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dragonquill · 4 years

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Winter FRE: 29. Ice-Skating AU

physical prizes, please!

It was an insane idea.

Despite the collected facts that they were both properly registered, had known each other all their lives and practiced together on the same ice, and Kili had already proven he could switch to Fili’s routine, the entire concept of two men entering the pairs competition was complete nonsense.

And yet, here they were, on Rohan ice, warming up under the incredulous stares of sports casters, camera persons, early audience arrivals, and six properly gendered pairs.

“Definitely not drawing any attention,” Kili muttered as he stepped out on the ice. It had been years since a competition properly turned his stomach into knots, but those had been with his now very pregnant (“I’m so sorry, Kili, we just sort of… got… carried away. Without protection.”) former partner, not with his very male best friend.

Fili, damn him, looked as calm as an especially well-frosted cucumber. “So what?” he said with a flash of a dimple. “We’ll be amazing, and it’ll all be fine.”

“Says the man not getting tossed everywhere.”

Keep reading on Ao3 or read more here!

Kili was taller than Fili, but Fili was stronger. When Fili’s own partner had injured her knee surfing (“irresponsible!” their coach Thorin had roared, ad nauseum) and this insane idea had been born (“I can’t learn the women’s moves to Fili’s routine in 10 months!” “Yes you can and you will, Kili Durin, or so help me you will find a new coach!”) Kili had proven the better choice for the intense difficulties of the “female” skater.

He had drawn the line at a lady’s leotard though. There’d been talk of waxing his legs, and there were things Kili wouldn’t do for his art.

So Fili Oakenshield, reigning Arda Champion in pairs figure skating, stepped out onto the ice with Kili Durin, former Junior Champion, as if nothing at all was unusual. Fili took firm hold of Kili’s hand and spun him artfully out onto the ice in a delightful spray of frozen flakes.

He grinned, blue eyes warm, and the nerves in Kili’s stomach transformed into besotted butterflies.

They were going to look ridiculous, yes, and they’d be lucky if they placed at all with the adjustments they’d been forced to make for Fili’s height and Kili’s skills, BUT, and Kili would vehemently deny it if asked, his poor heart was so happy to be dancing with Fili (aka. his lifelong crush) that he didn’t even care how they did in the actual competition. It was all about the months they’d spent together, sweating and cursing and falling and dancing.

“Have fun!” Fili said, skating backward, tugging Kili along, and the butterflies took flight.

“Let’s do this!” he crowed back, shifted his feet, and moved into the first steps of their routine.

---

A bad practice meant a great show, right?

Kili’s bruised ass certainly hoped so.

There was an involved debate over who was responsible for that sore ass – Fili claiming Kili botched the jump, Kili snapping that Fili fouled the throw. Fili took the responsibility in the end, as usual – he had always babied Kili’s pride.

And Kili loved it.

Squabble settled and friendship reinstated, they changed into their proper costumes, which in established competition style, sparkled and left very little to the imagination (so little that Kili’s poor heart only survived because he’d seen Fili in leotards for years).

They were fourth in line, a random placement rather than sending Fili first – without Sigrid, his title meant little indeed.

One performance… two… and when they were next a warm hand slipped into Kili’s.

Luckily, he was so used to skates that the jump of surprise didn’t send him sprawling.

“Fili?”

Fili looked at him, pretty eyes serious but dimples peeking beyond his smile.

“I’m glad it’s you, Kili,” Kili’s best friend / crush of all time / bizarre skating partner said quietly. “From the very beginning, I’ve hated having to let go when it was time to step on the ice.”

The smile spread as Kili felt his mouth fall open.

“This time we go together.”

He held out his hand as the lights swept across the ice.

Kili reached out and took it, not bothering to calm his broad grin as they moved as one from the entrance and onto the ice.

Butterflies disappeared as the music began. Fili’s choreographer had selected a somewhat unusual piece for competition: a special cover of Beethovan’s Fifth Symphony by David Garrett, The first pounding notes set Fili in motion, while strikes of the violin led to Kili’s sudden, delicate footwork. With his partner, the routine would have been risky but powerful; with Kili, it was simply outrageous in the face of the figure skating establishement.

But Kili didn’t care. And neither did Fili - Kili could see his friend’s joy in every movement, in his sharp smile, his watchful eyes. Every time Fili’s hands gripped his waist, every time their bodies moved together into the powerful throws - still adjusted, not what Sigrid could have done, not as high or as graceful, but they made do.

The audience, shocked into silence for the first few bars, went wild at Kili’s first perfect landing, the spray of ice. Audiences love skaters who take chances, even if the judges don’t, and Kili fed on it as he always had, heart pounding, laughter spilling from his lips.

Fili caught his hand, and laughed too.

THe last notes of the cut pounded out distinct movements, a twist, a fall, a slide across the ice with Kili bent back over Fili’s arm-

And on the very last note, the last reverberation of a drum, warm lips pressed against Kili’s panting and cold and smiling.

Kili’s eyes fluttered closed despite themselves at the flick of a hot tongue against his bottom lip.

“Call me clever or call me a coward,” Fili whispered, their breath mingling as the lights went down and roses began to scatter across the ice, “but you can’t deck me on in front of the judges if you don’t like it.”

Kili curled, let Fili pull him to his feet, and then reached out to grab the braid at the back of Fili’s neck and pull him down for a proper (for them, not for the hooting audience) kiss. Because, of course, he didn’t mind.

Not a bit.

#winterfre2020 #fiki #fili/kili #hobbit #quill writes

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