Daniel says, rubbing his face.

“Oh. Did you tell her mum?” Max asks, surprised. He watches his own hands clench on his knees. His gloves are in the side pocket of his skate bag like always, he realizes. He doesn’t reach for them yet.

Daniel blinks at him, eyes wide, shadows under them a delicate purple. “I… yeah, I told her what the kid said: that she'd blacked out when she hit her head for a second? Any time you black out, it’s a concussion, right? I don’t know if the mum like, knows that.” He squints at the doors. “Cunt of a useless coach though.”

“No it’s not always a concussion,” Max corrects. The girl did say that, he remembers, when he was making her talk so he could test how she spoke. “Blacking out for a second when you hit? Then I would've had dozens as a kid.” Daniel shifts beside him, laughs a nervous little laugh. His head is in his hands. “I have had enough already, my brain would be mush, Daniel. Anyway it is not even the real test, the finger and the eyes thing and the talking. It is just a DUI test. Geri did it to you once, I remember, at Cup of China 2017? I asked what it was because I of course had not seen it and she said she used to party pretty hard, run into problems with friends sometimes, and she thought it had to be about the same.”

Daniel rubs his face again. “Was I concussed?” he asks. “In 2017?”

“Yes, I think so. But it is hard to tell.”

“No, I remember, I skated in that competition.”

Max shrugs. “You won the gold, then I beat you at Skate America two weeks later.”

“Shit, yeah. I remember now. Yeah.” Daniel tips his head back. On the tvs above the rink doors, the receptionist is playing YouTube videos of last year’s Grand Prix series instead of the rink sponsorship reel. It looks like Italy, the senior pairs event. Max watches Sui Wenjing get thrown through the air in a near-perfect twist, land on one edge of one blade like a sharp and flying thing. He has always wondered what it feels like, to land something from six feet in the air. No matter how high he can get his quads, his triples, he of course skates singles.

Max can smell Daniel’s cologne, which he is wearing at 5:03 AM, his sweat, the stiff leather of his awful new boots. “Well, gotta get back out there,” Daniel says. “These babies won’t break themselves in.”

They both look at Daniel’s new boots, which are probably full of Daniel’s blood for no reason, because Max doesn’t think his old ones were really broken or that bad or whatever. His coach probably told him to switch. Max switches boots when he needs to, always knows when to judge it, always gives himself the full summer before the competition season to break them in and let them tear him up a bit.

“Okay,” Max rasps. “Say hi to Lando for me. Try to land your Salchow.”

Daniel stands with his hand on Max’s hair, ruffles it and shoves Max, making him laugh. The clenching thing in his chest releases a little.

“Don’t bump your noggin,” Daniel says quietly, rapping his hand on Max’s head, gentle.

“Too late,” Max jokes.

Max stays sitting there for a minute after Daniel gets back on the ice, trying to wait out the rush of adrenaline, his heart still slamming like it was him who fucked up a loop, like it was his pale mother at the swinging doors.

—

concept brought to u by me in @/garagegremlin’s texts like OKAY they’re like all singles skaters but max has the heart of a pairs girl

#f1 rpf #my fic #whumptober ‘23 #max/daniel #maxiel #suddenly remembering i don’t know tagging conventions round these parts #alas #maxiel figure au

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sappynapper · 2 years

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heyy can you do romantic cc!dsmp x figure skater!reader?

plsss i love ice skating!! im gonna interpret this as like, reader loves skating and competes locally so it’s not a famous!reader thing and more about the skating

cws: gn!reader, fluff

Dream

brags about you sooo much

like everyone he knows knows everything about your skating and has seen endless pictures and videos that he takes when he comes to watch you

embarrassing but he’s so proud of you, like he stans you so hard it’s kinda funny

always brings a huge bunch of roses for you when you’re competing so he can present them to you dramatically if you win or make you feel better if you don’t

and ofc he insists on getting you the best skates money can buy and paying your coaching fees so you can get the best person going

he also tries to learn more about it, watching loads of youtube videos and listening in on your talks with your coach so he can understand your passion better and offer advice on your form and stuff during your casual practices

if you’re into skating as a fan too he gets you tickets to watch big skating tournaments / lots of signed memorabilia etc

basically he’ll do anything to support and show interest in your hobby, well almost anything

he refuses to actually skate with you bc he knows how bad you’ll show him up and he’s not about it lol

makes jokes about not wanting to steal your thunder bc obviously he’d be sooo good and that’s why he won’t skate with you

he might secretly get some lessons if you’ve been together a while though, so he can surprise you one day...

Sapnap

can’t understand how elegant you look on the ice, you make it look effortless

like he’s a texas boy so i reckon he’s probably never ice-skated in his life, except the one time you dragged him onto the rink with you

he lasted less than three minutes before calling it and has flat out refused to ever go on again

he DOES love taking you to the skate park tho, and you get into inline skating (bc they’re kinda similar at the end of the day) so you can skate together “on solid ground” as sap puts it

also he can’t get over what you wear for competitions

like he feels kinda conflicted tbh bc obviously you look sexy asl in those skin tight outfits but they’re also just a tiny bit goofy

they remind him just slightly too much of pro-wrestling ??? idk

he’s amazed by you though and his lockscreen is a selfie he took during a competition with him going crazy in the foreground and you doing some insane spin jump in the background

the photo’s kinda blurry and you didn’t actually land that jump but he does not care

you two have a tradition of getting drive through take out on the way back from competitions or difficult practices bc it helps you decompress, and you shit talk your competitors together in the privacy of his car

he also heckles the judges that give you bad scores like he’s at a football game and you’ve had to tell him to stop so he doesn’t get banned

George

he just genuinely really enjoys watching you skate

he’ll sit on his own in the stands for hours just watching you practice, or even just scrolling on his phone, but he likes to be there with you anyway

sometimes he’ll facetime karl or somone and show them what you’re doing and he always gets so smiley

he has a lot of fun coming to watch you compete too and he makes a whole thing of it like he’s going to watch a big sports league final or the olympics or something and you’re his favourite team

like holding his breath when you do difficult jumps and spins he knows you struggle with and jumping up and cheering when you land them

of all of them he’s definitely done the most skating, with you and just in general

he’s still not very good but he can mostly stay on his feet and just laughs when he falls over bc fun > ego every time with georgie

loves just holding your hand while he stumbles around the rink with you or holding your hand over your head while you do a lil spin

he thinks you always look the most beautiful while skating: all giddy and smiley from doing your favourite thing and cheeks flushed from the cold and the exercise

Karl

another one who goes way overboard with the cheering just to be a dork and embarrass you

but also bc he is so genuinely proud of you and how hard you work to be good

he can’t make a lot of your competitions or any practice really bc he’s so busy with his work, but when he can be there he makes up for it with a bunch of flowers and gifts, and so much praise and cuddling

celebrates your wins and feels your losses so sincerely bc your success is his success and your sadness is his sadness

he undoes your laces and takes off your skates for you every time he’s there to do it

and after the stream where he drew on those sneakers you asked him to decorate your practice skates with whatever he liked so he could always be there with you in a way

he got so in his head about doing something incredible and you had to tell him you just wanted cute lil doodles and they’d be perfect bc he drew them

they came out like a graffitied primary school desk but with loads of different colours and little hearts and stick figures of the two of you smooching plus some affirmations about how amazing you are

he was so nervous to show you but you ADORE them and would wear them for competitions if you could

#mcyt x reader #dream x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #karl jacobs x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #gnf x reader #mcyt fluff

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affinity-to-infinity · 2 years

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